Post by Louis II on Feb 11, 2007 8:00:16 GMT 1
Laptops
Louis was frustrated. He slammed the lid of Lestat’s laptop closed and then opened it again. He was staring at an almost blank screen. There was an icon with a picture of Mojo, and then the words “Lestat, the Saint” were next to it.
“Damn thing!” Louis exclaimed, before knocking the side of it with his palm. There was a thin line of blood-sweat on his brow, and his hair was coming loose. Unknowingly, he began to poke away madly at the keys.
From behind him, came familiar laughter that escalated into sheer cackles. Louis turned around to glare. “Do you mind?”
Lestat wiped at the blood tears trailing down his cheeks. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Louis! You’ll be the death of me! Oh! I never thought that I would see the day!”
Louis let the growl in his throat continue for little more than a minute before he turned back and pointed at the laptop screen. “This…this THING! This thing is the devil.”
Lestat slid over the back of the couch, his legs encircling Louis’. “I thought I was the devil.”
“So did I,” Louis continued, poking at a few more keys. Nothing happened. “But that was before I began my struggle with this thing. I think it’s more stubborn than you.”
Still chuckling quietly to himself, Lestat’s arms circled around Louis’ waist and rested on the laptop keys. “You just have to know how to coax it properly. You see this? This is where your finger goes. You guide that little arrow to where you want it to go and then just click.”
Louis’ eyes followed Lestat’s fingers then the arrow as it moved to the tiny picture of Mojo. As the computer desktop began to load, Louis blinked several times, eyes fixated on the screen. “That’s it?” He was disgusted.
“That’s it,” Lestat replied and put his mouth to Louis’ neck in a little kiss.
Louis let his head fall back comfortably and instinctively to Lestat’s shoulder. “I’ve been working on this bastard device for hours.”
Lestat’s fingers went to pinch the buttons of Louis’ shirt and he guided it open. “When it finishes loading, I’ll show you how to use it. What do you need it for, anyway?”
Louis sighed, admitting an early defeat. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to buy tickets to the local opera. They’re playing Don Giovanni, and you’ve been pushing us to see it ever since we did in—.”
“1789,” Lestat completed, another kiss going to Louis’ neck. His fingers tickled Louis’ bare chest, regardless of the fact that Louis was ignoring his advances completely. “I remember. I remember plenty of things you’d be surprised about.”
“I’m not surprised,” Louis admitted, and sat up straight again when the laptop began to play music. “What was that?”
“Damned if I know,” Lestat said with a shrug. “It just does that when it starts up. Oh, and don’t mind my background picture. It was just…too pretty not to capture.”
Louis’ eyes went wide when he saw. “Lestat!”
“What?”
“When did you take this?”
Lestat smiled devilishly and twirled his fingers through Louis’ hair. “You were in the shower.”
“I can see that!” Louis said and shifted uncomfortably. “Take it off. You don’t know who will see it.”
“Only us, mon cher,” Lestat assured him, with another kiss to that pale and strangely supple neck.
Louis swatted him away. “Lestat!”
“Devil. Go on, Louis. Say it. Call me a devil.”
“Lestat, you have dozens of people tell you that every night. Get one of them to do it. I haven’t the patience.”
Lestat, however, smirked a rather sinister smile, twisting his lips as he tickled the skin on Louis’ neck with his teeth. “I know, Louis, but no one says it quite like you. Go on. I’m a devil. Say it.”
“This is pornographic.”
“Say it, Louis.”
Louis grimaced and peeled Lestat’s fingers away from his chest and hair. “Just teach me how to use the device from hell, s’il vous plait.”
Lestat laughed and wrapped his arms back around Louis’ waist. “Alright, fine, but if you take more than thirty minutes to learn how to do this, you’re calling me a devil.”
“Very well.”
Reaching forward, Lestat clicked and typed away as Louis watched with wide and nearly anxious eyes. Typing in a few letters and a password, Lestat brought up an icon reading AOL, and Louis watched the colors of the computer dance across the contours of his Maker’s hands. Something popped up and then a voice. “You’ve got mail.”
Louis started and blinked, glancing back to Lestat with near fear. “What are they talking about? The mailman doesn’t come until the morning.”
If Lestat had laughed loudly before, now, it was near deafening. In fact, he laughed so hard that he was forced to retract his hands and lean back into the sofa. Louis looked on incredulously and held tightly to the laptop so that the vibrations from Lestat’s ruckus joviality did not knock the thing clean to the floor. “What? What is so funny?”
Lestat spent a few minutes pulling himself together, his face streaked with blood tears, and finally through a condescending smile, he replied, “It’s not literal mail. It’s e-mail. E-mail can be sent any time of day and it only takes seconds to get from one place to the next.”
Louis sat quietly for a moment, thinking very hard, and Lestat noticed that the beautiful one’s eyebrows were lowering and furrowing in concentration. He was gentle and sensitive, sure, but he was also a thinker. Finally, Louis lifted the laptop and lay it down on the floor by the couch. Turning to Lestat, he pressed his palms to the brat’s chest and guided him to lay down. Climbing on top of him, straddling the beautiful vampire, Louis’ hands reached up under Lestat’s pliant shirt so that he could scratch his nails along it.
Lestat seemed a little shocked by the forwardness, but most certainly did nothing to discourage it. And when Louis lay his chest against his own, Lestat did not hesitate to cover his mouth with a greedy kiss. Louis pulled away and kissed over to Lestat’s ear where he began to nibble it. Lestat gasped. “Louis, stop it. You’re not Mike Tyson.”
But Louis flicked his tongue into the cave of Lestat’s ear and instead whispered, “Forget the computer. I’ll never learn it anyway. You’re a devil, Lestat. You’re a perfect devil.”
Louis was frustrated. He slammed the lid of Lestat’s laptop closed and then opened it again. He was staring at an almost blank screen. There was an icon with a picture of Mojo, and then the words “Lestat, the Saint” were next to it.
“Damn thing!” Louis exclaimed, before knocking the side of it with his palm. There was a thin line of blood-sweat on his brow, and his hair was coming loose. Unknowingly, he began to poke away madly at the keys.
From behind him, came familiar laughter that escalated into sheer cackles. Louis turned around to glare. “Do you mind?”
Lestat wiped at the blood tears trailing down his cheeks. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Louis! You’ll be the death of me! Oh! I never thought that I would see the day!”
Louis let the growl in his throat continue for little more than a minute before he turned back and pointed at the laptop screen. “This…this THING! This thing is the devil.”
Lestat slid over the back of the couch, his legs encircling Louis’. “I thought I was the devil.”
“So did I,” Louis continued, poking at a few more keys. Nothing happened. “But that was before I began my struggle with this thing. I think it’s more stubborn than you.”
Still chuckling quietly to himself, Lestat’s arms circled around Louis’ waist and rested on the laptop keys. “You just have to know how to coax it properly. You see this? This is where your finger goes. You guide that little arrow to where you want it to go and then just click.”
Louis’ eyes followed Lestat’s fingers then the arrow as it moved to the tiny picture of Mojo. As the computer desktop began to load, Louis blinked several times, eyes fixated on the screen. “That’s it?” He was disgusted.
“That’s it,” Lestat replied and put his mouth to Louis’ neck in a little kiss.
Louis let his head fall back comfortably and instinctively to Lestat’s shoulder. “I’ve been working on this bastard device for hours.”
Lestat’s fingers went to pinch the buttons of Louis’ shirt and he guided it open. “When it finishes loading, I’ll show you how to use it. What do you need it for, anyway?”
Louis sighed, admitting an early defeat. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to buy tickets to the local opera. They’re playing Don Giovanni, and you’ve been pushing us to see it ever since we did in—.”
“1789,” Lestat completed, another kiss going to Louis’ neck. His fingers tickled Louis’ bare chest, regardless of the fact that Louis was ignoring his advances completely. “I remember. I remember plenty of things you’d be surprised about.”
“I’m not surprised,” Louis admitted, and sat up straight again when the laptop began to play music. “What was that?”
“Damned if I know,” Lestat said with a shrug. “It just does that when it starts up. Oh, and don’t mind my background picture. It was just…too pretty not to capture.”
Louis’ eyes went wide when he saw. “Lestat!”
“What?”
“When did you take this?”
Lestat smiled devilishly and twirled his fingers through Louis’ hair. “You were in the shower.”
“I can see that!” Louis said and shifted uncomfortably. “Take it off. You don’t know who will see it.”
“Only us, mon cher,” Lestat assured him, with another kiss to that pale and strangely supple neck.
Louis swatted him away. “Lestat!”
“Devil. Go on, Louis. Say it. Call me a devil.”
“Lestat, you have dozens of people tell you that every night. Get one of them to do it. I haven’t the patience.”
Lestat, however, smirked a rather sinister smile, twisting his lips as he tickled the skin on Louis’ neck with his teeth. “I know, Louis, but no one says it quite like you. Go on. I’m a devil. Say it.”
“This is pornographic.”
“Say it, Louis.”
Louis grimaced and peeled Lestat’s fingers away from his chest and hair. “Just teach me how to use the device from hell, s’il vous plait.”
Lestat laughed and wrapped his arms back around Louis’ waist. “Alright, fine, but if you take more than thirty minutes to learn how to do this, you’re calling me a devil.”
“Very well.”
Reaching forward, Lestat clicked and typed away as Louis watched with wide and nearly anxious eyes. Typing in a few letters and a password, Lestat brought up an icon reading AOL, and Louis watched the colors of the computer dance across the contours of his Maker’s hands. Something popped up and then a voice. “You’ve got mail.”
Louis started and blinked, glancing back to Lestat with near fear. “What are they talking about? The mailman doesn’t come until the morning.”
If Lestat had laughed loudly before, now, it was near deafening. In fact, he laughed so hard that he was forced to retract his hands and lean back into the sofa. Louis looked on incredulously and held tightly to the laptop so that the vibrations from Lestat’s ruckus joviality did not knock the thing clean to the floor. “What? What is so funny?”
Lestat spent a few minutes pulling himself together, his face streaked with blood tears, and finally through a condescending smile, he replied, “It’s not literal mail. It’s e-mail. E-mail can be sent any time of day and it only takes seconds to get from one place to the next.”
Louis sat quietly for a moment, thinking very hard, and Lestat noticed that the beautiful one’s eyebrows were lowering and furrowing in concentration. He was gentle and sensitive, sure, but he was also a thinker. Finally, Louis lifted the laptop and lay it down on the floor by the couch. Turning to Lestat, he pressed his palms to the brat’s chest and guided him to lay down. Climbing on top of him, straddling the beautiful vampire, Louis’ hands reached up under Lestat’s pliant shirt so that he could scratch his nails along it.
Lestat seemed a little shocked by the forwardness, but most certainly did nothing to discourage it. And when Louis lay his chest against his own, Lestat did not hesitate to cover his mouth with a greedy kiss. Louis pulled away and kissed over to Lestat’s ear where he began to nibble it. Lestat gasped. “Louis, stop it. You’re not Mike Tyson.”
But Louis flicked his tongue into the cave of Lestat’s ear and instead whispered, “Forget the computer. I’ll never learn it anyway. You’re a devil, Lestat. You’re a perfect devil.”