This sentiment, whispered fiercely, causes Lestat's eyes to blur, sting. Nodding, leaning back in, kissing him, clumsy but sweet.
Well, Louis knows what he's doing. Louis is not that much younger than Lestat was when Lestat made him, and has had harder lessons ever since. So no more words on this, just kisses, gaining a little urgency, teeth, the graze of blunt human teeth against Louis' lip before he presses forehead to forehead.
"I still do," he tells him. "I know you."
A stubborn refusal to acknowledge Armand making his mark, maybe, but he believes it. Louis is here, recognisable to him.
Lestat wants to hear three words from Louis. He's offered them to Louis before, spoken them freely. Louis been greedy for them too, greedy to hear Lestat profess his love.
But Lestat says something else in this moment, and Louis feels the words catch him square in the chest. Feels tears prick at his eyes.
It is, maybe unintentionally, what Louis has wanted most to hear.
"Say that again," he asks, finger curling over Lestat's heart. Nails scrape, small lines over the skin, as if Louis could touch his heart. Possess it.
Louis could ask Lestat to bark like a dog and he would, with willing and enthusiasm. It is no chore to repeat himself, which he does,
"I know you,"
with a subtle application of emphasis, fingers splayed across the back of Louis' neck, tipping his head so he can kiss him again. "I wanted to," he tells him, "ever since one violent summer evening, everyone hot blooded and hungry, but none so much as you. I have made it my work and my pleasure, knowing you. And I know you now."
A rueful little twist to his mouth as he adds, "And you know me." For better or worse.
After almost a century. After what Armand had done. What lost memories and lost time and passing years had made of Louis.
Lestat knows him. Recognizes him.
It steals Louis' breath to hear him say it. To repeat it.
"I do," Louis tells him. "I know you now."
Sees Lestat clearer now than he did then, maybe. The benefit of passing time. Of Daniel. Of sifting through his life and recognizing what had been done, what had been lost.
Louis leans in. Kisses that little rueful flex of Lestat's mouth. Stays there, close, kissing him softly as he does.
It is kissed away as Lestat returns this affection, soft and lingering. Body shifting to settle closer where he straddles Louis' lap, arms sliding around him. Less like he is clinging and more like he is keeping Louis, locking him inside the circle of his embrace, for all that Lestat is currently a frailer creature.
It invokes a twinge of feeling in him, the idea of decades passing and Louis having some new perspective of Lestat. Decides that he likes this feeling, that it's welcome.
Maybe this is love. Knowing someone this way, and wanting them. Maybe it's the same. And if he still wants the thing said out loud, well. He's a romantic, what can be said?
"And I wish to know the years we have been apart," he says, between kisses. "Whenever you are ready to tell me them, Louis."
"Not tonight," Louis says softly. "But yeah. We gonna talk about what's gone out while we been away from each other."
A promise.
They shouldn't keep secrets. And it isn't a secret, not really, it's only that Louis doesn't know how to say it all the right way. The way that won't have Lestat looking at him with pity.
They'll find their way. Louis trusts that much at least. They'll find their way forward, together.
He slides both arms around Lestat's waist, draws him more securely into his lap. Lets Lestat hold him in return, takes comfort in this. They fit together, just as they always have.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Louis sets a hand to Lestat's chest, over where his heart beats. His thumb strokes back and forth, steady, while Louis looks into Lestat's face.
Explains, soft, "I don't want to change him. I just wanna give him what you gave me."
A gift.
It had taken Louis such a long time to understand that.
"You saved me," Louis whispers. Then, fiercely, "You saw me. I was lost, and you saw me."
no subject
Well, Louis knows what he's doing. Louis is not that much younger than Lestat was when Lestat made him, and has had harder lessons ever since. So no more words on this, just kisses, gaining a little urgency, teeth, the graze of blunt human teeth against Louis' lip before he presses forehead to forehead.
"I still do," he tells him. "I know you."
A stubborn refusal to acknowledge Armand making his mark, maybe, but he believes it. Louis is here, recognisable to him.
no subject
But Lestat says something else in this moment, and Louis feels the words catch him square in the chest. Feels tears prick at his eyes.
It is, maybe unintentionally, what Louis has wanted most to hear.
"Say that again," he asks, finger curling over Lestat's heart. Nails scrape, small lines over the skin, as if Louis could touch his heart. Possess it.
no subject
"I know you,"
with a subtle application of emphasis, fingers splayed across the back of Louis' neck, tipping his head so he can kiss him again. "I wanted to," he tells him, "ever since one violent summer evening, everyone hot blooded and hungry, but none so much as you. I have made it my work and my pleasure, knowing you. And I know you now."
A rueful little twist to his mouth as he adds, "And you know me." For better or worse.
no subject
Lestat knows him. Recognizes him.
It steals Louis' breath to hear him say it. To repeat it.
"I do," Louis tells him. "I know you now."
Sees Lestat clearer now than he did then, maybe. The benefit of passing time. Of Daniel. Of sifting through his life and recognizing what had been done, what had been lost.
Louis leans in. Kisses that little rueful flex of Lestat's mouth. Stays there, close, kissing him softly as he does.
no subject
It invokes a twinge of feeling in him, the idea of decades passing and Louis having some new perspective of Lestat. Decides that he likes this feeling, that it's welcome.
Maybe this is love. Knowing someone this way, and wanting them. Maybe it's the same. And if he still wants the thing said out loud, well. He's a romantic, what can be said?
"And I wish to know the years we have been apart," he says, between kisses. "Whenever you are ready to tell me them, Louis."
are we approaching bow territory
A promise.
They shouldn't keep secrets. And it isn't a secret, not really, it's only that Louis doesn't know how to say it all the right way. The way that won't have Lestat looking at him with pity.
They'll find their way. Louis trusts that much at least. They'll find their way forward, together.
He slides both arms around Lestat's waist, draws him more securely into his lap. Lets Lestat hold him in return, takes comfort in this. They fit together, just as they always have.