[ this is what michael's missed back home. lestat isn't the first guy who's been this desperate to suck his cock, but he's different to everyone he's ever known - lestat is shameless and powerful and acts without fear, he's willing to sin unapologetically. the men and boys at hawthorne who looked at him like he was God, the satanists he met through anton and his miss mead who whispered his name behind his back, the witches he'd saved from death... they were all spineless and weak-willed. they were people who clung to whatever shred of power they could find among their betters. they were fake.
lestat feels real. he pushes michael back and michael smiles as he goes, walking backwards without resistance until his shoulderblades hit the wall. he wets his lips again and keeps his eyes wide, staring at lestat like he's afraid of missing even a second of this by blinking. he's completely and totally enraptured.
and lestat teases him. tells him what he wants. plays along. michael just watches, intrigued, still lightly smiling. ]
You can deny me all you like.
[ lestat shows his fangs, predatory and dangerous. michael wants them to tear him apart. he wants to feel his skin break beneath them, he wants to feel lightheaded as he loses himself to the pain, he wants lestat to pull orgasm after orgasm from his wrecked and ruined body while he drains him like a meal. he wants to be battered and bruised, just as much as he wants to batter and bruise in turn. ]
It's a nice fantasy. Being wanted. Being loved. But - that's all it is.
[ but no matter how much he might want that, and no matter how much he might be willing to throw himself into the lion's den just to feel a connection to something real - michael is, ultimately, the alpha. the predator of predators, the beast that rises from the sea, the harbinger of the end. he wants to be taken - he wants to be had - but -
he's incapable of being loved. lestat doesn't understand what he's promising.
michael looks at lestat, and there's a pause that lasts for a second but feels like a lifetime. he changes. it's just for a second, but it's quick and eclipsing. all that cherubic, open innocence, the soft lips and rosy cheeks, it all just... fades. his skin turns white, like chalk, and his eyes hollow to a dark, endless black. the light in the room flickers, and when it stabilizes, michael is himself again. angelic. innocent. sweet. ]
You wouldn't make these promises if you knew who I was.
no subject
lestat feels real. he pushes michael back and michael smiles as he goes, walking backwards without resistance until his shoulderblades hit the wall. he wets his lips again and keeps his eyes wide, staring at lestat like he's afraid of missing even a second of this by blinking. he's completely and totally enraptured.
and lestat teases him. tells him what he wants. plays along. michael just watches, intrigued, still lightly smiling. ]
You can deny me all you like.
[ lestat shows his fangs, predatory and dangerous. michael wants them to tear him apart. he wants to feel his skin break beneath them, he wants to feel lightheaded as he loses himself to the pain, he wants lestat to pull orgasm after orgasm from his wrecked and ruined body while he drains him like a meal. he wants to be battered and bruised, just as much as he wants to batter and bruise in turn. ]
It's a nice fantasy. Being wanted. Being loved. But - that's all it is.
[ but no matter how much he might want that, and no matter how much he might be willing to throw himself into the lion's den just to feel a connection to something real - michael is, ultimately, the alpha. the predator of predators, the beast that rises from the sea, the harbinger of the end. he wants to be taken - he wants to be had - but -
he's incapable of being loved. lestat doesn't understand what he's promising.
michael looks at lestat, and there's a pause that lasts for a second but feels like a lifetime. he changes. it's just for a second, but it's quick and eclipsing. all that cherubic, open innocence, the soft lips and rosy cheeks, it all just... fades. his skin turns white, like chalk, and his eyes hollow to a dark, endless black. the light in the room flickers, and when it stabilizes, michael is himself again. angelic. innocent. sweet. ]
You wouldn't make these promises if you knew who I was.