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Summary
“You think you’re real cute, don’t you?” Louis said when he finally came up for air. He had Lestat pinned to one corner of the couch, one hand around his throat, the other wound vise-tight in his hair.
Lestat hummed, touched Louis’ bare ass with both hands. He’d been dreaming of this very moment since the last time they’d seen each other in person months ago. “I prefer to think of myself as ravishing,” he purred, laughing when Louis flashed a wicked grin.
Or: The one where Louis visits Lestat in Montreal.