[ It's more or less the reaction Armand expected to get and has been planning for since they started talking again, memories of dragging Lestat over the wet cobbles of Paris no doubt playing no small part. This has been a long time in the making between them; better to do it now than in front of their fledglings, or -- God forbid -- their elders.
He lands half on top of the table, breath punched out of his throat by Lestat's hand, unable to do more than half lift himself up on one hand before Lestat is on top of him again. Armand bares his teeth, but his legs rise up either side of Lestat's hips, ankles crossing behind him as he reaches up to sink a hand into Lestat's hair so he can drag him down and kiss him. ]
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He lands half on top of the table, breath punched out of his throat by Lestat's hand, unable to do more than half lift himself up on one hand before Lestat is on top of him again. Armand bares his teeth, but his legs rise up either side of Lestat's hips, ankles crossing behind him as he reaches up to sink a hand into Lestat's hair so he can drag him down and kiss him. ]