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To Name and Soothe

Summary:

(This scene takes place during S2 Ep 3 "No Pain". I wanted to explore the beginnings of Louis and Armand's crazy Dom/Sub dynamic, before it gets very intense and weird. Louis in Ep 5 drove me insane with the "does he wanna lick my boots?" line, so I decided to write this!

Warnings for undiscussed Dom/Sub dynamics. Don't worry, everyone in this fic is very much into it though!)

"Sensing his distraction, Louis snatched the book from his hand.

'Good boy. Thank you.' Louis turned away from him, sauntering back over to his chair.

Armand swallowed thickly, stunned and struck dumb by the wild thing he had glimpsed in Louis' eyes. Louis sat with the book, not bothering to look back at Armand. He flipped the book open to a marked page, the glint of gold lettering catching in the light. Louis took a deep drag of his cigarette, his eyes trained to the pages of the manuscript."

Notes:

Yes, the title is definitely taken from the Deftones song "Entombed". I feel like that song is very fitting for Louis and Armand's entire relationship. You should give it a listen while you read!

Also, this is my first time writing for Armand, so bear with me please. I hope nothing is too OOC for him!

Work Text:

The coven was too busy with rehearsals to notice Armand's absence. He would slip out through the tunnels late at night, going quietly when all the rest were busied with the night's dealings. Louis had stopped coming to Claudia's showings, instead staying on his own in their little flat. 

This is where he found him, sitting in an arm chair by the little wood burning stove, reading the day's edition of the newspaper. He hadn't noticed Armand slipping through the door, didn't look up at him as he stood in the doorway. Armand took a moment to watch him, to look at him as he read. The grace with which he held himself, totally absorbed in his reading. The firelight dancing over his features, filling him with the light, shining in golden hues across his skin. 

Even his eyes seemed to drink up the light, green and gold and as fresh and beautiful as new spring leaves. Armand wanted to know what he was thinking, to pry into that fascinating head of his, but he resisted. He wanted to exist in this moment, standing there, staring as Louis sat unawares of his presence.

He was dressed to go out. Brown wool trousers, a complimentary emerald green linen shirt, perfect for the summer air drifting in through the opened window.  Brown leather shoes, laced tightly into perfect bows, every inch a learned gentleman. He'd combed his curls back into waves, the light of the fire catching there as well, bringing out the different hues of his hair hidden by the glistening product. 

“I can feel you lookin' at me.” Louis' voice nearly startled him. 

Louis looked up at him from under his lashes, a soft smile gracing his features. Armand returned the look, taking his time walking into the room. He pulled over a wooden dining chair, left forgotten in the press of the small living room. He sat across from him, matching his pose, crossing his right leg over the left. 

“I like looking at you.”

“Oh you do, do you? Like what you see?” Louis put the paper down, folding it neatly across his lap. 

“Yes, very much.” Armand said quietly. “It's impossible not to like you.” 

Louis looked away bashfully, rising to put the paper on a nearby end table. He took out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out to offer to Armand. He took it, their fingers brushing, bringing it to his lips. 

With a wink, Armand lit both of their cigarettes with a thought. Louis grinned, taking a deep breath of the smoke, letting it pour enticingly out of his mouth. He'd moved to stand next to Armand, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

The simple touch seemed to electrify Armand. The warmth of his hand jolted through him, the sensation settling low in his belly. Louis let his hand drift down, fingertips tucking briefly into the collar of his shirt, gliding lightly over the back of his neck. His hand passed over to his other shoulder as Louis walked over to the tall bookcase by the stove. 

He perused the collection of his books, crossing his arms as he took another drag of the cigarette. Armand's eyes lingered on his shoulders, the curve of his ass in those immaculate trousers. The shoes shining in the dim light. 

“Are you running out of reading material already? Do we need to take a trip to the bookstore?” Armand couldn't resist teasing him slightly. 

Louis laughed lightly, turning to look at him over his shoulder. His eyes flashed with humor. He shook his head, sighing as he turned back to the books. He stood on tiptoes slightly to reach the highest shelves, where he kept the larger tomes. The long, lean line of his body lengthened as he stretched, the muscles of his shoulders flexing underneath the light weave of the linen shirt. 

Armand rose to stand next to him, cigarette forgotten in the tray. He pressed in close to Louis, his chest pressing to his back. It was a simple thing for Armand to grab the book Louis had been after, bringing it down for him. Louis smiled in thanks, reaching for it, but Armand held it back, pressing it to his chest. 

“I'll give it to you for a kiss.” Armand teased. 

“Just a kiss? Is that really all you want?” Louis said, leaning back against the book case, crossing his arms. 

His eyes sparkled with a kind of mischief, a teasing that Armand couldn't read clearly. It thrilled him, to see his eyes melt with this heat, at once burning and growing hard with it. Armand found himself hesitating, leaning into him unconsciously.  

Sensing his distraction, Louis snatched the book from his hand. 

“Good boy. Thank you.” Louis turned away from him, sauntering back over to his chair. 

Armand swallowed thickly, stunned and struck dumb by the wild thing he had glimpsed in Louis' eyes. Louis sat with the book, not bothering to look back at Armand. He flipped the book open to a marked page, the glint of gold lettering catching in the light. Louis took a deep drag of his cigarette, his eyes trained to the pages of the manuscript. 

“I didn't get that kiss.” Armand said, slightly breathless. 

“Hmm, I don't remember asking you to get the book for me. If you want something from me, you gotta ask nicely.” Louis looked up from the book, bringing his hand up to take the cigarette from his mouth. “You gonna ask?” 

Louis exhaled, not looking away as he crushed the butt of the cigarette out in the ash tray on the table next to him. Armand found his mouth growing dry, being pulled in by the hard fire in Louis' eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he moved away from the book shelf and towards Louis. Found himself entrapped in his gaze, standing in front of him, looking down at his beautiful face. Louis had not closed the book, shaking the ankle crossed over his leg almost impatiently. As if, at any moment, he'd lose interest in Armand and go back to reading his book. 

Armand knelt in front of him on one knee, as if he were the servant sent to attend to each of Louis' needs. He reached out for the knee resting on Louis' right leg, feeling the finely woven fabric of his trousers. The hem of Louis' trousers had ridden up with his movement, his plain stockings suddenly captivating, encasing the fine bones of Louis' ankle. 

Armand found himself leaning in, wanting to press a kiss to Louis' knee, to pull the leg of his pants up to better see the shining shoes, the bones that made up his ankle, tracing the stockings to the garter. 

Abruptly, Louis pushed him away with his foot, that shining oxford pressing against his chest almost harshly. 

“Ah ah ah. You didn't ask.” Louis looked down at him, the teasing fire building in his eyes. 

He seemed like some kind of godling to Armand, a gleaming Ganymede sat upon his throne. Lestat had chosen well when he had picked Louis as his companion. No one could have spoken to him like this and lived, no one else could have denied him anything and survived to tell the tale. 

Louis, only Louis could speak to him like this, could make such demands of his desire, his time. No one in a very long time had made him feel like this – at once desperate to please and raging against the desire to debase himself for it. It twisted inside of him like mating snakes, an ouroboros of lust, of the fear of losing himself like this. Losing himself to the fire of Louis' desires, wholly yearning and unprepared to throw himself upon the pyre of it. To let go of that tightly bound thing inside of himself, to bare that part of him so rarely seen by anyone. 

Not anymore. 

That control he held over himself slipped, the knot giving just enough slack to let the need to please, the desire to serve, give way. 

“Please Louis... may I kiss you?” Armand whispered. 

Louis was looking down at him. The firelight cast shadows across his face, gathering in the hollows of his eyes, the green of his irises staring out at him from the skull of his face the shadows had made. Emerald, the green of copper sulfate thrown into flames, at once hard and sparking with the banked heat of his own desires. 

Louis didn't lower his foot from Armand's chest. He smiled sweetly, almost lovingly, and with a soft but purposeful shove, he acquiesced.

“You may. Go ahead.” Louis said. 

Armand looked down at his foot pressing at his chest, at the long line of his leg, the hint of ankle peeking from the trouser. With great gentleness, he brought his hands up to cup his ankle, cradling the heel of his foot in his right hand while the left slowly passed over the pant leg, dragging the fabric up his leg. 

Looking up at Louis, he watched his face as he pressed a kiss to the toe of his shoe. Watched as he quirked a brow, leaning to settle his chin on his left hand. He watched Louis watch him as he pressed another kiss to the side of the shoe, where the big toe would meet the rest of his foot. Armand felt the fine hair of Louis' leg as his hand passed over the stocking, meeting the elastic strap of the garter. 

Another kiss to where the laces were tied, slowly lowering Louis' leg as he trailed the kisses higher and higher. Now to the front of his ankle, feeling the slight thrum of Louis' pulse at the soft flesh of the inner ankle with his fingers. 

Armand let the pant leg fall as he kissed his shin, pressing an opened mouth kiss to the hard kneecap. He cradled the back of Louis' calf in his hands, pushing gently against the muscle there, feeling it twitch as he crawled higher. Another kiss to the top of his knee. Armand found he had closed his eyes, completely consumed with his task. The hard muscle of the top of Louis' knee gave way to softer flesh. 

The soft flesh of his inner thigh, kissing him there just above the knee, his right hand gliding up to press at the muscle of his outer thigh, the other grasping Louis' left knee. Armand felt lightheaded with the giving way of his control. Dizzy, swimming in the scent of Louis' arousal, so close to the center of him, kneeling at his feet as he was. 

Armand took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose, holding Louis' musk in his lungs much like he would cigarette smoke. His mouth filled with moisture. He pulled away slightly, looking up at Louis. For approval or contempt at his loosened desire, he didn't know. Found only a soft smile gracing his features, the fire of his eyes once again tormentingly sweet.

Louis sat back in the chair slightly, bringing his right hand down to tangle in Armand's hair. He twirled a curl around his pointer finger, all the while looking down at Armand. He sat quietly, saying nothing. The silence stretched, only broken by the occasional pop of sap from the burning firewood. Far below them in the street, a few cars rumbled past. A drunken couple argued in the street. 

Armand found himself riveted by Louis. He couldn't move, couldn't look away from him, teetering on the edge. He didn't know what he would find if he fell over it – whether he would succumb to the desire building in his belly, or if he would turn away to hide from Louis. From himself. To once again tighten the knot that held this part of himself in check. 

“I didn't say you could stop kissing me. Go on, finish what you started.” Louis said, smiling. 

His voice was soft, rough, something caught in his words. Armand found himself standing on solid ground again. He knew what Louis needed, what he could do to please him. Felt the hard length of him pulsing against his hand where it rested on his thigh. 

Something soared inside Armand, flew through him on gossamer wings, filled him to the brim with meaning, with purpose. Louis' fingers dug into his scalp. He didn't press Armand any further, simply grasped his hair tightly enough to nudge him forward. 

Armand pressed his cheek to Louis' thigh, rubbing against the length of his desire, finding delight in the small gasp Louis let loose. Armand reached for the closure of his trousers, loosening the belt buckle and the button, carefully pulling the zipper down. His knuckles brushed against Louis' cock, it couldn't be helped. What could be helped was the sigh of lust he released, relishing in pulling Louis' trousers down and away from his body. 

A wet patch had grown inside the white cotton fabric of Louis' boxers. Armand stopped pulling his trousers down as they reached his knees. He felt the cold metal of the zipper press against the skin of his neck as he leaned forward, kissing the head of Louis' cock through the fabric. Louis jolted slightly underneath him, his hips rising as if of their own accord. 

Armand caressed the soft skin of his belly, scratching at the curling hair dusting his abdomen, reaching for the waistband of his boxers next. He pulled these away just as gently, reverently revealing the proof of Louis' desire. 

Louis groaned as he took him fully into his hand. Armand licked over the length of him, gathering the precome into his mouth, swallowing it as if it were a gift. He set himself to his work, bracing himself on his knees as he pleasured Louis. 

He groaned as Louis bucked slightly into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head of his cock. He pulsed in his hand, the head of Louis' cock nearly leaping as he sucked him into his mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, everything he had wished for and more. Rich, heady, nearly bitter with the natural musk. Armand found himself growing lose with his ministrations, losing himself in Louis' pleasure as if it were his own. 

He couldn't take the length of him fully, found he didn't need to as Louis gasped underneath him, wonderfully responsive to the pleasure Armand was giving him. Armand pulled away to swirl his tongue around the head of his cock again, looking up at Louis. His head tossed back, sweat beading on his brow, his left hand grasping the arm of the chair, nails digging into the fabric. He was a vision, losing himself totally to the pleasure he was feeling. 

Armand doubled his efforts, pumping his length in time with the bobbing motions of his head. Tightening his hand as he swept up the length, repeating the gestures that Louis found the most pleasurable. 

Louis started to shake now, the muscles of his thighs trembling with his building release, the skin of Armand's forearms growing damp with his sweat where they had come to rest on Louis' legs. 

Louis let loose a long, sweet groan, the hand tangled in Armand's hair tensed briefly, tugging gently. Armand pulled away, looking up at him. Louis sat panting, a dazed look taking over his face. He licked his lips, leaning forward, pulling Armand into a deep kiss. His tongue swept through his mouth, over his teeth, pulling out to swipe at Armand's lower lip. 

Armand shivered, tensing as the pleasure of Louis' kisses washed over him. Louis' hands left his hair, coming to rest on his neck. Louis stood, pulling Armand with him, reaching up slightly to press kisses to his cheeks, his nose, kissing him on the mouth again. It seemed a fever had overtaken him, pressing at Armand's shoulders as they stumbled across the room over to his little bed. 

They lay tangled in a heap on the bed, Louis kicking his pants off impatiently. Armand's hands had flown to the buttons of his shirt, careful not to rip any away as he unfastened them. Louis maneuvered them both until they were laying lengthwise on the bed, Armand underneath him. Shirt unbuttoned now, Louis tossed this away as well, shucking his shoes in the processes. He was left wearing the stockings and the garters. 

Louis busied himself with helping Armand out of his own clothes, his hands working at the zipper of his trousers as Armand struggled to untie his scarf. He became distracted when Louis reached into his pants, grasping the hard cock he found there. 

Armand gasped, unable to stop himself from thrusting into the tight heat of Louis' hand. His hands still tangled in the scarf, Louis leaned up to kiss him, his left arm wrapping underneath his shoulders to bring him close. Pressing his open mouth to his cheek, he slung his right leg over Armand's left, opening him up to him. 

“That's it, baby. You like that?” Louis said, hot breath ghosting across Armand's cheek. 

Armand couldn't find his voice, nodding almost frantically as Louis pumped his length in his tight fist. He found his bearings, finally getting the scarf untangled, whipping it away from himself. He turned to look at Louis, at the heat of his gaze. The lust that had overcome his features, turning him into something entirely inhuman. His pupils blown wide, the sweat on his brow glittering like rubies embedded into his skin. 

He gasped as Louis' hand twisted over the head of his cock, twisting in Louis' arms to kiss him again and again. Armand reached for Louis' neglected cock, completing the circle of mutual pleasure, wanting to bring him to the brink as quickly as Louis was for him. 

His senses, his thoughts, his eyes were consumed with him. Only with Louis, with his hooded eyes, his mouth open as he gasped his pleasure into his mouth. Louis shook with his pleasure, bucking into his hand, the arm under his head pulling him closer. 

“Look at me Louis. I want to see it when you come, look at me.” Armand gasped. 

The twitching of Louis' cock had grown stronger, his hips bucking desperately as his orgasm approached. Suddenly, almost as if he were taken by surprise, Louis came. His head thrown back, his eyes twisting shut as he arched in Armand's arms. A deep moan loosed into the air, his heart pounding in Armand's ears. 

His spend shot across Armand's hand, wetting his belly. The sight of it, of Louis letting go so completely, sent him over the edge. He pressed his forehead to Louis' neck, mouthing at the junction of his shoulder, kissing him as he came into Louis' hand. 

They lie together, panting. Tangled in the sheets and what clothing Armand had not been able to remove before their coupling. The sound of their thundering hearts, beating out of sync, crashing into each other seemed to be the only thing Armand could hear for a moment. 

Louis pulled away first. He blinked blearily at Armand, a gentle smile overtaking his features. He seemed to glow for a moment. He pulled Armand in for a sweet kiss, almost chastely. Another kiss, and then he rose from the bed, grunting slightly as he climbed over Armand. 

He gathered their clothes, folding them and setting them at the foot of Claudia's unused bed. Armand watched him as he did this. His brown skin shining with the cooling sweat, his hair slightly mussed by the pillows. He turned to look at Armand, raising a teasing brow. 

“Come on. Get cleaned up, then we can hold each other.” Louis said. 

Armand couldn't fight the smile, felt it bubbling it up from within his breast. They set each other to rights, washing off the sweat at the kitchen sink. Armand watched as Louis combed his hair back into place in a mirror hanging in the living room. Clad only in his trousers and stockings, his very presence seemed to consume Armand. 

This simple act, of watching Louis attend to his hair after their lovemaking, filled a lonely place inside Armand. A place he himself was not entirely aware of. Louis caught him smiling. Returned the look with a small one of his own. 

He joined Armand back on the bed. 

“You don't have to leave if you don't want to. Not yet.” Louis said.

“Do you want me to stay?” Armand asked. 

Louis leaned forward, kissing him. His hands tangled in his hair, pulling him on top of him. The kisses stayed gentle, their lust sated for now. Armand pulled away, looking down at him, running his thumb over his brow. Louis' eyes seemed to search his face for a moment, but the look faded as Armand kissed the tip of his nose. 

“I'll have to leave in a little bit. The coven will start to wonder where I went.” 

Louis nodded in agreement, bringing his left hand up to cradle his cheek. He ran his fingers over his jaw, the sensitive tips of his fingers tickled slightly by the always-present stubble gracing Armand's jaw. He kissed his chin now, playfully nipping the skin here. 

Armand chuckled, pulling away. He found himself content just to stare at him again. To watch the thoughts play over his face instead of peering inside himself. To let the mystery of Louis de Pointe du Lac linger for a moment. 

With one last kiss, Armand left the bed. He re-dressed for the night, trying to wipe the wrinkles out of his shirt. 

“I'll see you tomorrow, right?” Louis said. 

Armand turned to look at him as he lounged on the bed, his hands crossed over his abdomen. Another look on his face that Armand couldn't read. He smiled reassuringly, finishing buttoning his shirt. He picked his discarded scarf up of the floor at the foot of the bed. He pressed a kiss to Louis' crooked knee, another to his bare stomach, his chest. Finally, his mouth. 

He caressed Louis' cheek, giving him one last loving look. 

“Of course.” 

Louis' smile lit up the room. 

“Good.” 

Louis watched Armand leave, listening for the front door shutting behind him. He sighed, crossing his hands underneath his head. He let the silence of the room wash over him. The fire had died down in the stove, the breeze coming in from the window chilling him slightly. 

He turned to look at the arm chair he had been sitting in, at the ever-present figure haunting him. At the wild blond hair, the raised brow of disillusionment, the full mouth as he smoked his cigarette. Listened as he sighed, slouching in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. 

Louis found he couldn't stand the sight of him, not so soon after his night with Armand. He turned on his side, away from the armchair. Tried his best not to think of him, as he always did. Didn't want to put a name to the apparition in the room. To the strange mixture of regret and loneliness washing over him, despite the afterglow still lingering in every fiber of his being. 

Tried not to think of his eyes. Of his kisses. Of his hands, his mouth as they'd make love. The sweet words he'd always say. 

Of how much he had loved him. 

Louis fell asleep in the bed, not bothering to go into his coffin that morning.