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Louis de Pointe du Lac lives a good life, even if it's a quiet one. Everything is the way he needs to like it, undisturbed. That is until his former best friend kidnaps him and declares his undying love for him, of course.
They locked eyes, unknowingly setting Louis in a trap. He was entranced, following the lines around Lestat's violet eyes crinkle. The tension between them crackled, deafening the reverberating echo of their synced heartbeats. It was alluring yet deadly to be back in Lestat's orbit, where his enchantment cast shadows around Louis' judgment — venomous in practice but so sweet in theory.
"I am in love with you Louis, you are loved. I send my love to you, and you send it back round to me," Lestat spoke softly, running the back of his hand across Louis' temple. He said it definitively, like no other outcome existed.
Or, the one where Lestat kidnaps Louis.
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Ilya got up then, walking over to Shane's side of the lounge so he could nestle his hand into the boy's dark hair, for the sake of eye-contact. "Ah, I hear you are great at giving interviews but I don't believe it. No, cannot be true. Sweet Canadian boy only has a tongue for his boyfriend, hm. Is that what it is?"
Shane flushed at the condescending choice of words, eyes watering as he looked directly into Ilya's wolfish expression. "I don't, didn't mean it," he tried, head slumping forward to land on Ilya's shoulder as he grew steadily hard under his sweatpants.
"Oh, so you are too fucking stupid to say what you mean, I get it," Ilya plastered a grin as he added, "Is my baby too slow to use his words? Or is the great Shane Hollander just dumb hockey player?" Ilya cooed, tightening his grip as he stuck his thumb into Shane's pliant mouth. "I think I will have to do the talking for both of us, tell the press you can only take my dick now. Is all you're good for."
Or, the dumbification of Shane Hollander.