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“Mine are definitely bigger,” Daniel said.
“They most definitely are not,” Lestat replied.
They were standing in front of a floor-length mirror, their fangs out, Daniel’s left cheek pressed against Lestat’s right, so they could best compare the size of their canines. They were both lisping a little. (Daniel hadn’t expected the effect having big fangs would have on his speech to be quite this pronounced, but here they were.)
“Is that as far as yours go?” Daniel asked. His own fangs were fully extended but he wondered if Lestat’s were.
Lestat let out a dramatic gasp, took a step away from Daniel and turned to look at him directly instead of via the mirror. “Is this not enough for you, Daniel Molloy?” he asked, motioning not at his own mouth but down the entire length of his own body. “Are you what the youth would call a ‘size queen’?”
Daniel snorted. “You have got to get off Twitter. But sometimes, yeah.”
Definitely not all the time, though. Armand’s fangs were much smaller than Lestat’s and they were the most perfect thing Daniel had ever had in his veins.
“Yours are great,” Daniel told Lestat. “I just don’t want you holding out on me, is all.”
“Trust me, mon ami,” Lestat purred, “you are getting all of me.”
“They really are great,” Daniel admitted.
He loved riling Lestat up as much as the next guy, and fang size was about the most low hanging fruit there was with vamps with egomaniacal tendencies, but Daniel couldn’t bullshit him on this. Lestat looked like a fucking sabertooth tiger when his fangs were at full mast. Absolutely glorious.
And the rest of him wasn’t half bad either.
It wasn’t just a physical thing. As aggravating as Lestat was at least 51% of the time, Louis hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Lestat had a way about him.
Lestat hummed in agreement and they turned back towards the mirror almost simultaneously, pressing their cheeks together again.
“I still maintain mine are bigger, though,” Daniel said.
“And you’re still wrong about that.”
“I mean, I think they’re about the same length, but mine are broader. Wider. Like, towards the tip, yours are skinnier. More, uh, tapered.”
“More elegant,” Lestat corrected. “But yes, yours are more blunt.”
“They’re not blunt.” Daniel frowned and automatically reached for one of his own fangs to test their sharpness. And promptly sliced open his thumb. “Ow, shit,” he hissed, shaking his hand like that would do him any good. “Don’t know what I expected, really,” he confessed sheepishly.
Daniel had moved away from Lestat a little upon cutting himself, and instinctively retracted his fangs, but the two vampires were still standing very closely together.
Lestat took Daniel’s hand in his and inspected the cut. “Poor little fledgling,” he cooed, lisping a little on the last word because he still had his own fangs fully out. “Doesn’t know his own strength.” And then he took Daniel’s entire thumb into his mouth, down to the fucking root.
For a second, Daniel was torn between barking out an incredulous laugh and telling Lestat to fuck off, but Lestat was giving him the sluttiest look anyone had given Daniel this century, his pupils dilating at the taste of Daniel’s blood while he moved his mouth back up then back down Daniel’s thumb.
All the blood that had until then been inside Daniel’s brain made a beeline straight for Daniel’s dick and all that came out of Daniel’s mouth was a pathetically horny, “Uhh.”
“Jesus Christ, will you two get a room, already?” TC groaned from where she was slumped on a sofa between two randos.
Daniel had kind of forgotten the humans where even there. In his defence, he wasn’t exactly sober. Neither was Lestat, or anyone in his entourage. They all took the sex and drugs part of rock ‘n’ roll very seriously. Daniel hadn’t done this much coke since before he knew vampires were real.
Lestat pulled off of Daniel’s thumb with a wet plop. “Cookie.”
“What? You guys clearly need to fuck about it. This is worse than when I walked in on whatever the fuck you freaks were up to in the shower between Oakland and Reseda.”
“Yeah, you probably should have knocked that time,” Daniel said.
“On what fucking door?”
“Who walks in when people are taking a shower?”
“Who puts a shower in the middle of a tour bus?” TC shot back, and Daniel had to admit (to himself) that that had been a wild fucking design choice.
“Cookie,” Lestat repeated.
“What?”
“This is my room.”
“Oh.” She looked around the room, then back at Lestat and Daniel. “Right.”
They weren’t on the tour bus right now, but backstage at a weirdly swanky venue somewhere in...Colorado?
“Well,” TC said, clapping both hands to the top of her thighs. “I'll just leave you to it, then.”
Lestat hummed. “And take your little...friends with you,” he added, wriggling his fingers at the people on either side of her like the mere concept of friends was beneath him. He was still holding Daniel’s wrist with his other hand.
TC and the girl sitting to her right, who had been watching the exchange between the drummer and the vampires with her mouth slightly agape, stood up. The third person on the sofa, some shirtless guy with long black hair, seemed to be asleep. TC shook his arm. “Hey man, it’s time to get up. Come on.”
“What’s happening?” the guy asked with an Eastern European accent, his voice so groggy Daniel was pretty sure he didn’t know what year it was, or what planet he was on.
“Diva wants us out.”
“Do not call me a diva,” Lestat said.
“Don’t be one, then,” TC replied without looking back at him.
Lestat huffed out an affronted and decidedly divaesque, “Ugh!”
TC ignored him. She managed to get the shirtless guy onto his feet and he somehow managed to stay on them. “Come on,” TC, repeated.
“Where are we going?”
“Out. Maybe get a bite to eat?” TC started to steer him towards the door, her hands on his shoulders.
“God, yes,” the girl said. “I want Taco Bell.”
“Taco Bell? Seriously?” TC asked.
“Do they not do Taco Bell in Colorado?”
“We’ll get you some real food, okay?”
The shirtless guy suddenly stopped walking, almost causing the two women to pile up behind him. “What about him?” he asked, pointing to the other sofa, where everyone had forgotten Salamander had passed out face-down with an enormous fur coat over his head (and minus one shoe).
“Oh, he’s not waking up any time soon,” Daniel said, speaking from experience. He’d only known Salamander for a couple of weeks, but that was long enough to learn that, unlike the rest of the band, he could not hold his liquor.
“He’s not dead, is he?” the girl asked.
Salamander answered that question himself by snoring loudly, just once.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Daniel added.
“Just leave him,” Lestat said.
The three humans started moving towards the exit again.
“What about Five Guys?” The girl asked. “Do they have that in Colorado?
To that, TC just said, “Girl.”
They finally made their way out of the room and the door slammed shut behind them, courtesy of Lestat’s Mind Gift.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Lestat said, turning back to Daniel. “Where were we?”
“You were fellating my thumb,” Daniel deadpanned.
“Ah, yes.” Lestat looked Daniel up and down in his entirety, like he was assessing which other parts of Daniel might be worth fellating.
Daniel inspected the thumb in question. “Cut’s closed up, though.”
“Pity. You’ve sheathed your fangs,” Lestat suddenly pointed out.
Daniel stupidly reached for his own canines again to confirm. “Do you need them back out?”
“I need them inside me.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Do you, now?”
The eyebrow raise was mostly for effect, not because Daniel was actually surprised at Lestat making a pass at him. Again. Lestat fucked anything with holes, and vampire blood was one hell of an aphrodisiac. And Daniel still had it, in his own, not-too-humble opinion. Of course Lestat wanted another piece of him.
Lestat shrugged like it was all the same to him. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Daniel said with the same feigned nonchalance.
Lestat grinned widely at that, and Daniel couldn’t help but grin, too.
“Where do you want them?” Daniel asked.
Lestat hummed and tapped his own chin with his finger. “I’ll let you decide.”
That seemed suspicious to Daniel. Lestat was almost more of a control freak than Armand was, albeit in a very different way. He didn’t let other people decide Jack shit if he could help it.
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
“No catch,” Lestat repeated. “Just some fun between two consenting immortals. Now pick before I tire of waiting. I am not a patient man.”
Daniel’s dick also wasn’t patient, and it was the body part in charge of Daniel’s decision-making just then. Daniel let his eyes rove over Lestat’s body. The Frenchman looked extremely biteable all over. He was wearing a torn mesh top that completely covered his arms but left his left nipple fully exposed.
Daniel wanted his mouth on that nipple. Right now.
“Well, I’ve, uh, always been a boob guy,” he said without looking away from Lestat’s chest. His fangs were itching to come out again, so he let them.
Lestat chuckled, grabbed the bottom of the mesh shirt with both hands and pulled it off over his head with one fluid gesture. Daniel felt himself starting to salivate. He lifted both hands to grab at Lestat’s chest, but Lestat grabbed both of Daniel’s wrists before Daniel could reach him.
“Come,” Lestat said, and he started walking backwards towards the sofa TC and the other two humans had just vacated, pulling Daniel with him. He let go of Daniel when they reached the sofa and draped himself over the piece of furniture like he was about to ask Daniel to draw him like one of his French girls.
“You ever seen Titanic?” Daniel asked while he took in the view.
“No, Louis and I were in New Orleans when it set sail, and when it went down.”
“I meant the movie, but never mind.” Daniel definitely had more important things to think about at the moment.
“Come,” Lestat repeated.
Daniel took off and tossed aside his leather jacket. Then he lowered himself down onto the sofa as well, one knee between Lestat’s legs, one hand resting next to Lestat’s left side, the other just above his right shoulder, so he’d be able to lower his head down towards Lestat’s nipple.
Lestat let out a soft, low growl from the back of his throat, and arched up towards Daniel, presenting himself.
Fuck.
Daniel growled, too. He dipped down to just below his target and ran his tongue up the scar on Lestat’s chest, enjoying the feel of its raised texture.
Lestat grabbed Daniel’s shoulders and prompted him to move up faster, his third ‘Come’ coming out a little whiny.
Impatient brat.
Luckily for him, Daniel's urge to make him wait for it was absolutely no match for his urge to get his fangs into Lestat’s pec right the fuck now. Daniel opened his mouth as wide as he could and sank his fangs in just above Lestat’s nipple, covering the nipple itself with his mouth.
The sensation of Lestat’s blood hitting his taste buds was like being tased right in the prostate, and it struck Daniel that he’d never actually tasted another vampire’s blood since he had become one himself. He and Armand had exchanged plenty of blood when Daniel was young, and while Armand had turned him of course, but never since.
And maybe it was just because Daniel was a vampire now, or the drugs in their systems, or maybe Lestat was a particularly fancy vintage, or all of the above, but it was the best fucking thing ever.
Fuck the rings of Saturn and back, this was zapping Daniel to places the light from the Big Bang hadn’t reached yet. And it was a whole-body experience.
He took a deep pull, and another one, swirling his tongue over Lestat’s nipple between swallows. He could feel Lestat’s heart pounding in his mouth, in his gums, could hear the blood rushing through their respective veins and into their respective dicks.
This wasn’t just taste or food or sex. It felt like Daniel was learning things he hadn’t known he hadn’t known. He couldn’t articulate what, but it was so, so good. An absolutely next-level high.
And then Lestat was pulling him off. Daniel heard himself whine mournfully. He didn’t ever want to stop feeling like this. Two mouthfuls wasn’t enough. He needed at least two more, and then maybe two more after that.
“Greedy,” Lestat said, but there was no real reproach in it. It sounded like he was quite pleased with how hungry Daniel was for him. When it became clear Daniel wasn’t going to fight Lestat’s putting an end to the exchange, the older vampire let go of him.
“Fuck,” Daniel breathed hoarsely, resting his forehead against Lestat’s sternum. He felt both extremely buzzed and completely boneless, like he’d just orgasmed (though he didn’t think he had). “Christ, Frenchie. You taste...”
“...luscious? Heavenly? Omnipote – ”
“Full of it,” Daniel cut him off with a scowl. Yeah, all of those words had indeed applied to Lestat’s blood, but Daniel wasn’t going to tell him that. Not now, anyway.
“You flatter me.”
Lestat was trying to play it cool, but his chest was heaving like he was the heroine in a good old-fashioned bodice ripper, his pupils were the size of silver dollars, and he was – not particularly subtly – grinding his enormous erection against Daniel’s thigh.
Daniel ground back a little.
“My turn,” Lestat declared, and Daniel almost fell off the sofa while Lestat manhandled him onto his back, so their positions were reversed. Once he’d landed on top, Lestat started pulling Daniel’s button-up and T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I want it?” Daniel asked.
“No,” Lestat said simply. “I want it here.” He pushed Daniel’s knees apart, then slapped the inside of Daniel’s right thigh, a little harder than necessary.
That seemed like an excellent place to be bitten to Daniel. “Okay.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They reached for the button of Daniel’s jeans at the same time. After a two-second slap fight that Daniel somehow won, Daniel undid his button and fly. Lestat barely waited for Daniel to lift his hips before he was yanking down Daniel’s pants, making sure to take his boxers down with them.
Lestat froze when Daniel’s cock sprang free.
“Mister Molloy,” he said, his tone halfway between scandalized and impressed. As if he hadn’t gotten up close and personal with it that time in the shower. Or two or three times after that.
Daniel just rolled with it. “Well, you know what they say about guys with big fangs.”
Lestat hummed in affirmation. “Big shoes.”
Daniel barked out a laugh while Lestat dragged his jeans further down his legs, until they were just above his ankles. Daniel tried to sit up to take off his boots, but Lestat pushed him back down, pushed his knees apart again and sank his enormous fangs into Daniel’s inner thigh.
“Fuck, Frenchie,” Daniel groaned for the second time that night.
Lestat hummed again, deep and from the back of his throat. Daniel felt it reverberate through his veins, and right down to the tip of his cock.
Lestat putting his fangs in Daniel was just as incredible as Daniel putting his own fangs into Lestat had been, but not in the exact same way. It was, Daniel thought, not caring one iota about the lack of subtlety in the comparison, the difference between fucking someone and being fucked. Daniel was definitely a fan of both, and goddamn, was Lestat a great lay either way.
His fangs really were huge (though Daniel still maintained his had more mass to them) and it felt like they were close to hitting bone.
Daniel tried pushing up into the bite, but with the way Lestat was holding down his thighs, and with his pants still holding his ankles together, Daniel’s lower body was basically completely immobilized. That really did it for him, though. He relaxed into the sofa cushions and let it all wash over him in waves of blinding pleasure.
He was definitely going to cum this time. Maybe he was already doing it.
He was trying to remember where his arms were so he could reach down to check when the feeling – all the good, delicious sensations – suddenly went away. It took Daniel a second to realize that that was because Lestat had pulled out his fangs. The puncture holes they had left felt sadly empty.
“Don’t... Don’t stop.”
Daniel reached up towards Lestat, but Lestat had gotten to his feet and was standing just outside his reach.
“More,” Daniel croaked through a haze of lust.
“I would gladly drain you dry,” Lestat said, “but apparently this documentary requires a director.”
Daniel made a face. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
“Yes. But then you would know.”
Lestat started undoing the button on his own pants.
Daniel let out an emphatic, “Yes,” which could technically be interpreted as him agreeing that he himself was also an asshole, but was really just meant to convey his enthusiasm about Lestat getting out of those pants (and potentially into Daniel).
Lestat’s pants – his ridiculous, skin-tight, Italian leather pants – were much less enthusiastic about parting with Lestat. Lestat had some kind of system for peeling them off that involved a lot of gyrating motions. It was nice to look at, but it was taking too long.
It gave Daniel enough time to establish the fact that he still hadn’t cum yet, and that if he didn’t get to soon, he might die all over again. “Come on, man.”
“Patience, fledgling,” Lestat said, but it was obvious he was getting frustrated by the delay as well. He finally managed to get his pants down over the swell of his ass and his own considerable considerables. He plopped his bare ass down on the sofa at Daniel’s feet, wrestled off his boots and then – finally – freed his legs from their leather prison.
He was completely naked now.
Which was nice but also unfair, because Daniel was still trapped by his own pants, and his shirt had only been rucked up to expose part of his torso.
Priorities, his dick told him, as Lestat crawled up the sofa and started lowering himself down over Daniel again.
“Yeah. Yes,” Daniel said, reaching for him, adjusting his own hips just a little, so he was positioned just right for their cocks to end up in top of each other.
Lestat didn’t lower himself down completely, though. He kept himself pushed up on his arms while overly carefully lining up his cock next to Daniel’s, not giving Daniel nearly enough friction.
He adjusted a little, and a little more. And a little more... All while looking down at their two frankly enormous dicks.
Daniel scoffed when he realized what Lestat was doing. “You want me to find a measuring tape?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lestat said. He paused just long enough to cause maximum irritation when he added, “Mine is obviously bigger.”
“The Hell it is. I’m getting a measuring tape right no – ”
Daniel made a half-hearted attempt to stand up, but Lestat easily pushed him back down.
“No, you’re not.”
Daniel didn’t argue. He had other priorities. Like getting his dick wet. Or his fangs. “Can I bite your ass?”
“Maybe some other time.”
“Maybe now?” Daniel tried. No time like the present and Lestat’s ass was already out anyway. As were Daniel’s fangs, still.
“Spoiled, greedy fledgling,” Lestat chided dispassionately.
“Spoiled? How am I spoiled? My maker fucked off the second the post-fang clarity hit, and stepmaker dearest is not returning my call – ”
“Fatherless behavior,” Lestat added like Daniel hadn’t been talking.
“Christ, you really spend too much time onli – ”
“You’re a terrible brat – ”
“See, I’m hearing a lot of projection here, and – ”
“And someone should take you –
– in hand.”
Daniel shut right up after that, because Lestat had wrapped his right hand around both their cocks – it was a tight fit, despite Lestat having huge paws – and Daniel really couldn’t argue with that.
“Are you going to behave?” Lestat asked.
“Are you going to move that hand?”
“Perhaps.”
Lestat shifted so his entire weight was on his knees, and stuck his other, now-free hand between the back of the sofa and Daniel’s thigh.
“Uh, my ass is up here?” Daniel said.
Lestat ignored him and started rooting around between the sofa cushions.
Just when Daniel was about to ask him what the fuck he was doing, Lestat pulled his hand back up. It was now holding a half-empty bottle of lube. It was Lestat’s regular brand, some fancy French shit he got imported. Probably cost at least a hundred bucks an ounce, and they were going through gallons each week.
Daniel rolled his eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” Lestat said, misinterpreting the eye roll. “Americans and their peculiar obsession with removing perfectly good foreskin. We never used to need lubrication for this.”
Daniel didn’t buy that. Besides – “You don’t actually think Americans invented circumcision, do you?”
Lestat didn’t answer. He popped open the cap and squirted a stupid amount of lube onto both their dicks.
“Fuck,” Daniel breathed.
“That was the idea.”
Lestat tossed the bottle over his shoulder and finally started jacking them both off, quickly building up to a speed and ferocity that would have permanently injured a human’s wrist and potentially have ripped any mortal’s dick clean off.
Daniel liked it a little rough, though. He needed it. He swore under his breath, egging Lestat on, digging his nails into Lestat’s ass and thrusting up into his hand with short, frantic motions.
Lestat laughed, breathlessly. Daniel didn’t know if he was laughing at him or with him but he really couldn’t care. They were both careening towards the finish line at a breakneck pace and that was all that mattered right now.
Lestat’s face was close to Daniel’s, close enough that he could feel his ragged breath but not quite close enough to kiss (that wasn’t something they had ever done while hooking up). His teeth were still tinged pink with Daniel’s blood. It looked fucking hot.
“Are you going to bite me again?” Daniel asked.
“No.”
“Asshole.”
Lestat laughed again, then came, squeezing their dicks hard as he did so, which was just what it took to set Daniel off as well.
They grunted and convulsed and painted themselves and each other red with their cum. (Yeah, Daniel was never getting used to that.)
Lestat had been holding himself up with his left arm the entire time, but now he let himself fall down onto Daniel’s chest, knocking the wind right out of the younger vampire.
Daniel could take it, though. Daniel could take so much these days, and he wanted it all.
He might be underneath Lestat right now, but he was on top of the fucking world.
They stayed like that for a while, their breathing and heartbeats slowly evening back out.
After a couple of minutes, someone groaned, but it wasn’t Daniel or Lestat. Daniel turned his head to look towards the other sofa.
They’d forgotten about Salamander again.
The bass player was sitting up on his knees with unfocused eyes and a terrible case of bed hair. “What’s happening?” he asked no one in particular.
“Nothing,” Daniel said.
“Go back to sleep,” Lestat added. He didn’t look up, but he lifted a hand in Salamander’s general direction, after which Salamander faceplanted back into the sofa.
Daniel snorted, then yawned widely. He should get back onto the tour bus; the sun would be coming up soon and, unlike some people, Daniel was far from UV-proof.
When Daniel closed his mouth again, he caught Lestat staring at it. “What?” he lisped around his fangs.
“Mine are definitely bigger,” Lestat lisped around his.
“Oh, fuck off.”
Daniel shoved Lestat’s shoulder.
Instead of being completely unaffected by Daniel’s shove like Daniel had expected, Lestat decided to be dramatic about it and let himself roll off of the sofa. He took Daniel with him and they crashed to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs and bodily fluids, bonking their heads together as they went.
“Fuck!” Daniel spat out a mouthful of blood. “Pierced my fucking lip.”