[ lestat's soft little laugh, the way he blushes, the duck of his head - it's too sweet, and it makes adam's chest flutter, a thousand of his own butterflies taking wing. he smiles into the kiss, once again not caring about the blood or the tears, thinking only of the man in his arms and the depth of his feelings for that man. here in the dark of the venue, in this half-hidden spot out of the way, it is quiet. it is peaceful. no staff will come to interrupt them; no cruel twist of fate will find them.
mon amour lestat says, and adam realizes something: all the names lestat calls him, all the ones adam can remember, always begin with that single word. my. my little one. my darling. my love. always a possessive. perhaps lestat never meant them quite that way; perhaps it's simply a strange feature of his mother tongue - whatever the case, adam does not care. he belongs to lestat, and lestat to him.
it's his turn to laugh a little as the vampire tugs him in close, those strong arms lifting him easily. his limbs settle around the larger man and he grins at the way lestat tries to burrow his way as deep as possible inside of adam, one hand wrapping around his waist and the other moving to card fingers through his hair. it's quickly becoming a habit, a way that adam can comfort lestat without being overbearing.
still, the news of the cancellation takes him by surprise, and he goes still for a moment as he processes it. ]
Are you sure?
[ he does not sound judgmental, simply curious. his words are soft in lestat's ear now. ]
I didn't mean to... y'know.
[ trigger your trauma so badly that you need to take a night off, is what he's trying to say. ]
[ a disapproving sound at adam's implied apology. lestat huffs against his skin, noses there in reassurance.]
Do not think of apologising for expressing yourself, whether you intended to or not. Your capacity for feeling so strongly is admirable, a strength so often hidden by many.
[ a puff of amusement, his little smile likely felt where he presses his mouth to the warmth of adam's neck.]
It is what I deserve for peering into your mind so often, no?
[ the noise of disapproval makes worry cloud adam's mind for a moment, but it's quickly swept away when lestat speaks. the praise fills him instead with a warm sense of comfort and he snuggles in closer, nosing at the skin near lestat's temple, inhaling the scent of him. the smell of makeup and hairspray is prominent, more than usual, and adam has to remind himself that it's okay, that cancelling one show isn't going to be the end of the world.
he can feel that smile, too, and that helps. what lestat says next makes him chuckle, but it also teases a thought out of adam, one that's been in the back of his head for a while now: ]
What's it like, when you do that? Can you, like... hear everything I'm thinking? Or do you see stuff? Or... how does it work?
[ the fact that lestat has been able to communicate with him - to hear him - seems wild in and of itself. adam can't even imagine what he's truly capable of. ]
[ even whilst he is not actively skimming adam's mind, the closeness between them acts almost as a proxy; lestat's conscious awareness of adam's cyclical breathing, the beating of his heart just as clear a communication as his words. the very subtle tension in his muscles as his moods change, felt easily with him wrapped around the vampire like this. so the happy snuggle is an echoing balm to him, one that encourages lestat to sigh in contentment, tipping his head back to press reassuring kisses to the corner of adam's jaw. delightful boy. ]
Mm, it is as if I am surrounded by many windows, all with a glimpse into one's unique theatrical monologue. If I choose to get closer to one and peer through, often I can hear their lines, watch the performance. Even memories, when played out, are a subjective truth. Warped by perception in their reenactment. All of us actors, telling ourselves stories of our thoughts and feelings of the world around us.
[ a pause, a low hum against adam's skin. ]
It is the body's automatic functions that add context, that are an objective truth no matter the lies the mind tells. I could witness the Adam in your mind give a very compelling performance on how unafraid he is - you may even believe it. But until I hear your pulse slow and scent the adrenaline fading, it is not truly what you are feeling.
[ adam sits, enraptured, as lestat describes the nature of this strange gift he possesses. it's so much more than the simple mindreading he expected - things he's seen on television or read in books don't come anywhere close to matching the depth of power lestat explains to him.
adam did not do well in school, and so the language lestat uses often flies over his head. but the feeling he evokes is enormous, and the gentle affections he bestows upon his human pet as he speaks are the sort of background noise that adam always works best with. his brow knits as he processes what the other tells him, a soft sound rising in his throat as his mind works to make sense of it all. ]
You can hear my heartbeat?
[ logically, of course, it makes perfect sense - surely the physical aspects of someone living would be easy enough for a being with supernatural powers to understand. yet it is those same physical aspects that adam is impressed by, even more than the fact that lestat knows what he's thinking. it's intimate in a way he does not quite know how to deal with and he ends up clinging even closer, simultaneously afraid and in awe of this enormous piece of knowledge. ]
What else?
[ he looks up, eyes shining with curiosity. dangerous, perhaps, but there nonetheless. ]
What else can you hear? Can you see things I can't? Or smell, or --
[ lestat draws back slightly to look down into adam's face in mild surprise. tilts his head, contemplating if he had indeed mentioned it or not - had he? perhaps in passing. but it was cute, adam's sincere interest. it made him feel important, like he was not just a monstrous man cursed with the need to brutalise. a silly thing to relish, for an immortal rockstar vampire, but adam was important. his opinions were important, to him. ]
Oui, your heartbeat. Little things about your body, sounds, trace scents. My senses are sharpened, I am as in tune with other bodies akin to other animals, predators. Tracking the blood as it pumps through your heart, scenting adrenaline when you are scared, the pheromones when you are worked up and wish to fuck.
[ he combs his fingers back through adam's hair, looking down into his face fondly. ]
It is not as supernatural as you may anticipate. Just an enhancement across the greater range of all senses, to allow me to hunt more efficiently. The mind gift, however - that is different. All vampirekind are joined in their awareness of each other, as if tuned into a grand radio. It can be loud, for those new to the blood and unable to tune it out.
There are other gifts, too. I am able to taste emotions in the blood, flick through memories like film. When taking a life, their stories pour through me if I am willing to witness them.
[ his lips purse, hesitation spreading over his features. ]
- I confess that it did not occur to me to divulge this to you sooner. I have been privy to some of your private memories and thoughts in this manner, during my feeding. I choose to close it out, when I am able, but - when we are close, in moments after - your thoughts flow to me as effortlessly as my own.
[ like the first time he had caught a glimpse of that terrible bathroom lit by sickly fluorescents, with the grime and the chains. it was not a sight that he had wished to see in the slightest, yet it presented to him, unbidden. ]
[ it's dizzying, the extent to which lestat knows him. adam knows they've grown close but hearing all this makes him realize just how much information lestat has access to - the mention of pheromones alone is enough to bring a faint blush to his cheeks. his brows knit together as he continues to listen, considering what this all means.
if lestat could hear other vampires, did that mean they could hear him, too? would one of them - louis, maybe, or even that armand guy - be angry, if they knew adam was around lestat so often, so intimately? it's scary to think about, and once again adam is left feeling very, very small in comparison to this new world he's been thrust into.
yet, more than any of that, the thing that sticks in his mind is what lestat tells him next: that he's seen adam's memories. the flush fades as he realizes what that might mean, his face going pale and eyes widening as flashes of the worst times of his life cross his mind. it's not the breach of privacy that bothers him; he couldn't care less, not now that they've grown so close. no, instead -- ]
Did you see it?
[ a hint of fear taints his voice now. ]
That night. In the bathroom.
[ blood and mildew and smoke and death. ]
Did you see -- him?
[ does he mean the doctor? or the man that he thought had been dead, only to rise and free him as a reward for becoming a murderer? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
how dare WE ðŸ˜ðŸ’–
mon amour lestat says, and adam realizes something: all the names lestat calls him, all the ones adam can remember, always begin with that single word. my. my little one. my darling. my love. always a possessive. perhaps lestat never meant them quite that way; perhaps it's simply a strange feature of his mother tongue - whatever the case, adam does not care. he belongs to lestat, and lestat to him.
it's his turn to laugh a little as the vampire tugs him in close, those strong arms lifting him easily. his limbs settle around the larger man and he grins at the way lestat tries to burrow his way as deep as possible inside of adam, one hand wrapping around his waist and the other moving to card fingers through his hair. it's quickly becoming a habit, a way that adam can comfort lestat without being overbearing.
still, the news of the cancellation takes him by surprise, and he goes still for a moment as he processes it. ]
Are you sure?
[ he does not sound judgmental, simply curious. his words are soft in lestat's ear now. ]
I didn't mean to... y'know.
[ trigger your trauma so badly that you need to take a night off, is what he's trying to say. ]
no subject
Do not think of apologising for expressing yourself, whether you intended to or not. Your capacity for feeling so strongly is admirable, a strength so often hidden by many.
[ a puff of amusement, his little smile likely felt where he presses his mouth to the warmth of adam's neck.]
It is what I deserve for peering into your mind so often, no?
no subject
he can feel that smile, too, and that helps. what lestat says next makes him chuckle, but it also teases a thought out of adam, one that's been in the back of his head for a while now: ]
What's it like, when you do that? Can you, like... hear everything I'm thinking? Or do you see stuff? Or... how does it work?
[ the fact that lestat has been able to communicate with him - to hear him - seems wild in and of itself. adam can't even imagine what he's truly capable of. ]
no subject
Mm, it is as if I am surrounded by many windows, all with a glimpse into one's unique theatrical monologue. If I choose to get closer to one and peer through, often I can hear their lines, watch the performance. Even memories, when played out, are a subjective truth. Warped by perception in their reenactment. All of us actors, telling ourselves stories of our thoughts and feelings of the world around us.
[ a pause, a low hum against adam's skin. ]
It is the body's automatic functions that add context, that are an objective truth no matter the lies the mind tells. I could witness the Adam in your mind give a very compelling performance on how unafraid he is - you may even believe it. But until I hear your pulse slow and scent the adrenaline fading, it is not truly what you are feeling.
no subject
adam did not do well in school, and so the language lestat uses often flies over his head. but the feeling he evokes is enormous, and the gentle affections he bestows upon his human pet as he speaks are the sort of background noise that adam always works best with. his brow knits as he processes what the other tells him, a soft sound rising in his throat as his mind works to make sense of it all. ]
You can hear my heartbeat?
[ logically, of course, it makes perfect sense - surely the physical aspects of someone living would be easy enough for a being with supernatural powers to understand. yet it is those same physical aspects that adam is impressed by, even more than the fact that lestat knows what he's thinking. it's intimate in a way he does not quite know how to deal with and he ends up clinging even closer, simultaneously afraid and in awe of this enormous piece of knowledge. ]
What else?
[ he looks up, eyes shining with curiosity. dangerous, perhaps, but there nonetheless. ]
What else can you hear? Can you see things I can't? Or smell, or --
no subject
Oui, your heartbeat. Little things about your body, sounds, trace scents. My senses are sharpened, I am as in tune with other bodies akin to other animals, predators. Tracking the blood as it pumps through your heart, scenting adrenaline when you are scared, the pheromones when you are worked up and wish to fuck.
[ he combs his fingers back through adam's hair, looking down into his face fondly. ]
It is not as supernatural as you may anticipate. Just an enhancement across the greater range of all senses, to allow me to hunt more efficiently. The mind gift, however - that is different. All vampirekind are joined in their awareness of each other, as if tuned into a grand radio. It can be loud, for those new to the blood and unable to tune it out.
There are other gifts, too. I am able to taste emotions in the blood, flick through memories like film. When taking a life, their stories pour through me if I am willing to witness them.
[ his lips purse, hesitation spreading over his features. ]
- I confess that it did not occur to me to divulge this to you sooner. I have been privy to some of your private memories and thoughts in this manner, during my feeding. I choose to close it out, when I am able, but - when we are close, in moments after - your thoughts flow to me as effortlessly as my own.
[ like the first time he had caught a glimpse of that terrible bathroom lit by sickly fluorescents, with the grime and the chains. it was not a sight that he had wished to see in the slightest, yet it presented to him, unbidden. ]
no subject
if lestat could hear other vampires, did that mean they could hear him, too? would one of them - louis, maybe, or even that armand guy - be angry, if they knew adam was around lestat so often, so intimately? it's scary to think about, and once again adam is left feeling very, very small in comparison to this new world he's been thrust into.
yet, more than any of that, the thing that sticks in his mind is what lestat tells him next: that he's seen adam's memories. the flush fades as he realizes what that might mean, his face going pale and eyes widening as flashes of the worst times of his life cross his mind. it's not the breach of privacy that bothers him; he couldn't care less, not now that they've grown so close. no, instead -- ]
Did you see it?
[ a hint of fear taints his voice now. ]
That night. In the bathroom.
[ blood and mildew and smoke and death. ]
Did you see -- him?
[ does he mean the doctor? or the man that he thought had been dead, only to rise and free him as a reward for becoming a murderer? ]