Chapter Text
The direct punch in his stomach took almost all the air out of his lungs. He fell on his knees and tried to recover from the sharp, deep pain, but another kick to his ribs made him squirm and cry out of pain.
A loud, vicious laughter sounded in the air, and a cold, harsh voice mocked him from a distance.
“You may have killed all these wolves, but you are nothing but a little pathetic scumbag who thinks that is so much better than anyone around him, don’t you? Where were you sneaking around all afternoon, huh? Your duty is to serve the family, not wander around the village with your skinny violinist. An equal disgrace to humankind as you are. Stop shaming us and our noble name, for the Lord's sake. Who do you think you are?"
“Back off, Augustine.” Lestat gathered himself from the ground and straightened with inborn dignity. The hit was hard, and he didn’t expect the attack, so his body refused to cooperate. He had to curl up from the pain. “You have no right to say any of these words. Fuck you.”
“Oh, our gracious little Lord can speak.” Augustine, Lestat’s oldest brother, laughed loudly, but the sound of his laughter reminded Lestat of a pig’s squeal. The other brother, Laurent, stood aside, watching his nails and taking the dirt out. “I will say whatever I want, and you will not do a thing about it. Because what would you do? Kill me like your tiny wolves, huh?”
Two brothers burst into laughter and passed Lestat by, intentionally hitting him with their shoulders. Had Lestat not prepared this time for the impact, he would’ve fallen on the dirt again.
He didn’t bother with an answer. Talking with his brothers was futile; they were heartless, cruel, and jealous brutes. They would never dare ambush him in the open. Cowards, they were beyond measurement.
He really would fight them, and deep inside their dirty hearts, they knew it. He would take the heaviest sword, the largest morgenstern, and the sharpest axe and use them on their filthy bodies, shredding them to pieces, cutting every limb, and dissolving every part to a pulp.
And insults didn’t work on him anymore, but sneaky comments on Nicolas… That was different. For that alone, Lestat would indulge himself and break these useless necks.
It was only wishful thinking, though.
Lestat knew that he was more likely to get on his horse tomorrow morning and search the forest and fields for food for these ungrateful bastards connected with him through blood than to make his bloody desires come true.
The pain was just a dull memory when Lestat reached his chamber. He only had asked his loyal servant for some light supper, water to wash the dirt of the day, and a bottle of wine to forget the worries. The fire in the old fireplace warmed the air, thankfully, and made his tired body numb and heavy, lulling him into a dreamlike state. Lestat relaxed, lying in his bed, and his thoughts drifted unconsciously towards the young, delicate man whom his brothers tried to humiliate for the reason of being Lestat’s friend.
Lestat didn’t give the smallest fuck.
Today was the day when Nicolas kissed him.
Their first kiss.
He hoped it wasn't the last.
But by the way that Nicki was looking at him when they kissed goodbye, he didn't think so.
Whatever it could be, Nicolas was in it with Lestat.
His Nicki.
Nicolas, who was eager to hear about the wolves.
Nicolas, who told him everything about Paris.
Oh, they talked endlessly about everything.
And with all this talking, drinking, and being together, Lestat felt real happiness and relief for the first time in a while. He had a friend who didn’t turn him down. Someone who was listening to him. Someone who was interested in his opinions and respected his achievements.
Ah, yes, Nicolas and his hazel eyes caused a great commotion in Lestat’s life.
Every single day, Lestat discovered that he craved Nicki more and more. He got used to the timbre of his voice, to the beauty of his delicate face, and to his curious, covered with long lashes, eyes, that looked at Lestat with a strange expression. Every single day, Lestat looked into these beautiful eyes and found their passion, affection, and understanding.
Sometimes he thought he could see more than all of these. Something dark and worrying, but then Nicolas quickly used to smile brightly, and the feeling of unease disappeared.
Then, there was music.
Nicki played his violin only for Lestat. He allowed himself to dwell into the melody, swayed to the rhythm, worked his fingers on the strings with extreme passion, and at the end, he whispered that he wouldn’t even try to play hadn’t it been for Lestat.
And Lestat, the famous Wolfkiller, blushed when he heard these sweet words.
And they kissed this afternoon.
They kissed, and it was perfect.
Not that Lestat hadn't kissed before. But his loving escapades rarely involved the use of the lips. A quick peg on the cheek or the neck, and then the usual, quick act in the barn or behind the tree in the forest was all Lestat gave away from himself when he met this or that village girl.
Today, he discovered heaven in Nicki's mouth.
It turned out that Nicolas had a plan for today, and he relentlessly chased it until they went for a walk into the forest. They collected some forest fruits, and, as Nicki stole a bottle of peach wine from his mother’s storage, they started to search for a place to eat and drink. They found a small, hidden glade, covered by thick bushes and graced by a small, clear stream. They sat on the soft grass with their blouses under their heads, ate raspberries, drank the sweet wine, and chatted about sweet nothings until…
“I like you, Lestat.” Nicki confessed all of a sudden, rolling to the side and looking at Lestat with a soft smile. “Je vous aime vraiment, Monsieur.”
Lestat only smirked. “You are drunk, my friend."
“No, I'm not drunk.” Nicki raised his hand and slowly tugged the lock that fell on Lestat’s face behind his ear. “I really like you.” He leaned forward, and suddenly the weight of his look came to Lestat. He shivered under the touch. Nicolas caressed his ear gently, wiping his thumb around the earlobe, and the sensation almost made Lestat moan.
“Do you want me to stop?” Nicki asked, but Lestat knew that he wouldn’t listen to an eventual “yes,” therefore he had said nothing.
Nicki smiled, and the sweet caress continued. Delicate, although toughened by the strings, fingers wandered around Lestat’s chiseled jaw and cheekbones. Lestat’s eyes drifted to the back of his head, and he hummed quietly. When the thumb brushed his lips, Lestat opened his eyes.
“My Wolfkiller.” Nicki whispered it quietly. “I love you.”
He waited.
He didn’t make a single move.
His eyes were asking the same question, and Lestat knew how he should answer. There was no other way.
Slowly, he nodded, and Nicki’s mouth widened in a delighted smile.
“Are you not outraged, Monsieur?” He asked puckishly. “It’s the deepest sin known to society. That feeling that I have for you… It’s forbidden, cursed, and fatal.”
“I don’t care.” Lestat could not think of anything else but these plush, delicate lips that were now so close to his own. “I love… I want…”
He didn’t even finish when Nicolas was on his lips, kissing him slowly.
It didn’t feel half like this with the village girls.
It felt like heaven.
He could taste the raspberries in Nicki's breath and the sweet taste of the wine. It was like a taste of summer, fresh and exciting, overcoming his senses and making him weak and fragile.
Nicki didn’t hurry. He sucked gently his lower lip, brushing his mouth slowly on the flesh. His tongue followed the pattern, tracing the lips, slipping inside Lestat’s mouth, making him open them, and getting ready for more.
Lestat couldn't recall if he had breathed. The world around them stopped. Not even the sound of a fly disturbed their moment of closeness.
When Nicki withdrew suddenly and propped on his elbows, Lestat whined loudly.
"Why the hell did you stop?"
"You're incorrigible, Monsieur." His beautiful friend smiled mischievously. "I’ve just realized that I shouldn't bring you to the deprived side of human nature. What would the marquise say had she seen you cuddling with me on the grass?"
"She'd be delighted." Lestat grinned. "She's very fond of you. Now stop talking nonsense and kiss me again." He could see how Nicki's eyes widened, and a small blush appeared on his pale cheeks. "My God, you're so beautiful." He whispered and stroked Nicolas' soft skin. "Kiss me, I beg you."
This time, the kiss was not gentle. It was a furious fall on Lestat’s lips – violent, deep, and ferocious. His tongue pushed hard inside through the teeth, circling around the palate and fighting with Lestat’s tongue for more space. He sucked his lips breathlessly, each time with greater enthusiasm, drawing obscene moans from Lestat, who completely gave up and just lied helplessly, crushed by Nicolas' sleek body.
"Nicki!" He gasped, fighting for air, and then searched for his lips again, as if they were his salvation. "Nicki." He finally managed to give the kiss back, taste his lover, lick his tongue, and suck it as best as he could. He knew he was probably clumsy and inexperienced, but it looked like Nicki didn’t care. Lestat could see that he was smiling; the corners of his eyes wrinkled, and his gaze was delightful.
"Good." He whispered when Lestat freed his lips. "You're so good at it. Perfectly made for me."
"Oh, am I?" Lestat teased and pulled Nicki’s head by his brown locks closer, trying to steal another kiss. Nicki laughed, and this time he devoured Lestat’s mouth with bites, tugged each lip hard, nearly chewed them, and bit so vigorously that he drew a drop of blood and licked it like a holy communion. "You're insane." Lestat would have cried had he not been so aroused. His pants were too tight all of a sudden, and he rutted his hips helplessly, silently begging Nicki to help him. Nicki chuckled.
"Just kisses today, mon cher." He smiled when Lestat whined and rolled his eyes. "Your lips are mine."
"Fuck, you can’t do this to me." Lestat panted heavily. His lips burned, and he reached for the cape of Nicki’s neck. He caught him off guard and pulled for another kiss. Nicki fell between his legs and moaned from the impact. They kissed and kissed again, holding each other tighter with every move.
"Lestat." Nicki whispered, locking their eyes. His eyes were blown black, and his lips were swollen from Lestat’s brave attempts. "My Wolfkiller."
A loud crack in the wood in the fireplace woke Lestat up. He was heated, and his head was dizzy and heavy. His groins burned again, and he felt a deep, muffled pain inside his chest. It was not physical; he knew it. And there was only one cure for this pain.
His heart ached for his first love.
His young violinist.