Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
Louis was fucked. He should've known when he overslept for the first time since - well, ever, as far as he could remember. After getting ready in record time, he was sprinting across the lawn to the main house. Family breakfast was currently being served. He could hear metal spoons stirring cereal and coffee, as well as the twins giggling and Benji’s babbling. Grace was patiently feeding him berries although quite a few of them had already ended up on the floor. His sister’s husband was hidden from his view behind the newspaper, but put it down and looked up when Louis stepped through the terrace doors into the dining room.
“What brings you over here this early in the morning?” Levi was folding up the paper like he was relieved he had a reason to put it aside.
“Actually, I’m already late.” Louis said. “Overslept. So I won’t have the time to drop off the girls today.” He looked at the twins apologetically.
The tears started immediately. “No! Uncle Lou has to drive us!” “I won't go without Uncle Lou! I'm staying home!” Two sets of little feet knocking on the dining chairs in protest.
Louis could feel his resolve weakening. “I guess I could-”
“What are you sayin’, Louis!” Grace cut in. She had stopped feeding Benji since he was too busy imitating his big sisters, swinging his short legs back and forth in his high chair. “Get yourself to work, we’ll manage on our own. It's no big deal.”
Louis smiled at her gratefully.
As he was heading down the corridor to the front door, he could Levi drawl through a mouth of something.
“And how are they gettin’ to kindergarten then?”
Grace scoffed. “Well, you don't start work until 10, don't you? Go on, get yourself dressed!”
A chair was being pushed back and he could hear Levi exit the dining room into the hallway, grumbling to himself. Quickly, he slipped out the front door. He knew that Levi would've been able to convince him to drive the twins, if he caught him on his way out.
In the end he was late by 15 minutes. So what. I know Tom is always at least 40 minutes late to anything. And he has his own business, it's gonna be fine . At least that's what he was trying to tell himself.
"Louis, I was about to do a welfare check! How can you be here at 9:15, I'm already on my second cup of coffee!"
Of course Lily was already on her desk. Her desk that was back to back with Louis' - So there wasn't even any point in trying to lie and say "Oh, you must've missed me coming in, good to see you!". Oh, she wasn’t going to let him live that down any time soon.
His standing with Lily was...weird. She had had the same position Louis was now working: 'Communication & Customer Service', which boiled down to being an underpaid and overworked secretary/cleaning service. And handiman, whenever the set up people booked along with an art exhibit didn't show or were too expensive. You truly hadn't felt actual fear until you balanced a painting that was worth about 15k on a 8 foot ladder.
Lily and he had met at his interview. In retrospect, she was probably so nice to him on that first day because him getting and accepting that job meant she could move up. Or at least onto the second desk in the tiny office space. Her official job was now "Digital Services & Marketing". But from what Louis had seen it wasn't too different from what he was doing. Better pay though.
Still, they both were very aware that they both aspired to a more....official position. They both genuinely appreciated art and loved showcasing artists and pitching pieces to the gallery visitors. To have a say in what was shown, though? To recommend artists yourself? To have a say in the business side of things... Yes, they both wanted to become full fledged partners to Tom Anderson, the owner of the gallery.
Naturally, Lily had assumed the hiring of Louis and her new and improved job position had been the first step on her rising career ladder.
It had been two years since Louis started working for Anderson and still, everything had stayed the same. Lily and Louis cramped into the small office working on outdated windows PCs, having to face each other for the entire day.
So for now, Lily would take any opportunity to gloat about any possible advantages she had over Louis. She just had to let Louis know that the $15 wraps from the shop down the street were really worth the price. But she knew they were a bit too expensive as a daily lunch with Louis' salary. Still, just to let him know! Maybe for a special occasion...
So, when Louis had taken off his jacket and changed into his nicer work shoes and Lily's eyes were still following his every move with a smug expression, he knew. There had to be something else.
"Oh, by the way, Tom left a note for you, since you weren't in yet. It's on your desk."
Motherfucker .
No way was he going to show how panicked he felt to Lily. He sat down and unhurriedly unfolded the note.
'Need to speak with you. Will be back at 2. Be sure to finish up all orders until then.'
Louis swallowed. His ass was about to be fired. For being late once in almost two years of employment.
"What does it say?" Lily asked, all fake curiosity.
Louis grinded his teeth. "Did Tom say anything to you?"
Lily's eyes got huge and had Louis not known her for years, he might have bought she actually felt for him.
"Only that he really needed to talk with you and that it was really impossible of you not to be on time."
Louis didn't say anything more. He just opened his spreadsheets back up and started typing up overly polite letters with cost estimates attached to them like on autopilot.
He was somewhat saved from his misery when an older married couple came into the gallery around noon and were all too happy to listen to him talk about the art on display. They promised to return on a later date and put in an inquiry for one of the prints of local plants on the east wall. Tom would be ecstatic, they hadn't sold a single one of them yet, despite there being only 15 copies of each work.
By the time they left, it was 1:30 and Louis was starting to feel faint. The only chair he could sit down on was back in the office with Lily. He decided to step outside for a bit.
He quickly put out his third cigarette when Tom's mercedes rounded the corner. He pocketed his phone and tried to forget about his 4 missed calls to Grace. He had to settle for texting her "DW but will probably be home early, so I can make dinner for the twins. I’m good👍🏾"
Even though it was the middle of summer, the gallery was only slightly cooler than the beaming sun outside, to preserve the paintings on the walls. The back of Louis's dress shirt was plastered to his back with sweat as he stepped back inside. He should’ve expected it, Lily was in the showroom, looking perfectly put together.
"I got a question for Tom about the shipment that comes in next week."
Sure you do .
There was no way Lily was missing him getting sacked in the middle of the week. Without having made any impact. Without making any connections. Without getting any guidance from his boss.
Tom strolled through the gallery entrance and immediately addressed Louis. "Oh, you're here. Let's go into my office." No public firing then. Lily would be sorely disappointed.
"Excuse me, Tom? I have a question about the Roman-"
Tom ran right over her sentence. "That'll have to wait, some things are ‘bout to change." Tom pushed his hair back from his face where sweat had plastered it to his forehead. He seemed to consider something for a moment.
"Actually, you can come along to my office. This concerns you as well, either way." He didn't wait for either of them to answer and was already walking to the back of the gallery. Lily was quick to follow him and held open the door for Louis in a show of mock respect. Now that she was sure he was about to be out of her way, she was nice to him again.
Tom pointed to the chair in front of his desk and Louis dropped into it, not even trying to look put together at this point. Lily sat down on the chair next to his without being asked to, Tom took his seat behind his modern minimalist desk. Not even a pen in sight.
Lily was sitting completely straight next to him and that made Louis take a breath and set his shoulders back. He could take this with his dignity intact at least.
"So Louis, I don't want to make this too long a thing. I'll get straight to the point." Tom was smiling at him in a condescending way and pointed his finger around the room like he needed to illustrate a difficult concept. "We both know things at the gallery aren't runnin’ as smoothly as they could. Long waitin’ times. Miscommunicated interest. Frustrated artists. All of that spells 'losing money' for me and, by proxy, for you guys."
Lily took the chance to join the beat down: "And not being in the office reliably is of course also not helping things..." She looked at Louis with big eyes again. Like she was telling him this in a gentle way, so he could do better in the future. Like she was sorry she even had to criticize him.
Tom cleared his throat. "Right, exactly what I'm thinking." He pointed his finger directly at Louis. This was it. Louis couldn't look him in the eyes. His gaze dropped to his hands wringing despite his best efforts.
"That's why I think you should join the operation. For real this time. What do you say to becoming a business partner? A real part of the gallery?"
Louis was already halfway through reciting "Of course, I completely understand. Thank you for the-" before any of what Tom had said even registered in his brain. He was still looking down to his lap, he turned to see Lily's hand pressed to her side so tightly the fingertips were turning light.
Slowly, like waking up from a dream, he looked up at his boss. "Me?"
Definitely not the professional answer you want to give to a proposal like this. Tom didn't really seem to care.
"Yeah, sure! You really earned it! I know I can trust you to work directly with me." He clapped his hands together and pushed himself up from his desk so he was standing again. Looking down on Louis and Lily, he continued to speak.
"I think we could get you all set up just in time for next month's opening. What do you think of doing the vernissage tomorrow to get used to overseeing these things?" He gestured vaguely to Lily, "Just ask Lils for anything you need."
Lily's voice sounded like she hadn’t spoken for at least a week. "Tom, about those packages comin’ in on Tuesday-"
Tom cut her off with a loud throat clear. "Sorry, I don't really got the… headspace to talk about that. I have a dinner meeting in about an hour, need to get ready for that." He plucked his suit jacket from the back of his office chair.
"Louis, see to moving your stuff in the office right across from mine. I don't want to walk down the hall every time I need to speak to you." He turned to Lily with what was probably supposed to be a charming smile. "See, Lils, I told you. You got the office all to yourself now! You were right, it really was too small to fit two people." Lily weakly smiled back at him.
"I'm gonna keep the second desk in there for now, though. Was thinkin’ of gettin’ an unpaid intern. Maybe some cute little university student? We could really use some sex appeal here..." Lily coughed loudly and quickly got up and strutted out of the office. Louis was about to push himself up and follow her when Tom put his sweaty hand on his shoulder.
"Don't let her get you down. You deserve this!" Again, that same smile that didn't reach his eyes and didn't last longer than three perfectly estimated seconds. "See you on Monday, I'm off!"
Louis was left sitting in Tom's office. He looked at the modern sleek clock on the wall. 2:19. Huh.
In a daze he made his way to the empty room across the hall. His office now.
The room was smaller than the one he and Lily had been sharing and a film of dust had collected on everything. From what he knew, the office had been used by the gallery's previous co-owner. He had left before Louis started working at the gallery, but Lily had been all too happy to gossip to Louis about the big falling out between him and Tom, back when she saw him as her future stepping stool. Louis brushed off the old desk chair and put his suit jacket over the back just like Tom had done in his office.
He walked down the hall to pack up his office supplies. To his surprise, Lily was waiting for him in front of their room, arms crossed, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her baby blue blazer. She pushed herself off the wall when he had almost made it to the doorway.
She gave him a strained smile. "Yeah, really didn't see that coming. And for you, of all people!" The smile she gave him looked more like a baring of teeth. "Could be really frustrating for employees that have been working here for 10 years..." She brushed down her skirt and exhaled. "I am really happy for you, though.” She pressed her lips together, like she had to stop more words from tumbling out of her mouth.
“Don't forget about me up there!" She turned around too quickly for Louis to be sure, but she sounded close to tears.
He thought about calling after her but really, what could he say? The pressure he had felt building up ever since he found the meeting notice on his desk this morning had released all at once. But seeing Lily clutching her hands in her lap trying to keep her face from crumbling weighed him down again.
Was he even ready to take the lead on the next exhibition? Just the idea of giving an opening speech he wrote himself had his knees buckling. And looking an artist in the eye and telling them 'Sorry I don't think this piece will work for this showing', which was a polite way to say 'This won't sell' and they both would know. How did Tom do it? Probably by worrying a lot less about how other people felt about what he did.
Just when his conscience won out and he was about to look for Lily, his phone rang. He hadn't even put it on silent because he thought the meeting would've lasted five minutes at most. Grace was calling him.
"Hi." Louis really didn't have it in him to make any conversation.
"What do you mean ‘Hi.’? I thought you were fixin’ to be fired with the way that message was worded! Don't just text me in the middle of the day like you're about to be executed by firing squad!" She was genuinely angry. Louis had to laugh.
"Sorry, sorry. But to be fair, I really did think I was about to lose my job."
Grace still sounded sour. "Awful way to tell me about it. You sounded like we wouldn't hear from you for 20 years." Now she had to giggle as well. "You sound happy though. Good news?"
Louis could feel a huge smile on his face and hoped Grace could hear it through the phone as well. "I got a promotion. A big one. Tom wants me as a partner. As in. Business partner. As in-" He didn't get to explain anything more because Grace was squealing into his ear.
"LOUIS, Louuu! This is huge ! Oh my god, I gotta tell Levi, I gotta tell the twins! Or, wait, you wanna tell them? It's your good news, after all."
Louis was laughing again, he suddenly felt like he had slept a full 8 hours and just gotten up, bright and early, ready to face anything. And the day before him seemed to hold endless possibilities.
"Whatd’ya wanna do to celebrate? Any food you're craving?" Grace was still giddy.
"Oh, nothin’ too fancy...I think I'll be happy to just spend a nice evening with my family." Louis actually couldn't wait to see the twins reaction to the news. And even little Benji who wouldn't know what was going on at all but would be all too happy to get caught up in the excitement.
Such a beautiful thing to have his nieces and nephew grow up in the house right next to him. He wouldn't ever miss a first step and new thing they learned that day. And they wouldn't ever miss having an uncle to lean on, to cuddle with when they got sleepy and one who always got the best presents for any occasion.
Grace blew a raspberry. "Oh, forget about that! I mean after the babies are asleep! What are the du Lacs gettin’ up to?"
Louis rolled his eyes. "I just told you, an evening with my lovely family is all I could ever want for."
Another raspberry. "Well, it ain’t enough for me! I love my kids with all my heart. But I see them all day, every day. And that won't change for a few years." She clicked her tongue. "No, I think I have to insist on being taken out to dance and havin’ a good time!"
Louis gasped mockingly. "Thought you had given up on all that, now that you're settled with your man?"
Grace giggled. "And I married a man who can watch my kids for an evening. We're goin’ out to celebrate and you ain’t changin’ my mind! I need this!"
Louis wasn't sure this was about him getting a promotion at all. But he didn't have a choice in the matter either way.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Summary:
As soon as they rounded the corner, Grace pulled him close and shook him giggling like a schoolgirl. "My god, Louis. We ain’t even made it to the bar and you got suitors lined up asking for your first dance." She twirled him around in a graceless pirouette. Louis laughed, clutched at her hips and pulled her into a hug. It had really been far too long since they had had stupid fun like this together.
_____
Grace makes Louis take her to the club to celebrate his big promotion at work. He makes quite a few heads turn...
Notes:
mild discussion of alcohol in this, but still no tw in this chapter, enjoy!
I have up to chapter 5 ready to post, but I'm thinking I would like to keep this at one update a week, let me know what you think^_^
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Louis was already tired enough to call it a night by the time they made it to the queue in front of the club. He knew it was hopeless to change his sister's mind - but he had to at least try. "Grace, look at how long that line is...it’ll take us ages to even get close enough to talk to the bouncer. Let's just head back and watch a movie or somethin’."
Grace turned around to him, the fringes of her top angrily swishing around her. "You don't gotta wait in line - You got me with you! Dressed like this? There's no way we won't get in!" She started stalking along the line of scantily clad party goers, ignoring any people shouting after her for even attempting to skip to the front.
"I did not make you change your outfit just to give up before we even talked to anyone."
Louis looked down on his chest. He still felt ridiculous in the rusted red dress shirt with sheer cutouts. He had bought it about a year back and had never worn it because there had never been any occasion where he hadn't tried to appear as a put together businessman, not someone who was showcasing his tits in black lace. The pants and shoes were something he actually would wear at work but that didn't stop the urge to cross his arms over his unusually exposed chest.
Grace wasn't paying any attention to Louis' identity crisis. "I got two four year olds at home, believe me when I say I can win any argument." She raised her middle finger to someone in the line calling her a bitch.
All too soon they made it to the bouncer. A handsome black guy about Louis' age. Not wasting any time, Grace leaned into his personal space, making sure her arms were crossed in a way that made her breast bulge into the neckline of her shirt. Louis stood two steps behind her and prayed to become invisible. This was humiliating. What were they even doing here? Hopefully, the bouncer would be swift but brutal in his dismissal.
Since he was trying his best to keep a distance, he didn't realise when the bouncer turned to talk to him. It was only when Grace elbowed him that he focused on the guy that suddenly had his entire attention on Louis.
"So, what got you in the mood to party?" He was smiling.
What kinda question is that to get into a club?
Louis laughed awkwardly. "It really was all my sister's idea." He pointed to Grace who held up a peace sign and grinned.
For some reason that seemed to satisfy the bouncer and he snapped open the red cord that guided the line to the front of the club and also barred them from getting inside. Outraged shouts and exacerbated "Come on, man!"s derived from the waiting crowd. Grace laughed out loud and tugged at Louis' hand to tell him he should move.
That only made Louis stumble until he was steadied by a warm hand on the small of his back. The bouncer was leaning close to him and spoke directly into his ear. "Watch yourself, ok? And if you feel unsafe or maybe just a bit lonely..." The bouncer blushed and scratched his neck. "Just ask for Jonah. That's me. I'll be there until we close." He smiled and his eyes drifted to Louis' mouth. Louis started to feel warm, hot even.
"Thanks." He got out, quietly. Then, he let himself be pulled into the club by his little sister.
As soon as they rounded the corner and Jonah was out of earshot, Grace pulled him close and shook him giggling like a schoolgirl. "My god, Louis. We ain’t even made it to the bar and you got suitors lined up asking for your first dance." She twirled him around in a graceless pirouette. Louis laughed, clutched at her hips and pulled her into a hug. It had really been far too long since they had had stupid fun like this together.
Grace put on the same determined facial expression as when she was making sure all three kids, her far too relaxed husband and herself all left the house on time, with all the food and kindergarten supplies needed. "First order of business, let's secure ourselves a table. These old bones cannot stand an entire evening without somethin’ to lean on."
They got lucky on the balcony overseeing the ground floor. For a few minutes they watched the brave people who started to populate the dancefloor. There was still so much space between everyone that no uncoordinated dance moves would be hidden.
Louis turned to Grace. "Alright, since I doubted your genius to even get us in here, let me get some refreshments. Any requests?" Grace laughed. "A beer is fine for me. I'll guard this table with my life while you're gone."
Carefully, Louis climbed down the metal stairs back to the ground floor where the bar was. This'll be a nightmare when we're actually drunk, he thought. He still felt a bit tired, though. They probably wouldn't stay super late. Plus, I gotta hold a speech tomorrow and have only rehearsed it one time. Can't embarrass myself the first time Tom lets me do anything .
Where the floor was still relatively empty, the bar was already surrounded by people. Most seemed to look for some liquid courage before really starting the night.
When Louis got closer to the bar he saw there was one singular bartender serving up drinks and he was taking his time chatting to some girls in low cut halter tops. Great .
Louis wiggled his way through the crowd to the bar and leaned over it. He waved his arm and called "Hey, over here!" The bartender raised his head from looking at another woman's cleavage, took one look at Louis and turned his back to him. Louis gaped. There is no way that just happened.
He felt someone brush against his shoulder. Then, a voice, once again, close to his ear. "He won't pay any attention to me, either. Quel dommage. I seem to have the opposite problem. I can't take my eyes off of you..." Louis couldn't tell if the French accent was affected or if this guy actually sounded like a listening exercise in 6th grade French class. Still, he had a rich deep voice and smelled really nice, turning around and taking a look wouldn't hurt him.
The guy was still talking "You're a vision in red. Comme un beau diable, coming to steal m-" Louis' eyes caught the other man's and he just froze. Stopped talking mid sentence, mouth slightly opened. Louis blinked at him. The guy didn't blink back.
Louis let his gaze wander, this guy looked so stereotypical European, Louis could honestly understand if he had faked a thick French accent his entire life, what other career option was there for him?
Long blond hair, looking golden even in the colourful club lights, broad shoulders, on full display in his purple mesh top, high cheekbones and striking blue eyes. Somehow, they were a lush blue colour and light enough to seemingly gleam, even in this low light. Louis would’ve felt bad for staring, but the man still hadn't finished his sentence, so what was there to do except to wait.
After a full minute had passed, genuine worry won out. Louis stepped closer to the blonde and asked as gently as you could while being heard over the club’s music "You feelin’ ok?"
The guy's eyes snapped back to him and he turned a delightful bright shade of red. All the way to his collarbones.
"Oh, well, that is- Bien sûr, I'm super." His blonde lashes fluttered as he rapidly blinked. He was still staring at Louis, then his eyes darted around the room to see what Louis was looking at. "So, what brings you here?" A wobbly sort of smile took over the man's face. When Louis barked out a laugh, the other man's lips parted for a genuine grin. His teeth nervously bit into his bottom lip.
Louis couldn't stop laughing. "To- to the bar? Well, I would like somethin’ to drink, just like everyone around us, I imagine." Again he descended into giggles. It got so bad he had to actually hold onto the guy's broad shoulders so he wouldn't barrel over. A large hand snuck around his waist to keep him steady while fits of laughter shook his entire body.
It didn't take long and it was both of them laughing, just holding onto each other. No one even knew what had been so funny in the first place.
It was the other guy who got his bearings back first. He used his grip on Louis' middle to tug him into his side, Louis' arm still hung over his neck. A heavy scent swept over Louis and almost instinctively, he turned his nose, blonde hair brushing against it. Magnolia. It reminded Louis of feeling sunbeams on his face, swatting mosquitoes away that were inescapable in the humid New Orleans air. It made him feel the rush of summertime, as if it was the middle of winter and he had desperately missed it for months.
Normally, Louis’ shoulders hardened when someone suddenly touched him without warning. He liked to keep his distance until he knew someone better. He could feel the phantom of a thousand overfamiliar shoulder pats from Tom Anderson on his back. At work, he grit his teeth and beared it, not wanting to fall in Tom’s bad graces, but this was the second time a hand was on the small of his back this evening. First Jonah, with his gentle smile and warm hands and now this guy. Louis felt sweat run down his neck. Must be because I’m squeezed between all these people .
Louis was being spun around on his feet by the other man, as if he weighed nothing. His stomach fluttered and he felt his face warm. The man maneuvered both of them close to the bar again. In a practiced motion he tugged his hand over the bar top and pulled two bottles of beer out of a stash ready to be handed to paying customers.
The bar man took notice and shouted something to the mystery guy, but he had already twirled Louis and himself back around and other demanding customers closed the gap they had occupied right back up.
A few feet from the bar there was enough space to let go of eachother and step back. Louis' entire side felt cold like the other man's presence had taken residence under his skin and was trying to pull a vital organ back into Louis' insides.
Louis looked at the beer in his hand. "Oh, fuck me." He turned back around to the bar and the mass of people in his way. "I was supposed to get one for my sister as well."
Without any hesitation the guy pushed the other bottle in Louis' hand. "Take this one."
Louis looked at him. "No, I couldn't-"
"Why not? Just promise me to take good care of her." The stranger laughed. A real full body laugh, not the breathless giggles at the bar. A deep and rich laugh. Louis felt his belly grow warm and he hadn't even opened his beer yet.
Louis held up the two bottles in his hands. "Alright, well, thank you. I have to get back to my sister." For a few moments they both just stared at each other. "Uhhhh, bye." And Louis turned around before he could say anything worse.
Climbing up the cast iron stairs and his legs still felt like had drunk a bottle of wine by himself. He felt warm and buzzing and everything seemed hazy and dreamlike.
Get it together, you left Gracie for 40 minutes on her own, don't waste her time daydreaming about some pretty guy you just bumped into .
He put the beers down on the table and puffed out a breath. "I fought in the trenches for these."
Grace giggled. "Yea, how did you manage to get anything? There's like a million people screaming at the bar keeper." She looked off the balcony to the sea of people.
Louis let his fingers glide down the sides of the bottle, drawing patterns into the condensation running down the glass. "There was this guy," he risked a glance to Grace who was still leaning on the railing, looking down. "He stole two beers for me." He felt his face grow warm. Grace apparently took this for happiness over getting drinks for the two of them.
She theatrically raised her bottle over her head. "Well, thank you to this guy. Our evening is saved!" They both erupted into laughter.
They took their time to nurse their beers since they both knew it was probably going to be their last drink of the night considering the ongoing chaos at the bar downstairs. Grace swung the last few gulps of liquid around in her bottle. "I wanna go dance after we're done with these."
Louis let out a childish whine.
"I don't wanna hear it! I got us into the club! I made you wear a cute outfit! We have to dance, I don't care if you're embarrassed."
Louis pulled a face. "I'm not a good dancer-"
Grace rolled her eyes. "First of all, not true and you know it. Secondly, no one cares if you can dance at the club. It's just everyone using their elbows to get enough space to wiggle around a bit. You don't have to show off a choreographed routine!"
"Grace, you can't make me-" Louis stopped talking because Grace wasn't looking at him anymore. Louis followed her gaze and almost dropped his beer. It was the guy from the bar. Making his way to their table.
"Hi." The guy's eyes were glued to Louis again. He felt impossibly exposed now that Grace was there to witness it all.
"What's up?" said another voice. Oh, there was another person with bar guy. He gave a relaxed wave and turned to his sister.
"I'm Larry, nice to meet you."
"I'm Grace."
"Hey, Grace."
A slimy smile. "You're really pretty." Grace blushed and giggled.
"She's married." Louis deadpanned.
"Louis!" Grace glared at him. Larry was still leering at her.
"Married with kids!"
Grace groaned. "Oh my god, Louis. He was telling me I look nice, he wasn't trying to seduce me!" Larry's grin only grew. He shrugged. Grace giggled again.
"Oh, his name is Lestat, by the way." A relaxed wave to bar guy this time, who was still staring at Louis.
"Hi."
Larry turned to bar guy - Lestat - Louis' mind supplied. "Dude, you already said that, like, 2 minutes ago."
Lestat didn't say anything. Larry stepped close to his friend and was trying to whisper discreetly to him. Unfortunately, he was already too drunk to correctly estimate the volume of his voice.
This way, Louis - and Grace too, he assumed - heard Larry: "You said, you had him giggling and all over you at the bar." Grace's eyebrows rose and her eyes turned to Louis.
Thank you, Larry.
Larry clutched onto a still silent Lestat's shoulder. "Man, what is going on? I've never seen you like this. Are you getting sick or something?"
Louis piped up "That's what I asked him too!" At the same time Lestat ground out a "I'm fine!" They ended up staring at each other again. Louis tried a shy smile or maybe it just showed up on his face without him really deciding to. Lestat seemed to marginally relax.
Louis toasted to him. "Thank you again, for the drinks. You saved our night." Lestat giggled and Larry's head snapped around to look at him like he had just breathed fire or something.
Larry leaned down to Grace and failed to whisper again. "He only acts like that when he really likes a guy." Grace barely avoided spitting out a mouthful of beer and Louis blushed again.
Lestat didn't help the situation either. He locked onto Louis again. Carefully he stepped closer and leaned on their table. He ducked his head. "I'm Lestat."
Louis tried to laugh but something about Lestat's helplessness was so endearing to him. "I know." He felt a slow smile stretch across his face again.
"You took care of them - the beers, I mean." Lestat's voice was hoarse and he kept swallowing air but at least he was talking.
Louis smiled at him. "Well, you asked me to, how could I say no?"
Dimly, he was aware they were really not saying anything, but that didn't seem important.
Slowly everything else had faded away and all there was in this room was Lestat's intense stare, his soft laugh and his deep voice, growing more and more confident. It was like a switch had been flipped. As if it was the same for Lestat and he had forgotten everything else around them as well. It was like they were back to being pressed together between a mass of people at the bar.
Louis realized Lestat used his hands to gesture animatedly while he spoke. He also imitated people's voices, pulled faces and struck poses to illustrate his stories.
"Are you an actor?" Louis interrupted him mid sentence. Lestat appeared dumbstruck. "Sorry, that was rude, you were saying something."
Lestat shook his head. "No, it was nothing important." He swallowed. "It's just- how did you know? I acted for about a year, long ago, back home in France." He sniffed and absentmindedly spun a ring on his finger. "People never guess that about me though. What gave it away?" He was tilting his head at Louis.
Louis licked his lips. How did he answer without sounding crazy? "It's the way you talk, I guess."
"What, with a French accent?"
Louis laughed. "No, your hand movements and how you imitate the things you're speaking about, the way you hold yourself." He felt himself strike what he assumed to look like one of Lestat's poses. The other man looked at him wide eyed.
Feeling like he had misstepped somewhat, Louis cleared his throat. "Anyways, wanna go da-" A ringtone interrupted his question. A really loud one.
"Oh, sorry, that's me!" Grace was already digging through her bag. She found her phone and took the call. From the way her brow furrowed Louis knew it was Levi.
"What do you mean, 'You're not sure?' Either it's chicken pox, or it's not!"
Quite a few people around them turned to look at their table.
"Well, what am I supposed to do? I don't have any more knowledge than you. I'm out with Louis you know tha- I'm sorry that Benji's asking for me, tell him I'll be back tomo- no, don't put him on the phone, I said DO- hiiiii, babyyy, oh are you sick, I'm so sorry."
Even on the other side of the table Louis could make out Benji's hysterical crying. Grace's cooing didn't calm him down. There was only more heartbreaking sobs and brabbled "Mamamma"s. Louis could see Grace's resolve crumble in real time.
She held the phone to her collar to dampen the crying baby sounds somewhat. "Sorry, that's it for me. Playtime's over."
Larry pulled a face and then drawled "Hey, if you ever change your mind..." Grace smiled half-heartedly at him.
Grace packed her purse back up and looked expectantly at Louis. It took him a few seconds to understand that she was waiting for him to leave with her.
He looked at her and said, "I think I'll stay for a little bit." He resolutely refused to look to his left to see Lestat's reaction to any of that. Grace raised her brow at Louis, then glanced at Lestat with a knowing expression.
She shrugged. "I'll text you when I'm home." She turned to leave but spun around one more time."Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She winked at him. Louis stuck his tongue out at her. He heard Lestat chuckle.
Larry didn't even wait until Grace had made it all the way down the stairs before excusing himself with a mumbled sentence neither Louis nor Lestat paid any attention to.
Louis could see the same shift in Lestat, like he had forgotten to think about anything but Louis and was drawn into this same condensed parallel dimension where it was just the two of them.
"So, you still want to dance?" He took a step towards Louis.
Louis grinned. "Yes. And I also want another beer." Lestat was so close to him that he could feel his answering laugh against his skin.
Together they descended the iron wrought staircase. They didn't make it back to the table again.
Notes:
French translations:
Quel dommage = How sad
Comme un beau diable = Like a charming devil/demon
Bien sûr = Of courseif you catch any mistakes, let me know
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Summary:
“No, Louis…” Lestat whined and clumsily pressed his leg into Louis’ back, pushing their hips together. He felt like he would die without Louis’ mouth moving against his own. Louis kept the soft pressure on his chest but dropped his head onto Lestat’s shoulder.
“Fucking hell, let me just open my own front door.” He brushed his right hands across Lestat’s cheek, lifting his face to look up at him. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
____
Louis invites Lestat to stay the night
Notes:
mind the updated tags please! if you want me to add smth feel free to let me know
it's been a week and so I'm back^_^ i cannot believe this story has been clicked so many times, thank you for all the nice stuff you had to say, it really means a lot!
this was my first time writing nsfw as an adult, i put a lot of pressure on myself, but im happy with how it turned out, I hope you enjoy<3French Translations at the end of the chapter
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lestat only realized his mistake when he returned to the table empty handed. Three faces were looking at him accusatory.
“You cannot be serious. You were gone for 40 minutes!” Alex wasn't even trying to hide how pissed off he was. Lestat raised and dropped his arms in a helpless gesture.
“Guys, I really fucked up.”
Tough Cookie breathed out a laugh. “Well, at least you're not denying it.”
“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Larry was looking at him with raised eyebrows.
Lestat only sighed and draped himself across the booth like it was their living room couch, ending up half in Cookie’s lap. She grinned and pulled at his hair. He took another deep breath. “There was this guy…”
A resounding groan from everyone at the table. Cookie was still grabbing his hair and was using it to shake Lestat’s head. Alex wasn't having any of it. “ Please don't tell me you spent the last 30 minutes getting your dick sucked while we were sobering up back here.” He held his hand open. “Give me back the $20 I gave you for the drinks.”
Lestat pulled the crinkled bill from his pocket and pushed it into Alex' palm.
“I went to the bar, I promise.” He shook his head. “But there were like a million people there! And the bartender would just ignore anyone that was older than 20 and didn't have their tits out!”
This made Cookie shriek with laughter and slap the table. “Well, thank god we're in our 30s, I would hate to console you over your pitiful decolletage.” She dissolved into giggles again, hanging her head over the headrest of the bench.
Lestat blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, I'm about to leave, when I see this guy standing next to me and he's getting ignored as well. So of course I had to talk to him.”
“Of course.” Larry rolled his eyes but was looking at him to continue.
Lestat pushed his hair behind his ears. Talking to his friends had broken the dreamlike state he had been in, after getting completely wrapped up in the beautiful stranger at the bar. He felt his heart speeding up again, just thinking about the man standing next to him, smelling his perfume and the first traces of sweat beginning to mingle. Feeling lean muscle through the soft silk of the other’s shirt, when he had his arm wrapped around him, fingers resting on a small waist, how the other man had turned in his hold almost like he was about to push his face into Lestat’s neck… Lestat could feel a goofy smile spread over his face.
“So he turns around and mon dieu . He is.... breathtaking. Beautiful brown eyes, beautiful face. And beautiful tits. I could see them, he was wearing this red shirt with, uhm, holes in it!” “They’re called cutouts.” Larry pointed to his own shirt. “Or tit window, if you’re so inclined.”
Larry had said it to make him laugh, but Lestat was getting lost in his own retelling, like he hadn’t just lived it 10 minutes ago. He licked his lips.
“I had to get out the big guns.”
Cookie's head snapped back up. She groaned.
“No Lestat, what did you say to him…”
Lestat put his hands up defensively. “Why do you have to doubt me at every turn of the tale? He was into me!” He turned around to Larry who was looking at him disbelievingly. “He was all over me! Clinging to me. Giggling and shit.” He felt himself flush just at the memory of the handsome man molding into his side, letting himself be pulled around by Lestat. As if he trusted him on some instinctive level, completely pliant in his hands.
Larry’s loud laughter pulled him back from his reminiscing. He was looking him up and down.
“Well, I don't see anyone clinging to you. Did you lose him on the way here, or?”
In response, Lestat pulled a face. “I told you guys, I messed up.”
Alex stood up. “I thought you were talking about forgetting to get us drinks. But that wasn't even an apology, was it! Of course you would let us wait for 40 minutes, only to come back empty handed and complain about your life!” He was climbing over Larry and out of their booth. “Well, I'll get some actual drinks. See you, Romeo!” He turned around and vanished into the crowd.
The others laughed at his antics but Lestat whined. “Don't laugh, this is serious! I might have just met my soulmate, did something actually cool in front of him, but I was so busy enjoying the moment, that I just let him go! I don't have his number, I don't even know his name!” He put this head on the table. “I will never see him again!”
Tough Cookie was stroking his back empathetically. “It has happened to the best of us.”
Lestat still felt like complaining. “No, never like this! His eyes were so brown and he had dimples when he smiled. And he laughed at my stupid pick up line.” Cookie's fingers drummed on his shoulder blades.
“So you admit it was bad.”
Lestat raised his head to her, ready to make a personally insulting retort, but Larry cut in.
“Don't look now, but could it be that our Romeo's Juliet is over there on the balcony?”
Lestat's head snapped around so fast he actually heard a faint click somewhere in the back of his neck. His eyes followed Larry’s subtly pointed finger and his breath stopped. Sure enough, the beautiful stranger was there. Leaning on a table next to a woman their age, both of them a beer in hand.
Larry turned back around and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Too bad, he's already got company for the night. Well, you can't win 'em all.”
Lestat’s eyes were still glued on the table on the balcony. “That's his sister. He told me she was waiting for him.”
Now, it was Larry's head that snapped around like it was fastened with a rubber band. “Shit, dude, that's the dream! And both are hot, you weren't exaggerating-”
“Hey!”
“Don't get nervous, I'm looking at the sister! Mystery guy is all yours.” Larry slicked his hair back. “Okay, let's go up there - right now.” He made to get up. Lestat scrambled to pull him back into his seat.
“Woah, wait, wait, wait. We can't just go to their table!”
Larry was giving him a knowing look. “I thought he was all over you? Maybe he's searching for you in the crowd, just like you were?” He took Lestat’s hands and pulled him up. “Come on, let’s make his wish come true.”
What could Lestat do but go with him. He wanted to make a snide remark about how cheesy what Larry just said had sounded, but instead he quietly followed him up the staircase, his heartbeat in his throat.
Somewhere around drink three, Lestat got confident enough to put his hands on Louis again. They had been dancing for the better part of the night, at first Lestat had been too mesmerized by Louis' slow sultry movements to really do anything but vaguely wiggle himself. Over time, he had gotten used to the idea of somehow having the attention of the prettiest one at the ball and let himself step closer and closer to the other man.
Alex had gotten over his grudge very fast and called for him when he returned to the band’s booth. Somehow he had smuggled 3 bottles of gas station vodka back into the club and also was willing to share some with Lestat. First, he had to get a jab in, of course. While Louis was clearing his throat and blinking tears out of his eyes, after doing a courageous amount of shots in fast succession, Alex leaned close to Lestat’s ear.
“No clue why he is still hanging around you, can’t be your white boy dancing, that's for sure. Those are the kind of moves you’d see at a David Guetta concert in 2012. Congrats though…”
Most of that went over Lestat’s head, he felt the warm dizziness of the alcohol and even more that of Louis’ proximity, of his willingness to stay close to Lestat, like he was just as helpless to the gravitational pull between them. Quickly after shots entered the drinking rotation, most of the night became a blur.
At one point, Louis smiled at Lestat and told him. “My place isn't that far away.” He was already stepping away from Lestat, in the direction of the club’s exit. Lestat felt a pang at Louis wanting to leave and was wrecking his drunken brain for a way to ask for his number this time. Before he could even make a move, Louis turned back around to him.
“You coming, or what?”
“Ok, we're almost there. You gotta be quiet though.” Louis was grabbing his hand again and looking at him with a gravely serious expression. It only made Lestat giggle and sway on his feet. Louis' face softened as he was starting to laugh as well. He pulled them through a huge iron wrought gate and across a perfectly manicured patch of grass. He saw a big house looming to his left and even caught sight of an outdoor pool. He slowed down.
“Louis, I think your neighbors are rich!” He pulled Louis into his side, so he was looking in the same direction as Lestat. Louis turned Lestat away from the pool and he tried for that overly serious face again.
“Shhh!!”
He was pressing two fingers to Lestat's mouth. It was no use, Lestat was still laughing. Louis rushed Lestat down a small path next to the garden wall.
Lestat was about to protest about Louis hurrying him along like this, but they had made it to a small one story building and suddenly, he found himself being pressed against a wall and being kissed within an inch of his life. Louis' tongue was heavy against his and somehow, he still tasted faintly of the beer Lestat had stolen for him.
He forgot about the pool, he forgot they were in some rich person’s backyard, he might have forgotten his own name. Louis was nice enough to remind him.
“Lestat.” He breathed into his mouth, pressing his forehead into Lestat’s. Lestat didn’t feel like contributing anything to the conversation, he just dove in for another kiss, his nails catching on the lace details of Louis’ collar.
He let his hands glide along Louis’ sides and buried them in the silk shirt, pulling Louis even closer to him. One of Louis’ legs ended up between his and he pushed his hips forward instinctively. He groaned into Louis’ mouth, but didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. Pulling his left leg up and trying to put it around Louis to get a better angle.
One of Louis’ hands dropped to Lestat’s collar bone, brushing along the skin. Reluctantly, Louis broke the kiss, his fast breaths rushing over Lestat's flushed face. His eyes were unfocused and his pupils were completely blown out.
“No, Louis…” Lestat whined and clumsily pressed his leg into Louis’ back, pushing their hips together. He felt like he would die without Louis’ mouth moving against his own. Louis kept the soft pressure on his chest but dropped his head onto Lestat’s shoulder.
“Fucking hell, let me just open my own front door.” He brushed his right hands across Lestat’s cheek, lifting his face to look up at him. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
He tried to step away from their embrace, but Lestat’s legs were wobbling without something to lean on, so he just draped himself over Louis's back instead and started peppering kisses along the back of his neck. “Hm, no, I’m staying here forever.”
He felt Louis’ answering laughter resonate through his own chest, since he was pressed so closely to him. Louis was swaying under him as he was patting down his pockets, until -
“There she issss…” He waved a key triumphantly. Then it took him about three tries to actually unlock the door with said key, not that Lestat was trying to help him, he was content in just humming into Louis neck as his hips started to get restless again.
Finally, the door swung open and Louis and Lestat fell more than they walked into the entryway. Louis turned to him, eyes half open. “Shoes off.”
He looked impossibly beautiful, the stern expression on his elegant face, sharpened by the moonlight. His eyes shimmering, his heavy breathing stretching and releasing the silk fabric and see through lace over his soft brown skin, shiny from sweating all evening.
“Yeah.” Lestat tried pulling him into a kiss again but Louis pushed him back. This time, Lestat actually lost his balance and landed on the floor. Louis crouched down and leaned over him, their chests so close, they touched when both of them were breathing in at the same time. Louis' fingertips were ghosting along Lestat's face, lingering on his lips. In a daze, Lestat’s tongue darted out to coax Louis' fingers into his achingly empty mouth. Louis let him slobber all over his hand but didn't move it between Lestat's lips. After a few moments, his sharp gaze snapped to Lestat’s again.
“I said. Shoes off.” He leaned back on his heels, looking at Lestat expectantly. Lestat’s breathing skipped and his dick throbbed painfully, restrained in his faux leather pants.
Stupefied, Lestat just blinked at him, then he scrambled to unlace his stupidly delicate glittery shoes. Why hadn’t he worn slip ons to the club? Louis was laughing at him again. He gave a teasing cheer. He buried his hand in Lestat’s hair, petting him like a dog.
“Good Job!”
The embarrassingly loud moan that punched out of Lestat thankfully got swallowed by Louis’ mouth on his. Louis was pushing him down on the floor, spreading Lestat’s legs and making room for himself between them. He braced himself on Lestat’s chest and used the leverage to ground his hips into Lestat’s. All too soon, shudders started to wreck Louis’ delicate frame and he let himself drop forward, burying his face into Lestat’s neck. The angle had changed but Louis' hips didn’t stop moving against his. Through his harsh breaths, he continued to talk to Lestat.
“You’re so good at this.” A kiss behind his ear. “Feels so nice.” A soft bite to the side of his neck. “Just like that. Such a good bo-” Lestat’s hands clamped onto his hips, stopping his movement altogether.
“Wait, wait, hold on.” He was panting. Louis giggled into his neck and shifted in Lestat’s hold. Lestat's hips lifted to chase this tiniest amount of friction. He was so hard it was bordering on painful in his tight pants. Lestat hissed. “Please, don’t move right now.”
Louis pulled away from Lestat’s neck, concern clear on his face. “Everything alright?” He cupped Lestat’s face in his right hand. “You don’t feel so good?”
A breathless laugh from Lestat. “Quite the opposite, actually.” He concentrated his focus on the second button of Louis’ silk shirt. He could feel his face heat up.
Louis was still fussing over him, holding a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature, brushing his hair away from his face, until-
“Oh.” He was blushing as well. “You were about to - oh.”
“Don’t laugh.” Lestat still couldn’t look at him.
Louis didn’t laugh at him. Instead, he turned Lestat’s head softly, until he had no choice but to meet his eyes. He smiled at him and turned his head to kiss him again. Softly, unhurriedly.
After a few minutes of making out, Louis pushed himself up again. Slowly, he stood up, then held out his hand to Lestat.
“Come on, let’s not linger in the door.” He giggled at his own bad wordplay. He pulled Lestat up onto his feet. The room was spinning around him and by now, he didn't know if it was because of the alcohol or Louis' scarily accurate guessing of his kinks. Or maybe it was something about Louis himself, how everything he did made Lestat's head swirl and heat spread to the tips of his fingers.
Hand in hand, they padded down a small hallway and then through an open living space, illuminated by the moon light streaming through a large let of ground level windows, their steps soft on the fuzzy carpet.
Louis pushed open a set of rustic looking double doors and they stumbled into a smaller room. The moonlight didn’t reach inside and their eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness. Lestat felt Louis step close to him again and letting his hand brush along the hem of his mesh shirt in a silent question. Without much ceremony, Lestat pulled it over his head and threw it across the room. Louis was hastily unbuttoning his own shirt. Impatiently, Lestat pushed his hand into the gap between the silk and Louis' torso. He felt soft coarse hair that had been somewhat camouflaged by the black lace. He cupped the breasts he had been hungrily eyeing for the last few hours.
As soon as the shirt was all the way off, Louis let himself fall backwards onto the bed and pulled Lestat down with him. He knew he was just staring at Louis’ chest like he had never seen a shirtless man before, but he couldn't help it.
“I’ve been waiting to do this all night.” He sighed and nuzzled his face into Louis' chest. The skin here was’t damp because the lace had let the cool air touch Louis’ tits all night. Lestat plastered the short chest hair onto Louis' soft skin in long broad strokes of his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands were cupping the soft tissue and squeezing at the nipples. Louis let out a tiny mewls and pushed his chest towards Lestat.
Lestat's mouth had licked his way down to Louis's right breast, he bit into it tenderly.
Louis sighed, softly cradling the back of Lestat's head and carefully angled him, so that he could fit more of him into his mouth.
“Ngh, less teeth please…”
Softly humming, Lestat withdrew his teeth and sucked on Louis' tits, gradually increasing the pressure and slowly letting go again. Louis' hand was carding through his hair and he felt his eyelids growing heavy, it was like falling into a trance. Everything fell away, it was like his entire universe began and ended in Louis's embrace. He didn't need to open his eyes because Louis would guide his mouth and hands wherever they needed to go.
“Hm, let's try the other one. I’m getting sore but you’re still hungry, right?”
Before Lestat could even think to move, Louis was helping him detach, softly pressing his fingers to Lestat’s lips until they parted from his right breast. Carefully he shifted Lestat in his hold so that he cradled his head in his left arm now.
In Lestat's mind an image took shape. Louis was nursing him like an infant. A long shudder went through him and he keened needily. Louis shushed him, guiding his lips to his left breast.
“No need to fuss, baby. I’ve got you.” Lestat’s sucking started out urgently this time, but Louis’ cooing and caresses calmed him down, until he was once again drifting in that relaxed state, everything fading away.
The world started to return to him slowly when Louis shifted their position and grinded his clothed erection into Lestat's stomach. His cooing was getting interrupted by breathless moans in increasing frequency. Lestat was still in the process of remembering how to move his head without Louis guiding him, when Louis’ nails dug painfully into his naked back. Louis' breast was released when Lestat grunted in pain. Questioningly, he looked up at Louis.
He was panting and flushed. “I got so close just now.” Louis breathed out. His eyes locked with Lestat’s. “I don't want to come like that. I want you inside of me.”
All thoughts left Lestat's brain, autopilot took over like it had in the entryway. He was frantically pulling the remaining clothes off of himself and Louis. He chucked everything across the room, not caring where it landed, and turned back to Louis, who had reclined against his headboard, arms relaxed above his head, looking at him with half lidded eyes.
“Are you gonna take care of me?” The same soft voice as when he had been cradling Lestat's head close to his chest. Another shudder went through Lestat and finally out of his tight pants, his dick jumped and leaked precum onto Louis’ soft sheets. Louis licked his lips and leaned his head back, letting his legs fall apart, waiting for Lestat to come to him.
Not wasting any time, Lestat let himself drop to his arms and slid up the bed, between Louis’ thighs. The daze that had surrounded him had softened something in Lestat, the part of him that usually would’ve preened at being asked for a show of dominance, making his chest swell and his voice go deeper. Instead he felt as if he was being plucked like an overripe fruit, Louis’ gentle caress guiding him softly to his mouth. He was being kissed by Louis, barely able to participate beyond humming and lazily moving his tongue, no finesse to it at all.
Louis whispered to him. “Make me feel good, Les.” His lips were brushing against Lestat’s again and again while he was speaking. Louis let his hand drop to Lestat’s, linking their pinkies. Lestat wrapped his hand around Louis’, pressing himself closer and trying to catch Louis’ lips again. He could’ve stayed like this forever. Louis let out a frustrated breath. He shifted underneath Lestat, and slowly dragged their joined hands between his legs. They moved through the soft hairs on Louis’ stomach and brushed along the length of Louis’ erection. Still sensitive, Louis couldn’t hold himself back from rutting up against their touch, Lestat felt the wet drag against the back of his hand. Even though the muscles in Louis’ abdomen were already starting to twitch, Louis pushed Lestat’s hand down and away from his dick.
Lestat’s eyes snapped open, suddenly completely awake and present again. His hand slipped right along Louis’ groin and sank into warmth and moisture. He pushed himself up off of Louis’ chest and let his gaze drift to where his hand was. Louis’ entire lap was glistening, the wetness had run down his legs and left spots on the sheets. When he pressed his fingers between Louis’ cheeks, there was no resistance at all, two of them slipping right in. The ring of muscle completely relaxed, like Louis had been opening himself up for Lestat. Louis’ head fell back against the pillows and he moaned obscenely loud. “Yes, please…please!” He didn’t wait for Lestat to move, just grabbing onto Lestat’s wrist, angling his hips and fucking himself with Lestat’s hand as if it was a toy. He looked up from the pillows, locking eyes with Lestat. “Come on, Les. Give it to me.”
Breathlessly, Lestat pushed a third, then a fourth finger into Louis’ ass, finally making Louis hiss at the stretch. Still, Louis kept Lestat's arm in his grip and continued to jam his fingers deep into himself. He took Lestat’s other hand and pulled it back to his breasts, encouraging him to knead at them again. Louis was getting lost quickly, his dick was blurting out pre-come onto his stomach, his hips were raising off the bed to meet Lestat’s fingers even quicker. Lestat was panting like a dog, helplessly grinding his leaking dick into the mattress, when both of his hands were on Louis.
Suddenly, Louis froze up. His face crunched in concentration. “Fuck, almost came again…” He stilled Lestat’s hand. “I don’t wanna. Not without you.” He pulled Lestat’s fingers from himself. Without opening his eyes, he whined, sounded just as wrecked as Lestat felt. “Please, fill me up…”
Lestat peppered Louis’ collar in kisses, softly guiding Louis’ knees further apart so he could scoot forward until the tip of his dick brushed against Louis’ ass. Following his lead, Louis readjusted his position under Lestat, lifting his feet off the bed and wrapping his legs around Lestat’s hips. Louis trailed one hand up and down Lestat’s stomach, catching on his nipples, leaving faint scratches on his way down to his pubic hair, before finally wrapping around his dick. He was moving up and down in featherlight strokes, starving Lestat of any real relief.
Lestat turned Louis’ face to kiss him again and softly pulled Louis’ hand from between them to link their hands on the soft sheets, making Louis spread his arms to either side, effectively pinning him down, while Lestat gained leverage to move against him.
Louis’ legs tightened around his hips and Lestat’s dick caught on Louis's stretched out rim, sending shudders through both of them. Lestat’s head dropped back into Louis’ neck, his hold on Louis’ hands softing. He couldn’t wait to feel Louis stretched around him, to see his dick poke at Louis’ taut stomach from the inside, to lose himself deep inside. Vaguely, he remembered he should reach for something in the pocket of his disregarded leather pants. Right now, they seemed impossible far away at the other side of the bedroom. He forced out the words between harsh breaths.
“Lou, wait….just give me… I have to…”
“Please,now.”
“I will, I will…but need to-”
Louis had stopped listening to him, he was back to coaxing the tip of Lestat’s dick into his entrance without using his hands. Lestat moaned helplessly. With his last bit of remaining brainpower, he somehow gasped out “Con- we need, Louis, a condom.”
Louis let a dismissive sound. “Want to feel you.”
Somehow, his hand had snuck between them. He was grasping Lestat, lining him up. “I’m catholic.” He giggled into the side of Lestat’s neck. This didn’t make too much sense to Lestat, but he was already slowly sinking into Louis, the impossible warmth making his vision fuzz out and the slick running down Louis’ legs making the glide effortless. Louis clenched around Lestat, overwhelmingly tight, making his hips grind down harshly.
Lestat willed himself to stay still, until Louis had adjusted to the size of him, but Louis let out a whine and was already raising his hips in a desperate effort to get him even deeper, using whatever little wiggle room he had. His nails were biting into Lestat’s back and he was keening, tossing his head feverishly between the pillows. His heels were digging into Lestat's ass cheeks, feet crossed behind Lestat’s back, somehow opening himself wider, to take more of him. Lestat’s cock slipped forward into the soft feel of Louis, burning hot around him. It felt so good, Lestat couldn't help but pump in and out a few times, delighting in the wet noises that filled the room. What about this is catholic? He considered how otherworldly Louis felt beneath him. I can work with it, though.
Louis let out a soft moan and tried to angle his hips differently. Lestat caught on and plugged one of the pillows from against the headboard. “Well, Saint Louis, your wish shall be my command.” He pushed himself all the way into Louis again and lifted his hips for him, long enough to put the pillow under his ass. Softly, he laid Louis back onto the bed, his position had only shifted slightly, but when he started moving again, Louis’ moans shifted into a higher pitch and barely seemed able to make room for his desperate breaths. The only thing he seemed capable of saying was Lestat’s name, but even that quickly turned into short gasps of “Les, Les, Les” and then speech escaped Louis entirely. Lestat was more than fine with taking over conversations, bringing his mouth close to Louis's ear so he could make out every word.
His speed was gradually increasing and amazingly, Louis grew even wetter, the room filling with filthy squelching and the slapping of sweat dripping skin. Whenever he felt Louis starting to shake, Lestat would switch his rhythm to deeper harsher thrust, still hitting Louis’ prostate, but not enough stimulation to make him come. When Louis started to get worked up by the slower pace as well, Lestat would switch it up again. For a while, Louis seemed to enjoy this, but after the fourth time Lestat denied him an orgasm, he grew frustrated. He tried guiding Lestat's hips with his feet again but his legs had grown so wobbly, that it was a useless endeavor. He had to endure it until Lestat decided to take mercy on him. He got desperate enough that he started to gasp Lestat’s name again and breathing out high pitched little “please”s. Lestat giggled, getting breathless himself.
“Ma beauté, I haven't had my fill of you yet.” He nosed along Louis’ neck, loving the smell of the last traces of Louis' cologne, almost completely sweated off. “Can you hold on a bit longer for me?” He softly bit at Louis’ adams apple. “You feel better than any pussy I’ve ever had.” Lestat could practically taste Louis’ answering whine, as close as he was pressed to his airway. He was so lost in that nook of Louis, that he didn't register the telling twitching and stiffening beneath him. The sudden wetness between them took him by surprise and it was Louis’ ragged breaths that finally clued Lestat in. He had messed up, Louis had come without him. Carefully he meant to withdraw to finish on Louis’ stomach as well - his hand would have to do. But Louis kept his legs around him and weakly pushed up into him, despite still being wrecked by aftershocks.
“Keep going, please.” He looked at Lestat with huge eyes, his face flushed and gleaming with sweat. Lestat crushed their lips into a kiss that was more spit and moans than anything else and sneaking his arms around Louis’ legs, he pushed himself up to his knees. He was looming over Louis, slowly pushing the other’s legs up until Louis’ knees were touching the sheets next to his ribs. Like this, Louis was almost folded in half, with no way to move himself, completely exposed to Lestat’s whims. Lestat pulled all the way out and immediately forced himself back into Louis. All the air left Louis in a punched out noise, but Lestat continued to speed up his rhythm.
All too soon, Lestat felt the heat coil in his stomach, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated jerks. “Louis, I’m so close.” He stilled his hips, made to pull out but Louis latched on to him, using some unknown strength to lock his feet around Lestat once more, pushing his entire length deep into him. When Lestat looked at him, his eyes were glassy, face flushed, skin gleaming with sweat. “Need it. Need you in me.”
Lestat felt his toes starting to curl. “And you have me, Saint Louis, but you don’t want-” With a surprising amount of strength, Louis pulled Lestat down to him, kissing him desperately. Lestat was shaking with the effort to keep his hips still. He pulled away from Louis, looking into his eyes, to make him see that he wanted nothing more than to stay inside him, but he had to pull out right now, with Louis’ best interest in mind. Louis’ eyes pulled him into the same trance-like state he had felt again and again; getting lost and Louis' arms around him being the only thing that held him together.
“I want all of you.” Louis breathed out, eyes never leaving Lestat’s, stare unblinking. All blood left Lestat’s head. He let himself fall back against Louis, grinding his pelvis in little circles, not even pulling out anymore, burying his head in the crook of his neck, feverishly whispering how good this felt, how beautiful Louis was, how impossible it all seemed to him and, between harsh breaths and long moans, how he was getting close again. The knowledge that Louis asked, begged really, for his come inside of him, knocked something loose in Lestat. Some deep, primal instinct, that made him chase his climax with a single mindedness, because it meant something now, because Louis needed this from him. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, overpowering the wet sounds, the creaking of the bed, their joined moaning. All that remained was the sensations of skin on skin, the unbearable pressure building, the impossible heat surrounding Lestat, nails scratching tingling trails down his back.
The calm in Lestat had switched to desperate urgency, he was panting and whining against Louis. Louis's spent cock was trapped between their bodies, giving oversensitive twitches.
“J’veux rester ici à tout jamais.” He breathed through his teeth latched onto Louis' carotid artery, feeling the other’s fluttering heartbeat against his tongue. There was no way Louis could’ve made out what Lestat had said like this, and still he felt two weak spurts against his sweat drenched stomach, both their abdominal muscles twitching uncontrollably. His mouth unlatched when it opened into a deep soundless moan, or maybe it wasn't soundless at all, Lestat couldn't tell anymore, his vision blacking out briefly. His entire body pulled taut, pressed as close to Louis’ as he could get. The thread snapped, Lestat was coming in long spurts, buried deep in Louis. Around him, Louis was twitching, prolonging his pleasure. It seemed unending, them moving tightly against each other, unable to stop, separating unthinkable. Lestat felt like the shots of cheap vodka had freshly entered his system again, his vision turning blurry, the room swooning around him, until he became unaware of the objects outside of his immediate focus, his world narrowed down to Louis and the soft sheets that moved around them, making soft rustling noises, sticking to their bodies. Even when Lestat’s hips had slowed down, stopped completely, Louis was still clinging to him, whining loudly whenever Lestat made any notion of pulling out. Unpredictably, he would tighten around Lestat, making him grind down instinctively, both of them groaning at the overstimulation.
Dimly, Lestat could recall withdrawing from Louis, only to immediately let himself collapse onto the body beneath him, Louis's and his own come mingling between their stomachs. He was asleep within seconds, his face buried into the crook of Louis's neck. Maybe this way, the intoxicating smell of Louis would follow him into his dreams.
Notes:
French Translations:
mon dieu = my god
ma beauté = my beauty/ beautiful one
J’veux rester ici à tout jamais = I wanna stay here forever
Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Summary:
Lestat leaned forward and looked at Louis eagerly.
"So what's work? Who has to get up early on a Saturday?"Louis was confused. "I work at a gallery. I get to open the vernissage today. They told me I’m going to be responsible for the upcoming showing, that's why we were out celebrating. We talked about it at the bar?"
Lestat rubbed his temples. "I had a lot to drink. Some parts are a bit of a blur." He smirked, looking directly into Louis’ eyes. "But I know we had a good time together." His face blushed a charming pink. “Saint Louis.”
Louis felt his face flush as well. He wanted to look away from Lestat’s gaze but couldn’t. "Yes." It came out a whisper, like something forbidden. Louis shouldn’t have been able to feel shy around Lestat with the flashes of the night that were slowly returning to him. It felt so different in the harsh light of day. The ease with which Louis navigated Lestat’s awkward advances in the bar seemed completely gone today.
----
The morning after last night...
Notes:
Let's get back into it!! I hope everyone had a lovely week:]
I'm done with my exams, so I'm feeling a lot more relaxed tehehe!!A tiny ED tw for this chapter, its just a brief allusion to it in the diner scene, but please take care of yourself!!
As always, feel free to tell me about any tags you would like me to add!
__
since a few people have used it in the comments: using the word 'bum' to describe another person, is very impolite as far as i understand (english isn't my native language, but i have few lovely beta readers on this that help me with dialect and such), so please don't use it about Lestat in this chapter. have all the fun in the world calling him a loser or cringefail i'll be right there to laugh and point at him with you guys
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
No alarm went off, but Louis' internal clock made sure he was awake at 7 am sharp. He blinked a few times into too bright sunlight and decided to keep his eyes closed for a bit longer. Normally he was the type of person to wake up and jump out of bed, ready to start the day, but this morning everything was so nice and warm... It was like his blanket was giving him a comforting hug. Except, that was not his blanket. Someone had wrapped themselves tightly around him. There was a mouth breathing steadily into his neck and when Louis tried to open his eyes again he realized it wasn't the room that was any brighter than usual - he was surrounded by blond hair.
He could feel his heart speed up and his palms starting to sweat. He had to get out of here. Except he was in his own bed, so that wasn't really an option. Testing the wiggle room he had, he tried to loosen the grip of the stranger. When that didn't work, he resorted to "Hey"s and "Are you awake"s but didn't get any reaction. A deep sleeper then.
Finally, Louis got fed up and pushed the other body off of himself. That earned him an intelligible murmur and the stranger burying himself in Louis’ duvet. Being exposed to the cold air of the room made Louis realize he was completely naked and unpleasantly sticky. Oh, shit .
Before any panic could take hold of him, Louis started into action: First, shower. Then, fresh clothes. And then… the guy still snoring away in his bed.
He will be awake by 9, no self respecting adult stays in bed longer than that .
Louis started his morning routine like nothing was out of the ordinary. He stopped in his tracks when he saw himself in the bathroom mirror, hickeys on his neck already turning from red to purple. His hand went to touch them without him even deciding to. It was like an electric current running through him, every hair standing on end, tiny shudders shaking his frame. It took some time until he could tear his eyes from his chest and meet the gaze of his reflection. Cheeks flushed, jaw slack, heavy breaths fogging the mirror up. He willed himself to snap out of it, squeezing his eyes shut, slapping his face. He decided on a cool shower, didn’t want to feel the bruises on his skin anymore. They were still there of course, when he started to towel off, rubbing the goosebumps away.
He looked at the clothes he had brought with himself to the bathroom. The loose fabric of his shirt was supposed to give him a timeless elegance, following the lines of his movements gracefully, for his first time opening a showing. It would also present his entire neck, the same set of canines over and over again, imprints melting together to form a necklace. He would need to wear something else. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he refused to even look into the direction of the bed. He hastily took long steps to the wardrobe and, opting for less skin and more modesty, pulled out a dress shirt with a stand-up collar, wasting no time to put it on. He felt too exposed, half-naked in the same room with the vague shape of another person in his own bed.
Looking back at that almost hidden outline, he could avoid it no longer. He walked around to the left side of the bed. His breath stopped and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. Even with his face half buried into the mattress and his hair messed up from activities Louis didn't want to spend any time thinking about right now, there was no doubt. It was the guy from the club. The one who froze up mid cringy pick up line at the bar but ended up stealing two beers for Grace and him. He remembered Grace getting a call and having to leave, he remembered choosing to stay, he remembered dancing and lots and lots of drinking and tugging the guy into a cab to his place and he remembered - "Wake up, already!" He poked the stranger's ribs. The blond head snapped up.
"Fuck off, Alex, I'm not getting up to do the dishes again. Wash them yourself if you can't wait for me to wake up..." He trailed off when he registered his surroundings. His eyes landed on Louis' face and grew impossibly large. "You're not Alex."
Louis crossed his arms "I'm not. I have to be at work in two hours though, so it's time for you to get going." The other’s gaze was still stuck on his face, lips slightly parted. It felt like he was scolding a toddler. God, this is humiliating .
Bar guy blinked a few times, like he was snapping out of a trance. He slowly sat up in bed and was looking down at his own naked body, carefully tracing one of the scratch marks on his chest. Then he looked to Louis. "Did we?" His eyes were so bright in the morning light. Louis clutched at his pressed dress shirt.
"We did." He couldn't even meet the stranger's eyes.
"Génial!” His voice turned sultry. “Wanna go again?"
Louis' gaze snapped to the other man's face. He had turned his head in question. His expression was completely earnest.
"Like I said, you should leave. I'm already dressed for work." He uncrossed his arms so that the other man could appreciate his demure outfit choice in all its glory. The implied ushering out didn't even seem to register to the blond.
"You want to get breakfast? We could get to know each other."
Louis' mind was reeling. He desperately tried to remember any rude or weird behaviour from last night he could use as an excuse to be an asshole to this guy. All he could recall was laughing and dancing and talking and spinning and kissing and many, many shots. After that, the memories got a bit more blurry, but they painted a clear picture, clothes getting torn off and thrown across the room, skin on skin and a deep voice breathing into his ear.
Suddenly, he also knew the guy's name. "Lestat!"
A bright smile. "Yes! And you're... Louis."
Louis could feel himself blushing. Get it together! "That's me..."
Lestat was already throwing the covers back and Louis was just quick enough to turn around before he saw how the night's activities left the rest of Lestat. He could hear the rustling of clothes. "All good to go!" Lestat entered his field of vision in last night's clothes, now rumpled from spending the night strewn across Louis' bedroom. He was smiling at him again.
Louis' heartbeat stuttered. Is he serious about getting breakfast in a scrunched up mesh shirt? Not that he was complaining about the visuals per se, but still. Stiffly, he walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a long sleeve shirt he had gotten at college, the print so faded, it was impossible to make out any of the letters. He handed it to Lestat.
“So you won't get cold.”
Lestat breathed out a surprised laugh. “It’s June.”
Still, he pulled the shirt over his head, hiding his slightly scratched up torso from view. His hair that he had just finger combed into some semblance of order, was adorably tousled again.
Louis walked out of his bedroom before he could do anything drastic like kissing Lestat or, even worse, reconsider the other’s earlier offer.
They ended up at some diner along Banks Street, halfway to the gallery in the Art District. Louis had never been in here and he also never had to have awkward smalltalk with his one night stand that refused to leave. So it was fair to say he was way out of his depth. Lestat didn't seem to mind carrying the conversation. He was all smiles and excessive hand gestures. How he could be this comfortable was beyond Louis. Sitting there, unshowered in Louis’ old, crumpled sweatshirt. Louis felt a little queasy in the way even tiny amounts of alcohol left you after you hit 30, but he knew Lestat had been drinking for a while when he got there. He had to be at least a bit hungover, right?
Lestat leaned forward and looked at Louis eagerly.
"So what's work? Who has to get up early on a Saturday?"
Louis was confused. "I work at a gallery. I get to open the vernissage today. They told me I’m going to be responsible for the upcoming showing, that's why we were out celebrating. We talked about it at the bar?"
Lestat rubbed his temples. "I had a lot to drink. Some parts are a bit of a blur." He smirked, looking directly into Louis’ eyes. "But I know we had a good time together." His face blushed a charming pink. “Saint Louis.”
Louis felt his face flush as well. He wanted to look away from Lestat’s gaze but couldn’t. "Yes." It came out a whisper, like something forbidden. Louis shouldn’t have been able to feel shy around Lestat with the flashes of the night that were slowly returning to him. It felt so different in the harsh light of day. The ease with which Louis navigated Lestat’s awkward advances in the bar seemed completely gone today.
Through a mouth full of scrambled egg, Lestat started to talk. It seems he couldn’t decide what was more important: Warm food or saying anything that came to his head immediately.
“You’re probably their best salesman! If you looked at me with those beautiful eyes I would say yes to just about anything.” He swallowed the eggs and immediately gulped down half of his tall glass of orange juice. “Wouldn’t even ask about the price. And if you always dress this nice too…” He took another heap of eggs into his mouth.
At first Louis didn’t hear anything apart from Lestat apparently finding him irresistible even in his current conservative get-up, then his brain registered the gist of it. “You sayin’ I don’t have to try at work?”
Lestat hastily swallowed his eggs. “No, not at all! Just that you’re not one of these people that gets all pretentious about art, you know. Acting like they understand the pieces better than the artists that create them. And speaking about it using all those big fancy words and just ranting on and on and still not saying anything, really!” His gestures started to look almost frantic.
Louis ground his teeth. “Well, sorry to disappoint.”, he bit out sarcastically. “That’s what I’m planning to do at the vernissage.” He pushed his plate away. Suddenly he had lost all appetite. It was probably better to eat nothing ahead of his opening speech either way. God forbid he would show up with ketchup stains on his shirt with nothing to change into.
Lestat seemed to realize he had misstepped and dropped his eyes back to his food. His left hand was nervously drumming on the table. All of his grandeur and confidence was gone. Louis took mercy on him.
“What do you do for work? I guess you don’t just steal beers from unattentive bar keepers?”
Lestat giggled. “No, I’m actually swamped these days. You see, I’m what they call in America - a rockstar.” He started cutting his pancakes, still smiling.
Louis was dumbfounded. Sure, he was offline but there was no way… How embarrassing would it be to admit to this guy he never heard of him until last night? - Well, Lestat had made fun of his job too. “I’ve never heard of you, sorry.”
Again, Lestat was laughing. “How could you, I’m still working on my debut album!”
Louis felt completely lost. “How can you be a rockstar when you have no music out?”
“Confidence is the key to success! In my heart, I know I’m destined for the stage.” Lestat gave a carefree shrug. “The people will love me! So my first album has to be perfect! I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I will be celebrated from day one.”
Louis could feel his face contort in confusion despite his best efforts to appear neutral. “It’s awesome that you make music, but what’s your day job? How are the bills getting paid?”
“Oh, that’s not really a problem for me. I’m here illegally, so I don’t have to pay any taxes. No rent either, the place where I’m staying belongs to the uncle of one of my bandmates. They don’t have the money to do the renovations needed to rent it out so we can stay there for free.” Lestat was saying all of this like it was some ingenious business strategy. Louis was starting to feel faint.
“What about groceries and stuff, though… please, don't tell me you actually always steal your beer.”
Lestat made a dismissive gesture. “I have some money to spare. When I was 17 I got attacked by a pack of wild wolves. Must’ve been like seven or eight of them. Got pretty nasty…” He traced the scar at the corner of his mouth absentmindedly. “It happened to me on territoire national, so they had to pay me out or my dad would’ve sued. Made 20 k before even turning 20! How is that for you, Mr. Tailored Silk Shirt for breakfast.” He was laughing again. “With that money I could move to Paris and then I decided to hop across the pond. Right now, I have about… 900$ left. So that should last me… another five years or so?” He shoved four pieces of bacon into his mouth at once.
He cannot be serious. Louis honestly didn’t know if was more worried for himself, for ever being attracted to Lestat, or for Lestat, who seemed to be completely serious about his financial plans.
Lestat kept talking, licking bacon fat off his fingers. “You know what would be hysterical?” He interrupted himself. “Oh, this bacon is amazing, by the way. You want a piece?” He offered Louis his loaded fork. Louis’ face scrunched up in disgust.
“I don’t eat pork.”
Lestat shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He took another mouthful from his fork and swallowed.
“Anyway, like I was saying: It would be so funny if you snapped at some super rich customers one day! Just say to them: ‘Either you buy something or get out.’ Like they do when you linger in stores too long. God, just imagine the look on their face!” He started giggling hysterically.
Louis felt actually annoyed by him at this point. “Well, I don’t own the gallery, so, no, I don’t think I can just insult visitors, because that’s what they are, visitors who come to enjoy art on display, only some people can afford to buy pieces.”
Lestat had stopped laughing and was looking at Louis, embarrassment clear on his face. Later on, Louis could admit he had probably only said it to keep the conversation flowing, but right now, it felt like another slight on his work, like he had had to endure from his mother and Tom for years. He was so tired of hearing that his efforts wouldn’t amount to anything or that he only did the bare minimum. He thought of Lily’s smug expression yesterday morning and let all his held back emotions out on this unsuspecting man having the world’s most awkward breakfast with him - even if Lestat didn’t know it himself.
“And just for your information, despite gettin’ treated like shit every single day for the past two years, I made it, ok? Finally moving out of that shoebox two person office and getting one all on my own! Oh, Lily was so mad, but she been pressed since I started this fuckin’ job when I never even did anything to her! Can’t wait to pass her on that 20 year old computer every morning, telling her where to move stuff, who to call and what appointments to cancel.”
He was breathing hard, by the time he was done. He felt his heartbeat in his throat.
Lestat looked at him wide-eyed, and barked out a short laugh. “Putain, Louis! I didn’t take you to be so cutthroat!”
Louis didn’t want to think about whether he was cutthroat . He had tried to forget how bad he had felt for Lily, even if it had been just for a few seconds. He didn’t want to consider why Tom had given him the new office and raised salary instead of her. It probably was because he was better at his job.
Louis was halfway out of his chair, silently praying for cash as he dug through his wallet, not even remembering the last time he hadn’t paid by card. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when his fingers brushed a few bills. "Breakfast’s on me," he said, tossing the money onto the table. ”I’on wanna be late to work.”
“Hey Louis, before you go! Give me your number so we can meet up again. This was fun!” Louis made the mistake to look back at Lestat. He was wearing the same earnest expression as he had this morning in Louis’ bed. And why were his eyes so blue?
This time, Lestat broke their eye contact and looked off to the side. “I really enjoyed last night.” He looked back at Louis and a small smile took over his face. He was starting to blush. “And I don’t want you to be late to work, but I also want to see you again. Is that ok?”
Louis was feeling hot all over. What was he even supposed to say to that? He started to search his pockets again. “Here, I’ll give you the gallery’s card. I only have one cell for private and business calls, so that’s my phone number on there in the back. See where it says ‘Customer Inquiries’?”
Lestat’s and his fingers brushed when he took the card and Louis' heart jumped. Lestat seemed a little dazed as well, looking intently at the cardboard in his hand.
Louis took about 10 seconds to formulate his next sentence. “And how can I reach…you?” Lestat blinked.
“Oh, right! Bon, I don’t really have a phone right now. Mine broke 3 months ago and I didn’t want to waste money on a new one. You can call the house’s landline and ask for me.” He froze for a millisecond and then put his hands out like he had to physically stop Louis from doing just that exactly this second. He exhaled like he had sidestepped a major disaster at the last possible moment. “No, don’t do that, actually!” He snapped his fingers. “You know what: Just send me an email, I check it daily for business reasons…It’s ‘[email protected]’.” He looked around their table. “ Oh, do you have something to write that down on?”
Louis couldn’t hide his disbelief. Completely stunned, he handed Lestat a ballpoint pen from his suit pocket. Lestat considered which of the napkins on their table was cleanest. Carefully, he wrote out his email, surprisingly neat, his mouth softly sounding out the letters. For a moment, Louis just watched him. Lestat’s shoulders were broader than his, so Louis’ shirt wasn’t really oversized on him. Still, his hands were being swallowed up by the long sleeves. Louis found his voice again.
“You have a custom mail address.”
Lestat nodded, not looking up from the napkin. “Yes, for the band.”
Louis blinked at him. “Your band is called Lestat. That’s just your name.”
“Well, I’m not a vampire.” Lestat shrugged. “So no, it’s not just my name.” He pressed the napkin into Louis' hands, together with the pen.
Louis frowned, but put both in his pocket. “Are there other people in the band called Lestat?”
“No, only me.”
Louis took a long breath and turned to actually leave this time. “Alright…Well, I really have to leave now.”
And just like that Louis was halfway to the door. Lestat was calling after him before his brain even registered his mouth was open.
“Thank you for breakfast Louis, I really enjoyed it! Let’s do it again sometime!”
Louis didn’t turn around to see Lestat awkwardly stretched out of the breakfast booth waving enthusiastically, like Louis was leaving on a cross country hiking trip. And maybe that was for the better.
When the door closed behind Louis, Lestat sank back into his seat. He had been so hungry, couldn’t even stop eating when talking to Louis. Now, the eggs tasted bland and he realized everything had gotten cold long ago. Still, unlimited breakfast was unlimited breakfast and he had just about 20 minutes left. Maybe I should ask for a take away box?
Notes:
French Translations:
Génial = Awesome
territoire national = national territory
Putain = Damn (in this instance at least, it's pretty universal)
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Summary:
You got this, Louis! There’s more than stupidly beautiful Frenchmen in this world!
The stranger stepped next to him and subtly nodded his head. “Hello.”
A soft french accent. There is no fucking way. Louis forced a smile onto his face.
“Hello.” He realized he should say something more. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
An almost inaudible chuckle. “You couldn’t possibly have.” He raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture. “I’ve only just moved here from Paris.”
Just like Lestat! Louis' mind supplied helpfully.
-----
Louis and Lestat's lives move on but have they?
Notes:
Didn't menage to post this yesterday, I thought AO3 had a queue function... I ended up not really being home this friday. So its a saturday update! dw tho, we're staying on schedule!
no new trigger warnings this chapter, just a bit of build up!
i hope you guys enjoy:]
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was well past noon when Lestat made it back home. He had walked all the way from mid-city to the West Bank, the sun beating down on him. Still, he hadn't taken off the borrowed shirt, breathing in the scent of Louis' laundry detergent with every step of the way. It smelled just like his bedsheets had. If he used his imagination, he could almost make out Louis' wooden cologne that had surrounded him when he woke up this morning.
Walking down the neat streets of the residential area, passing all the charming family homes, children on bicycles swerving around him on the pavement. Finally, he made it to the band's house, his hair plastered to his neck with sweat. He could already feel the prickling of a building sunburn on his face. Their lawn was patchy as it always was in the summer because none of them bothered to water it. There was no car in the driveway. Hopefully, that meant at least some of his roommates were out.
He was planning on quietly sneaking into his room and sulking for a little while, but he was greeted by multiple people when he stepped into the kitchen.
“Look whose made it back! And in last night’s clothes too… You look a little flushed there, had a good time?” Tough Cookie crossed her arms in a mocking imitation of a strict parent waiting for him at the doorstep to check his breath for any traces of alcohol, not that Lestat had ever been in that position. Gabrielle couldn’t have cared less. And his dad had never been home anyway.
Not feeling like letting her know that the redness on his face and hands was more sunburn than flush, Lestat stuck out his tongue and pulled Louis’ shirt up to show off the faint scratch marks down his torso.
Tough Cookie made a show of raising her hands to her face and letting out an exaggerated gasp. “This isn’t how I raised you!”
Lestat raised his eyebrows at her. “Isn’t it?”
That made Tough Cookie seemingly upset. “Hell no!” She pointed behind her at the kitchen table. Next to a very hungover Larry, sat the person Touch Cookie had been making out with all night at the club, wearing an old DIY Satan's Night Out shirt. They gave a relaxed wave and went back to their cereal. “See, this is how you treat an overnight guest, made them breakfast and everything”
Lestat held up his plastic container full of all you can eat breakfast leftovers. “Guess what I just did.”
That actually seemed to shock Tough Cookie. She noticed something else when she looked at Lestat’s hands. “Wait. Are you wearing his shirt…” He couldn't stop the wobbly smile spreading on his face. Crossing his arms, burying his fingers in the worn fabric. Letting Louis’ scent wrap around him, the memory of a soft embrace. Why had Louis been up and fully dressed already when Lestat woke up…He wanted to spend the morning pressing his face to Louis' warm skin. Tough Cookie’s eyes were huge. “Oh, Les…You like this guy!” Lestat’s face went tellingly red.
Larry seemed to awake from his comatose state, looking over to them. “No shit, Tough Cookie, you should’ve seen him freeze up yesterday. Dude just full-on blue screened.” He threw his head back laughing but winced in pain and turned back to his breakfast with carefully slow movements.
Tough Cookie just rolled her eyes at him.“Can you not talk like a Matrix character at breakfast?”
“I don’t mind.” Her guest piped up.
Breathing out a long-suffering sigh, Tough Cookie sat to their right. She leaned on the table and rested her face against her palm. This way, Lestat could see the almost wondering expression, the way her eyes were glued to the person next to her, completely forgetting to tease Lestat about his pitiful state. I'm not the only one in trouble after last night.
Lestat let himself fall onto the chair next to them. “Doesn’t matter anyways, I don’t think it’ll happen again.” He put his hand into the box and swallowed a handful of dry cereal.
Tough Cookie looked at him in disgust. “You guys are trying to make me look bad, right? Please don’t tell me you’re actually like this…” Larry made an offended sound but didn’t try to raise his head again.
“It’s cool Cookie, I think they’re chill.”
“Glad you think so.”
Lestat’s jaw dropped. Larry hadn’t even caught it, so it had to be him that repeated: “... Cookie ?”
Immediately, Tough Cookie’s head snapped towards him. “ Don’t call me that.”
“They just di-”
“Well, there’s lots of things Xen gets to do that you can only dream of.” She smiled at him cheekily. Lestat’s let out a huge breath. There’s just no winning today.
Tough Cookie seemed to realize he wasn’t in as good a mood as one ought to be after spending the night with someone. She turned towards him, keeping one arm around the back of Xen’s chair. “So what happened?”
Lestat’s mouth was still full of bits of dry cereal. Little bits of sweetness stuck between his teeth. “We went to his.” He used his tongue to pull a sugary crumb free, swallowing it. “We fucked. I stayed over.” A stupid smile on his face. “We had breakfast together.”
“And?”
Lestat shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. “He left. I mean, he had work.”
Xen leaned forward in their chair, blocking Tough Cookie from his view. “He’ll be back for more.” They gave him a thumbs up while Tough Cookie made gagging noises. “Don’t say that to him! You don’t know about this guy’s ego…”
Lestat didn’t know about his ego right now, either. He could feel the smile fading from his face, tears already gathering in the corners of his eyes. So stupid to get this worked up… “I’m not so sure…He really didn’t seem to like what I was putting out there.”
Xen was still looking at him. “What were you ‘putting out there’?”
Lestat shrugged again. “Just making conversation. But he didn’t think any of my jokes were funny and he was kinda arrogant too!” He could feel the bitterness rise to the surface. The sting of undeniable rejection was still fresh. “He was super mean about me being in a band-”
“He was not. ”
“He was! Asked me what my real job was!”
Tough Cookie and Xen looked at him with compassion. “What does he know anyway.”
“He’s like a real adult. Works a fancy job in a gallery, was telling me all about how important he was! Even his colleagues hate him! He told me that himself!”
Xen blew a raspberry. “Sounds lame as hell.”
Lestat pulled a face. “He really wasn’t!” The immediate need to defend Louis in their eyes, even though he was probably never going to see him again. “We had such a good time, it all came so easy,” He continued talking over Tough Cookie’s renewed gagging noises. “…The way he was talking about art… maybe I should visit him at work…” The gallery's address was in the Art District, he could probably walk there from the studio.
“Do not do that!” Tough Cookie slammed her palm on the table, making Larry wince again. “He left you mid breakfast. No way you’re running after him !”
Xen piped back up again. “Cookie’s right, he needs to do some apologizing! And when he does, let him grovel a bit,” they curved their fingers into claws, twisting their face into an exaggerated grimace. “Let him get real nervous.” They laughed like a 90s cartoon villain. Tough Cookie’s eyes went wide, a slight blush on her face suddenly.
“Shit, let me make sure I’ll never make you upset.” Xen giggled and put her head on Tough Cookie’s shoulder.
Tough Cookie rolled her eyes but eventually said “We all know how it goes with you, Lestat. The guy will 100% call because for reasons outside of my understanding, your dick has magical powers or something. By then, you’ll be busy with someone else, though.” She smiled at him, probably meaning this to be uplifting.
Still, the conversation had made Lestat feel better. They’re right. There’s no way he won’t be back for more.
Louis was ready to never see Lestat again in his life. Which was why he definitely wasn’t spending the remaining time until the vernissage thinking about him. That would be stupid as hell, remembering how Lestat’s hair had smelled like flowers in full bloom or how long his eyelashes were, instead of going over the speech he was about to hold.
He did have a lot of time this morning. He had left Lestat at the diner maybe 30 minutes into their full hour of all you can eat breakfast, power walking back to his car. And this had left him with almost an hour until Lily would get here. If talking with Lily seemed like the better option than sitting alone in his own office, things were really dire.
He had just finished a practice run of his speech by the time he heard the bell over the gallery’s entrance. He watched three more minutes creep by on the clock and then got up and meandered down the corridor to his old office.
“Mornin’, Lily!”
She looked surprised to see him. “Aren’t you in a nice mood this morning! Were you out celebrating?”
He felt his stomach drop. Shoving all things Lestat to the side resolutely, left him only with this weird feeling about Lily. He wanted to say something about their last conversation but he couldn’t even begin to think what that could be. A few seconds of silence passed.
“Actually, I was wondering if all the flyers are unpacked yet? You know, for the crossover event in August?” No, actually it wasn’t a good idea to be alone with Lily, better send her away.
Lily looked at him with large eyes. “Did you not check them yourself?” She seemed to remember their new standing and her face grew carefully blank. She got out of her chair and walked stiffly towards the door. She turned around and smiled at him, but it was more like a grimace.
“I will take care of it right now. ” And she was gone.
Louis dragged himself back to his own office and didn’t come out until about ten minutes before people were set to arrive.
The actual opening speech passed in a blur, he was so nervous he felt out of his body for most of it. After some polite applause, people started to wander the gallery floor. This was Louis’ favourite part of these events, when he actually talked to the guests, like he would on any normal work day. And it didn’t hurt that today he got to tell people about his new job position. Quite a few patrons were genuinely elated, saying they always knew Louis would end up running things with Tom. Louis was suddenly glad that Lily was back in the office, catching up on paperwork. Still, he had ended up in the same spot he would've stood at if it had been Tom holding the speech, next to the sideboard with the artbooks, announcements and the neat piles of flyers Lily had put on there. Once again, thoughts of his co-worker filled his head. Only, they weren’t co-workers anymore, Lily was his subordinate now. And already on the first day, he had dangled it over head, without even really meaning to. He just felt frustrated , not even really sure about what, exactly. It wasn’t like he regretted leaving Lestat at the diner. It would never work out between us. We’re way too different. And I, for one, am really glad I’m nothing like him.
Absent-mindedly, he let his eyes wander across the gallery. The air was turning stale in the way it quickly did when the odors of far too expensive perfumes mingled with the garlic breath caused by the fancy hors d'oeuvres.
Louis was on his way to step outside for a cigarette, when he saw him. He was struck by the quiet elegance of the man. He looked out of time, sculpted and polished in his tailored brown suit. Louis felt like he was looking at a statue, chiseled into expensive stone and smoothed down with care until a soft glow seemed to emanate from underneath the smooth skin. It felt almost wrong to even look at him, like it shouldn’t be possible to perceive such pure beauty. But the man wasn’t made out of stone. In fact, his movements were fluid and graceful when he turned his head. His eyes landed on Louis. Slowly, he started in his direction. There were goosebumps running down his arms and he could feel himself sweating into the collar of his dress shirt. You got this, Louis! There’s more than stupidly beautiful Frenchmen in this world!
The stranger stepped next to him and subtly nodded his head.
“Hello.”
A soft French accent. There is no fucking way. Louis forced a smile onto his face.
“Hello.” He realized he should say something more. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
An almost inaudible chuckle. “You couldn’t possibly have.” He raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture. “I’ve only just moved here from Paris.”
Just like Lestat! Louis' mind supplied helpfully. This was different though. And now that he listened closely, he could make out the differing enunciations in the two accents. This man sounded more clinical, where Lestat had swallowed his vowels and dragged some of the consonants.
Remembering he should be impressed by this information, he made a show of raising his brows. “That’s a long way from home!”
The other man’s face remained neutral. “I was drawn here by the arts.”
Louis tilted his head teasingly. “I think they have art in Europe too.”
Again, the other man breathed a barely there laugh. “Oh no, not plastic arts! Or rather, not primarily. I curate collections for chosen clientele. There’s some promising new voices coming from America, so interest has sent me over here for the moment.”
A voice in the back of his head, sounding suspiciously like Tom. That sounds like a lot of money! Louis shoved it aside. “Sounds…official.”
A polite smile and a soft shake of his head. “I assure you, it’s not all that impressive.”
Louis was at a loss what to say. He didn’t want to immediately contradict the stranger but that statement had effectively ended the conversation they had been having. Aren’t French people supposed to never stop talking? Lestat certainly never did! He really hadn’t. No matter how drunk they had gotten, how out of breath, even when Louis hadn’t been capable of more than high staccato moans, Lestat had been brabbling an increasingly nonsensical fusion of English and French into his neck. Don’t think about THAT right now! He could feel his cheeks heating up. You have the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen talking to you, how are you thinking of anyone else? He straightened his back and was about to strike up a new topic of conversation, when the other man spoke first.
“Would you be amenable to having dinner with me?”
Louis was flabbergasted. How had they gotten here ? He chose to make the blush on his face all about this stranger. This man was so beautiful and it was like he had sensed Louis’ eyes on him and despite their stilted conversation, Louis was obviously deeply compelling to him. Why are you trying to find fault in this? If he was honest with himself, he had a pretty good idea why he felt like he was watching the entire thing happening from an outsider’s perspective. But he wasn’t being honest with himself right now. So he stepped closer to the stranger and smiled.
“Sure, why not.” A surprised laugh left him when he realized. “I’m Louis, by the way.” He stretched out his hand.
The other man smiled back at him. “Armand.” He softly grasped Louis’ hand. His skin was as smooth as it had looked from afar. Not like Lestat’s callusedhands, probably from some kind of instrument, the guitar maybe? Louis blinked.
Armand pulled a business card from his suit pocket. “Simply call me, whenever you get the time. I’ll make all the arrangements.” A shy smile on his face, maybe the first real one since they started talking. “Do you like Italian food?”
Notes:
No French (or any other language) this chapter!
Chapter 6: Chapter 6
Summary:
He let his eyes run up and down Armand, his perfectly tailored suit, a deep blue tonight, with polished golden buttons, his meticulously styled hair and the hint of kohl under his eyes, or maybe his bottom lashes just gave that effect naturally.
Neither one of them made any effort to ease the stilted nature of the meeting. They stayed within carefully polite small talk. When their waiter set down two glasses of the wine Armand had chosen for them, they each nipped at it but still the tension didn’t let up.
Louis wondered if Armand was waiting for him to steer the atmosphere into a certain direction. But at this point, he felt sluggish, his thoughts rising slowly within him and were hard to separate from each other. He had not tried any more of the wine and instead took big gulps of the water on their table. He only had to make it through dinner, then he could go home. Unless. He swallowed dryly. Unless Armand expects more from this evening.
----
Louis takes up Armand's offer to have dinner - What could possibly go wrong?
Notes:
MIND THE NEW TAGS PLEASE!!
this is the part of the story where we get into disordered eating and body image issues, if you are sensitive about these topics, please take caution when reading this chapter.
There is also multiple instances of vomiting this chapter, it is nothing I describe in detail, but again, please take care!
Ok, as usual, a new chapter on Friday - and this one finally reveals what this story will be all about (yes, we had 6 chapters of build up, but didn't we also have funnnn), hope you're as excited as I am about it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Louis woke up feeling tired. Fighting to keep his eyes from dropping closed again, he swayed on his way to the bathroom. A sudden dizziness made him switch to cold water mid-shower, it had to have been the steam making his head spin. The cold water on his face did help him wake up, even if he was shivering all over when he stepped back outside the shower.
He hadn’t been sleeping well for days now, but he had to be at the gallery by noon, for a meeting with Tom, who had been away on vacation for two weeks. Louis had been handling all of the logistics for the upcoming exhibition, on his feet all day, glad that at least Lily was there with him, otherwise none of the incoming pieces would've ended up in their proper places. The lack of sleep had Louis dizzy and sluggish most days, his arms growing weak after carrying a slightly larger canvas up the stairs because Tom had booked the movers for the wrong day again. Now he was hoping that Tom would actually be at the gallery for more than two hours at a time. There was no way Louis could admit to being overwhelmed with the first event he had to organize in his new position, it would have to be Tom himself that offered to take over some of the workload. Maybe all of this was part of some test of his boss to see how he could handle pressure?
And after work, he was having dinner with Armand. He had told Grace about it at the last possible moment, when she asked for his schedule for the next few days. “I’m busy tomorrow, I’m meeting someone.”
Grace looked surprised for a second, then gave him a teasing smile. “Oh? I thought you didn't want to see Le-”
Louis hurried to stop her before she could say the name they were both thinking anyway. He shook his head resolutely. “No, someone else. Met him at work.”
Grace leveled him with a deeply unimpressed look. Louis had expected her to bombard him with a million questions, so he just started to tell her about Armand as if she had asked.
“I caught his eye at the vernissage. He invited me out to dinner.”
Her brows furrowed. “You wanna go?”
Louis quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. “I think so.” He couldn't fully understand Grace's reaction, why was she not excited about another man in his life, instead choosing to borderline interrogate him about someone he hadn't even gone out with yet.
Again, Grace made a strange face. “Is it a date?”
Louis shrugged, tried to come off nonchalant. “I’m not sure, honestly.”
Grace looked at him with big eyes. “What do you mean you’re not sure ?” She put her hands on her hips. “Did he force you to give him his number?”
Raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “No, nothing like that.” He licked his lips. “These things can get complicated. He might be interested in buying something from the gallery’s collection and wanted to discuss it in an informal setting.”
“Don’t make it sound too romantic now.” Grace rolled her eyes.
Louis put up a hand to stop her from saying any more. “Or it could be a date.” He crossed his arms with more confidence than he felt. He could see Grace considering if she was going to say whatever was on her mind, against his wishes. She took a deep breath and looked at him, carefully neutral. “Well, what are you gonna wear?”
For a moment, Louis’ mind went to the red silk shirt in the back of his closet. The one with the lace cutouts. It had certainly reached some results last time he had worn it. Some of the lace on the collar was fraying from where Lestat’s nails had gotten caught when they were kissing. It had been almost two months since then. Louis reached for a different shirt.
When he put on a pair of neutral black pants for work, he frowned. The normally loose material was bulging unflatteringly on his inseam. Had they run in? Louis felt a familiar sense of nausea creep up his throat. I’m sure they did. He pulled out the same sleek black belt he always wore with the pants, even if there was no danger of them slipping down his hips right now. When he tried to put the latch through the worn-in hole, his heart stopped. The belt was too tight to close. He moved the latch to the next lole and lopped the belt successfully. On shaky knees he stepped into his bathroom, pushing his hand underneath the cupboard under the sink, blindly feeling around for the digital scale. Then he remembered how he had given his to Grace and had promised to not get a new one for himself. He could hear Grace’s voice. Nothing that thing can show you will make you feel any better about yourself, Lou. He really needed to know right now, but what inconspicuous reason did he have to ask Grace for it back? All he could do for now was study his body from all angles in the full length mirror in his bedroom. He knew mirrors were even less reliable than scales though, he knew it was his mind playing tricks on him when he kept brushing his hands down his sides to feel for lumps of flesh where there hadn't been any yesterday. Suddenly he felt he shouldn't breathe out fully, too afraid to see how far his stomach would expand.
When he had finally made it over to the main house, his mission was further derailed when Grace got the twins to bully him into eating two and a half pancakes, when he already couldn’t fit his belt around himself and was close to ripping his favorite pants at the seams. He couldn’t say that to his baby nieces, though. So he shoveled the fluffy sugar bombs in his mouth, the imported maple syrup burning on his tongue like acid, feeling sick to his stomach. And then he had to drag his tired body to the gallery on time, all the while agonizing about what the digital face of his old scale would have displayed.
He passed Lily’s office at 11:47, completely out of breath, sweat running down his neck, surely marking the back of his dress shirt. Now, he would’ve had to keep his jacket on. His heartbeat had slowed back down in time for the meeting at 12:30, but he still felt hazy and feverish, maybe he was really coming down with something. He had to sit down on one of the chairs in Tom’s office when waiting for him, his legs had felt so weak. The hand of Tom’s minimalist clock had almost reached one when his boss strolled into the office, face freshly sunburned, suit jacket slung over his arm. “Olá Louis, it’s good to be back!”
Louis tried for a smile, hoping it didn't look as much of a grimace as it felt like. Carefully, he forced himself to stand back up. He shook Tom’s hand after discretely whipping away the sweat that had gathered in his. “Did you have a good time?”
“Boy, did I ever!” Tom smoothed down his dress shirt and puffed out his stomach, slapping it goodnaturally. “Look at this!” He turned back to Louis. “I don’t have to tell you though, seems like you let yourself go a little bit at home too.” He looked pointedly at Louis' hips. Louis' head was spinning. So everyone can see how you've gotten fat. He swallowed, then forced out a choked up laugh.
“Yeah, seems like it.”
Tom hadn't noticed the shift in his mood, still chuckling. “Don’t worry, you always lose the pounds in no time in the summer.”
“Excuse me for a moment, please.” He was out of the office before Tom could even give a polite answer. He could feel the telltale tightening of his stomach muscles, the fluttering in his throat. He had barely closed the bathroom door behind himself, when he was throwing up his breakfast into the sink. At least the pancakes had made their way outside before the sugar could seep through the lining of his stomach and do too much damage. Louis dutifully wiped down the sink and washed his face, even using his finger like a makeshift toothbrush to clean his gums. He suddenly felt lighter. On the way back to Tom, he felt almost normal again.
In the end, Louis had to rush to his dinner with Armand. It had quickly become clear in the meeting with Tom that his boss wasn’t planning on overseeing much of the preparations at the gallery. He informed Louis that he would be away for most of the next two months on a ‘talent scouting’ trip, whatever that meant. Most importantly for Louis, it meant that it would fall on him alone to manage the huge shipment arriving from Europe mid-September. So he had stayed long after the gallery had closed for visitors for the fourth time this week.
To Louis’ surprise, Tom had also told him of the artist’s plan to be at the exhibition opening herself, even though she was known to be elusive, moving around the globe constantly for the last 30 years. Apparently, she was very particular about having her works displayed just how she envisioned it, not trusting anyone but herself to ensure exactly that. Louis wasn’t sure if this put pressure on him to meet those expectations or if he actually felt some kind of bizarre relief because it didn’t seem that he was being deemed particularly incompetent, just general mistrust in anyone that wasn’t the artist herself.
He was still mulling over it by the time he parked on Camp Street, just outside of the French Quarter. When Louis got out of his car, he looked at his warped reflection in the driver's window for a moment. Running a hand down his front, feeling for any bulges in the usually clean line of his silhouette. Nothing. Still, his clothes felt restraining around him, like they were pulled tight at the seams, sticking to his skin with long dried sweat. Louis turned from his car to walk down the street where he could see Armand waiting for him, dressed in a well made suit again, just like the one he had worn at their first meeting at the gallery.
The restaurant was Italian but in a fancy way, where Louis knew almost none of the dishes on the menu. He didn't want to come off too glutinous, so he should probably order something vegetarian. Then again, the Italians loved to drench everything in olive oil. Louis could feel his belt dig into his side, already one latch wider than he would usually wear it. An entree will probably be enough. Just the thought of more food had his stomach turning again. Bruschetta? I know Bruschetta . Armand ordered something as well, the name of the dish escaping Louis immediately. The server left them alone again.
The atmosphere at the table was oppressing, Louis could feel little beads of sweat building on his forehead. He hadn't had the time to get nervous about the meet up beforehand, but now the limbo of undetermined intentions took the air out of an already stifling room. Louis had to be delicate about this, not wanting to insult a business oriented art collector nor a potential romantic interest.
He had been sure he would have been able to make out Armand’s reason for asking him to dinner as soon as he saw what outfit he'd chosen for their dinner. The other man was dressed to the nines, but so had he been at the gallery. And there was no way he could have known they would meet there. Unless he wasn’t after Louis at all and this was just his way of demonstrating a put together front while they argued about the selling price of a piece some client of Armand wanted for their private collection. It would also be the first time Louis had to navigate a situation like this without falling back on having to ask Tom before he decided anything. As an official partner to Tom, he could conduct business however he wanted.
He let his eyes run up and down Armand, his perfectly tailored suit, a deep blue tonight, with polished golden buttons, his meticulously styled hair and the hint of kohl under his eyes, or maybe his bottom lashes just gave that effect naturally.
Neither one of them made any effort to ease the stilted nature of the meeting. They stayed within carefully polite small talk. When their waiter set down two glasses of the wine Armand had chosen for them, they each nipped at it but still the tension didn’t let up.
Louis wondered if Armand was waiting for him to steer the atmosphere into a certain direction. But at this point, he felt sluggish, his thoughts rising slowly within him and were hard to separate from each other. He had not tried any more of the wine and instead took big gulps of the water on their table. He only had to make it through dinner, then he could go home. Unless. He swallowed dryly. Unless Armand expects more from this evening. What would Tom say if he found out Louis had angered this guy who represented multiple wealthy European art enthusiasts…He didn’t even want to think about it.
Still, when he saw the server approach their table with their food, he knew he couldn’t let it all hang open in the air any longer. He waited until all plates had been set down. They had gotten a side serving of bread which looked ridiculous with the bruschetta. Armand had chosen a seafood dish. There was an entire fish on his plate, still intact with its silver gilts catching the light from the opulent chandelier above them. It sat atop a delicate construct of colorful vegetables. Louis couldn’t look away when Armand began dissecting the fish with practiced movements. Its empty eyes gleaming with the movement of the knife. Suddenly, the fluttering of his stomach turned into violent twists. He felt like he was actually going to be sick. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths but that only filled his lungs with the salty smell of the fish. It was almost like he could see it flopping on Armand’s plate, still alive, desperately trying to escape its fate of ending up as a meal. Completely ridiculous, the fish was long dead and fully cooked. Louis reopened his eyes. He needed to distract himself from the feverishness of his body. He turned to Armand and just asked him flat out.
“Is this a date?”
Armand paused, in the middle of carefully separating the white meat of the fish from the fine bones. “It can be, if you’d like it to be.”
Louis hated that answer. “I asked you what you want it to be.”
Armand looked him directly in the eye, food forgotten. “I would like it to be a date.”
A wave of dizziness rolled over Louis. A pearl of sweat ran down his forehead stopping at his shirt collar. He should probably verbally react to what Armand had just said. All he could do was murmur something about having to use the restroom and staggering down the hall. Despite the grand air of the restaurant, the restroom was separated into tiny stalls, the same as any rundown diner. Louis rushed into one of them, hastily locking himself in and collapsing on his knees. The retching started almost immediately. When his stomach stopped cramping, Louis rested his forehead on the toilet seat, unable to even lift his head. He might have fallen unconscious for a second, because suddenly, Armand’s voice was outside the stall door. “Louis? Are you alright?”
Louis didn’t know what he possibly could say in answer to this. As it turned out, nothing at all, all that escaped him was a strangled moan. Armand’s tone grew alarmed.
“Should I call a doctor?”
Panic seized Louis. “No!” He gathered his last reservoir of strength and pushed himself back up on his feet. He flushed the toilet and stepped out of the stall, passing Armand to wash his face at the polished marble sink. He turned back to the other man. “Sorry, for rushing out on you. I must be coming down with something.”
“Maybe you are allergic to something on the menu. Do you eat Italian often?”
“Does take out pizza count?”
Armand laughed softly. “I suppose it does.”
Glad that he hadn’t ruined the mood, Louis laughed along. “I’m a pro then, my little nieces love pizza.” He nodded his head towards the door. “Shall we go back to our table?”
Armand’s face softened, like it had when he had asked Louis out for dinner. “If you’re feeling better.” He put his hand on the small of Louis’ back, to steady him, probably. He turned him into the direction of the door carefully. It felt like he had jerked Louis around violently and the nausea was back, sudden and overwhelming. Louis couldn’t get a word of warning out, he was already throwing up on Armand’s polished brown leather shoes. When it was over, he looked up at Armand, tears in his eyes from the overstimulation in his throat. “I am so sorry. I must be sick already.”
Armand looked at him with huge, unblinking eyes. “Don’t worry about it, it will probably be gone by tomorrow.” A grin. “It’s not like you’re pregnant.” He started looking around for something to clean up his shoes with.
Louis answering chuckle got stuck in his throat. There is no way. But he remembered how wet he'd been for Lestat, how easily he slipped in. That probably means I was able to conceive, but what are the odds? It had been over two months since then and he had felt no changes. Except for gaining weight and feeling dizzy and- He turned back from Armand to sprint back into the bathroom stall. He clutched onto the toilet seat, dry heaving. The few bites of bruschetta and what he hadn't thrown up at the gallery earlier today had already exited him, no food left inside him. Still, Louis' stomach felt impossibly full.
Notes:
No French this chapter (Again!)
Chapter 7: Chapter 7
Summary:
Louis couldn’t say it. “You know how babies are made.”
Grace looked at him exacerbated. “I know you know how to use protection!”
Louis couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead he followed a swirl in the pattern of the bathroom tiles, as if he was seeing them for the first time in his life. “We were drunk.”
He could still see Grace’s disbelieving expression from the corner of his eye, but before she could ask anything more, the timer ran out, her phone vibrating in her hand. Grace picked up one of the tests. “Two lines.”
--
Grace picks Louis up from his disasterous diner date.
Notes:
Another friday upon us - I hope everyone is well!
Ill be pretty busy these next few days, so don't be dissapointed if I don't reply to comments. Don't worry the next chapter is almost finished and will be up in a weeks time like (almost) always!
As for TWs. Nothing too graphic in here. They're in the bathroom to take the pregnancy tests, but I don't go into any detail bodythief style. You are safe<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the end, Louis had to resort to calling Grace to come pick him up. He still felt like death, there was no way he could drive. He knew he should’ve used the time he was waiting for her to show up to think of a way to break the news to her. If there was even any news, that’s what they had to find out. Armand had left the bathroom some time ago, to settle their bill and ask if they could leave discreetly through a back entrance. He had been a perfect gentleman about all of it, which made Louis feel a million times worse.
His phone screen lit up with a text from Grace: “I’m outside.”
Armand was back and carefully guided him to the staff entrance, softly thanking the employees as they passed them. The sweltering September air felt like a cold breeze to Louis. He turned towards Armand to say something, not even knowing where to possibly start.
Grace was starting towards them as soon as she saw them, not even shutting the door of her car. She took over from Armand’s soft hold on him and put a hand on his forehead, a calming cool against his burning skin. “Oh god, Lou, you look awful! We have to get you home.” Louis put his weight on her. He turned to Armand, managing a weak nod. A polite smile on Armand’s face, the careful distance back in place.
“Call me when you feel better.”
Grace didn’t pay any attention to him, already pulling Louis in the direction of her Hyundai Kona. She opened the car door for Louis and fastened his seat belt, like he was one of the twins. Louis let out a pitiful moan. God, this was humiliating.
Grace wiped the sweat off his forehead, resting a comforting palm against his cheek. “We're gonna be home in no time, don’t worry.”
Louis shook his head, but quickly stopped when that made everything spin again. “Can’t yet, we have to run by CVS.”
Grace let out a breathless laugh. “Nonsense, I have stomach medicine at home, you know how it is with little kids.” She threw the passenger door shut and walked around to the driver’s side. When she was strapped in she turned to Louis again with a teasing smile. “Don't worry, it works on grown ups too.”
Louis swallowed the nervousness creeping up his throat. “We really need to get a few things at CVS though.”
Grace pulled her hand from the console where she had been about to start the car and turned to look him in the eyes. “Okay, what is going on?”
This was it. Louis was sure he would’ve thrown up again, but his stomach was completely empty. “I. I think- I might-” He licked his dry lips. “We need to get some pregnancy tests.”
For a moment, Grace just looked at him. Then, she turned on the car and pulled out onto the road. “Let’s go then.”
They had bought far too many tests. Grace had said a variety of brands would be good but after the first six, Louis had to replenish on liquids first. He was currently gulping down his second large glass of water. Grace had lined up all used tests on the bathroom counter, letting a countdown run out on her phone. She looked at Louis. “How is this even possible? You told me you were careful!”
Louis could feel himself flushing just at the memory of Grace's insistent questions when he made it back from work that afternoon in late June. Sure, she had been excited about his new job position and had the whole family present him with a hastily prepared cake in an impromptu celebration. The kids had lost interest as soon as the dessert had left the table and busied themselves on the rug in front of the huge sofa at the other side of the room. Louis could hear Benji’s excited imitations of Thea’s explosion noises, Faith uncharacteristically quiet, focused on a colouring book. Grace reminded Levi it was his turn to do the dishes and he got up from the table, piled up plates in hand. As soon as the water was running behind them, Grace turned to Louis. “So, what happened…” Louis tilted his head, acting clueless. Maybe Grace had forgotten about the weird French dude that had shown up at their table just as she had to leave. Grace's shoulder checked him. “...with Lestat! ” Louis opened his mouth. “And don’t say nothing! Louis, I’ve known you my entire life, don’t even try it.”
Louis blew out a breath. “Okay, fine. He stayed over.”
“You took him here ?!” Grace's voice had gotten loud enough that Faith’s head snapped up from her colouring. Louis looked at her, alarm hopefully clear on his face. Grace shrugged sheepishly. She continued in a still fairly loud whisper. “Louis, you don’t know this man. At all! I can’t believe this!”
Louis could feel his cheeks heat up but a sudden spike of anger made him stand up for himself. “What’s that supposed to mean? You wanna tell me I should’ve waited until marriage?” Grace puffed out her cheeks in frustration.
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it!” She blew out a long breath. “This just isn’t like you, at all. You’re normally so selective about the guys you go out with…”
Louis rolled his eyes at her, still playing at a nonchalance he really didn’t feel. “I was drunk! I was celebrating! This guy just got lucky he was there at the right time!” He shrugged.
Grace looked properly scandalized. “Now, I know you don’t mean that…”
Louis felt the anger creep up his throat again. “And why not? Do I need to have a 20 year marriage with this guy just because we slep-” Grace shushed him loudly, making the kids, who hadn’t paid them any attention, look up from their playing again. His sister gave him a pleading look. “Just tell me you took precautions.”
Louis blew a raspberry. “Yes, of course!”
But he could tell Grace wasn’t done asking him questions yet. Grace appeared ready to open up a new line of questioning, but Levi had returned to the table, still drying his hands on a dish towel, asking what movie they wanted to watch when the kids had gone to bed.
An impatient “Well?” from Grace catapulted him from his recollection, back to the present.
Louis couldn’t say it. “You know how babies are made.”
Grace looked at him exacerbated. “I know you know how to use protection!”
Louis couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead he followed a swirl in the pattern of the bathroom tiles, as if he was seeing them for the first time in his life. “We were drunk.”
He could still see Grace’s disbelieving expression from the corner of his eye, but before she could ask anything more, the timer ran out, her phone vibrating in her hand. Grace picked up one of the tests. “Two lines.”
Louis looked at the printed out explanation that came with the box. “That means it's positive.” He felt the room spin around him.
Grace’s voice cut through to him. “Hey, no panicking yet! Let’s look at this one! See, a smiley face! That has to mea- oh, means you’re pregnant.” She shifted through more of the little instruction papers. “Yeah, all of these are positive.”
Louis didn't say anything. He just put his head in his hands, pressing against his eyes until he could see shifting shapes behind his closed eyelids.
Grace turned to him. “Oh this is making me paranoid, give me one of these.” She pulled another test from the packaging, sitting down on the toilet just like Louis had. She put the stick down on the window still. “Okay, your turn again, Lou.” The water had made its course through Louis and he made it through another four testing strips.
“That’s enough." He pulled his pants back up. “The result wont change.”
Grace waited to look at her test until the timer had run out on Louis’ as well. “Oh, thank god, that would’ve sucked.” She looked at Louis, another four positive tests in front of him. “Well, at least now we know they’re not rigged.” She touched her own stomach. “At least I hope so.”
Louis looked up at Grace forlornly. “What do I do now…” She raised her eyebrow at him.
“I can’t call him!”
“You have to!”
“No, I physically cannot. He doesn’t have a phone.” He chewed at his lip. There was a way to contact Lestat, but should he really? “He gave me his email.”
Grace’s eyes met his. “So you kept his email address?”
At this point, Louis had nothing he could feel embarrassed about. Silently, he stepped out of the bathroom, back into his bedroom. He pulled open the book on his nightstand, revealing the by now neatly pressed breakfast napkin. “Don’t say anything.”
Grace was working hard to keep her face neutral. “I’m not saying anything. Did you keep that in every book you have read for the last two months?”
“Grace!”
“Can’t blame a girl for asking…”
Louis was taking long strides across the bedroom floor, the soft feel of the rug under his sockless feet unable to calm him down. Grace had snatched the napkin with Lestat’s mail address up and slowly typed it into Louis’ macbook, only using her pointer finger, taking seconds to find the next letter on the keyboard. The slow clacking was driving Louis insane. He flung himself back onto the bed, his shoulders brushing Grace’s. It took him a second to understand what he was looking at.
“Wait, no, that’s the browser, you can’t send an email like that -” but Grace had made it to the end of the address and pressed the enter key with far too much flourish, like she’d just finished typing a bestselling novel.
The google search results popped open. Somehow, the first link read “THE VAMPIRE LESTAT”, all capital letters. Grace squealed in delight, kicking her feet on the bed. Excitedly, she turned to him. “Louis, your man is famous!”
“ My man?” Grace had taken over the Laptop again and clicked on the link.
Whatever Louis had expected, it hadn’t been, well, this. The page was entirely black, with large, swirling letters in barely readable gray on top of it. It seemed to consist of myspace-like blog entries. Right on top the name of the band was written in thin, elegant print, the letters swirling together. Underneath it said “Turn to darkness” Louis couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are they for real?”
Links to the FAQs, News and so on, on little tombstones. Grace immediately clicked on the one that said “Contact us!”. A page opened up, displaying a box for text input and multiple emails to choose from. Grace read aloud “For business inquiries, contact [email protected], for legal questions, contact [email protected], for press enquiries, contact [email protected],” she gasped. “That’s your man!”
“Stop calling him that!”
Grace was already typing at a snail’s pace again. “Hey, Lestat….” She considered for a moment. “This is Louis.” She bit her lip in concentration. “I need to talk to you, can we meet?” Louis dropped his head in his hands. How was this his life?
“And…send!” Grace dropped her head next to his, pushing the Laptop aside. She pulled his hands away from his face. “Hey, Lou, listen to me. No matter what happens. You have me, you have Levi. There’s no way you’ll have to face this alone. Okay?” Louis pulled her close and hugged her tightly. Despite his best efforts, his tears were already leaving stains on Grace’s purple blouse. Grace was rubbing his back in soothing circles. “Hey, it’ll be fine. Take a deep breath.” But Louis couldn’t take a deep breath, all that came out were tiny hiccuping sobs. Grace kept whispering to him and softly rocking him in her arms, like she did with Benji when he got upset. Like Louis had done to her, when they had been kids.
A loud ping made them freeze. They both scrambled for the laptop. This time, Louis got to it first. With shaking hands he opened up his inbox. Right there on top, a message from [email protected], “Re: Hey, Lestat” Grace was reading out loud over his shoulder again. “‘Bien sûr, chéri’, oh, and a smiley face!” She pushed at Louis’ shoulder. “Call me at-” She was already reaching for her phone and punching in the digits, a lot faster on the touchscreen than she had been on Louis’ macbook.
Louis was confused. “I thought he didn’t have a phone?”
The waiting tone sounded. After four rings, the call was picked up. At first there was only rustling and the sound of multiple excited voices, muffled by whatever was moving over the phone on the other side of the call.
“Bonsoir, Louis.” Lestat sounded out of breath, like had run a marathon to get to the phone.
Grace was angling the phone in Louis’ direction and nodded encouragingly. Louis' throat went dry.
“Hello, Lestat.” he choked out.
A breathless giggle from Lestat. “What can I do for you?”
Louis’ nails were digging into his forearms. “I was hoping we could see eachother again? Maybe over dinner?” He held his breath.
“Hey Louis!” Lestat angled the receiver away from his mouth, a muffled “Ta gueule, Larry!” More rustling, Lestat’s voice sounding clear from the phone's speakers again. “Sorry, they’re being nosey, even though we are at work !”
Laughter erupted in the background. “I’m not the one who stopped everything to answer a booty call!”
“Oh my god, get his ass, Daniel!”
Louis couldn’t look at Grace. He knew he was blushing. “I can call later, if that’s-”
“No, no, I make my own hours.” Lestat cleared his throat, drowning out whatever the other people in the room with him had to say to that. “Yes, I would love to have dinner, how about Friday? Does 8 work for you?”
Louis could feel a smile grow on his face. He suddenly felt light again, a pressure letting up that he hadn’t even noticed until it had gone away just now. “I would love that.”
He could hear the smile in Lestat’s answer as well. “Let me take care of everything, don’t worry your pretty little head over anything.”
If anyone else had spoken to him like this, Louis would’ve probably screamed at them and blocked their number immediately. In Lestat’s voice it sounded hopelessly romantic. Another giggle tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. “Okay.”
Just when Louis felt safe, it was Grace’s turn to make exaggerated kissing noises into her phone. Louis snatched the phone from her hands, ignoring her shout of protest. He licked his lips. His voice came out soft and unsure.
“Well, see you on Friday, then.”
“Yes, see you on Friday! I can’t wai-” The call ended abruptly.
“That went well.” Grace took her phone from Louis. She let herself fall back onto the duvet. She turned her head to Louis, a shit eating grin on her face.
“So, you want me to help you with your outfit again?”
Louis tried for a neutral expression. “I can dress myself.”
Grace poked a freshly manicured nail into his ribs, making him hiss. “Lestat seemed to like what I picked out last time.” She laughed.
It took a moment for Louis to remember what she was talking about. He flushed again. “Grace!”
Notes:
French Translations:
Bien sûr, chéri = Of course, darling
Bonsoir = Good Evening
Ta gueule = Shut up
Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Summary:
It was probably the first time Louis had called what was inside of him a baby. Now, it stopped being two lines on a pregnancy test, Lestat clinging to him while shaking in ecstasy, throwing up on Armand’s shiny dress shoes. Suddenly, it was a tiny person he would bring into the world. Guiding their steps and keeping them close by his side. He felt tears well in his eyes. This was so much bigger than the two of them, clinging to their half drunk glasses of overpriced grape juice.
____
Louis comes clean to Lestat over dinner
Notes:
It is barely Friday but i'm already posting this chapter since im still away on my trip and won't have the time to upload anything during the day. I hope everyone enjoys this one, fair warning the next one is gonna hurt (but it's also the chapter I'm probably most proud of thus far!)
no new tw's for this chapter
brief mention of nausea, but only used in a metaphorical sense, no actual vomiting this chapterALSO I will add this to the general summary for this story, but BIG thanks to French editing by the lovely @blatterpussbunnyfromhell
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When they made it to the restaurant, Lestat pulled out a chair for Louis before the waiter had even finished pointing out their table. It was obvious that Lestat made an effort to look ‘put together’, as his mother might call it. The soft curls had been brushed out of his hair, the dehydrated edges already bunching up and frizzing. It made Louis want to run his fingers through it, reshaping the tresses back into the soft waves he remembered framing Lestat’s face. Lestat’s shirt almost matched the colour of his eyes, catching the light and revealing a pattern of flowers woven into it. Louis had assumed it to be satin until he had brushed the fabric when Lestat had walked beside him. Cheap polyester, after all.
“Sorry we had to wait a bit, I didn’t know you had to make a reservation.” He was smoothing down the front of his shirt, self conscious in front of Louis’ crisp black ensemble. “I didn’t think you would wear a suit.” Lestat seemed genuinely embarrassed.
They had emailed back and forth about all remaining details, down to who would foot the bill (Louis, because he had a regular income, thank you very much!), but apparently Lestat hadn’t thought about how busy a nice restaurant like this one would be at primetime on a Friday. Lucky for him, Louis felt far too nervous to get mad at him.
Louis gave a tight smile. “That's alright, I'm just glad you could make time for me so quickly.”
A relieved expression on Lestat’s face. “Of course, Louis!” He was already prying apart the laminated pages of the menu, immediately going to the back of the little folder where drink options were listed. “And I know they have wine directly imported from France, I can recommend some I know from back home!”
“Actually, I was hoping we could avoid alcohol this time…” There was an awkward pause, where they both seemingly remembered how their last drunken night played out. Lestat seemed to deflate in real time, meekly returning to perusing the menu.
When the server had taken their orders, Louis asked Lestat how his day had been and they made their way through painfully awkward small talk, barely better than sitting there in complete silence. How do you talk to someone you already had sex with and decided to never see again? Because that’s what Louis had done, gotten over Lestat, completely. He had never thought about how small Lestat’s waist had been in relation to his big shoulders, how good his hair smelled, how his lips had felt on his neck, how he had sounded when he-, really, never any of it. Not thinking about any of it was even harder with Lestat in front of him, in the flesh. Louis’ eyes kept drifting to Lestat’s face, only to find the other already looking at him, with an expression that reminded Louis of an old dog begging for scraps. Louis turned his attention back to his plate to poke some more at his veggies.
Three whole courses it continued like this. Neither of them brave enough to step outside of polite conversation, even though it was obvious they both had things they desperately wanted to say.
When they finished dessert and had only the last bit of a bottle of non-alcoholic red wine left, it was Lestat who breached the elephant in the room. “I’m really glad you called. I was starting to think you wouldn’t, maybe.”
Louis felt himself blush. This is humiliating. “I was busy at work.”
At this, Lestat perked up, smiling at Louis. “Oh, of course, your promotion! How is the new office! Is Lily still mad at you all the time?”
He remembered all of that after two months?
Louis set up straight in the upholstered chair. “That’s not actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took a deep breath. “Well, no point in talking around it.” His eyes bore into vibrant blue ones. “I’m pregnant.”
Lestat was still smiling at him. “Hm?” He was raising his eyebrows like he was still waiting for Louis to finish speaking.
“I’m….pregnant.”
Lestat licked his lips. “With my-?”
“Of course, with your-”, he couldn’t say it either, “What do you think, I have unprotected sex all the time?”
All colour drained from Lestat’s face. “ Unprotected! I thought you were taking some contraceptives! You said I should do it without the condom!”
Louis threw him an outraged look.“I was drunk!”
Lestat scoffed. “Was your pussy drunk?”
Several heads snapped to their table. Louis ducked his head in shame, his cheeks flaming red. He moved closer to Lestat. “Let’s just agree you messed up, I had a moment of weakness and you-”
Lestat looked outraged. “A moment of weakness! You were begging me to!”
Louis pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t talk so loud!”
Slightly lowering his volume, Lestat went on: “You were begging me, said you needed it! I was just doing what you told me to!” He was moving even closer to Louis. “It’s not like you didn’t enjoy yourself.”
Heat rushed to Louis’ face again. He refused to meet Lestat’s eye. “I never said that!”
“I’m not apologizing for fucking you like you asked me to.” Lestat crossed his arms like a toddler mid-tantrum.
Louis threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t want you to apologize!”
Lestat raised his shoulders in a comically exaggerated shrug. “Well, what do you want then?”
All fight left Louis. “I don’t know.”
He looked at Lestat again. His brows furrowed, face littered with red splotches from their heated discussion, blond hair hopelessly frizzing around his head, the New Orleans humidity getting the best of whatever product he had put in it. Louis went on. “I didn’t want to leave you in the dark. That doesn’t mean you have to be part of this. I have Grace and everyone. I can do it without you.” He took a deep breath. “But I’m keeping the baby.”
It was probably the first time Louis had called what was inside of him a baby. Now, it stopped being two lines on a pregnancy test, Lestat clinging to him while shaking in ecstasy, throwing up on Armand’s shiny dress shoes. Suddenly, it was a tiny person he would bring into the world. Guiding their steps and keeping them close by his side. He felt tears well in his eyes. This was so much bigger than the two of them, clinging to their half drunk glasses of overpriced grape juice.
Lestat reached across the table and brushed against Louis’ hand in question. Louis’ turned his palm so their fingers could entwine. “I want to be there for you. If you’ll let me.” Lestat’s voice came out wet with tears. Louis could feel his own running down his cheeks. For a few moments they just sat at the table, crying silently, letting the reality of their situation settle over them both. Lestat’s thumb was brushing the back of Louis' hand and Louis squeezed Lestat’s hand in return. He could feel the tension in his shoulders loosening, could faintly taste yet more angry words in the back of his throat like bile. But the frenzy of their argument had slowed into a mellowing rhythm, almost like a heartbeat shared between them.
Lestat took a deep breath. “So what’s next? What’s the plan?”
“I’ve made a doctor’s appointment, to get confirmation about the pregnancy. Only took grocery pregnancy tests, but a lot of them.”
“Well, nothing is set in stone then! Maybe you’re not pregnant at all!” Lestat’s face shifted through a few emotions quickly, but he settled it in a neutral expression. His lips were pressed tightly together, like he was trying his hardest to not have the corners of his mouth move up or down.
“Yeah, maybe…” Louis should’ve felt glad about the idea. But the taste he had gotten tonight of something, something for himself but more importantly of this version of Lestat. Lestat being just as overwhelmed by emotion as he had been, and still choosing to be by Louis’ side. By their baby’s side. The fake wine was doing funny things to Louis’ stomach. He cleared his throat.
“The appointment is at 10:30, on Tuesday.” He wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. “I can email you the address.”
Lestat’s eyes lit up, he let go of Louis’ hand to search his pockets. Suddenly, his hand felt cold. It took him a moment to notice it was covered in sweat, although he couldn’t say if it was his or Lestat’s. He wiped it along his thigh discreetly while Lestat was still distracted. He had just resumed his original pose when Lestat found what he had been looking for. “I almost forgot! I got a new phone, that's how I saw your email as soon as you sent it!” He handed it to Louis, screen still dark.
“It needs your face to unlock.”
Lestat blushed. “Oh, right of course! Incroyable what these things can do!” He turned the phone around and pushed it close to his face. He had to angle it around a few times until the home screen appeared. Immediately, he gave it back to Louis.
“I really don’t know how to use this at all.” The same helpless smile that had Louis’ stomach fluttering when Lestat had fumbled his awful pick-up-line at the club.
“Well, here’s to hoping I’ll call you, then,” he teased Lestat.
Lestat pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, like he couldn’t keep his hands still.
“You will call, Louis?” He looked at Louis and immediately away again, all his bravado gone.
Louis opened the messenger app. The only two chats were a group chat labeled “Satan’s Night Out” and one with someone named “Daniel Studio”. Louis could see the message previews. Daniel’s read “Three hours on Saturday?”. The one in the group chat wasn’t displayed in full, but Louis could guess it was about him. “Don’t try the prince thing!!!! No sex on the couch I just cleane-”
He opened a new chat with his own contact.
“What’s the prince thing?” he asked, without looking up. He could hear Lestat swallow.
“If you saw that, you know Tough Cookie told me to not bring it up,” he said resolutely.
Louis smiled. “Well, now I simply have to know.”
He typed a quick ‘Hey.’ and hit send. He handed the phone back to Lestat.
“Also, Tough Cookie?”
Lestat jumped at the chance to talk about the non forbidden topic.
“Don’t ever act like the name is unusual. Her parents were big on self realising naming practices.” He shook his head. “Also, only use her full name. Nicknaming is the same as laughing at it.”
Louis nodded seriously. “Will keep that in mind.” He vaguely remembered several people in Lestat’s booth on the ground floor of the bar. There had been a woman with thick dreads, silver piercings along her ears and nose. She had been busy making out with a broad shouldered person in a ripped muscle tee for the better part of the night, so they hadn’t spoken.
“Is she also part of the band?”
“Yes, all my housemates are. You met Larry of course,” Louis wasn’t about to tell him how little of an impression Larry had made on him with Lestat right by his side. “and Alex is the one who smuggled in the vodka.”
“Oh, Alex!” Louis exclaimed, like he hadn’t completely forgotten the other's name. All he could recall was a short red hair and a blur of pale limbs. Most prominently, the taste of cheap liquor running down his throat, throwing back shot after shot.
Lestat smiled at him. “And what about you? Any more sisters I should know about?”
Just like that, the conversation was flowing easily between them. Suddenly, there was a tired looking waiter at their table informing them that it was last call and the restaurant would close soon. Louis found he had forgotten about everything, he had just enjoyed himself like he would want to on a normal date. Somehow, Lestat had managed to dissolve all tension weighting on Louis simply by reenacting his housemates’ antics and looking at Louis like he hung the moon just for laughing at his criminal attempt at a southern accent.
Lestat insisted on walking Louis home. Louis had turned to him outside of the restaurant. “I’ll enjoy this gentleman act if you can tell me this 100% isn’t you being weird about the pregnancy thing.”
Lestat’s cheeks warmed and he tucked his head to the side. An almost unbearable surge of happiness was running through him. He felt the only way to exorcise it quickly would be doing several cartwheels right here on the pavement, but he was sure Louis wouldn't appreciate that. After a moment, he was ready to face Louis again.
“I promise I will be normal about it, starting tomorrow.” He couldn’t hold back a goofy smile. “Right now, I feel like I’m in a dream.”
Now, it was Louis’ turn to blush. Lestat wanted to take Louis’ face into his hands, feel the blood rushing underneath his fingertips. His voice came out in a barely there whisper. “Tu m’as donné quelque chose que je ne savais pas que je voulais, Louis.”
Louis tilted his head. “Tu as aidé, non?”
Lestat stopped in his tracks, his mouth open in surprise. “You speak French?” He thought back to all the over the top phrases that had toppled from his mouth in Louis’ presence, assumed to only be exotic noise to him. He understood all of that.
Louis laughed loudly. “Nous sommes à Nouvèl Orleans et tu t'étonnes que je puisse te comprendre?” He knocked himself against Lestat’s shoulder. “My Mama wouldn’t let us talk English at the diner table ‘tilwe could recite the entire Notre Père off the top of our heads!” He shuddered at the memory. Lestat furrowed his bow.
“My family wasn’t religious. Not sure if I know all the words either.” Louis giggled at that.
Neither one of them wanted to linger too long on the topic of parents, so they were already ten minutes into a discussion about Art Nouveau (“Just because you’ve been to Paris doesn’t make you an art historian, Lestat!”) before Lestat realized he wanted to know what Louis' mother thought of the news.
Louis’ step was still light when he made it back to his garden house. Lestat had walked him up to the gate of the du Lac residence and blushed prettily when Louis had pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as thanks.
Louis had just pulled off his shoes and loosened his tie, when a soft knock sounded against the door. He opened his front door to find Grace.
“You still up?”
Normally, she would be dozing off on the sofa by the time the twins had fully settled down.
Grace looked at him, swallowing heavily. “I might have let it slip to Mama that you have big news.
Louis’ heart stopped. “You did not.”
His sister just talked over him. “I swear, I was only thinking about your promotion, but she-”
Grace wrung her hands and smiled nervously. “She insists on coming over for family breakfast.”
He felt his mouth running dry. “Grace.” An ugly crack in his voice.
“I could talk her into coming over for next week's breakfast. I wanted you to have your doctor's appointment first.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Louis, just be there, please? You know it’ll only be worse if you don’t show.”
Louis' fingertips were going numb. “Grace, she will know as soon as she sees me! I’ll have to tell her.”
Grace smiled at him, her voice coming out somewhat confident. “No, you won’t! Tell her about the promotion, she will forget about anything else!”
Louis looked at her, unimpressed. “That sounds just like our mother, suddenly becoming disinterested, when you change the topic instead of answering her questions.”
Grace pulled a face, crossing her arms. “Why d’ you always gotta be so pessimistic about her?”
Now, Louis was actually getting angry. All the giddiness he felt from spending the evening with Lestat was gone. “Grace, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that for both our sakes, I don’t wanna fight.”
Grace seemed to realize her mistake. She swallowed again. “So, you'll be there?”
Louis let out a long breath. “Yes, I will be there.”
Grace went back to the main house quickly after that, leaving Louis, with his shoes still half untied, thoughts racing.
Notes:
French Translations:
Tu m’as donné quelque chose que je ne savais pas que je voulais, Louis. = You have given me something I never knew I wanted, Louis.
Tu as aidé, non? = Didn't you do your part as well?
Nous sommes à Nouvèl Orleans et tu t'étonnes que je puisse te comprendre? = We are in New Orleans and you're surprised I can understand you?
Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Summary:
“Alright, the….Lioncourts!” He was reading off of the clipboard. “Unusual name...” He had said it the English way and Lestat had already opened his mouth to correct him, when it hit him. He thinks we're married. A warm feeling was rising inside of him. He looked at Louis who was already staring at him with wide eyes. He seemed panicked at the idea, Lestat decided to correct the doctor, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, Louis’ hand clamped down on his, pulling Lestat close to his side, just like Lestat had stopped himself from doing in a show of dominance for the desperate nurse unashamedly flirting with Louis in front of him. Louis answered in an overly sweet tone, fake smile stretching his face. “That’s us!” He refused to meet Lestat’s eye.
---
Louis and Lestat brave a wild doctor's visit and some important conversations happen...
Notes:
Another beautiful friday! I'm here with the longest chapter I've written thus far and also the one I'm most proud off! Hope everyone enjoys reading.
TW for discussion of pregnancy in a medical setting (not getting into anatomical details or anything), discussion of weight and blood getting drawn (nothing too graphic), also abortion is briefly discussed this chapter. as always, please take care when reading!
Also a small heads up, I have a big upcoming deadline. So there might be an extra wait for the next chapter... I have a good chunk of it written, I just don't know how much time I'll have to edit. So it might be closer to 2 weeks between chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The chairs were so close to each other, that their thighs pressed together, growing uncomfortably hot. Louis imagined their sweat soaking through both their pants and having them stick together, making a noticeable noise when they had to get up in front of all these other people. They were both dressed for the warm weather, Louis in a linen pantsuit that was loose around his middle still, thank god. Lestat had his hair in a butterfly shaped clip and wore pants so artfully torn they were almost non-existent, not that Louis was complaining. His lavender shirt was see-through, so Louis could make out the white tank top he wore underneath as well as miles of pale skin stretching as far as the eye could see. He let his gaze drift from broad shoulders, along the subtle shape of breasts under the cotton all the way down to Lestat’s hands. He was contemplating taking one of them into his own when he noticed the tanlines.
“How did you only tan your hands?”
Lestat flushed bright red, his face almost matching his hands. “I'll tell you later.”
Now, Louis was definitely interested. He had meant it as a throwaway comment, trying to break the building tension. They were sitting in the doctor’s waiting room. Around them, people in all stages of pregnancy, some with young kids by their side, an expanding family. Louis was looking at a heavily pregnant woman, her belly protruding impressively. His hands kept running down the front of his shirt, trying to feel the same bloating of his stomach, almost expecting to squish sudden heaps of fat between his fingers. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Next to him, Lestat didn't seem to fare any better, barely even able to look at him. What was the story with the tan?
After an agonizing 40 minutes a nurse stepped into the waiting area and called for them. “Louis and…Lester!” This time, Louis did take Lestat's hand, both of them standing up. He felt like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground, a slight breeze would've knocked him over otherwise. The nurse led them to another row of chairs in front of a closed door. “Dr. James will be right with you.” She was gone before either of them could correct her on the pronunciation of Lestat's name.
It was one of the few times in his life Lestat could remember being rendered speechless. All of this was completely overwhelming, the overfilled waiting room, screaming kids and expecting parents cradling swollen bellies making the situation feel more real suddenly, Louis steadfastly refusing to look his way every time Lestat stole glances at him. And then he had to ask about his hands, the leftovers of Lestat's defeated walk home from the diner, Louis' own shirt burned into his skin.
Next to them, the door opened and another nurse ushered them in, telling them the consulting doctor would be there shortly. He was around their age, suntanned, with streaks of blonde in his brown hair, and was completely focused on Louis, not even turning to Lestat. It made him jittery, his fingers curling, wanting to pull Louis into his side, baring his teeth to the other man like a wild animal. But he had no claim on Louis, would've probably never heard from him again if it wasn't for this pregnancy - well, possible pregnancy, for now. He had his chance and blew it at that stupid all you can eat buffet two months ago, when he had run his mouth trying to entertain Louis and ended up scaring him away instead. He was pulled out of his wallowing when he caught the phrase “please get undressed” from that overfamiliar nurse. White hot rage had him ready to actually throttle the guy but just in time he saw that he was holding a medical gown out to Louis. “If you want, you can get changed behind that privacy screen over there.” His eyes turned to Lestat for the first time. Lestat scoffed at him, just stopping himself from voicing his thoughts out loud for everyone in the room to hear. Don't be ridiculous, it's nothing I haven't seen. Louis feels comfortable with me. Louis took the gown and vanished behind the partition. Lestat had always been shit at hiding his emotions and he knew the hurt and disappointment was clear on his face by the way the nurse’s turned smug, giving a sarcastic shrug. Lestat was contemplating how angry Louis would be if they had to find another doctor when he broke this one's assistant's arm.
His thoughts were completely derailed when there was a rustling of plastic and Louis stepped from behind the curtain. It was pathetic, the way his heartbeat jumped into overdrive, but Louis looked so delicate like this, the gown almost slipping from his shoulders. He had kept his socks on which Lestat found embarrassingly cute. He hadn't been to too many American doctors but he had seen on TV that you were supposed to see someone's entire backside in these. Would Louis turn around for him, would he get to see the ridges of Louis' spine, luring his eyes down, down to the subtle round shape of his ass, so perfectly soft when he had squeezed it oh so long ago?
The sound of the door opening startled Lestat again. A man in a white lab coat stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself. He had combed gray hair and a thick pair of glasses, distorting his eyes into absurd shapes. The nurse handed him a clipboard, presumably with all the documents Louis had to fill out when they had gotten here. The doctor gave him a curt nod and finally the leering nurse left the room and Lestat could breathe normally again.
“Alright, the….Lioncourts!” He was reading off of the clipboard. “Unusual name...” He had said it the English way and Lestat had already opened his mouth to correct him, when it hit him. He thinks we're married. A warm feeling was rising inside of him. He looked at Louis who was already staring at him with wide eyes. He seemed panicked at the idea, Lestat decided to correct the doctor, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, Louis’ hand clamped down on his, pulling Lestat close to his side, just like Lestat had stopped himself from doing in a show of dominance for the desperate nurse unashamedly flirting with Louis in front of him. Louis answered in an overly sweet tone, fake smile stretching his face. “That’s us!” He refused to meet Lestat’s eye.
Lestat was completely lost. Does he want him to think we’re married? Louis’ thumb brushed along the back of his hand. “Baby, don’t you want to sit down?”
Lestat’s brain short circuited, his face blushing brightly. It was jarring, hearing it in broad daylight, when in Lestat's memory it had always been accompanied by the sounds of soft sheets, Louis' voice high and breathy in the dark. Last time he called me that was when we- The doctor started to speak. “Lovely to meet you, I'm Dr. Raglan James.” Was that accent… British? It was hard to tell. “Alright, at this first exam, we’ll determine if a pregnancy has even occurred, how far along you are and we’ll try to get a picture of your little one you can share with the happy grandparents!”
Louis gave a curt nod, shaking Dr. James outstretched hand. “Why don’t you sit next to your husband, I’ll have to ask a few standard questions before we can get started.” The wrongly assumed relation between them had felt just as thrilling this second time. Lestat was desperately hoping he was keeping a somewhat calm exterior because it felt like his stomach was completing an Olympic gymnastics routine. Louis took a seat next to him and reached for his hand on the chair arm to intertwine their fingers again, sending little sparks up Lestat's entire body.
Dr. James turned to Louis, still looking down at his clipboard. “Just to confirm, you’ve written you’re 5’9’’,” He looked up quickly. “Stand up for a moment, yes, that seems about right.” Confusion on his face. “And you’ve left the line for weight blank?” Lestat felt Louis shift in his chair next to him.
“I honestly don’t know.” He cleared his throat but his voice still came out strained. “I don’t own a scale.”
Dr. James made a dismissive gesture. “We can get that out of the way straight away, if you would just stand on that scale over there.” He pointed to his right. Louis remained seated. His hand was clutching at Lestat’s.
“Do we have to?” He swallowed audibly. “Does it tell you anything?”
The clear distress in Louis' voice didn’t seem to register to Dr. James. “We will need to closely monitor the changes in your body in the next months, Mr. Lioncourt, do you understand?” Louis gave no reaction. When Lestat turned to him, his face looked ashen.
“Louis, what’s wrong, chéri?” He carefully wiped the sweat from Louis’ forehead. The doctor spoke up again.
“Mr. Lioncourt, I can’t give you any diagnosis if you refuse to be examined.” Louis stayed silent. Well, he’s not called Lioncourt, he’s probably not even realizing he's being addressed. Dr. James had evidently come to the same realization. “Pardon my rudeness, but… Louis? Is there something distressing you?” No genuine concern in the question, instead, he was clutching the pen in his hand like he was ready to scrawl down whatever came out of Louis’ mouth next. Hearing his name had Louis’ eyes focusing on the doctor again. He took a huge breath.
“I’ve struggled in the past… with… my weight.” He was chewing on his lip, looking down at his lap. Lestat felt a sinking feeling. This must be like Louis’ worst nightmare. And it’s all my fault. He tried to let go of Louis’ hand but the other’s grip was still too tight, sweat collecting between their palms.
Dr. James was getting impatient. “There is simply no way around it. Please stand on the scale, Louis.”
It felt almost perverse to witness Louis so distressed. Lestat decided to give him an out. “I can step outside if-”
“No!” Louis’ head snapped around to stare at him, his eyes wild. “Don’t leave.” Lestat’s heartbeat stuttered. He squeezed Louis’ hand, hoping it felt comforting.
“I’ll stay, then.”
Dr. James was already walking to stand next to the scale, clipboard at the ready. Louis blew out a frustrated breath. Lestat could hear Louis whisper to himself under his breath “nothing that thing can show you…” Reluctantly, he let go of Lestat’s hand and carefully got up. He walked over to the doctor, posture rigid. He took another calming breath before stepping onto the scale, his eyes closed. Dr. James glanced down, waiting for the needle to stop wobbling. “That wasn’t too hard, wasn’t it! We’re at an even 150.” The scribbling of his pen was impossibly loud in the examination room. Louis was already stepping off the scale, rushing back to his seat. When he sat down, his breathing came in quick pants like he had run for miles to make it back to Lestat.
Dr. James wasted no time to move on to another loaded question. “Last time you had sexual intercourse?”
Louis blinked. “Huh?”
Suddenly, Lestat wished he was actually in the hallway outside. He didn’t want to know how Louis had passed the time since June.
Louis cleared his throat. “June 20th.”
Lestat’s jaw dropped. “Huh?” That’s when we-
Dr. James made a nondescript noise. “Do you have an idea when you might have conceived?”
Louis sat stockstill in his chair, intently looking at the doctor, refusing to catch Lestat’s eye. “I just said… June 20th.”
Dr. James tutted, crossing something out in his notes. “That’s a pretty precise date.”
“Well, yes. There haven’t been… any other…” He let the sentence drift off unfinished. Lestat felt like he was floating out of his body, he had to be misunderstanding Louis somehow. There is no way…
This time, Dr. James turned his attention to Lestat. “Well, I’m happy to hear your husband is completely devoted to you, Mr. Lioncourt, it makes my job a lot easier. Maybe you should be making more time for romance, two months is quite a lot of time to go without…” He had asked all of that still assuming they were married? Lestat’s head was spinning. People have open marriages, Lestat. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Tough Cookie in the back of his mind.
Dr. James was sizing him up. “You look healthy enough but I need your side of the story too. Lay it all on me: STD’s, family illnesses, sexual habits, allergies… really anything you could possibly think of.” He turned to a blank page on his clipboard, waiting to fill it with information about Lestat.
Were all obgyns like this? Lestat wouldn’t know. It wasn’t like he had ever had to visit one in his life. He decided to answer the question as they were asked. “I get tested regularly, I’m clean, my father has deteriorating eyesight but that is not inheritable.” He thought about Louis not correcting the doctor on their relationship status and decided to only vaguely describe his orientation, crossing his fingers that Dr. James wouldn't ask any follow up questions. “I’d call myself bisexual, but I’m okay with going by pan too, whatever you have to check on your clipboard, I’m good with pretty much everything but I get awful hay fever in spring. I got benadryl for that though.” He shrugged, unsure if any of what he had said had been helpful.
When Dr. James was done writing all of that down, he raised his head to study Lestat, pushing the heavy glasses up his nose again. “A perfect specimen you chose to procreate with, Mr. Lioncourt.” Lestat couldn't even feel excitement at Louis being called by his name, he was too nauseous by the way James was leering at him up, as if he were a frog to be dissected.
Louis sat up straight next to him, reaching for Lestat’s hand on his thigh. “Is that all you need to know? Or can you start examining ?” He pulled their joined hands back to the arm of the chair. His thumb was drawing soothing circles on Lestat's hand, calming his heartbeat back down.
“As I’ve explained to you, this is already part of the exam. I need to collect all the information so I can determine the best way forward.” The door opened and the godforsaken nurse was back, with a tiny tray in his hands. Dr. James clapped his hands together. “Perfect timing! Sebastian, if you could draw Mr. Lioncourt’s blood?”
Sebastian was already stepping towards Louis. Louis looked up at the nurse’s, as much as Lestat loathed to admit it, handsome face. In another life, he might've been a lot more appreciative of the nurse’s golden tan and surfer’s build. Right now, he was too busy picturing himself plucking those unnaturally blue eyes from their sockets.
“Sure, go ahead.” Louis held out his right arm, making no move to let go of Lestat’s hand with his left. Suddenly, the nurse seemed a bit less enthusiastic to be at Louis’ side, still he disinfected the skin and pressed into it, looking for a vein. When he started to assemble the needle, Louis’ grip on Lestat’s hand tightened again. Louis’ eyes were squeezed shut, his skin starting to look clammy. Lestat leaned close to Louis, slightly emboldened by the dismissal of the nurse. “Are you feeling alright, Saint Louis?” Louis’ eyes snapped open and met his. He let his forehead drop against Lestat’s.
“I get woozy seeing blood get drawn.” He seemed actually embarrassed to admit this to him. Lestat let his left hand caress Louis’ face, settling on the dimple of his chin.
“Just focus on me, chéri, it will be over before you know it.” Louis let his eyes fall closed again, taking deep breaths. Lestat wanted to keep him distracted, so he started to softly speak in French. "Si j'étais ton mari, tu te priverais jamais de rien." Louis gave a weak sigh, so Lestat just kept talking. “N'aie pas peur, je suis là. Je resterai jusqu'à ce que tu sois prêt à me laisser partir.”
The nurse stepped away from them. There already was a bandaid on Louis’ arm and no needles or blood in sight. He stroked Louis’ cheek softly. “You did it, chèri. Do you think you can get your eyes to ope-”
Dr. James lacked the patience for any gentleness once more. “ Now , I can take a look, Louis. I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting …”
Louis’ head left Lestat’s grasp and turned to look at the doctor. He pushed himself from the chair next to Lestat and stood on still wobbly legs. Were you not supposed to remain seated after drawing blood? Lestat got up as well, standing on Louis’ side and reaching for his hand once more. Louis shot him a grateful look, leaning some of his weight on Lestat.
Dr. James motioned for Louis to lay back and put his feet up on the footrests protruding from the examination chair. The doctor rolled between Louis’ spread legs on his swivel-chair as soon as he had leaned back and slicked up a scary looking medical instrument with a clear gel. His hand vanished beneath Louis' medical gown and Louis winced before Dr. James was even done saying “This might hurt a little bit.” Louis pressed his eyes shut, his grip on Lestat’s hand had turned painful but Lestat was squeezing back the best he could, letting Louis know he was there.
Dr. James was speaking without lifting his head. “Everything looks healthy. No swelling or infections. Have you worn any insertable contraceptives in the past few months?”
Louis shook his head, realized the doctor couldn’t see him and wheezed out a weak “No.”
The prodding continued, Dr. James giving no further information to what he was doing or looking for. After a seemingly endless amount of time, he pushed away from Louis, already wiping down the possible torture device he had pulled back from between Louis’ legs.
“You can get dressed again, just leave your stomach uncovered for the ultrasound.”
Lestat thought of the eggshell-coloured bodysuit Louis had been wearing. Unless there was a hidden zipper somewhere on that thing, Louis would have to remain half dressed for this next examination as well. Louis tugged at his hand, setting his legs back down from the foot rests. He grimaced when the left over gel made a squelching sound with his movements. Lestat stepped close to him so Louis could put his weight back on him again. To his surprise, Louis steered both of them behind the partition. His clothes sat neatly folded on a chair. He turned his back to Lestat. Just like on television, there was a gap between the edges of the gown, tiny strings holding it together. Like this, Lestat could see Louis’ entire backside.
“Can you undo these for me, please?”
Lestat could only hope the shaking of his hands wasn’t too noticeable to Louis when he stepped forward to do just that. He had been daydreaming of this when he had been on the other side of the curtain, but actually being so close to Louis’ naked skin was overwhelming. He had survived the last two months on flashes of recollections, feeling either too drunk or hazy to fully appreciate all the details of Louis’ body the only time he got to experience them. And with every day he had forgotten some other little thing, had Louis worn nail polish, was his perfume more pine or sandalwood, it all faded away slowly. And this moment’s Louis was different in a few ways, he wasn’t smelling like either of those things, probably not wearing perfume for a doctor visit, his nails were shorter then when they left those scratches on Lestat’s skin.
Louis carefully shifted towards the chair, most of him still hidden from Lestat’s eyes behind the loose hanging medical gown and pulled on his underwear and pantsuit up to his hips, leaving his torso uncovered. He shrugged the gown off entirely and folded it, just like his clothes had been. Lestat was drinking in the visual of Louis' naked chest, fine dark hairs just like he remembered it, if not a little softer, a tiny bit of fat on his hips. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from licking his lips or even worse, comment on Louis’ state of undress. To his dismay, Louis stepped close to him again, almost brushing against the front of Lestat’s thin silk shirt. “I know I look silly like this, but I really don’t want to spend any more time with my dick out in here.” He breathed out a tiny laugh. Lestat swallowed, desperately trying to come up with a normal response to Louis mentioning his dick in such an off-hand way. Louis was pulling him back towards Dr. James before any sound could leave his mouth.
The doctor had used the time they were out of his sight to rearrange the examination chair. The foot rests were moved to the side, instead there was now another polster for the legs. The chair had also been further reclined, it looked almost like a lounger now. Dr. James was currently typing something into a computer, at least that's what Lestat assumed the stack of electronics to be, turning to them when they approached.
The same leering expression on his face again. “You really couldn't wait to get your hands on each other, right here in the room with me!” He turned to Louis, even raising a finger as if to scold him. “I’ll have you know, that's not what I was slicking you up for!” His fingers curled into a poor imitation of what he was insinuating.
Ignoring Louis’ outraged gasp, he continued on. “No need to be shy, you wouldn't believe the things I've seen people get up to behind that curtain…it seems the concept of pregnancy brings out the primal side in us.” Lestat really didn't like that the doctor was including himself in this. “Seems I struck a nerve in your husband when I commented on your sexual scheduling earlier, he wasted no time to reinsert himself!” He laughed at his own bad word play. Before Lestat could speak up, Dr. James was raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “All in good fun gentlemen, who am I to judge.” Again, his gaze ran along their bodies, tongue peaking out to wetten his lip. “If I was in your position…” He didn't elaborate.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Dr. James continued, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Louis, lay back for me.” He motioned to the chair. The fresh sheet of paper crinkled when Louis sat down. This time, his stomach got coated in the clear gel, Louis hissing at the coldness of it. Dr. James raised what looked almost like those barcode scanners at the supermarket and pressed it into Louis' skin. The screen next to him came alive, showing a pulsing mass of shifting lines. It didn't look like anything to Lestat. Then again, how much would it look like a thing? From Lestat's vague knowledge, they would be hardly finding more than a lump of cells. His heartbeat sped up at the idea of him being wrong and seeing a sudden human shape, already forming a hand with little fingers as if to wave at them, here outside of Louis. What if he was completely misinformed and babies were born after 4 instead of 9 months, what if not knowing for almost 3 months had already ruined the development of their baby, what if this little cluster of cells could feel the same kind of innumerable sadness or rage Lestat did sometimes and it had nowhere to go, not just feeling trapped but actually tied down inside of Louis… He could hear his own quick breaths, probably far too loud for the otherwise silent room. Louis' voice cut through his building panic attack. “Can you hold my hand again, baby?” When Lestat looked at him, he saw a fracture of his own panic reflected in Louis' face. Right, we're in this together. He stepped forward, linking their fingers and immediately felt stronger, grounded again. No matter what happened, there was someone at his side now.
Dr. James gave a sudden “Aha!” and his circling movements started to center on an area of Louis's stomach. He pulled the tower so they could see the monitor. “See that? That's your little one. Quite a healthy size too.” At first, it was just like Lestat had thought, the shifting lines not forming any picture to his eyes. Then suddenly, he could make out a shape of… something. It had a long curved tail and a head entirely too big for its body. It looks like a seahorse. The doctor was still going on about the size and position and something about a gestational sac and kept pressing keys on his computer but all Lestat could hear was his own blood, rushing in his ears. And then there was another sound, a hummingbird fluttering, Lestat’s racing heart unable to keep up. When he looked to Louis, his eyes were wide with wonder. “Already going strong.” Dr. James said. Lestat was crushing Louis’ hand. It’s real. Louis is actually pregnant.
Next to him, Louis put his head down into his hands and started to sob. Dr. James didn’t seem to be too surprised by this, speaking with the same nonchalance he had the entire time they had been there. He turned to Lestat. “I’ll give you two a minute for it to settle in. Keep it short please, the next patient is scheduled for 11:15.” He left the room. Lestat nodded, tears dwelling in his eyes as well. But unlike Dr. James, he knew Louis wasn’t crying for joy. Heartbreaking sounds were wrecking his body. Lestat was unsure if Louis wanted to be touched by him, after all they were only here because Lestat hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. After a minute, he couldn’t take it anymore and put a careful arm around Louis’ shoulders. Louis didn’t stop crying, but pulled Lestat closer to him and buried his face against the front of his shirt, clutching at the fabric. Lestat spoke through the tears flowing down his own face. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. I’m right here with you.” Louis’ sobs only got louder, so Lestat stopped talking, feeling just as overwhelmed. All he could do was keep running his hand up and down Louis' back.
The doctor visit ended on a weird note, Louis barely able to look at Lestat after crying into his shirt for 20 minutes. It didn’t help that Dr. James had been just as tactless about his sob session as he had been about anything else. If Louis hadn’t been completely exhausted from his breakdown, he might’ve caught some of the words Dr. James and Lestat exchanged, but even in the haze he could make out the anger in Lestat’s voice. After that, they had been quickly ushered out of the doctor’s office, some snaps from the ultrasound in hand. Lestat had asked for only one of the prints, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. Louis had shoved the rest of them into his tote bag and had turned around before he could end up in Lestat’s arm for the umpteenth time that day. He had been so hasty, they didn’t even exchange goodbyes. The rest of the week passed in a blur, the reality of being pregnant so unfathomable, it almost erased the looming visit of his mother on the weekend.
On Sunday, Family breakfast went surprisingly peacefully. The twins were ecstatic that their grandmother made a rare appearance and Florence was just as happy to gush about her grandkids. The kids got antsy as soon as they were done eating and Grace let them play in the garden like she did whenever the weather was nice enough.
The adults were watching Thea and Faith fussing with little Benji, who refused to sit upright for their reenactment of a knighting ceremony. Louis had almost forgotten this wasn’t just a normal Sunday morning. Florence cleared her throat in a pointed way.
“I have to let you know, Louis, as your mother. I’m not sure if you should wear high waisted pants right now.”
Louis' hand fell to his stomach. It was a telling gesture in a universal way. His mother's jaw dropped. Desperately, he tried to course correct. “Well, I’ve been eating a bit unhealthy the last few weeks…” It was no use.
“Louis de Pointe du Lac. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not in my right mind. There is of course no way that you’re pregnant.”
Louis swallowed. He didn’t say anything. Couldn't say anything. Next to him, Grace and Levi were far too concentrated on the last crumbs of breakfast on their plates.
“Surely, you are not pregnant and haven’t said a word to your own mother about it.”
Louis' heart was beating in double time. “Mama-”
She leaned forward on the table, folding her hands like she was about to start a prayer. “Because, after everything, you would never cause me more anguish than you have already done.”
Louis felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I just found out, I was going-”
His mother slammed her hands down on the table, looking sharply up at Louis. “Going to what? Inform me like I’m some annoying auntie you only talk to on christmas?”
Louis wanted to tell her he spoke to his aunts and uncles a lot more than he did to her. He wanted to scream at Grace for even letting Florence sit across from him at the diner table. He wanted to storm out, cross the yard and bury himself in his bed and think of nothing else.
But he didn’t do any of this, couldn’t really. Because, loathe as he was to admit it, his mother was right. It had been him who was burdening his family with another one of those “undesirable” tendencies of himself. It had been him that had been careless. It had been him that hadn’t paid enough attention. It had been him that spoke to Paul last - Don’t go there. This has nothing to do with that. He could feel the familiar coldness creep up his back, his fingers trembling, at the same time his extremities felt heavy, like they had been ironcast. His eyes started to sting and the voice of his mother faded in and out of his ears, he was unable to gasp any of what she was saying. I can’t cry in front of her. I just have to sit through her tirade. All I have to do is hold it in until she’s gone. Florence had noticed his withdrawal from the conversation, if you could call it that, and, as a reaction, became increasingly overbearing.
“-nevermind all that, what are you gonna do?”
Louis’ mind went to the printed out picture on the fridge he had brought back from the ultrasound, that had Grace reduced to tears before he could even say anything. He considered telling his mother about Lestat’s reaction at diner and how he knew he would have support no matter what happened, but what Florence said next floored him.
“You’re not planning on keeping it, are you?”
He heard Grace dropping her cutlery onto her plate and Levi looked at his mother in law, his usually calm face slack jawed.
“Mama…” Grace's voice was little more than a whisper, like she wasn’t sure she could even form words.
Florence carried on. “You should hurry, not cut it too close to the legal deadline. I’m sure you know enough people who can recommend a doctor.” She flapped her hands around vaguely. “But I can also give you the number of a good Christian doctor. He offers all kinds of treatments.” She trailed off meaningfully.
And she didn’t need to say any more. The insinuation was clear, there was more Louis should be cured of than a surprise pregnancy.
Grace spoke up again. “Mama, you never talked to me like that, when I got pregnant.”
Florence waved dismissively at her. “The situation was completely different with you, Gracie! You had a good man at your side, someone with a respectable job. Reliable income, to take care of you and your babies.” She clapped on Levi’s shoulder and he jumped in his chair, like he had just been woken from a deep sleep. Probably trying to escape the room, at least mentally. “The twins were simply God’s way to push you along the right path. And look at you now, the Lord even gave you a son, sweet little Benjamin.” His mother was the only one that called Benji that. She raised her eyebrows at Louis and asked in a mocking tone. “So, what does your baby daddy do for a living?”
Louis looked at the pattern of the wooden tabletop. “He’s a musician.”
His mother threw her head back and raised her hands in a defensive position, like he had cursed at her. “Dear God in Heaven, Louis, you cannot be serious! Where did you even find some bohemian to get involved with?”
“It was when we were out celebrating. You know, Louis’ big promotion ?” Grace was trying her best to get the conversation back on civilized terms, but it was no use.
“Oh, so you’ve met him, Grace. What’s he like?” Her sharp gaze turned towards his sister.
Grace cleared her throat. “I didn’t see too much of him. He’s real pretty, though! A bit shy, but tall and that beautiful blonde hair -”
“He’s white?”
“He’s French."
Florence's head snapped back to him.
“How civilized!” She pursed her lips. “So you immediately threw all caution in the wind, it seems?”
Grace opened her mouth to say something, but their mother was on a roll now.
“I know you have your…tendencies. And I respect that facet of your life.” If Louis didn’t feel completely wrecked, he would’ve rolled his eyes at that. “But to give it up to the first white devil that flutters his blonde eyelashes at you! Your career has finally started to take off and you’re willing to give it all up to finance some layabout’s nonexisting aspirations and to ruin your youthful vitality for a child whose very conception was against God’s design!”
It was like all the air had left the room. Louis’ head was spinning, black spots dancing across his vision. Even Florence herself seemed to realize that she had gone too far.
“I mean well, Louis. I’m just looking out for my darling son.”
He wasn’t her darling son, had never been. He was the eldest, had to toughen up when their father died suddenly. No, it was Paul who had been his mother’s favorite, but all of that was gone. Because of Louis, as she made sure to remind him, whenever they talked for longer than a few sentences.
He sniffed, trying to clear his airways of mucus. His voice still came out wavering and wet. “Well, good to know where you stand on this.” He couldn’t say where he found the strength, but he slowly rose from his chair. “I think I’ll go back to mine, I still have some things to get caught up on, for the gallery.” He turned towards the double doors leading to the garden. Grace’s hand pulled on the sleeve of his cashmere sweater.
“No, Louis, please stay.” She turned to him, eyes wet too, with a pleading expression. “I don’t want to part with a sour mood.”
What a way to sum up this morning’s breakfast.
“Y’all have fun without me,” He pulled free from Grace’s grasp. “I’ll get outta your hair.”
He didn’t look at his mother on his way outside.
When Lestat dialed the number Gabrielle had left for him, an unfamiliar voice answered, in what he assumed to be Hindi. After running through most European languages, he had to fall back on some very shaky Tamil. This got him another phone number, another round of linguistic charades and once again a new number to call. Troisième fois serait la bonne.
And after about 10 rings it was actually his mother picking up with an exacerbated “Ouais?”, like she was the one who had to endure Lestat’s antics and not the other way around.
“Salut, Gabrielle. C'est moi. ”
“Ah, Lestat. What is it?”
No French then. It always depended on her mood.
“I have some news. Or, maybe a few questions, is the better way to phrase it.”
Gabrielle scoffed. “Questions for me? You do know they put Google on your phone these days.”
“Can you take this seriously, please?”
“It’s always serious with you.”
Lestat grew impatient. Why did he even think Gabrielle would entertain his request?
“Ugh, whatever. Just listen to me.”
He hadn’t even thought this far into the conversation. How could he phrase what was going on in his mind?
“I know you felt deeply unhappy in my childhood. You regretted ever marrying my father, but felt like you had to stay with him. And just when my brothers were old enough for you to consider leaving, I came along, a late surprise. And you had to stay, to make sure I had any freedom growing up, even if it meant you had to give up your own aspirations.”
“Not a question, yet.”
Lestat chewed on his lip.“Did you resent me for it?”
“What do you mean?”
“For stopping you from leaving. For depending on you. I guess, for being born, really?”
Something in Gabrielle’s voice changed. “What is this about, Lestat?”
Nerves were getting the best of him, he found himself rambling. “You might want to reconsider about a smartphone.” His fingers brushed along the glossy surface of the photo print, tracing the tiny shape that had been moving on the black and white monitor. He had asked for only a singular copy for himself, with no way to get one to his mother. His original plan had been to put it on the kitchen fridge so the entire house could be amazed by it. Now that he held the tiny print in his hands, he was sure it would stay with him at all times, the physical proof that the fluttering heartbeat he had heard a week before belonged to someone. “I’m sure you want to see this for yourself.” Gabrielle was not amused by him talking in circles.
An impatient clicking of her tongue. “Just tell me what is going on.”
“I, uhm, well, I’m-” He felt himself blushing, his head getting fuzzy. “I’m going to be a father. In about seven months.”
Gabrielle didn’t say anything, but he could hear her breaths across the phone static, she hadn’t hung up.
“It was a surprise, of course.” He licked his lips. “We just met recently but Maman, with Louis, it is…like nothing I’ve ever felt. He’s always on my mind and when I’m with him it calms this deep ache within me. And still, I want more. I never want to leave his side, I would crawl into his ribcage and live in his skin, if I could. Just the idea of sharing this with him, a child! Something we created together, something he’s carrying for me for the next few months, notre bébé…”
“I didn’t resent you.”
Lestat needed a few seconds to backtrack their conversation, to remember what she was talking about. She continued in her usual precise and curt manner.
“It was the exact opposite, in fact. Your existence, it gave me purpose. I don’t have a very caring nature-”
“No, Maman-”
“You don’t have to flatter me. I know very well, I was…distant for much of your childhood. More concerned with my own mental wellbeing than with another baby. But it was when you grew up, I felt a kindred spirit within you. You were resilient, dreamed of things outside of the old manor’s walls, despite not knowing anything else.” She took a breath. “That’s why I supported your decision to move to Paris, with Nicki. You weren’t made to be tied down either.”
By this point, Lestat’s crying had gotten loud enough that Gabrielle took notice on the other end of the line.
“Oh, this is nothing to cry about Lestat! Don’t you understand, everything is possible, for you, it always has been! If you want to spend the rest of your life with…Louis, you said? Go to him with an open heart! Give all you have to give and he could never hate you. And teach your child to live the same way, d’accord?”
Lestat sniffed and let out a wet laugh.
“D’accord, Gabrielle.”
“Well, all sentimentality aside, I do have to tell you of this fabulous mechanic I met in Irkutsk! You know how the trans-siberian railway has always fascinated me, of course I should end up traveling along some parts of it. Quite surprised how hot it got there in the summer months, but they had conceived of the most-”
Her sentence got cut off by Lestat’s phone vibrating against his cheek. When he pulled it away to look at the screen, it was sticking to his skin, wet with tears and sweat. He saw Louis’ name on the screen and almost dropped the phone. Quickly, he pressed the button Louis had pointed out to him when he asked about it. Gabrielle’s voice from the speakers on the bottom of the device, tiny but still sharp:
“-estat? Are you still there?”
“Gabrielle, I have to go, Louis is calling me. It was lovely to talk as always!”
Gabrielle laughed heartily at that. “Tell him hello from me!”
She hung up before he could.
Lestat immediately took Louis’ call.
“Louis?” he breathed out.
“Oh, are you in the middle of something? I don’t want to bother you, it’s nothing really…” He sounded horrible, voice rough like he had been crying or screaming or maybe both. He spoke without any emotion, completely monotone.
“Louis, what is wrong? Please, don’t ever hesitate to call me! I’ll always make time for you.” Lestat ran his hand through his hair. He wanted to reach through the speaker, caress Louis’ delicate face.
For a long moment, Louis didn’t answer. He took a few quick breaths, like steeling himself. “My mother was over for breakfast. She didn’t take the news very well.” Sniffing again. “Sorry, I don’t care about what she thinks, really. She just said some very hurtful things.”
Lestat felt completely useless, he wanted to put his arms around Louis and soak up all his sorrows, all his sadness, so that Louis could feel light again.
“Is this a bad moment to tell you my mother says ‘Hi’?”
That startled a laugh out of Louis. Lestat felt warmth spread through his stomach at the sound.
“So you got the run down too?”
“Hm, no, she was very laissez-faire about the whole thing, as she is about everything.”
“Oh, they make ‘em like that too?”
Now Lestat let out a surprised laugh.
“I guess so!” He scratched his neck. “Wasn’t always easy, growing up.”
“How so?”
“There always was distance. A distance I felt I couldn’t, shouldn’t cross…” He started pacing the room. “I don’t want that with our baby, Louis. I want to be a presence in their life, someone they can be certain of.” He bit at his lip. “I would like to be that for you too. If you’ll let me?”
Louis hummed. “I would like that. Very much.”
Lestat stopped in his tracks. He felt like he might have to sit down, the room was spinning around him.
“Let’s give it a shot, okay?” Louis sounded lighter, more like the suave man he met at the bar. “We’ll take it slow, see where it goes.”
‘Some time in March.’ Dr. James had said. Their official due date was March 28th. They had all the time in the world.
But Lestat didn't feel like waiting until spring. “Do you have a day off this week?”
Louis giggled. “I have work on Sunday, but I could do Saturday, if we don’t leave too late.”
Lestat couldn’t contain himself, he spun around and punched the air in triumph, no one to make fun of him for it in his room. “We don’t have to make it a dinner date! How do you feel about meeting in the city and just seeing where we end up? We can stop for food whenever we feel like it.” Lestat was twisting a lock of hair around his fingers, again and again.
“Sounds…relaxed. No pressure, right? Let’s do it.”
Lestat tried his hardest to sound relaxed . “I can’t wait.”
They promised to discuss details via text during the coming week. Lestat stayed on the line until Louis hung up, not even daring to let his screen go dark, just in case.
When he was in bed that evening, about to plug his phone’s charger into the outlet, he opened the chat with Louis. It took him a while to type it out on the touch keyboard, but eventually he sent a lengthy message where he thanked Louis, for trusting him enough to call him for support, for letting Lestat comfort him and for giving him a chance to be in his life.
Almost immediately, the little indicator went blue, Louis had read his message. The typing dots appeared and disappeared again. After a small eternity, Louis’ answer came. A red heart emoji.
Lestat watched it slowly pulse until he fell asleep, phone still in his hand.
Notes:
French Translations:
Si j'étais ton mari, tu te priverais jamais de rien. = If I was your husband, you would never lack anything.
N'aie pas peur, je suis là. = Don't be afraid, I'm right here.
Je resterai jusqu'à ce que tu sois prêt à me laisser partir. = I'll stay here until you're ready to let me go.
Troisième fois serait la bonne. = Third times the charm.
Ouais? = Yeah?
Salut, Gabrielle. C'est moi. = Hi, Gabrielle, It's me.
notre bébé = Our baby
D’accord = Okay
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