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Louis was Daniel’s best friend, as much as two adult men could be besties, but if you put a gun to his head he would tell you bluntly; Louis had terrible taste in relationships.
Not in men, he had a habit of picking up supremely beautiful and talented men, it was just that they were all fucked in the head. Even Armand, Daniel could admit, fell into this category. When Daniel had met Armand for the first time at a gallery opening, Armand had been Louis’ boyfriend of two years and his arm candy for the night. By the end of the night Armand had been in Daniel’s bed, an infidelity that had somehow led them to where they were now; Daniel divorced, Armand and Louis weirdly self-actualised exes and Daniel and Louis close friends. Wonders never ceased.
All of which to say, when Louis called Daniel to say he’d met someone his instinct was to groan dramatically, an instinct which he valiantly suppressed in the name of friendship. Reluctantly he stood up from the sofa, waving Armand to continue watching (rewatching) Blade Runner with a flick of his hand and an exaggerated eye roll towards the phone.
Once he was in the kitchen he poured himself some wine, and interrupted Louis’ ramble about their meet-cute.
“So what’s the guy’s name?” He asked, and Louis stopped talking abruptly.
“Oh, um. She’s called Lestat?” He sounded hesitant, even as Daniel boggled. Louis ‘Gold Star Gay’ de Pointe du Lac dating a woman? It seemed insane, even as Louis kept talking his ear off about her.
“.. and anyway, I agreed to go to the opera -”
“You hate the opera.”
“What? No, I don’t.”
“You told Armand it was dull as fuck and refused to go with him to the opening nights.” At Armand’s theatre where he directed opera , Daniel could add if he felt spiteful. That was a tricky line to walk after cuckolding a man for months and stealing his boyfriend, so he didn’t bother.
“I guess it’s different with Lestat.” Louis snapped, although his voice softened on the name.
“I won’t tell Armand you said that,” Daniel replied magnanimously. “I am happy for you, Lou. Just giving you shit.”
“You won’t mind me bringing her to family dinner, then?”
“Jesus, it’s that serious? You've known her less than a week.” And he’d never brought a partner to family dinner before.
“Yeah, Danny. It’s pretty serious.”
Something in Louis’ voice told Daniel it was the truth, he was already head over heels for this woman. So, the mysterious Lestat was coming to dinner. Yay.
***
Later, he would reflect that it was a stroke of terrible luck that he hadn’t mentioned the name of Louis’ new paramour to Armand, and nor did the other man ask. When Daniel had sat back down on the sofa and informed him of the development he had shrugged a little, entwined their hands and kept his attention fixed doggedly on the screen, where Harrison Ford was brutally taking an android to pieces. Daniel didn’t mention it again, afraid that Armand was covering up some latent jealousy or hurt feelings.
Family dinner day rolled around eventually; it was their turn to host, which meant that Daniel was cooking leisurely while Armand frantically primped their dining room.
“She’s not the Queen of Sheba, babe.” Daniel called down the hallway, answered only by the sound of chairs being dragged into new positions.
He was removing the Shakshuka from the oven when the doorbell rang; he heard Armand swear vehemently, and the chair began scraping across the floor again.
“I’ll get it!” He called out, making his way down the hallway. “You have one minute before I bring them in there.”
He opened the door with a smile, and was greeted by Louis’ familiar (stupidly handsome, if Daniel was honest) visage. Next to him, however, was a surprising-looking woman. She wore a stunning vintage flapper-style dress under a bright green fluffy jacket, a combination that should have looked entirely stupid but on her looked like the height of fashion. She was about an inch taller than Louis, and not even wearing heels, and her hair was a golden halo that glowed in the dim light of their porch.
“Enchanté,” She said in a low, seductive voice and held out her hand to be kissed. It was perfectly manicured, he noticed as he brought it to his lips and made bewildered eye contact with Louis. Louis simply shrugged, glancing at Lestat with a look in his eye that said ‘she is a goddess made flesh, and I am in her thrall’.
After which, Daniel managed to make introductions and invite them in.
Lestat was French, which Louis had neglected to mention, and also rude as fuck, which he seemed not to notice.
“You have a… delightfully quaint abode.” She told Daniel, while Louis nodded along. Then she ran a finger along the frame of one of Armand’s paintings and wrinkled her nose delicately. Daniel gritted his teeth.
He was momentarily grateful when Armand stuck his head out of the dining room, seemingly ready for their guests to be seated. He was half way through catching Daniel’s eye when he stuttered to a halt, stared blankly at Lestat and stepped out into the hallway. An apocalyptic look flashed over his face and Daniel watched in horror as his mouth curled into a pitiless sneer.
“Monsieur Lestat.” Armand said with a growl in his voice, and suddenly Daniel placed the name. Lestat, Armand’s ex boyfriend Lestat. Lestat who had cheated on Armand with the first chair violinist and run off to Paris. That Lestat?
“It’s Madame now, Gremlin.” Lestat replied haughtily.
And then Armand punched her square in the nose.