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They briefly talked about it before in the past, many years ago when they still lived in New Orleans. At the time, Louis had been put off by the thought of taking Lestat in his sleep, but now that they're older and they’ve evolved, gained new preferences, he comes around to the concept. The desire strikes him early one evening when he wakes up flush against Lestat's backside, his erection pressed against Lestat's round ass.
They haven’t talked about it in their current relationship, but Louis knows Lestat won’t mind. When has Lestat ever complained about getting fucked? Lestat gave him permission to do this back then, so he doesn't see why he should need to ask for it now. Afterall, Louis being spontaneous is something that's always delighted him greatly.
Lestat is so warm as he sleeps beside him, wearing a thin sweater and sleep pants. They’ve been taking turns fucking each other for months now, rediscovering what they do and don’t like, not that Lestat ever has many complaints beyond petty things like; "Don't ruin my hair, Louis." They've also been trying out new things that they never got to do together in the past. Louis sees this as the perfect opportunity!
They're laying together in a plush floral coffin inside of Lestat’s Montreal home. Louis hates the coffin passionately, but he sometimes cuddles up to Lestat during the day and ignores the slight nausea of feeling trapped that coffins give him. This evening is different however, a pleasant feeling all over Louis’ body as his bulge rubs against Lestat’s plump ass. He remembers their conversation in NOLA, how he’d scowled and called him disgusting, or something else derogatory that he regrets now. How could something that feels so good ever be disgusting? Louis no longer denies himself these pleasures.
In the 80-some-odd years they’d been separated, Louis tried this a couple times with Armand. Armand usually didn’t wake up which was the agreed upon rule, and Louis really didn't mind. However, everything that he does with Lestat is different than how he was with Armand, and this time he intends on waking Lestat up with Lestat's favorite thing: Louis’ cock.
He nudges away Lestat's hair and kisses the back of his neck, lips teasing over the healed, light pink scar that wraps around the circumference of it. “Les?” he whispers, testing to see if he's awake. No response. Louis smiles to himself and reaches around Lestat to dig out their nearly empty bottle of lubricant from the corner of the coffin, half pressed between the wall and the mattress. Louis kisses his neck again and sucks the space behind his ear, drawing out an almost imperceptible sigh from Lestat’s lips.
Lestat sleeps with his arms up and one of his legs slightly angled upwards, knee bent, usually so Louis can slot his leg between them and snuggle with him. For this evening, his positioning is perfect for what Louis intends to do.
Louis gently slips his hand inside Lestat's pants, pulling them down over the swell of his ass cheeks, careful to go slow so he doesn’t wake him up just yet. Once Lestat's ass is free, Louis releases his own cock from his trousers, dryly thrusting up against the ass in front of him. This gets a small reaction out of Lestat, who groans and moves one of his arms over his face.
Louis fishes for the lubricant again and slicks up his fingers. He rubs the lube onto himself, giving his erection a few quick pulls between them. He rubs his cock between Lestat's slightly spread cheeks, teasing his relaxed entrance with the slick head. His puckered entrance tenses momentarily and Louis growls with hunger. Tight, warm. Louis could die happily.
Louis releases his dick and rubs two wet fingers against Lestat’s hole, slightly sinking the tip of one inside, but pulling out almost immediately. Lestat is so still and relaxed he might as well be dead, despite the soft sleepy sounds that fall from his parted lips and well, the fact that Lestat is dead, technically. Louis draws his fingers away and rubs his cock against him again. His tip catches on the rim and Louis gives an experimental push forward.
Lestat’s body is so pliant that he almost breaches him with hardly any effort. Louis gasps, has to squeeze the base of his cock for a second to keep himself from coming just at the thought of Lestat taking him so easily. He doesn’t want to hurt Lestat, after all this is supposed to be pleasurable for both of them, however Lestat’s loose, relaxed hole is so willing, so hot. Saliva pools around Louis' gums.
Usually, Louis would finger him open with two, sometimes even three fingers to make sure he was handsomely prepared to take Louis’ fairly substantial endowment. But on this evening, he can't bear the thought of wasting such precious time, not when Lestat's hole is already so eager for him.
Surely Lestat won’t mind, he rationalizes to himself as he pushes the head of his cock inside. Lestat stirs, whimpering sharply at the initial intrusion. “Shhh,” Louis presses a kiss to the back of his head, pulling his cock out before letting it slip back inside. He does this a few times, just pushing the head inside and letting it stretch him open until he isn’t whining and pawing at the mattress anymore. Lestat still isn’t fully awake, but his body jerks slightly when Louis gets too ahead of himself and thrusts inside too quickly.
One of Louis’ arms is still trapped under Lestat’s body from their sleeping position, and he curls his hand around Lestat's chest, pulling him backwards until Lestat's upper black flush against Louis' chest.
“This okay?” he breathes against his ear, holding Lestat tightly as he sinks deeper inside. Lestat whines, head falling back against Louis' shoulder. Louis' other hand grips at his hips, nails pressing into the soft bit of his skin that peaks out from his sleep pants. "Talk to me, baby.”
“Ça brûle,” Lestat whimpers, still half-asleep. His head lolls to the side, back on his pillow as if he's dozed off again, if he was ever really awake in the first place. His eyebrow twitches in slight discomfort and he tries to move his hips away with a soft, “non.” Louis holds him in place.
“No, baby. Stay here and warm me up.” Louis’ voice is hot and wet against his ear. He grinds against Lestat's ass when he's fully inside and then undulates his hips in the way that always makes Lestat lose his breath.
Lestat gasps, blue eyes flying open, hands swinging out to clutch at the body behind him. His first reaction is to push whoever is inside him away, but he doesn’t manage to do so in the cramped coffin. Louis stills his hips but keeps Lestat speared on him, hands firmly holding Lestat against him. Louis presses the softest kisses on his neck and over his rapid pulse, quickened by fear. “It’s just me,” Louis whispers. “Relax, Les--No, don’t tense up. It’s me.”
Lestat makes a high-pitched noise, not quite a real response. Louis kisses his head again, buries his nose in the silky strands. His hair smells like vanilla and the faintest tinge of blood sweat from sleep.
The hand on Lestat’s chest pets him, soothing circles against the soft fabric.
Lestat slowly relaxes again, pressing the weight of his ass back against Louis with a gasp.
“You remember?” Louis mumbles, moving his mouth back to Lestat’s ear, kissing the very top edge of his cartilage. “A long time ago you said you wanted this. I denied you then, but fuck baby you’re just so warm. 'Took me inside so perfectly.”
“A long time ago,” Lestat repeats, his voice heavy with arousal. Louis' cant see it, but Lestat's cock is hard and aching between his legs.
“How do you feel? Do you want me to stop?” He licks the back of Lestat's earlobe, nips at the skin underneath and growls quietly.
“No, no. I-it feels good. So possessive, my Louis. Taking what you want while I am sleeping."
Louis smiles and pulls his hips back, snapping forward into him roughly. Lestat chokes, head knocking back into Louis’ face. “You just laid there all limp and fucking–god, Les–you just took it.”
“Mmm, yeah?” Lestat swallows, gasps and licks his lips as he tries to concentrate. “Limp and useless as you forced your cock inside?” He reaches a hand back to grab the back of Louis’ hair, tugging his face closer so he can crane his neck and kiss him on the lips. Louis keeps rocking into him, his nails digging in deeper into his hip as he pulls him back on his cock. “Would you have stopped if I begged you to?" Lestat asks between sticky kisses. "Or would you have kept fucking me until you came, ignoring my discomfort?”
“Fuck,” Louis sighs and kisses him again and again, grunting in frustration when he’s not able to shove his tongue into his mouth at the awkward angle. “Would you be mad if I had?”
“Yes,” Lestat moans. He moves one of his hands out to the wall of the coffin for leverage as he starts to throw his ass back into Louis, fucking himself on his dick quickly, chasing his orgasm. “I’d be pissed off if you did that—and then I’d touch myself to the memory of you using me.” He throws his head back and gasps when Louis slams in just right. “NNnhhfuck, your cock, Louis. Touch me!”
Louis reaches around to stroke Lestat, flicking his thumb over his slit. He dips the nail into it, causing Lestat to hiss out “cunt!”
Lestat's hips jerks involuntarily in his hand, ripping him away from his cock. Lestat can't stand for that, and he refocuses his efforts on taking as much of Louis as possible and as fast as possible.
Thwack, thwack–-the sound of their skin slapping together reverberates through the coffin as they desperately rut back and forth into each other. Lestat’s breathing grows more and more ragged with each shared thrust. “Fuck, fuck, je peux sentir ton pouls,” he purposefully tenses his asshole, gripping Louis’ shaft tightly. He uses his grip to ride Louis to his own orgasm, milking out thick ropes of cum. “Yeah,” Lestat pants, his voice deep and husky with sleep. “Come in me, my love. Bite me. Show me who I belong to.”
Louis attacks his throat, fangs sinking into him ungracefully. Lestat convulses as he comes, his ejaculate squirting all over Louis’ hand.
Louis drinks from him as Lestat continues to fuck himself through his climax, taking in deep pulls of his maker's blood.
Louis comes inside him as he drinks, moaning languidly as Lestat squeezes his ass around him.
Louis withdraws his fangs, panting, blood dripping from his lips. “Oh, God, you’re killing me.”
Lestat laughs deliriously, eyes half rolled back as he gives his final, circular grinds into Louis’ cock.
As they come down, Louis clutches Lestat’s sweater and buries his face into his hair again, kissing and nuzzling him.
“Can we do this again sometime?” Louis whispers.
“Mmmm,” Lestat hums, turning halfway until he's on his back and looking up at Louis with hair stuck to his sweaty face. Louis smiles and brushes it from his temples, tucking it behind his ear. “Just prepare me more next time, ouais ? Don’t be so greedy, Louis.”
“Who said anything about it being you?” Louis arches his eyebrow. “Maybe I wanna wake up with you in me next time.”
“Oh? Tu donnes la permission ?” Lestat grins, “and preferably not in 80 years time?”
“Yeah,” Louis pecks Lestat’s cheek. “I give you permission, baby.”