Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Emerald eyes squeeze shut in irritation as he tries not to explode, a stress headache already threatening to form.

He can’t have this fight again. But when Louis spots the overflowing trash as soon as he gets home from a particularly taxing day at work, he nearly considers an argument worth it.

He kicks off his sleek, black shoes, lining them neatly by the door after discarding his keys into a trinket dish on the narrow entry table.

Taking in his apartment from the front door, he notices the turquoise couch’s accent pillows are thrown about, the sink is still piled high with dirty dishes and the counter is littered with junk mail along with yesterday’s dry dishes that have yet to be put away.

He sighs, padding down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his work uniform- a black button down tucked into black trousers. Comfy lounge wear is calling his name.

His spouse is nowhere to be found, though he didn’t search too hard if he’s being honest. He wasn’t sure what he would say to the man or if he felt like yelling at him or ignoring him more. He was great at doing both.

Re-emerging from the bedroom in thin gray sweats, a loose, faded Saints t-shirt and his favorite black slippers, he curiously peaks his head around the corner to the guest room and bathroom doors which are both open and empty.

“Of course”, he mutters to himself as he heads for the kitchen. Cabinets slam out of frustration as he stores the clean dishes back in their homes before getting started on the dirty ones. He’s tying off the trash bag as the front door opens and Armand bounds over to him, iced matcha encased by slim, tan fingers.

Amber eyes take in the task Louis is finishing up. “I was going to do that.”

Louis gives him a pointed look, shaking out the new trash bag a little too loudly before he tucks it into the can.

“Well, you didn’t.”

“You know I have clients. I took a break to grab a drink, and I had planned to straighten up after. Have a little faith in me, darling.”

Sarcasm rolls off his tongue so naturally these days. “Thanks for bringing me a drink.” Louis turns, making his way outside with the full trash bag, closing the front door harder than necessary as he goes.

He regrets not grabbing his keys when he left so he could at least blast some music in the car to calm down.

As he opens the front door, he hears Armand tinkering in the kitchen, no doubt making a new mess Louis will inevitably have to clean up. He straightens the cushions before joining Armand, only to clear the island of abandoned mail and items from around the house that didn’t get put up.

Louis doesn’t say a word or look at Armand as he straightens up the rest of the kitchen, finishing up with a yawn.

“Would you like fajitas tonight? I saw a recipe earlier and saved it, they’re chickpea and kale.”

“Okay.” There’s no point in arguing.

Armand takes count of the ingredients needed for the incredibly un-authentic entree he plans to concoct, scattering everything along the black marble counter.

Louis settles onto the sofa, kicking his feet up as he flips on the tv, finally able to relax.

“How was your day?”

“You know I can’t hear you over the kitchen fan.”

Armand takes the hint for once and leaves Louis to put on an episode of No Reservations.

The show quickly becomes background noise as Louis scrolls through his phone, hearting a few posts he missed earlier in the day. He scrolls too far, into the recommended posts, his thumb hovering over a selfie of a breathtaking man.

The man sports a dark navy suit, long golden locks obstructing one side of his face as he’s captured laughing for the candid shot, hypnotizing blue eyes twinkling in the low lighting. The photo is tagged in Los Angeles.

It’s a shame he isn’t closer. Louis may be a married man but he still has eyes. It’s not like anything interesting has happened in their bedroom in years.

Louis immediately clicks the profile, but after a few seconds of scrolling, realizes the man was simply tagged in the photo. Upon further investigation, this mystery man’s actual profile is private, sharing nothing but a small icon of his smiling side profile, along with a bio that reads Paris ✈️ LA. The username @lesgo makes Louis chuckle, if only for how cheesy it is.

God, that jawline.

His finger lingers over the follow button. His own profile is pretty bare but does feature a few selfies he deemed worthy enough to post, some city appreciation shots and a few book reviews.

Armand’s head pops out of the kitchen, startling Louis. His thumb taps follow right before he locks the screen.

“Would you like any cashew cream or would you prefer yours plain?”

“Uh sure.”

“Sure to cashew cream or sure to plain?”

Louis grits his teeth. “The cream, I guess.”

Armand nods and disappears back into the kitchen. Louis hears the blender whirl, crunching up what he assumes is the aforementioned nuts.

Louis is not vegan, but it was Armand’s new thing. A few months ago Louis had come home to a slew of new groceries from Whole Foods, all of the vegetable and grain variety. It has been weeks and Armand still hasn’t given up the new diet, forcing it upon Louis as well.

If Louis stops by McDonald’s on his way home from work a few times a week, that’s his business.

He picks at the “fajitas”, not enjoying the texture or the flavors Armand chose. Armand is a good cook, he’s the reason Louis has a softness to his belly after a decade of being together, but as of late, the meals leave much to be desired.

He stumbles through small talk, still jaded over the previous state of their home after Armand swore he’d have it looking pristine before Louis got home from work.

Louis is a manager at a local high end bar, often on his feet for twelve hour shifts, serving a mix of wealthy locals and tourists that venture off for something fancier than the bars on Bourbon Street. He is the go-to person when something goes wrong as well as the head mixologist.

English Literature was his major in San Francisco, but his education was put on hold after his brother committed suicide and he had to return home to be the punching bag for his grieving family.

When they iced him out, he was desperate for income, so he scraped together enough to put himself through bartending school and got hired at the first place who said yes. He found it was easy to make drinks and surprised himself with how he had a knack for it.

Armand was a regular who chatted him up every evening, tipping handsomely. He wasn’t really Louis’ type, but his smooth accent wore him down until one day he asked the man on a proper date.

A decade later, he’s choking down dry chickpea patties masquerading as Mexican food made by the same man who once charmed him enough to say I do.

Louis manages to clear his plate despite the meal being inedible, and quickly moves to do the new dishes.

By the time he finishes cleaning the kitchen for the second time that evening, Armand is in the shower. Louis makes his way back to the couch and checks his phone once again, his chest buzzing as notifications pop up, alerting him that @lesgo accepted his request and reciprocated the follow.

Chapter Text

He tries to resist, he really does, but his fingers are possessed, typing out a greeting to this handsome stranger all on their own.

After the follow request was approved, Louis barricaded himself in the guest bedroom to snoop through all of the man’s posts. He is hot. His profile is full of professional headshots scattered among travel posts and the insides of historic concert halls. This guy really gets around. Louis itches to get to know him.

Often Louis finds himself in their second bedroom, claiming he can’t sleep soundly due to Armand’s snoring. While the sound is annoying, the truth is that he wants alone time at night to scroll, watch videos and stretch out without his husband interrupting him or wanting to touch him. The last time he tried to sleep in their bedroom, he woke up to Armand’s hardness pressing against his lower back, slender fingers caressing his hip underneath his t-shirt. Louis pretended to have a stomach ache, resulting in Armand releasing him and turning over. 

His screen illuminates his smile, back leaning against the wooden headboard as he types.

Hey, sorry for the random follow but you popped up on my feed and seem cool. How’s your night going? I’m Louis btw.

It’s around 2 AM in New Orleans so if this guy does actually live in LA, it’s currently midnight so Louis is not expecting a response, especially a quick one.

His phone vibrates a few moments later, to his surprise, flooding with several new messages and likes left on several of his photos, all from @lesgo.

Bonjour Louis, it’s nice to meet you! My night is going well!! I arrived home moments ago to find a cute man has wished to be friends with me. 🤗
My name is Lestat xx
How is your evening, Louis? It must be late for you, non? Cannot sleep?

Louis blinks. Okay, this guy is definitely flirting, right? He quickly responds.

I’m a bit of a night owl. I’m usually up most of the night anyway. It’s late for you too though if you are in California.

The receipt says read as soon as Louis sends the message. This guy must have the chat open, eagerly awaiting Louis’ response. It deepens Louis’ smile as he waits in anticipation.

I too stay up past my bedtime 😉
I got in a few hours ago from NY
too wired to sleep and now I have company 😉😉😉

Louis finds himself grinning at the winking emojis, a clear interest stirring in his sweatpants, quickly stifled when his silver wedding band catches his eye. He has to reel this in.

I’m just looking for a friend to chat with
Maybe that’s something you’d be interested in too?

Lestat goes a few minutes without typing, Louis’ stomach flipping at the thought of blowing this so soon. Whatever this is. He starts to type a new message just as Lestat’s pops up.

Of course! Tell me about yourself, Louis
I wish to know you

Louis hesitates for a second. What is he doing, chatting with a total stranger who he finds overwhelmingly attractive? His mind drifts to how the evening went and how Armand didn’t even say goodnight before shutting himself in the bedroom down the hall.

There’s no doubt that things have been stagnant between them, even hostile at times. They can barely manage going a day without fighting and their goals are no longer aligning, much like their schedules.

Louis’ shifts start around 3 PM and can go as late as 3 AM on the weekends, while Armand’s day begins in the morning at 7 as a translator and buyer for art collectors and museums around the world. He’s lucky enough to work from home most days, but does leave the country from time to time to visit clients in person. Louis is particularly happy to come home to an empty house on those occasions.

Well, I’m 33, I think you saw on my profile I live in New Orleans and I make a killer drinks at work 😏
I collect rare copies of my favorite novels and I’m kind of a superhero nerd lol
How bout you?

Ah that sounds superb (pun intended)
I would love to taste a drink crafted by your gorgeous hands
I am 34
I reside in Los Angeles but my home is Paris
I moved to the states recently for work

Louis bites his bottom lip as he scrolls through the messages. He‘a giddy with excited nervousness even from their brief exchange. He tries to push aside the doubt that threatens to bubble up. What if Lestat is a catfish? There’s no way a guy who looks like this would be so available and willing to spend time on Louis.

What do you do? Let me guess… model?

Oh you charm me!!
I am a composer for various theatre production companies. I travel around, occasionally playing with orchestras as well.
I play piano, it is my favorite thing to do

Okay, so he’s good with his fingers….

Wow that’s so cool
Would love to catch a show if you’re ever in NOLA

Ah! I believe I will be in a few weeks if all goes well
I will ask Christine and let you know
I must stop by your bar
If that is okay of course
Louis do you ever travel?

Louis frowns. Christine? Is this guy married? He is definitely flirting and seems at least not straight. But what if he has a wife? Well, Louis has a husband but that isn’t stopping any jealousy from the mention of her name.

Who is Christine?
I don’t travel as much as I’d like to. I was going to school in San Francisco but had to come home
Family stuff…
Anyway I haven’t really had a chance to get away in over a decade 🫣

The realization that he’s been stuck in his home town for that long hits him like a punch to the gut. He used to love visiting the different coasts, going to clubs and simply having fun. He hasn’t really had the finances since his family cut him off and even though he and Armand share income, he hasn’t felt the need to go explore like he did when he was single. He makes a decent wage but Armand is rich. It just doesn’t feel like he’s rich since Armand controls their finances.

Oh Louis you are a little caged bird
You must live a little!
I travel quite often during show season but have the rest of the year free.
If you ever need recommendations let me know
I will need you to be my tour guide in New Orleans, for I have never been 😔
And Christine is my manager and assistant. I would be lost without her truly

Relief courses through him. A manager! Of course.

What! Okay I’m taking you to the best spots NOT the tourist traps. You ever had a seafood boil?

No I have not! I am intrigued, let me google this at once

A few minutes pass before Lestat continues typing.

Oh that looks heavenly!! I wish to try all your favorite dishes.

You got any allergies or diet restrictions?

Non, I will eat anything 😏

Jesus Christ, okay maybe this guy is just flirty by nature. Maybe it’s a European thing. Well, Armand is European and can’t flirt to save his life. He types a response. 

It’s settled then
We will eat our way across the city
I also dabble in cooking but I don’t get to too much these days

I rarely cook Louis, you will have to teach me 🙏 I have been known to burn things

Oh no, well I could show you a few easy meals
Just let me know when you’re for sure coming to town so I can plan ahead

Of course! Well, I hate to leave you but I must take care of something before heading to bed. Sweetest dreams to you, Louis

Louis can’t help but feel disappointed at the departure, but he’s already taken up an hour of this man’s time. He should feel grateful if anything. 

No worries, goodnight Lestat

Lestat hearts the message. Louis stays up until six in the morning going through every post of Lestat’s, analyzing the captions and getting jealous of a few comments from random women feeding the man’s ego. Who is he to be jealous? He barely knows this guy. He’s sure the man is simply being polite and their talks will fizzle out if they haven’t already.

———

Lestat’s POV

Lestat grins at his phone before setting it aside. He quickly pulls his hair into a bun on top of his head, a few strands remaining in the front, shaping his face. 

His new friend, Louis remains on his mind as he makes his way from the bedroom, down the hall, peaking his head into the dimly lit bedroom. The room is illuminated by a pink nightlight casting illustrations of hearts and sparkles onto the wall. 

He slips into the room as he sees her sitting up, rubbing her eyes, a pout on her sleepy little face.

“You called for me, ma petite?”

She reaches for him, tiny arms outstretched. He sits on the edge of her bed, long arm wrapped protectively around her, rubbing soothing circles along her back. 

“I had a bad dream, Papa.” She sniffles and it breaks his heart to see his little one so upset.

”Tell me what happened, chérie, I will fight any monster who tries to harm you. 

She hides her face against his chest as she mumbles through the explanation of a dream where something grabbed her ankle from under the bed.

Lestat clicks his tongue in disapproval of this dream terrorizing his daughter, as he gets down on hands and knees, peering under her bed. 

“Claudia, I promise you, I have chased this devil from your room! You are safe, ma puce.”

He rises, helping her lay back down, making sure she’s tucked in just the way she likes before planting her favorite plush toy in her arms. He kisses the top of her head, securing her bonnet where it slipped a bit during her frightful sleep.

”I will be down the hall, get some sleep. I love you. Bonne nuit.”

”Thanks Papa! I love you!” She blows him a tiny kiss and he does the same before returning to his room.

Chapter Text

Louis has the day off and ends up sleeping in until four that afternoon since he was up most of the night analyzing Lestat’s posts.

He stretches, taking his time getting up, in no rush to run into his husband. He feels partially guilty about last night, but he didn’t technically cross any lines, did he?

His stomach noisily growling is what finally forces him up from the bed, sauntering to the kitchen to look for something to eat. He settles for cereal and totally doesn’t make a face as he pours hemp milk into his Spiderman bowl.

Armand speaking in French can be heard from his office and Louis’ mind instantly drifts to Lestat and what his voice might sound like. He surely has an accent being from Paris, but is his voice as attractive as he is? Maybe it’s deep and seductive. What would his laugh sound like? Louis hopes to hear it one day.

The office door clicks open all too soon and Armand manifests at the entrance of the hallway.

“You slept late.”

“Yeah.”

“Sleep well?”

“Couldn’t sleep for a bit. Back’s kinda sore.”

“You should try to sleep in our bed, it’s a much better mattress, Louis.”

Louis hums, like he’s considering it, shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Armand leans against the wall with his arms crossed, sporting a gray cardigan over a black v-neck t-shirt with pressed black trousers that make him look even taller somehow. His eyes are brown swirled with amber, eyes that at one time Louis could easily get lost in. Now he avoids their harsh gaze.

“Any plans today? I will be finished up around five if you’d like to accompany me to the grocery store. I’m out of radishes.”

Tragic.

“I’m okay, I’m gonna play online with the guys for a bit, maybe take a walk.”

Armand simply nods and disappears back down the hallway into his office. Louis releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding at the sound of the door clicking shut.

A message from Lestat pops up and Louis wastes no time unlocking his phone to check. He tries not to show too much enthusiasm as he scrolls through the messages eagerly.

Louis! Good afternoon or evening for you I suppose
Have you had a good day?
I am struggling with the ending of a song
I had to step away for a moment
Cigarette break 🚬
I enjoyed our conversation last night and hope to learn more about you.

I’d love to hear it sometime
Any of your songs I mean
Today’s been okay, I’m off so I’m lounging around
Got any plans tonight? I’m free to chat.

Blissfully no plans!
I will send over my latest composition

Moments later a link to a video comes through; Aimé à Mort by Lestat de Lioncourt. Loved to Death.

Louis clicks the link and presses play. The video was captured in low lighting, shot from an angle to capture Lestat’s side profile as long fingers drift over the keys, commanding, playing an intricate, sorrowful tune. His hair is longer than in his profile picture, draping over his face like a golden veil as he plays. Louis can hear Lestat humming along to the melody and is disappointed he doesn’t begin singing at any point. It hasn’t been confirmed, but Louis imagines he can sing beautifully.

He clicks the profile and skims through other videos. Most were taken by a cellphone on a tripod, but others are obviously professional footage taken in concert halls, Lestat in a suit on the piano bench, hair tied back neatly. This guy is legit and incredibly talented. He takes a few more minutes to ogle before responding to Lestat.

I didn’t realize I was speaking with a musical genius

😭😭😭 Louis stop
I simply enjoy letting my feelings pour out from my fingertips

Jesus even that is poetic. Do you sing?

I do on occasion, mostly around the house
I fronted a band in my 20s 🫣
Do not judge
We were rock
Think Bowie but sluttier

Oh now I’m intrigued
Where can I find those videos 🥵

Louis!! They are embarrassing
I prefer to sing with a shirt on these days

That’s too bad
Wait
Okay I’ve gotta see this
You’re just teasing me at this point

Well I do love to tease but if you wanted to see me shirtless all you had to do was ask, chéri

Lestat please

Please what?

Armand appears from his office again, startling Louis who quickly locks his phone, his smile dropping.

He eyes Louis suspiciously for a moment. “I’m headed to the supermarket. Still can’t convince you to join me?” He clutches a well-used, beige tote bag in one hand, keys to his BMW in the other.

Louis scrunches his nose slightly. “I’m gonna stay here. I’ll just distract you and try to put bacon in the basket.”

Armand’s lips crack into a half smile. “Alright, I’ll be back. Love you.”

Louis immediately unlocks his phone when the front door closes, returning to their messages. New ones from Lestat have popped up.

I guess you are not serious 😔
I will keep the footage hidden for now
Are you busy?
Louis??

Shit sorry I had to take care of something real quick
I am very serious
Please Lestat can you send me a photo at least? 😇😇😇

Sorry Louis
I have to step away
Tonight I will send un petit quelque chose pour toi

I don’t speak French

You’ll have to learn then 😉
Talk soon
Désolé

Louis re-reads through the messages, sighing as he finds himself missing the man already. He hopes they can continue speaking tonight. He really wants to see Lestat shirtless.

Armand arrives home to Louis swearing at the tv, headset on, thumbs going mad against the Xbox controller.

He slides into the kitchen, with no acknowledgment of his arrival.

“Yeah I gotta go, but I can hop on again next Tuesday. Alright, see ya.” The game shuts off and Louis appears at his side, a pace away.

“Hey, how’d the store go?”

“Fine. You could’ve kept playing.”

“I know you don’t like when I yell at the tv, ‘s fine.”

Armand turns, storing the new groceries in the fridge and pantry.

Silently, he holds out a candy bar to Louis who quirks an eyebrow up. Junk food has been banned from the house for the last few weeks, especially ones containing real milk.

“I saw this and thought of you.”

Louis’ expression softens as he takes it. A peace offering.

“Thank you, that’s sweet. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m mostly finished. I want to talk to you about something though.”

Green eyes snap to Armand’s, anxiety brewing in his chest as he tries to work out what his husband wants to talk about. Does he know something?

“What is it?”

“Well, I know our anniversary is coming up in a few weeks but I was told I need to be in Dubai for the entire month of July. I’m terribly sorry, Louis.”

Louis relaxes, trying desperately to keep relief out of his tone. “Oh.”

“I will make it up to you of course. Perhaps we can take a trip when I return? Ten years is something to celebrate after all.” Armand reaches for him, a hand around his waist. Louis wills himself not to pull away.

He nods, forcing a smile. “Sounds nice. Where would we go?”

“Maybe somewhere with a beach? Would you prefer domestic?”

Louis thinks for a moment. “What if we went to Long Beach? I haven’t been to SoCal since I was like twenty.”

Armand shrugs. “Maybe. We have time to think about it.” He releases Louis’ waist and steps away to start dinner.

They make small talk through dinner, Louis buzzing with the idea of a whole month alone. Maybe he can actually speak to his new friend on the phone during that time and finally get to hear what he sounds like.

Louis cleans up, washing the night’s dishes, then they both get ready for bed, side by side in the larger bathroom. Louis moves to head for the guest room when Armand gently tugs his wrist, causing him to pause.

“Stay?”

Louis scrunches his nose. “I work tomorrow and really need to try to sleep, sorry. Maybe tomorrow night.”

Armand releases him, an unreadable look across his face.

Midnight rolls around and Louis finds himself bored, wishing his handsome new friend would reach back out. He doesn’t even have time to think before he’s typing out a message. It’s only 10 for Lestat, so Louis figures he may still be busy.

I know you said you had to step out but I can’t stop thinking about your mysterious band
Don’t think I have forgotten about the photo you promised to send

He receives a response fairly quickly, a smile forming as he reads.

Louis! I will not disappoint you.
I have mostly finished my new song
So I am now yours
If you’ll have me

About that picture?

Ha! Eager to see me without clothes?

I thought this was just a shirtless picture?
Although

Although??
Louis you tease

A photo comes through of a younger Lestat, center stage, pale chest glistening with sweat and glitter. His red pants are tight enough to borderline on uncomfortable, a bulge prominent in the front under a dusting of blonde hair leading up to his navel.

Louis finds himself thinking about licking the sweat off the man’s six pack and pecks. He zooms in, noticing messy eyeliner running down his cheeks.

What the fuck Lestat
I was not prepared for that
I need to take ten cold showers
At least

Oh Louis! I was young and dumb
I am proud to say I still have the same workout routine though
In case you were wondering 😉

Yeah? There are rippling abs trapped under your suits? That’s just unfair
Release them!!

Hmm maybe for you 😉😉😉

Lestat you’re making me crazy

This is good I hope?

I don’t know….

Non? Louis, I believe you owe me a photo in return

I’ll see what I can find

Louis panics momentarily, searching through his album for something seductive enough to send. He hasn’t felt attractive in a while, so he settles on one Armand took of him a few years ago; a photo of Louis in bed, shirtless, hiding his eyes behind a flexed bicep. His slim frame is decorated with dark curls along his chest and just below his navel, leading down to where the photo is cut off before anything too revealing can be shown.

He presses send and Lestat doesn’t waste time before sending a response.

Louis!!! I am in love
Look at you
Mon Dieu

Stop you’re making my cheeks hot

Your cheeks are not the only thing that is hot 🔥🔥🔥
Louis you need to be here
Fuck

Well about that
You said you may be coming to NOLA in a few weeks?
Would you want to crash here? No pressure but I have a guest room and two bathrooms
And I make a mean breakfast spread

Oh?
I’m honored
I will confirm my schedule tomorrow and let you know the dates
I’d love nothing more
I wish to plant kisses to your chest and stomach
And see where the hair leads to 🥵

Fuck Lestat
Don’t say things like that
Unless you mean them

Louis I swear to you
My tongue aches to trace your body

Jesus

Non, it’s Lestat

Stop lol!

Make me

Fuck

Yes?

I wish
My shorts are tight right now if you catch my drift

I wish I could take care of that for you, mon cher

It’s your fault so it’s only fair

I am in a similar situation myself

Oh yeah? Wish I could help
You a top or bottom?

I have no preference 😌
You?

Same
I don’t mind either way
Kinks?

Ha! I don’t think you have the time for me to list what I’d be okay with you doing to me Louis
We are going to be busy

Your mouth looks so pretty in those videos of you playing piano. I’d like to start there.

And do what exactly Louis?

Kiss it
I wonder how you taste

You will just have to find out when I am there soon

Yeah?

😉😉😉
I still cannot believe someone as beautiful as yourself would be single

Louis scratches the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed. He doesn’t want to lie but he would look like a huge dick if he admits it now.

Could say the same about you

Well I have my reservations when it comes to relationships
I have not been in one for six years
I endured a tragedy
I am sorry to ruin the mood Louis
We can keep going

Wait no Lestat I’m so sorry
Do you mind me asking what happened?

Maybe I can tell you in person
Over messages feels wrong

I understand the hesitation around relationships
That must be very hard

It has gotten better
But I still have my moments of sorrow
Therapy helps
So does music

I’m glad you have outlets
I don’t really have many people to talk to
My friends are all busy and we don’t really open up like that
Maybe I should try therapy lol

It can help
But I’m here to listen to you
I can’t have you being sad
Tell me what troubles you, chéri?

Louis hesitates again. How do you tell someone you’re flirting with that you’re in a failing marriage you desperately want to leave but are too scared to? He isn’t sure how to start over again. He decides to tackle one thing at a time.

I have major family baggage
My younger brother was my best friend
Shot himself eleven years ago
I was in college at the time in SF
My mother blamed me for being gay
Said I poisoned his mind
She stopped paying for school and my housing
My sister acts like I’m dead to her too
So I kind of have no one

Louis you have me
Don’t ever say that
Please
I am here okay?

Thanks Lestat
I’m here for you too
Okay I trauma dumped, your turn lol
Doesn’t have to be about what you mentioned before of course

Well on the topic of families
My father abused me and my mother my whole life
We fled when I was a teenager to Paris.
(I was actually born in a small town in France)
She ended up leaving me to fend for myself.
She still pops in and out of my life without regard for my feelings.
I was never good enough for her
She only saw what my father did to her when she looked at me

Wow
I’m so sorry
You don’t deserve that
Look at us, mommy issues galore
I’m here for you too okay?

Thank you Louis
You don’t know how much that means
I haven’t made too many friends yet here in America

I’m honored to be one of them 🥰

Have I ruined tonight’s mood?

No, not at all
But we can also just talk about anything if you want
No pressure for anything else

You’re kind
Talking might be nice
Do you miss being in California?

I do sometimes, mostly the freedom
Feeling a bit stuck here
Don’t get me wrong, I love NOLA, but I miss traveling
You’ve got me thinking, I may come to LA in August for a little vacation

Louis!! This is great news! I can see your home and then you can see mine!
I should be here in August
I really should have a printed schedule
I would love to play some songs for you

My own private concert? Yes please
How much weight can your piano hold?

Quite a bit, why?
Oh
OH
Louis!!

Yeah? 😌

Naughty
I’ll have to remember to pull you over my knee

Oh? Maybe I’m into that

Good
I’m into you

Yeah? I’m into you too

Louis you make my heart pound out of my chest

Is that a good thing?

I think so
I wish you were here

Same
Hopefully I’ll see you here soon?
Don’t forget to check your schedule
Kind of getting my hopes up over here

I will call Christine right now

Lestat! No! It’s super late

It’s fine
This is what I pay her for

Louis can’t stop grinning as he eagerly waits for Lestat’s response. He feels overwhelming joy and excitement talking to this man. It’s refreshing speaking to someone so supportive who seems genuine and interested. They’re both opening up so much and it’s only been a few days.

His phone buzzes several times.

Okay
Good news, Louis
I will be in New Orleans July 3rd-7th
Concerts are on the 5th and 6th
I am having Christine add you to the guest list.
This is convenient I hope?

Yeah!! Yes that’s perfect actually
I’ll request the days off work
I can’t wait to see you perform!

It’s a date then 🥰🥰🥰
I hate to cut our time short
Especially now 🥲
But I must get up early tomorrow
Rehearsal 😭😭😭

I understand
Sorry to keep you

Never apologize! It is a great pleasure to speak with you
Bonne nuit, Louis ❤️

Goodnight, Lestat ❤️

Lestat’s POV

Overwhelming feelings towards this new friend leave Lestat feeling almost manic as he tries to navigate the day. He paces his penthouse apartment, from the living room into the den, circling his baby grand piano like a lion ready to pounce. He’s struggled all morning to focus on a new song. His fingers are itching to play, to let out some of the steam, but his mind can’t commit even after three cigarette breaks on the patio. He isn’t good with handling his feelings, especially ones that have been locked away for so long.

He’s had plenty of hookups but never learns their names. Lestat is not a relationship person. He isn’t a learn your fucking hobbies and likes and how you take your coffee kind of man, not anymore. He finds himself wishing to try with Louis though, he wants to know everything about him. Louis is obviously interested and it’s driving Lestat mad with desire. How cruel it is that he lives all the way in Louisiana? Lestat could cry at the thought.

The sound of Claudia playing in the second living room, the designated play room, snaps him out of his thoughts momentarily. He catches bits and pieces of her imaginative story, no doubt turning her dolls into monsters again, his little macabre darling.

He idly flips through his notes, cursive scribbled all over the pages, littered with music notes. This song has to be perfect. It seems to have taken on a mind of its own, originally starting as a somber ballad. Today, the notes pouring from him could almost be considered positive, still saturated with longing but with an ounce of hope tied in. An unfinished story that has taken a path he didn’t expect. He doesn’t like surprises, even from himself, the whole thing frustrating him deeply.

He steps onto the sizable patio for the fourth time today and lights a cigarette between two slim fingers, gazing out at the gorgeous view of the city his luxurious apartment provides.

He doesn’t want Claudia to sense his uneasiness. She’s very tuned into that sort of thing and it worries him that she will develop anxieties similar to his own.

He needs to snap out of this melancholy. He decides to send Louis a message, smoke escaping his lips as he types.

The discussion turns flirty quickly and Lestat can’t help but smile at his phone. This gorgeous man is complimenting his music! He gets compliments every day, but there’s something special about Louis doing it.

Lestat was instantly drawn to him, going through his entire profile the first night he got the follow request.

Louis replies so eagerly, literally begging Lestat for a photo. He knows just the one to send, but loves to tease Louis. He wants to feel wanted. It’s nice.

The chat becomes even more heated with potential to turn into something more. Lestat turns away from the sliding door, leaning against the railing as he responds to Louis. He presses his front against the rail just to feel some friction against the groin of his navy slacks. Louis actually wants him and he isn’t sure how to process it, though his body seems to have a few ideas.

Louis stopped responding suddenly and Lestat nearly growls with want as he continues to send messages.

The mood is gone in an instant as Claudia bangs on the glass door from inside, her live-in nanny trailing behind her, frantically trying to guide her back to the play room. When Lestat sees the tears threatening to form in her big eyes, he sends Louis a quick apology to let him know he’s busy.

He slides the door open and crouches down to the now crying six year old.

“Ma petite, what is wrong? You are not having fun with Madeleine?” He glances up at the pale redhead before focusing back on his teary eyed daughter.

“I’m sorry Monsieur, she insisted on coming to find you. I told her you’re busy with work, but she wouldn’t have it today.”

Claudia sniffles. “You’re always busy. I want to play with you!”

His heart aches, hating to see her upset, especially since he isn’t always around or available to her.

“I would love to play with you. Madeleine, why don’t you go take a well deserved break.”

He lifts Claudia up onto his hip, whisking her back into the play room. Her sadness is immediately forgotten as Lestat sits on the floor and she starts gathering her tiny plastic tea set.

She places a teacup on the play table in front of Lestat and pretends to pour tea into it.

“What is on the menu today, ma chérie?”

“Bug tea!!” She breaks out into giggles.

He raises the cup, pretending to inspect the contents. “Hmm sounds intriguing. I cannot say I have experienced this flavor before. Will it poison me?”

“Yes! It’s poison but you’re not supposed to know, so shhhhh” she puts her tiny pointer finger up to her lip to shush him, brown eyes full of excitement.

“Ah! Okay, I will enjoy this completely normal tea then.” He blows on it for effect before pretending to take a sip, the teacup looking even smaller in his enormous hand.

“It’s tasty, Mademoiselle. C’est bon. What is that flavor I cannot place?”

“It’s poison!!” Claudia clasps her hands over her mouth, letting out a deep belly laugh at the “reveal”.

Lestat drops the plastic cup onto the rug and clutches at his throat theatrically, pretending to choke, which only makes her laugh harder.

He falls onto his back, keeping up the charade, using a strained voice as he looks to her. “You have tricked me!” He coughs and then lets his eyes roll back.

She runs to him and jumps on his chest, making him cough for real. He reaches for her sides and starts tickling her, drawing out a high pitched scream accompanied by giggles. “Papa, no!!!!!”

He sits up, pulling her in for a hug. “Your poison didn’t work, chérie, you need to concoct a stronger batch next time.”

Her giggles continue and he smiles, feeling incredibly lucky to have such a happy, weird little girl, despite all they’ve been through.

Claudia’s mother died during childbirth, leaving a terrified and heart broken Lestat to raise her on his own for several years before his music career really took off and he could afford to hire help.

His own mother had promised to be around, but abandoned them to travel the world. She doesn’t even bother to call for Claudia’s birthdays.

It hasn’t always been easy, and at one point they shared a tiny studio in Paris, Lestat sleeping on the floor next to her crib.

He worked tirelessly to get to where they are now, in an expensive apartment in downtown Los Angeles where Claudia is well taken care of. He probably spoils her more than he should, but she is his everything.

He’s extremely protective of her, only allowing Madeleine and Christine to be around her. He never brings hookups over, not wanting to confuse her or potentially introduce someone that will not be in her life for very long.

He’s worried about where things might go with Louis, how he would even bring up that he’s a single father. He doesn’t know how he would introduce them, if it ever comes to that. He has a lot of baggage and it’s scary to have to talk about it.

He tries to convince himself he’s thinking too far ahead until he remembers he needs to ask Christine about the New Orleans dates.

He could spend a few nights with Louis, see how things go, while Claudia and Madeleine are tucked away in a nice hotel.

Claudia taps him on the chin, sensing he is not longer paying attention to her, stuck in his thoughts. Even at her young age, she knows his patterns.

“Ouch, gentle, chérie.” He rubs his chin.

“You stopped playing”, she pouts.

“Désolée, sometimes Papa’s brain refuses to focus.”

“Well I want to play!”

“Did you prepare more poisonous tea?”

“Non, Papa! I want to do something else. Hmm…” She looks around the large play room, at her many organized bins of toys and costumes.

“Can I braid your hair? Ohhh and put glitter in it!!”

Lestat chuckles, sitting up. “Oui, just no cutting it this time. Promise?” He thinks back to the shaggy bob he had to sport when a younger Claudia took a chunk out of the back of his hair.

“No cutting.” She giggles, running over to her little play box full of hair accessories and kid-friendly makeup.

She returns to him with purple hair ties, glitter spray and a bag of lipgloss.

He turns around, shaking his hair out in front of her. She stands behind him and begins dowsing his hair with the glitter spray.

“Claud, that’s enough. It’s getting in my eyes.”

She giggles and mercifully sets the spray aside. Her little hands start tugging at chunks of his now sparkling hair, styling it with her take on French pigtails. He tries to sit still, but when did she get so strong? His scalp is going to be feeling this later.

After twenty minutes of Claudia pulling/styling his hair, she steps back to admire her work.

“Your hair is so pretty now, Papa!”

“Mirror?”

“Oh!” She runs back to her toy box, returning with a plastic mirror.

Lestat holds it up, pretending to study himself and the very asymmetric braids. His hair and forehead are streaked with glitter that he’s sure won’t come out anytime soon. “My beautiful little stylist, you’ve done it again! Magnifique!”

She beams at the appraisal. “I’ll do your hair for your next show!”

He laughs, turning to look back at her. “You will have to convince Christine next time she’s over. You know how she is!”

“She always says yes to me”, she says with confidence and Lestat knows that’s scarily true. Claudia is the only person he’s seen Christine break her stern personality with. She actually seems like a human being with empathy around the tiny girl.

He feels goopy wetness hit his bottom lip as Claudia piles on the lipgloss.

His lips stick together slightly as he speaks. “What is the flavor of this one?”

Claudia grins mischievously. “Poison!”

He shakes his head as he laughs, then attacks her cheeks with sticky kisses.

Once Claudia is fed and bathed thanks to Madeleine, and Lestat tucks her into bed, and has his own shower, he finds himself back at the piano. He knows he can’t play right now as it would disturb Claudia, but his hands ache with unused energy.

His attention is directed to his phone as soon as Louis’ username pops up.

He grins and sees where the conversation is quickly going, so he hides away in his room, stripping away the day’s clothes in exchange for something more comfortable.

Louis exchanges photos with him and Lestat gasps as he examines the picture. Louis must be a Saint, a gorgeous man sent to mend his broken heart.

He feels himself begin to stir, adjusting his boxers slightly as he lays down in bed.

They flirt for a while, neither wanting to come out and ask directly for what they actually want. No expectations, no overwhelming promises.

The mood shifts as they share their traumas. He plans to tell Louis about Claudia soon, he just isn’t ready yet. He has to be sure this is going somewhere first even though his gut tells him it’s already there.

He winds up calling his manager to confirm his schedule and is ecstatic to tell Louis the good news. He actually gets to meet this incredible person, in just over two weeks!

He can barely contain his giddiness, even when Christine harshly reminds him of rehearsal tomorrow at 6 AM and yells at him for disrupting her evening.

He apologizes profusely, and decides he should cap his conversation with Louis, otherwise he will stay up all night chatting.

Sleep never takes him, thoughts of Louis consume him into the early hours of the morning, a deep anxiety forming over their impending meetup and how he will bring up Claudia.

Can he truly move on and allow himself to be happy again? Will she be okay with someone potentially joining their little family? His alarm cuts through the silence and he lets out a deep sigh before starting his day.

Chapter Text

The next day passes by in a haze. He’s at the bar trying to stay busy even though it’s a Thursday with several lulls in customer traffic. Too much stillness when his brain needs him to stay busy and focused is making the day difficult to get through. He can’t stop smiling to himself as he thinks of Lestat, of last night’s conversation, despite trying to focus on writing the schedule for the upcoming week. Lestat wants him and he will be here, in person, in a matter of weeks.

The schedule will have to wait, he can barely stop himself from writing “Lestat” inside of a drawn heart. He places his pen and notebook under the counter, then attempts to busy himself with stacking clean glasses.

His coworker turned friend, Lily, makes a b-line to him, crossing in front to block him so he can’t run from the question she’s about to spring on him.

“Louis de Pointe Du Lac, are you and your husband finally fucking again?”

Louis drops the glass he was holding, the shattering sound snapping him back to reality.

“Lily! What kind of question is that?”

He bends down to pick up shards of glass as she retrieves a broom and dust pan, then returns to dig deeper into his personal life.

“You’ve been looking out the front window smiling all afternoon. What am I supposed to think? You look like you finally downloaded Grindr and got laid.”

His hand hovers over a piece of glass.

“Louis….. what did you do?” Her voice turns into a whisper. “Did you actually cheat on Armand?”

Louis stands. “Would you stop? These are not appropriate things to be asking your manager.”

She gives him a look, daring him to try something. She knows as well as he does, he could never write her up.

Knowing he’s already lost the battle, he grabs her wrist and guides her into the back room for employees only, his voice still hushed. “I…. I met someone.”

She tries so hard not to show excitement but fails, her brown eyes lighting up despite the frown she wills to stay.

“Details. Now.”

He laughs at her eagerness and inappropriate interest in his sex life.

“Well, I saw this guy on Instagram. We started messaging and he’s a huge flirt. I definitely didn’t mean to flirt back, but he’s really hot okay!”, he practically whines, causing her to laugh.

“He…well, he might be coming out here. I mean, he definitely is coming out here early July.”

She opens her mouth to cut in but he holds up a hand. “Armand will be in Dubai the entire month.” He can’t help but grin.

“Sounds like you’re finally going to get dicked down. Let me see this man that has you smiling like that.”

He hesitates. “Well, he’s blonde.”

She studies him. “Okay… I’ve bleached my hair before, so have you. What’s the issue?”

“A natural blonde.”

“Louis, if you do not pull up a photo right now!!” She makes a move to reach into his pocket and he twists his hips away from her.

He quickly slides the phone out before she starts digging in his pants because she would, and pulls up Lestat’s profile, scrolling to one of his favorite photos where Lestat’s jawline is sharp enough to cut a steak, icy eyes half lidded, wearing a seductive grin.

She snatches his phone, gasping as she zooms in on the photo. “Oh my GOD, is he a model??”

“Surprisingly no, he’s a composer. He will be here to do some concerts actually.”

“Well Mister composer just messaged you.” She squints as she reads it out loud, smirking.

““Missing you, how is your day, Louis? I haven’t stopped thinking of you for a second.” “He misses you!! You better go file for divorce NOW! Seriously, what’s your plan here?” She returns his phone, searching his face for any sign that he actually has made a plan.

He sighs. “I don’t even know, Lil. I have feelings for him that I can’t deny. It just feels right. He listens to me, compliments me, he just seems so genuine you know? I haven’t felt a spark like this since-“

“Since that creepy husband of yours sat across the bar night after night, Baby Reindeer style until you gave in?”

“Jesus, tell me how you really feel…” he goes back out front, attempting to busy himself by wiping down the bar.

She’s a step behind him. “Louis, you know I care about you. Seriously, why don’t you just get a divorce?”

He pauses his attempt at cleaning to look down. “I don’t know. Divorce is a touchy subject with the church and all-“

“You haven’t set foot in a church in over ten years, Lou. And remind me of their feelings on gay marriage?”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing. You both deserve this. He can go off and do whatever weird shit he’s into and you can be happy for once, Louis. I haven’t seen you smiling like today in…well it’s been a really long time.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Chase your own happiness.”

He looks at her with sad eyes. “I’m scared. I haven’t been on my own in so long and I don’t know if I can afford my own place anymore. I can’t go back to having roommates, I refuse. And Lestat lives in LA. I can’t just up and move!”

“Louis, money is not a reason to stay married to someone. You know this.”

“Of course I do. But-“

“Do you love him?”

“I mean, it’s too early to say. I could see-“

“I meant Armand.”

“Oh.”

On a break, Louis sits in the back, coffee in hand as he responds to Lestat’s earlier message.

I can’t wait til you’re here. My friend wants to meet you lol
I was telling her about you
Made me realize some stuff

What “stuff” might you be referring to Louis?

I dunno
Feelings I guess
I know it’s early, really early
But I like you Lestat. A lot

I feel the same Louis
I count down the hours until we can meet

You’re gonna be counting for a while then lol
Still got a few weeks

I am going mad with desire for you

I can’t focus at work

I wrote you a song

What!?

It is not complete but it has kept me busy
I yearn for you
I feel incomplete

Lestat….

Yes Louis?

I have to get back to work
But I can’t wait to hear the finished song
Maybe you’ll play it for me?

I would love nothing more
Well maybe one thing more ❤️

Louis stares at his screen in disbelief. Did Lestat mean….?

He shoves his phone into his pocket and returns to the bar, desperate to run to the airport and buy a one way ticket to LA.

He composes himself around customers and makes polite conversation, though he can feel Lily’s stare from across the room.

Lestat’s POV

Lestat lays on the plush sofa, drink in hand. His other arm is thrown over his face, head seeking refuge as if he could hide from his blossoming feelings and anguish.

He knows what this means. And it hurts. Not just for him, but the thought of dragging Claudia into this. Fuck. What if she is not open to the idea of him dating?

He aches to hold Louis in his arms. He knows their connection will only grow when they meet and he isn’t sure he will know how to act. He hasn’t been lovesick in so long and it stings. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again. He knows how obsessed he gets when gives all of himself to someone.

After Akasha, he swore off love. Not sex of course, but the pain of seeing her die, knowing something was wrong when there was so much blood- too much blood, will forever haunt him. He refused to get too close to anyone since and has put everything into taking care of the only thing he has left of her, Claudia. Six long years alone, raising their beautiful daughter because she deserves the world and Lestat has made sure he can finally provide that for her.

He lets out a sob against his arm, curling onto his side as he lets the half empty glass fall to the coffee table. He pulls a pillow to his chest, breathing turning labored as he aches from loss and this new, terrifying feeling of love.

The memories that haunt his dreams replay in his head.

He refused to leave her, clasping her cold, lifeless hand until they placed a crying baby in his arms. This little angel needed him and he was forced to let them take Akasha away. He will never forget how she looked, still so pretty in death, almost like a statue.

He had to be strong at the funeral, her family shooting daggers at him with their glares. He had no one, his mother didn’t even show up. A tiny Claudia in his arms was the only thing keeping him from joining Akasha in the grave.

She didn’t keep him, however, from numbing his pain night after night to the point where she temporarily got taken away from him when she was a baby.

He got cleaned up and fought like hell to get her back. Six months felt like a lifetime, but he managed and the fear of losing her again kept him motivated to do better.

He weeps into a pillow, no doubt ruining the expensive fabric. His heart has never skipped a day of grieving but he’d like to make space for his new paramour.

He’s startled when he feels a tiny hand on his back. “Papa, you’re sad again.”

Quickly he sits up, trying to rub away any fallen tears, but it’s no use. His eyes are red and puffy and Claudia’s frown matches his own.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m okay.”

Claudia climbs onto the couch into his lap and buries her face against his chest, seeing through the obvious lie. “Please don’t be sad, Papa.”

“I’m sorry, bébé. I didn’t mean to concern you.” He gently runs his fingers along her braids, trying to steady his breathing.

“I don’t like when you’re sad because then I’m sad. But you know what cheers me up?”

His hand moves down to rub her back, her presence grounding him as it always has. “What is that, chérie?”

“Ice cream!”

A genuine chuckle escapes his throat. “Of course it does, let us get our shoes then.”

Madeleine appears from the hallway, her hair flattened on one side, clearly roused from sleep. “Désolé, I nodded off when she went down for a nap. I can take her for ice cream, Monsieur.” She takes in his tear stained, puffy eyes and the discarded rocks glass but politely doesn’t comment.

“No! I want Papa!”

“C’est bon, I could use an ice cream. Shall we bring you one?”

Madeleine shakes her head and thanks him.

They hold hands as they walk, ice cream secured in their free hands. The warmth of the sun feels good. The chocolate swirl cone helps too.

Claudia happily works on her bubblegum cone as they pass shops and restaurants. Her tiny sunglasses match his and he grips her hand like a lifeline. He makes a mental note to schedule an emergency therapy session so he doesn’t further traumatize his daughter with his own baggage. He should also probably come clean with Louis if he expects this to go anywhere.

Louis has been so honest with him, opening up about his family and his own loss. He can probably relate to the grief and will most likely offer genuine comfort. He seems like such a sweet soul and Lestat finds himself truly smitten with the idea of them spending time together soon.

He’ll tell him everything.
Eventually.

Chapter Text

Two weeks quickly pass by in an explosion of enamoration. Louis and Lestat make the effort to message one another every single day, even if their schedules sync for only an hour of conversation. They carve time for one another into their often hectic lives. They are there for each other when work gets frustrating or when insomnia strikes. Louis has talked Lestat down from a few panic attacks while Lestat convinced Louis not to quit his job after a particularly shitty day last weekend. They exchange memes and videos that remind them of each other and discuss their favorite media, music and books, offering recommendations to one another.

They’ve yet to speak over the phone, Louis making vague excuses each time Lestat asks if he can call. He obviously can’t let Armand overhear and he’s also hesitant to take the next step. Messaging feels safe and controlled, Louis spares little room for the unexpected.

He barely sees Armand, practically locked in the guest room when he’s at home so he can freely grin at his phone whenever they exchange messages. He knows he’s past the point of no return when Lestat sends over his flight details that morning. He will be here in three days and Louis couldn’t be more on edge.

They’ve toed the line when it comes to sexting, Louis’ wrist getting quite the workout the last few weeks from the heavy flirting and teasing alone.

The time is never right and Lestat keeps having to step away or go to bed. It sucks, but Louis will take any scraps he can get. He knows Lestat is busy, yet it drives him crazy, coming up with all sorts of ideas about what pulls Lestat away each afternoon and evening aside from work. He’s claimed it’s for early rehearsals, but Louis can’t help feeling like he’s hiding something.

He will never admit to crying himself to sleep some nights, the feeling of being wanted yet so alone overbearing. He’s sure Armand has heard him, though he hasn’t commented, occasionally sending a goodnight text from down the hall.

The countdown to their meeting inches closer and Louis is practically vibrating out of his skin. He has the week requested off work and plans to deep clean the apartment and hide every single trace of Armand the second he steps out the front door. 

Armand is finishing up packing, his flight leaving later that day. Louis is being eagerly helpful, passing him pressed shirts and coats from their closet.

“Is it even cold enough for this?” He holds up the charcoal peacoat in question.

“I may get cold at night”, Armand counters.

“Ah, good point.” He hands it off and Armand carefully tucks it away into one of his sleek suitcases.

“Have you seen-“

“Here.” Louis holds out one of Armand’s favorite ties, a silk, forest green one he gifted him on their fifth anniversary.

Armand smiles and their hands briefly touch as Louis passes him the tie. He gazes into Louis’ eyes with want, feeling desire buzzing off of Louis, unaware it isn’t directed towards himself.

“Will you be okay while I’m away? I’ve left my second black card and the keys to my car. All bills are on autopay, including the mortgage.”

Louis stifles a scoff, his tone clipped. “I’m not a child, I’ll be fine. You’ve been gone plenty of times.”

“It’s a whole month, darling. I know you get lonely and tend to shut yourself in the apartment. I worry about you.” He turns to zip the massive suitcase.

“Plus, it’s the first anniversary I will be missing. Oh, which reminds me.”

Armand opens the dresser and pulls out a red envelope, holding it out to Louis.

“Open it on the date, my love.”

Louis takes it, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thank you.”

Armand rolls his suitcases into the living room, leaving Louis to turn the envelope over in his hands. Of course it’s sealed with a wax stamp. It feels heavy, definitely housing a nice card, Beloved written in cursive on the front. Louis plans to open it when Armand leaves, placing it atop the dresser for now as he trails after his husband.

“Your gift is on the way, I’m sorry. I ordered it before I knew you’d be gone.” Louis can’t help but feel slightly bad for not having a gift ready to exchange.

“It will be something to look forward to.” Armand double checks that he has his passport.

“Maybe you could call, day of?”

“I will try, the time zones are quite different.”

“Yeah, I get that. Whatever works.”

“Looks like I have everything.” Amber eyes meet emerald. “My Uber should be here shortly.” Armand suddenly embraces Louis, planting a kiss on his lips, the feeling foreign at this point. Come to think of it, he can’t remember the last time they shared physical contact like this.

Armand’s expensive cologne fills his lungs, his breath perfectly minty and fresh. Louis closes his eyes as the kiss gets more desperate on both sides.

Louis can’t help but kiss back, his guilt beginning to eat at him and he has to admit the affection feels good. He’s been so pent up for weeks and is taking it out on Armand right now as he bites his bottom lip.

Armand makes a small surprised yet pleased yelp against his lips, pushing his hips against Louis’, hands snaking around his hips, down to his round ass for a squeeze.

Louis begins to feel overwhelmed with the contact, so he draws back, receiving a clear look of disappointment from Armand.

He whispers against Armand’s lips. “Babe, you’re gonna piss off your driver.”

Armand immediately neutralizes his expression as he searches Louis’ eyes. “You’re right. I’ll check in when I land, though you may be asleep.”

Louis nods, giving him another quick hug.

“I love you, Louis, see you soon.”

“Have a safe flight.”

Louis sighs once the door closes, taking in the state of the apartment. He has a lot to do and not much time.

Sweat drips from his brow, despite the ac on full blast. He admires his work, a spotless apartment that looks lived in but not too cluttered or unwelcoming. It hasn’t been this clean in who knows how long and Louis finds himself grinning at the thought of all the alone time. No longing stares from Armand, no having to hide how often he’s on his phone messaging Lestat.

Most of the living room furniture is his from his previous apartment with roommates, a compromise they made when they moved in together. Louis’ taste in the living room and Armand’s in their bedroom. He has a slightly eccentric style, jewel tones for the couch, loveseat and accent chairs with walnut shelves for his books, comics and superhero collection. A matching wooden coffee table is the centerpiece with a few potted plants scattered upon the various surfaces in the room. 

He tosses a few photos from their wedding into a basket, along with an assortment of odd things belonging to Armand and his wedding ring, stashing them away in the back of the hall closet. Most of Armand’s belongings are kept in his office which he keeps locked.

After throwing away almost all the food in the fridge that would surely go bad by the time Armand returned and dousing the house in a pleasant cinnamon and citrus room spray, Louis hops in the shower, determined to enjoy the next few days he has alone before Lestat arrives.

Louis
I’m nervous about tomorrow
You will be in my arms
What if you don’t like me
Or
If you think my voice is stupid

I would never
Although
I haven’t heard it yet

Well
I could finally call you? 
You are actually available this time for a phone call?

I’m down
Fuck I’m nervous
My stomach just twisted

You no longer wish for me to call? 🥺

No! Of course I want you to
Please call me ❤️ I’m sorry it’s taken this long

Louis sends over his cellphone number, figuring they may as well have each other’s personal numbers at this point rather than rely on an unstable Instagram connection.

There is a brief pause before his phone rings. He answers on the third ring, willing his voice to be calm and his breathing to be even.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Louis”, Lestat practically purrs into the phone, his deep voice sending a shiver down Louis’ spine at the way he pronounces his name with an accented tongue.

“Fuck, your voice is so… I really like it.”

Lestat chuckles, a precious sound he hopes to hear more of.

“Oh Louis. Your voice is that of an angel, mon cher. Your accent is most inviting.”

“So is yours. Can you say something in French, please? A full sentence.” Louis sits on his turquoise couch, legs crossed in front of him.

“Demain, je t'embrasserai jusqu'à ce que tu me supplies.” Tomorrow, I'll kiss you until you're begging

“What does that mean?”

Lestat laughs, “You’ll have to find out tomorrow.”

Louis laughs too, finding himself completely enamored with Lestat, unable to stop smiling.

“What else might I find out tomorrow?”

Lestat swallows, hesitating. “Perhaps we might discuss a few things in person before anything progresses. As much as it pains me to wait even a moment longer to hold you, I should tell you something.”

Fuck, he probably is married.

A nervous laugh escapes Louis. “Oh, should I be worried?”

“Non, I promise it is not bad. It just may be a dealbreaker for you but I must be honest, Louis.”

“Well, I can’t help but worry now.“ Louis feels his stomach flip with anxiety.

“Louis, it will be okay, I promise you, chéri. Trust me. Hopefully after we can enjoy each other properly.”

“Okay…. I can’t wait to see you, Lestat.” His voice is soft as he tries to push away the worry.

“Soon, mon amour, soon.”

“I could pick you up from the airport?”

“Ah, I appreciate the offer but I am arriving with my manager. She will be checking me into a hotel.” His voice lowers. “That doesn’t mean I have to sleep at said hotel.”

Louis laughs. “I like the sound of that. You can sleep here, I have a big bed.”

“Tell me Louis, what else do you have that is big?” Lestat’s voice is impossibly deep.

Louis almost chokes before collecting himself. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.” He knows he has no problems in the size department, but the question caught him off guard, how Lestat’s flirting often does, although it’s easier to navigate through text.

“Oh I plan to. I have been thinking of that moment for quite some time.”

“Oh yeah? Feel free to elaborate.” Louis can’t help himself when he lays down and lets his fingers tease against the waistband of his boxers.

“Mmm, oui. My heart will finally feel whole once we embrace, chéri.”

“Lestat, you’re so intense. But I like it.” Louis grins.

“I am only speaking the truth. I have thought of little else these past weeks.”

“I feel the same. I’m not good at this whole thing though, just a heads up. I want to be, but I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s been… a while for me. All of this, this intense fucking feeling, you know?”

“Oh yes, for me as well. I do not wish to stop it though. I love you, Louis.”

Louis’ eyes get wide and he sits up, hesitating for a beat. “Lestat, you don’t mean that.”

“I do! I know you are special and meant to be in my life. My Saint Louis.”

Louis’ breath is shaky and it feels like the room is spinning.

“Are you there, Louis?”

“Yeah, I just need a second.”

“I am sorry if I overwhelmed you, but this is how I feel, chéri. I need you.”

“I need you too. I’m just not used to being wanted like this, sorry. It’s a bit to take in.”

“I will do whatever makes you comfortable. Even if it means not telling you daily how much I adore you.”

Louis huffs out a small laugh, clearly still overwhelmed.

“Did I fuck things up, Louis? Merde. Please forgive me, I should not have said that to you even though I mean it.”

“No, I promise you’re good. I’m just at a loss for words right now.”

“Oh I see. Would talking about it help, Lou? We can process the big emotions?”

He gets another small laugh out of Louis.“Maybe, yeah. I don’t know how to start though. My heart is beating out of my chest right now to be honest.”

“Take a breath. Good, another. Let it out slowly. You are alright, I am here, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen, you are safe with me.”

Louis breathes in and out as Lestat instructs him to until his nerves begin to calm.

“Any better, Louis?”

“Mhm, I think so. I can’t promise I won’t be a wreck tomorrow though.”

“Good thing I will be there to help you through it and kiss you until you cannot think of anything else.”

“I’m looking forward to that.”

“Are you quite sure you are alright, Louis? I am worried now.”

“I promise I’m okay, I’m really sorry. I guess we haven’t really discussed some important things. We can chat tomorrow, like you said.”

“Oui, that sounds perfect.”

“I hate to cut this short and we can text if you want, but I need to go grab some groceries and pick up a couple things from the pharmacy.”

“I have lube if this is what you mean.”

Louis coughs, taken off guard yet again at how comfortable Lestat seems to be with every topic.

“Oh! I mean, yeah I was going to get some anyway, don’t worry about it. Um, what size condoms do you usually get?”

“I have been tested if you are worried.” Lestat chuckles. “If you simply wish to know what to expect, magnum XL.”

“Fuck, okay, um that sounds intimidating but amazing. I’m pretty thick myself actually.” 

“I ache to feel you fully, mon cher, we do not need a barrier between our love when you split me in half.”

The sensual tone of Lestat’s voice is calming, even if Louis is fully out of his element, now wondering what he got himself into. He’s unable to stop himself from practically moaning into the phone.

“Fuck, I want that too. Fill you up.”

“I will take it so well for you. Perhaps I should arrive wearing a plug so I am ready for you?”

“Fuck, Lestat. You’re crazy, you know that?”

“You love it.”

Louis smiles. “Maybe I do.”

A hitch in Lestat’s breath can be heard through the line. “Louis, I need you. Are you touching yourself?”

Louis instinctively curls his palm over the throbbing bulge in his lap. “I might be. Are you? Sure sounds like some heaving breathing going on.”

He swears he hears Lestat whimper. “I am, I long for you. Only you, mon cher. I wish to make you feel good. Touch yourself for me.”

Louis releases his own desperate sound as he pulls his boxers down just enough to free his cock, taking himself in hand. “Fuck, I wish you were here.”

“Tomorrow. I will take care of you properly. For now, let me hear you, cheri.”

Louis lets out a low moan as he slowly strokes himself. Lestat’s deep voice combined with the thought of the man doing the same are overwhelming in the best way. His cock practically weeps hearing Lestat’s voice.

“Baby, let me hear you.”

He hears Lestat let out a little gasp and then practically purr, “This is merely a taste. I will put on a proper show tomorrow. I cannot wait to have my hands on you, mon cher. And my tongue.”

Louis’ breath hitches. “Yeah? You wanna taste me? Tell me what you’re doing right now, Lestat.”

“Mm well I am imaging my lips trailing down your body, finding a home wrapped around your cock. It’s quite nice to think of.”

Louis grunts as his wrist moves quicker at the thought of being inside this gorgeous man. 

He suddenly hears rushed movement from the other line combined with Lestat’s hushed voice firing off in rapid French, sounding frustrated, obviously holding the phone away from his mouth so Louis can’t fully hear him.

“Je peux t'aider à faire tes valises en un instant. Allez, attends-moi.”
I will help you pack in a moment. Go on, wait for me.

Lestat’s voice comes through the phone, directed back to Louis as he lets out a frustrated sigh. “I must go. My apologies, Louis. I’ll leave you to your shopping. See you tomorrow? I will make it up to you.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Lestat hangs up, leaving Louis stunned and still achingly hard. Who the fuck was he talking to? Louis didn’t hear anyone else, but he knows sometimes the phone blocks out background noise. What the fuck. He is not jealous.

Lestat’s POV

“Claudia, I was on the phone! I thought you packed this morning with Madeleine? What did we go over about knocking before you enter?”

He storms into her bedroom, put off at the interruption and grateful he was beneath his comforter when she barged in.

She looks over at him, her suitcase open with everything strewn across her bed and the floor.

“Putain de merde! Pourquoi as-tu fait ça ?” Goddammit! Why did you do this?

She looks down. “I just wanted to make sure I packed Mr. Mojo. I couldn’t find him. I’m sorry, Papa, please don’t be mad.”

His expression softens immediately, her eyes always reminding him of her mother’s. He takes a breath to rid his voice of anger. “Let me help you look.” He starts moving clothes around, looking under her bed, in her closet, and everywhere he can think of for the stuffed dog.

“Where did you last have him, bébé?”

“I don’t remember.” She pouts.

“Has Madeleine seen him?”

“She said no! I can’t go without him, we have to find him or I’m not going!” She flops down onto the bed, on top of her scattered clothes. The dramatics she gets from him of course.

“I will find him. Let me go look elsewhere.”

He waltzes into the play room, on a mission. He turns the room upside down before finally finding the stuffed dog buried under a couch cushion. He returns to her with the toy hidden behind his back.

“Did you find him??”

“Peut être. But he is upset. He was discarded in the sofa cushions. This is not a good place for toys, now is it?”

She shakes her head, frowning, eyes hopeful that she will get to see her beloved toy again.

He finally reveals it, holding the furry stuffed dog out for her and she squeals. “Papa, you’re the best!!”

He chuckles. “Okay, clean up time.”

He can feel his hair begin to frizz as soon as they step off the plane into the crowded airport. It’s smaller than LAX, but feels no less overwhelming as he makes his way to baggage claim, Claudia held up on his hip wearing a little purple backpack with bat wings attached to the sides.

She’s in a mood because her ears popped the entire flight and she managed to have two tantrums in the airport and on the plane, causing other passengers to stare in judgment at the father who can’t control his screaming child.

He forgot his phone charger and couldn’t listen to music throughout the flight to calm down, instead allowing Claudia access to his iPad to play games to cease her tears.

Lestat’s nerves are fried and his patience is gone as Madeline and Christine come up behind him. Between this and the anxiety around meeting up with Louis, his jaw is tense. He can’t wait to be in a silent car on the way to their hotel.

Madeleine carefully asks, “Do you want me to take her? I can-“

“No. She wants to be carried and you are not strong enough.” His tone is clipped as he stares down at her. Madeleine is used to his moods and doesn’t push any further. Even Christine is quiet beside them, eyeing Lestat as they stand at baggage claim.

Lestat stares out the window as they make the drive into the heart of the city. Their hotel is in the French Quarter and he finds his mood improving as he excitedly takes in the sights.

The gorgeous buildings and bustling streets excite him and he finds himself eager to explore everything with Louis. He wants to know Louis’ favorite spots and make new memories with him.

Lestat’s voice cuts through the silence in the car. “I will be going out for a few hours to meet up with a friend.”

Madeline simply nods before turning to look out her window. Christine turns around to give him a look, her concern building the last few weeks as he has been more erratic and closed off and even showed up smelling like liquor at a few rehearsals.

The ride is short and soon they have bellhops loading their bags onto dollies as Christine slides into the lobby to get key cards for the three rooms.

Lestat picks a limp Claudia up, the drive having knocked her out.

They make their way to their rooms which take up the entire top floor of the historic hotel.

Madeleine motions towards Claudia with her chin and Lestat follows her to her room to tuck Claudia in for a proper nap.

He kisses Claudia on the forehead before he turns to Madeleine and whispers, “I don’t know what time I’ll be back tonight. But don’t worry, I will give you some personal time this week.” He smiles, hoping to smooth over the sourness from his mood at the airport. She smiles back and nods before he turns to leave.

In the hall, he unlocks his phone whose battery is dangerously close to dying and immediately rings Louis.

“Hey, did you make it in?” Louis sounds excited, much less nervous than he sounded last night. Lestat was up all night worrying that he fucked things up, that Louis would ghost him and break his heart.

“Oui, I am leaving my hotel now. Should we meet at your place or do you feel like un café?”

“Coffee could be good, where’s your hotel?”

He pauses to look around at the street signs as he emerges from the hotel. “On Royal Street near Ursulines Avenue. Are you close?”

“Actually yeah, I’m a few blocks away. Meet me at CC’s Coffee. You’re like a block from there. I’ll send you the address just in case.”

“See you there, Louis.” Lestat grins as he hangs up and awaits directions. He gets the address right before his phone dies.

Louis’ POV

Louis swallows hard as he checks his hair in the mirror for the tenth time. He re-checks his breath before finally grabbing his keys and heading on foot to the cafe. He sent Lestat the address as soon as they hung up, so he’s probably there already. Fuck. He can’t believe he’s going on a date. With Lestat. While he’s married.

He ends up outside the cafe much sooner than he expected to, probably nervously walking a quicker pace the whole way.

He doesn’t see anyone sitting outside due to the scorching summer heat, so he heads in, holding his breath as he searches the space. His eyes focus in on a blonde man sitting at a table in the back, under an air conditioner. He smiles as he walks up to the table.

Lestat is wearing a purple t-shirt that brings out his eyes, cut into a slight v with some light chest hair peaking out. The shirt can barely contain his arm muscles, making Louis nearly drool. His pants are black and loose, paired with matching loafers. He must not have even changed after his flight. Louis smiles at the thought of Lestat rushing to meet him.

“Is this seat taken?” Blue eyes meet his and he thinks he’s going to pass out. Lestat leaps up, pulling him into a crushing hug. They stay like that, neither wishing to let go. Lestat nuzzles his head into Louis’ neck as they embrace and he plants a soft kiss there, before moving to kiss his cheeks. Lestat’s cologne reminds him of dark fruit, maybe pomegranate or spiced wine. Whatever it is, the scent is intoxicating.

Lestat steps back first, eyeing him with a huge grin. “You are even more breathtaking in person! Oh, I’m so happy to see you, mon Louis!”

Louis smiles, feeling genuinely happy, all the doubt and guilt and fucked up feelings washing away now that Lestat is standing here in front of him.

“Would you like a coffee? My treat.”

Lestat smirks, desire fully taking over. “Would you judge me if I said we should go back to your place? Fuck the coffee.”

Louis grins as Lestat holds his hand out. Louis clasps it, his hand noticeably smaller against Lestat’s which makes his cock stir. He guides him out of the cafe back into the heat and they make their way to his apartment.

Chapter Text

Louis swiftly unlocks the door of his second floor apartment. It’s a nicely maintained older building with only four units, renovated from the floods in the heart of the Quarter with a balcony overlooking the busy streets below. Armand purchased it their fourth year together and Louis believes the mortgage is already close to being paid off, even though Armand could’ve easily afforded the full price in cash.

The door opens up into the main area, which has an updated, open floor plan revealing a sizable modernized kitchen, dining area and living room. The hallway leading to both bedrooms, bathrooms and the office sits to the left of the kitchen. Louis is thankful he tidied up, because his home now appears inviting and plays the perfect role of an upscale bachelor pad with only traces of himself visible to his guest. He can’t help but scan the room once more, on the hunt for anything out of place or reminiscent of his husband.

Pleased when he finds nothing, he guides Lestat inside where his desire overtakes him as he immediately crowds the blonde against the closed door with a hungry kiss, all plans of talking before they take the next step gone from both their brains.

Lestat moans, pleasantly caught off guard, but with no complaints as his large hands trail down Louis’ sides, ending on his plump ass with a squeeze.

Louis releases a breathy moan as their tongues dance, bodies pressed together with Lestat’s thigh slotted between Louis’ legs. He shamelessly grinds against it, erection already beginning to beg for release, skin buzzing as they frantically kiss. Lestat’s touch is so electric that Louis feels high from it. The desperation in both their moans a chorus puffing out against one another’s skin. 

Lestat tastes like hints of gum or maybe toothpaste along with something sweet Louis can’t place, like an expensive dessert you’d enjoy on an anniversary.

Touch starved and hopelessly drawn to one another, they rut against any friction they can find, their needy moans further egging one another on. 

“Mm, need you.” Louis licks down Lestat’s cut jaw, rolling his hips against his strong thigh. Lestat throws his head back, briefly wincing as it hits the door, a low moan bubbling out in response.

”Oh, are you okay, baby?” Louis places a protective hand behind Lestat’s head, fingers weaving into golden strands as a barrier. Lestat nods, the pain already forgotten, eyes shining with an incredible fondness as he watches Louis. His expression manages to tug on Louis’ heart while simultaneously sending a pleasurable throb straight to his cock.

Louis can’t wait another second. He breaks the heated kiss to pull Lestat through the apartment, down the hall and into the main bedroom. A king-sized bed with freshly washed golden baroque bedding takes up a fair amount of space, with a matching dresser, a wardrobe and two night stands.

Lestat takes in the room for a moment, hesitating. “Could I use your washroom? I need to freshen up. The weather, it is so humid, chéri.” His brows furrow.

Louis laughs and guides him into the attached bathroom. “There are fresh towels there and I should have some spare deodorant-“ He crouches down, digging through the under-sink cabinet. “Here you go.” He holds out a travel size deodorant as he stands.

”Merci, I will only be a moment.” Lestat graciously takes the mini container and grabs a plush, white towel from its home on the shelf Louis had referenced.

Louis takes the hint and retreats, closing the door behind him to give the man some privacy. He kicks off his shoes then perches onto the edge of the bed, his excitement barely contained as he waits for Lestat to return. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at the man’s reaction to summer in New Orleans, admittedly probably one of the least enjoyable times in the city for tourists who aren’t prepared for sticky, unforgiving heat.

He hears water splashing in the sink followed by the unmistakable sound of the deodorant lid being popped off. A few moments later, the door opens and Lestat makes a b-line for Louis. 

“I feel much better, merci. Now where were we?” He practically purrs and Louis swears he can see the blonde’s eyes darken with lust.

He takes the lead, pushing Louis onto the bed, quickly climbing on top to straddle his hips before he leans down to continue his exploration, tongue teasing against Louis’ irresistible, plump lips. Louis groans, the smell of his own deodorant wafting off Lestat further turning him on. He feels like he’s already claimed the man. 

“Fuck, Les. We gotta get these clothes off”, Louis pants, tugging at the hem of Lestat’s t-shirt.

Lestat sits up, the tent in his trousers resting over Louis’ own hardness. He smirks as he grinds down, moaning loudly, whorishly even, as their clothed cocks collide.

Louis groans again and reaches up to pull Lestat’s shirt over his head. In awe of his sculpted body, he runs his hands down Lestat’s pecks and chest, landing on the button of his pants. His eyes meet Lestat’s, silently asking for permission. Lestat nods, drunk with lust as he adjusts so Louis can undress him easier. His cock springs free and Louis laughs, unable to help himself. Of course he’s not wearing underwear.

“Something funny, chéri?” Lestat takes hold of the thick base of his long cock, angling it proudly, tip flushed pink peaking out from beneath the foreskin, already dribbling a bead of pre cum. His pubes are neatly trimmed and light, not quite as dark as the hair on his head which Louis suspects is dyed anyway.

Louis can’t stop staring at his swollen cock. “Fuck, that’s huge.”

Lestat grins in a feline way, proud of his appendage and eager for Louis to reveal his own. “Your turn.” He playfully smacks Louis’ thigh with his length.

Louis has never gotten up and undressed quicker, practically ripping off his t-shirt, jeans and boxers. He returns to Lestat, tackling him on the bed, seated between his open thighs.

Louis’ own cock is fairly long but much thicker than Lestat’s, purple at the tip with a dark, prominent vein lining the base, decorated with a freckle near the head.

Lestat’s mouth waters as he looks between them, clearly pleased with Louis’ size. “Mon Dieu. Grab the lube.”

Louis chuckles and leans over to reach the nightstand, presenting a brand new bottle. He lays it next to them on the bed before he goes on an exploratory trip of Lestat’s body with his tongue. Their lips meet briefly before Louis breaks away, trailing hungry kisses down Lestat’s jaw, to his muscular neck. He licks right over his Adam’s apple, feeling the vibrations of Lestat’s moans against his tongue. He tastes so sweet, despite still being slightly sweaty. Louis takes his time, flicking his tongue under Lestat’s ear before sucking on the lobe.

His hands move down to squeeze Lestat’s hard pecks, teasing a pink nipple with his tongue before he pays attention to the other one.

Lestat is so loud as his nipples harden under Louis’ touch, just how Louis imagined he would be. He smiles as he trails lower, licking a stripe down Lestat’s stomach. 

He scoots further down on the bed so his head lands between Lestat’s soft, pale thighs. He wastes no time planting a kiss to the tip of Lestat’s perfect cock, before taking it several inches into his mouth.

Lestat reaches down, gently caressing Louis’ cheek as he swallows him down. His hand ghosts over the back of Louis’ head and Louis nods, giving him permission to rest his hand there. Louis closes his eyes as he takes Lestat nearly down to the base, fighting off the urge to choke as all his senses become Lestat, Lestat, Lestat.

He groans as Louis works his talented tongue along the underside of the sensitive head, hand caressing Louis’ tight curls with a tenderness Louis’ never been given before. “Louis, I need you, baise-moi! Fuck me!”

Louis releases the suction on his cock with a lewd pop which makes them both laugh breathily. Lestat pulls him up for a kiss before feeling next to them for the discarded lube, pushing it into Louis’ palm with desperation.

Louis smirks at his eagerness, pulling back to sit up on his knees and take in the image of the gorgeous, desperate man beneath him. “Fuck, you’re like a painting. Your body is insane.” He runs a hand over Lestat’s abs, causing him to shiver as he gazes up, pupils blown so only a faint blue ring is left in his eyes.

“Louis… please, mon cher, need you.”

Louis uncaps the lube, squirting a generous amount onto his fingertips before he reaches between them, searching for Lestat’s opening.

Lestat furrows his brow slightly when he feels a slick finger teasing beneath his sack. “I must admit it has been some time since I have received. Be gentle.”

“I won’t hurt you, baby.” Louis kisses the inside of his thigh reassuringly. “I got you.”

He circles Lestat’s tight rim with a finger before pressing the tip past the pucker. Lestat sucks in a sharp breath as he visibly tries to relax, his eyes snapping shut. Louis slowly pushes through the ring, gently easing his middle finger all the way in.

“Louis….”, Lestat whines.

“You gotta relax more. You’re so fucking tight, Les. Should’ve worn that plug like you mentioned”, he teases.

Lestat reaches between them to slowly stroke himself to ease any discomfort. “Next time.” He pants as he works himself, beginning to loosen up around Louis’ prodding finger with the budding pleasure.

Louis slips his slick pointer finger inside the impossibly clenched muscle, reveling in the heat of Lestat, his tightness and the way he sucks Louis right in despite it.

Lestat releases a high moan as he grinds down onto Louis’ thick fingers, searching for the right angle, wordlessly begging for more.

Louis places his free hand on Lestat’s stomach to cease his movements. “Patience.” He slips in a third finger, positively stuffing Lestat.

“Putain!” His back arches.

“Are you okay?” Louis’ fingers pause.

Lestat nods, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Louis continues working his fingers in and out slowly, getting Lestat nice and loose, ready for his aching cock.

“You take it so well. So good for me. Such a good boy.”

Lestat throws his head back and cries out at the endearment, legs threatening to close as Louis brushes over his prostate teasingly.

“Louis!!! Do it now or I will not last!”

Louis chuckles, slipping his fingers out carefully. He spreads Lestat’s cheeks, admiring the gape for a moment. Lestat’s hole is rimmed perfectly pink, blushed now from the stretch, tightening around nothing, begging for Louis to fill it once again. Lestat whines, either from want or from feeling so exposed as Louis examines him. Possibly from both. 

Louis wipes his hand on one of their discarded t-shirts before he squeezes more lube along his length, pumping it gently to distribute the slick. He squirts some more over Lestat’s hole for good measure before he lines himself up, easing the tip just past the open rim.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

Lestat nods, his chest rising and falling quickly, thighs locked around Louis’ slim waist.

Louis presses deeper until he bottoms out, filling Lestat perfectly. He waits to move, allowing the blonde to adjust to the size.

“Wet enough, baby?”

Lestat nods again as a few tears dampen his cheeks. He wiggles his hips, encouraging Louis to start moving and tightens the grip of his thighs to draw Louis in deeper.

Louis takes the hint and pulls out slowly before slamming back in. He’ll never forget the image of Lestat’s eyes rolling back, that perfect mouth forming an “o” before he screams out in ecstasy.

They find the right rhythm, their bodies working in tandem as they meet in the middle, clinging to one another like they’re scared the other will drift away. Louis leans down, planting kisses along Lestat’s sweat slicked neck. He moves strands of Lestat’s golden hair out of the way, sucking a bruise below his ear which draws out one of the sexiest noises he’s ever heard come out of the man beneath him.

Lestat tightens around Louis’ cock, making his thrusts stutter. Louis takes the opportunity to reach between them and pump Lestat’s neglected cock in time with his thrusts as he finds the right rhythm once more.

“Oh, I’m so close, mon cœur, please!”

Louis kisses him hard, his hand working quickly between them, hips slamming against the back of Lestat’s thighs. His heavy balls make a wet slap against Lestat’s ass as he chases his own pleasure. He knew neither of them would last long.

Louis whispers against Lestat’s kiss-bruised, spit-slicked lips, “Come for me baby, I want to hear you.”

Lestat screams his name along with a slew of French words, clenching impossibly tight around Louis’ cock, kicking his own orgasm into gear.

They come together, kissing and grabbing each other anywhere they can reach. Lestat’s moans sound like he’s sobbing and Louis can’t even remember the last time he ever made this much noise in the apartment.

He swears as his hips stutter and he buries himself deep, filling Lestat, working his fist to capture every last drop of Lestat’s spend.

Their chorus of moans slow as their eyes meet, the electric current between them practically audible as their hearts pound in sync.

Louis pants, his comedown feeling like heaven as he plants lazy kisses over Lestat’s heaving chest.

The sound of Lestat sucking in a sharp breath causes Louis to pause and look up, where he sees tears streaming down Lestat’s face. He pulls out and is at Lestat’s side in an instant, gently wrapping an arm around him in worry.

“Did I hurt you?? Les, are you okay?”

Lestat opens his eyes and lets out a shaky laugh. “I am not sad… never have I been happier. My heart is so full.” He reaches up to gently cup Louis’ cheek, watery pale eyes tracing every inch of Louis’ concerned face.

“You’re not hurt?” Louis feels himself relax, only slightly, as he tries to imagine what would cause this reaction.

“Non, the opposite.” Lestat leans over to capture Louis’ lips with his own. It’s a delicate yet powerful kiss, causing Louis to feel dizzy with joy as he calms down further.

Lestat gazes into his eyes, searching them. “I love you, Louis. I do not need you to say anything in return. I know I scared you when I said this before, but I know this with all of my being.” He hides his face against Louis’ neck, finding safety there, deeply afraid of being rejected over his feelings. He lets out a content sigh, tears halting as he nuzzles against Louis’ skin with his nose.

Louis hugs him in response, planting a kiss near his ear. He allows himself to live in the moment and accept how Lestat feels. He doesn’t have to say it back yet. Hell, he’s only said it once to Armand when he was drunk after a huge fight where he was scared the man would leave him. He knows he has a lot to work on but the man in his arms makes him want to try. 

“I have not felt this way in quite some time. But, I should probably tell you something, Louis.”

Lestat sits up, scooting until his back hits the headboard. He holds his arm out, encouraging  Louis to scoot closer. He does, nervous about the impending confession. The whiplash of emotions is giving him a stomach ache.

”What is it, Les?” His brow is furrowed as he searches Lestat’s teary eyes. Lestat simply takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. 

Lestat sucks in a deep breath before the confession comes out. “I have a daughter.”

Chapter Text

Hoping his expression isn’t giving away any of the mixed feelings he’s attempting to rapidly process over Lestat’s confession, Louis chews the inside of his lip while regarding the blonde. On one hand, he’s relieved Lestat isn’t hiding a marriage, as hypocritical as that sounds, but a child? That’s… overwhelming. Louis hasn’t been around kids much and hasn’t entertained the idea of being a dad himself, especially not with Armand as a partner. The man put his foot down when Louis wanted a cat. Would Lestat even want him to step up as a parent? Is that what he’s asking? His mind races with a hundred questions that go unasked. Before he can manage to form a single coherent sentence, Lestat continues to speak, snapping him out of the downward spiral.

“She is my whole world. I’m sorry I kept her from you, but I am very protective of her, you must understand. She is too smart for her own good and loves so easily.” Lestat smiles, almost bitterly as he compares her to himself. “I don’t want her to get attached to someone just for them to not stick around.”

When he’s met with silence, Lestat squeezes Louis’ hand, searching his face for any kind of reaction or response, brows furrowed, his own anxiety bubbling as he tries to determine how Louis will react when he takes a moment to respond.

“How old is she?” Louis finally turns to meet Lestat’s gaze. His throat feels dry.

“She is six.”

“Is she why you can’t text all the time? You didn’t want to tell me you’re busy taking care of your daughter?” The question doesn’t come out bitterly, his tone is nothing more than curious, trying to fill in the blanks from the last few weeks.

Lestat looks down at their joined hands, ashamed over his dishonesty. “Yes. I didn’t wish to tell you and then have you block me, I’m sorry Louis. I hope you can forgive me.”

Louis gives Lestat’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t be sorry. That’s not a deal breaker. It’s a lot to take in, yeah, but I’m not upset with you. I get wanting to protect her and I think that’s sweet, actually. Thank you for trusting me.” A smile forms on his lips as he rubs the back of Lestat’s hand with his thumb.

Lestat visibly relaxes and wipes a few stray tears from his cheeks. “Do you want to meet her? I figured if this conversation went well, we could all get dinner while we are in town, if you are comfortable with that, of course.”

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.” Louis grins despite the worry over knowing he has to impress Lestat’s child or this won’t work out. What if she doesn’t like him?

“Do you have any questions about any of this?”

Louis hesitates, unsure how to politely approach the subject.

“Her mom?…”, he trails off.

Lestat sucks in a breath, his gaze focused straight ahead. “Ah, yes. I did mention wishing to talk to you about my loss in person. It’s difficult, please understand. Even after all these years, I struggle to speak of her.”

Louis sits up more, easing Lestat against his chest, hoping his touch will keep the blonde grounded and feeling safe. “It’s okay, it’s just us. You can cry or we can pause the conversation at any point.”

Lestat sniffles and Louis already feels wetness against his neck. He braces himself for whatever Lestat is about to share with him. Louis didn’t realize the man was such a crier, but he finds himself unbothered, the urge to take care of him and make him feel loved overbearing.

Once Lestat settles against Louis, moving to lay his head across thick thighs, he breaths in and out a few times, attempting to conjure the strength to re-tell the worst day of his life.

“I had a wife, back home in Paris. We met there when we were young, shortly after my mother abandoned me. I was working at a small, grubby theatre, and she came to watch me often, as she said. When she finally spoke to me, it took my breath away.”

Louis listens, filing away a few questions for later, trying not to feel jealousy over this woman Lestat clearly mourns.

“She was new to Paris too. We had such fun for a few years and then I got the courage to propose to her. I saved up and got her this awful little ring.” He sniffs as he makes hand gestures while he speaks. “She loved it.” Tears stream down his cheeks as he remembers how she fussed over the jewel encrusted ring.

When he doesn’t continue, Louis slowly runs his fingers through Lestat’s hair, gently urging him to carry on. “What happened to her?”

“She was a petite woman. She ended up pregnant and we were already struggling, but overjoyed to be a little family.”

His hand latches onto Louis’ calve, gripping it like a lifeline, his voice trembling as he continues. “One night, at the very end, her screams woke me. I had fallen asleep on the couch so I ran to her and there was blood- it was so much. I couldn’t do anything but call for help. They thought neither of them would make it, but my Claudia, she is so strong.” He manages to smile through the tears but his lip wobbles.

“Akasha died while holding her. She lost too much blood, but they were able to meet, if only for a few moments. She died while smiling. I got a taste of happiness before it was cruelly ripped away from me.” His voice shakes as he tightly shuts his eyes, willing the memories away. Louis continues stroking his hair, breathing out soothing words to him.

“I have a photo of them, minutes before we lost her. She turned so pale after and I thought she was perhaps tired or cold, but-“, his voice cracks and he breaks out into sobs against Louis, burying his face against his stomach.

Louis holds him, whispering,” I’m here. You’re okay. I got you.” His hand rubs slow circles down the blonde’s back and he wishes they weren’t still naked, it feels too intimate, almost inappropriate now.

It takes a while for Lestat to calm down and Louis feels wrung out. This has all been a lot to take in and he feels terrible Lestat went through something so tragic.

Louis breaks the silence they’ve drifted into, attempting to shift Lestat’s mood . “I’d still love to meet her. I’m sure she’s an awesome kid.”

“She really is.” Lestat sniffs and peers up at Louis. “Thank you, for being here.” He laces their fingers. “I have guarded my heart for many years, but with you it all comes naturally. I want you in my life, Louis. Our life, if you’ll have us.”

Louis nods as he leans down to kiss Lestat’s damp cheeks. “I want that too.”

As tempting as joining Lestat in the shower is, their stomachs let out twin growls. He offers some shampoo and conditioner he thinks will work for Lestat’s hair to tame the frizz from New Orleans’ brutal humidity before he leaves him, heading to the kitchen in a navy robe to prepare lunch.

He went grocery shopping yesterday and filled the fridge with real meat, cheeses and vegetables that he actually likes, unlike the ones Armand gravitates towards.

He starts seasoning some breading for shrimp, coats them, then drops them into the fryer while he prepares the halved French bread. He plans to give Lestat an authentic southern welcome meal.

The bread is loaded with fried shrimp, lettuce, tomatoes and remoulade, plated by the time Lestat emerges from the shower, sporting one of Louis’ black robes tied loosely around his hips, darkened blonde hair wet against his neck.

“I feel rejuvenated, merci.”

Louis’ back is turned to him as he asks, “beer, wine or water?”

“Wine, please.”

Louis turns, uncorking a nice bottle he picked up for the occasion, filling two stemmed glasses.

Lestat’s eyes get wide as he notices the plated food. “Oh what is this? It smells divine!”

“It’s called a po’boy. I think you’ll like it. It’s fried shrimp.” He holds out Tabasco and a locally made hot sauce. “I didn’t know how much spice you like so I didn’t add any to yours.”

He slides the plates and wine over the counter to the side with bar stools, then adds a generous slathering of the sauces to his own sandwich.

Lestat sits and Louis joins him, each taking a sip of wine. Lestat makes a pleased noise as he swallows and Louis can’t help but watch his throat, decorated with small water droplets from his hair.

“I think I will try it plain first. Do you recommend the sauce?” Lestat gestures to the Tabasco bottle.

“I do.” Louis laughs. “Maybe take a bite and see if you like the seasoning. I didn’t go too heavy this time. We’ll work you up to it”, he jokes.

Lestat brushes his damp hair behind his ears before he takes a bite. “Oh! Louis! This is incredible.”

Louis beams at the compliment and they enjoy a pleasant silence as they eat. The energy is intoxicating as they share glances and smiles between bites, their robed thighs brushing under the counter.

Once their plates are empty, Louis hops up to take care of the dishes and refill their wine. “Do you need to check on Claudia? Don’t let me keep you, though I’m not complaining.”

“Oh, not yet. She is with her babysitter. Speaking of, may I use a phone charger? I left the hotel with nothing but my phone which died right before we met up.”

“Ah. And yeah, here’s one.” Louis holds up the end of a white cable and Lestat quickly connects his phone while Louis finishes straightening up the kitchen. Lestat then busies himself by looking around, taking in the bits and pieces of Louis’ home that catch his eye. He clutches the wine glass as he looks through the library shelves in the living room.

“You weren’t joking about the books. You have quite the collection, chéri.” His eyes drift over rows and rows of books, mostly hardcovers and special editions lining the shelves.

Louis joins him and plops onto the couch, his robe opening a bit to reveal his upper thigh. “Yeah, I’ve actually read most of those. If you see anything you’d like to borrow, help yourself.”

Lestat turns to smile at him in thanks but gets distracted once his eyes drift lower to Louis’ exposed skin. His nostrils slightly flare, eyes darkening. “Louis.”

Louis cocks his head in question. Before he can speak, both their wine glasses are discarded on the coffee table and Lestat is straddling his lap, both their robes fully coming loose, exposed cocks meeting as Lestat holds his face, kissing along his jaw.

Louis can’t help but giggle, yes giggle, at Lestat’s enthusiasm. He can’t deny he feels the same, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s small waist before his hands travel lower to cup his plump cheeks underneath the robe.

Lestat moans against his neck, his eyes closed in ecstasy as if he’s already riding Louis’ cock.

“Mmm you make the hottest sounds, baby. Let me see if I can make you even louder.” Louis reaches between them to tease at the soft patch of hair above Lestat’s semi-hard cock.

Lestat whines, attempting to grind against the touch, craving more. Louis grips him, pumping slowly as all the blood in Lestat’s body seems to drain down to inflate his impressive erection.

“Want this in me.”, Louis pants against Lestat’s cheek.

Lestat kisses him, roaming hands finding their way to Louis nipples, already hard from the air conditioning, further pebbling under his touch. He breathes out desperately against Louis’ lips, “Get the lube.”

Louis rolls him off of his lap and quickly exits to the bedroom, returning moments later with the bottle, robe completely discarded now. He can’t remember the last time he walked around fully naked in the apartment. Feeling desired can change you.

Lestat lets his robe fall from his shoulders, leaning back on the couch, arms reaching for Louis as he pulls him into his lap.

He wastes no time taking the lube, coating his fingers and blindly reaching behind Louis, slicking over his hole teasingly. Louis grinds down against him, already aching with the need to be filled.

Louis leans forward, popping his ass out more against Lestat’s roaming fingers. He feels one slip inside and lets out a breathy moan, trying to lean into the pressure.

“So tight for me, mon amour. So good.”

Louis moans again as Lestat adds a second finger, easily opening him up with his skilled digits, Louis feeling no different than a piano as the blonde pushes sound after sound out of his mouth.

Once he’s grinding down on three fingers with need and pathetic whimpers, Lestat leaves him empty, only briefly before Louis feels himself be further stretched around the head of his fat cock.

“Oh fuck…. Ahh.. so good, so big, baby.”

Lestat breathes out shakily as he slowly pulls Louis down fully onto his lap, spearing him on his throbbing erection. His fingers grip the meat of Louis’ round ass, pulling him as close as possible before guiding him back up. Louis follows the lead, slowly working himself up and down before finding a good pace, bouncing on Lestat’s lap.

Lestat meets his thrusts, maintaining eye contact as long as he can before attacking Louis’ chest and neck with sloppy kisses.

“Fuck! Right there!” Louis crashes down against Lestat’s thighs, moans easily slipping from his lips as his prostate is pounded.

“Louis, you’re so beautiful, you take me so well.” He leaves a mark on Louis’ neck, nipping at the forming bruise before soothing it with a lick.

“Not gonna last if you keep doing that…”

He feels Lestat’s mischievous smile against his skin before the man sucks another hickey just below his ear, lapping at his skin before he sucks on Louis’ lobe.

Louis’ thrusts stutter and Lestat feels spurts of wetness paint his stomach. He quickens his pace, slamming up into Louis as he rides out his orgasm, needy moans filling the room.

Lestat chases his own high, having his lover come untouched between them pushing him over the edge into pure bliss. Louis’ hole tightens around him, pulling one of the best orgasms of his life from his core. He shakes beneath Louis, filling him with warm spend, hands roaming up and down his broad back as he murmurs affectionately in French against Louis’ neck.

Tears don’t follow this time, but Lestat can’t help looking at Louis with so much adoration it almost hurts. Louis leans down to hide his face against Lestat’s neck, neither of them moving to disconnect, even when Lestat grows soft inside him.

Louis plants kisses against Lestat’s skin and draws a gasp from the blonde as he sucks a payback hickey on his throat. He sits up to admire his work and smirks at how nicely Lestat’s pale skin bruises for him.

“Mon dieu, you vixen.” Lestat cranes his neck to capture Louis’ lips in a kiss.

Louis eventually slides off his lap and waddles into the bathroom before he stains the couch with Lestat’s come that threatens to leak out of him, pulling a chorus of giggles from the blonde.

He returns after cleaning himself up and checks his phone. “You have some texts, hun.” He see’s Lestat’s phone lighting up on the counter next to his.

“Can you bring it to me? I am too tired to get up,” he whines. Louis rolls his eyes fondly before returning to the couch with both their phones.

“Merci.” Lestat is now lying down and makes space for Louis who sits at the end of the couch and pulls the man’s legs into his lap.

He sees Lestat typing with a frown and turns his attention towards him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes and no. I have to return to the hotel for an hour or so. I’m needed.”

“Claudia?”

Lestat nods. “She was cranky on the way here and that mood has apparently struck once more. I should check on her and get her settled, but know that I will return if you’ll have me. I want to wake up with you in my arms.”

“Yes, that sounds perfect. I’ll pick a film for us to watch tonight?”

“Perfect.”

Lestat removes his legs from Louis’ lap and he already mourns their absence as the man gets up. He admires his perfect ass as he strides to the counter to plug his phone back in while he gets ready.

Louis can’t help but follow him to the bedroom, not wishing to lose a single second with him.

“Do you need anything? I think we actually might’ve stained your shirt, you can borrow one of mine.”

Lestat confirms it as he lifts up his lube-sticky t-shirt with a laugh.

Louis laughs too as he opens the closet and disappears to find something for Lestat to wear.

Lestat slides his pants and shoes on then graciously takes a white shirt from Louis. It’s a little tight over his arm muscles which makes Louis practically drool as he stares.

“You should keep that. Looks better on you.”

Lestat lifts the hem to his nose. “I doubt that, though it smells like you so I will take you up on the offer.”

Louis dresses in black shorts that show off his leg muscles and a light grey, short sleeve button down.

He follows Lestat back to the living room as he makes sure he has his phone, wallet and hotel key.

Lestat turns to him, looking regretful that he needs to leave. “I will let you know when I’m headed back over. Perhaps we could get a drink then? I wish to drink in the street.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah of course! I forget you can’t do that everywhere. I’ll take you to the best bars out here for the full experience.”

Lestat smiles, then leans in for a kiss, which quickly becomes heated. Louis is the first to pull away, softly laughing against Lestat’s hungry lips. “Go, so you can hurry back to me.”

Lestat almost whines but nods before stealing another kiss. “I will be back soon, love.”

Louis can’t help himself, crashing their lips together once more before he lets Lestat go, waving at him before retreating back inside.

He goes into the bedroom, straight to Lestat’s discarded shirt, finding a dry spot to sniff. He sighs, already missing him painfully, his scent lingering, making Louis’ heart ache.

He realizes he has no choice but to break things off with Armand. He’s in love with Lestat.

Chapter Text

Lestat sighs, a crying Claudia clutching him tightly, her slim arms around his neck like a vice grip. He wishes his attachment issues hadn’t been passed onto her, but here they are.

“Chérie, I stepped out for coffee. You were sleeping. You hate being woken up.”

“You were gone!!”, she wails.

“Bébé, shhhh.” He tries to rock her, but she won’t let go or stop sniffling, her curls tickling his chin from where she’s tucked against his neck.

He’s in his hotel room alone with her, giving Madeleine a well deserved break.
He feels a wave of frustration immediately followed by guilt for wishing he could go back to Louis. He has to put Claudia first, always.

Knowing he’s not helping her behavior, he offers, “Do you want to go get a treat? I’m sure we can find something to make you feel better.”

Her voice is muffled against him. “What kind of treat?”

He stifles a laugh at how quickly the tears stopped. “Whatever you wish for. If you let go, I can look up some dessert shops.”

She releases her grip and sinks down on the bed. He grabs his phone and starts to search for some options, her wet eyes watching his thumbs dance over the screen. He leans down to plant a kiss on her head and she sniffles.

“I want chocolate.”

“Chocolate what?”

“Hmm…” She looks down in thought. “Croissant!”

“Oh, that sounds quite good, doesn’t it?” He quickly types in and locates several spots where they can enjoy some pastries nearby.

“Which shoes do you wish to wear?” He gets up and she follows, scrambling to her suitcase on the bench in front of the bed.

She pulls out a pair of tiny, hot pink high tops and holds them up expectantly for Lestat to help her.

He kneels as he assists her, slipping them on. “We need to work on this, ma petite. You need to be able to tie them yourself.”

“It’s hard! And you do it so much better, Papa.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes as he ties her shoes, knowing she has him wrapped around her finger.

“Shall we?” She takes his hand and they head towards a pastry shop Lestat mapped out.

It’s still early in the day so the streets aren’t quite chaotic yet, though he does keep a grip on Claudia’s hand.

Inside the shop, her eyes go wide as she peers into the pastry case that’s taller than she is, well stocked with fresh, flakey treats.

“Tell the lady what you’d like, Claudia.” He looks from the cashier to her expectantly. She always gets annoyed when he orders for her, but then gets shy when she’s expected to do it herself.

She points to a chocolate croissant topped with chocolate curls and tugs on his thumb, silently requesting him to order for her. He stifles a laugh as he orders pastries for them plus some extras to take to Christine, Madeleine and Louis.

She eyes the extra bags on their table. “Why’d you get so many, Papa? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t you think the girls would like some treats aussi? Madeleine surely deserves it.”

She simply nods as she digs into her croissant, unaware that he’s referring to her earlier tantrum.

“I wanted to talk to you about something…” He hesitates, unsure of how to broach this topic.

They’ve never had to talk about the idea of a new person coming around, someone Lestat would share his love with. Claudia doesn’t even ask about Akasha, seemingly content with Lestat being the only parent in her life. 

“Huh?” She looks over, chocolate smeared on her face.

He mocks her playfully, “Huh??”, as he reaches over with a napkin to clean her face, his accent dropping the “h”, getting a giggle out of Claudia.

“How would you feel about meeting a new friend soon? He’s become very important to me and I want your opinion of him.” Please like him goes unspoken.

“Can I do his makeup? Like yours?”

Lestat laughs, louder than he should, which causes a few heads to turn as he imagines Claudia convincing Louis to let her give him a makeover complete with glitter and tiny pink bows in his hair. “You’ll have to ask him.”

She brightens. “Okay!! When?”

“How does tomorrow sound? But, I need you to be good tonight while I’m away. Can you do that? No tears and no being a brat for Maddy?”

She nods, her curls bobbing. “Yay!!! What’s his name?”

“Louis.” Lestat smiles at the name dripping off his own tongue so sweetly, before he pulls his phone out, snapping a quick photo of Claudia, somehow already covered in chocolate again, grinning back at him as she poses for the camera.

He sends the photo to Louis with the caption “My little terror is excited to meet you. 😘 “

They finish up, Lestat having to give her face and hands a full wipe down in the bathroom before they leave with the to-go bags.

Lestat offers up all but one pastry bag as a peace offering to Madeleine, asking if she could share them if she sees Christine. She agrees, suspiciously eyeing him, specifically the giant hickey on the side of his neck his hair is doing a poor job of hiding. She says nothing while he makes sure Claudia is content, his iPad clutched in her hands as she locks in on an episode of Bluey.

“Text or call if you need me, either of you. Claudia, I’ll pick you up for lunch tomorrow, okay?”

She ignores him, engrossed in the cartoon.

“Claudia de Lioncourt, I am speaking to you.” There’s no real heat in his voice but it does annoy him when she ignores him.

She finally looks up, eyes narrowing in challenge, as if he would punish her before she responds in a sweet voice, “Sorry Papa. What did you say?”

“Not funny. I said I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Text me if you need me, I won’t be far. Je t’aime, ma petite.” He bends to kiss her on the cheek. “Behave for Madeleine.”

”Je t’aime, Papa.”

He gives her one last look before heading out. He always gets emotional when she speaks French back to him. He slips his sunglasses on to conceal the beginnings of tears and messages Louis as he walks in the direction of his apartment.

Louis still hasn’t responded to any of his messages by the time he arrives, thankfully able to retrace his steps to Louis’ door on his own. He knocks and then notices a ring camera. “Loooouis, I have returned!”, he sings into the camera, moving his sunglasses on top of his head. “Loulou, you promised me a fun evening.” 

He hears shuffling inside before Louis yanks the door open, curls wet against his scalp, in dark jeans and a v-neck salmon shirt.

“I just got out of the shower, sorry! I didn’t think you’d be so quick. What’s that?” He motions to the small bag in Lestat’s hand as he steps aside to let him in.

Lestat presents it to him. “Un croissant for my sweet man.” He leans in for a kiss which Louis happily returns.

“I got your photo by the way. Claudia is really cute. She looks like you, you know.”

Lestat brightens. “I have been told that, though of course she favors her mother. I spoke to her and she is excited to meet you tomorrow.”

“I’m excited too. A little nervous as well, I just want to make a good first impression.”

Lestat settles onto the couch, already making himself at home. “She will love you, Louis. I promise. You’re easy to love.”

“If you say so… I’ll be right back, let me dry my hair and then we can go. What are you in the mood for atmosphere wise? If you want something fancy, I’ll change.”

“Casual is fine. I haven’t changed since this afternoon, chéri.” He gestures to his wrinkled pants and Louis’ shirt he’s still wearing.

“You look good no matter what.” Louis disappears into one of the bathrooms, taking time to perfect his hair.

He ends up changing into slacks but keeps the v-neck, adding a short chain around his neck.

He returns to find Lestat where he left him on the couch, head tossed back into the cushions, haven fallen asleep.

He doesn’t wish to disturb him so he perches in the nearby chair, scrolling on his phone as Lestat softly snores, clearly getting no rest over the last few days. Louis realizes Lestat is probably exhausted not only from traveling and the demands from his career, but also from being a single dad.

“Louis?” Lestat realizes he’s alone, neck slightly stiff from the position he slept in as he looks around the apartment. The sun has set, the only light source a dim lamp on the other side of the room.

“Lou?”

Lestat searches the apartment until he spots Louis in the spare bedroom, napping peacefully himself. Lestat kicks off his boots, crawling into bed with him. Louis fell asleep on top of the covers, so Lestat wraps his arm over his slim waist, nuzzling against his neck.

“Chéri… we fell asleep.” He plants a kiss on Louis’ neck, causing him to stir a bit.

Lestat continues kissing his neck, over the hickey he left earlier which bruised a dark purple against Louis’ light brown skin. His nose tickles Louis, who turns over with a frown, away from him. “Stop…”, he sleepily groans.

“Louis, I’m bored. Take me out drinking! I’m yours for the night.”

Louis cracks open his eyes and rolls back over to look at Lestat in surprise. “Oh, Les! Fuck, I must’ve fallen asleep. I didn’t want to wake you, but I guess I needed a nap too.”

“Now we are well rested for tonight”, Lestat purrs.

“Oh Louis, this one is quite good.” Lestat looks ridiculous, sipping a curly straw that’s absurdly long, clutching a fish bowl filled with a neon blue cocktail in one hand, lit cigarette in the other. Louis can’t help himself, slipping his phone out to take a photo. Lestat poses, sticking out his tongue which is stained blue from the drink.

They walk around Bourbon Street, stopping at every bar that catches Lestat’s eye. He insists on getting “just one drink” at each, even when Louis suggests better establishments.

Louis is pleasantly tipsy after their fifth stop and has been forcing Lestat to down bottles of water with him in between drinks so they don’t feel like death later, especially since Lestat seems to go for the sugary cocktails.

Louis gives in when Lestat orders a hurricane, a tourist favorite - a mix of various shots combined with fruit juices, served in a large bucket topped with cherries and orange slices.

“You are going to throw up later and I’m not cleaning it up.” Louis snatches the bucket, taking a few large gulps himself.

Lestat suddenly bursts into tears, causing Louis to spit out his last sip in surprise. “Les???”

Lestat holds up his hands, turning away from Louis. “I’m okay!” He laughs through tears.

Louis sets the drink down and goes to him, pulling him into his arms. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Lestat tries to escape his embrace. “You-you care about me! You don’t want me to get sick. This is perfect and you are perfect, mon Saint.” He manages to wiggle out of Louis’ grasp, dropping to his knees. Louis attempts to guide him off the filthy ground, worried he’s about to try to suck him off in public, but the blonde bends down further, in worship to Louis, who busts out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous! Get off the dirty ground!” He yanks Lestat up, drawing a yelp out of him. Louis drags him down the street, back towards his apartment.

“You’re cut off. I’m ordering us takeout and we are watching that movie. You’re going to drink a lot of water.” He tries to hide the fondness in his voice.

Lestat starts giggling, stumbling slightly as they briskly walk.

After several glasses of water, Lestat is feeling much more sober. Louis made him change into some clean pajamas he provided as soon as they got home, threatening to burn his pants that had touched the street as he stashed them in the dirty hamper.

Cuddled up on the couch with too many boxes of Thai food for just the two of them, Tales of Terror starring Vincent Price plays on the tv.

The first story where the man loses his wife when his daughter was a newborn makes Lestat cry, but he insists they continue watching. He pushes through, with Louis apologizing frequently, having no idea about the potential triggers the old film would have.

During the Black Cat sequence, Louis tenses when the husband takes revenge on the cheating pair by poisoning them and stashing them in the walls of the cellar. He hasn’t seen this movie before but chose it knowing Lestat enjoys old suspenseful films and mentioned once in passing that he enjoys Edgar Allen Poe.

“Not fond of horror are you?” Lestat teases as he pulls Louis closer, assuming his unease is simply from the tone of the film paired with the mild violence.

Louis shakes his head as they watch the rest of the film in silence, his thoughts racing around Armand. How is he supposed to confess what he’s done? Maybe he could move out before Armand even has time to step on a plane back to America. He wouldn’t say he’s scared of Armand, but they have had some pretty rough and upsetting fights over the years where Armand’s mask slips and he becomes unbelievably cruel. There was even an incident where neighbors called the cops once.

Louis notices Lestat’s eyes drooping when he glances over so he quietly puts away the leftovers and turns the tv off, guiding them into the main bedroom which Louis never sleeps in, but the bed is larger and much comfier. Louis gets in on the side Armand usually claims, cuddling against Lestat, their legs intertwined.

“I’m sorry the movie was a bust.”

“Non, chéri. I enjoyed it, truly. I look forward to more movie nights with you.”

“You have to choose next time. Nothing too dark though.”

“But Louis, my favorite films are quite dark! I will work you up to some of my favorites.”

“You let Claudia watch that kind of stuff?”

“Some of it, ouais, though she gets bored quite easily.”

Louis laughs. “Well, you two will have to watch something more chill with me sometimes.”

“Oh yes, you can suffer through all the children’s films Claudia drags me to.”

“I don’t think I’d mind, but I bet you cry during them.”

Lestat gasps exaggeratedly. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

“I’ll pack the tissues.”

Lestat rolls his eyes fondly, giving Louis a squeeze as he holds him.

“You are an excellent guide by the way, perhaps we can visit more places tomorrow after you meet Claudia?”

Louis agrees and it takes no time for them both to nod off, wrapped around each other.

Something warm and hard is pressing against Louis’ ass. He turns his neck slightly to see Lestat whose arm is wrapped around his waist, morning wood slowly grinding against him through thin pajamas.

He leans into the touch, waking up stiff himself. He pulls Lestat’s hand down to cup his bulge and Lestat mumbles sleepily as he squeezes.

Louis lets out a moan, guiding Lestat’s hand under the waistband of his pajamas so Lestat’s fingers can wrap around his length. Lestat gives a soft tug, pressing himself against Louis’ backside with more urgency.

Louis quickly rolls over to face him, planting kisses over his sleepy, pouty lips. Lestat grins and opens his eyes, scooting so their cocks meet in the middle through fabric.

He frees his own cock swiftly, then tugs the waistband of Louis’ pajamas down. Lestat is already leaking as he takes them both in his large hand, stroking them together. 

Louis lets out a gasp as their slicked skin is tugged, thick cocks sliding against each other between Lestat’s warm palm. He can’t remember the last time he had morning sex, much less sex two days in a row.

”I won’t last long, Les.”

”And you’re confident I will? You have no idea the effect you have on me, Louis.” 

Their hungry lips meet as Lestat works them both quicker, reveling in the feeling of Louis throbbing against him. His hips stutter as he spills first, moaning into Louis’ mouth. His eyes roll back and the sound becomes wetter between them as he keeps stroking Louis, using his own come as lube. 

His voice is silky as he purrs, “Come for me, chéri.”

A few more strokes and Louis is shouting his name, gripping his bicep as his orgasm overtakes him. 

Lestat’s hand is coated in both their spend so he brings it up to his mouth, licking it clean.

Louis can only stare, pupils blown, as Lestat sucks on his own finger.

”I could’ve gotten you a towel, Jesus, Lestat.”

The blonde’s lips curl up as Louis watches, ever the showman. 

“Mmm good morning.” He props his head up on his arm so he can properly gaze at Louis in the morning light peaking through the sheer, white curtains, lips glistening with their come.

“Morning yourself, handsome.” Louis grins, turning to him, kissing him softly. “I had planned to wake you up with breakfast in bed.”

“I think I prefer this, mon amour.”

His cellphone ringing turns his attention towards where it lays on the side table, Armand’s name flashing on the screen.

“I gotta take this. Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.” Louis jumps out of bed and flees the room with his phone and Lestat hears the front door open and close shortly after his prompt exit.

His voice is neutral, so much so that it turns Louis’ stomach. “Louis. Happy Anniversary. Did I wake you?”

He steps out onto the small porch just outside their front door where a black chair and matching table sit. He takes a seat, crossing one leg over the other, barefoot in his rush to get out of Lestat’s earshot.

“No, I‘ve been up for a minute”, he lies. “What time is it there?”

“Just around eight in the evening. Have you opened your gift?”

“No, sorry I’ve been busy with work”, he lies again.

“Ah. Well I do hope you enjoy it. I regret being so far from you on such a special day.”

Louis wishes he had a cigarette, feeling around on the table behind the potted plants even though he knows he won’t find anything. He hasn’t smoked in a few years anyway, but now the scent reminds him of Lestat.

“Yeah.”

“How are you faring? You sound sleepy.”

“Yeah, I stayed up late. You know me.”

“I’m surprised you’re up before noon then.”

“I had to pee. How are things there?”

Armand hums. “Oh, fine. You know how these things go. I ate at a rather fascinating restaurant last night though. They served deconstructed dishes paired with aged wines named after feelings. Isn’t that odd?”

Louis lets a laugh puff out of his nose. “Was it any good?”

“No, but the view was incredible.” He hears Armand sigh. “Well I won’t keep you, have a pleasant rest of your day, darling.”

“You too.”

“Oh and Louis?”

Louis hums in question.

“Tell your blonde friend your husband says hello. I didn’t see him leave last night or this morning.”

Louis almost drops his phone, his eyes growing wide in horror as he slowly turns, making eye contact with the ring camera pointed right at him. It slipped his mind that Armand has notifications on for it. Fuck.

“Armand, wait-“ The screen brightens, noting the call has ended.

Louis stands outside for several more minutes, looking down at the street as people make their way into shops and restaurants below him. Sighing, he doubts the jump would kill him, most likely leaving him paralyzed or with a brain injury.

He slides back inside, avoiding the gaze of the camera. He takes a deep breath, trying to push everything down for now. He can deal with it later. Armand didn’t say he was coming home. He doesn’t even have proof that anything has happened beyond seeing Lestat come into the house twice in one day.

He just wants to spend the day with Lestat and meet Claudia and not think about Armand. He can enjoy this week and figure it all out after Lestat goes home.

He unplugs the camera once he closes the door, then walks down the hall.

Lestat is sitting up in bed, the covers spread over his lap, bare chest glowing where the light hits it. He looks up from his phone when Louis comes back in, smile wilting. “Hey, is everything okay?” He genuinely looks worried and Louis curses himself, figuring he must look shaken.

“Yeah, sorry. A friend called with some drama, you know how it goes.”

“Ah, yes. Well I hope everything is okay. You seem stressed, chéri.”

“I’m okay, just hungry. You wanna grab food?”

“Oh yes! We can pick up Claudia? If you are still okay with meeting her?”

“Yeah of course.”

Chapter Text

They walk beside each other, hands slotted together comfortably as they make their way back to Lestat’s hotel. Louis pushes his anxiety down over the phone call with Armand, convincing himself he doesn’t know anything and plans to call back when Lestat isn’t around so they can talk things through. Everything.

Louis let Lestat borrow clothes again, dressing him in a grey, sleeveless, worn band tee that is slightly cropped on Lestat’s longer torso and a pair of snug, dark blue jeans. He smirks as he eyes the blonde, feeling domestic and bubbly at the sight of him in his clothes. The sliver of Lestat’s stomach showing makes Louis’ brain short circuit.

Lestat meets his gaze, smiling as he squeezes Louis’ hand, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Do you think she’ll like me?”

“I have no doubt she will love you, chéri.”

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive, Louis’ anxiety increasing as they cross the threshold into the grand lobby, chandeliers illuminating their path to the elevator.

As if he senses Louis’ nervousness, Lestat wraps his arm around Louis’ narrow waist, crowding him in the elevator as he plants small kisses along his exposed neck. Louis leans into the affection, moaning softly, the touch helping ease his worries. Lestat’s fingers caress the curls at Louis’ nape, sending a pleasant chill down his spine.

“Mmm as good as that feels, maybe don’t get me worked up before I meet your kid.”

Lestat laughs loudly as he pulls away. “You’re right.” He re-clasps their hands as the elevator doors open and they step out onto the third floor. “I’ll be patient.”

Lestat stops in front of the second door they pass, giving a soft knock before a mousy woman opens it, ginger curls untamed on her head likely due to the humidity. She curiously eyes them, specifically their joined hands and the matching hickeys across their necks.

She speaks in French to Lestat and Louis feels slightly awkward, wondering who this woman is and what they’re saying.

Lestat is incredibly attractive as he responds to her in his native tongue and whatever he says has her stepping aside for him to enter the room. He tugs Louis along with him who feels like he’s intruding and hopes Lestat isn’t sharing a hotel room with this French woman.

He spots a little girl sitting on one of the beds, her hair pulled back with two red bows on each side of her head, brown curls framing her face. She plays with a doll sporting similar hair to hers.

The girl notices their presence and her eyes light up as she jumps up and into Lestat’s arms. “Papa! I missed you!”

“Désolé, ma petite, I was out retrieving someone special. Would you like to meet him?”

She nods excitedly as she immediately focus in on Louis who is lingering behind Lestat. He steps closer, giving a small wave.

“Hey, I’m Louis. You must be Claudia.”

She giggles and waves back, tucking herself against her father’s chest as her shyness overwhelms her. Lestat rubs her back, scooping her up into his arms to sit against his hip. She seems small for her age, but then again Lestat is quite muscular with long limbs.

“Don’t be shy, say hello to Louis. You wanted to meet him, remember?”

“Yes… hi Louis.” She turns her attention back to Lestat, throwing her head back dramatically and Lestat’s bicep flexes as he holds onto her so she doesn’t fall. “I’m hungry!!”

“We should find you something to eat before you become a true terror, then.”

Louis finds himself grinning at them and could see himself getting wrapped around her little finger. They look a lot alike, skin tone aside. She has his smile, mirrors certain mannerisms and her big brown eyes seem to be the key to unlocking anything she wants, just like his blue ones.

They make their way to a restaurant after Louis gave them some suggestions and Claudia chose the one that sounded the most exciting to her. She sits across from Louis, next to Lestat, happily kicking her legs as they look over the menu.

“What do you recommend, Louis?”

“The gumbo is really good here, but if you want something to cool you down, I’d say the catfish is my favorite.”

“Let us get both and share? I must try everything you recommend, Lou.”

Louis smiles. “Sounds good.” He turns his attention to Claudia. “What would you like, Claudia?”

She concentrates on the kid’s menu, her dark eyebrows furrowed. She leans closer to Lestat, pointing to one of the items before looking up at Louis as if she answered his question herself.

“Such a mature palette”, Lestat jokes. “She seems to want the chicken fingers to the surprise of no one.” He leans in to plant a kiss to the side of her head. She giggles, clearly eating up the attention despite her shyness around a new person.

A waitress takes their order and retrieves the menus, leaving them with water and a coloring page for Claudia.

Lestat addresses Claudia. “I’d like to talk with you about something, d’accord?”

He reaches across the table and gently takes Louis’ hand. Claudia’s eyes snap to their joined hands curiously, pausing her crayon’s scribbles. She’s never seen Lestat show affection to anyone but her.

“Louis has become very special to me and that’s why I wanted you to meet him. He makes me happy and I hope you could also be happy with him being in our lives. What do you think?”

“I like his hair. It’s like mine.”

Louis grins. “Your hair is really pretty. Did your dad do it?”

She looks at him, like she’s sizing him up for a moment before she returns the smile. “Yes, Papa does my hair and I do his!! Are you going to be my new mommy?”

Louis coughs, looking to Lestat for help. He barks a laugh in response.

Lestat doesn’t correct her. “Perhaps one day, but that’s not something to be rushed, chérie.”

“Is he going to move in with us? I’m not sharing my room.” Lestat laughs again and it’s loud and glorious.

“Not right now, not unless he wants to. He would be sharing my room, don’t worry.” Lestat shoots Louis a look, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Okay, good.”

She addresses Louis again, her tone as serious as a six year old’s can be. “Do you like dogs?”

“Do you have a dog?” He glances at Lestat who is observing both of them.

“Non.” Lestat shakes his head.

He returns his attention back to Claudia. “I like dogs, I’m not allergic or anything.”

Claudia grins. “Okay you can stay and we can get a dog!”

Lestat squeezes Louis’ hand, and Louis returns the gesture, finding himself content to be here with both of them. He was afraid it would be awkward or that Claudia wouldn’t like him, but she keeps looking over at him and giggling as she draws. He dares to meet Lestat’s gaze and the man may as well have hearts in his eyes with the way he looks back at Louis.

Claudia taps on Lestat’s arm and motions for him to lean in. She whispers something in his ear and he brightens, eyes snapping back towards Louis.

“You can ask him yourself, enough with the shy act.”

She looks across the table at Louis with big eyes, clearly nervous but excited to have his attention.

“Um..” she looks down. “Can you help me color?”

“Oh! Yeah, what do you need help with?”

She points to the outline of a crawfish on her paper. “What color is this supposed to be?”

He turns to Lestat in confusion for a moment before he responds. “Red is fine. You’ve never had crawfish?”

She shakes her head.

“Lestat, you’ve been depriving this girl of good food!”

Lestat laughs. “I can assure you, I have not, she’s simply incredibly picky. Although I must admit I have not had her try southern food such as this.” He taps on the drawing with one finger.

She yanks the paper out from under his finger, affronted that he would dare touch her drawing. She grabs a red crayon and starts to fill in the crawfish with little squiggles.

Louis leans forward to get a better look. “That’s looking real good. We’ll have to let you try it sometime. I can show both of you some new foods I think you’ll like.”

She beams at the praise, excited at the promise of trying new dishes per his suggestion. Lestat wears a similar smile as he watches Louis with her.

Their food comes and Lestat helps Claudia tuck a napkin into the top of her shirt. She wastes no time digging into her fries, dunking them in ketchup, totally unbothered by her father and Louis making eyes at each other next to her.

Louis is pleased by how enthusiastic Lestat is about the food they share, reaching across the table to feed him a bite of catfish. His eyes light up as he chews and Claudia looks over at their plate. “Papa, I want to try!”

“Of course, but don’t spit it out if you don’t like it, that is rude.”

She sighs exaggeratedly. “I won’t!”

He gives her a small bite, which she clearly enjoys, her eyebrows shooting up as she chews.

“She’s never had catfish either? Les, that’s awful.”

“Yeah, awful!” Claudia mimics back.

“Oh no, now there are two of you to boss me around.” He sighs and Claudia mimics him, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair to the side as he often does with his own. Louis could cry over how cute they are.

He tries not to imagine their future, the three of them in each other’s lives, waking up to make breakfast for Lestat and Claudia, helping her with her homework, he and Lestat picking out rings…

Back at the hotel, Lestat opens the door to his own room which Louis is relieved to find out is separate to from the woman from earlier.

Claudia runs over to a bag to pull out some toys, leaving the men to sit in the two chairs by the window.

“So that French woman-“

“Madeleine, oui.”

“Who?….” Louis isn’t sure how to ask and doesn’t want to see possessive.

“Ah! She is Claudia’s nanny. She lives with us and accompanies us on travels so that Claudia can still see me when I am on the road. She helps her with her French, which is awful thus far, and makes sure she gets to school, that sort of thing.” He waves his wrist.

“Oh, okay. How does that work, her living with you?”

Lestat laughs, Louis’ jealousy obvious with his questioning.

“Louis, relax. I am not interested in her. Nor is she interested in me. She does not like men, chéri.”

Louis nods in understanding, his jaw relaxing. Since when was he the jealous type? He’s often wondered if Armand cheats on his stretches away from home, but finds that he couldn’t care less.

“And at home, she has a wing of the apartment to herself, complete with a kitchen and en suite. My bedroom and music room is on the opposite side of the home and most of the time, she is making herself scarce.”

“I also meant to ask, are you bi?”

Lestat smirks. “I suppose you could use that term. I do not have interest in such labels. I have the capacity to be with who I like, regardless of such trivial things.”

“When it comes to us, what do you want? Like, what’s your goal?”

Lestat brushes his foot against Louis’. “My goal is to be with you if you’ll have me. I wish for this to continue.” He drops his voice low. “Especially what we did this morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making Louis playfully kick at him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

Louis can’t help but grin. “I’m excited to hear you play tomorrow. Do you have to rehearse beforehand?”

“In the afternoon, oui. But I am all yours until then.”

“Do you maybe want to sleep over tonight? I understand if that’s not really possible with Claudia, but she’s welcome too.”

“I appreciate the offer but she can stay with Madeleine. I will gladly stay with you tonight. I savor our alone time.” He winks.

“Putain! Louis! Right there, don’t stop!”, he whines.

Lestat’s cheek is pushed into the couch cushion, ass in the air as Louis slams against his hips from behind, one hand on his waist to keep him up, the other buried in his messy, golden locks, tugging firmly.

Lestat is loud, his moans bouncing off the walls of the living room as Louis is the conductor of his pleasure.

The couch creaks and dips slightly beneath them in a way that should be concerning if Louis wasn’t focused on being buried seven inches inside Lestat at the moment.

Lestat arches his back more as he meets Louis’ thrusts. Louis releases his hair to grab his ass cheeks, spreading them further apart so he can watch himself disappear inside the stretched, pink ring.

With another brutal thrust, Lestat almost collapses, digging his fingers into the couch as he’s pounded.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I love this.” Louis squeezes his ass before smacking one cheek, receiving a pleasant gasp followed by a high moan from Lestat. Louis soothes the pink mark it left before spanking him again.

“Je t’aime, Louis, je t’aime”, he practically whines as Louis bruises his cheeks with a combination of his hand and the desperate snap of his hips. Lestat can’t wait for the sting of sitting on his stiff piano bench, a reminder of this exact moment.

Louis leans down, dragging kisses along Lestat’s spine as he reaches under him, gripping his neglected, leaking cock.

Lestat cries out, bucking into Louis’ hand, impaling himself further on Louis’ swollen cock.

“Louis…”, he says in warning.

Louis hears his breath hitch, his hole impossibly tight as it squeezes around his cock. Lestat shakes as he comes undone, painting the teal fabric below them along with Louis’ fist.

Louis isn’t far behind, a few off rhythm thrusts to go and he’s filling Lestat’s clenching hole, his cheek against Lestat’s back as his weight shifts and he cries out. He kisses along Lestat’s sweat lined skin, murmuring sweet praises.

He lays against Lestat, urging his hips down so they’re flat on the couch. It creaks again in warning before sending them tumbling to the ground, busted leg sticking out to the side.

They burst out laughing and Louis buries his face against the side of Lestat’s hair.

“Louis! Your poor couch!”

“I… I didn’t think that would happen!”, Louis can’t help but laugh harder at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“At least it was kind enough to let us finish.”

He carefully gets up and pulls Lestat up with him, checking him over to make sure he’s okay. Lestat smiles, so smitten, putty in Louis’ hands.

“Let’s get cleaned up, you’re leaking onto the floor, babe.”

Lestat looks down and sees a trail of wetness dripping down his thigh. He grabs Louis’ wrist, guiding his hand behind him, urging two fingers inside to plug himself up. Louis searches for his prostate, fucking against it with slick fingertips. Lestat’s knees almost buckle as he pushes back against the electric touch.

It takes another half hour before they stumble into the shower.

“It’s going to be pretty loud tonight so we should stay in. I’ll cook for you if you want? I got some steaks and vegetables to roast.”

“Why will it be loud tonight, mon cher? Aside from us seeing what other pieces of your furniture we can break.”

Louis laughs, so pleased with the company of the man before him. He feels whole for the first time in his life. For years, he’s thought he must not know how to love properly because it’s never enough for anyone so what’s the point in opening himself up to be hurt in the end? He never fit inside the mold that’s expected of him and it’s a guilt he carries. He wasn’t enough for Paul, for his mother and Grace, or even for Armand. He knows his husband isn’t happy and hasn’t been for a long time, but the way Lestat looks at him, the way he’s finally being seen after all these years, is slowly healing that trauma. Maybe he can be himself and be loved in return.

“Well, it’s 4th of July. And I don’t celebrate so I figure we could just enjoy each other instead of dealing with being out in the city tonight. If you really want to see fireworks, the balcony has a good view.”

“Since moving to Los Angeles, I have only taken Claudia to see the fireworks, otherwise it’s simply another noisy few weeks of living in a big city.” He shrugs. “You are the only thing I desire to gaze upon, mon cher.”

Louis reaches out for him and Lestat grasps his hand. They sit side by side in the living room chairs, among the chaos from before. They’ll have to haul the broken couch to the curb at some point, but that can wait until tomorrow.

“I can’t find my wallet, Lou.”

“Did you check your pants in the dirty hamper?”

“Ah, no.” He pads into the bedroom and searches around before locating the bin. He digs through, coming across his pants but his wallet isn’t there. “Merde.”

Louis pops his head in. “No luck?”

“Non. I had it yesterday! Maybe I left it at the hotel. Ah, I guess I don’t need it for the performance.”

“I’ll look around while you’re at rehearsal. If I find it, I’ll bring it tonight. I’m sure it’ll turn up, honey.”

Lestat brightens at the pet name. Louis pushes loose strands of hair behind Lestat’s ears and plants a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Don’t worry. It’s somewhere around here.”

Lestat moves to kiss his lips softly, not daring to start another round when he’s already late.

“D’accord. Meet me tonight? You received your ticket, yes?”

“Yeah, it’s in my email. I’ll see you soon.” Louis kisses him once more, hesitating to let him go.

Louis fidgets in his seat, straightening his tie with one hand, the other clutching a bouquet of crimson roses. Lestat reserved him a pricy seat no doubt, with an incredible view of the stage, particularly the grand piano.

The orchestra has been playing for a while and Louis figures Lestat will come out for a solo before joining in. As if on cue, he spots the blonde, hair tied back neatly, wearing an immaculate black, pinstriped suit. He sits at the bench and Louis notices him shifting his weight for a moment before settling. His cock threatens to stir at the implication of Lestat still being sore.

His breath catches as the music begins once more, this time with slim fingers dancing over the keys of the piano. Lestat’s shoulders hunch as the music grows quicker and he reaches the crescendo. He draws it out before his fingers slow back into a steady melody with horns now joining him.

Louis isn’t surprised to find his own eyes wet at the end of the song. He balances the bouquet in his lap and claps, so proud and enamored.

Lestat stays on stage for the remainder of the performances, steadily playing, looking ethereal under the stage lights as he glides over the keys.

With a final note, the venue erupts into applause and the musicians stand, taking their bow. Lestat sends a wink to Louis who wears a huge grin and attempts to wink back.

No one stops him as he makes his way backstage. He finds Lestat crouched down, speaking with Claudia, the French woman and another woman with brown hair at his side. The women eye him, Madeleine with curiosity and Christine with a frown as Claudia gasps and runs to him, latching onto his leg. “Louis!!!”

He smiles down at her. “Hey, did you like watching your dad tonight?”

She nods. “I guess. It was long! He said I can get ice cream now.”

Louis laughs and gazes over at Lestat who is now standing back up, moving towards him. They stare at one another, the world forgotten beyond their shared gaze.

Lestat finally breaks the hypnotic silence. “Are those for me?”

Louis’ eyes widen as he realizes they are around other people and he hasn’t even given Lestat the roses yet.

“Yes! Yeah, they are.” He passes Lestat the bouquet. Lestat smells them as he grins at Louis with half lidded eyes.

“Alright boys, are we making those reservations tonight? It’s already getting late”, Christine cuts in.

“Oh! Louis, this is my manager, Christine.”
She doesn’t move to shake his hand, so he simply nods in acknowledgment towards her.

She looks between them then stares at Lestat. “Don’t forget we’re leaving in two days.”

Louis heart clenches, even though he knew Lestat’s visit wasn’t going to be very long.

“Yes, I am aware.” Lestat’s voice is sharp.

He cradles the roses as he turns back to Louis but speaks to Christine. “We won’t be joining you tonight.”

Madeleine takes the hint and grasps Claudia’s hand, quietly trying to distract her and the inevitable tantrum that awaits. The women leave them and Lestat finally asks, “What did you think?”

Louis’ breath is shaky as he responds. “You were incredible. Truly, I could listen to you play all night.”

Lestat can’t help himself, leaning in for a kiss. He softly holds Louis’ cheek as their lips meet.

Louis breathes out against his soft lips, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

After they stop at an intimate Italian restaurant for a bite, they return to Louis’ apartment and settle into bed with glasses of wine to celebrate Lestat’s performance.

“Did you hear the cellist? She could not stop missing her cues.”

“Lestat! I didn’t realize how catty you are”, Louis jokes.

“I’m sorry, Louis but this isn’t a primary school band rehearsal.” Lestat rolls his eyes as he recounts each wrong note.

Louis watches him fondly, sipping wine as the blonde goes through a mental list of complaints, recounting all the things that apparently went wrong during the performance, which becomes especially hard to follow when he starts going off in French.

“You’re gonna pop a blood vessel if you keep it up, brat”

Lestat narrows his eyes at Louis before he he playfully jumps on him, causing their wines to slosh and spill all over the surrounding sheets.

“Lestat!”

He settles on Louis’ lap, heavy and warm. “If I’m such a brat, punish me”, he dares.

Louis wouldn’t dare use any of Armand’s toys on Lestat, but a ball gag they bought and never used? It’s too perfect to shut Lestat up with. He looks down at the blonde, his brown hands splayed over his chest for leverage as he rides him. His thrusts are slow, punishing, as he sinks down, splitting himself open on that thick, pink cock. Lestat is moaning and drooling around a red ball locked around his perfect lips, fastened behind his head with soft leather.

Louis’ short nails leave faint red marks down Lestat’s chest, causing him to buck up, attempting to deepen himself further into Louis’ tightness. Louis sits up on his knees, leaving only the leaking tip inside his hole.

“What did I say? Be still and maybe I’ll let you come in me.”

Lestat whines as Louis slowly sinks back down. He feels Lestat’s hips shaking beneath him as he fights to remain still under Louis.

“Good boy”, he drawls as he leans forward to plant a kiss next to Lestat’s open lips. He licks at a patch of drool which makes Lestat’s light eyes roll back in his head.

Louis starts riding him in earnest, chasing his own pleasure as he angles so his prostate is pounded each time he comes down. “Mmm baby, so good for me.”

Lestat simply nods, his eyes shutting as he wills himself not to come.

“Look at me.” Lestat’s eyes snap open at the command, silently pleading with Louis who can surely tell how close he is by his throbbing thickness alone.

“I know. I know. Just wait, almost..” Louis strokes himself as he rides, coming down hard on Lestat as he spills over his own fist with a groan. “Les… oh Lestat.”

Lestat has tears rolling down his cheeks, his entire body shaking with the urge to release.

Louis pants, sinking back down onto his cock, wiggling his hips. “Fill me up, baby.”

That’s all the permission Lestat needs to grab Louis’ hips and thrust up into him, his orgasm shooting through him like a canon. His screams are muffled around the ball gag as he paints Louis’ insides.

“Oh fuck, yeah. So good for me.” Louis reaches down to unhook the gag, slowly lifting it off Lestat’s mouth.

The blonde rubs at his jaw, removing some drool. “Putain, you’re trying to kill me, Lou.”

Louis grins, then hops off Lestat’s lap to fetch a towel. “Someone has to keep you in check, mon cher.”

Lestat’s jaw drops at the usage of the French endearment. “Loooouis! Come back to me!”, he whines.

“I think I’m gonna shower actually, I’m sticky. Feel free to grab something from the fridge if you’re hungry!” Louis pops out of the en suite to toss Lestat a damp wash cloth before shutting the door.

Lestat hears the shower turn on, so he cleans up, throws pajama bottoms on and makes his way into the kitchen.

He opens Louis’ stainless steel fridge and searches for a snack, coming across some fancy cheeses and dried meats. He manages to locate a cutting board and knife, dicing the cheese into cubes and arranging them neatly alongside the meat on the board. He digs through a few cabinets until he comes across crackers and cashews, adding those to the spread as well. He sits at the kitchen counter, picking at the food before he remembers he still needs to find his wallet, especially before his flight in a few days.

He curses under his breath as he hunts in the living room, crouching down to look through the destruction of the broken couch, the cushions, the chairs, even the little bowl at the entry with Louis’ own wallet and keys.

He moves onto the bedroom, tossing the comforter up, hoping it simply got trapped in bed. When nothing lands on the floor, he begins looking on every surface in the room; the dresser, the night stands and even the hamper once more. He wonders if Louis might’ve slipped it into a drawer on accident one of the times he was straightening up.

Lestat opens both nightstands, finding nothing aside from lube, extra chargers and small paperback novels. He moves on and hesitates for a moment before he opens the top drawer of the dresser. He sees an array of neatly folded ties along with an envelope, “My Love” written across the front neatly. Lestat smiles as he picks it up. He didn’t take Louis for a cursive guy nor an “I have wax seals” guy but the romantic gesture warms his heart. First flowers and now a card? This must be for after Lestat’s second performance.

He can’t help himself, breaking the wax seal with his thumb. He slides the card out and his brow furrows in confusion. “Happy Anniversary” is inscribed in gold along with matching flourishes.

His breath catches as he opens the card and sees a plane ticket, immediately realizing the card isn’t for him nor from Louis.

Louis,

Over a decade ago I looked into your gorgeous eyes and knew I had to have you. I apologize for my unexpected departure but rest assured I will make it up to you. Please find the ticket enclosed in this letter for you to come see me. I wanted to wait to tell you the good news in person, but I bought us a condo in Dubai and would like for you to join me to see it for yourself.

Happy Anniversary, my love.
Yours,
-xx Armand

Lestat’s whole body is shaking as tears fall, dripping onto the letter and ticket. He drops the card, chest heaving. It feels like the room is spinning as he reaches for something to stabilize himself. He desperately searches for his clothes and manages to slip on his white button down from his earlier performance over the pajama bottoms he borrowed. He grabs his shoes and bolts as he hears the shower turn off, running out into the night as fireworks light up the sky.

Chapter Text

Twenty missed calls. Eight voicemails. A dozen texts. Even a few Instagram messages. They all go unanswered as Lestat weeps into his hands in the porcelain safety of his hotel’s bathtub.

He can hardly catch his breath, his chest aching with the dagger of betrayal. He’s married. He doesn’t love me. That’s why he never said it back.

He reaches for the bottle he brought with him, tipping it to his lips as he feels the amber liquid burn his throat with a shaky swallow. Half the bottle is drained and he plans to make the rest disappear shortly, anything to numb his racing thoughts.

Another wave of tears comes, causing him to cough. His throat is dry from the whiskey and his head is pounding from the pressure of how hard he’s been crying.

His phone continues to buzz on the counter and he couldn’t care less. He’ll have to block Louis once he has the motivation to stand, much less finally scrub off the remaining touches from him.

He absentmindedly runs his fingers along his thigh, over a small bruise where Louis had grabbed him while they made love. He lets out a scream of frustration as he slams his fist over the bruise again and again, He doesn’t care if the whole hotel hears him.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door and his head snaps towards the sound. “What.” He hopes his voice doesn’t sound as pathetic as it feels.

“Lestat, are you decent?”

He brings his legs up to his chest and hugs them. “Sure.”

Christine opens the door, her spare keycard in hand, explaining how she let herself into his room in the first place.

She averts her eyes. “You said you were decent!”

“You can’t see anything, calm down.”

She continues to keep her gaze up towards the ceiling. “There’s a man in the lobby asking for you. He managed to get through to my room’s line. It’s the one from earlier, Louis.”

Lestat bursts out crying again at the mention of his name and she finally looks at him and takes in the half empty bottle, the reddness of his thigh, his tear streaked, puffy face.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Get out.”

“Lestat…”

“Get out! Tell him to fuck off!”, he screams at her, his voice slicing through the room like a guillotine.

She backs out and shuts the door, harder than was necessary and he hears the main door slam too.

He holds himself tightly, crying, wishing he never came to this city where the sinners are painted to appear as saints.

He finishes off the whiskey bottle and thankfully drains the tub before he passes out, slouched against the cold tile wall.

A towel is being draped over him and he’s being lifted. His eyes crack open and he focuses in on Christine and Madeleine dragging him to his feet.

“Putain, I am getting a raise.”

“Me too.”

He tries to make sense of what’s happening and then gets a look at himself in the mirror. His hair dried against one cheek and the other side is flat from sleeping against the tile. His face is swollen from crying and he’s red and blotchy from being in the damp tub all night. He’s sore inside and out and wants to crawl back into the tub and stay there until he dies of starvation.

“Lestat, put clothes on. You’re late for rehearsal, again.” Christine shoves a pressed suit into his hands.

“Your daughter is fine by the way”, Madeline spits as she leaves the room.

A fresh wave of tears starts and Christine grasps his shoulders. “Lestat. You have to get ready. Tie your hair up and put on sunglasses. Whatever happened between you and this… fling, get over it. The show quite literally must go on, understood?”

He knows she’s mainly worried about her own paycheck, but he nods, his bottom lip wobbling. She smacks his arm lightheartedly. “Good. Meet me in the lobby in five.” She exits the bathroom, leaving him to get ready.

As much as he hates to admit it, he wishes he had pills or something else to wash the heartbreak down. He isn’t sure he’ll be able to play tonight sober, a strict rule the orchestra has in place.

He blew up at the conductor. He should feel bad, but he doesn’t. He’s perched on his piano bench, eyes like daggers around the room as his colleagues avoid eye contact with him.

Christine grabs his arm as soon as he exits the rehearsal room. “You need to snap out of it now, Lioncourt.” Her American pronunciation of his surname always aggravates him.

“Or what, they’ll fire me?” He fires back as he digs through his pocket for a cigarette.

“That’s exactly what they can do and you’ll lose the rest of the tour’s pay which is closer to seven figures this time. Not to mention your sponsors dropping out if you make a fool of yourself tonight.”

He yanks his arm free and straightens his suit jacket. “Yes, well we will have to see then, won’t we?” He hates how his eyes fill with tears, watering down any bite he hoped to convey with his words.

She sighs and softens her face. “Look, I know you never put yourself out there and it clearly seems like something went wrong and you got hurt, but you need to pull it together. The tour is only for a few more months and then we can all go home. Sound good?”

His lip wobbles as he turns from her. “Yeah.”

She pats his back. “Good. Clean yourself up before tonight.” She leaves him, her heels loudly clicking along the hardwood as she goes.

He sniffs and rubs his eyes with the back of his pointer fingers, willing himself to be strong. He turns on his heel, making his way out into the street where a car is waiting for him. He lights his cigarette with a shaky hand.

“Take me to a bar.”

“Which one?” The driver meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. If the smoke bothers him, he doesn’t comment.

“I do not know, something less crowded.”

Lestat’s hair curtains his face as he nurses a drink, having pulled out his hair tie on the ride to the bar. It’s frizzy and knotted on one side, but his looks are not a priority right now. He’s grateful for the alcohol in his system and the air conditioning running in the building.

“Another?” The bartender cautiously eyes him, wondering if she should even continue to serve him. He pushes his hair behind his ears and straightens up in his seat.

“S’il te plaît. Something stronger this time.”

She nods as she begins pulling a top shelf bottle down and her gaze flashes back to him. He looks familiar but she can’t quite place where she’s seen him.

“You doing okay, Monsieur?”

He sighs and then chokes out a bitter laugh. “Not really.”

“Oh?” She slides a glass over, filled with rum, a sphere of ice and a small orange peel spiral.

He nods and downs the drink in one swallow as if it were a shot, causing the bartender’s eyes to widen a bit before she cools her expression.

He regards her before continuing. She has a kind face and he feels like he can trust her for some reason. Her light brown skin is flawless and her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She has a nose ring and is wearing all black, which he figures must be some sort of uniform since the other bartender is dressed the same.

“I got cheated on.”

Her face softens in sympathy, leaning over the bar towards him. “Someone cheated on you? What an idiot.”

“What a kind thing to say. I suppose I was actually the mistress in this situation, unbeknownst to me.”

She bites the inside of her cheek and suddenly remembers where she knows him from. Louis. She makes a mental note to kick his ass for causing this beautiful man pain.

“Oh sweetie, that’s rough.” She pours him a pint of water and slides it over. “It’ll help”, she urges when he doesn’t make a move to grab it.

He hesitantly takes a sip. “You know, I told him I loved him before we even met? I know I can be a lot but…”, he trails off.

Her brow furrows as she listens.

“I said it again in person. A few times actually and he said nothing. Not even “thank you Lestat”. And how could he say it back? When he’s married to someone else? I’m just the pretty face who gets summoned when things are dry in the martial bed.” He chokes out a loud sob, causing the other bartender to look over in concern but Lily shakes her head at him to let him know she’s got it under control.

She reaches over the counter and gently takes Lestat’s trembling hand. “Hey, you absolutely don’t deserve that. You seem like a sweet man. Have you talked to this guy at all since he told you he was married?”

Lestat shakes his head, blonde stands coming loose from where they had been previously tucked. “Non, and he did not tell me. I found a card, an anniversary card from the husband who clearly has no idea! They’ve been together a decade. That’s older than my daughter!”

Lily quirks an eyebrow, not realizing Lestat even had a child. This is all very interesting.

“What happened after you found out?”

“I left. He was in the shower and I… I just ran.” Another tear stains his cheek. “May I please have another drink?”

She hesitates for a moment before making him one, lessening her usual heavy handed pour.

“Last one, sorry. You need more water.” She motions to his glass and he takes the hint, gulping down half before he picks up the cocktail glass.

“I think you should talk to him. Maybe he didn’t tell you he was married for a reason. Maybe his husband is crazy and it’s a stockholm syndrome case and he’s too afraid to be on his own again and step into the unknown. Just a thought.” She shrugs, hoping that’s vague enough to not reveal her friendship with Louis.

“I- you think so? He still should’ve told me.”

She nods. “Yes he should’ve. He’s an asshole for keeping that from you. And you can do what you want, but maybe just hear him out if he calls you?”

He looks down at his glass, twirling it between his fingers. “Maybe.”

“You’ve got this. No more tears.”

She taps the bar before walking over to her coworker for a brief word, then disappears into the back with her phone in hand, angrily typing.

Louis didn’t end up coming. Lestat stares a hole into the empty seat, willing himself to focus on his parts. Even through heartbreak and one too many drinks, he plays immaculately. The audience is smitten before the final note falls, applause filling the venue. He barely takes the time to bow with his colleagues before he’s sprinting backstage, hugging the nearest trash can as he tries to throw up. He hasn’t eaten today so nothing but liquid comes up, the pain of his insides betraying him.

He finds the girls in his dressing room and Claudia excitedly runs to him. “Papa!! I missed you!” He picks her up and holds her against his aching chest. “Where’s Louis? I want to give him a sticker!”

Lestat tenses and the women look at him, worried how he will react. Christine clearly filled Madeleine in on what she knows.

“Take her.” He sets Claudia down, to her dismay, and she pouts. Madeleine grasps her hand gently, guiding her away.

“I need you to take her back to Los Angeles. I can’t deal with her right now.”

“But Monsieur-“

“Do it.”

“Papa!!” Claudia tries to go to him, but Madeleine holds her back. He feels tears stinging his eyes, but he knows it’s best for her to be far away while he self destructs. He hasn’t spiraled like this since she was born.

“Ma petite, I will be home very soon but until then, you must be good for Madeleine. Please, do this for me.” His voice cracks and it makes her eyes water too. She sniffs and reaches for him again.

He goes to her, kneeling as he hugs her tightly. “Je t’aime. Be good.” He kisses her cheek before standing.

Claudia is crying loudly now as Madeleine tries to soothe her. He turns to Christine. “Get them first class tickets home tonight. I’m going out.”

He ignores whatever she’s saying to him as he walks out, dropping his blazer as he leaves.

Lestat is thankful most bars take Apple Pay since his wallet was never found.

He pays for shot after shot, reveling in the burn down his throat. His empty stomach protests, but he drowns it out with another swig of rum.

“Is this seat taken?” He turns to regard a slim, well dressed man. His posh accent reveals he’s British, dark skin practically glowing under the twinkling bar lights. He’s dressed too warm for the weather but then again so is Lestat, both in long sleeve button downs, vests and slacks, though the stranger’s shirt is olive green.

“Be my guest.”

“Ah, français?”

“Ouais, tu le parles?”

The man nods before leaning forward to get the bartender’s attention, ordering them both absinthe. Lestat’s eyes move over his long torso as he crowds into his space.

“Oh, I shouldn-“

“You must, it’s very good here”, the man insists.

The bartender sets the glasses up with sugar cubes and water slowly drips into the green liquid, melting the sugar over the top.

The man passes Lestat a glass and clinks his against it. “Santé!”

The French cheers pulls a small smile from Lestat. “Santé.”

He takes a sip, surprised by how smooth and sweet it is.

“See, I told you it’s good”, the man teases as Lestat continues to drink.

He hums in approval.

“What brings you to a dive bar at..” He checks the Apple Watch wrapped around his slim wrist. “Barely nine o’clock, dressed much too nice for a place like this?”

“I performed tonight. I’m a pianist. And I was politely kicked out of a nicer establishment.”

The man chuckles at that. “You do have lovely, long fingers.” His eyes flick down in appraisal. “Did the show go poorly?”

“Non, it went well. I’m simply having a rough day.”

“I could say the same.” The man lets out a soft sigh. “I just got off a very long flight and I’m exhausted.”

“What are you doing at a dive bar then?”

“I do not wish to be home.”

“Ah.”

“Where is home for you?”

Lestat turns to face the man. “Right now, Los Angeles. I do not truly feel at home there, I don’t feel at home anywhere.” He shrugs.

“I know the feeling. I’ve lived all over and never quite found somewhere that could keep me.”

“Yes, exactly. It all gets boring.”

“It does, doesn’t it.” He uses two slim fingers to motion to the bartender, requesting another round. “We shouldn’t suffer alone. Don’t you agree?”

Lestat finds himself nodding, despite wishing to be left to his misery.

“So, you surely have a partner. Are they traveling with you as well?”, the man inquires, his silky, black curls bobbing slightly as he speaks.

Lestat shakes his head. “I’m widowed. And you?”

The man looks into his glass for a moment, hesitating briefly before he speaks. “I’m sorry for your loss. I am in my divorce era, as they say.”

Lestat isn’t sure if it’s the spirits or the company, but he finds himself laughing.

They’ve moved to the back of the bar, in a quiet corner booth so they can hear each other better over the music and other patrons. The man returns to their table with another round of drinks.

Lestat thanks him and sips his with just as much desperation as the previous rounds, unaware of the substance the stranger mixed into his drink on the way back to their seats.

By the time the glass is empty, Lestat’s head is spinning. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion around him. His nerves are aflame as he stares down at his hands.

“How many languages do you speak? Your English is remarkable.” Lestat regards the man, having forgotten he was there for a moment in his haze.

“Three, but my Italian is not so good”, he manages to reply.

“You look Italian. Half?”

Lestat can barely manage a nod.

“Is it true what they say?” The man’s eyes are intense and Lestat finds himself wishing to escape the harsh gaze. He feels as though he’s being judged for something he isn’t aware of.

“Hmm?” Lestat’s eyes are half lidded and he leans back in his seat, body failing to stay upright on its own.

Suddenly, he feels the warm weight of the man’s hand on his thigh, inching its way up to cup his groin. “Ah, it seems to be true after all. An impressive size, even flaccid.”

Lestat is frozen, looking towards the man as he’s fondled under the table.

“Stop.” His voice feels small, his mind trying to catch up as he processes what’s happening. It feels wrong but he can’t will himself to get up and leave, overcome with dizziness and nausea.

The man‘s hand remains on him, appraising him through his slacks. Lestat is soft and trembles when the man squeezes him through the fabric, scooting closer, looming over him. He goes for the zipper as he leans in, warm breath against Lestat’s neck as he kisses him there. The softness is a harsh contrast to what the man’s hand is currently doing.

“Please…” A tear falls down Lestat’s cheek.

The bartender walks by, grabbing empty glasses off tables, causing the man to retract his hand.

“Well, I must be off. Pleasure meeting you.” The man stands and makes his way to the front of the bar, disappearing into the crowd.

Lestat watches him go, silent tears streaming down his face as he struggles to stand, grasping the wall as he finds his way to the bathroom.

He pulls out his phone and opens his recent call log, clicking on the latest one as he slides to the floor. It rings for a moment before he hears the line connect. “Christine… help”, he slurs.

“Lestat?” Louis’ voice is filled with concern at the tone of Lestat’s and with the way he’s having trouble speaking. “Where are you?”

Lestat doesn’t even register who he’s called. “Absinthe… bar?” It comes out as a question, causing Louis’ anxiety to spike at just how much Lestat must’ve had to drink.

“Fuck okay, stay there, I’ll come to you.”

The call disconnects as Lestat leans heavily against the graffiti-clad wall before passing out.

Chapter Text

Louis’ heart is racing as he rushes out of his apartment once the call drops, barely taking the time to slip his sneakers on.

Lestat sounded so out of it, which fair. Louis is familiar with trying to find salvation at the bottom of a rocks glass, but the part that bothers him is how scared and small he sounded. He seemed barely conscious which is concerning if he’s out alone at a bar in the city. Louis’ mind unkindly runs through all the hypotheticals, like Lestat getting robbed or taken somewhere and harmed.

He starts with bars closest to Lestat’s hotel on Royal, frantically searching everywhere he can think of that specializes in absinthe cocktails, though in a city like New Orleans, that list is extensive.

By some miracle, in the fifth establishment Louis finds him, face down in the men’s room, phone discarded next to his pale, limp hand where it slipped from his grasp when he collapsed after the call.

Louis kneels down onto the discolored tile, shaking Lestat’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him. “Les… c’mon let’s get out of here, get you cleaned up.”

Panic rises when he doesn’t react, causing Louis to yell out the open door to the bartender for help.

Shaky hands ease Lestat up into a seated position against his own body, supporting his neck as his heavy head lolls to one side, curtained by blonde hair. He’s unresponsive, drool trailing down his chin, hair matted, clinging to his damp face. Louis is thankful he can feel Lestat’s chest slowly rising and falling, though his unconscious state makes the ball of anxiety tighten in Louis’ chest.

He isn’t sure if Lestat got black out drunk or if he took something stronger, the thought flipping his stomach as he clutches Lestat in his arms, whispering reassurances into golden strands, mostly to calm himself.

The bartender must’ve called an ambulance because soon, a stretcher rolling in along with two paramedics interrupts Louis’ thoughts and he nearly refuses to let Lestat be taken from his arms as they hoist him up.

“He’s my husband”, slips from his lips so they’ll let him ride along. He clutches Lestat’s hand the entire journey in the ambulance, chewing the inside of his lip in worry until he tastes blood. He won’t allow himself to cry, not yet. Not until he knows how Lestat is doing.

Lestat is taken to be seen immediately, low blood pressure a cause for concern, leaving Louis to fumble through paperwork he doesn’t have the answers to. He does his best before returning the clipboard to the nurse’s station.

He makes his way to the room Lestat’s been taken to where he finds him now wearing a white and green gown with an IV stuck into the bend of his arm, still unresponsive.

A nurse is checking his vitals as Louis nervously paces the length of the room.

“We’re doing a toxicology report, but if you know what he took, please let us know. It’ll make this a lot quicker.”

“I wasn’t with him, I don’t know.” Louis tries to hide his anger at her assumption that Lestat did this on purpose, his lips drawn tight. He hadn’t, had he?

When the nurse leaves the room, Louis scoots a chair against the bed, reaching out to grasp Lestat’s hand. “I love you. I’m so fucking sorry. Please be okay, baby.” He lets the tears he’s been holding back fall freely now.

Lestat opens his eyes, disoriented. Where am I? He looks down and notices a thin blanket draped over the lower half of his body with an IV stuck in his arm, which sends a surge of nausea through him. Needles freak him out, so he tries to breathe through it. A machine beeping distracts him momentarily, his eyes taking in the small room, landing on a sleeping figure hunched over in the chair next to his bed. Lestat would recognize his soft, brown coils anywhere and it causes his vision to swim with tears.

His voice cracks, worried his eyes are betraying him. Maybe he’s imagining things because how would he be here?

“Louis?”

Louis’ head shoots up and he’s practically crawling into the bed, dark bags prevalent under his emerald eyes from stress and lack of proper sleep.

“Oh my god, how are you feeling?” Louis hesitates to reach out and touch Lestat, unsure if he’ll be met with rejection.

Lestat’s mask of anger slips back on and he looks ahead at the wall, expression neutral as he tries not to cry, his eyes filling with tears anyway.

“I’ve been better. Why are you here?”, he snaps. He wants to ask why he’s here but that can wait.

Louis’ brow furrows. “You called me. You sounded really off, barely there. I searched for you for an hour and finally found you in the bathroom of a bar, unconscious. Do you remember what happened last night?” His voice is soft and reassuring, like asking a child something you already know the answer to.

Lestat tries to remember and immediately regrets it as flashes from last night come back to him. Sending Claudia away, trying to drink down his sorrow, the man, his wandering hand…

Louis does crawl into bed with him this time once Lestat begins silently crying. “Baby, it’s ok. I got you.” He wraps an arm around Lestat’s shoulder, guiding him against his chest.

“The doctor came in while you were asleep… I um, I said I was your spouse so they’d let me stay.”

When Lestat says nothing he continues.

“They said you were extremely dehydrated and your blood alcohol level was off the charts… they also found um, GHB in your system…said that’s usually used to spike drinks. Did you- you didn’t take anything on purpose did you?”

Lestat’s bottom lip trembles as he slowly shakes his head against Louis’ chest.

“Oh honey.” Louis finds his hand and squeezes. “Did something happen? Do you remember?”

Lestat nods this time and turns away from Louis, not wishing to recount it right now. Louis doesn’t push, he simply holds him.

A nurse brings a tray of food and Louis wastes no time helping Lestat eat. He’s still feeling out of it and dizzy so he allows the help, even as it feels humiliating. His stomach aches from not eating the entire day before and the bland hospital food barely does anything to ease that pain, if anything furthering his nausea.

Louis breaks the silence they’ve fallen into. “I need to apologize to you, Les. I lied to you and you deserve so much better than that. I just… I’ve been so stuck. I got married really young and I haven’t been happy, not for a long time. He’s not the kind of person I enjoy being around, he has a really ugly side to him so I’ve tried to keep things neutral for years, for my own sanity. We’re more roommates than anything but still, it was wrong of me. As soon as you left and I figured out that you saw the card, I called him and left a voicemail. I told him I never loved him and never could, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that it was all fine. A boring marriage is better than being alone, I once thought. But now I know what love actually feels like.”

Lestat can’t help but cry at the admission, still angry but the mask is cracking. “Louis…”

“I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I know I fucked up and you don’t have to forgive me but I need you to know how much you mean to me. I’ll do anything for another chance, even if you only allow me to talk to you and be in your life sometimes. I’ve never felt like this, so connected to someone else. I love you, Lestat.”

Lestat bursts into a fit of tears for what feels like the hundredth time this morning.

Louis holds him and Lestat lets him, weeping against his shirt.

He runs a hand through Lestat’s unruly waves and presses a soft kiss to the side of his head. “I love you so much, Les. I’m sick with it.”

Between sobs, Lestat replies, “I love you too. So much, Louis. It hurts how much I love you, but…”

“But?”

Lestat sits up a bit, wincing as his stiff body complies. “You lied to me. I let you meet my daughter! I… I don’t know what I want right now.”

Louis deflates next to him and gently releases him, giving him some space. To his surprise, Lestat leans back in, searching for his touch. He places a hesitant hand back around his waist, scared any sudden move will be the final nail on the coffin of their relationship.

Once Lestat is discharged that evening, Louis calls them a car back to his hotel. He doesn’t ask if Lestat wants the company, he can’t tear himself away, so worried something else will happen if he leaves.

“You go lay down, I’m going to talk to your manager.”

Lestat looks like he wants to protest, but Louis has his key card and unlocks the door for him, urging him to go inside with a nod.

Louis remains in the hallway, assuming the third room must be hers so he knocks and is met with the frown of none other than Christine.

“Have you heard from him?” Her tone is controlled but her eyes give away her worry.

“Yes, and I need to talk to you. I don’t know when his next performance is or where it is, but he needs a break. He just got out of the hospital. Someone spiked his drink last night. I know you don’t know me, but I care about him. He needs some time.” His tone leaves little room for an argument.

She regards him, running over Lestat’s schedule in her head. She finally sighs, tucking a long strand of brown hair behind her ear and her demeanor softens. “I’ll see what I can do. He has eight more cities over the next two months, but you’re right. He needs a break. Is he…” She hesitates. “…alright?”

Louis frowns. “Physically I think so, I’m going to stay and look after him. It’s not my place to say but I think something happened to him at a bar last night. He hasn’t told me yet, but he shouldn’t be alone.”

She seems to process what Louis’ implying. “Best I can do is cancel Tennessee and two Midwest dates. He has to show up to the late August ones. And heads up, he’s going to want to fly home sooner rather than later to see Claudia.”

He nods and thanks her, turning to go check on Lestat.

He finds him curled up on the bed under the plush, white blanket, eyes on the tv across the room playing some daytime nonsense.

Louis sits next to him on the opposite side. “You need anything?”

Lestat shakes his head slowly, blue eyes landing on Louis. “Thank you… for finding me.”

“I’d do anything for you. I hope you know that.” His hand reaches for Lestat’s who grasps it, pulling Louis to lay in bed with him. Louis stays on top of the comforter, wrapping his arm around Lestat as they lay there.

“Christine says you aren’t needed until the show at the end of August.”

Lestat puffs out a small laugh. “You truly have a way about you to get her to cancel shows. She once made me perform with the flu. I was vomiting between songs backstage.”

Louis makes a face at the mental image of that. “I think the break will be good for you. You can go home for a while.” He doesn’t want to ask if Lestat wants him to join him but Lestat hears the unspoken question all the same.

“I haven’t forgiven you, you know. I love you and appreciate you, but my heart is broken. I want to keep talking to you…. But I need space.”

Louis starts to sit up and Lestat tugs him back down with a dramatic sigh. “Not right now… maybe we can revisit things after the tour ends. I need stability and honesty if you’re going to be around Claudia, I hope you understand, Louis.”

Louis swallows down the sadness of rejection and nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Lestat stays checked into the hotel with Louis for four days.

They aren’t intimate, and Louis tries to insist on sleeping on the couch in the lounge the first night but Lestat practically pulls him into bed with a sleepy, accented grumble, wishing to be the little spoon as they cuddle. He allows Louis to kiss his cheeks when he softly asks, but turns away when he tries to plant one on his lips.

Louis cares for him, picking up food and returning with little souvenirs he missed out on shopping for himself. “For Claudia”, he insists. Of course.

They fight on the second day. It’s more Lestat yelling at Louis and Louis taking it because what else can he do? He fucked up and he knows it. Lestat did nothing but love him and Louis broke his heart with a colossal lie. The yelling ends in ugly sobbing and Louis holding him, rocking him as he pretends to fight the affection. “I was ready to ask you to move in with me, Louis! You’ve ruined everything!”

“I know.” Louis plants a kiss to Lestat’s forehead, keeping his lips there.

Lestat’s voice is low. “I do not know if I want to fuck you or throw you through the wall.”

Louis sighs, drained, as he repeats himself. “I know.”

On the third day, Lestat ends up telling him what happened at the bar the night Louis found him. Louis holds him as he cries, holding back his own tears of anger over the thought of someone planning to hurt Lestat. When he describes the stranger, Louis feels sick, his mind immediately conjuring the image of Armand. But he’s in Dubai.

Louis realizes they’ve both been neglecting their personal hygiene, too busy wrapped up in sadness and trauma, so he decides to prepares a bath for Lestat. He guides him into the tub, where he sinks down, bubbles coating his chin. Blue eyes stare at Louis intensely, watching as he moves to grab Lestat’s shampoo from where he’s kneeling outside the tub.

“This okay?”

Lestat nods and allows himself to relax under Louis’ touch as he gently rubs product through golden strands, lathering it as his fingers massage Lestat’s scalp.

The bathroom is filled with a citrusy rose scent from the shampoo. Louis tries to commit the scent to memory.

“I’m scared, Louis.”

Louis’ hands pause. “Of me?”

Lestat shakes his head, drops of soap and water flying off him like a dog drying itself. “Non, never. Of… being home. Alone.”

Louis eases Lestat’s head back and begins to rinse his hair. “Oh. Well isn’t Claudia there? And her nanny?”

His voice is tight when he speaks. “You know what I mean.”

Louis hums in acknowledgment, hoping Lestat will continue speaking. They are both fragile right now and Louis spends every waking second hoping Lestat will change his mind- will forgive him and still desire him.

The blonde sighs. “I don’t want to be without you, Lou.”

Louis closes his eyes, trying to muster the strength to keep it together because this isn’t about him, it’s about making things right with the man before him. “Is there anything I can do?”

A tear rolls down Lestat’s cheek. “I don’t know.”

Louis rides with Lestat to the airport at the end of the fourth day. Lestat turns to him, hugging him, his body begging him to never let go. He plants a soft kiss to Louis’ lips, a silent promise that this is only a pause. Louis melts under his touch. He had been craving a kiss for days now and finally being honored with one, even as a goodbye, is heaven.

On the trip back to his apartment in the back of an Uber, Louis has tears in his eyes, his heart now boarding a plane to Los Angeles.

The first sign is that the deadbolt is locked. Louis’ hand slightly shakes as he switches keys to unlock the top lock.

He creeps inside and is met with the sound of a knife hitting a wooden board in even chops, as if dinner is being prepared on a regular evening.

“Oh… you’re home early.”

The chopping ceases and the brunette turns to regard Louis with cold eyes.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

Oh, it’s the real Armand tonight.

“Armand, I meant what I said in the voicemail. I want a divorce. We can at least do this amicably.” Louis walks further into the apartment, wary of the sharp knife in Armand’s hand.

He sees Louis eyeing it and drops it onto the cutting board. “You think so little of me, Louis. I’m not a monster.”

“Did you seek Lestat out? At a bar?”

Armand’s eyes grow colder. “Am I supposed to know that name? Is that your lover? My lawyer will be so pleased to know you cheated, Louis. You won’t get a dime.”

“Oh fuck you! I’ve never asked you for money.”

“Who pays for this apartment? And all the bills, Louis? Your precious bar gig doesn’t.”

Louis moves closer, truly riled up now. “I didn’t ask you to buy this fucking apartment! I wanted to rent! I was renting but you insisted we move and get something more permanent!”

“Excuse me for wanting to provide for my husband!”, Armand spits back.

“You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to move to Dubai, you just bought a place! Who the fuck does that?”

“Adults with money.”

Louis scoffs, his fingers digging into his palm with how tight of a fist he’s making at his side. “Fuck. You.”

“You don’t! You haven’t fucked me in over a year, Louis!”

“Because I don’t love you!”

Armand looks wounded for a beat before the mask slips back into place. “Clearly. You remove every trace of me from the home I pay for, you invite a strange man over and break our couch, most likely from adultery and you have the nerve to shout at me like I’ve done something wrong? Get out, Louis.”

“The fuck you mean, get out? It’s my home too.”

“It’s actually not, I pay the mortgage. Now kindly tell me where you’ve stashed my things and then go.”

“You can fuck back off to your new place in Dubai. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Ah! There it is, the real reason. You’ve stayed here. enduring me because you can’t support yourself.”

“You know my family cut me off! I couldn’t finish school!”

Armand is shouting now. “And how many times have I offered to pay for you to go back to school, Louis!? You can’t keep whining about how your mother cut you off! Some of us have to work for what we have.”

“You know what, fine. I’ll go. I can’t stand to look at you anymore. You’re nothing but daddy issues wrapped up in a blank check. No amount of money can fix what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Oh we’re going there? Fine, you have mommy AND daddy issues, sister issues, brother issues, shall I go on? Who else is the excuse for your problems, Louis? I’m surprised Paul was the one who killed himself.”

Louis’ jaw is tight, eyes sharp.
“I might be fucking depressed but at least I’m loveable.”

Armand crosses the kitchen, shoving him hard enough against the wall to crack the drywall and send a few frames cascading to the floor with a crash. Louis groans.

“Be gone by the time I get back.” Armand steps over him and the broken glass, grabs his keys and slams the door, shaking the walls with the force.

Panting, Louis picks himself up off the floor and slides his phone out of his pocket with a shaky hand. He texts Lily as he searches for a suitcase and starts throwing anything of importance inside.

As he’s pulling shoes out from under the bed in the guest room, a black leather wallet slides out along with his loafer. Lestat. They forgot to check the guest room on their hunt for his wallet.

He snaps a photo and sends it to Lestat, figuring he’s still on the plane. They had arrived at the airport earlier than necessary that evening so Lestat could go through all the extra security steps due to not having any identification on him.

Louis traces the stitching and opens the wallet, going for Lestat’s ID. He unsurprisingly looks gorgeous in the photo. Of course he’s the type to look good even under harsh DMV lights. His hair is shorter, chopped just above his shoulders and Louis finds himself liking it long best. Louis skims the information, reading over Lestat’s address and birthday. It makes Louis tear up having this extra information. He misses him terribly and gets an awful idea.

“I should fire you.”

Lestat glares at Madeline from the entryway of his apartment.

“But you won’t.” She knows how much Claudia loves her, solidifying her presence in the house until she’s at least too old to need a babysitter.

He doesn’t argue as he rolls his luggage into the living room and dumps it by a chair. He turns to the other woman in the room with a tight lipped smile on his face.
“Mother.”

“Lestat. Madeleine tells me you are taking time off from work.”

He glances at the redhead who slowly slips down the hallway towards her room. Of course Christine told her everything.

“Well yes, I thought I would spend more time with Claudia.” He nonchalantly flicks his wrist.

She sees through the lie, regarding his cheeks puffy from tears and darkened skin under his eyes. Her cold eyes hone in on the hospital bracelet on his wrist but she doesn’t ask.

“You would think you’d remember to eat in a city like New Orleans.” Her hand goes to his slim stomach, poking him there. He steps back and moves around her, busying himself by searching for cigarettes in his bag.

He offers one to her and she takes it, pulling out her own lighter, lighting it in his living room. “Mother, step outside. I don’t smoke around Claudia.”

She shrugs and saunters past him, opening the patio door. He follows her, lighting his own. They sit in chairs beside one another in silence for a moment.

“What did Madeleine tell you?…”

Gabriella blows a ring of smoke out as she looks at him. Her piercing blue eyes that he inherited staring a hole through his.
“Bit of this, bit of that. You are apparently spiraling over a boy, enough to land you in the hospital. Was it pills again, this time?”

Lestat scoffs. “He’s not a boy, he’s a man. And I didn’t… I was drugged if you must know.”

She nods as he confirms what she already knew.

“He’s… different. You know I do not date. He met Claudia and she loves him. He broke my heart.” Lestat turns his head so she can’t see his watery eyes.

“Lestat, your heart is made of glass. You have always been so soft and while that works for your daughter, it only hurts you.”

“I do not know where I inherited it because you are the opposite of soft and Father, well we both know how he was.”

She looks ahead, out at the city and says nothing.

“I have wished all my life that you could be soft too. I understand, you did what you had to to survive him but he’s long dead and still, you are cold to me when all I’ve craved is your love in return.”

“You can’t possibly think I don’t love you, Lestat.”

He doesn’t reply, blowing smoke out.

“I need to go check on Claudia. Does she even know you’re here?”

“Of course, I’ve been here for a few days. You think so little of me.”

“Well.” He stands, flicking his cigarette butt into an ashtray before he slips back inside.

He knocks on Claudia’s door. “Claudia, it’s Papa.”

“Go away! I want Gabi!” He rolls his eyes, forever annoyed that his mother refuses to let Claudia call her any version of “grandma” in any language.

He opens her door anyway and she lets out an annoyed groan, screaming at him. “Go away!!”

He sits on her bed and looks at her with wet eyes, in no mood to fight. “Bébé, s’il te plaît. I’ve had a very exhausting week.”

She softens a bit as she sees his expression. “Why did you send me away? We were supposed to get ice cream.”

“I know. I’m so sorry for not keeping my promise. I didn’t feel good and didn’t want you to feel bad too. Did Gabi take you anywhere?”

She nods. “She took me to get some new clothes!”

“I bet.” He resists the urge to roll his eyes. His mother, who only knows how to give attention with her credit card.

“I am sorry, ma petite. Can you forgive me? I will be home with you for over a month. Just us, and I suppose however long your grand-mére decides to stick around.”

“A month!!” She jumps up and into his arms, squealing excitedly. He holds her close, burying his face into her curls.

“You know I love you, yes?”

She pulls back to look at him, her brows furrowed as if he just asked the stupidest question she’s ever heard. “Duh! You’re my best friend and best friends love each other!”

Lestat bites his lower lip to stop fresh tears. Oh, his little angel. He is forever grateful he gave her the opposite of his childhood.

Dinner is filled with tense silence among the adults. Gabriella sat herself at the head of the table with Lestat and Claudia on the sides. Madeleine declined the invitation, heading out to meet friends since Lestat is there to watch his daughter.

Claudia happily yaps to her willing audience as she eats, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room between mother and son.

Lestat barely touches his plate and Gabriella watches him with clear judgment on her face.

“You must eat. Do you think they want a skeleton on stage when you return to work?”

“Mother, I am not that slim. You know my metabolism is fast. I’m simply not hungry.”

“Papa, it’s really good!” She holds out a chicken nugget towards him and he doesn’t reach for it.

“Merci, ma petite. Enjoy your meal.” He heated up some nuggets for her since she didn’t want the takeout they ordered.

He gets up, his chair scraping the floor loudly, and takes his plate to the kitchen. He grips the edge of the counter, his back turned but he senses her behind him.
“How long do you plan to stay this time?”
His tone suggests he’d prefer she didn’t at all.

She hums in thought. “Well, I need to make sure my only granddaughter is looked after. I can’t have you moping about the house, forgetting to feed her.”

He turns, anger apparent on his face. “I’m not you.”

She looks taken back for a beat before her face returns to its stony mask. She tsks. “Lestat, you must learn to let things go. Look at where your awful childhood led you.” She holds her arms out, gesturing to the large kitchen they stand in, fixed with high end appliances.

“Putain de merde. Pars, c'est ce que tu fais le mieux.” Leave, it's what you do best.

For the first time in her life, she stays.