cord of communion - themasterletters (2024)

Chapter 1: reproach of my dependence

Chapter Text

At this point, Louis would take any job.

Really and truly, any job that paid him enough to survive. Any inborn snobbery left in him had died a long time ago. He’d already been waiting tables to supplement his income towards the end of his stint as a public school teacher, before the layoffs. But the shifts they were giving him were no longer cutting it, not even close, and he was in real danger of not making rent this month.

He’d been telling Grace about it on the way home from a job interview at a private school. Louis had actually been a little excited. They seemed to like him. The pay was abysmal, worse than public school, but he could scrape by, keep his apartment.

“Louis, is this really worth all this? Why don’t you just come home?” Grace asked.

He’d gone silent, standing next to his car, looking down at his feet.

“Can’t do that,” He said softly.

“Why not?” Grace said, “I miss you, Paul misses you.”

Louis closed his eyes, “Yeah.”

“And I know you don’t believe it but Mama misses you too.”

Louis scoffed, “She miss her whipping boy you mean.”

“Now, Louis—“

“I gotta go, Grace. Love you.”

He drove back to his apartment, thinking about the only thing he could these days. A way out. A way to avoid going home.

Ridiculously, he’d thought getting into Berkeley had been his ticket to freedom. He’d had to fight his mama on it something fierce. She wanted him at Tulane, or Loyola, something in Louisiana. She’d even entertain Alabama, or Ole Miss, even UGA. Something in the South. But she was not sending her eldest son out to California for liberal indoctrination, no way.

It was the prestige that sold her eventually. He got her to think of the bragging she could do to her friends. Showed her all the rankings, the alumni. Hadn’t daddy wanted them to get the best education that money could buy?

Naive, to think distance would free him. But he’d only been eighteen, he didn’t know sh*t about money, how completely it could be used to control. Who's paying your tuition? That’s right, me, and I say you need to pick a more useful degree.

Except Louis didn’t want a more useful degree. He wanted to major in English and minor in education. Once more, naive. Naive and high on his first taste of freedom. In a rush of defiance, he told his mother no, he wasn’t going to choose engineering or legal studies or any other degree she wanted him to choose.

Retribution had been swift. He’d been completely cut off and had to scramble to find his first ever job. Seeing as he had no qualifications save desperation, that had been somewhat difficult. He was lucky his dorm and food plan were paid for through the rest of the semester, and that’d he’d put off declaring a major for so long. The next two years were a constant balancing act of keeping his grades up and keeping himself alive. And when he graduated, Louis was the proud owner of large amount of student loan debt, trying to find work in a field not known for handsome compensation.

But he’d found work, and he’d loved it. For a little while, it had all seemed worth it. He’d been a high school English teacher, the kind he’d always loved. The kind that had students asking to eat lunch in his room, or coming to talk to him after class about books they liked, who weren’t afraid to tell him when they were struggling.

And then the layoffs. They were prioritizing seniority, and he’d only been there two years. His principal, Mr. Wright, had been so upset when he told him. That was kind of edifying at least.

“You’re one of the brightest young teachers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with Louis,” the older man sighed wearily, “I wish there was something I could do.”

In the six months since he’d lost his job, Louis had been subsisting on tutoring work and what he made waiting tables. He was behind on everything he could be behind on. The weight of it all, the bills, the loans, his sh*tty car always threatening to break down, and the constant disappointment of the job hunt, was grinding him down.

For a brief moment today, when Grace said, “come home,” Louis had actually considered it. Going back to that big old Victorian in the Garden District, with its antiques, freezing air conditioning, and ever present gloom. He considered making his apologies to his mama, who’d welcome him back. She hated that she didn’t have him under her thumb. Because whatever Du Lacs lacked, which in Louis’s opinion was plenty, they had never lacked for money.

It terrified him, that moment of consideration. Was he really that weak? Go home and what? Go to mass on Sunday? Get a job with one of his late father’s business buddies? Date some poor girl to convince his mama he was “fixed”?

No. Hell no. Louis was struggling right now, like a lot of other people. But he was alive. Going back to that house would be like sealing himself in a tomb.

Louis pushed inside his apartment, loosening his tie. Liam, his Craigslist roommate who was always at his girlfriend's, was actually home. Liam was eating over the kitchen sink, which Louis always found so odd.

“Hey dude,” Liam called.

“Hi,” Louis kicked off his shoes.

“Listen,” Liam turned to him, and gestured at Louis with his sandwich, “You aren’t gonna be as late with the rent this month are you?”

Louis stifled a sigh, “I’m trying not to be.”

He had a shift at the restaurant in an hour. Maybe he’d get lucky and get tables of old ladies all night. Old ladies loved his smile and tipped well.

“Okay. It’s just cause it’s my name on the lease ya know?” Liam said, turning around to take another bite of his sandwich.

“I do know,” Louis said, walking past Liam and pushing into his room.

This apartment may be falling apart, but Louis did like his room. There was a built-in bookshelf running under the big windows on the left wall. He could sit on top of the shelf and read in the sunshine. Off course, not all his books fit on the shelf. They littered the room, in neat stacks and haphazard piles. He shoved some out of the way and collapsed on his bed.

They’d have the decision in a week, and they’d call to let him know either way. That’s what the private school told him. Every time his phone so much as buzzed he’d snapped to attention.

It was early evening, but they were in the weeds anyway. His manager had some sort of aversion to scheduling enough staff to actually work the restaurant effectively. Louis shoved his way into the kitchen.

“They don’t want cheese on this,” he yelled to the line cook, holding up a burger.

“You didn’t tell me that!” The cook yelled back.

Louis knew better than to argue, “I’m sure you're right, but they don’t. So.”

The cook grumbled and turned away.

His phone started to go off. A call, not a text. He put down the plate, winding his way through the kitchen, hoping no one noticed him slip into the alley.

Louis pulled his phone out of his pocket hurriedly. It was the school. He took a deep breath.

“Hello,” he tried to sound normal.

“Hi, is this Mr. Du Lac? This is Kathrine from Westlynn Academy.”

“Hi, yes, it's me.”

“We just wanted to call and let you know we did end up going with someone else, who’s a better fit for our current job opening. But we really enjoyed meeting you and will definitely keep you in mind for future positions.”

Louis deflated, letting his back collapse against the cool brick of the building.

“Alright, well. I appreciate you letting me know.”

“Of course.”

She hung up. Louis gave himself a moment to be truly miserable, to stare up at the fading orange sky and wonder what the hell he was gonna do. Then he went back to work.

“Uhhh. Louis? You in there dude?”

Liam was knocking at his door. Since not getting the private school job two weeks ago, Louis had not successfully landed another interview. His tutoring clients had dried up. Even the Amazon warehouse hadn’t gotten back to him yet.

Louis was laying on his bed, staring blankly out the window. He knew he should be doing…something. Anything really. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“What is it, Liam?” He called.

Liam opened the door and stuck his head in. Louis didn’t look at him, just kept staring outside.

“Uh. Sorry man, but I think I’m going to have to ask you to kind of…move out? Maybe?”

Louis absorbed this silently.

“Cause this is the fourth month you’ve been late on rent so…”

Louis closed his eyes. Released a long breath, “Alright.”

Liam seemed like he didn’t know what to do with that, “Uh. Alright. Alright then.”

Liam left, shutting the door.

Did Louis have friends he could crash with? Not really. He wasn’t that close to his college friends anymore. Only saw them occasionally. He’d had a lot of amazing teacher friends, but they’d fallen out of touch too. In fact, he’d been trying so hard to dig himself out of this mess he hadn’t really talked to much of anyone in the past six months.

Louis sat up and looked around his room. Moving all these books would be hell. But where was he moving them to? It’d be hard to find a place cheaper than this. Would he have to get rid of his books?

He didn’t have time to cry about it. He had to go to work.

Chapter 2: an entrance into a new life

Chapter Text

Two days later, Louis was on his fifteen looking up eviction law. Could Liam actually kick him out like that? How much time did he have? Could he claim squatters' rights? Liam hadn’t given him a timeline and had been at his girlfriend’s since he told Louis he had to go. Maybe Liam would forget to come back?

Louis got an email notification. It was from his old principal, Mr. Wright.

Hello Louis!

I hope this email finds you well! I miss seeing your smiling face in the halls every day.

I have something of a strange opportunity for you, if you haven’t already found work you’re happy in. A former colleague of mine owns a business that matches clients with tutors, and she was expressing to me the difficulty of finding the right teacher for a particularly hard case. As she was speaking I couldn’t help but think of you and your gift for teaching adolescents. I told her about you, and how much of a mistake I felt it was that we let you go, and she was very interested. She asked me to pass along her contact info, which I have included below. Give her a call if you’re interested.

Louis went still while reading the email, then when he reached the end, he read it again. Damn right he was interested. It was not only a job, but a teaching job. He couldn't believe it.

He called the number immediately, not even paying attention to the time until the line was already ringing. It was six, probably too late to call. Damn, that was gonna make him seem unprofessional. Should he hang up?

“Hello?”

sh*t, “Uh. Hello, is this Ms. Kate Isaacs?”

“Yeah.” It sounded like she was at a party or something, there was a lot of background noise.

“Sorry if this is a bad time, but uh. My name is Louis Du Lac. My former boss Mr. Wright gave me your info and—"

“Oh great,” she cut him off, “I’m so glad you called. Are you in LA? Can we meet tomorrow?”

Louis was taken aback by her urgency, “Uh, I’m in San Francisco actually.”

“But you can get to LA right?”

“Tomorrow?” He had a long shift scheduled. A shift he needed.

“Yeah. Let’s say like three?”

“I’m—“

“How much did Ben tell you about the job?” Ben was Mr.Wright’s first name.

“Nothing really, just that I’d be working with adolescents.”

”Just one adolescent, actually. Can you relocate? Immediately?” She was talking very quickly.

“I’d have to find a place—“

“No you wouldn’t—What? Hold on."

Louis heard her have half a garbled conversation. What did she mean, he wouldn’t have to find a place? Just one kid? What kind of job was this?

She came back on the line, “Okay. Look, Louis? Louis right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Look Louis I’m gonna level with you. I've been trying to fill this position for months and I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t want to fire this client, 'cause they’re a really really big deal, and I don’t want word to get around to other parents in their sphere I can’t f*cking do my job, you know what I mean?”

“Sure…” Louis said.

“So when I was talking to Ben about it he just absolutely gushed about you. Made you sound like a f*cking angel from heaven. And that’s what we need, 'cause this kid is a demon.”

“Uhh…”

“So here’s the setup. It pays 100k, you live in, you teach the kid, you watch the kid, you keep the kid from doing grievous bodily harm to herself and others.”

Louis didn’t really hear much after 100k.

Louis knew that in LA 100k was middle class. Louis knew his mama would suck her teeth at 100k. But to him, that was a damn fortune. Frankly, it was more than he’d ever hoped to make in his life with the career path he’d chosen.

Kate was still talking, “You aren’t weird about celebrities are you?”

Louis had never met a celebrity, “No. I don’t think so.”

“So when I tell you the client is Lestat de Lioncourt you’re not gonna cream your jeans or anything?”

Louis paused for a moment. That was actually a really famous person.

“No,” he said.

“You aren’t like a fanboy?”

“No, I mean I’ve heard the name. But I don’t really know any of his music.”

“Awesome. Okay. Tomorrow at three. I’ll text you the info.”

“Well—“

She hung up.

Louis blinked and looked down at his phone. One hundred thousand dollars a year. Louis immediately googled the average salary of nannies in LA. The high end was $70,000. Just how bad was this kid, that this guy was willing to pay $30,000 more? Was this too good to be true?

Louis actually didn’t care. That salary and a free place to live? As long as the kid didn’t literally murder him, it seemed worth it. It also seemed worth his manager reaming him out when he told him he wouldn’t be in tomorrow.

Louis left for LA extremely early, but he was still nearly late.

The AC in his car didn’t work, and it was hot, and shouldn’t have worn his interview outfit while driving. He should’ve changed when he got there. Normally, the no AC thing wasn’t a huge deal, because he could leave the windows open. Except there was an accident in front of him, and he sat still on the road for ages.

So by the time he got there, he was sweaty and extremely nervous. Also, it seemed like the address Kate Isaacs gave him was wrong. It was a residential area, not an office, and his GPS stopped giving him directions at the gate of a gated community.

Louis was going to miss this interview. Maybe the interview wasn’t even real. How did Mr. Wright even know this Kate person anyway? He was going to lose his restaurant job because his manager hated him now. He was going to lose his apartment. And then what?

He pulled over to the side of the drive in front of the gate, and, trying to keep his nerves steady, called Kate.

“Yeah, you’ve got Kate.”

“Hi, it’s Louis du Lac, I’m in LA, but I’m not sure I’m in the right place. It’s a gated community—“

“f*ck, I forgot about the gate. Hold on I’ll get Roget to call down to the gatehouse. I’ll text you the actual house number now that the background check went through.”

He was so relieved he didn’t even care about the background check comment. He worked with kids, he knew it was necessary, but usually, the employer asked first. Whatever, he was in the right place, and on time. Now the sweat was the only issue. That and actually getting the job.

The gate eased open, and Louis drove through, waving thanks to the guard in the gatehouse.

LA rich and New Orleans rich were naturally very different, so Louis was surprised to be reminded vaguely of home. It wasn’t the ostentatious, sleekly modern type of neighborhood he associated with the wealthy areas of LA. The houses were older, with graceful, almost quaint architecture. There were lots of mature trees and lush vegetation. Many of the houses weren’t even that large by rich folk standards. But still, the wealth and exclusivity of this place were evident, from the perfect quiet to the immaculate lawns.

Louis finally arrived at the address Kate had given him. It was one of the biggest houses he’d seen so far. It was a beautiful house. A cream-colored plaster facade, terracotta roof, with sweeping red tile steps leading up to the front door. Beautifully carved ornamentation in white marble surrounded the glass front door and adjoining windows. Above the door was a vibrant mosaic in teal and yellow. Huge pots overflowing with flowers and trees decorated the front patio. Louis got out of his car slowly, feeling immediately out of place in his second-hand grey suit, hurriedly putting on his jacket to hide the sweat stains, trying to make himself look presentable. His car looked like trash left out front.

He was so taken with the house it took him a minute to notice the slim, dark-haired white woman waiting by the front door. She was on her phone and looked up soon after he saw her.

“Oh thank god,” she rushed towards him, her heels clicking on the tiles, “You’re Louis right?”

“Yes ma’am. And you're Kate?”

“Yeah. Okay look he’s trying to leave like right now. So we don’t have a lot of time. I'm sorry by the way. I'm usually not this...let's say frazzled.”

Louis suddenly felt very stupid.

“This is his house?” He said slowly. He’d thought he was meeting Kate at her house, and interviewing with her.

“Of course,” she said, “Come on.”

Louis hadn’t felt prepared before, but he felt extremely unprepared now. He wished he’d googled Lestat de Lioncourt beforehand, so he’d know what to expect, but he hadn’t wanted to learn anything weird that might make him nervous. He wanted to treat this like any job interview. He was pretty good at those. Though how good could he be, if he’d been looking for a job for six months and hadn’t found one?

Unhelpful train of thought.

“Just like, as prep, don’t mention his latest album. He hates it. And don’t mention the blood thing, even to say it was cool. Definitely don’t mention his ex-wife.”

“I don’t know anything about any of that,” Louis said. What did she mean by blood thing? He'd definitely google that later.

Kate turned to him and smiled in relief, “Perfect. Let’s go.”

Kate pushed open the front door. The interior of the house was as beautiful as the exterior. High arched ceilings with wooden beams. Glossy dark wood floors layered with rich, jewel-toned carpets. Elegant antiques and art all over.

A tall, salt and pepper haired white man, maybe in his late forties, rushed towards them, as nervous as Kate was.

“Is this him?” he gestured to Louis but addressed Kate. He had a French accent.

“Yes,” Kate said.

The man glanced at him, “How old is he?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” Kate said.

“I’m twenty-five,” Louis said. Why not just ask him directly?

“Twenty-five? Kate this is hardly the hardened old battle ax of a governess he asked for,” the man still addressed Kate.

“Well, the kid ran through every hardened old battle ax I knew. So I’m trying something else,” she responded.

He sighed, “Fine. Let’s go see him.”

The man turned around.

“I’m Louis du Pointe du Lac. Nice to meet you,” Louis said.

The man turned around, seemingly confused. Louis stuck out his hand for a handshake.

The man looked chagrined and shook his hand.

“Yes. Terribly sorry. I am Roget, Lestat’s manager. Unforgivably rude of me. Things are just…a little bit much around here right now. Please, follow me.”

Louis and Kate followed Roget through beautiful room after beautiful room, up a sweeping staircase, and down a long hall until they arrived at a large wooden door at the end. Louis could hear the din of voices. He was slightly out of breath and wiped his forehead quickly with the sleeve of his suit. Roget opened the door.

It was a study, a proper old-fashioned one with built-in bookshelves of dark wood, heavy leather furniture, and a grand fireplace. Except, unlike a proper study, it was filled with people, and it was loud. A girl kneeled on one of the leather couches, talking excitedly to a man lounging beside her. Another man was stretched out completely on the couch opposite, on his phone. In a window seat to the right two young men were talking animatedly, sitting cross-legged. Clustered around the huge desk directly across from the door were three more men. Two of them were facing Louis, talking to the one in the center, who was leaning against the desk, his back to them. Their faces were earnest, even pleading. The man in the center, tall, with long messy, blonde hair reaching past his shoulders, was tapping one finger on the hard surface of the desk.

“Lestat. The nanny is here for the interview,” Roget called.

Nanny? Interview? In here with all these people?

The blonde man turned his head slightly, and Louis got a glimpse of his jaw, the profile of his nose, “One moment. I must finish here.”

Louis knew, through cultural osmosis, that Lestat de Lioncourt was French. He didn’t know his voice was very deep.

Roget sighed and turned to Louis with a gesture of apology.

Louis leaned over to Kate, “Nanny?”

She whispered in reply, “Your contract will say private instructor and caretaker. If that helps.”

“But will I actually be teaching?” He asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kate nodded, “You’ll be doing a lot of that.”

That sounded ominous for some reason.

“Alright,” the deep voice said. Louis looked over at the desk. He’d turned around.

Lestat de Lioncourt was handsome. Louis had known that vaguely, from magazine covers in the grocery store. Different, to see someone that handsome in real life. Unsettling really. Hard jawline, very blue eyes, and a certain presence Louis could only assume was a consequence of fame.

“Well, Roget, who is to be my daughter’s next victim?” Lestat leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk.

Roget laughed awkwardly, “Come now Lestat, don’t kid. We don’t want to scare him off.”

Roget gestured toward Louis. Louis stepped forward into the room more, moving out from behind Kate.

Everyone else in the room had quieted when Lestat spoke, and now they were looking at Louis curiously. This was not how interviews were supposed to go. Louis took a bracing breath.

“Hello,” he said, making eye contact with Lestat, “Nice to meet you. I’m—“

“Roget, this person looks like a baby dear. You bring me Bambi to contend with my demon of a daughter?” Lestat said, raising his brows at Roget.

All the people in the room tittered. Louis frowned at being cut off. Frowned deeper at being called Bambi. Frowned deeper still at being laughed at.

“I—“ Louis began, but he was cut off again by Kate, who came to stand beside him.

“I know he’s not what you had in mind, but he came very highly recommended, and he’s extremely qualified. And I figured we should go in a different direction. Since…”

“Since my suggestions have been disasters?” Lestat tilted his head and smiled at Kate. It was a little frightening.

“Not at all! I just wanted to provide options—“

“Oh don’t tremble, Ms. Isaacs, you're perfectly right,” Lestat walked around the desk and toward them, “My suggestions have all been disasters. I never dreamed Claudia could outmatch a sixty-year-old German woman. I was almost proud of her.”

“Claudia could have defeated Hitler on her own,” the girl kneeling on the couch said, laughing at her own joke. Louis thought it was in poor taste.

“Let’s not get carried away,” Lestat said, “She’d need someone to drive her to defeat Hitler. She is only twelve.”

Everyone laughed at that too.

“However,” Lestat turned back to Louis, scanning him slowly from head to toe. Louis shifted uncomfortably, “I’m dubious about this young man’s qualifications.”

“He’s twenty-five,” Roget interjected.

Lestat smiled, “You say that as if it’s supposed to inspire confidence, Roget.”

“You were twenty-four when you had Claudia,” Roget said.

“And look how that turned out,” Lestat replied with a roll of his eyes.

Louis was tired of being talked about instead of to, “I have a bachelors in English with a minor in education, certifications in both early childhood and secondary education, I taught high school for two years, and I have extensive tutoring experience. I’m plenty qualified. Sir.”

There was a brief silence. Maybe Louis had been a bit sharp in his delivery. Lestat slowly turned his head to look at Louis, still smiling faintly. His gaze was assessing.

“Hmmm,” Lestat took a step closer. He was taller than Louis.

“Well,” Lestat crossed his arms over his chest, “That’s all well and good but this position is rather comprehensive. I don’t just need a teacher. I need a warden. And by the looks of you, Claudia would have you running back to whatever charming southern village you came from within a week.”

It was awful, how he talked about his own daughter. No wonder she was acting out.

“I never met a child that wasn’t helped by some simple understanding,” Louis said, proud of how firm his voice was.

Lestat smiled again, amused, “Hmm.”

He turned around and threw his arms out, “Everybody out,” he commanded.

The other people in the room instantly obeyed, pushing out of their seats and shuffling towards the door.

“Talk later Les?” The girl called out as she left.

“Mmmm,” Lestat made a noncommittal noise. One of the guys from the window gripped his shoulder and gave him a private sort of smile as he walked past.

Lestat turned back to Roget, “Will you bring Claudia? We should see if she can smell his fear.”

Roget nodded and left with everyone else filing out of the room.

“Alright,” Lestat clapped his hands as the door shut behind Roget. He lean against his desk and crossed his arms.

He addressed Louis. Finally.

“I’m assuming Ms. Isaacs made you aware of the unique nature of this position?”

“Well, some of it,” Kate piped up, “I wanted to let you articulate the full scope of your needs yourself.”

Lestat laughed, “Oh, Ms. Isaacs what a beautiful way of saying you haven’t done your job.”

“I—“ Kate began, looking a little outraged.

“Essentially, you would be everything Claudia requires, whenever she requires it. In addition to teaching her what a child her age ought to know, you would take her everywhere she needs to go. You would ensure she is eating and sleeping properly. That she gets enough exercise. That’s she has enough social activities to keep her from becoming strange. Everything.”

Lestat de Lioncourt was looking to hire a parent.

He continued, “I will be going on this godforsaken tour in a few months, and my goal was to have this position filled and firmly established so I could travel with an easy mind. So if you are going to be successful here, you must be successful quickly, understood?”

Louis hardly knew what to say to all that except, “Can I ask a question?”

Lestat made a gesture of permission.

“Why isn’t she in school?”

Lestat looked at him for a long moment, and then laughed, wearily and darkly.

“Because there is no cage built that could contain her,” he replied.

The door opened and Roget came back, followed by a young girl.

She was adorable. Round cheeks, big green eyes, lots of curly hair. But she looked irritated and had her arms crossed.

“Bonjour mon enfant terrible,” Lestat said, “Meet your prospective new minder,” he gestured to Louis.

Louis turned toward her. She gave him a long hard stare. He walked closer and held out his hand to shake.

“I’m Louis. Louis de Pointe du Lac. You can just call me Louis.”

She ignored his outstretched hand and turned to her father.

“You got a black one this time. Never tried a black one before,” she said.

Kate’s eyes widened. Roget cringed. Lestat sighed.

“Do you think I’ll be nicer to this one because he’s black Lestat? Do you think all black people like each other?”

She called her father Lestat. To Louis’s sense of southern propriety, this was unimaginable.

“No, I’ve known you to hate several black people in our acquaintance Claudia,” Lestat said.

“He’s also a man. Do you think hiring a man will intimidate me?” She asked, accusatory, her eyes narrowed.

“Claudia I have people to hire people for me. I didn’t know his race or gender before he arrived. Now, do you have any actual questions for this gentleman before I make my decision regarding his employment?”

Claudia turned back to Louis, staring at him for another long moment. Louis just looked back.

“No,” she said. Then she turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Lestat sighed again rather dramatically, tossing his hair.

“Well, that was predictably unproductive,” Lestat said, “Thank you for your time….”

“Louis,” Louis supplied.

“Yes. Louis. Louis. You don’t speak French do you?”

“I do, actually,” Louis said. His whole family did, as a point of pride.

“Hmm,” Lestat looked away from him, “I’ve always wanted her to learn,” he said absently. Then he looked to Roget.

“Please escort Louis out.”

Lestat turned away. Louis watched him for a moment as he walked around his desk and picked up his phone. Really very handsome. But then most celebrities were.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Lioncourt,” Louis said.

Lestat glanced up and gave him a brief smile before looking back down, “And you for yours.”

Louis left the room, joining Roget and Kate out in the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

He looked between them, “How do you think it went?”

They glanced at each other.

Roget shrugged, “There’s no way to know. Not until he tells you.”

For a moment Louis even questioned if he wanted this job. Lestat de Lioncourt was clearly a terrible parent, and Claudia de Lioncourt was clearly a very unhappy child. Roget and Kate were clearly somewhat scared of him. And who had been all those people, just hanging around? What kind of household would Louis be moving into?

Then he remembered 100k and a free place to live.

“We’ll be in touch,” Roget nodded reassuringly.

Louis thanked Roget and Kate, then left the beautiful house, got in his sh*tty car, and started the six hour drive home. He played the interview over and over in his head. If you could even call it an interview.

This was his lifeline. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure he could make this work. Sure, Claudia had been hostile, but he’d taught high school, he knew all about that. And he’d probably hardly ever have to see her father or his hangers on, especially if he was going on some big tour soon. It wasn’t the hardest job in the world, caring for one child, not even close. She was already twelve, largely self-sufficient. And she really seemed like she needed someone to care. Her father had been so negative, so dismissive. Maybe Louis could have a positive impact somehow?

It would be great to teach again, even just one student. And what kind of resources did a man that wealthy have anyway? He could make learning really fun for her.

Louis was starting to get excited, which made him even more nervous. What if he didn’t get it? What if he was back to square one?

This cycle of excitement and near despair continued for an hour until he got a phone call from Kate Isaacs.

He scrambled to answer while keeping his eyes on the road, putting his phone on speaker.

“Hello.”

“Okay, you’re in, thank god. I was truly out of options.”

Relief flooded Louis. He released a breath it felt like he’d been holding for months.

“He wants you in fast,” Kate said, “How quickly can you get back to LA?”

“Uhhh, two, three days?”

“Two days, perfect. I’ll be around for the contract and then you’re on your own. I hope it works out. For both our sakes.”

Louis hoped so too.

Chapter 3: equally dependent and friendless

Chapter Text

When he wasn’t frantically packing up his life, Louis indulged in some googling of his new boss.

Lestat de Lioncourt was thirty-six, from a small region called Auvergne in France. He’d moved to Paris at eighteen to pursue music. He was signed almost immediately by an indie label. His first album, Lioncourt, met with success in Europe, but it was his second album, Seventh Son, that brought him international fame. After that album, he resigned with a much bigger American label. He’d been twenty-two when that happened, and world-famous ever since.

He’d been married once, to a fellow musician named Antoinette Brown. Their divorce had been very contentious apparently. Lots of accusations of infidelity. Antoinette Brown wasn’t Claudia’s mother, however. That was a woman named Maya Carter. There was nothing online about her, except that she had passed.

Louis listened to some of his music. It was kind of good, he supposed. Very theatrical. Not the type of music Louis listened to.

The most disturbing thing he discovered in his search were the articles about Claudia. The fact that there even were articles about her was disturbing. He knew celebrities' kids got written about, but he’d never thought about what that really meant. He’d met her. She was a child. A child that had thousands of articles written about her with headlines like “Claudia de Lioncourt Spotted Throwing $2,000 Jacket in the Street,” and “Claudia de Lioncourt Throws Tantrum in Paris,” and “Tension Between Stepdaughter and Stepmother a Major Factor in the Brown-Lioncourt Divorce.”

No wonder she seemed so angry.

In a way, it was a good thing that Louis didn’t have very much to move. He threw out or donated the second-hand furniture in his bedroom. Nothing in the rest of the apartment was his. Mostly he just had clothes and books. More books than clothes. They took up his whole backseat and some of the trunk.

Liam claimed to be sad to see him go, but he wasn’t. He was obviously relieved to be saved the trouble of evicting Louis.

So when Louis hauled his last suitcase to the car and shut the trunk, he really didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to. No one who would care that he was leaving.

He could call Grace. He still hadn’t told her about the job. But she would want details. She’d get to googling just like him. He could just hear her. Why are you doing this Louis? Would you really rather be some child’s live-in servant than come home?

Yes, he really would.

He hit the road. Traffic was awful of course, and he’d gotten a late start, so it was early evening by the time he was back in LA. Roget had emailed a bunch of paperwork to sign, a lot of it about security, so when he got to the gate, he was let in.

When he pulled out front, Roget was waiting for him outside.

“Security told me you were here. When you take Claudia’s car you won’t even have to stop, they’ll let you right in.”

“Claudia’s car?” Louis asked as he shut his door and went to pop the trunk.

“Yes. She had a car and a driver. You’ll take that when you go anywhere with her.”

“Got it,” Louis nodded. He started pulling his suitcase out.

“Wait. Not here,” Roget said, “The staff will drive it to the garage and unload it for you. I was just meeting you out here so we could talk.”

“Oh,” Louis put his suitcase back and shut the trunk.

The staff. That reminded Louis of his mama. She loved to talk about the staff. About the impossibility of finding good staff. About the many failings of the staff she did have. Louis was part of the staff now he supposed.

An engine purred behind them, and Louis turned around. Another car was pulling into the circular driveway, behind Louis’s car. It was Lestat, driving a cream-colored convertible with whitewall tires. An old car, 1950s if Louis had to guess, in pristine condition. It was gorgeous. Lestat cut off the engine.

“Roget what is this…vehicle doing marring the beauty of my front garden,” Lestat called, gesturing to Louis’s car as he alighted from his own. He was wearing all white, matching the car, and had dark purple sunglasses on, though the sun was fading fast. His hair was windswept, a bit wild, glinting gold in the soft sun. Louis understood why he was a star. Normal people didn’t look like that.

“It’s Louis’s car. Claudia’s new instructor.”

“I recall. We are getting rid of this vehicle though, no?”

“No,” Louis said without even meaning to, “I ain’t getting rid of my car. Sir.”

Lestat looked over at Louis. He shoved his sunglasses into his hair and walked toward him. More like swaggered actually.

“I can assure you, Louis, that I will provide you with on-demand transportation as a part of your work. There is no need for this,” he gestured dismissively.

“I appreciate that Mr. Lioncourt, but I would prefer to keep my own method of transportation.”

Lestat tilted his head, made a face of annoyance, “You really can’t mean to have this car live next to my beautiful Roadmaster Riviera here, or any of her lovely sisters?”

This guy was a lot.

“They look fine next to each other to me,” Louis said, going for obliging.

Mr. Lioncourt gave him a baleful look.

“You are lucky I didn’t hire you for your taste,” he said, walking past him and into the house. Apparently, he was done with them.

Ok. Well. Louis turned to Roget, who gave him an apologetic smile.

“We’ll move your car later when the driver moves Lestat’s. Don’t worry. I’ll show you to your room, and give you a tour.”

They walked inside. Roget gave him a very thorough tour, pointing out all the historic woodwork, the priceless paintings, the rare antiques. He took him to the several terraces with breathtaking views, to the gorgeous arched glass solarium, to the kitchen where a chef was preparing dinner. Finally, they went to Louis’s new room.

It was so lovely. Large, with pitched wood beam ceilings and big windows looking over a copse of trees and the city below. It had its own attached bathroom. Louis felt a surge of gratitude. He’d have a place to lay his head. A very nice place.

“Claudia’s room is also in this wing, at the other end. The master bedroom is in the opposite wing. There is usually staff around at all hours, and there’s always security personnel, but you three are the only ones that actually live here.”

Louis nodded, “Thank you for the tour.”

“Of course,” Roget nodded in return, “If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll let you get settled in.”

“I do have a question actually,” a question he’d be turning over in his mind since he’d heard about the job, “What did she do, Claudia? To all the other people you hired?”

Roget sighed, pursing his lips, “Let’s just say she has a very sharp tongue and a very strong will.”

That told Louis nothing.

“You can’t be more specific?”

Roget spoke with extreme reluctance, “Most of it was simply verbal abuse and refusing to learn or do anything she didn’t want to.”

Simply verbal abuse?

“But…”

“But…” Louis gestured encouragingly.

“She was kicked out of most of her schools for fighting. One for having a knife. One for starting a fire.”

Louis’s mouth dropped open slightly. That was extreme behavior, especially for a twelve year old.

“Is she seeing someone?” Louis asked.

“Oh, she’s seeing everyone,” Roget nodded, “Therapist, child psychologist, anger management. She hasn’t been particularly violent since Lestat pulled her out of school altogether."

Louis wasn’t particularly reassured by this. His nerves started to come back. Once again he wondered what kind of household he’d up and moved himself into. But it was too late to turn back now.

“Well. Okay then. I guess I should get my stuff.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Roget, “I’ll have it sent up, and if you give me your keys I’ll have the chauffeur move your car.”

Louis kind of didn’t want to do that, but Roget was holding out his hand so solicitously that Louis handed over his keys.

Roget left him. He looked around his room a little more. The closet was quadruple the size he would need for his wardrobe. There was no bookshelf, but he didn’t mind. He could put his books in the windowsill and on top of the dresser.

He went to go find Claudia, just to say hi. They’d start fresh tomorrow. Kate sent over the curriculum Claudia was learning from with the contract. It was typical, nearly identical to state standards. He could make it interesting for her, he was sure.

He wandered for a good ten minutes, having no luck finding her. He ended up in the kitchen, where the chef was cleaning up.

“Hi, I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Louis.”

“Pamela,” she smiled at him, “Do you want me to grab you a plate before I head out?”

“No, no. Thank you though. I’m just looking for Claudia.”

“She normally takes her food to her movie room. It’s just down the hall to the left.”

Louis thanked her and followed her directions down the long hallway. He pushed open the door.

It was a tiny movie theater, complete with two rows of tiered seating of plush recliners, red curtains hanging down on either side of the screen, and a candy counter with a popcorn machine in the corner. Claudia was sitting in one of the recliners, cross-legged with a dinner tray in front of her, watching the screen while she ate. Some teen drama was playing.

“Hi,” Louis walked down the short flight of stairs, “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know I was here.”

She didn’t even look at him, just took another bite of her food.

“Pamela said you normally eat in here. I can see why. It’s really cool.”

She picked up the remote next to her and turned the volume up, which was rude, but Louis was prepared for rude.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said.

He went back to the kitchen, where Pamela was flicking the lights off.

“Hey, one more question. Does she normally eat by herself?”

Pamela hooked her bag over her shoulder, and smiled sadly, “Yup.”

Louis went back to his room. All his boxes had been brought up, stacked neatly along the walls. He sat down on his bed and fished his phone out of his pocket.

He opened his browser, searching “Claudia de Lioncourt” again.

Louis lost himself in page after page of search results, not even opening the articles, just reading the headlines.

“Is Claudia de Lioncourt Lestat de Lioncourt’s Biological Daughter?”

“Who is Maya Carter? What We Known About the Recently Deceased Mother of Lestat de Lioncourt’s Surprise Baby”

“Claudia de Lioncourt’s Messy Hair Sparks Rumors of Negligence”

“Claudia de Lioncourt Throws Fit Sitting Courtside with Father Lestat de Lioncourt at Lakers Game”

“Claudia de Lioncourt Looks Miserable in Head to Toe Rick Owens While Accompany Father Lestat de Lioncourt to the Grammys”

“Claudia Destroyed Their Marriage,” Inside Source Says on Brown-Lioncourt Divorce”

“Claudia de Lioncourt Pouts While Shopping on Rodeo Drive”

Louis had been a lonely kid. He knew early on that there was something about him that wasn’t acceptable, that he had to hide. It put him at a distance from everyone, made him very careful, afraid of sincerity. In college, and afterward, he’d come out of his shell a bit. People seemed to like him. But still, the loneliness was always there, lurking, waiting to remind him of the truth. He could smile and chat and go out for drinks, but true connection remained elusive. Louis thought it might simply be too late. When everyone else was learning how to make friends, how to fall in love, he was busy disguising himself, making sure his true nature never came to light. There was a window for these things, and Louis had missed it.

But at least he’d had Paul and Grace, even if they couldn’t truly understand him, even now. At least his family sat down to eat together every night. At least his every foible wasn’t tabloid fodder. And Louis had a father, an imperfect man, but he’d had him, for however short a time.

Who did Claudia have? No siblings. Not her mother, who was dead. Not her father, who’d hired Louis to do his parenting for him. It didn’t even seem like she had friends. His heart ached for that little girl eating all alone.

Chapter 4: the cordiality of fellow-feeling

Chapter Text

Louis woke up early and started to unpack. His stuff looked out of place in this room. All second hand. He looked out of place in this room. When he lived at home, he’d dressed real fine. He was Du Lac after all. He’d stopped worrying so much about what he looked like when his mama cut him off. He let his hair grow big and full, like she would never allow. He still liked to wear it like that. He wore whatever fit and was comfortable from the thrift store. His students used to clown him, saying he dressed like an old man, in his old-fashioned trousers, polos, and button-ups. So what if he did? He was a teacher, not a celebrity. It didn’t matter any more how he dressed now, working for a celebrity, than it did when he worked at a public school.

At around eight he went to find Claudia to start the school day. His plan was to talk to her, find out what she was interested in, and include as much of that in their work as possible. He was prepared for her to fight him every step of the way, but he wouldn't be cowed. There was the 100k, there was the free room and board, and now, there was real concern for this child. He didn’t understand how so many other educators could have come into this house, seen the way she was living, and just leave her to it.

He couldn’t find her, yet again. She didn’t answer after several knocks on her bedroom door, and when he tentatively stuck his head in, she wasn’t there. He asked the housekeeper, Emma, but she hadn’t seen her either. This house was too damn big. After checking in the kitchen, the dining room, the various living rooms, Louis went back to her theater, hoping she wasn’t watching tv already.

She wasn’t watching tv, but she was there. Curled up in a little ball in the same recliner he’d found her in last night. Her dinner tray was still sitting in front of her, half-eaten. The screen had reverted back to the home page. She’d spent the night here.

Louis felt a burning in his chest. She was so little, her face so vulnerable in sleep. That wasn’t a good position for her to sleep in, she’d get aches. He was angry with himself. He should’ve made sure she got to bed alright. No one else was going to do it.

“Claudia,” he said, not too loud, he didn’t want to startle her, “Claudia.”

She didn’t stir.

“Claudia,” he reached down and gently touched her shoulder. Then he shook it, “Wake up.”

Her eyes drifted open. When she spotted him, she sat up, immediately suspicious.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling.

His hand was still on her shoulder. She smacked it away. Louis started, surprised.

Claudia quickly stood up, shoving her dinner tray out of the way, Louis catching it before it tipped over and food got everywhere. She walked quickly past him. He steadied the tray and followed after her.

“Did you sleep well? I can’t imagine you did, sitting up straight like that. Do you want to rest a bit before we get started?”

She didn’t respond, but quickened her pace. He lengthened his stride to keep up.

“You didn’t finish your dinner either. I was planning on us eating breakfast together. I can wait if you want to rest.”

They’d reached her room. She flung the door open, and tried to slam it shut in his face, but Louis was too fast, stopping it with his shoulder.

“No ma’am,” he said, “We got work to do, you and me.”

He watched her eyes go wide in a perfect facsimile of shock, “Are you, a grown man, invading a young girl's bedroom?”

“Not invading. Patrolling the perimeter. Now answer my question. Do you need some rest before we eat and start the day?”

She took a moment to consider this, “Yes.”

Hmmmm.

“See now we got a problem,” Louis said, “Because I really want you to feel your best, but I have a suspicion that once I let you close this door, you’ll lock it and refuse to come out. Or you’ll climb out the window or something.”

“That seems like a risk you’re going to have to take. For my well-being,” she said, her face the picture of innocence.

Louis couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She was smart, even if she was a smart ass.

“Alright. I’m coming back in an hour. You’ll be ready?”

“Oh sure,” she nodded earnestly.

“I don’t believe you for a second,” Louis said, backing up.

“Then maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” Claudia replied, slamming the door.

Louis went to his room to continue unpacking, setting an alarm for an hour. When it went off, he knocked on Claudia’s door.

He was, of course, met with silence, and when he tried the knob, it was locked. He pressed his ear to the door, to see if she was even inside. He had left his own room's door open and hadn’t heard hers open, but he had a genuine fear she’d climbed out the window.

He heard some movement, thank god.

“You have to be hungry in there,” Louis called, “You punishing yourself as much as you punishing me.”

Nothing.

“Well, I happen to like teaching even if you don’t happen to like learning, so if we got to do it this way then fine.”

Louis went back to his bedroom and grabbed his laptop and binder, then came back and sat down cross-legged in front of Claudia’s door.

“We gon start with math,” he called, “This would be easier if you were sitting with me and I could use a whiteboard, but I’m making do,” He slid a worksheet under the door, “Let's work through these together.”

Louis started to teach, just like he was back at his old job, pausing to ask if she had any questions. No response. When he was through with math he moved on to science, sliding another worksheet under the door.

“See this lesson has a lot of interesting pictures of amoebas!” He called, “You missing out on some interesting amoebas young lady!”

Eventually, he heard a tv cut on. He talked louder. The tv got louder. Louis got louder.

“Now we gon do English!” Louis yelled, “My favorite! I was gonna let you choose the book we read but since you’re being stubborn I’ll pick! Hope you like Lois Lowry!”

“What is going on?”

Louis jumped.

It was Lestat, charging down the hallway, looking furious. He was wearing a red robe, which was billowing out behind him.

He came to a stop, looming above Louis, “I am attempting to conduct business, and inexplicably, I have been interrupted by crazed screaming!”

Louis looked up at him, embarrassed. He’d been so focused on this academic battle with Claudia that he’d forgotten all about everyone else who might be around.

He stood up slowly, “Sorry for the noise, Mr. Lioncourt. I was…teaching.”

“This is how you teach?” Lestat smiled mockingly, “You may be our shortest lived nanny yet.”

Louis felt a surge of panic, but he also didn’t appreciate the threat. This girl needed someone to try, despite her stonewalling.

“Claudia locked herself in her room, so I had to do what was necessary.”

“And to you, necessary means screaming at the top of your lungs?”

“Whatever is necessary is necessary Mr. Lioncourt. I’m going to do my job.”

“Find a better way to do it,” Lestat snapped, and turned around abruptly, striding back down the hall.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Louis called after him.

Lestat paused and turned around slowly, his expression incredulous.

“I’m fairly sure I pay you to come up with the suggestions,” Lestat said slowly like he was speaking to an idiot.

“Yes, Mr. Lioncourt. But you know your daughter very well, of course. I’ve only just met her. Is there anything that she finds particularly motivating?”

Louis tried to keep the censure out of his voice. Tried not to make it apparent that he didn’t think this man knew his daughter very well at all. He didn’t think he’d entirely succeeded.

Lestat walked back toward him slowly, his expression unreadable. He came quite close to Louis, looking down at him. Uncomfortably close. Close enough that Louis noticed how good he smelled, something rich and spicy wafting off him. His robe was open, revealing his thin tank top, the taunt line of his waist, the loose silky pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. He said he was conducting business. Who conducted business looking like that?

Louis took a step back.

Lestat reached up a hand and knocked on Claudia’s door. Right, he was just coming to stand near the door.

“Claudia,” he called, still looking at Louis, “You will come out and do your schoolwork or I will shut off your wifi. As I will remove it from your wing of the house entirely, so you can’t turn it back on yourself.”

No response from Claudia.

“I will also turn off your hotspot. I’ve learned my lesson quite thoroughly.”

After a moment the door was yanked open, and a furious Claudia shot her father a look that would’ve gotten Louis popped upside the head.

“Who taught you about hot spots, Lestat? One of your groupies?” She sneered.

“Yes. They also taught me about VPNs. Your days are numbered.”

She shot him another dirty look, shoved past them both, and walked downstairs.

Lestat watched her for a moment, then turned back to Louis.

“There, I’ve helped. Does that meet your satisfaction?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I was looking for something to motivate her, not to threaten her,” Louis replied honestly.

Lestat blinked, a look of indignation coming over his face, “She is motivated by threats.”

“You don’t understand Mr. Lioncourt. I’m trying to be on her side.”

“You don’t think I'm on her side,” Lestat’s brows lowered, and so did his voice. He stepped close to Louis again. His robe slipped off his shoulder. A very muscled shoulder.

Louis took another step back, leaned down, and picked up his laptop, binder, and the worksheets he’d slid under Claudia’s door, holding them to his chest. Lestat made him uncomfortable, and Louis wanted to leave before he said too much. He'd probably already said too much. His ears were burning for some reason.

“Not at all. I'm sure you are. I just also want to be on her side. This a start though,” Louis nodded to Lestat as he walked around him, “Have a good rest of your day, sir. Sorry again about the noise.”

He found Claudia in the kitchen, as he suspected he would, she had to be hungry. She’d poured herself a huge bowl of cereal and was sitting in the breakfast nook, shoveling it into her mouth. Louis put down his stuff, got his own bowl of cereal, and sat opposite her. They ate in silence for a while.

“He’s going to forget you know,” Claudia said suddenly, “He’s going to forget he ever even said he was going to turn my wifi off, and I’m going to go back to doing whatever I want.”

Louis’s heart ached at the defiance on her face, the hard look in her eyes.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

She stilled. She seemed taken aback by the question.

“Shut up!’ Someone yelled, laughing, “He did not!”

Three people walked into the kitchen, not acknowledging his or Claudia’s presence. It was some of the people from the day Louis interviewed. The young woman and two of the guys. They started opening and closing drawers, talking and laughing. Louis looked over at Claudia, who was glaring at them.

“Hey y’all,” Louis called, “Can you just grab your food and go eat somewhere else? We’re about to start doing schoolwork in here.”

The conversation stopped abruptly. The three of them turned to look at Louis like they were just noticing he was there.

“Uhhh,” one of the guys said, “We’re just getting some lunch dude.”

“Okay, can you get it and leave?” Louis said, “And be a little quieter. We’re learning right now.”

They seemed truly baffled by this request.

“Yeah, um. Les lets us eat here while we rehearse. So…” the girl said, looking at him like he was crazy.

“I’m not trying to stop you from eating. I’m asking you not to be so disruptive.”

They looked at each other in disbelief, smiling and rolling their eyes, picking up the food they’d pillaged and shuffling out.

Louis turned back to Claudia, “Are they around a lot?”

“Yes,” she said flatly.

“You don’t like them do you?” he asked.

“They’re idiots,” she said.

Louis laughed, and she looked at him suspiciously.

“Are they in your dad’s band?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes narrowing even further.

“Cool,” Louis picked up his spoon, “You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?”

She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, looking at him consideringly.

“What is your name again?” she asked.

“Louis,” he said.

“Well, Louis. I want to be left alone,” she said, “So let's make a deal. I saw your car in the garage. Clearly you need this job. I’ll tell Lestat you’re the best teacher a girl has ever had, and you can spend your time doing whatever it is country bumpkins who have moved to the big city like to do.”

She didn’t have any idea how young she looked, sitting there talking a big game, insulting him. She didn’t have any idea how obvious it was to Louis that being alone was the last thing she wanted.

“No can do,” he leaned towards her, “You see Miss Claudia, I was hired to teach. And I actually quite like teaching. So…” he gestured aimlessly.

Her face twitched in irritation.

“And you’re right. I do need this job. So it’s going to be pretty hard to get rid of me.”

Louis could see by the resolve that came over her face that she took that as a challenge.

She didn’t lock herself in her room again. Instead, she simply would simply disappear. No matter how early he woke up, she’d be gone when he got to her room. He’d ask the security guards, and they’d check with each other on their radios and tell him where she was, but by the time he’d gotten there of course she was gone. And then, after he’d spent the day alternatively searching for her and wondering what his life had become, she’d just appear. Floating on a raft in the pool, sipping a soda. Watching a movie in the theater. Getting dinner in the kitchen.

After the third day of this, when he found her collecting her plate from the chef, Louis said, “This can’t be fun for you, playing hide and seek all day.”

“Is it fun for you?” She asked.

“No,” he said.

“Then it’s fun for me!” She walked past him, giving him a bright smile.

Normally, he would go to the parent about this, but Lestat had made it clear he wanted his involvement to be minimal, and Louis had meant what he said—he wanted Claudia to feel like he was on her side, and getting her into trouble with her father would not accomplish that.

So during his entire first week on the job Louis accomplished nothing but getting very well acquainted with the house’s floor plan, and running into the many people always coming in and out.

The three people that came into the kitchen on his first day were Lestat’s band for his tour. Larry and Alex were the guys, Cookie was the girl. They came almost daily, often bringing their own hangers-on. Roget was also there every day, also often bringing others with him, though Louis got the impression they were there for business. Sometimes they were artist looking types, sometimes business people in suits, people with racks of clothes, or rolling cosmetic carts. Every day there was a new face, making their way to Lestat’s study like they were all coming to pay homage to the king.

And yet Lestat himself was always in and out, leaving in one of his beautiful vintage cars or being driven in a big black SUV. Louis rarely saw him, which suited him fine. That man unsettled him.

When the weekend hit Louis wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was contracted to work Monday through Friday. He had his car, he could go out into the city, explore. His first paycheck hadn’t hit yet though, so there wasn’t much he could actually do.

What did Claudia do on the weekends? He took a guess and was right. She was in her theater, curled up in a recliner, watching a movie.

“I’m getting kind of stir-crazy,” he said coming to sit next to her, “Is there anywhere you like to go on the weekends?”

She looked over at him, “Do you work seven days a week? Like a slave?”

He tried not to react to that, “No ma’am. I’m simply asking if you’d like to go somewhere. You’ve been cooped up in the house right along with me, and I know you can’t take your car out by yourself.”

She just looked at him.

“What do you say we just call a truce for the weekend? And we can go back to the game of hide and seek on Monday,” Louis asked.

“You must be really poor to be trying this hard,” she said.

“You think this is hard?” Louis leaned forward, “This isn’t even close to the hardest job I’ve ever had. I was a waiter.”

She looked at him for a moment longer, then turned back to the tv. He didn’t leave. Just sat there trying to figure out the plot of the action movie she was watching. It wasn't in English, and there was hardly any dialogue.

“Beach,” she said suddenly.

“What?” He looked over at her.

“I want to go to the beach,” she said, her face blank.

Louis smiled, surprised and delighted, “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

Louis got them out of the house and in the car before she could change her mind. He didn’t have any beach clothes. He didn’t even own very many shorts, just old ones he slept in. He put on a t-shirt and his lightest pair of pants and joined Claudia in the car.

She didn’t speak to him the whole way there. In fact, she turned the frostiness up, arms crossed, face hard, looking away from him. Louis understood. She’d admitted she wanted something. Wanting something was embarrassing, especially when you were twelve.

They went to Venice, and it occurred to Louis too late that it would be extremely crowded on a Saturday afternoon in the summer, and that Claudia would be recognized. But she seemed to have foreseen this herself. Before they climbed out of the car she pulled a sun hat and glasses from her huge beach bag, disguising herself effectively. Still, he talked to the security guard that accompanied them there.

“It’ll be fine,” he reassured Louis, “I’ll be up here keeping an eye out.”

Louis took off his shoes and held them in his hands as he followed her. She made a beeline for the ocean, winding her way between people under umbrellas and stretched out on towels. She dropped her stuff unceremoniously on the sand, flung off her t-shirt and shorts so she just wore her bathing suit, and kept walking, right up until the edge of the surf. Then she dropped into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around her knees. A wave came up and surrounded her up to her ankles.

Louis hurried to her stuff, picking up and folding her clothes, collecting the things that spilled out of her bag. He kept an eye on her. She was still sitting there, immobile as wave after wave lapped around her. Not playing, not swimming, just letting the waves come. A solitary little figure, face disguised, among the buzzing crowd.

Louis sat down, his posture mirroring Claudia’s. He dug his toes into the sand. The sun beat down on the back of his neck. The people were loud sure, but the ocean was louder. He let the sound wash over him.

Thirty minutes passed. She was still just sitting. Maybe she had the right idea. It was nice on the sand. It’d be nicer in the water.

Louis rolled up his pants legs as high as they would go. He fished her phone out of her bag and put it in his shirt pocket with his own, tying the bag shut. Then he walked down to the water. He squatted beside her, resting his arms on his knees. She didn’t look at him. He didn’t expect her to.

A wave came, surrounding their feet in cool water. Then it rushed back out again, the sand slipping out from around their feet. She did have the right idea. All the other people faded. There was just them and the ocean, the ceaseless motion, ceaseless sound. Louis didn’t know how long they sat there. Eventually, he just sat all the way down, not caring anymore if his pants got wet. The sun beat a little less hot after a while. The tide began to shift, retreating back into the sea. When the waves no longer reached them Claudia stood.

Louis stood with her. They walked back to her stuff, thankfully undisturbed. She pulled out a towel and dried herself hurriedly, throwing it down. He picked up the towel. His pants were soaked, he’d sit on it in the car.

She didn’t say anything on the drive home either, but it wasn’t the frosty silence of before. It was the silence of a tired little kid coming home from a day at the beach.

She was leaning heavily against the window, and Louis realized she’d fallen asleep. Her head was resting on her hands, her feet curled up next to her.

She was heavy, and it was hard to get her out of the car without waking her, and he should wake her. She needed to get out of these wet clothes. But he just couldn’t. So Louis carefully picked her up, cradling her head on his shoulder, and walked with her inside. But a soon as they crossed the threshold, she started, gasping awake.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, putting her down, holding her shoulders to make sure she was steady, “I was just gonna let you nap. Put you on the couch or something.”

She blinked at him, her expression confused.

“You were real beat. Makes sense. It was a hot day.”

She stepped back, his hands sliding off her shoulders.

“You hungry?” He asked.

She nodded slowly.

“Alright, I’ll get us something.”

She didn’t speak to him for the rest of the evening. Not when he told her to go rinse the ocean off her and change. Not when he got them lemonade, chips, and sandwiches to eat, taking them to her theater without her having to ask. Not when they watched some scary movie Louis didn’t find at all appropriate for a girl her age, though he let it go. Not when she fell asleep again in her theater recliner, and Louis, not wanting to risk startling her again, woke her up gently, and walked back with her to her room.

Chapter 5: children can feel, but they cannot analyze their feelings

Chapter Text

When Louis woke up Sunday morning, Claudia was in his room. He’d shut off his alarm and rolled over, letting his eyes drift closed. They flew open again. There she was at his dresser, holding one of his books.

He sat bolt upright, “Uh. Claudia?”

“What do you have so many books for?” She asked, not turning around to look at him.

“Um. To read,” he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“You haven’t read any of these?” she swept her arm to the many books in his room.

“I’ve read most of them,” he said. It looked like he was going to have to be awake now. They would need to have a talk about boundaries. He put his feet on the floor.

“So why keep them?” She asked.

“So I can read them again.”

Claudia wrinkled her nose, “I don’t get that. Why would you want to read a book again?”

Even still half asleep, Louis’s English teacher's heart could not help but leap at this opportunity.

“Some books are so good you want to read them again,” he said, getting up and going over to the window, “Like this one.”

He held the book out to her, Esperanza Rising. When he’d been a student teacher at a middle school the students had loved this book, and so had he, enough to keep his copy.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she reached for it anyway.

“Are you attempting to trick me into homework?” She said.

He laughed, “No, not at all. Read it, don't read it. Up to you. I’d like to talk about it with you. But it’s not homework.”

She still looked suspicious.

“CLAUDIA! IT IS SUNDAY!”

It was her father, yelling at the top of his lungs. She rolled her eyes.

“What happens on Sunday?” Louis asked.

“We have family breakfast,” she said, her voice scornful.

Louis was surprised. He didn’t imagine Lestat de Lioncourt as the family breakfast type.

“That seems nice?” he said.

“Please,” she rolled her eyes again, “He only does it because some psychiatrist told him I might kill him in his sleep if he doesn’t.”

“CLAUDIA!” Lestat yelled again.

She looked toward the door, a look of resolve coming over her face. Louis recognized it.

“You’re not going to go hide, are you? You’re going to go down and eat?”

“CLAUDIA!”

“He’s gonna keep hollering,” Louis said.

“He’ll stop eventually,” she said flatly.

Louis's chest ached. She wanted to eat family breakfast. She just didn’t think Lestat wanted to.

“I’ll go down with you,” He offered impulsively.

She looked at him, incredulous, “That's supposed to improve the experience for me?”

“It might,” Louis shrugged, “I might put my foot in my mouth. I tend to do that around your father. That could be amusing for you.”

“CLAUDIA!”

She quirked her mouth, her expression indecisive.

“CLAUDIA DE LIONCOURT!”

She huffed, “Fine. But only because I want to see you embarrass yourself.”

Louis smiled, “Okay, you go on down. I’ll meet you.”

She turned and left, “You better,” she called behind her, “I know where you sleep.”

Louis laughed. He scrambled to brush his teeth and throw on some clothes, racing down the stairs.

He went to the breakfast nook in the kitchen, but they weren’t there. The cook, Pamela, saw him looking.

“Sunday breakfast is in the dining room,” she said helpfully.

Louis headed to the dining room to find that family breakfast was a formal affair. There was full tea service, a fine white tablecloth, and beautiful white and gold china. Lestat sat at the head of the table, in an immaculate navy suit. Claudia, at his right hand, had put on a lacey white dress. Louis looked down at his t-shirt and rumpled pants, and back up at Claudia. She smirked at him.

“Is there something you need?” Lestat was looking at him, head tilted.

“Uhh,” Louis walked further into the room, “Claudia here invited me to join y’all for breakfast.”

“Really?” He raised his brows, “Did she turn you to her side? Is a coup about to be staged?”

“It would be impolite to coup over breakfast,” Louis said, coming to stand behind the chair across from Claudia

“Well, thank heaven for your manners. Still, I find it strange, daughter, that you would invite someone to a meal you don’t even want to attend yourself,” Lestat looked over at Claudia.

“He’s a human shield,” Claudia said, taking a sip of her orange juice.

“Ahhhh,” Lestat nodded, “Very well then, you may join us so that ma fille need not endure my attention alone.”

Lestat stood and went to tell Pamela another plate would be needed. Louis leaned over to Claudia as he sat down, “Human shield?”

She shrugged but smiled a little.

Lestat came back and sat, reclining easily in his chair. He leveled his sharp blue gaze at Louis. Louis looked down.

“Well Louis, how are you enjoying life here so far?” Lestat asked, picking up his teacup and taking a sip.

“Very much, thank you,” Louis said.

“Very much. Interesting,” his accent was very particular, it made every word sound musical, “I seem to recall stumbling across you having some sort of volume war with your pupil.”

“Well, yes. But we’ve worked it out. We’re getting along just fine now,” Louis nodded at Claudia, who was observing him keenly.

“Really?” Lestat asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Really,” Louis said, “We even went to the beach yesterday.”

Lestat’s smirk dropped. He looked over at Claudia, looked back at Louis. Damn. Was he not supposed to take her to the beach? Had anyone mentioned that to him?

But Lestat summoned another smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m glad. She has always enjoyed the ocean.”

Louis looked at Claudia, who was looking down at her lap.

Pamela came in with the food. Crepes, with strawberries and some rich whipped cream, drizzled with chocolate.

Claudia immediately dug into her food, elbows on the table. Lestat began to eat as well. Neither of them spoke.

Did they not have anything to say to each other? Was this what it was always like?

Louis broke the silence, “Claudia since you like the beach we can do some science lessons there if you’d like?”

She looked up at him, genuine interest on her face. But she quashed it, her face going blank again, “I don’t go to the beach to do school.”

Louis nodded, keeping his voice casual, “Alright. It was just an idea.”

More silence. The sound of genuinely silver silverware hitting fine china. Father and daughter not looking at one another, instead looking down with matching gazes of disinterest.

Louis made another foray, “What’s your favorite subject?” He asked Claudia.

She stabbed a strawberry with her knife, “I don’t have one. They're all equally boring.”

“Well mine’s English,” Louis replied, like they were having a pleasant conversation, “What was your favorite topic in school Mr. Lioncourt?”

There was a brief pause. Then Claudia said, in a taunting voice, “Yeah Lestat. What was your favorite subject?”

Louis looked at Lestat. Lestat was looking at Claudia, his expression unreadable. Then he put down his fork and knife slowly, and turned to Louis, smiling at him brilliantly. Louis blinked. A bit overwhelming that smile. But then celebrities were known for that sort of thing.

“Well, Louis,” Lestat clasped his hands and leaned toward him, tossing his hair out of his face, “I did not attend much school. I did not even graduate from what you would call high school. But if I had to choose I would say I enjoyed physical education and music.”

Claudia snorted.

Lestat looked over at her, “This is amusing?”

“Is it amusing that your favorite subjects are the ones you don’t have to use your brain for? I’d say so,” she said.

“Claudia!” Louis said censoriously, without even thinking.

“Now, Louis, I don’t mind. My ignorance is a great source of humor for her. I would not wish to rob my dear child of the joy of abusing her father,” Lestat was looking at Claudia, a painfully fake smile on his lips.

“Yes, I have so few joys,” Claudia snapped, dropping her own utensils, “You’d be a tyrant to deny me this one too.”

Lestat scoffed, “You know nothing of tyrants. Or of lack.”

“Oh that’s right I forgot you’re the only person to ever have a bad father Lestat,” Claudia said widening her eyes in faux sympathy.

Lestat leaned forward suddenly, the pleasant smile dropping from his face. He looked frightening when he was angry. Louis looked to Claudia, concerned, but her expression of fury matched his own.

“I have worked tirelessly to provide you with a life other children could only dream of,” he snarled.

“You mean you’ve worked tirelessly to get groupie ass and afford the good co*ke,” she snarled back.

He reared back, his eyes wide, “Get out of my sight!” he yelled.

“Gladly!” She yelled back, shoving away from the table and stalking out of the room.

Louis didn’t know what to do. Lestat’s hands were in fists on the table. After a moment he heaved a massive sigh. He turned to Louis and smiled, as blinding and beautiful as before.

“Well Louis, you’ve experienced a typical Lioncourt family breakfast. Now you’re truly part of the household,” Lestat shoved away from the table and stood.

“Wait,” Louis reached out impulsively and put his hand on Lestat’s to keep him from leaving.

Lestat stopped. He looked down at Louis’s hand on his. Louis looked down too, snatching his hand away. Lestat had really big hands. Bigger than Louis’s.

“I just wanted to talk. For a minute. About Claudia,” Louis said.

Lestat looked down at him for a moment, then lowered himself back into his chair.

“If you intend to tell me my behavior is unbecoming of a father, save your breath. I already know,” Lestat said, his voice light.

“No. I just…I know I’ve only been here for a week but I’ve noticed some things and you're the parent. So I wanted to bring them to your attention.”

Lestat reclined in his chair, made a gesture of acquiescence, “By all means.”

“She’s very smart. Claudia,” Louis started. He didn’t actually know what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t let Lestat walk away after all that, knowing what he knew about Claudia. Had anyone ever tried to do this for her? Bridge the gap between her and her father?

“Yes. She's brilliant,” Lestat said, resting his hands on his stomach, leaning back a little more. Louis felt Lestat’s feet move closer to his own under the table.

“Right, and I think she might not have been challenged enough in her schoolwork. She really is bored by it I think. So I’d like to try her on some more advanced material, eighth grade, even ninth.”

Lestat just looked at him.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Louis prompted.

“You’re the expert,” Lestat said, “Whatever you think is best.”

Louis stifled a sigh. That was the problem. Claudia didn’t think he cared. Louis couldn’t tell if she was right.

“Another thing, Mr. Lioncourt,” Louis paused, trying to find the right phrasing. Apparently, he took too long.

“Oh just spit it out, I probably won’t fire you,” Lestat said.

“She’s lonely,” Louis blurted.

Lestat stilled. His expression went blank.

Damn. “I—she doesn’t have friends. And you. She wants you to—She’s just real lonely and that’s why she acts—“

Lestat stood up abruptly. He wasn’t looking at Louis. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything.

Louis stood to, “Mr. Lioncourt. I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s fine,” Lestat said, turning slowly to his right, then striding quickly from the room.

Well. Louis had put his foot in his mouth and Claudia hadn’t even been around to see it.

He found Claudia in the pool, sitting on the bottom of the shallow end. He only had a minor heart attack before she floated back up, emerging slowly, her curls plastered to her head. Did she do her own hair?

“Cool trick,” he said.

She ignored him, and let herself float, looking up at the sky.

“I haven’t been in a pool in ages. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Do you even own a bathing suit?” She asked, “You got in the ocean in pants yesterday.”

“Well, no. I’m gonna get one though. And I got some shorts in my room. So can I join you? As part of the truce?”

She gestured dismissively, which Louis took as a yes. He went to his room and put on his least ratty pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and headed back to join her.

She was on the bottom of the pool again. He quickly went down the pool steps, ignoring the shock of the cold water. He wanted to be nearby when she did that.

She popped back up.

“Impressive. How long can you do that for?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know,” her eyes lit up, “Will you time me?”

He didn’t want her doing it at all, let alone time it.

“I don’t have a timer,” he said.

“Use your phone,” she pointed to the table he’d set his phone on.

He sighed inwardly. She seemed excited, and she hadn't seemed excited about anything in his presence before. Louis climbed out of the pool, dried off his hands, and got his phone. He sat on the steps of the pool, his lower half submerged in water.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ready.”

She dived, over and over, every time popping up and eagerly asking, “How long was that?” Eventually, Louis grew worried about her tiny lungs.

“Alright, how about we take a break? You hungry? You want to get a snack?” He asked.

She shoved some hair out of her face, “Yeah.”

“Alright, let's go,” Louis stood up out of the water, his clothes now heavy and dripping. With Claudia’s propensity for water, he’d need to buy a bathing suit as soon as his check hit. She scrambled up the side of the pool and quickly dried herself off, throwing the towel over her shoulders and heading for the door.

“No need to wait for me,” Louis said out sarcastically, wringing out his shorts.

She pushed open the door.

“Don’t drink all the lemonade,” he yelled.

“No promises,” she yelled back, disappearing into the house.

He smiled, shaking his head. His shirt was dripping wet too. That could be resolved easier. He peeled it off, wringing it out and balling it up. He wrapped the towel around his waist. He’d just have to run to his room and try not to drip on any priceless carpets.

He hurried upstairs, sprinting up the steps and turning the corner into the hallway.

Louis halted. Lestat was standing outside Claudia’s door. Just standing, staring straight ahead. Then he raised his hand to knock.

“She’s not in there,” Louis said.

Lestat whipped his head towards him, surprised.

“Sorry. She’s downstairs though. In the kitchen getting a snack.”

Lestat’s eyes traveled slowly down his body. Louis looked down.

“Oh damn,” he was dripping on the hardwood, “Sorry. We were swimming. I don’t have a suit yet.”

Louis tugged the towel off, bending down to swipe at the floor, patting up his legs. His basketball shorts were plastered to his skin. He was a damn mess.

“Sorry,” he laughed awkwardly, “I should go change.”

He started to walk towards Lestat to get to his room. Lestat turned to the side so Louis could pass him. Louis mumbled thanks. He thought he felt Lestat’s eyes following him when he pressed open his door, but when he turned around, Lestat was already heading down the stairs.

Chapter 6: a change seemed near

Chapter Text

On Monday, Claudia hid again.

Louis was disappointed. He’d hoped their truce would continue into the week, but apparently, that was not to be. He began his traipsing around the house, looking for her. Nothing. He headed to the east wing. Normally people were already coming in and out by this time in the morning, but there was no one so far. Maybe she’d taken advantage of that to hide somewhere he didn’t normally look.

“Claudiaaaaaa,” he called in a singsong voice, “Oh Claudiaaaa. When I find you I’m going to make you do something really boorrinng. Like fractionnnns.”

No response. She wasn’t in any of the various guests' rooms or closets he stuck his head into. He walked past Lestat’s study. She probably wouldn’t hide in there. Maybe on the upper terrace.

“Claudiaaaaaaa,” he called again, “When I find you I’m going to make you memorize all the important events of the Civil War by dateeeeeeeee.”

He opened the French doors to the terrace. The shades had been lowered, so he was surprised when he encountered people out there.

It was the band. They were stretched out on chaise lounges in bathing suits. Larry, the one with the long dark hair, looked like he was asleep. Alex, with the shaved and tattooed head, was sipping a beer. Cookie, who was petite and pixieish, with her choppy red bob, was tanning on her stomach.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, “I was looking for—”

“Claudiaaaaaaaaaa,” Larry sang in imitation of him. So not asleep.

“Yeah,” Louis said, “But I’m guessing she’s not out here so—”

“Oh no,” Cookie laughed, “She hates us. I think she’s been trying to kill me with her mind.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t seem like she likes you much either,” Alex gestured to him with his beer, “Since she’s hiding from you and all.”

“We’re just getting used to each other,” Louis said firmly.

“Good luck bro,’ Larry snorted.

Louis stiffened, “I—”

“Louis.”

Lestat’s voice, behind him. Louis turned around. Lestat walked forward. Louis was blocking the door. He scrambled out of the way, out onto the terrace.

Lestat brushed past him. He was wearing a white linen shirt, open to the navel, and a pair of linen shorts, tied by a very loose drawstring. Louis looked up. Lestat was slipping on a pair of sunglasses.

“Interesting place to find you, Louis, on a school day,” Lestat ambled over to the chaise next to Cookie, throwing himself down, stretching out like a cat, his shirt rising, revealing a muscled strip of stomach. Again, Louis looked up.

“Uh. I was just looking for Claudia,” he said. He couldn’t see Lestat’s eyes behind the glasses to tell if he was actually annoyed.

“You’ve lost her?” Lestat asked, his voice mildly curious.

“No,” Louis closed his eyes, “No. She,” Louis had always been a terrible liar, so he told the truth, “She hides. And I look for her. And eventually, we’re going to get past that, and start the day without the games, and actually learn. But. We’re getting used to each other.”

Larry snorted again. Cookie flipped over onto her back, “Want a drink Les?” she asked.

But Lestat was still looking at Louis.

“She hides?” He asked his voice low.

Damn. He really was going to lose this job. Between “losing” Claudia and all the dumb sh*t he couldn’t stop himself from saying.

Louis sighed, “Yes. She hides. I think she just wants me to keep trying to find her.”

Lestat slowly raised his hand and pushed his glasses up into his hair. He looked angry.

“Go home,” he said, not looking at anyone. Was he talking to Louis? sh*t.

“Go home. Or just get out. But leave,” his voice rose. He looked around at his band.

“What? Us?” Larry pressed himself onto his forearms.

“Yes, obviously. Leave, all of you,” he snapped.

The band members slowly got to their feet, grumbling and whining, but obviously used to being ordered around by Lestat. Louis turned to go to, hoping that this sudden mood shift had nothing to do with him.

“Not you,” Lestat said.

sh*t. Louis turned around slowly, moving out of the way so the band could shuffle past him. The door closed behind them.

Lestat got up suddenly, walking over to the edge of the terrace, facing away from Louis.

“Where?” he asked.

Louis was confused, “Excuse me?”

“Where does she hide?” Lestat’s voice rose again, and he whirled back around to face Louis.

Louis once again answered honestly, anxiety making his gut clench, “I don’t know. She just comes out when she wants to.”

Lestat looked at him for a long moment. Then he began striding towards him. Startled, Louis moved out of the way. Lestat continued his beeline for the door, leaving it open as he disappeared into the house. Louis waited on the terrace for a moment, half expecting Lestat to come charging back to tell he was fired, but he didn't.

Louis spent the rest of the day miserably anxious. He spent even longer than normal trying to find Claudia, failing of course. She was too smart for her own good.

He didn’t want to lose this job. He didn’t want to be suddenly homeless, and he didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to leave Claudia. Who would come next? Would they see how lonely she was? Would they recognize her fear? Maybe. But he didn’t want to take the risk that they wouldn’t, and she’d be alone again.

Like always, when it was too late in the day to get anything done, he came across her. She was in the theater, eating a bowl of popcorn. He plopped down next to her.

“Where do you hide?” he asked.

She looked over at him, “Give me a minute. I’ll draw you a map,” she deadpanned.

He laughed. This kid.

Louis reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn, munching down on some.

“What’s this?” he gestured towards the screen.

“The Raid 2,” she said.

Two guys were beating the sh*t out of each other in a kitchen. Louis winced when one stabbed the other.

“This is not appropriate,” he said.

“Shhh. This is the best part,” Claudia’s gaze was rapt on the screen.

Louis realized with a pang that he would miss her if he got fired. It had only been a week. But he liked her.

“Excuse me,” A voice called behind them.

Claudia groaned dramatically and paused the movie, turning around, “What?”

Louis turned his head. It was Roget.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Roget said, “I was actually looking for Louis. Lestat would like a word with you.”

Louis’s stomach sank. This was it. He stood slowly. Looked over at Claudia rewinding back to the beginning of the fight scene. He sighed.

He and Roget walked to Lestat’s study in silence. Louis didn’t bother to ask Roget what this was about. He’d find out soon enough.

Louis was surprised to find Lestat’s study buzzing with people. Not the band, business types, with laptops open, a couple talking on the phone. Lestat was sitting at his desk. He looked up when Roget and Louis entered.

“Yes, Louis, come,” Lestat waved him forward.

Louis was going to be fired in front of all of these people. This man really didn’t understand business etiquette. Louis walked up to the desk, clasping his hands behind his back. He took a deep breath, “Yes sir?”

One of the business people, a young man, handed Lestat a printout, and he glanced at it, not looking at Louis while he was speaking. The person who’d handed him the paper hovered over his shoulder.

“There’s been a change of plan,” Lestat said absently, “Originally I was planning on having you stay here with Claudia when I went on tour, but I see now that that won’t work.”

Louis braced himself.

‘She’ll have to come with me,” Lestat handed the paper back to the young man, “That’s fine.”

Louis blinked. He didn’t understand, “Sir?”

Lestat looked up at him, “What?”

“Are you saying that I'm...” Louis trailed off. He didn't want to say "fired" out loud.

Lestat made a face like Louis was stupid, “If Claudia is accompanying me, obviously you will accompany her.”

Louis froze. He wasn’t fired. No, it was much stranger than that. He was being taken…where exactly?

“What kind of tour is this?” Louis asked.

Lestat stared. Then a faint smile came to his lips, and he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, Louis. It is an international stadium tour.”

World tour. Louis was being told by his boss that he was going on a world tour. With his kid.

Louis’s mouth opened and closed, “Are you…”

A different person came up to Lestat, an older woman, and interrupted their conversation, “Listen Les we need a decision on the accommodations. These last minute changes are f*cking everything up.”

Lestat rolled his eyes, “Well Jay I don’t want to make a decision until I know the options.”

“I’ve given you the options,” she responded.

“Better options,” Lestat waived his hand.

“Les—”

“I’m sorry,” Louis blurted out, “Mr. Lioncourt can I have a moment with you in private?”

They both turned to look at him. Lestat’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Is something the matter?”

“I just need a quick moment,” Louis said. Twelve year olds didn't belong on world tours. Lestat had been famous for a long time. He didn't know what was normal.

Lestat sighed and stood up, “Sure.”

Lestat walked out of the room and into the hallway, Louis following him. They walked down to the end of the hall.

“Well?” Lestat turned around, gesturing for Louis to speak.

“Right. I’m just not sure…Do you think a worldwide tour is really the best place for Claudia right now?”

Lestat’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m just saying because I feel like I’m making real headway with her, and I don’t know if the disruption of a tour will be good for her academic progress,” Louis said.

“Well you have several more months to make even more progress,” Lestat said.

“Right. Well. Why though?” This was a baffling decision.

Lestat crossed his arms, “Why?”

“Yes. I’d just like to understand how this is…best for Claudia.”

Lestat’s mouth flattened into a hard line. He breathed in through his nose.

“Did you not tell me yesterday that my daughter is lonely?” Lestat asked, his voice low.

“Yes—”

“Did you not tell me yesterday that she makes a habit of hiding where no one can find her?”

“Yes, but—”

“When Claudia was three years old her mother died. Did you know this Louis?”

Lestat’s eyes were bright with anger. Louis nodded mutely.

“Did you know that in the aftermath of her mother's death, she took to hiding all over her grandparent's house, for hours at a time? And the useless old farts could hardly ever find her? Did you know that Louis?”

Louis shook his head. How awful.

“Did you know how long it took me to break her of that habit? Months. And then yesterday you come to me and say she is doing it once more. That she is lonely,” Lestat’s voice was low and furious, “Now, unfortunately, I must go on this tour. But I will not be leaving Claudia behind. If you don’t agree with me, well fine. Quit. I will find some nanny who’d be thrilled to be paid to travel the world.”

Lestat brushed past him.

“Wait. Mr. Lioncourt,” Louis reached out a hand, and it brushed against Lestat’s shoulder. Lesat paused, turned halfway back around.

“I didn’t mean to overstep. I just care about her. She’s my student. I understand. I’m worried, to be frank. But I understand your reasoning. I don’t want to leave,” Louis barely got the sentence out. Would he ever figure out how to talk to this man?

Lestat observed him for a moment, then nodded, “Your concerns do you credit. But my decision is final.”

Louis nodded. This was crazy, “Of course. I don’t want to quit. I want to be there for Claudia.”

“Very well then. Roget will be providing you with the details shortly.”

Lestat turned around and strode back into his study. Louis stood there for a moment, attempting to recover from the conversational whiplash.

Chapter 7: marked line of separation

Chapter Text

Louis started calling Claudia’s phone, attempting to hear the vibration of it somewhere in the house. Surely she took her phone on these little adventures. That yielded no results on Monday or Tuesday. But on Wednesday, when he stood in the living room and gave it another shot, he was surprised to hear a distant ringing.

He quickly followed the sound. It cut off after only a few seconds, but he had the direction now. It had been coming from the foyer. There was no one there. But there was a coat closet.

Louis flung open the door with an “Ah ha!” Half expecting her not to be there, for her to have left her phone in there as some sort of misdirect.

But she was in there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him in irritation.

“Oh my god,” Louis said, his voice hushed, “I cannot believe this…I've defeated you.”

Claudia scoffed, “Please.” She stood up and brushed past him. He followed her.

“I’ve defeated you! You, a master of this game, made such a rookie mistake as to forget to turn your phone on silent. I feel like I should tell someone. I need to share my victory!"

“I don’t know why you’re so excited,” Claudia said, heading up the stairs toward her room, “I’m still not going to do any schoolwork.”

“Oh but I am!” Louis said, “I’m going to teach at you so hard you won’t be able to help but learn. Now that I’ve found you, you ain’t getting rid of me. Today I’m on you like white on rice.”

He slipped past her and went to stand in front of her room door, “Nuh-uh. I’m not getting in trouble with your old man for yelling again.”

“Other rooms in this house have locks, you know,” she said, pivoting and heading for the west wing where the guests' rooms were. Also where Lestat’s study was.

“Oh no no no,” Louis dodged around her again, halting her in her path, “We’re not playing this game on that side of the house. Are you trying to get me fired, Miss Ma’am?”

She looked surprised for a moment, but then looked like she was considering it, “If he fired you I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore,” she mused.

“True,” Louis nodded, “But he’ll just hire someone else. And they could be worse.”

“Worse than you?” She said, disbelieving.

He nodded gravely, “Worse than me.”

“Hmmm,” she put a hand on her chin, “What if they’re better than you though? Less annoying.”

Louis pretended to consider this, then shrugged, “You’re going to have to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

Claudia crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, glaring up at him, “I can just hide again tomorrow you know.”

“I can just look again tomorrow. Today’s victory has really improved my spirits. I was beginning to think you had magic powers or something. But you can be caught.”

She narrowed her eyes further, “You realize your job is chasing a child around all day right?”

Louis smiled and shrugged, “It’s a living.”

She stared at him a moment longer, then pivoted on her heel. He thought she was heading back to her room, but she marched down to the kitchen instead. She yanked open one of the cabinets and pulled out some cereal.

To Louis, this was an incredible opportunity. She was awake and present in the morning when school should start. He wanted to run and get his stuff, but he was afraid to leave in case she bolted.

She sat down in the breakfast nook and started to eat. Louis had a brief window. He ran up to his room and grabbed his binder and laptop, elated to find her still in the kitchen when he returned. He put the stuff on the table across from her cautiously. She gave him the evil eye.

He went and got his own bowl of cereal and sat across from her. They ate in silence for a while.

Louis felt like he was approaching a scared animal that might attack if he made the wrong move. Claudia had her guard up all the time. Even something as simple as admitting she might like to learn was hard for her.

“I was talking to your father. Suggested that you might actually move up a grade in some subjects,” Louis took a bite of his cereal, trying to be casual.

She looked at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“I think you’re ahead of the curve. You’ve probably been bored by the easier stuff. You might find eighth grade or high school stuff more interesting.”

“High school stuff?” She didn’t look up, just swirled her spoon around her bowl.

“Yup,” Louis said, taking another bite.

More silence. Claudia finished her cereal and got up to pour more into the leftover milk. She sat back down across from him.

“What did Lestat say?” She asked suddenly.

Louis looked up, “Huh?”

Her voice was testy, “What did Lestat say? About me moving up a grade?”

“Oh. He agreed. Said he knows you're brilliant.”

Claudia looked at him. Blinked. Then she looked back down and started eating again. Louis’s heart ached. She was starving for her father’s attention. This tour thing was a bad idea on every level, and Louis was still trying to think of ways to get them out of it. But it would mean a lot to her, to even know he’d wanted to take her.

“Is that something you might be interested in?” Louis asked, gesturing with his spoon, “Moving up?”

After a moment, Claudia shrugged. That wasn’t a no. This was a banner day already and it was only ten.

“Alright. Well, since you’re technically homeschooled we can be a little more flexible with what we learn about. So if you decide you want to, we can talk about it.”

“What do you mean?” Claudia asked.

“Just that we can pick stuff you’re more interested in,” but the educator in Louis couldn’t help but add, “I mean, you’re going to have to learn some stuff you’re less interested in, to be well-rounded. But I’ll do my best to make it fun.”

“Fun?” Claudia raised her brows in disbelief.

Louis smiled, “Yeah. Fun. You’re supposed to be learning life science right now. I was going to show you a movie.”

It was a documentary. But he knew she liked movies.

“A movie?” She sounded ever so slightly interested.

“Yeah. About sharks. We were going to discuss it after.”

“Sharks,” twisted her mouth up, “I like sharks.”

From the look on her face, it had cost her something to admit that.

Louis nodded, “Me too.”

More silent eating, and then Louis asked, “You want to watch the shark movie maybe? In the theater?”

Claudia looked out the window and shrugged again, “I guess.”

Louis fought hard to keep a stupid grin off his face. He was worried that she would protest that this wasn’t a real movie, that he’d tricked her, but she didn’t. She just watched, silent, seemingly interested. When the credits started to roll Louis got up and turned the lights on.

“Did you like it?” He asked.

She looked away from him, “Wasn’t bad.”

Louis smiled. There wasn’t a better feeling than connecting with a kid who needed it. And there was something about this kid. She reminded him of himself in her isolation and loneliness, her urge to hide. But she was scrappy, funny, smart. Braver than he’d ever been.

Louis left her to her own devices for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to push her. He checked in with her at dinner time, coming to eat beside her, not following the anime she was watching even a little.

He picked up their plates when they were done eating, “I’m gonna go up to my room. Come get me if you need anything.”

She didn’t look at him, but she nodded. Louis headed to the kitchen to put their plates in the dishwasher.

He flicked on the light with his elbow, and then nearly jumped out of his skin. There was a guy in here, leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a glass of water.

“Hello,” the guy said calmly.

Except it wasn’t a guy. Louis recognized this person. It was Armand Taran, the actor. Just…in the kitchen.

“Um…hello,” Louis realized he was staring, and holding the plates aloft. He quickly went to the sink to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher, trying not to glance over his shoulder. Armand Taran was in the kitchen. Drinking water.

Louis dried off his hands and turned around, “I’m Louis, by the way. I work here.”

Armand looked at him and set down his water glass. He pushed off the counter and walked forward, holding out his hand, “Armand.”

Louis shook his hand for a little too long, looking up into Armand’s face. He was a little starstruck. He didn’t think he was the kind of person who got starstruck, but there it was. Armand was tall, dressed in crisp black head to toe, with a halo of glossy black curls, and his eyes were just as captivating offscreen as on.

“I love Accidents of Dawn,” Louis said, a little breathless, “It’s one of my favorite movies. Ever.”

Armand smiled, “How lovely to hear.”

Louis realized he was still holding his hand. He dropped it and backed away, “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Armand titled his head, his smile lingering, “You said you work here?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m Claudia’s teacher. And Nanny. Type person,” Louis didn’t know what to do with his hands. He stuck them in his pockets.

“Ah an educator,” Armand took a step back and reclined against the counter again.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded and looked at his feet.

“And are you enjoying your time here so far?” Armand took another drink of water.

“Yeah. Claudia’s a really special kid,” Louis said.

“Indeed. And her father. He’s a good employer?” Armand asked.

“Yeah, sure,” it occurred to Louis that he had no idea why Armand Taran was in the kitchen. Was he supposed to be? What was happening right now?

“Uh,” Louis began, “Can I ask, what are you…”

“Doing here?” Armand supplied, smiling at him.

“Yeah,” Louis said, smiling back. God, he was really handsome.

“ARMAND!” A voice yelled. Lestat of course. They both turned their heads to the sound.

“Oh, I’m just visiting an old friend,” Armand said.

They heard footsteps headed their way, and Lestat came charging into the kitchen. He came to a halt when he saw Louis there. He whipped his head to Armand.

“Are you terrorizing my staff?” Lestat asked.

“No,” Armand replied, “I’m sure they get quite enough of that from you.”

“Why did you wander off?”

“I was thirsty,” Armand gestured to his water.

“We were in a meeting,” Lestat said irritatedly.

“You were in a meeting,” Armand returned.

“You own a not insignificant stake in this business, so at least pretend to care. Use some of those alleged acting skills,” Lestat said.

“I don’t want to talk about business. I want to talk about Lily,” Armand folded his arms.

Lestat’s face was immediately furious, “There’s nothing to talk about. Come back to the meeting.”

“Really? She’s calling me now,” Armand said.

“You mentioned,” Lestat spat.

Louis was suddenly standing in the middle of what seemed to be an argument. Should he leave? He didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

The choice was made for him. Armand turned to him, “Louis. How would you say Claudia is doing?”

Louis’s eyes widened. He looked over at Lestat, “Uhhh…”

“I knew you’d get around to terrorizing my staff eventually. Louis, you may go,” Lestat wasn’t looking at him, just glaring at Armand.

Louis didn’t have to be told twice, he turned and started to leave, but—

“Louis before you go, with your expertise in children, do you think Claudia might benefit from having her aunt around?”

Louis stopped involuntarily. Claudia had an aunt? He glanced at Lestat, who was even more furious. He should leave.

“An aunt who has taken to calling Lestat’s friends, begging them to speak with him, to allow her to see her niece,” Armand said.

Louis turned halfway back around, facing Lestat. He had so many questions, but none of them were really any of his business.

“I should—Sorry,” Louis turned and attempted to leave once more.

“Wait,” Lestat said, his voice low. Louis looked up at him. He was still glaring at Armand.

“Armand. Please go back to the meeting, while I have a word with Louis here,” he said the words through gritted teeth.

Armand considered this for a moment, then pushed off the counter and walked towards them. He smiled down at Louis and squeezed his shoulder, “Lovely to meet you, Louis.”

Armand left. Louis felt terribly awkward and fairly confused. Why had his boss and movie star just had a shouting match in the kitchen?

Louis turned to Lestat slowly. Lestat looked like he was attempting to compose himself.

“That was Armand Taran right?” Louis asked, needing someone else to confirm it.

“What? Oh yes,” Lestat looked up at him.

“You guys are…friends?” Louis asked.

Lestat laughed mirthlessly, “We’re more like people who can’t stop knowing each other.”

Louis didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t ask for clarity. He waited for Lestat to speak again.

After a long moment, Lestat sighed, “Claudia’s aunt,” he began, but then stopped, pressing his lips together.

“You don’t have to explain. It’s not my business,” Louis said, raising his hands.

Lestat shook his head, a joyless smile on his lips, “Armand has made it your business. I do not want you to think I am cruelly cutting Claudia off from a loving family.”

Lestat tossed his hair out of his face, and looked up, “Her grandparents attempted to take custody of Claudia when Maya died. Maya was her mother.”

Louis nodded.

“You’ve heard about this?” Lestat paused and raised his brows.

“No, no. I just heard that Claudia’s mother passed away, and her name was Maya.”

“Oh,” Lestat looked down, his faint smile returning, “Well it was not as much of a media circus as it could have been I suppose. There was a gag order. Lily, Claudia’s aunt. Maya’s sister. She was on her parent's side. Rather vehemently on her parent's side.”

Louis absorbed this silently.

“I can understand her reasoning,” Lestat said, “But surely you can understand mine. I do not want someone who thinks my child should not be with me around my child.”

Louis nodded, “Of course.”

“It was ugly,” Lestat said, “I don’t want either of us to be reminded of that time.”

Louis nodded. This explanation only left him with more questions. Lestat had fought for Claudia, fiercely from the sound of it. So why was their relationship so strained now? And Maya, how had her death impacted him? Had he been grief-stricken while people were trying to take his daughter from him?

Lestat wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was staring off into space, his eyes unfocused. Lestat was trying, Louis realized. He had no idea what he was doing, but he was trying. He did care.

Louis spoke hesitatingly, “Have you spoken to her aunt recently? She might have had a change of heart.”

Lestat smiled at him. He smiled so much, and it was disarming every time. His smiles could mean so many things.

“Are you an optimist Louis?” Lestat asked.

Louis almost laughed, “No. Not really.”

“Well, you would have to be an extreme optimist to expect any of the Carters to change their opinions of me. I am the villain.”

Louis didn’t know what to say to that.

“I should get back to my meeting,” Lestat said, “Armand has probably thoroughly derailed it by now.”

“Right,” Louis nodded, “Have a good rest of your evening sir.”

Lestat nodded in return and strode out of the kitchen.

Louis slowly made his way up to his bedroom. He felt strange. The whole situation had been strange. But Lestat’s divulgences in particular had unsettled him. There was so much strangled love in the both of them, father and daughter, trying to work its way out. Manifesting in silence and screaming matches. Louis wanted to bridge the distance between them. He wanted to help them find a way to say what they needed to say to each other.

But what did he know really? Sure, he could make Claudia want to learn, he was a teacher. He could be there for her as a teacher. He hadn’t exactly grown up with a perfect example of familial love. And Lestat was a man with a complex history, which had clearly impacted him in ways Louis couldn’t begin to understand. This was none of Louis’s business anyway. He was staff.

Chapter 8: my share of the gayety

Chapter Text

Louis had no trouble finding Claudia the next morning because everyone in the house was in the same place.

People started arriving early, the noise waking Louis up. By the time he got downstairs to the great room, the biggest of the living spaces, the furniture had been shoved aside and some sort of temporary dressing room had been set up. Racks of closed blocked the doors to the terrace. There were women setting up hair and makeup tools on two long folding tables. Shoes were lined neatly by the entranceway. And there was Claudia in the center of all the hullabaloo, standing next to Lestat, who was talking to a tall thin man, both of them looking down at a sketchbook.

Louis walked over to her, winding his way through the people.

“Um. Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said. And then she actually smiled at him.

Huh. “What's going on around here?”

“Lestat makes everyone come to the house to do business,” she said.

“I’d realized, but what business is this exactly?” Louis asked.

“Oh, costume fittings. For his tour,” she said.

“Okay,” Louis nodded, “Cool. Well, do you want to go get breakfast? Maybe try learning something?”

“Can’t,” Claudia said, shaking her head vehemently.

“Why not?”

“Claudia, do you like this? Show her Phillipe,” Lestat interrupted. The tall skinny man leaned down and presented the sketchbook to Claudia.

She considered it, “It’s okay.”

“Just okay? I think it’s brilliant,” Lestat glanced at him, “Louis. Louis look at this, what do you think?”

Louis, confused, moved to stand behind Claudia and look at the sketchbook. Drawn in a dramatic angular fashion was Claudia wearing some sort of geometric dress. Was it a dress?

“What am I looking at?” Louis asked.

“One of my outfits, for the tour. Lestat says I should have my own,” Claudia looked up at him, and there was an eager gleam in her eyes.

A sense of foreboding came over Louis. Had he thought it would be a good idea for Claudia to know Lestat wanted her to come? It wasn’t, it was a terrible idea. Because now she was excited, very excited, and would be devastated if she didn’t get to go.

Louis tried to reign in his dismay, “Oh. Well, it’s lovely.”

“You don’t know,” Claudia said, waving her hand dismissively. She turned back to Lestat, who was talking with Phillipe, getting his attention, “I don’t think so.”

Lestat sighed, “Fine. But couture takes time ma petite, you must choose quickly.”

“Have you eaten breakfast?” Louis asked Claudia. She needed a normal day, doing normal things.

“No,” she mumbled, flipping through the sketchbook, her gaze critical.

“Let’s go eat,” Louis prompted her.

“Can’t,” she said.

“Mind Louis, Claudia,” Lestat turned around, “Go eat.”

Claudia shot Louis a glare, snapping the sketchbook closed and shoving it in Phillipe’s direction. She stalked out of the room. Louis hurried to keep up with her.

Great. Now she was distracted by this whole tour business. She’d be impossible to engage in schoolwork, or anything else. This tour meant her father's attention, that he wanted her around. What was that compared to school? And if Louis said anything to Lestat, he’d get angry and follow through on his threat to replace him. And even if he didn’t do that, and actually listened to Louis, Louis would be left behind with a devastated Claudia who hated him now and would never be receptive towards him again. What the hell was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to help her have anything like stability? So she could actually grow, be a kid?

They got to the kitchen. Pamela the chef was in there, presumably cooking for all the people crowded in the living room.

“Pancakes on the stove,” Pamela said over her shoulder to Claudia.

Claudia stomped over to the stove and started hauling a stack of pancakes onto her plate, drizzling them with copious syrup. Louis waited to grab his own food beside her, wracking his brain. He had to make the best of this situation, because it seemed to be happening, despite all common sense.

He took a breath, and tried to sound sincere when he said, “It’s nice your dad wants to bring you.”

She didn’t say anything, just walked over to the table and plopped down, digging into her food.

Louis joined her.

“I think we’re gonna have fun,” he said.

She looked up at him, “You’re coming to?”

Louis counted it as a win that she sounded more curious than horrified at the idea.

“Of course,” he said, “Who else is going to teach you geography on the tour bus.”

She rolled her eyes, “We’re gonna get a jet, Louis. It’s an international tour.”

“Oh of course. How silly of me.”

She ate very fast, obviously eager to get back to her father. It made Louis’s heart ache, that eagerness.

Too quickly, she was done. She stood up from the table and turned to go.

“Ah ah,” Louis said, “Dishwasher,” he nodded to her plate.

Damn, where had that come from? He sounded like his mama. But to his shock, she picked up the plate and went and shoved it in the dishwasher. She didn’t close the door back again, but that was something. It was really something.

Louis slumped back in his seat, picking at his pancakes. He wasn’t equipped to handle all this. He’d been naive to think that Lestat’s fame wouldn’t affect him. Actually, he hadn’t thought that. He hadn’t thought about much at all. Just 100k and a free place to live.

But he was invested now. Louis cared about that little girl. He wanted her to make it out of all this. The fame she hadn’t asked for, the tension with her father, the loneliness of her childhood. He wanted her to make it out of all of this whole and happy. A tall order for anyone, but especially for him.

He needed to talk to Lestat. Not to convince him not to take her, that ship had sailed. But to impress upon him the need for routine, for structure. She was always at loose ends.

Louis spent the day working on his future lesson plans, trying to find ways it would easiest to teach on the road. He didn’t know what the rooms they'd be in would look like, or who’d be around. How could keep her engaged with all the excitement? It made his head hurt.

He waited until he heard people start to leave to head back downstairs. It was late afternoon. Hopefully, Lestat would have time to speak with him.

The great room was mostly back to normal when he got there, save for a couple racks of clothes and some furniture still pressed to the side. A few people remained, including the man from earlier, Phillipe.

“I don’t know,” Louis heard Lestat’s voice from the side of the room, “I think it lacks movement.”

Lestat strode into view, and Louis slowed his steps. He was wearing an absurd outfit. Skin-tight white leather pants. A white shirt, billowing at the sleeves. A massive golden crucifix, sparking with rubies, hung down to rest on his exposed chest. Louis’s inner catholic was galled. The rest of Louis though? Not galled exactly.

“It’s not working,” Lestat said, quickly undoing the one done-up button and stripping the shirt off, “I want more drama from it.”

Louis’s mouth went dry. Lestat raised his arms to take off the crucifix, and the muscles in his back and shoulders rippled slightly. He turned to hand the necklace off to someone, and Louis saw him from the front. The dramatic indent of his waist, its taunt, intricate musculature.

But Lestat kept going, “I like these though. Tight enough, but I can move.”

He peeled the leather pants down his legs, bending over to do so, then standing up, nearly naked in front of everyone, nothing but the most close-fitting pair of black boxers briefs Louis had ever seen. Lestat didn’t seem concerned, or in a rush to dress himself. He ran his hands through his hair, brushing it away from his face, “The rest of the white outfits are good. Just the shirt needs to be redone.”

Louis stood there, head utterly empty, face hot, watching Lestat stride easily around, pointing out another outfit from the rack, his movements languid, utterly confident.

What the hell was he doing? Louis shook himself. This man was his boss. He should go. He could talk to him tomorrow.

Louis turned around.

“Louis?”

Damn. He turned around again slowly. Lestat had called to him. His face was inquisitive.

“Do you need something Louis?”

Normal question. Completely normal. Louis’s own…state was adding the huskiness to Lestat’s voice. The faint note of innuendo.

Louis opened his mouth. Closed it. Lestat was looking at him steadily.

“I um. Just had a quick thing about Claudia. It can wait, you're busy.”

“No. We’re done,” Lestat waved his hand, “Let’s go speak.”

Lestat walked over to one of the clothes racks and pulled out a silk robe, tugging it over his shoulders and loosely belting it at the waist. He strode out past Louis into the hallway. Louis had no choice but to follow. Lestat walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge, twisting it open. Louis moved to stand on the other side of the island.

This robe was not covering much. Barely anything really. Except for his shoulders, and—

“What do you want to talk about Louis?”

Louis looked up, “Right. Well,” Claudia. Louis was actually very concerned about Claudia.

“I’ve made some strides with Claudia in the time I've been here, but she’s still resistant to routine. Which will be very important for her while traveling. To keep her grounded.”

Lestat took a long drink of water, exposing the column of his neck. Louis paused, his eyes traveling up, then down—

“Go on,” Lestat said, putting the bottle down.

“Yes. Well, I was thinking she could do with some encouragement from you.”

Lestat laughed, “From me?”

Louis nodded firmly, “Yes.”

“I think my encouragement would only make her more likely to do the opposite of what you wish,” Lestat said.

“No. She listens to you. She may not always act the way you’d like, but she listens, and she remembers.”

A sober expression came over Lestat’s face.

Louis went on, “I think the best way would be to frame it as a condition of her coming with you. Not a threat. Not if you don’t do this you have to stay home. But these are the rules for coming along. You work hard to get into a school routine now, and keep it up on the road.”

Lestat looked away, taking this in. He nodded slowly, “Alright. If you think it will help.”

“It will. I’m sure,” Louis said.

Lestat looked back over at him and smiled, “You’re the expert. Louis.”

There was something about the way Lestat pronounced his name that made Louis feel... No there wasn’t. He was just French.

“Great, thank you, sir,” Louis said.

“So formal,” Lestat walked around the counter a bit, towards him, “Sir. Mister.”

“Well, you’re my boss,” Louis said, fighting the urge to back up.

“Lots of people who work for me call me Lestat. Les even,” Lestat said, leaning an arm on the counter.

“Well, I’m southern. Just my way,” Louis said.

“Mmmmm,” Lestat smiled at him again. Louis wished he’d quit that.

“Well, I’m going to wrap up with my team,” Lestat turned around and sauntered out of the kitchen, “I will speak with Claudia tomorrow.”

“Great,” Louis repeated, faintly. Great.

Louis couldn’t sleep. He was not going to google it.

He wasn’t. He was going to go to sleep without googling it. And when he woke up tomorrow wouldn’t he google it. He was never going to google it.

His phone was practically beckoning him from his nightstand. Didn’t matter. Louis was better than that. It was practically an invasion of privacy. He didn’t need to know. There was absolutely no reason on earth that he would need to know. It was far better that he didn’t know actually. It would be very stupid for him to google it.

He googled it. Snatched up his phone and had the phrase typed into the browser before he could even think.

“Lestat de Lioncourt gay”

Headline after headline.

“Lestat de Lioncourt Spotted Shopping with Boyfriend Nicolas de Lenfent in Paris”

“Lestat de Lioncourt’s New Single is a Bisexual Anthem”

“Antoinette Brown Accuses Soon to be Ex Lestat de Lioncourt of “Sleeping with Anything that Moves”

“Ten Bisexual Celebrities and How They Celebrate Pride”

Louis closed his eyes and threw his phone down on his bed. sh*t.

sh*t.

sh*t.

Chapter 9: my scarely voluntary demand

Chapter Text

Louis and Claudia managed to settle into something of a routine over the next month, despite the increasing chaos in the house.

Once it had seemed entirely too big, now it didn’t seem big enough. Louis set up the school room as far away from all the noise as possible, in a small sitting room on the second floor. Still, Claudia started to get twitchy during the afternoons, wanting school to be over so she could go see what Lestat was working on, or if he’d left for rehearsal yet, and could she come? And of course, rehearsal could run very late, and she’d be tired the next morning, and want to stay in bed.

Louis was beginning to wonder if Lestat had any common sense. You didn’t keep a child out until eleven pm on a school night. Having a child do couture fittings wasn’t more important than teaching them English grammar. And when they were actually on tour it would only get worse.

She was completely exhausted today. Louis needed to have another talk with Lestat, this wasn’t sustainable. Louis had been trying to enforce rules slowly. Claudia wasn’t a baby. She thought she was grown. He couldn’t just say “In bed by ten, lights out by ten-thirty.” Not when she’d been falling asleep to the tv whenever she wanted for years.

Louis left Claudia in the theater eating dinner and went to look for Lestat. Thankfully most of the people crowding the house had left. Lestat wasn’t downstairs, so Louis headed for his study.

He heard voices as he walked down the hall. He peaked his head in to see if he’d be interrupting a meeting or something.

Lestat was sitting at his desk, bare feet propped up on the edge, ankles crossed, sitting low in his chair. And Armand Taran was sitting on the desk itself, cross-legged, facing Lestat.

Lestat was smiling up at him, an open-mouthed, knowing grin.

“And what did you say to her?” He asked, brow raised.

Armand leaned back on his arms, smiling down at Lestat. He shrugged, “I told her my affections were engaged.”

“Idiot,” Lestat shoved Armand’s knee with his foot, “Have I taught you nothing? Adoration is currency. Don’t quash their hopes.”

Armand wrapped a hand around Lestat’s ankle, sliding his leg away. But he rested his hand on Lestat’s calf. Intimate, the way Armand’s thumb was swiping over the fine blond hair on Lestat’s leg. Louis should go. Not a good time.

“Some of us can get by on talent,” Armand replied.

“You think she wanted you for your talent?” Lestat laughed. He slid his legs off the desk, “You think your talent is what people think about when they think of you?”

Armand rolled his eyes, “Eventually people do expect artists to make art. Not just be attractive.”

Lestat stood up and stretched, raising his arms over his head, “Not in my experience. But speaking of art I’ve got to go back to rehearsal. Are you staying?”

“No,” Armand slid off the desk and stood next to Lestat.

“Alright,” Lestat leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Armand’s waist, briefly kissing him on each cheek, “I’ll call you.”

They both made to turn toward the door, and Louis nearly jumped out of his skin. Ridiculously, he bolted, heading for his own room.

Had they done that because they were European? The cheek kiss thing? Did Europeans actually do that? Louis's mind raced with stupid questions. I told her my affections were engaged. Were they engaged with Lestat? Were they together? Armand had said they were friends. Lestat had barely said that much. Were they secretly together? Were they hiding their relationship from the press or something?

Louis shut his bedroom door. He paced towards his window. He paced back. It made sense. They were both famous, beautiful, talented. Clearly, they’d known each other for a while. It made sense. And it wasn’t any of his business anyway. Louis just worked here. This was none of his business. The speed with which he fled the scene, and the unease in his stomach, made no sense at all.

Louis sat down on his bed. Lestat was his boss. His very famous boss who’d been married and had a daughter. Who was a decade older than him and infinitely more successful. There was absolutely no use developing any sort of…crush situation. It would just be a pain in the ass actually. Louis was here for Claudia. Here to do a job.

He stood up. He was going to go check on her and try to talk to her about bedtime himself.

Louis went to the theater. She wasn’t there. He went back upstairs and checked her room. Not there either. He called her phone.

She picked up, “Have you ever heard of texting?”

“Where are you?”

“In the car. Me and Lestat are going to rehearsal. See you later.”

She hung up. Claudia had gone to rehearsal yesterday and basically slept through their math lesson.

Louis was actually angry. For some reason, this was the last straw. Somebody had to be the voice of reason around here.

He called Roget on his way downstairs, asking him to send him the address to the rehearsal space. It was in some warehouse where they’d built the set. Louis couldn’t find his keys. He hadn't driven his car since he moved in. He barely left this damn house, and when he did they took Claudia’s car. By the time he found them, hanging on a hook in the second garage, he was even angrier. It shouldn’t be his job to fetch a child home from someplace she’d gone with her father. The father should have some damn sense .

Louis fumed the whole drive, parked badly, and shoved open the warehouse door. Immediately he could hear Lestat’s voice, echoing throughout the cavernous space. He was at the far end of the warehouse, standing on a massive stage, fiddling with a microphone at his ear.

“I want to use a hand mic for this,” he boomed.

Someone from the base of the stage called back to him, but Louis was too far away to hear. Claudia was sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging her feet, looking up at her father.

Louis charged across the room and nearly tripped on a thick cord in his path. He righted himself and wound through the production people crowded at the base of the stage.

“Mr. Lioncourt, can I have a moment,” he called, not caring that he sounded irritated.

Lestat didn’t notice him. He was bent over passing his headset to someone.

“Mr. Lioncourt!”

Lestat turned to him. He looked somewhat taken aback. He straightened, made his way over to Louis. Why did he walk like that anyway?

“Is there something you need Louis?”

“Yes, I need to take Claudia home,” Louis said, knowing he was sounding a bit too forceful.

“Hey!” Claudia yelled. Louis ignored her.

“Alright. Why?” Lestat said.

“It’s late,” Louis said.

“It’s nine Louis,” Lestat smiled, “But I appreciate your concern.”

“So you done rehearsing then? You gon bring her home right now, so she can shower, do her hair, get into bed at a reasonable hour?”

Lestat’s smile grew even more condescending, “Well this is a special occasion.”

“Childhood development actually doesn’t care about special occasions. And you seem to have a lot of special occasions. Being famous or whatever. I’m sure you're very good at being famous. I wouldn't know anything about that. You know what I do know about Mr. Lioncourt? Kids. And this kid needs someone to get her into bed at a reasonable time so her brain can absorb schoolwork in the morning, and she can grow up to be a productive member of society.”

The words came out of Louis in a torrent, and as he stopped speaking he realized that everyone was staring at him. Everyone. The security guards. The guy with all the microphones. The lady with the clipboard. Roget. Everyone.

Lestat was staring at him. Louis could feel his eyes burning clean through him. Louis looked up at him.

Louis could not interpret the slow smile that overtook Lestat’s face. His eyes had a strange gleam.

Lestat walked further toward the edge of the stage until he was directly in front of Louis. He leaned over, his arms behind his back. Louis began to feel the weight of what he’d done as he stared up into Lestat’s smiling, sharp blue eyes. He’d yelled at his boss. In front of a bunch of people who also worked for his boss.

“Well. Louis. As I’ve always said, you're the expert,” Lestat’s voice was pitched low, only for Louis to hear. Lestat’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, then he straightened.

“Claudia,” he called, “Time to go home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Claudia stood up, her face furious.

“Louis is right. You must get proper rest. It was foolish of me to bring you out so late.”

Claudia shot Louis a furious look. Damn. She hurried over to Lestat, tugging on his arm.

“I’m having fun though,” she said, her eyes pleading.

“That is heartening ma petite, but I’m afraid—”

“No!” Claudia stamped her foot, “I don’t want to leave just cause he said so. He can’t make me!”

Louis hadn't meant to upset her.

“Claudia,” Louis called softly.

“Shut up!” She snapped at him, “You can’t make me!”

“Claudia,” Lestat said, reprimanding, “Calm yourself.”

“No!” She was yelling now, “Don’t make me leave!”

She was scared. She thought everything was ruined, Louis realized. She thought if Lestat sent her away once he’d do it again. Louis had botched this. She was going to cry. Furious tears were threatening to spill from her eyes.

Lestat blinked down at her. He’d noticed the tears too.

“Claudia…” Lestat said.

“I don’t want to leave,” her voice cracked. She snapped her mouth shut, swiping furiously at the few tears that escaped.

Lestat looked utterly lost staring down at her. He had no idea what to do.

Louis looked around for steps but didn’t see any. He put his hands on the edge of the stage and pulled himself up, climbing quickly to his feet. He went and stood by Lestat. Claudia was looking down, her arms crossed. Lestat still hadn’t moved.

“Can you take a break?” Louis asked.

Lestat turned to him, brows knit in confusion.

“Can you take a break to take her home? Get her settled? Say goodnight?”

Lestat stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded, “Yes. Of course. Yes. Claudia, let’s go home.”

She looked up at him, her eyes still glassy with tears, “I don’t want to.”

“I want you to get a good night’s sleep,” Lestat said, his voice soft.

She blinked. Pursed her lips. Crossed her arms tighter. But she didn’t argue.

“Someone stand in for me,” Lestat called out, walking away, “I’m taking my daughter home. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Louis didn’t know what to say to Claudia, so he just said, “I’ll see you at home.”

She didn’t look at him.

Louis made his way out of the warehouse, trying not to look at anyone’s faces as he left. That had been embarrassing. He’d let his anger get the best of him, and he’d taken two steps backward with Claudia. Who knew what Lestat thought.

On the ride home Louis thought about how strange it was that he worried about getting fired so much these days. He’d been so well-behaved at all his other jobs. Something about this position was driving him insane.

He parked his car in the garage and put the keys back on the hook. He wandered slowly down the driveway back to the house, letting himself in through the side door. Should he check on Claudia? Would she actually go to sleep? She definitely didn’t want to see him.

He went to the downstairs living room and plopped down on the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. It was good that Lestat had taken her home. That was something good out of the mess he made.

He hadn’t eaten dinner. He should. But he didn’t want to move, he felt exhausted all of a sudden. He laid his head down on the arm of the couch, and his eyes grew heavy.

Louis didn’t know how long he’d been dozing when the footsteps woke him. He sat bolt upright, startled.

“My apologies,” a voice behind him said. Lestat walked into his line of vision.

“It’s fine,” Louis shook his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “I guess I fell asleep.”

“Righteous fury can be exhausting,” Lestat said, lowering himself on the couch across from Louis.

Louis cringed, looking down, “That was unprofessional. Yelling like that. Entirely inappropriate. I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Lestat asked, nonchalant, stretching his arms across the back of the couch.

“Yes, of course,” Louis insisted.

“Hmmmm,” Lestat was just observing him, not betraying any of his thoughts on his face.

“How is Claudia?” Louis asked.

Lestat smiled softly, looking down. He didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“She’s asleep. Fury makes her sleepy too. You know,” he looked up at the ceiling, “I can’t remember the last time I saw her cry.”

Something twisted painfully in Louis’s chest.

“We were close once. She used to tell me everything,” Lestat’s gaze shifted to the ceiling, “After her mother died and I got custody. We were thick as thieves. And then I went and got married. Like a fool.”

His voice was heavy with regret. Louis could actually imagine them thick as thieves. They were a lot alike.

Lestat looked back at him, “Have you ever been married, Louis?”

Louis almost laughed, “No.”

“No, you wouldn’t have been. You’re young,” Lestat leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “Are you in a relationship Louis? Is this job keeping you apart from your paramour?”

Louis’s face heated, “No.”

“Really?” Lestat’s brows raised, “And I’ve got you cooped up in this house all day. How are you supposed to meet women? Or men?”

Louis swallowed. He really didn't want to talk about this, “You give me plenty of time off.”

“Oh but you hardly use it. I always see you around,” Lestat said.

So Lestat thought he was a loser with no life. Great. Didn't matter. Louis took a breath, “It’s an adjustment period. Requires more time.”

“So pragmatic. When I was your age I worked as little as possible,” Lestat leaned back, stretching his arms back out.

“Weren’t you already a musician?” Louis asked.

“Oh yes. And famous. I’ve been famous for a long time and know quite a lot about it. As you said,” Lestat smiled at him. Louis looked away.

“Yeah. Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” Lestat raised a hand, “And yes. I avoided earning an honest wage as a hardworking musician as often as possible and enjoyed all those famous perils of fame.”

Louis was curious about those perils, but he didn't ask. Lestat stood suddenly, “Do you drink Louis?”

Louis only kind of drank, but he said, “Yes.”

Lestat walked over to the antique bar in the corner, opened the lacquered doors, picked up one of the crystal decanters and poured two drinks. He handed one to Louis and sat down back down.

Louis sipped the whisky, which smelled better than it tasted. The soft burn felt good in his chest. This wasn’t appropriate, drinking with his boss. No one around. But he didn’t want to leave.

“Where are you from? Somewhere down south surely,” Lestat sipped his own drink.

“New Orleans,” Louis said, twisting the heavy crystal glass in his hands.

“Oh, I adore New Orleans,” Lestat said, “Best city in America. Most French city in America. What made you leave?’

“College,” Louis said, taking another sip.

“Of course. And what made you stay away?”

Louis wasn’t looking at Lestat, but he could feel his gaze, and it made him feel pinpricks all over his body. Why was Lestat bothering to have this conversation?

“Got a good job. And I like it out here,” Louis said.

“What do you like about it?”

Louis shrugged, “It’s fun. I like the weather.”

Lestat laughed, “The weather. Oh I can see you are truly passionate about your chosen home.”

Louis’s face heated again.

“I happen to like the weather in New Orleans,” Lestat said, “The heat. The humidity. It’s enveloping. Sultry.”

Louis had no idea what to say to that. He took another drink.

“What happened to the job that made you want to stay?” Lestat asked.

Why was Lestat asking him all these questions?

“Layoffs. I was a public school teacher up in San Francisco. They laid off a bunch of us,” Louis said.

“Pity,” Lestat said, “Though I must be glad of it. Since it brought you here.”

It was the whisky, and the nascent crush he needed to kill. They were making him hear that caressing, seductive note in Lestat’s voice. It wasn’t really there. He meant Louis was good for Claudia. Which was great, cause it meant Louis wasn’t getting fired.

“You have a gift. Claudia hasn’t responded this well to anyone else,” Lestat added. See, Louis was right. And that shouldn’t be disappointing.

“Thank you,” Louis said. He glanced up at Lestat’s face. Lestat was still observing him, and Louis got caught in his gaze. It was arresting. Lestat just looked back at him steadily, seemingly unconcerned. Finally, Louis tore his eyes away. He should go.

“Do you have a passion for it? Teaching?” Lestat asked, raising his glass to his lips.

Louis nodded, “Yes, absolutely.”

Lestat lowered his glass and gestured towards Louis with it, “Well elaborate. Tell me about your passion .”

The whisky was putting the emphasis on passion. Not Lestat.

The whisky had also loosened his tongue, because Louis answered far more honestly than he meant to, “It’s two passions really. For books, and for letting kids know they aren’t alone. Loneliness almost killed me as a kid. Books helped. But I needed more. I wanted to be the more kids need.”

Immediately he wished he could take the words back. Lestat had surely wanted the interview type answer. That Louis loved shaping young minds or some bullsh*t. Louis looked hesitatingly up at Lestat’s face.

Lestat’s face wasn’t mocking as he’d feared. But he couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His eyes were still trained on Louis, widened slightly. Maybe his honesty had surprised him. Hopefully not in a bad way. Louis should get out of here before he embarrassed himself further.

“I think I’m gonna go up,” Louis said, rising and putting his glass on the coffee table, “Thanks for the drink. Good night.”

“Bonne nuit,” Lestat’s voice floated up to Louis as he climbed the stairs.

Chapter 10: human beings must love something

Chapter Text

Louis was trying to mend fences with Claudia. Before, Claudia hadn’t acknowledged he had any authority. But now that his authority had been co-signed by Lestat, she was chafing under it. It seemed to be dawning on her finally that he was here to be in charge of her. Make her do things that were good for her. And naturally, she was appalled.

“Why do I have to shower after getting in the pool? The pool is full of water,” she said, arms crossed stubbornly.

“Water and chemicals that you need to get out of your hair and off your skin,” Louis said, holding out a towel to her as she stood dripping on the patio.

“If they were bad for you they wouldn’t put them in the pool,” she said, the “duh” evident in her voice.

“Do you keep toothpaste in your mouth after you’re done brushing? No? Exactly. Go get in the shower.”

So for the next four days, she refused to shower. Every afternoon after lessons she spent hours in the pool, letting her chlorine-soaked hair air dry.

“Your hair looks like a rat's nest,” Louis said over lunch on the fifth day.

She glared at him. It really did though. She’d scraped her curls into an unwieldy bun on the top of her head, and they were clearly very dry. When she turned around you see the knots all up in the back.

“Maybe that’s okay though. I think you’d look kind of cute bald,” Louis said, sipping his drink.

Later that night Claudia stalked up to Louis while he was watching tv in the upstairs living room. She stood beside him, her posture rigid, wet from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe. She was holding a comb tightly in her little hand, her face scrunched up in anger. She glared at him.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

She just continued to glare.

Louis held his hand out for the comb. She smacked it into his palm.

“Ah ah. Try that again,” Louis said, pressing the comb back into her hand.

Her nostrils flared. She huffed. Louis held out his hand again.

Claudia still handed him the comb with rather too much force, but it was progress.

He went and got the conditioner, the spray bottle, and a towel. He had Claudia sit between his legs, spread the towel over her shoulders, and started working through the knots.

“I don’t like this show,” she muttered, “Ow!”

“Hold still,” Louis said, “You're yanking at your own scalp.”

“Can we put on something else,” Clauida whined.

“Seeing as I’m the one doing all the work. No,” Louis said, putting the comb down to work at a knot with his fingers. It took over an hour, and Louis threw the big ball of hair she’d lost at her, which she didn't enjoy.

The refusing to bathe was probably the most dramatic of their battles. But Claudia also waged a thousand tiny ones throughout the day, which was ultimately more exhausting.

“I want sprite. Not water,” she said.

“Interesting. Do you like having teeth?” Louis asked.

And,

“If I turn it down I won’t be able to hear it.”

“Well, then we need to take you to an ear specialist immediately.”

And,

“The cleaning lady can load the dishwasher.”

“Only truly awful people say stuff like that. Do you want to be truly awful?”

And,

“It’s not even that dark.”

“Do you think you have body bumpers? You’re not riding your bike on the street at night. Make circles in the driveway.”

It wasn’t unlike managing a rowdy classroom, except instead of thirty students it was one, with the will of thirty.

Every time she heard Lestat coming and going her anger redoubled. Louis was not only bossing her around, he was keeping her from spending time with her father. They’d only recently found something they wanted to do together. To Claudia, this tour was her first connection to her father in years.

Louis felt like the boundaries were getting fuzzy. He’d known from the start that Lestat was looking to hire someone to do a parent's job. But now he knew Claudia, and what she needed. And he had a glimpse of who Lestat actually was. He loved his daughter but had no idea what she needed or how to provide it. He had no idea how to fix whatever had broken between them.

Louis wanted to fix it. He wanted to ask questions he had no business asking. Suggest things he had no business suggesting.

He’d been avoiding Lestat. It was for the best. He’d gone up to his bed that night, head fuzzy from the whisky, and thought about him until he fell asleep. Indulgent fantasies, the kind he didn’t usually allow himself. What would it be like to have those arms around him? He was strong, that was obvious. Did he crush you against him? Or did he hold you gently? What would those shoulders feel like under Louis’s hands? Those hands on Louis’s body? Such big hands. What did he kiss like? What did his skin feel like against your fingers? What would it be like to have that long silky hair dangling in his face? That body moving above him? How did that body move?

And the next morning, after a fitful sleep, Louis endured wave after wave of embarrassment in the privacy of his own room. Pathetic. Naive. Inexperienced. Broke. So cliche of him, to get a crush on his older, handsome, wealthy boss. He should know better. He did know better.

So Louis avoided Lestat, until he couldn’t.

It had been about two weeks, just enough time for Louis to convince himself he could be normal about this. Roget summoned him to Lestat’s study by text, and Louis went with extreme reluctance.

Lestat wasn’t at his desk. Roget was, working on a laptop. Lestat was on the couch, sitting next to Armand.

The same intimacy he noted between them before was evident once again. Lestat was reclining easily with his feet on the coffee table. One of Armand’s legs was also on the coffee table, the other draped over Lestat’s legs. They were talking too low for Louis to hear, and they were both smiling.

They were so at ease, so pretty, so expensive looking with their shiny hair and beautiful clothes. Louis was out of place, he could feel it in his limbs. And why shouldn’t he? They were stars, and he was a normal person. There wasn’t any comparison. He just worked here.

Lestat noticed him.

“Louis,” he said, smiling. Louis braced himself. He could endure this interaction.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Louis moved further into the room.

“Yes, please sit,” Lestat gestured to the couch across from him. Lestat kicked Armand’s leg off him, and Armand’s leg hit the coffee table hard.

“Ow,” Armand said flatly. Lestat ignored him, standing up and taking a binder Roget handed to him.

“Here is the itinerary, it is subject to change,” Lestat passed Louis the binder.

Louis flipped it open, his eyes scanning the page.

Good Lord.

June 6th to October 4th.

Forty-eight shows. All stadiums.

Two legs.

Starting in Cardiff and ending in Seattle.

The pace seemed insane to Louis. The longest break was five days, and that was when they left Nice to come back to the US for a show in Cleveland.

Louis closed the binder and looked up at Lestat, who was talking to Armand again. Lestat looked over at him.

“Any questions?” Lestat asked.

Oh sure, lots of questions. How the hell did Louis, a public school teacher, get roped into this? What was the plan to keep Claudia from demanding to see the show every night? Was Lestat going to pay for his luggage because Louis didn’t have any to speak off? Was Lestat f*cking Armand Taran?

But mostly, he wanted to know how he was supposed to get through this without going crazy. He would be in close quarters with Lestat for four straight months. Even closer than they were now. At least in a mansion, he could stay out of his way. Where was Louis supposed to hide on a jet? In a green room? What if their hotel rooms were close and Louis had to see him entertaining groupies?

But Louis just said, “I don’t know what to pack.”

Lestat smiled at him, “Roget. Make sure Louis knows what to pack.”

“Of course,” Roget replied.

“Is that all?” Louis asked. He needed to go ponder all the choices he'd made that led him to this point.

“If you’ve no more questions for me, then yes,” Lestat said.

Louis nodded and stood up. He was halfway to the door when he stopped. His problems with the tour actually weren’t important at all. Claudia’s were, even if Louis was the only one to recognize they were problems. Louis turned around.

“She’s going to need some kind of routine,” Louis said. Lestat and Armand looked up from the conversation they’d returned to, “And she’s going to need time with you. Everyday.”

Lestat’s brows knit, “I don’t know if she’d like—”

“She would,” Louis cut him off, “The only reason she wants to go is to spend time with you.”

Lestat’s mouth parted slightly, then closed, “Well…”

“Dinner, every evening. Before you go on stage on show nights. So she feels settled and can go to bed,” Louis was pushing it. Lestat’s schedule wasn’t his to dictate.

Lestat’s brows shot up, “Louis I can hardly get her to have breakfast with me once a week.”

“I’m the expert,” Louis said. Where had that come from? Something about Lestat made him lose control of his mouth.

But Lestat didn’t seem angry. Instead, that slow incomprehensible smile came over his face again. Lestat nodded, “Indeed you are.”

Lestat’s smile made his head spin. Louis’s sudden burst of confidence left him. He nodded back, “Good. It’ll be good. Alright. Well," he turned away awkwardly and hurriedly left the room.

It was late in the afternoon when Armand found him. Or maybe he’d just come across him.

He was sitting out by the pool, cross-legged on one of the lounge chairs, a book in his lap. He was rereading Women in Love. The rest of the day had been fine. Claudia hadn’t been overly combative in their afternoon classes. She seemed to be warming up to English. She’d read the book he’d given her, Esperanza Rising, though not for fun. He had to assign it. Her essay had been great, and she’d actually been interested in the discussion. He needed to turn her loose in a bookstore as soon as possible.

The fading sunlight suddenly disappeared, and Louis looked up. Armand was standing above him.

“Hello Louis,” Armand said. His accent was different than Lestat’s. Unplaceable.

“Hi,” Louis said, confused as Armand sat in the lounge chair adjacent to his, folding his hands in his lap.

“Am I disturbing you?” Armand nodded to his book.

Yes. “No, of course not.”

It was so annoying that Louis wouldn’t ever be able to watch Accidents of Dawn again without wondering if the star had f*cked his boss. He really loved that movie.

“Good. I’m curious about you. I wanted to speak,” Armand said.

Louis’s brow knit, “Curious?”

“Yes. I love them, but Lioncourts are not the easiest people to work for. I’m curious about the person who has succeeded where so many have failed.”

He loved them. He said that so easily.

Louis closed his book and shrugged, “It’s not so difficult.”

Armand laughed, “You can be honest. I won’t tell on you.”

Louis just shrugged again. He didn’t know what to say. Armand was intimidating, and Louis wasn’t sure what the point of this conversation was.

Armand just looked at him, a faint smile on his face. The silence stretched on and on. Finally, Louis spoke, just to say something, “Have you known them long? The Lioncourts.”

Armand’s smile twitched wider. What was this guy's deal?

“I was at the hospital when Claudia was born,” he said, “So our acquaintance is long. I’ve known Lestat since we were….I was twenty. He was eighteen.”

“Wow, long time,” Louis said. Very long time.

“Yes. I had just moved to Paris, and so had he. I knew him before he was Lestat,” Armand said, drawing out the name theatrically.

Louis kept all his questions to himself. He was getting a lot of practice at that.

But Armand continued anyway, “To hear him tell it, he is entirely responsible for my success. He did achieve fame before I did,” he shrugged, “Maybe’s he right.”

“You’re really talented though,” Louis said, meaning it.

Armand smiled, “Thank you. But talent wouldn’t have mattered much if I didn’t have a place to live. Lestat always made sure I did.”

Damn. No wonder they seemed so close. They were close. They’d know each other forever. Before they became the people they were now.

“So are you guys—” Louis cut himself off. Nope. Don’t ask that, “Uh. Really close friends?”

Armand looked amused for some reason, “Oh yes. He is my dearest friend in the world. As necessary to me as air.”

This guy was a lot too.

“But if you ask him I am a barnacle on the hull of the majestic ship of his life,” Armand waved his hand, “You don’t really have to pay attention to anything he says. It’s best if you learn that early.”

What was Louis supposed to say to that?

“But it’s you I’m curious about,” Armand leaned toward him, “Great beauty, and, apparently, great mental fortitude to survive in this house. I suspect you're a very interesting person.”

Armand Taran had just called him beautiful. That was so weird he couldn’t deal with it and pay attention at the same time.

“So tell me everything about yourself. Start at the beginning,” Armand leaned forward like he was prepared to listen.

Was he serious? He seemed serious, “Um. I'm from New Orleans.”

Armand nodded encouragingly.

“I…I went to UC Berkley…”

"Good school."

"Yeah. Worked at a school for a while. A couple of different jobs after that. Now I'm here."

Armand nodded again, “Interesting. Have you ever been in love?”

Louis was so surprised his mouth fell open. But Armand was just looking at him inquisitively. There was no mistaking what he said. Why they hell did he want to know? How could Louis get out of this conversation?

“That’s kind of a personal question,” Louis said slowly.

“It is,” Armand agreed, not seeming to think that was a problem.

Louis just looked at him, genuinely at a loss.

“I think you’d be gorgeous in love. I’d like to see it,” Armand said musingly like he was saying he’d like pasta for dinner.

Louis’s face heated.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Armand leaned forward more, “Flustered. You wear flustered very well.”

“Armand. Leave him alone,” It was Lestat. He was walking out of the French doors onto the patio, “I can tell from here you’re being strange and he’s uncomfortable.”

“We’re just talking,” Armand called back.

“I thought you were going home,” Lestat walked to stand in front of them and slipped his hands into his pockets. Armand smirked up at him.

“I am,” he replied and stood, “Until next time Louis,” Armand smiled at him as he turned away.

As Armand passed Lestat he squeezed his shoulder, and Lestat shot him a private look that Louis couldn’t interpret.

Armand disappeared into the house, and Lestat turned to look down at Louis.

“I don’t even have to ask what he said to you to know I should apologize for it,” he said.

Louis stood, picking up his book, “It was fine, just chatting.”

Lestat laughed, “Armand has never chatted in his life. But I’ll let you be polite.”

“It was fine. Really. He’s interesting,” Louis said, holding his book behind his back.

“He is that,” Lestat said fondly. Were they only friends? Armand said Lestat was as necessary to him as air. Was that something friends said?

“Before you head in,” Lestat said, “I actually came looking for you. If you have a moment. I know you're off the clock.”

“Sure,” Louis said.

“Good,” Lestat walked to the seat Armand vacated and sat. Louis sat back down.

Lestat didn’t speak for a moment, then sighed heavily, “Claudia’s aunt has not let up on her campaign to be allowed to see her. I finally spoke to her, as you suggested.”

Louis was surprised, “Really?”

“Yes. She seems sincere in her attempt to reconcile. She promises not to attempt to involve her loathsome parents in Claudia’s life, she simply wants to come visit.”

Lestat stopped speaking and looked at Louis.

“Did you say yes?” Louis prompted, confused by the silence.

“Should I?’ Lestat asked, leaning forward.

Oh.

“Oh.”

Lestat was asking for his advice.

“Well, you said she seems sincere,” Louis said.

“She does,” Lestat nodded, “But what if she reminds Claudia of her mother and it upsets her? Or she reminds her of that awful period when she lived with her grandparents? What if I am misreading her sincerity, and she contributes to Claudia’s dislike of me?”

Lestat’s voice was filled with such genuine distress that Louis’s heart ached. Louis wanted to soothe him, tell him of course Claudia liked him. Loved him. Strangled love. What would Lestat love like if he knew how?

Louis took a breath to steady himself, “I think the solution is for the three of you to spend time together. So you can get to know Lily again at the same time as Claudia, and you don’t have to worry about any negative influences.”

Lestat nodded slowly, “Right. Clearly, that’s the solution. Of course, thank you.”

Louis smiled and nodded.

Lestat looked away for a long moment, seemingly lost in thought. The sun was setting behind him. He was gold all over, his perfect profile sharp against the pink sky. Louis couldn’t help but drink in the sight.

Lestat turned back to him, and Louis looked down hurriedly. He hoped Lestat hadn’t noticed him staring.

“Will you accompany us? When Lily visits?”

“Oh—”

“I know that is outside your purview. I just would like your impression. And a neutral third party,” Lestat’s eyes were searching his face, his expression earnest.

There was no way Louis could say no.

“Sure,” he said, the ache in his heart deepening. It was foolish, to get drawn even deeper into this family. But he couldn’t say no. And when a Lestat’s face broke into a relieved, grateful smile, shining just for him, Louis’s heart also leaped.

“Wonderful,” Lestat said, leaping to his feet, “Absolutely wonderful.”

As Lestat strode off into the house, Louis’s dropped his head into his hands.

Terrible. Absolutely terrible.

Chapter 11: until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand why you need to bring both your Macbook and your iPad,” Louis said, sitting on the floor of Claudia’s room, folding her clothes and putting them in her suitcase. They left for the tour in three days, and Claudia had a ton to pack.

“Of course, you don’t,” Claudia said, handing him another t-shirt.

“But your iPad has the keyboard case thing. They’re basically the same,” Louis said.

“They are not the same,” Claudia replied.

“Are you two ready?”

Louis turned. Lestat was standing in the open doorway, dressed in an immaculate grey pinstripe suit. Overdressed, surely, for where they were going.

“Why are you wearing your Grammys outfit?” Claudia asked, brow scrunched in confusion.

“This is not my Grammys outfit. This is my grey suit,” Lestat said.

“But you wore it to the Grammys,” Claudia insisted.

“I can re-wear suits. And looking nice is not a crime. Get dressed,” Lestat said with a huff.

“We’re dressed,” Louis said. Claudia had on a T-shirt and shorts and he had on his usual button-up and pants.

“These are clothes you plan on leaving the house in?” Lestat gestured between them.

“We’re just going to lunch aren’t we?” Louis stood up and looked down at his outfit. He didn’t really have anything nicer than this.

Lestat sighed, “It’s fine. Let’s just leave.”

Lestat was silent the entire ride to the restaurant. Dark glasses over his face, even in the heavily tinted SUV. His jaw was tense.

They were going to lunch with Claudia’s aunt, Lily Carter. Lestat was nervous, that was apparent. His arms were crossed, his hands tense. Louis wanted to rest his hand on Lestat’s, rub them soothingly. Tell him everything would be fine. He wanted Lestat to smile back, comforted. Louis turned back to Claudia.

“You excited to see your aunt?” he asked.

She shrugged, “I don’t remember her,” she said, pulling out her phone and scrolling.

"You can still be excited," Louis said.

"I don't remember if she's cool or not. She could suck," Claudia said.

Louis sighed and dropped it. Claudia was completely absorbed in her phone.

“See I don’t understand why you need a laptop, an iPad, and a phone,” Louis said.

“Have you ever had all three?” She asked.

“No,” Louis said.

“Then won’t understand. They all do different things,” she said.

“They’re all computers though,” he said.

Claudia shook her head slowly, “You're making me sad.”

They pulled up to the restaurant, an upscale Italian bistro, vine-covered, gentle music playing from the outdoor patio. Louis wasn’t noticeably underdressed, and Lestat was certainly overdressed. Still, Louis would probably always feel rumpled and out of place in this world. His mama had always insisted that the Du Lacs had class, that they were refined. She had no idea. Their couple million had nothing on the Lestat de Lioncourts of the world. Louis in his Sunday best could never come close to Lestat, who, from head to toe, was a marvel of money and genetics.

Louis watched Lestat push up his sunglasses as they entered the restaurant, sliding them up into his gleaming hair, his eyes scanning the room. Then Louis realized he wasn’t the only one staring. As the host walked them to their table, every person they passed looked at Lestat, their eyes wide, some adoring, some merely curious, all of them utterly captivated. And after they moved past the tables there was a flurry of whispers. Do you know who that was?

Louis never let himself forget for a second who Lestat was, but it was different to actually witness his fame. He’d shifted the focus of the entire restaurant onto himself simply by being there. And he didn’t seem to notice or care. He strode through the restaurant in that easy yet commanding way of his.

They sat at the round table in a private corner, away from most of the curious patrons. Claudia immediately pulled out her phone.

“Not at the table,” Louis said. He said it every day.

She rolled her eyes.

“They gon get stuck in the back of your head you keep doin' that,” Louis said.

“Hi! Sorry, am I late?”

Louis turned around. A young, pretty black woman was walking up to their table. She had long, thick curly hair, and wore a bright patterned dress. He and Lestat stood.

“Not at all,” Lestat said, pulling out her chair for her, “We’ve only just arrived.”

Lestat wasn’t smiling. He usually smiled when he greeted people. But he just sat down, and folded his hands on his lap, leaning back in his chair.

“Hi Claudia, I’m Lily. I’m your mother’s sister. You probably don’t remember me,” Lily sat down and leaned forward toward Claudia, her voice breathy with excitement.

“I don’t,” Claudia said, “But you sort of look like her. From the pictures.”

Lily smiled, "You look so much like her. You’ve got her eyes. Such a pretty green.”

“Thanks,” Claudia said, glancing down at her lap.

“Put ya phone up,” Louis said automatically. Claudia grumbled.

“Oh, hi sorry,” Lily turned to him, just seeming to realize he was there, “How rude. I’m Lily,” she held out a hand to shake.

“Louis,” he said, shaking her hand back, “I’m Claudia’s teacher and caretaker.”

“He means nanny,” Claudia said, still looking down. Louis reached over and took her phone.

“Hey!” she snatched after it, but he slipped it into his pocket.

“You can get it back after lunch,” Louis said, turning back to Lily.

“Sorry,” he said, “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Lily’s eyebrows were raised slightly, but she still smiled, “Nice to meet you too.”

Louis understood her confusion. Why was he, an employee, at this family lunch? Well, she would have to ask Lestat.

Lestat was still not speaking. Louis knew him well enough by now to know that was strange. He was just observing, leaning back in his chair.

Lily only had eyes for Claudia though. It was bittersweet, how excited she was. This was the child of the sister she lost, who she hadn’t been allowed to see.

“What grade are you in now?” she asked Claudia.

“Seventh. But I do some high school stuff,” Claudia said, and Louis smiled at the note of pride in her voice.

“Wow, that’s amazing. What subjects?” Lily asked.

Claudia wrinkled her nose, and turned to Louis, “Which is the advanced stuff?”

“English. And social studies,” he said.

“Your mom loved social studies growing up,” Lily said, “She was a political science major in college.”

“Cool,” Claudia said, looking down at her hands fiddling on the table. She was trying not to seem too curious, so Louis asked instead.

“I’d like to hear all about Maya,” Louis said to Lily, “I hear she was really special.”

He’d heard no such thing, but it was the right thing to say. Lily lit up talking about her sister. Maya had been brilliant. She’d gone to UCLA. She’d volunteered on congressional campaigns. Her favorite colors were green and pink. She always had her nails done. She’d loved the beach.

Louis was so happy when slowly Claudia let herself be interested and ask questions. She’d got up and stood next to Lily so they could look through pictures of Maya on her phone. Lily put an arm around Claudia’s waist, and Claudia let her.

And still, Lestat said nothing. Louis looked at him, his face questioning. But Lestat just smiled mildly.

“I have a dress kind of like that,” Claudia said, pointing to a picture of Maya at prom, “With a big skirt. It’s for the tour.”

“Tour?” Lily said, glancing over at Lestat.

“Yeah,” Claudia went back to her seat, “Lestat had it made for me. I have outfits that match all his finale outfits. I’d show you a picture but Louis took my phone.”

Louis pursed his lips and handed her her phone back. She started looking for the picture.

“Are you going to some of the shows?” Lily asked.

“I’m going along,” Claudia said, passing her phone to Lily, “See.”

Lily looked at the dress, “Very nice. You’ll look beautiful.”

“She will,” Louis held out his hand to Lily, who laughed and passed the phone to him. He could feel Claudia’s glare.

“How long is this tour?” Lily looked between Louis and Lestat. Lestat just tilted his head and looked at her.

Louis answered, “A little over four months.”

Lily’s mouth parted, “What about school?”

“Louis’s coming,” Claudia said.

The food arrived, and the conversation was momentarily halted as they received their plates and began to eat.

“So Claudia, what's your favorite subject?” Lily asked.

She shrugged, “English I guess.”

“Oh really? Why?”

For the rest of lunch, Lily asked Claudia questions. They would’ve seemed utterly harmless if Louis didn’t have any context. Who was her best friend? Was she on any sports teams? Where was her favorite place to get dessert? Did she ever go roller skating? Did she ever go to the movies? But Claudia’s every answer painted a portrait of a lonely child in an ivory tower.

Lestat grew more and more tense, his posture rigid. His expression was positively glacial. And still, he said nothing.

Finally, lunch was over.

“Can I follow you guys back?” Lily asked, “I’d love to come see where my niece lives if that’s alright?”

They were standing outside the restaurant, the car pulling up to collect them. The three of them looked up at Lestat.

“Of course,” he said, with a faint, cold smile.

Louis gave Claudia her phone back in the car, so naturally, she was occupied the whole ride back. Louis just sat there trying to keep himself from staring at Lestat.

He was furious. He hadn’t trusted Lily, and to him, it must seem like he’d been right not to. But Lily was clearly worried about Claudia, which frankly, was fair. Louis was worried about Claudia.

When they got back to the house Claudia gave Lily her version of a tour, which was essentially just her room, the pool, the movie theater, and the kitchen. Louis tagged along. Lestat disappeared.

When it was time for Lily to depart she hugged Claudia tightly to her, closing her eyes. It seemed like she might cry. She stood and turned to Louis.

“Do you know where Lestat went? I want to say goodbye to him,” she said.

“He's probably in his study. I’ll walk you,” he said.

They started upstairs.

“It was great to meet you today. You seem to be doing an amazing job with Claudia,” Lily said.

“Thank you. She’s really special,” he smiled over at her.

“Yeah. She’s so different than Maya. Maya was gentle. Quiet. But she does stuff Maya did. Like the way she scrunches up her face,” Lily stopped talking. She seemed momentarily overcome. She shook her head, “It was just really good to see her.”

“I’m sure,” Louis said softly, “Here we are.”

Lestat was in there, sitting at his desk, laptop open. He glanced up.

“Hi. Just wanted to say goodbye and thank you. See if you had a minute to talk,” Lily said.

Lestat looked at her for a moment, then nodded and stood, walking around his desk towards her.

“It was nice to meet you,” Louis said, leaving them to their discussion.

Except he didn’t. He walked to the right instead of to the left and down the stairs, went around the corner, and pressed himself against the wall.

This wasn’t any of his business. But Lestat had been so quiet.

“Thank you again for today,” Lily said, “I can’t tell you how much seeing her means to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Lestat said, almost too faint for Louis to hear.

Lily took a deep breath, “I wanted to ask if, maybe during some of this tour, she might come visit me?”

Silence.

“I just thought it might be nice since she’ll be traveling anyway.”

Silence.

“I could show her some scrapbooks. Home movies. Give her a homecooked meal.”

Silence.

And then, “I don’t think so Lily. But thank you for the offer.”

Louis could hear the frustration in Lily's voice when she asked, “Why not?”

“I want her with me. But again I appreciate the offer,” Lestat’s voice was extremely cordial.

“With you? With the nanny you mean?” Lily snapped.

“Louis and Claudia do spend a lot of time together yes. Teachers generally do with their students,” Lestat said like he was patiently explaining something to a child.

“He’s more of a parent to her than you are!” she said.

“And you know this from spending one hour in our company?”

“I know you! You’re passing Claudia off to one of your underlings because you can’t be bothered to deal with her! Just like you did Maya!”

Silence.

“Clearly this was a mistake. I thought you meant it when you said you were ready to bury your resentments,” Lestat’s voice was silky smooth.

“No, it wasn’t! I just—”

“You should go,” Lestat said.

“I don’t think—”

“It was a pleasure as always Lily,” Lestat said, and before Louis could even think to move, Lestat had strode out of his study, and was turning the corner.

He saw Louis and halted, his face going blank. Louis was rooted to the spot, his face burning.

“It’s cruel to keep me from her. She’s the only thing I have left of my sister,” Lily called. Lestat didn’t turn to look at her. He just stared at Louis.

Louis felt sick. His fingers were going numb with anxiety. He heard Lily leave, walking angrily down the stairs.

Lestat moved towards him slowly, his gaze burning into Louis. Louis felt helpless. He couldn’t look away. Was he angry? His expression wasn't angry exactly, just focused. Very focused.

Lestat came to stop directly in front of Louis, mere inches away, looking down at him, eyes narrowed.

“Well. Louis. Do you think I’m a bad man now?”

Louis’s lips parted. He closed them. Shook his head.

“Really Louis? Even after hearing all that?” Lestat asked, his voice dark and low. Louis felt pinpricks all over his skin.

Louis shook his head again. He had no business having an opinion. He shouldn't have heard any of that in the first place.

“She’s right you know. I did exactly as she said. Maya Carter was young, and pretty, and I wanted her. So I had her. I’ve had a lot of people.”

Louis could hardly breathe. Their proximity was making him tremble.

“She was so in love with me. Completely and totally in love. Love has expectations. Her love had plenty. And what did I need with expectations? I was young, wealthy, and famous. And gorgeous. I had no use for her love.”

Lestat moved closer. His eyes took all of Louis in, his gaze searing across Louis’s flesh. Louis swallowed hard.

“So I broke it off. And she was devastated. And she was even more devastated when she came to me and told me she was pregnant. “Abort it,” I said. She didn’t.”

Louis brought his gaze back up to Louis’s. Louis wanted more than anything to look away, but he was utterly trapped. Why was Lestat telling him this?

“She begged me. “Let’s be a family," she said. I said no. So she begged more. And I said no. For nine months she begged, and for nine months I said no.”

That poor girl.

“She was only twenty-one. And I, the man who got her pregnant, let the lawyers handle her. I figured the abundant child support might soothe her broken heart.”

It was awful, how calmly he said all this.

“But money can’t mend all things, a broken heart least of all. You know, I think she loved me until the day she died.”

Louis might cry. Why? He wasn’t sure. Pity for Maya? Fear for himself? From the sheer overwhelm of having Lestat so near. He fought the tears.

“So. Louis. Do you think I’m a bad man?”

Louis acted on impulse. Lestat made him act on impulse. Louis nodded.

And Lestat smiled. Louis had agreed he was a bad man, and that made him smile. Slowly. Seductively. Louis was weak.

“Smart boy,” Lestat said.

Then he took a step back from Louis, turned, and walked down the hall.

Chapter 12: and hungry, too, no doubt

Chapter Text

The flight to Cardiff left at five am.

Louis had been thankful that there was so much to do to get himself and Claudia ready. It was a much needed distraction. The past three days had been full of shopping, packing, and prepping lesson plans.

Louis had only seen Lestat in passing. Louis couldn’t talk to him. He was embarrassed and confused, and more, that he couldn’t even identify.

Louis had googled Maya Carter. There wasn’t much about her online like he’d found before. All the articles said the same things. Young woman from Los Angeles. Mother to Claudia de Lioncourt. Dead. It had been a car accident. Louis found her obituary. She’d left behind loving parents, a sister, a beloved daughter, and lots of cousins. Lestat wasn’t mentioned.

Everything Lily said painted a picture of a bright, happy young woman, passionate about her work and fiercely committed to her daughter. And Lestat had treated her terribly, by his own accounting. And Claudia. She’d lost so much. Her mother, her extended family, a normal childhood.

Lestat wasn’t a good person or a good parent. He’d said so himself. Louis liked to think those qualities were important to him in a person. And yet he wished Lestat was near him with as much vehemence as he wished he’d stay away. What was wrong with him? No good could come from wanting a man like that.

Roget had given him a very comprehensive list of what he ought to pack, and Louis had gone over it very carefully. He’d thought he’d had everything. But checking his luggage for the hundredth time that night, he realized he didn’t have any plug adapters. European outlets were different.

It was a small thing. He could probably get them over there. Someone else definitely had one he could use. But he couldn’t let it go. He wanted to be prepared. Who knew what was going to happen on this trip? He should at least be able to change his phone.

Home Depot sold them. They closed at ten, so he had an hour.

Louis headed out to the garage. When they got back from the tour he’d use his car more. Go out. This was a good job, the best job he’d ever had, and he cared about Claudia. He didn’t want to give it up. But he needed to get back to the real world. Make a friend. Talk to some regular people. Go on dates with guys in his own tax bracket. He just had to make it through this tour.

The light was on in the second garage. Louis assumed it was one of the drivers or a security guard. He opened the door and went to the key rack.

“Skipping out on us right before the fun starts?”

Louis jumped and whipped around.

Louis hadn’t noticed the hood of one of the cars at the far end of the garage was open, and he certainly hadn’t noticed that Lestat was behind it. Now Lestat emerged and walked towards him.

“I…I’m just going to the store,” Louis said.

“Likely story,” Lestat said, picking up a rag off a workbench and wiping his hands. They were grease covered. He was wearing a white tank top, heavy work pants, and work boots. Louis was staring at his hands.

“What? Did you think I didn’t know how to get them dirty?’ Lestat said, flexing his fingers.

“No…I. You work on them? The cars?” Louis gestured to the classic cars sitting neatly in a row down the length of the garage.

Lestat nodded, “When I have time, which is usually at night.”

“That’s…cool,” Louis said, trying to keep his eyes off Lestat’s shoulders. He just wanted to go to the store.

Lestat smiled, “Thank you. It is one of the few skills from my former life that I have not let atrophy. I’m perfectly useless with most practical things nowadays.”

Louis was hopelessly curious, “You used to work on cars?”

“It’s more accurate to say I used to bandage cars. I’d keep them going until even my relentless determination couldn’t them make start, and then I’d find us a new rust bucket. Rinse. Repeat.”

‘You did that as a kid?” Louis asked.

“Not really a kid, I was fourteen when I took the matter into my own hands. Found I had a taste for it,” Lestat turned around and started walking back towards the car, “My mechanic friend tells me I shouldn’t touch this one. That my layman’s hands are unfit. But I paid for it.”

Louis followed after him. The car was really gorgeous. Jet black. Huge, dramatic curves. The logo on the nose read Bugatti. Of course, it was a Bugatti.

“She was made in 1938 and still runs like a dream. It’s like driving on air. You should experience it sometime Louis. I’ll take you for a ride,” Lestat said, his voice utterly casual as he leaned back over the exposed engine.

Louis was going to lose his mind.

He needed to go to the store. That’s why he came down here. Not to ogle his boss’s back while he tinkered with a car worth more than Louis would ever make in his life. He gripped his keys and walked past Lestat, heading for his own car.

“Don’t disappear into the night. Claudia will miss you,” Lestat called after him, his voice playful.

Louis’s steps faltered, but he kept walking.

He moved through the Home Depot in a daze, the buzzing fluorescents hurting his eyes. He got the adapters and checked out, chatting with the friendly cashier. Louis had barely been to a store in months. He’d barely chatted with anyone in months. How insane was that? Almost everything he’d needed was just around, in the house. The people that came to the house had no interest in him. Since he didn’t have a life outside of his job, he didn’t leave the house much at all. He’d never been good at having a life outside of his job.

Louis sat in his car in the parking lot, staring at nothing. He’d completely lost touch with reality. The Lioncourt family had completely eclipsed his life. Could he really live like this? It wasn’t normal. What if he quit? It was just a job. It was just a job. He had to remember that. There were other jobs. Jobs with regular hours, and bosses that were good people, who didn't have voices or smiles or shoulders like that.

Don’t disappear into the night. Claudia will miss you.

Claudia. Could he really leave her? He’d grown overwhelmingly fond of her. She’d begun to trust him too, though she would never admit it. It might feel worse to leave her than it would to stay. But she wasn’t his child, and her father scared him. Lestat scared him.

Louis was so distracted he got lost driving home and had to pull up directions. It was nearly eleven by the time he got back.

He didn’t expect Lestat to still be in the garage, but the light was still on, and when Louis climbed out Lestat was leaning against a workbench, watching him get out of the car.

“I was beginning to think you’d really run for the hills,” Lestat said, smiling.

Louis’s own smile was watery. He looked down at his hands fiddling with his keys.

“No. I just got a little turned around,” Louis said. Had Lestat been waiting for him? No, definitely not. It just seemed like it.

“Ah,” Lestat said, “Well I’m pleased you’ve returned to us. Despite it all.”

Louis looked up at Lestat. Lestat’s smile had changed, it was now rueful. Whether or not Louis left, he should at least clear the air. He’d been agonizing over his snooping the last three days.

“Mr. Lioncourt, about the other—”

“Lestat. Call me Lestat,” he cut Louis off, “I think we’re are on a first name basis now Louis.”

Louis looked away and pressed his lips together. He nodded.

“Right. About the other day, with Claudia’s aunt. I have to apologize for not respecting your privacy. It was completely unprofessional.”

Lestat’s smile widened, “Unprofessional…”

“Yes,” Louis nodded, “I’m your employee, and it’s important that I respect your boundaries. So I’m sorry.”

“Boundaries…” Lestat pressed off the workbench and walked closer to Louis, “I don’t really have very many of those.”

Louis blinked, “Well regardless—”

“I don’t mind you knowing things about me.”

“That’s not really my point—”

“You’re uncomfortable,” Lestat said.

Louis released a breath, “Honestly, yes sir. I am.”

“Well we can’t have that,” Lestat said, and his voice was so gentle it felt like a caress, “What do you need to feel more comfortable?”

Louis wanted to close his eyes, but he just looked down. There wasn’t anything that could make him comfortable actually. Stay or go, he’d be miserable about it. Maybe he’d be better off if he’d never taken this job. Or maybe he’d be at home, miserable in a lesser mansion, under his mama’s thumb. Maybe he was just doomed to want things he couldn’t have, no matter where he went or who he met.

“How about I don’t tell you anything more about myself,” Lestat said, moving slightly closer, “We keep our relationship strictly business, completely impersonal.”

Louis swallowed and did close his eyes, briefly. That wasn’t what he wanted, not at all. But that’s what was best. He should nod his head, say yes. But he didn’t move.

“I won’t tell you, for instance, that I wanted you the moment I saw you.”

Louis stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body tensed.

“I won’t tell you that I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and because I wanted you so very badly I knew I ought to send you away. But you had all those lovely qualifications.”

Lestat moved closer. Oh god.

“I won’t tell you that I avoided you most assiduously, mimicking what I thought a good man would do. Or that when I saw you half-naked and dripping wet in my hallway I wanted to take you right then and there.”

Louis's whole body was on fire, and when Lestat began to gently run his hands up Louis’s forearms he couldn’t believe how incredible a simple touch felt. His eyelids fluttered. His breath came in quick bursts.

“I won’t mention how I dreamed of you. How I savored every word from your perfect lips. Even your reprimands. Especially your reprimands.”

Lestat’s hands slid from Louis’s arms to his waist, resting there lightly.

“And I will make sure to never, ever tell you that you have captivated me utterly. And that I am completely at your mercy.”

Louis took a shaky, painful breath, “Mr. Lioncourt—”

“Lestat,” he said, gently pulling Louis closer to him so that their bodies were lightly pressed together. Louis shivered.

“Lestat…” Louis breathed, and could say no more.

Lestat’s smile was wolfish, triumphant. When he brought his mouth down on Louis’s he kissed him hungrily, devouringly, all pretense dropping away as his big hand splayed across the small of Louis’s back and locked them together tightly. Louis’s mind was blank. It was all sensation. Liquid, hot sensation. Lestat’s lips on his, Lestat’s tongue in his mouth. The pair of them stumbling back, leaning against Louis’s car, Lestat’s delicious weight on him, Lestat’s hand on his thigh, pulling his leg up against his hip, grinding against him.

Lestat lifted his mouth away, " Tu n'as pas beaucoup d'expérience, hein? Tu n’as pas embrassé beaucoup de gens."

“ Oui, pas beaucoup," Louis replied without thinking.

Lestat made a noise deep in his throat, "J’aimerais être le seul."

He came after Louis again, cradling his head in his hands, leaning him farther back, moving a hand down his hip, pressing their hips against each other, reaching for the buckle of Louis’s belt—

“Stop. Stop,” Louis jerked back, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, awfully, his head cleared.

Lestat stopped immediately, pulling back, “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas ma beauté?”

“ Je ne peux —I can’t do this,” Louis said, reality sinking in, “I can’t. You're my boss.”

“I’m whatever you want me to be Louis,” Lestat said, his voice low and husky with desire.

Louis couldn’t speak or move, he was so overcome with indecision. All the things Lestat said had him completely turned around. Lestat wanted him. That was evident in the fervor of his kiss, the dazed look in his eyes. Louis wanted, god he wanted. But he was so afraid.

“What do you need Louis?” Lestat asked gently, looking steadily into his eyes.

Louis closed his eyes and tried to steady his breath, “I don’t know.”

Lestat stepped back, and Louis immediately missed his warmth.

“When you know, tell me, and you shall have it,” Lestat said, with all the gravity of a vow. Then he reached down and grasped Louis's hand in his own. He brought it to his lips, pressing an ardent kiss to Louis’s knuckles, which was somehow more achingly intimate than all the kisses that proceeded it.

“ Bonne nuit ,” Lestat said softly, dropping Louis’s hand, and striding quickly out of the garage.

Chapter 13: you think to much of the love of human beings

Chapter Text

“Claudia,” Louis said softly, shaking her shoulder, “Wake up honey. You just need to walk to the plane and then you can go back to sleep.”

She moaned and swatted at his hand.

“You want me to carry you?” Louis asked.

She opened her eyes a crack, “I’m not a baby.”

“Okay then, we gotta walk.”

Claudia leaned heavily against Louis as they walked towards the plane, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. He’d sent her to bed early, but who knew when she actually fell asleep? Though Louis wasn’t any better. He’d barely slept two hours himself.

They boarded, and he figured it’d be fine to get her settled in the bedroom at the back of the plane, taking off her shoes and socks when she slumped over and immediately fell back asleep. He shut the door quietly behind him.

Now to find his own place to hide, and maybe fall asleep himself. He’d lay in bed last night replaying every word, every kiss, every touch of Lestat’s. Half of him was convinced he should pack up and leave. The other half wanted to find Lestat and immediately finished what they’d started. So he’d ended up doing nothing, sleeping least of all.

The plane was huge, all creamy white leather and dark wood. Not much privacy to be had. The main cabin was all open. There was a seating area near the crew quarters with six chairs. In the middle of the cabin was a traditional living room set up, two long low couches facing one another, a coffee table in between. Behind that was another row of three chairs against the wall of the bedroom, a coffee table in front of them as well. Louis sat in one of those, near the window, hoping he was far back enough that everyone would overlook him.

His strategy worked for about two minutes. Alex, Larry, and Cookie boarded, walking like zombies, Alex shoving Larry down the aisle. The three of them collapsed on the couches. Louis closed his eyes. Maybe Louis could pretend to sleep the entire fifteen-hour flight to Cardiff.

But then a warm voice said, “Louis.”

Louis reluctantly opened his eyes and looked up.

It was Armand standing at the end of the row of seats, “How nice to see you again.”

Armand was coming?

“Can you please be serious?” Someone yelled, footsteps pounding up the stairs. Louis and Armand both turned their heads. The person emerged into the cabin, striding towards Armand. It was a tall white guy, with lots of curly black hair and glasses. He looked about Armand’s age, and irritated. His eyes were very blue.

“I’m just hitching a ride, Daniel,” Armand said over his shoulder, then turned back to Louis, “Have you ever been to Cardiff Louis?”

“Armand, come on. This isn’t funny,” the guy, Daniel apparently, reached for Armand’s wrist, turning him around, slipping his hands around his waist, “Quit trying to punish me.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no press allowed Molloy. This is a private plane," Lestat had arrived.

He was wearing a white button-up, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, sunglasses perched on his head though the sun hadn’t yet risen. He stopped and threw his jacket over one of the chairs near the front. Louis, who had immediately tensed at the sound of his voice, was relieved. He still hadn’t formed a single coherent thought since last night.

Daniel glared at Lestat, but turned back to Armand, “Baby, come home with me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Daniel. Just meet me in Paris,” Armand said, sliding out of Daniel’s grasp.

“We can go to Paris together, you don’t have to fly there with him,” Daniel said.

“Security,” Lestat called, “Some sort of tabloid writer or gossip columnist has snuck onto my jet. Please remove them.”

“f*ck off,” Daniel spat at Lestat.

“Again, Molloy, this is my plane.”

Armand leaned forward and kissed Daniel on the cheek, “Meet me in Paris.”

Daniel stood there for a long moment, obviously conflicted. Then he nodded stiffly, turned around, and left the plane.

Lestat watched him walk off, then turned to Armand, eyebrows raised. Armand made a dismissive gesture.

Louis really wanted to know what that was all about. But he wanted to avoid Lestat’s attention more. Lestat went to talk to the band, not even glancing his way, so it seemed Louis had temporarily succeeded.

“So Louis, have you ever been to Cardiff?” Armand sat down directly next to him. He looked far too awake, his pretty eyes bright, his curls glossy and bouncy. Louis had worn a hoodie to hide his own hair situation, which could not be salvaged in the short time he’d had to get ready. He yanked the ties on the hoodie a little tighter.

“No, I haven’t. Haven’t traveled much at all,” Louis said, his voice coming out gravelly and sleepy.

“You must let me show you around some of my favorite places. Not just in Cardiff, during the whole European leg,” Armand said, “I’d love to see you see them.”

Armand Taran was offering to show him around Europe. Was he hallucinating from lack of sleep?

And yet, “Are you coming along the whole tour?”

Louis still didn’t know that Lestat wasn’t sleeping with Armand. It had occurred to him many times during his sleepless night that Lestat had said all he’d said just to get him into bed. Louis could just be another conquest. He probably was. Thank god he said no last night. Really.

“No,” Armand said, tucking a curl behind his ear, “Just the opening show. Technically, I am part of this whole production.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asked.

“We collaborated on creative direction. And I’m a partner in Lestat’s production company. A fact which he wields like a cudgel to get me to do things,” Armand replied.

"That's cool," Louis said.

"The cudgel? I suppose."

"No," Louis shook his head, "I meant that you work together. It's cool."

"Oh, yes. Well, Lestat insists on sharing his wealth. To an extent anyway. He is a descendant of aristocrats," Armand said.

He was? And all the times that Armand had been at the house were on business? Maybe. That still didn’t explain that physical thing between them. And why had that guy, Armand’s boyfriend Louis had to assume, been so mad Armand was flying with Lestat?

Roget boarded, along with an older woman that Louis had seen around the house at times, Lestat’s music manager Jay. They were trailed by a pair of young people, a woman, and a man, that Louis recognized as assistants. Roget conferred with one of the crew members, and the door of the plane eased shut.

“All right,” Roget clapped his hands, “This is exciting. We’re off!”

The pilot came on over the intercom and gave the pre-flight speech. The plane rumbled to life around them. They started to taxi down the runway. Lift off. This was actually happening.

The flight crew came around and asked about food and drinks. Armand asked for an espresso. Louis declined anything, resting his head on the headrest.

“You look tired,” Armand said.

Louis smiled with half his mouth, “I am.”

“I won’t disturb you anymore, for now,” Armand said with a smile, standing and walking towards the front with the business people.

Louis looked out the window. The sun would be rising soon.

“Louis.”

Lestat was suddenly standing above him. Jesus.

Louis thought it had been bad before. But now he knew what his mouth felt like. Tasted like. What his hands felt like gripping his body. Better than any fantasy, and all Louis could see when he looked at him.

But Lestat’s own face was neutral.

“Is she sleeping? Or avoiding company?” Lestat asked.

Louis blinked and tried to clear his head, “Sleeping.”

Lestat nodded and turned away, walking towards the front of the plane. Louis watched him sit down next to Armand, lean over, and say something. Louis watched their faces close together, his eyes tracing and retracing Lestat’s profile. So what if Louis was just a conquest? Louis wanted to be conquered.

Alex laughed suddenly, loud and long. Lestat shot up and was standing over Alex in seconds.

“Claudia is sleeping,” he hissed, “So contain your wailing.”

Alex grumbled and shot a dirty look at Lestat’s back as he went to sit down.

Louis’s heart was in his throat. Louis was an idiot.

Against all odds, Louis did fall asleep. Surprisingly deep sleep, considering. When he blinked his eyes open, Claudia was sitting next to him, watching a movie on her iPad.

He rubbed his eyes and reached into his hoodie pocket to check his phone. It was noon.

Louis nudged Claudia to get her attention. She slipped her headphones off.

“What?”

“Have you eaten since you woke up?” He asked her.

“No.”

Louis stood up, swaying on his feet slightly. He walked towards the front, trying not to look at Lestat, who was deep in conversation with Jay and Roget. Louis stuck his head in the crew area, “Excuse me. If it's possible, could we get some lunch please?”

He asked for whatever was the healthiest thing they had on board and went to sit down next to Claudia.

“Your hair looks crazy,” she said, glancing up from her iPad.

sh*t, his hoodie had slid off while he was sleeping. He yanked it back up.

“Well yours don't look all that fresh either,” he said, “After lunch Imma fix it.”

She seemed appalled at the salad of leafy greens the crew member presented her.

“I’ve seen you eat duck pate. Stop acting like a baby,” Louis said.

After lunch, Claudia sat on the floor in front of him so he could braid her hair. She gave him one of her earbuds so he could listen to her movie while he worked. He didn’t have any of her hair stuff with him, it was in the stowed luggage, so the two thick cornrows he did were a bit rough. He’d have to remember to put all that in his backpack from now on.

Claudia was like Grace had been when Louis did her hair. She moved around too much, then complained when her scalp got tugged. Claudia’s hair was more slippery, it was harder to make the braids neat than Grace’s had been.

“That’s as good as it’s gonna get,” Louis said, patting Claudia’s head when he was done.

She didn’t move though. She just leaned back against his legs, still watching the movie.

“This isn’t as good as the first one,” she mumbled, crossing her legs.

She’d done it like it was the most natural thing in the world, to lean on him. Louis was afraid to move, like he might spook her if he did. He sat back slowly, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. Louis watched Claudia watch the movie, sitting at his feet. Her perfect little head, the messy braids he’d given her. She laughed at a line. She tilted her head back and rested it against his knee.

Life shifted for Louis in that moment. He could feel something slide and lock into place inside him. He was overcome with a sense of finality.

Louis loved Claudia. Loved her like blood. No that wasn’t it. Because what did blood mean at the end of it all? He loved her like family. Like his own. The realization staggered him. There were feelings within him he was just discovering, though they’d been taking root all this time. Protectiveness. Kinship. Adoration. Pride. And so much love.

After a long few minutes she turned around, “Do they have popcorn?”

Louis blinked down at her. He was coming out of the other side of something, and he was changed forever.

“Are you hungry still?” he asked her, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

She nodded, “And I want popcorn to go with the movie.”

“I’ll check.”

She leaned forward as he stepped around her. He asked one of the crew members and came back to Claudia.

“They don’t,” Louis said, “But they said they’ll stock it from now on. Here,” he passed her a bowl of chips instead. She took it without comment, munching on them.

He sat back down behind her, and she settled back against his legs. There was a fist around Louis’s heart.

Louis felt eyes on him. He looked up.

Lestat was standing, his arm braced on the back of his chair, looking at them.

Louis couldn’t help but look back. Lestat’s eyes moved from Louis down to Claudia, then back up to Louis. Louis didn’t know how long they looked at each other, nor could he name the emotion in Lestat’s eyes.

Chapter 14: here, then, is a corsair-song

Chapter Text

There were vans waiting for them when they landed at the private airfield. It was still light, the low summer sun turning the world soft yellow. Louis and Claudia climbed into the backseat. They were both surprised when Lestat joined them, taking the third seat next to Claudia.

“So here is the arrangement,” Lestat said, pushing his sunglasses into his hair and looking down at Claudia, “We will eat dinner together in your suite every night. You can attend the opening show tomorrow, and the final one. As for the rest, it depends on how well you’re doing at school, and if you’re sleeping well enough. No more than once a week certainly. I’ll talk with Louis before I decide. Alright?”

Claudia stared up at Lestat, then nodded slowly.

“Excellent,” Lestat nodded, spreading his arm across the back of the car seat. His fingers brushed Louis’s shoulder. Jay turned around in the seat in front of them and started to talk to Lestat about the show. Claudia put her earbuds in and started to watch something on her phone. Louis looked down at his own phone, but he wasn’t really paying attention to his scrolling. Even the tip of Lestat’s fingers was enough to cause a buzz of awareness all over him.

“Les,” Cookie called from the first row, “Jasper wants to come tomorrow night, is that okay?

Lestat looked up at Cookie, “Who is Jasper?”

“The guy you kicked out of the house in Stockholm.”

“If I’ve already kicked him out of somewhere it would be safe to assume I don’t enjoy his company.”

Cookie huffed and turned around.

Jay started talking again, “The set list is locked. Alright, no more changes.”

“It’s locked when I say it is lovely Jay.”

Louis listened to him talk, listened to the litany of people who needed his approval for this thing or that thing, how every hour of his day was accounted for. He looked down at Claudia, watching tv.

Louis bumped Claudia’s shoulder with his own. She removed an earbud.

“Don’t forget I put books on there for you,” he said.

She scrunched his nose at him. He scrunched his back.

“Read the Hunger Games. You liked the movie.”

She rolled her eyes, “I already know how it ends.”

“That’s not the point of reading a book,” Louis said.

“Then what is?”

“Read it and find out,” Louis said.

It didn’t take them long to get to the hotel. Their whole party was staying on the same floor. Louis and Claudia would stay in two-bedroom hotel suites for the entire tour. Lestat’s suite was across from them. The band was at the other end of the hall. There were a bunch of other people traveling with the tour that hadn’t been on the plane. Louis didn’t have a clue how many. Didn’t matter. Claudia was his only concern.

He got her settled in. Or as settled in as she could get for two nights. The next show was on the ninth, in Glasgow.

It was late. He wanted to get her something light to eat and into bed, so she adjusted to the time difference.

“Go shower and change. I’m going to go see if your father is going to eat with you tonight or if that starts tomorrow,”

“Fine,” Claudia said, dragging herself off the couch in the sitting room in between their bedrooms.

Louis opened the door to their suite. Lestat’s door was also open.

He was standing in the center of the room. Cookie was leaning against him, arm around his neck, lips pressed to his cheek, taking a picture of them. Larry hopped up from the couch and pressed his lips to Lestat’s other cheek, and Cookie took another picture. Lestat was smiling, and his hands slipped around either of their waists.

Louis ignored the unease he felt at the sight and walked into the room.

“Mr. Lioncourt,” he called, “Quick question.”

Lestat turned to him, his eyes narrowed. He moved Larry and Cookie away and strode toward Louis.

“I thought we agreed on first names,” Lestat said.

Louis glanced around the room and then at the floor. He didn’t even want to reference last night in front of all these people.

“I just wanted to ask if you were planning on having a quick bite with Claudia. She needs to get to bed.”

“Of course. I said every night,” Lestat said, “Room service should be up to your suite soon.”

“Oh. Great.”

“I hope you like pasta. It was the only thing halfway decent on the menu.”

Louis looked up, “Me? I thought it would be just you and Claudia.”

Lestat’s brow creased, “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I thought it would be a nice father-daughter thing. Family time.”

“And you are just going to eat alone then?” Lestat tilted his head.

“That’s not really your concern.”

Lestat’s head jerked back a bit, “Louis—“

He wasn’t doing this here, “Claudia’s getting ready for bed. I’ll hurry her so you can eat together.”

Louis went back across the hall. He’d heard the shower from Claudia’s room. He sat down on the couch.

Lestat was a planet around which many people orbited, and Louis was just one of them. He would do well to remember that. He couldn’t get to thinking he was special. Maybe Lestat seduced employees all the time. He wasn’t a good person.

Claudia padded out and joined him in the living room, and they watched tv together. When room service came Louis had them set up two places at the dining room table by the bay windows. He took his own plate into his room.

It wasn’t long until he heard Lestat come in. Louis sat cross-legged on his bed, eating his pasta. It was pretty good. He heard Lestat and Claudia’s slow foray into a conversation. Mostly Lestat asking banal questions and Claudia providing monosyllabic answers.

“Are you excited about the show?” Lestat asked.

“Yeah,” Claudia said.

“Well, that makes one of us.”

Silence.

“Have you listened to Witches’ Place?”

Witches’ Place was Lestat’s latest album. This was the Witches’ Place World Tour. The name and the logo, a single flame, was all over the place. On t-shirt, clipboards, crew jackets, water bottles.

“Yeah,” Claudia said again.

“Dear god. I really wish you hadn’t,” Lestat sounded genuinely upset. After a pause, he asked, “What did you think of it?”

“It’s better than the last one,” Claudia said.

“Really? I thought my last one was the best I’d ever done. Don’t think I can match it really.”

“No. It’s better,” Claudia said.

“Why?” Lestat asked.

“I dunno. I could actually understand what you were even talking about.”

There was a long pause.

“That’s something I suppose,” Lestat said, his voice somber, “And you were always very discerning.”

Silence.

“Do you miss piano? Or have you still sworn off music for life?”

A long pause, “Kinda.”

“Kind of what?”

“I kind of miss it.”

“Well. You can always take it up again. Or any other instrument. Or anything really. You can build a rocket ship in the backyard.”

Claudia laughed a little.

“I’m serious. Just don’t use any of my cars for parts. Use Louis’s car.”

She laughed in earnest now. Louis smiled to himself.

Eventually, Lestat left. Louis came out of his room to tell Claudia to go to bed, insisting she leave her electronics to charge in the living room, so she actually slept. She actually listened.

“Night Louis,” Claudia called as she closed her bedroom door.

“Night honey,” Louis called back.

The morning went fairly smoothly. Neither Louis nor Claudia was overly tired. They got through the school day without much friction and then went on a walk around the city.

“I want to send my sister a postcard,” Louis said as they exited the hotel. He’d finally told Grace what he was doing for work, though he’d hedged a lot. Private tutor for a wealthy family that was heading to Europe for the summer. She thought it sounded glamorous.

“You have a sister?” Claudia asked.

“Yeah, and a brother. Grace and Paul. But Paul would just throw the postcard away.”

“Where are they?”

“Back home in New Orleans. Let’s try over there,” he pointed out a store that looked kind of touristy, and they went inside.

“We should get matching t-shirts,” Louis said, holding a particularly ugly one up.

“You should get that t-shirt. By yourself,” Claudia said, and Louis laughed.

There were postcards by the register. Louis picked one that had a castle on it. Claudia was rifling through the postcard rack.

“You want one?” Louis asked.

“I don’t have anyone to send it to,” Claudia said.

Her aunt Lily? Her grandparents? Were Lestat’s parents in her life?

“I meant as a keepsake,” Louis said.

Claudia shrugged. But then she slid a postcard across the counter toward him.

Louis’s love for her wasn't a simple thing. Of course, it wasn’t. But as they wandered along the streets, eventually making their way back to the hotel, Louis wanted to take her hand in his. He wanted to find her Aunt Lily’s address to send a postcard. He wanted to call her grandparents, on both sides and ask what was up. He wanted to fly her home right now and enroll her in school, on a sports team, and in piano lessons. He wanted her whole life to be his business. Louis wanted to take care of her. And that was a very complicated thing to want.

Lestat. It was too much to even think about. Too dangerous to even dream about. That what he felt for Claudia, and what he felt for Lestat, could come to mean anything coherent. Like a family.

100k. A place to live. Claudia to care for, within the parameters of his job description.

Late in the afternoon, a car came to take them to the stadium.

Once again, Louis realized how little he comprehended Lestat’s fame. The stadium sat forty thousand, and the show was sold out. Every single show was sold out. Jay had mentioned it in the car. Two million people would attend this tour.

But to see it. The massive structure rising by the river. And to know that every single seat would be filled for him. Louis would have been just as attracted to Lestat if he wasn’t famous. But he was. Lestat was a giant.

What was Louis? He didn’t want to be morose or self-pitying about it. There was nothing he could do. He was a normal person, and if he wasn’t careful, Lestat, the giant, would chew him up and spit him out.

An assistant met them and led them through the labyrinth of backstage, depositing them in a green room. The show started at seven, in two hours.

Louis was pleased when he saw Claudia was reading on her iPad, but he didn’t say anything lest his approval made her want to quit. He pulled a paperback out of his bag, and they read sitting side by side on the couch. An hour passed.

“Claudia.”

They both looked up.

Lestat was standing in the doorway.

He was wearing a stylized, old-fashioned military dress uniform, entirely in white, with golden epaulets and rows of gleaming gold buttons. It fit incredibly close, like it had been sewn on. His hair was caught up in a sleek, low ponytail. White leather boots hugged his calves. He looked like he stepped out of time.

“Come to hair and makeup,” Lestat said, jerking his head to the right, “Then they’ll help you with your dress. I’ll bring you out for the finale.”

Claudia stood excitedly, “You look like gay Napoleon,” she said, rushing past him.

“Thank you,” he laughed.

Lestat turned back to Louis, who had stood to follow Claudia.

“You will watch with her?” Lestat asked.

Louis nodded. Lestat was impossibly beautiful. Louis didn’t want to speak or look at him. He wanted to go home. Wherever that was.

“Who’s your favorite musician, Louis?” Lestat asked.

Louis did look at him now, confused, “Uh. Why?”

Lestat sighed, and took a step further into the room, “Because I want to know everything about you. I’ve been living on so little.”

Louis took a step back. Lestat took another step forward.

“I cannot be near you without wondering about you. I cannot be apart from you without wondering about you. Which is to say, of course, that you are the whole of my thoughts.”

The back of Louis’s legs hit the couch. Lestat kept moving forward. He slid his hands up Louis’s arms, gripping his shoulders.

“I’m starving, Louis. Give me something.”

Louis found it hard to breathe with him so close, his hands on him.

“I don’t know,” Louis said. He’d forgotten every musician to ever exist. Save one.

“Genre then,” Lestat’s hands flexed against Louis’s flesh, and he pulled him closer.

“Um. I….R&B,” Louis said.

Lestat hummed in satisfaction, “Good. One more fact to cherish.”

All of Louis’s logic and resolve were beginning to fall away. Lestat ducked his head suddenly and kissed Louis’s collarbone. Louis gasped. Lestat began to kiss slowly up his neck, moving his arms around Louis’s waist.

“So lovely,” Lestat murmured against his skin. Louis was helpless, nearly limp in his arms, eyes raised heavenward, lost in the feeling of Lestat’s kisses, his roaming hands.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Lestat jerked back, and Louis jumped. They both turned to the owner of the voice.

A white woman, long brown hair, blue eyes, early forties. Louis recognized her from all his googling. Antoinette Brown.

“Ravishing some poor young thing damn near in public. You haven’t changed at all,” she sauntered into the room.

“What are you doing here?” Lestat asked, his voice low and hard.

“I was in London. I thought I’d come to see your first big night. Didn’t mean to interrupt your traditional pre-show tryst.”

Louis’s face burned. He moved further away from Lestat, stumbling back.

“I— I should go see if Claudia needs me,” he mumbled.

“Louis,” Lestat reached for him, but Louis was moving too fast.

“Claudia?” Antoinette laughed, “Now Les don’t tell me you’re screwing the babysitter. That’s a bit much even for you.”

Louis slipped past her into the hall. Lestat was yelling something at Antoinette behind him. Louis was going to cry. Goddamn it. He went in the opposite direction of hair and makeup, trying to find the bathroom. He found one, thank god. He shoved inside.

“Louis!” He heard Lestat call outside. He locked the door and leaned his back against it.

“Louis!” He heard Lestat walk off in the opposite direction. Louis closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Stupid to cry. Stupid to be humiliated. Louis knew what it was. And for a second it seemed worth it, to be desired by Lestat, even for a moment.

It wasn’t. He needed to pull himself together, go find Claudia.

But he waited. Waited until it was so close to show time Lestat couldn’t possibly be bothering to look for him anymore. Then he went to Claudia, who was twirling around in her white dress with all its tulle and gold epaulets on her little shoulders to match her father.

He couldn’t help but smile at her, “You look amazing.”

She bounced on her toes, “Let’s go!”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hallway. He let himself be pulled. A crew member met them at the end of the hall and led them up.

The opener was already on. The crew member showed them to two chairs set up as close as possible to the stage, angled for the best view.

Louis looked out over the crowd. A huge mass of people.

Now Les don’t tell me you’re screwing the babysitter. That’s a bit much even for you.

The opener finished their set. The crowd shifted. Restless. The lighting across the stadium changed.

Screams. Thousands of screams. Merging into one voice, inarticulate passion. But then shifting, a word-forming on every tongue, all at once.

Lestat! Lestat! Lestat!

Over and over they chanted. A name not just precious to Louis, but to them all.

The stadium went completely dark. The screaming increased its pitch, losing form. On and on, coming and going in waves, until it seemed like they just might scream forever.

And then a single spotlight. There he was.

Impossibly loud now, the crowd, almost frightening in their fervor. Claudia shook Louis’s shoulder in excitement and clapped her hands.

Lestat raised his arms slowly, holding them out wide. The crowd surged forward like he was commanding them with his hands.

His arm slowly rose above his head, and he looked heavenward. And he stood still for a long moment, an angel in white.

In one sharp movement, he brought his arms slicing down, and at that moment precisely you heard the crash of drums. The show had begun.

His voice surrounded Louis. Soaring, reckless, commanding. There was a long runway out into the crowd, and he strode down it, the spotlight following him, his voice and the music building. The apex. A burst of light.

The screens came to life, the band was illuminated, the lights dazzled. But to Louis, Lestat was alone on that stage.

He never stopped moving. Song after song, he lept, twirled, danced, strutted. He grinded against Cookie while she played the base. He touched the grasping hands rising from the audience. He was furious, then flirtatious, then sorrowful. The crowd was at his mercy, singing along, or listening in rapturous silence.

Louis forgot himself. He lost all sense of time. He was just the thing that watched Lestat. Desire swelled so big within him that it stretched past the limits of his body. Louis was in love.

He was in love. Lestat leaned forward on one knee, arm reaching upward, belting out a song Louis had never heard, a song Louis would never forget. So disoriented was he that Louis didn't realize that the song was over, that it had been the encore, and that Lestat striding toward them wasn't part of the performance, but him leaving the stage. Suddenly he was in front of them, sweat-soaked, his uniform clinging even tighter to his body.

“Come with me ma petite,” he said, smiling down at Claudia, then picking her right off her feet and carrying her onto the stage.

Louis watched them on the massive screens. When they reached the center of the stage Lestat put her down and clasped her hand, waving and blowing kisses to the audience with the other. Claudia mimicked him, her eyes shining with delight. The crowd roared as mightily as ever. Lestat raised their bound hands, and Claudia followed him into a sweeping bow. The show was over.

The Lioncourts walked off the stage toward Louis, still holding hands. The band followed them. The lights came on in the stadium. The crowd began to disperse. Roget and Jay and others surrounded them, clapping Lestat on the shoulder.

“He did well.”

Louis whipped his head to the side, startled. Armand was beside him.

“That part where he let the audience sing for him was because he forgot the lyrics, but no one but me would notice.”

Louis felt like he was waking up from a dream. He just looked at Armand.

“I’ll tell you a secret Louis,” Armand leaned down, placing a hand on Louis’s shoulder, bringing his lips very close to Louis’s ear, “If he wasn’t so utterly and completely obsessed with you, I would’ve taken you to a bed a hundred times by now. And if you weren’t so obsessed with him, you would’ve let me.”

Louis’s mouth fell open. Armand leaned back and smiled down at him serenely.

“The things I’ll sacrifice for love,” Armand sighed. Then he turned and walked backstage.

Chapter 15: render them hardy, patient, self-denying

Chapter Text

Louis eventually got himself moving. The crew was buzzing around him, shutting things down for the night. When he glanced back out at the stadium, he saw the audience had mostly gone. He’d been standing there overthinking for a while. Louis had never been in love before. There was a lot to think about.

But it was time to get Claudia and head back if she had any chance at a decent night's sleep. Louis walked down the long hallway to the green room. The door was open.

“We’ll ride back together. I’ll just go change,” Lestat was saying to Claudia.

Absurdly, Louis backed out of the doorway, as if he planned to run and hide. He didn’t want to see Lestat. Louis didn’t trust himself around him.

But Lestat was already emerging from the room, turning in Louis’s direction. He stopped when he saw him.

Utterly and completely obsessed with you. That’s what Armand said. Did he have a reason to lie to Louis? And what did obsession mean?

Lestat moved toward him. Louis moved back.

Suddenly the distance was closed, and Louis was pressed against the wall, and Lestat’s hand was holding his face, the other arm locked around his waist, and Lestat was kissing him, roughly, forcefully, and Louis went limp, and opened, kissing Lestat back with equal desperation, clutching at his shoulders.

Then it was over. Lestat pulled away. Stared at Louis. Inhaled deeply. Then he turned and walked down the hall.

They were in the middle of a hallway that any crew member or fellow Lioncourt employee could walk down. Claudia could have come out and seen them. Louis had forgotten all that the instant Lestat’s lips were on his. Lestat caused Louis relentless disorientation. In and out of dreams. In and out of reality. What was real? What mattered more? The fire that had overtaken Louis’s whole body. The painful swell of raw love in his heart. Or the facts. Who Louis was, and who Lestat was to him.

He walked into the green room in a daze.

Claudia was curled up on the couch, head tucked into her arms. If she wasn’t asleep already she would be soon. Louis sat down next to her. There was nothing to cover her with. He laid a hand on her head, stroked her curls gently. She wiggled closer to him, pressing her head into his side like a cat. Her breathing grew slow and heavy. Louis let her sleep.

Lestat had kissed Louis in some form twice tonight. Something insupportable was building between them. Insupportable love had already taken root in Louis’s heart.

Now Les don’t tell me you’re screwing the babysitter. That’s a bit much even for you.

Was Louis a fool? Was that who Lestat was? A rich man trying to screw the babysitter. Who shoved the babysitter up against walls and had their way with them, where anyone could see. Because he could. Because he didn’t care. Never mind that the babysitter loved his daughter, and took care of her when no one else had given enough of a f*ck to do it. Including him. Lestat didn’t care. He didn’t have to. He paid people to care for him.

And Louis did care. He cared about Claudia.

“Is she asleep?”

Lestat was back. He’d changed into a white t-shirt and black jeans, and his hair was loose and messy.

Louis nodded.

Lestat walked over to the couch, reached down, and picked Claudia up, carrying her like a baby. She stirred a little.

“I’ll take you to the car. Just hold on,” Lestat said softly.

Claudia’s eyes drifted closed again, and she wrapped her arms around Lestat’s neck.

“Come, Louis,” Lestat said, turning and walking out of the room with Claudia.

Louis stood looking at the doorway for a moment. One minute, he was resolved to put Claudia’s needs first. And then Lestat showed his face. In and out of reality. Was Louis really so weak?

He gathered Claudia’s things and shoved them into his backpack. By the time he got to the car Claudia and Lestat were already seated, Claudia curled up against Lestat’s side, still asleep. Louis climbed in and sat in one of the back-facing seats, sliding all the way to the opposite end of Lestat, like it would make a difference.

The door shut. The driver started the car.

Louis stared out the window, hoping Lestat ignore him.

“What’s your favorite book, Louis?”

Lestat had spoken softly, so as not to disturb Claudia. Louis didn’t even want to look at him. He didn’t respond.

“I see you reading all the time. I’m always so curious about what.”

Louis inhaled through his nose. Kept his eyes on the streets of Cardiff passing by.

“I don’t have a favorite book. Tell me what yours is and it'll be my favorite too. I’ll read it and you can tell me what to think about it.”

Louis clenched his hands in his lap.

“What else do you like to do, besides read? I see you go for walks around the neighborhood. Is that for practicality or pleasure?”

Louis turned to look at him. His head was tilted, his face open and inquisitive.

This wasn’t real. Lestat did this all the time, everyone knew that.

“When we get back to LA, I think I should move out. Commute in every day,” Louis said, surprising himself. But he was right. That was the solution. He couldn’t be around Lestat all the time, vulnerable to his advances.

The shift in Lestat’s face from friendly to furious was instantaneous.

“What?” He asked, his voice low and hard.

Louis tried to keep his voice resolved, “You pay me well enough to afford a place not too far away. I love this job, and taking care of Claudia. But the live-in thing isn’t working for me.”

“You living out wouldn’t work for me,” Lestat hissed.

Claudia shifted against Lestat. They both stilled. Lestat rested an arm over her and turned to stare out the window. Louis had gotten the silence he’d wished for.

It was a good idea. Louis couldn’t bear to be around him like this. Lestat would toy with him, and Louis would give in because he was in love, and he wanted to be toyed with. It was humiliating for him to realize that if it wasn’t for Claudia he’d let Lestat use him up and throw him out like any groupie. He hated what that said about him. But there was Claudia, and Louis could be strong for her, if not for himself.

The tense silence lasted until they got back to the hotel. Lestat carried Claudia inside, held her on the elevator ride up, and waited for Louis to let him into their suite. Louis immediately went to his room and shut the door. He could hear Lestat getting Claudia settled and shutting her bedroom door. Please leave. Please just leave.

There was a knock on the door of Louis's room.

Louis didn’t answer. He just sat on his bed.

Another knock. And another

Maybe he’d go away eventually.

“I’m not generally a patient man Louis, but I will learn the skill for you.”

Louis sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. Why did he say things like that?

Louis got up and walked to the door, opening it slowly. Lestat was leaning against the doorframe. He didn’t look pleased.

“You living in the house was a clear requirement from the beginning,” Lestat said.

Louis’s temper flared, “Yes. But kissing you wasn’t.”

Lestat’s jaw twitched, “I will not agree to your proposed new arrangement.”

“So you’re firing me?”

Lestat’s face grew hard, “No.”

“Then we’re at an impasse,” Louis was proud of the steadiness of his voice, “Because I can’t continue to live in your house.”

“Why?”

Louis was flabbergasted, “Why?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I—” Louis sputtered, “You keep kissing me.”

“I was under the impression that you liked it,” Lestat tossed his hair out of his face.

“That’s not the point,” Louis said, cheeks burning, “I’m your employee. You can’t go around kissing your employees. Well, you probably can, but not this employee. Not me.”

Lestat’s face shuttered, “That’s what you think of me? That I’m as indiscriminate as that?”

“Yes!” Louis huffed, “I don’t know! What else am I supposed to think?”

“You could believe me when I say I have very strong feelings for you,” Lestat said.

Louis swallowed. He’d like to believe that.

“So what?” Louis said.

Lestat's brows drew together, “What do you mean?”

“So what if you have strong feelings for me? So you want to f*ck me. Okay. Then what?”

Lestat flinched, “I have made it clear that my interest in you goes beyond—”

“I let you f*ck me. I tell you my favorite singer. Then what? We date? Casual, like normal people? No. You’re insanely famous. And I work for you. I take care of your daughter. I’m the only person that takes care of your daughter.”

Lestat moved forward suddenly, crowding Louis back into the room. He shut the door behind him.

“So you feel for nothing for me?” Lestat asked, moving Louis back and back, towards the bed.

I’m in love with you. Which makes this all so much worse.

Louis halted, refusing to be moved any further, though now Lestat was pressed against him, staring down into his eyes, “It doesn’t matter! I love Claudia, and someone has to think about her!”

Lestat’s expression changed. His eyes grew distant. He stepped back.

“I think about Claudia,” he said, his voice soft, and shockingly, wounded.

Louis’s heart lurched, “I’m sorry. I’m sure—”

“No,” Lestat shook his head, “No. I’ve earned your poor opinion.”

Louis didn’t know what to say. Lestat moved further away from him. The room was dim, with just the bedside lamp on. Louis watched Lestat draw into himself. Watched emotions play across his face silently as he looked at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“My ex-wife. Whom you had the displeasure of meeting tonight. We were married for a very short while. Less than a year. She didn’t like Claudia. Admitted it freely after a while. Like it’s a normal thing not to like a perfectly wonderful nine-year-old.”

Lestat wasn’t looking at him. It was almost like he wasn’t talking to him either. Like he just needed to say the words out loud.

“And her grandparents. They always hated me. I couldn’t blame them. I knocked up their daughter, and wouldn’t marry her. That’s all I thought it was until Maya died. But it was more. They hated that when I came to visit I brought her gifts. That I took her to see whatever movie she wanted. That I told her she didn’t have to go to church if she didn’t want to. They’re cold people. Controlling people.”

Lestat turned away, so Louis could only see his profile.

“All those schools. The ones that didn’t kick her out outright talked about her like she was fundamentally bad. Like there was something irredeemably wrong with her. I hated them all. Couldn’t stand to send her to anymore.”

Lestat raised his hand and shoved his hair out of his face. He turned back to Louis suddenly, meeting his eyes, and Louis was stunned by the pain there.

“I know how to get rid of the danger. Defeat it, or remove her from it. I can take things away. But I don’t know how to give her anything. Or what to do when the hurt has already been done.”

Lestat’s voice was ragged and raw. Louis had never wanted to hold anyone so much in his life. He ached with it. But he couldn’t move.

“You know though,” Lestat’s voice was soft again, and he was looking at Louis with a sort of dazed wonder, “How?”

It took Louis a long time to even register that Lestat had asked him a question, “What?”

“How do you know what to do for her?” Lestat asked earnestly.

Louis could barely think, “I—I don’t know. I—I guess I just do for her what I wish someone. Would’ve done for me.”

Lestat’s face softened. He nodded slowly.

Neither of them spoke. Silence stretched between them, heavy with want and restraint.

Suddenly Lestat laughed, low and weary. Louis looked up at him.

Lestat sighed deeply, a joyless smile on his lips, “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And you want me to leave you alone.”

Before Louis could reply, Lestat was at the door to his room, and then the door to the suite, and then he’d left, the door shutting firmly behind him.

Chapter 16: come to me entirely now

Chapter Text

Lestat left Louis alone in Glasgow.

The flight from Cardiff was short, and the whole way Claudia needled Lestat to let her go to the Glasgow show too. Louis sat in what he now considered his seat. In the very back by the bedroom, near the window. He watched the land recede beneath them and listened to Lestat and Claudia’s conversation.

“We said one a week ma petite,” Lestat said.

“Why did I even come if I can’t go to the shows?” Claudia asked.

“Because I wanted you with me. But we had an arrangement. If Louis deems it wise you can come to the Manchester show. Or London.”

“So you want me with you for the boring parts but not the fun parts.”

“Precisely. It’s not that I want you to learn and be healthy, no I've planned this world tour as an elaborate ruse to annoy you.”

“I knew it,” Claudia said.

Roget interrupted, “Sorry, Lestat, but it’s Nicki again. He’s very insistent and—“

“Tell him Paris. And only Paris. And I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“Of course.”

“What if I sleep all day on the days we don’t have shows? So I’m superawake on the days we do,” Claudia said.

“Very pragmatic. I can’t imagine that sleep cycle would have any negative consequences whatsoever.”

“So I can do it?”

“No.”

For the three days they were in Glasgow it was just Claudia and Louis. Doing school in the morning and taking walks around the city in the afternoon. They bought more postcards. In the evenings Louis made himself scarce when Lestat and Claudia had dinner together.

Even if Louis could make himself stop thinking about Lestat, which was a rare occurrence, he couldn’t stop his body from remembering. Every kiss hungry, tinged with desperation. The urgency in his clenching hands. The muscles of his back under Louis’s fingers.

Lestat hadn’t actually agreed to him commuting instead of living in, but Louis hung all his hopes on it. There was no other option. He just had to make it to October 4th, the end of the tour. His birthday, coincidentally.

The second night, when the Lioncourts were eating before the show, Armand crossed paths with Louis as he was leaving the hotel.

“Hello Louis,” Armand slowed his stroll down the sidewalk. He was wearing a loose white linen shirt, open at the collar, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black trousers.

“Oh, hi. I’d thought you’d left,” Louis said. Of course, he immediately recalled the last thing Armand had said to him, and couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Without saying goodbye? Never,” Armand smiled at him, “Where are you headed?”

“I was just going to try to find some food,” Louis said.

“Excellent. I know a place.”

Armand walked towards Louis, slipping an arm in his and beginning to lead him down the street. Louis was so flustered by Armand’s presumption that he let himself be led.

Armand took him to a little restaurant not far from the hotel. Exposed brick, long wooden bar, little bistro tables. It was crowded, but Armand got them a table quickly. Fame, Louis supposed. He ordered for them, rattling off a long list of dishes, and specifying a wine. Again it was presumptuous of him, but Louis didn’t actually mind. His brain was tired, it was nice for someone else to decide things, even for a moment.

The waiter left them, and Armand turned the full intensity of his gaze in Louis’s direction.

If you weren’t so obsessed with him, you’d let me.

Would Louis let him? Probably, but he had too much on his plate already. He couldn’t even let his brain go there.

“So here we are, both avoiding our lovers,” Armand said, taking a sip of his wine.

Louis almost choked, “What?”

Armand gestured between them, “I found you dawdling on the streets of Glasgow avoiding Lestat while I do much the same with my Daniel.”

“He isn’t—He’s not my. Lover,” Louis said, the word awkward on his tongue.

“Oh, I know. It’s driving him crazy,” Armand said, resting his head on his clasped hands, “I’m quite enjoying it I must say.”

“He’s told you about….us?”

Armand nodded, “Yes. Or at least he’s told me a great deal. I can infer the rest. Lestat isn’t complicated.”

Louis scoffed without meaning to.

“What?” Armand said.

“Nothing I just…nothing,” Louis shook his head. He found Lestat incredibly complicated. He told Louis himself he was a bad man, a player. And then he said things like you are the whole of my thoughts.

“You disagree I assume. Maybe I can help bring some clarity,” Armand raised his brows and opened his hands, inviting the question.

Louis didn’t want to ask.

“Is he…is he a good person?”

Armand smiled softly at him, and folded his hands on the table before him, “He wants to be. Desperately. But when he is good, it's usually by accident.”

Louis looked down, absorbing this silently, trying to decide what it meant. If it made a difference.

Armand took a drink of his wine, “So are you going to put him out of his misery? I hope you don’t. I’m enjoying it immensely.”

Louis shook his head. He couldn’t talk about Lestat anymore, “I don’t….why are you avoiding your boyfriend?” he asked suddenly, in a clumsy attempt at deflection.

Armand graciously took the bait, “So we can stay together.”

“What do you mean?” Louis’s brow wrinkled. Armand was a baffling.

“He has a tendency to get angry and leave. So now I’m leaving. If I’m not there he can’t keep breaking up with me.”

“Why does he keep breaking up with you?” Louis asked.

“I’m a difficult person,” Armand said.

Louis laughed at his honesty.

Armand smiled. He was so pretty.

“I am though. Truly. I won't be exclusive with him. I won’t move in with him. I won’t marry him. All of which he has expressed clear and urgent desires for.”

“Why not?”

“Many reasons,” Armand shrugged, “But mostly I can’t feel trapped. I’ve been trapped before. Didn’t enjoy it.”

Armand’s tone was light, but a shadow passed over his face.

“So…if you don’t want what he wants, why not break up with him?”

“Because I love him, and I’m terribly selfish,” Armand said simply.

“Wow,” Louis said.

Armand laughed, “Wow indeed.”

Louis felt bad for the guy, Daniel. There was a reason Armand and Lestat were the best of friends. Birds of a feather. Too beautiful, too charismatic for anyone to resist for long. Even after such a frank admission of his faults, Louis could understand why someone could get caught up in Armand. The way he was with Lestat.

“Do you want me to tell you every embarrassing thing Lestat has ever done? It would be funny if you decided you didn’t like him anymore,” Armand said.

Louis smiled, “No thanks.”

Louis would probably just find that endearing.

Armand turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk to. They talked about movies, and music, and Louis asked what certain celebrities were like in real life. Armand thought most of them were awful and was happy to explain why.

Louis needed to get back to Claudia. She and Lestat would be done eating soon. He and Armand walked back to the hotel together.

“Oh this is delicious,” Armand said suddenly. Then he snaked his arm around Louis’s waist, tugging him against his side.

Too late Louis understood what he meant. Lestat was climbing into the car at the front of the hotel to leave for the show. And of course, he saw them, his eyes on Armand’s arm. They were already near Lestat by the time it occurred to Louis to say something to Armand or shake him off.

Lestat’s jaw was tense. He was glaring at Armand. They were friends, he had to know Armand was kidding, right?

“Hello Lestat,” Armand said, “Glad to catch you. I’ll ride along.”

Lestat didn’t say anything.

“Lovely dining with you Louis,” Armand said. Then he turned Louis to him and placed a lingering kiss on either of Louis’s cheeks.

He laughed softly in Louis's ear, “What did I tell you? Uncomplicated. He’s as easy now as he was when we were twenty.”

Armand released Louis, and climbed into the car, sliding past Lestat. Lestat glanced at Louis for a moment. Louis’s heart stuttered. Then Lestat turned and climbed into the car after Armand. Louis saw Lestat shove Armand hard in the shoulder. He heard Armand laugh.

They were weird friends. Louis went back inside to spend the rest of the night with Claudia.

Lestat left Louis alone in Manchester.

It was what Louis wanted. What he knew was best.

It was torture. On the plane ride, Lestat sat with the band on the couches to talk about the setlist. Larry sat on the floor near Lestat’s feet. He kept turning around and touching Lestat’s knee, running a hand up and down his calf. Had they slept together? Were they sleeping together?

Louis passed Lestat in the hallway on show day, going to sort a healthy breakfast for Claudia. All Lestat did was nod at him before turning back to his conversation with Jay, who was walking with him. And so on and so, barely acknowledging each other's existence.

Louis was being ridiculous. This is what he asked for. But it had felt so good, to be wanted by Lestat, even if it could come to nothing. He’d known Lestat’s attraction would fade, even if he gave in. Had it faded that fast? Humiliating to think so.

What did Louis want? For Lestat to pursue him? For Lestat to leave him alone? Only one option made sense.

Show night, Cookie trailed Lestat into Louis and Claudia’s suite. Louis was getting ready to head out. He closed his bedroom door behind him.

“Come on Les, he’s so fun to have around,” Cookie punched Lestat playfully on the shoulder.

“Are you implying I’m not fun enough for you?” Lestat turned to her, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, you’re plenty fun,” Cookie leaned into him, hands on his waist. Louis felt a staggeringly intense flare of jealousy. He pressed his lips together.

“Then why do we need him?” Lestat smiled, leaning forward over her.

“Nicki’s the kind of fun you used to be. The kind of fun we still like to be,” Cookie said.

Lestat put his hands over Cookie’s and lifted them off his waist, “I said no.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, turning to leave, “Fine. You actually aren’t enough fun by the way.”

Louis remembered he was leaving too. He grabbed his wallet from his backpack and slipped it into his pocket. He stuck his head in Claudia’s room, “Your father is here for dinner. Text me if you need anything.”

She looked up from where she was reading on the bed, “Why don’t you just stay?”

“You need your family time,” he said.

“But—“

“I’ll be back soon,” he said. He walked past Lestat, who was on the phone.

“Tell him to stop calling the band. Remind him of our—hold on a moment—Louis.”

Louis halted in front of the door. He turned around reluctantly.

“My mother is meeting us in London. She’s going to spend the day before the show with Claudia, so you’re free to do as you like.”

Lestat’s mother? She was a part of Claudia’s life? Claudia had never mentioned her. Louis felt a surge of protectiveness. Was she good for Claudia? Could she be trusted with her for a whole day?

But Claudia wasn’t his child. She was Lestat’s. Louis didn’t get a say.

He nodded at Lestat, who nodded back and returned to his phone call. Louis left.

On the flight to London Louis and Claudia sat next to each other. She was on the third book of the Hunger Games series. She was asking for more like it, and he was scouring Goodreads for recommendations.

“What’s your grandmother like?” He asked Claudia, trying to keep his voice casual.

“The white one or the black one?” Claudia asked, turning the page on her iPad.

He wanted to know about both actually, but one was more pressing, “The white one. The one meeting us in London.”

“Oh. She’s weird. But cool.”

“Weird how?” Louis asked, his brow knitting.

“Uh like, she doesn’t talk a lot. And she dresses really bad. Like really bad. Even though Dad sends her tons of money. And she hates wearing shoes. She takes them off all the time even when it’s gross.”

Claudia had no idea she’d just called Lestat dad. It didn’t even register to her. She just kept talking about her grandmother. Saying that she actually called her Gabrielle instead of Grandma, and she carried a really sharp knife with her everywhere. The knife thing was disturbing, but Louis was too overcome to think about it.

She’d called him dad and he hadn’t even heard. Louis was filled with the most bittersweet ache. It was working. Something was healing between father and daughter. He was a little proud, to think that he’d contributed.

If he and Lestat were what? Dating? Lovers, as Armand had said? Louis would have gone to him and told him what Claudia said. And he would’ve gotten to watch his face as he was overcome with joy, and he would’ve gotten to hug him, and smooth the fine blonde hair on the back of his neck, and tell him he was doing so well, so much better.

But they weren’t. Louis wasn’t anything more to him than an employee, he’d made sure of it.

Louis was nervous about letting Clauida go with her grandmother. In fact, he didn’t want to let her go with her grandmother.

Lestat had brought her to their suite, walking arm and arm with her, talking at her excitedly. She was a tiny, doll-like woman. It was strange, she was like a miniature, more delicate Lestat. Same blue eyes, same sharp jaw, same voluminous blonde hair.

Claudia was right, she did dress conspicuously bad. Huge, holey men’s cargo pants. Shredded t-shirt. Hair in a frizzy ponytail. But it only drew attention to how beautiful she was.

When Louis asked what they planned to do, she just said, “Explore.”

“Okay. Explore what?” Louis asked.

“Whatever strikes us as interesting,” Gabrielle said, smiling at Claudia.

That wasn’t even close to good enough for Louis. If he could have objected, he would have, strenuously. But Lestat seemed perfectly content to let Clauida go “exploring” with his mother.

Before they left Louis pulled Claudia to the side.

“Give me your phone. I’m gonna share your location with me.”

“Why? Creep,” Claudia said wrinkling her nose.

“Do you want me to have a million heart attacks and die? Just share your location.”

She grumbled but passed him her phone.

Claudia and Gabrielle left. Louis didn’t know how he was going to enjoy his day worrying about her, but he’d try. He’d never been to London, he should explore too.

Lestat was lingering. He stood by the door, his hand resting on the knob. He looked so beautiful. Hair loose and gleaming. He wearing a light brown suit tailored to hug his long lean body. The collar of his shirt was open, and Louis had to force himself not to stare at the v of exposed skin.

“Before you leave for your day Louis, do you have time for a word? I’ve been thinking of our last conversation.”

Louis was immediately filled with nerves. He couldn’t begin to guess what Lestat would say. It was fine if Louis moved out? It wasn’t? Louis was fired for pressing the issue?

“There’s a little park near here. I’d like to walk if you don’t mind,” Lestat opened the door for him.

Louis nodded, mute. Lestat said nothing on the elevator ride down, and Louis’s nerves increased. He could think of no outcome that wouldn’t devastate him in some way. But he'd lost jobs before. He'd been hurt by people he cared for before. He could endure it. Whatever it turned out to be. He could.

“Just this way,” Lestat said.

The little park was very close. Lots of trees, summer flowers in bloom, a charming bridge over a pond. As they started down the winding path Lestat said, “So, how would this work, you moving out?”

Louis’s heart pounded painfully. It took a moment for him to speak, “I would try to find somewhere close. So I could be there early in the morning to get her ready for the day.”

“Mmm,” Lestat nodded, “And what about evenings? She’s gotten used to eating dinner with you when we’re at home.”

“Well. Maybe,” Louis swallowed, “Maybe you can continue your evening meals with her back in LA.”

“Oh I plan on it,” Lestat nodded, “But she’d miss your company.”

“The family time is good for her,” Louis said, looking away.

“Yes. You’re right. I’m just worried about when I have to travel for work. I can’t always bring her with me,” Lestat said.

The path sloped downward. They were heading for a beautiful tree, very old, with a thick gnarled trunk and heavy branches.

“I could come to stay with her on those occasions.”

“Ah. When I won’t be there,” Lestat nodded.

“Yes,” Louis agreed.

“Well,” Lestat stepped off the path and walked towards the tree, pausing underneath it and looking up through the branches, “I must admit Louis, I don’t see any flaws in your plan.”

Louis’s heartache was foolish. This was right, this is what he wanted. Lestat had seen the wisdom in it. Or he’d gotten over his infatuation with Louis and didn’t want him anymore. The outcome was the same either way.

Louis walked towards Lestat a bit, standing just under the tree’s canopy.

“Great,” Louis said softly.

“Yes. Feel free to move out when we get back to LA if that is what you wish. I can increase your salary to offset your additional living expenses.”

Louis nodded and looked down at his feet.

“That’s very kind of you,” Louis said, his voice small.

The silence that fell between them was more painful to Louis than Lestat’s words. It was over. Whatever this had been. And Louis would leave, and have to carry all his love and naive foolish desire with him.

“Before you decide, however, I have another option to propose.”

Louis looked up at Lestat, surprised. What other option was there?

Lestat had his hands in his pockets. He walked towards Louis slowly. Was he going to kiss him again, to add insult to injury?

Lestat was standing close to him now. His expression softened as he gazed down at him.

“Beautiful Louis. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Lestat was lowering himself to one knee. What was he doing? He was going to get grass stains on his nice suit.

Lestat looked up at him. Grasped Louis’s hands in his own.

“Will you marry me, Louis?”

Louis's ears filled with a dull roar. He went numb all over. Everything looked very far away suddenly.

“What?” Louis said, but he wasn’t sure anything came out. He couldn’t have heard right. Why was Lestat on the ground? Why was he reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tiny black velvet box?

Lestat opened the box. Inside was a simple golden band.

“Will you marry me Louis?”

Louis was abruptly snapped out of his stupor, and into panic, “What are you talking about?” He backed away from Lestat, stumbling a bit. Lestat rose to his feet. Louis was right, there were grass stains on his pants.

Lestat reached for him, gathered Louis against him, though Louis was stiff in his arms.

“I’m in love with you,” Lestat said, and his voice was so soft, so enveloping, “I love you Louis.”

Louis’s eyes were wet, and his breath was coming hard, “You can’t be serious. This is mean,” Louis said. It was so mean, to toy with him like this.

Lestat smiled, bringing a hand up to cup Louis's face, “Is it so difficult to believe I adore you and want to be with you always.”

“Yes,” Louis said, his voice wavering, “We barely know each other.”

It started to rain, very lightly, a cooling mist.

“I know I need you. I know my happiness is forever tethered to your existence. That you can dictate the state of my world with a glance or a sigh. I know it is the work of my life to come to know you in all your infinite variety.”

The rain began to fall in earnest now. Slow, heavy drops.

“You can’t know what it is to live for thirty-six years thinking you were complete, only to meet someone and know instantly that you’d been living half a life without them.”

Louis went weak in Lestat’s arms. He felt completely untethered from reality. All knew were Lestat’s arms around him, and his voice, and how transfixed he was by the look in his eyes.

“You’re serious,” Louis said, awestruck. He was serious. Lestat was asking Louis to marry him.

Lestat’s eye widened, surprised laughter bubbling out of him, “Oh Louis. I wish you could feel what I feel for an instant so that you would never doubt me again.”

Louis couldn’t speak. He was shaking all the way through his fingertips. Vaguely, he felt raindrops begin to fall harder on his head. Emotion had overridden his body, and his brain couldn’t catch up. He stared at Lestat, silent, not aware of time's passage. He was trying to comprehend the stunning fact of Lestat's love.

“Louis say something,” Lestat pressed his hand urgently to Louis’s face, “I can’t stand this silence. Will you have me?”

Louis’s mouth opened, then closed. Tears started to fall down his cheeks, mingling with the rain.

Lestat wanted to marry him. The joy that tore through him was painful. Lestat loved him. This couldn’t be real.

The clouds opened. The rain beat down on them.

“Louis,” Lestat had his face in both hands now, his voice plaintive, desperate.

Louis’s lips parted.

“Yes.”

What could he say but yes? This was something Louis had never even dared to dream about. Nonsensical. Miraculous. What he wanted more than anything in this world.

An expression of savage triumph came over Lestat’s face, but when he pulled Louis to him the kiss was stunningly tender, coaxing Louis to open, to yield, and when he did Lestat’s hunger made itself known. His hands were everywhere, and he was consuming Louis completely. Louis didn’t know what his own body was doing, he was lost in Lestat.

Lestat pulled away, and Louis reached out to draw him near again. Louis realized they were both soaking wet. It was still raining.

“I need you. Now,” Lestat said. His eyes were dark, as was his voice, and there was no mistaking his intent.

Louis was scared, but his desire was bigger than his fear. He nodded.

Lestat gripped his arm and began to walk rapidly back to the hotel, Louis scrambling to keep up. Through the lobby, up the elevator. People were probably staring, though Louis couldn’t look away from Lestat long enough to see. His face in profile was hard. Completely focused.

Louis’s fear started to edge out his desire as they went into Lestat’s suite. Lestat shut and locked the door, then led him by the hand quickly into the bedroom.

Lestat was undressing him, pulling up his wet t-shirt, yanking at his belt. Louis wanted to undress him too, feel his skin on his hands, but—

“I’ve never done this before,” Louis said, his voice coming out small.

Lestat’s head snapped up to him.

“What?”

“I’ve never…not all the way. With anyone.”

Louis’s cheeks burned. It was embarrassing to admit, especially to Lestat, who—

Lestat took Louis’s face in his hands, tilting his head up, so Louis looked into his eyes.

“I will be the only one,” Lestat said, his expression and voice fierce.

Louis blinked up at him, stunned at his intensity.

“Say it,” Lestat commanded. Louis was so dazed it took him a minute to realize what Lestat wanted.

“You’ll be the only one,” Louis whispered.

Lestat made a sound low in his throat. He grabbed Louis by the waist and walked him backward, forcing him to sprawl across the bed. Louis pressed himself up on his arms. Lestat reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet box again, removing the ring and tossing it to the side. He towered over Louis. Lestat reached down and picked up Louis’s hand, sliding the ring on his finger.

“You’re mine,” Lestat said, “I’m yours. And you're mine.”

Louis nodded.

“Say it,” Lestat said, grabbing at Louis’s calves, tugging him forward, peeling his pants down his legs.

“I’m yours,” Louis said.

Lestat stripped off his sodden suit jacket.

“Again,” he commanded.

“I’m yours,” Louis barely recognized his own voice, so rough and faint.

Louis was terrified when Lestat crawled onto the bed and over him. But then he was too overwhelmed to be terrified. Lestat knew exactly what he was doing. Achingly gentle at first, and deft, easing Louis into it. Everything Louis did seemed to please him. Louis’s fumbling touches made him shudder and close his eyes. The embarrassing mewling noises Louis couldn’t stop himself from making made his gaze darken. Louis’s desperate kisses made him moan against his mouth. When Louis gasped his name, his first name. Lestat. Something seemed to break inside him. Louis had thought his kisses were relentless. They were nothing compared to this. Louis was completely undone, helpless against Lestat’s onslaught, and glad to be helpless. He’d triumphed today as surely as Lestat. Louis had done this to him. This man, his man, became a mindless, ravening, desperate creature, because of how badly he wanted him.

Afterward, Lestat looked at him in a way that seemed almost wary. Like he wasn’t sure what had just happened between them. But then he pulled Louis’s back against his front and locked them together, his arms tight around Louis, like he was afraid he was going to slip away.

Chapter 17: the orchard had been struck by lightning

Chapter Text

After a long time, Lestat gently turned Louis over so he was facing him, loosening his grip so he could look into his eyes.

“What’s your favorite book?” Lestat asked softly.

Louis smiled, “Giovanni’s Room.”

Lestat smiled back. He kissed Louis on the forehead, “I’ll read it immediately.”

Louis shifted a bit closer, tucking his head in the crook of Lestat’s neck. He smelled amazing. He felt amazing. Every time Lestat touched him, Louis’s whole body hummed in pleasure.

A phone went off. Louis sat up, slipping from Lestat’s arms. Lestat moaned in protest.

“Where’re my pants?” Louis scrambled out of the bed. It could be Claudia. His pants had been flung by the door. He fished his phone from his back pocket. It was Claudia. She’d texted him.

THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!!!!!

She’d sent him a picture of a bookstore shelf with a bunch of copies of another Hunger Games novel.

He texted her back.

Wow, I thought there were only three! Get it!

She responded.

Gabrielle’s getting it for me!

Louis smiled down at his phone. Gabrielle wasn’t that bad then if she was buying Claudia books. He loved that Claudia wanted to buy books.

I’m so glad you're having fun! He texted back.

“What is mon cher?”

Lestat was sitting up in bed, looking at Louis.

Louis looked down at the text from Claudia. He looked back up at Lestat. He swallowed. Damn.

“What’s wrong Louis?” Lestat moved toward the edge of the bed.

“I have to tell Claudia,” Louis said. He hadn’t thought beyond the promise of love and family Lestat offered him. About how they would actually make it work. How would she feel? Betrayed? Resentful? Angry? Happy seemed too much to ask for.

“We’ll tell her together,” Lestat said, reaching for him.

“No,” Louis said instantly, shaking his head, “I need to tell her alone.”

Lestat sat back, his brow creasing, “Why?”

“She trusts me,” Louis started to pace back and forth, “And I need to make sure that trust isn’t broken. That she knows that me and her are good. No matter what.”

“She doesn’t trust me then?”

“No,” Louis said. Then he stopped pacing and turned toward Lestat.

Lestat looked stricken, but only for an instant. He concealed it quickly and nodded.

“Of course, you’re right,” Lestat nodded, “Whatever you think is best.”

Louis hated the pain in his voice, though was trying to hide it. He walked towards Lestat, slipping his hands over his shoulders. Lestat immediately put his arms around his waist.

“The last time you got married it didn’t go well for her,” Louis said gently, “She needs to know that it’s different this time. That I’m still on her side.”

Lestat nodded, his mouth working.

“She called you dad,” Louis said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind Lestat’s ear.

Lestat’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Uh-huh,” Louis smiled, “We were just talking the other day and she said, “Dad does this.” She didn’t even notice she’d said it.”

Lestat looked away, absorbing this, his eyes distant.

“It’s because of you,” he said, turning back to Louis, “You're making everything better. Better than it ever was.”

Louis’s heart swelled. They could be a family. Claudia could be his daughter, really and truly. He could give her everything he wanted to give her, everything she needed. It wouldn’t be temporary until he wasn’t needed anymore. Louis could be her dad, forever. He just had to handle this all very carefully.

“I’ll tell her. Let her say what she needs to say. Then you can come in and she can ask you whatever questions she has. I can leave you two alone for that if she wants.”

“Alright,” Lestat nodded. He sighed deeply, staring up at Louis, a faint smile coming to his lips. He pressed his face lightly against Louis’s stomach. His hands slid up higher on Louis’s back, drawing him closer. Lestat kissed above his navel. Higher, up toward his chest. Then back down again.

There was a very firm knock on the door to the suite.

“Go away!” Lestat shouted. Then he kissed below Louis’s navel. Louis would also like the knocking person to leave.

They didn’t, they knocked harder.

“Va t’en!” Lestat shouted louder.

“I’m sorry, but we have a problem,” a voice called, “A viral problem!”

It was Roget.

“If it’s not something they can arrest me for it doesn’t matter!” Lestat shouted back.

“Yes but…well some are calling for your arrest. Highly unlikely but...”

Lestat made a noise of frustration. He moved Louis aside gently, and strode over to the wardrobe, angrily yanking it open and pulling out a robe.

“Here,” he passed Louis a robe as well, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Lestat tugged the robe on and left the room.

Louis looked down at the robe in his hand. He tossed it on the bed and went to find his underwear and shirt. No way he was staying in here, he wanted to know what was going on.

But that would mean coming out of Lestat’s bedroom in front of Roget.

Louis was temporarily paralyzed by indecision. Go out there and risk being embarrassed by his obvious…state. Or stay in here and worry, out of the loop.

“That’s absurd,” Lestat yelled.

That made the choice easier. Roget would find out eventually. Louis’s underwear was fine but his shirt and pants were still too soaked to put on, and he wasn’t wearing just a robe to talk to Roget.

He went over to the wardrobe. Lestat’s clothes were slightly too big and too long but they worked fine. He put on a pair of black pants and an undershirt.

Louis paused by the door. Stupid. He was a grown man and Lestat was his fiancé now.

He opened the bedroom door to the suite's living room.

Roget was sitting on one of the couches holding a phone aloft, and Lestat was standing across from him. Roget looked up, understanding dawning on his face, “Ah.”

Then the door to the suite opened, and in walked Jay and the two assistants. They too paused when they saw Louis. Jay pursed her lips.

Lestat turned around. His eyes scanned Louis from head to toe, darkening slightly. Was it not cool for Louis to borrow his clothes?

“Come, Louis, this concerns you too,” Lestat summoned him further into the room.

Louis was embarrassed now. He couldn’t help it. Everybody knew now. They were looking at him like they knew.

Louis walked over to Lestat.

“We have Lestat’s publicist Miri on the line,” Roget said to Louis, gesturing to the phone.

“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice came out of the phone.

“Jay and the team just walked in. And we have the young man in question, Louis.”

“The nanny right?” Miri asked.

“My fiancé,” Lestat snapped.

“Oh boy,” Jay said.

“What’s going on?” Louis asked uneasily

“Some ingrate decided to film us making our entrance to this hotel, and post it on the internet,” Lestat said.

“The video went viral,” Roget said.

“Here,” Jay walked over and passed Louis her phone.

It was a tweet.

Just f*cking saw Lestat de Lioncourt manhandling some poor guy in a hotel lobby smh I always knew he was a psycho

Oh god.

Slowly, Louis pushed play on the video.

Oh God.

Out of context it really did look like Lestat was “manhandling” him. Lestat had him by the arm, and it sort of looked like he was dragging Louis. And when they got to the elevator it also sort of looked like Lestat kind of…shoved Louis on. And Lestat sort of looked angry. And Louis sort of looked scared. It looked like the exact opposite of what it had been. But Louis didn’t like the idea of people knowing what it actually had been either. It had been such an intensely private moment. And now…

Louis looked up at Lestat. His face was grim.

“He’s your fiancé now. Which is a whole other situation. But that means it was a sex thing right? We can just say it was a sex thing. Like we won’t say say that obviously but we can put it around,” Miri said.

Oh GOD.

“You’re a rockstar, it’s fine,” Miri continued, “This is expected rockstar behavior.”

Louis’s panic must have shown on his face, because Lestat said, “We will do no such thing. We’ll say nothing.”

“I mean that’s one strategy. But there’s a chance if we say nothing when we announce your engagement people will be like “Oh he’s marrying the guy he beat up. Poor guys trapped.”

“I did NOT—“

“Yeah yeah, I know. But that’s what people will take away from this video. This isn’t a small thing Les. It was posted four hours ago and has a million views.”

A million. Wait. Had Claudia seen it? No, she couldn’t have. But what if she did? What would she think?

Miri continued, “Though there’s a chance the engagement news blows this all away. It just depends on how we play it.”

Louis wasn’t really hearing her anymore. One million views.

“Lestat, I need Claudia home. I need to talk to her before…” Louis trailed off. He felt sick. This was terrible.

Lestat turned to one of the assistants, “Contact security, get my daughter back here, now.”

The assistant nodded and went into the hall to make the call. Lestat grabbed Louis’s arm gently and pulled him against him, running a hand soothingly up and down his back. Louis took a deep breath.

“How do you want to handle this Lestat?” Roget asked.

“I don’t know,” Lestat snapped. He turned to Louis, “Is there something you’d like me to do Louis?”

What? Louis didn’t f*cking know. He was just a guy. He shook his head.

“I need to talk to Claudia, that matters more than…anything else,” Louis said. Please god, let her have not seen the video. He really didn’t want to have to explain that to her, or for her to think something terrible about her father.

“Alright. I’ll handle it,” Lestat said.

“Okay,” Louis pressed a hand to his forehead. He’d been so happy just ten minutes ago.

“She’ll be back in thirty,” the assistant said, coming back into the room.

Louis went back to his and Claudia’s suite, Lestat releasing him reluctantly. He paced a line in the carpet waiting for her.

Finally, Louis heard a keycard swipe. A security guard opened the door, and Claudia stomped into the room. Stomped. Because she was furious. Louis’s stomach dropped.

“Why did you make me come back?” She whined, throwing her shopping bag on the coffee table, “We were having fun! We were gonna go see where they cut heads off in old times!”

She was mad she had to come home. Not because of the video. Louis was overcome with relief.

She was still glaring at him.

“Um. Something important happened. And I wanted to tell you right away,” Louis said.

“What?” She snapped.

“Watch your tone,” Louis said automatically.

She huffed. Louis took a breath.

“Come sit with me,” he sat down on the couch and gestured for her to sit beside him. She plopped down next to him.

“Did someone die?” She asked, nonchalantly, taking out her phone.

“No,” Louis took her phone out of her hands and set it on the table, “But this is important.”

She rolled her eyes and shifted to face him.

Louis didn’t even know where to begin. He sat there kneading his hands together, looking at the floor.

“Come onnnn,” Claudia moaned.

He could do this. If he wanted to be a parent to Claudia he needed to be able to have hard conversations with her.

“I…I’ve developed very strong…feelings. For your father.”

Claudia sat up bolt upright, her brows drawing together.

Louis rushed to explain, “And I wasn’t planning on doing anything about it of course, because I love being your teacher and I didn’t want anything to change that. But…"

Louis took a deep breath. She was so tense.

“It became clear that your father felt the same way. And we’ve. We’ve decided to get married. We’re engaged. I know it’s quick. I know. But it’s right.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“And we can be a family,” he added, hopefully, foolishly.

She stared at him for a long moment, not moving. When she yelled, Louis jumped.

“You’re stupid,” she spat, “You’re STUPID!”

She shot off her feet and ran for the door, yanking it open. Louis rushed after her, his heart in his throat.

She was yanking on the doorknob of Lestat’s room, “Let me in Lestat! LET ME IN!!”

She pounded on the door with her little fist. After a moment, Lestat opened the door, looking down at Claudia, bewildered.

“Claudia—“

“You ruin EVERYTHING!” She shoved him with all her might. He didn’t budge. She shoved him again.

“Claudia,” Lestat tried to catch her hands.

“I hate you! You ruin everything! Everything, everything, EVERYTHING!”

Louis just stood there, knowing she needed to get it out.

“He’s supposed to be my person! You ruin everything!”

She shoved Lestat one last time, and he stumbled back.

“I hate you,” she hissed up at him.

She whirled around, shoving past Louis and into their suite. After a moment he heard her bedroom door slam shut and lock.

He looked up at Lestat, whose face was anguished. Louis felt like he looked.

“Louis—“ Lestat started toward him.

Louis held up his hand, “Just. Just let me handle it.”

Lestat blinked and nodded. Louis turned back into their suite and shut the door.

He went to the door of Claudia's bedroom. There was no chance of her letting him in. He sat down cross-legged in front of it.

He didn’t hear anything. Not crying or yelling or things being thrown. She was completely quiet in there.

Louis sat there for a while, letting her cool down before he spoke.

“I understand why you’re upset,” he said to the door, “I don’t blame you.”

Silence.

“I understand why you don’t like the idea of me marrying your dad. Or anyone marrying your dad. I get it, I really do. And. I am your person,” Louis’s voice cracked, “I was your person first and I’ll always be your person first. No matter what.”

Silence.

Louis sat there for another ten minutes. Another ten after that. He’d sit there as long as it took.

Suddenly the door flung open.

“What about when he dumps you?” Claudia asked.

When. Not if. The idea sent a pang through Louis’s whole body, but he didn’t argue.

“Even then. I’m your person. No matter what.”

She stared down at him, her little face hard. She wanted to believe him, to trust him. Louis hated that she was struggling to do either.

“You’re stupid,” she said, but her voice was more sad than anything.

Louis swallowed hard. He could see why she would think so. There was no way to explain it to her. He couldn’t explain it to himself.

“We’re family Claudia. You and me. No matter what,” he said.

She pressed her mouth into a flat line.

“You know that right? You believe that?”

Claudia ground her jaw. Clenched her fists. Looked down at her feet. But she nodded.

The pain in Louis’s heart eased. He hadn’t lost her. Not completely.

“I hate him though,” Claudia said, a heavy finality in her young voice.

Louis wanted to cry. For her. For Lestat. But again, he didn’t argue with her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. What else could he say?

He got up on his knees. Tentatively, he reached out his arms for her. She didn’t move away. Louis drew Claudia into a hug. He tried not to squeeze her too tight. His Claudia. His family. He couldn’t let her down. Louis had to make sure he didn’t let her down.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” he said, leaning back to look at her.

She tilted her head, “That’s sad. I’m a twelve-year-old.”

Laughter bubbled up in Louis’s chest. He hugged her again, definitely squeezing her too tight.

Louis spent the rest of the night with Claudia watching tv. She didn’t want to talk much. He slept in their suite instead of with Lestat. Louis watched Lestat visibly repress his objections to this arrangement, which was flattering.

Louis passed a fretful night alone. Lestat had assured him he was handling it. Louis forced himself not to google anything. He was beyond relieved he hadn’t heard from any of his family members. It was a good thing they weren’t Lestat de Lioncourt fans.

He should call Grace. He should tell her about Lestat himself.

How long have you known this man Louis? Have you been on a real date? And he was your boss? What's going on?

Louis didn’t call Grace.

In the morning, Claudia wanted to be left alone to read her new book. Louis went across the hall to Lestat’s suite.

All of Lestat’s people were there. Miri the publicist was on the phone again. Lestat was standing in front of the window facing away from everyone. Gabrielle was sitting on the windowsill, feet propped up on a chair.

“I’ll try to quash the talk as best I can. If you’re sure you don’t want to brush it off casually like I suggested,” Miri said.

“I want you on the engagement news, as I’ve said,” Lestat said.

Engagement news? Did people know already?

Miri sighed, “Fine. We’ll loop back before tonight I guess.”

Miri hung up. Lestat turned around to look at Jay.

“What can we make work for tonight?”

Tonight. Louis had forgotten Lestat had a show tonight. Claudia had been so excited to go. Would she even want to now? Louis squeezed the bridge of his nose. He was still exhausted. And he getting a headache.

“Louis?”

Louis looked at Lestat. Lestat’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Louis searchingly.

“Everybody out,” Lestat ordered suddenly.

No one argued.

“We put something together for tonight, but it has to be simple,” Jay called over her shoulder as she left, Roget and the rest of the team following her.

“Fine,” Lestat said.

Gabrielle hopped down from the window sill.

“Oh. Gabrielle, I’m sorry—“ Lestat began.

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand. She paused in front of Louis.

“It’ll be nice to meet you properly. Later,” she smiled at him, and he smiled back weakly.

The door shut behind her. They were alone.

Lestat was on Louis in an instant, gathering him close, cradling his head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. This is all due to my own carelessness,” Lestat said, “I know better. I was deeply distracted. But I know better.”

Louis let himself relax a little. The cool silk of Lestat’s robe felt good on his face. Lestat’s hands swept up and down his back soothingly.

“It will pass. I promise, no one will remember that stupid video. Some other stupid video will come out and they’ll forget,” Lestat said.

Louis wanted to believe that so much. He hated how exposed it made him feel. He tilted his head up.

“What did your publicist mean, about the engagement news?”

“Right, yes. I want to announce it in on stage tonight if that’s alright?”

Louis froze, “Onstage. Tonight?”

“Yes. It seems fitting. It happened here, we announce it here. We could just post about it, or tell the press. But I sort of want to yell it from the rooftops,” Lestat smiled.

By tomorrow, the entire world could know Louis was engaged to Lestat de Lioncourt. And a good part of the world would actually care.

“I don’t have to,” Lestat said, reading something in his face, “We can wait.”

But that didn’t feel any better. That felt like a ticking time bomb. And this was good news, he should be excited for people to know. He should call Grace.

“No, there’s no point waiting. It’ll be…good. Nice.”

Lestat smiled. He was thrilled. That made Louis feel better at least. Lestat pulled him close again.

“Are you hungry?” Lestat murmured.

“No,” Louis couldn’t imagine being hungry right now.

“I’m sorry yesterday was marred by all this,” Lestat said, “I still count it as the best day of my life, apart from Claudia’s birth.”

That made Louis feel warm all over. He leaned back to look at Lestat. Pressed a kiss to lips, light, brief. But Lestat chased his mouth with his own, deepening the kiss, coaxing Louis’s mouth open. All worries fell away. Lestat’s hand slipped under his shirt, and it was warm along the side of his waist.

“Yesterday. When you wore my clothes…” Lestat murmured.

“Yeah. Mine were still wet. Was that okay?” Louis asked.

Lestat smiled, “Yes, Louis. I might double my wardrobe so it can always be so.”

Lestat kissed him again, cradling his head, directing them to the couch. Louis tumbled down to a sitting position. Lestat dropped to his knees in front of him.

“But I think I’ll also buy you new clothes of your own,” Lestat said, sliding Louis’s shirt over his head, “Bespoke. For your body only.”

He grasped Louis by the waist, arching him up to kiss along his stomach. Louis’s eyes drifted closed.

“I’m going to buy you a new car too. Something worthy of you,” Lestat put Louis down and started undoing his pants.

Lestat’s phone started to ring on the coffee table. He ignored it, easing Louis’s pants down his hips. It kept ringing. Then it stopped. Then it started again.

“You should check that,” Louis said reluctantly.

Lestat tossed Louis’s pants to the side, “It’s fine.”

“It could be an emergency.”

Lestat’s jaw tensed. He picked up the phone.

“What?” he barked.

Louis could hear the other side of the conversation. Lestat was supposed to be at the stadium soon.

“Yesterday was a bit hectic. I need a moment. Do it without me.”

It wasn’t possible to do without him. There was press and an issue with the sound and—

“Fine,” Lestat hung up and tossed his phone down. He turned back to Louis, “Quickly then.”

Louis laughed, “I think you have to go.”

Something else occurred to him, “And actually you need to talk to Claudia before you do. You’re supposed to have dinner and she’s supposed to go to the show tonight.”

“I know,” Lestat said, sitting back on his heels, “You know I actually thought she might be pleased about us, despite it all.”

Louis’s heart squeezed in sympathy.

Lestat stood, “I’ll get ready. Then I’ll talk to her.”

Louis stood to, “Okay.”

Lestat snatched Louis against him, kissing him again, hard, quick, leaving them both breathless.

“Mon Dieu,” Lestat groaned as he broke away, “I’m going to cancel the rest of this tour. I’m taking you home. Forever.”

Louis laughed.

Claudia wouldn’t even open her door to Lestat. Louis was sitting on the couch watching him try.

“I’m sorry about dinner. Everything is going wrong and apparently, I am the only one capable of fixing it,” Lestat said to her door. No response.

“I was hoping to announce Louis’s and my engagement tonight onstage. With you.”

No response.

“It’s the black outfit tonight. Your favorite,” Lestat called. No response. He turned to Louis.

“I won’t announce it without both of you there,” Lestat said.

Louis nodded, “We’ll see then.”

Lestat nodded back. He walked over to the touch, tilting Louis’s chin up and kissing him lightly.

“Till later,” Lestat murmured. Then he left.

Louis looked at Claudia's door.

“We staying or goin'?” He called, “Cause if we stayin' I’m gonna take a nap before we start school.”

After a moment her door opened.

“You’re not gonna try and make me go?” She glared at him skeptically.

“No,” he said simply.

She walked into the room slightly.

“Why do want to marry him?” She demanded.

“I love him,” Louis replied.

She wrinkled her nose like that was the most disgusting thing she’d ever heard.

“And I really want to be your stepdad,” he added, “Cause I love you too.”

Her scowl dropped. She blinked at him, her face open and vulnerable.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Louis barely understood how he’d ended up here, but he was so grateful it had led him to her.

He watched her try to hide her emotions. She crossed her arms, “The black outfits are my favorite.”

Louis nodded, “Okay. Do you want to go?”

She shrugged, “I guess.”

Louis smiled.

Backstage seemed busier this time. They went straight into hair and makeup. Claudia’s got to get glitter on her eyes. Her dress was black with dramatic batwing sleeves. She kept twirling them around and whacking into stuff.

“Can you sit down?”

She waved her sleeve in his direction.

“You look gorgeous Claudia,” Lestat said.

Louis turned his head.

Lestat was dressed as a priest. Well, in a manner of speaking. His top was designed to look like a shortened version of a cassock, complete with the white Roman collar. His bottom half was clad in skintight black leather.

Louis took this in slowly, then looked up at Lestat, “Did I ever tell you I was Catholic?”

Lestat threw his head back and laughed.

Much like last time, Claudia and Louis were given a prime view of the stage. Unlike last time, Louis knew his life would change at show's end.

His palms were sweating. He didn’t have to do anything. Lestat would say all that needed said. But still. All those people. Louis was nauseous looking out at them. All those people and the rest of the world.

Still, when the show started, Louis couldn’t help but get lost in it.

Lestat’s energy was boundless. The more he expended the more he seemed to have. The crowd became one being for him, enraptured. He gave, they took. He took, they gave. A closed circuit of scintillating energy.

They all adored him. And he was Louis’s.

Louis had never felt anything like what he felt in that moment. A fierce, consuming possessiveness. Anyone could look at Lestat, in all his stunning perfection, and desire him. But he was Louis’s. No one else’s. Only his.

Soon it was time, and Louis remembered to be afraid.

Lestat was striding off the stage towards them. How could anyone look that good that sweaty? Someone passed him a towel, and he wiped his forehead.

“Are you ready?” Lestat asked Claudia. She rolled her eyes.

“Assuming that’s a yes. Let’s go,” Lestat grabbed Claudia’s hand. She snatched it away. She started to walk onto the stage without him. Louis expected Lestat to look upset. But he had a rueful smile on his face.

He turned to Louis, wrapped an arm around his waist, and kissed him quick and hard. His smile was blinding when he released him.

Lestat caught up to Claudia in a few strides. They reached the center of the stage. A standing mic was waiting. The Lioncourts entered the spotlight.

“London,” Lestat boomed. The stadium roared back.

“Before we take our leave,” Lestat’s said, “I wanted to say a word of thanks to this city. For it was here that the love of my life agreed to marry me.”

The stadium erupted into cheers. Louis was lightheaded. He’d done it. It was out in the world.

Then Lestat turned and made direct eye contact with him. Louis lost his breath.

“Louis,” he said into the microphone, his voice dark, “My beating heart. I didn’t know it, but every song of beauty, or grace, or passion. Every word of love I’ve ever written. It has all been for you. It will always be for you.”

Louis didn’t know if the roaring came from the crowd or within his own head. He watched Lestat and Claudia at a great remove, outside of his body. They took their graceful bows. They waved. Lestat touched grasping hands. They bounded off the stage together, both making for him, Lestat wrapping him in a hug.

Louis felt as if had taken his leave of reality, and passed fully into dreams.

Chapter 18: only the candlestick on the ground

Chapter Text

When Louis woke up the next morning, he had forty-two missed calls, thirteen voicemails, and two hundred and six unread texts.

He lay in bed, scrolling through the messages. It seemed like every single person he’d ever met was hitting him up. A bunch of the numbers weren’t even saved. All of his cousins, aunts, and uncles. People from high school, from college, from his teaching days. The line cook at the restaurant he’d worked at.

Paul. Grace. And his mother. So much from his mother. He ignored those.

He read Grace’s texts.

Please call me Louis. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening with you. We’ve barely talked in months and now you're all over the internet.

Louis was flooded with guilt. He should have called her before last night. But he didn’t want her interrogation, or her inevitable concern.

“What is it?” Lestat shifted on the pillow to look at him, his eyes blinking open.

“Everybody and they mama has something to say to me now apparently,” Louis said, tossing his phone on the nightstand.

“Mmmm,” Lestat moved his head to rest Louis’s shoulder, “Fame and wealth have a curious effect on people.”

Louis rested his head on Lestat’s. He sighed.

“My sister though…” Louis began.

“Yes?” Lestat ran his fingers lightly up Louis’s arm.

“In all those messages she’s the only one actually askin’ about me.”

“Have you spoken to her?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Lestat asked.

“I can just hear her,” Louis said, “What are you thinking Louis? You barely know this guy. He’s your boss. He has a child. And on and on.”

Lestat was silent for a moment, “And you’re worried she’s right?”

“What? No,” Louis shifted to his side to face Lestat, “No. I just know I wouldn’t…be able to explain. Not in a way she would get.”

Lestat nodded, but his eyes were distant.

“What did Gabrielle think?” Louis asked.

“Oh, Gabrielle is used to my passions,” Lestat said, smiling, “Of which you are the greatest.”

Louis smiled back, “And the rest of your family? Have they reached out?”

Lestat looked up at the ceiling, “Gabrielle, Claudia, and yourself are the whole of my family. My father is dead and my brothers might as well be.”

Lestat’s voice was flat. Louis rested a comforting hand on his stomach, loving the feel of his taut skin on his palm, being able to feel him breathe. He wanted to know everything about him. He wanted to tell him everything.

“I lost my father too. I was in high school,” Louis said.

“Really?” Lestat looked over at him.

“Yeah. It was a heart attack. Sudden. Everyone thought he was perfectly healthy.”

Lestat’s face softened, “That’s terrible. I hate that you had to endure that.”

Louis smiled softly, “I got through it. I had Grace and Paul. Had to be a good big brother for them.”

“You don’t realize how exceptional you are for believing so,” Lestat said, stroking his cheek briefly.

“How did you lose your father?” Louis asked, brushing Lestat’s hair away from his face.

Lestat looked at the ceiling again, “Oh we lost him long before he died. He walked out when I was what? Eleven or so. He didn’t keel over until I was eighteen, but I heard nothing from him in the interim. Which was a blessing really. He wasn’t a pleasant man to be around.”

Louis continued to stroke Lestat’s hair, hoping he would continue. When he didn’t, Louis probed gently, “What was it like after he left?”

Lestat waved his hand, “Oh you know. Gabrielle working herself to the bone to support three growing sons. My older brothers never for a moment appreciating her effort, spending their time terrorizing the town, me, stray dogs. For my part, I was plotting to get out of there like any good disaffected youth.”

Louis could imagine it easily. Lestat, young, furious, working on cars so his mom had a way to get to work. Wanting out so bad he didn’t even finish high school. It must have been obvious how special he was even then.

“You know Gabrielle saved up the money I needed to leave,” Lestat said, “She gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday. Told me to go and never look back.”

“She’s an amazing person,” Louis said sincerely.

“Yes. She is. She wandered off, but you can get to know her better soon,” Lestat turned on his side, “When should I meet your mother?”

Louis actually physically recoiled at the idea.

“What? Older women love me,” Lestat protested.

“Not that older woman,” Louis shook his head vigorously, “Not Florence du Lac. She would hate you before you even opened your mouth to say bonjour.”

“Why?”

Louis almost laughed, “Let’s see,” he started to count off on his fingers, “You’re a man. A white man. Who makes sacrilegious devil music. Who had a child out of wedlock. Who’s been divorced. Who dresses in a way she likes to call effeminate—“

“Alright, I see your point,” Lestat said, “But the plan is just for me to never meet her?”

“Honestly, yeah. I barely talk to her myself,” Louis said.

“What about your siblings?”

“Paul would have the same objections to you Mama would have. Though I can probably talk him around in a decade or so,” Louis rubbed his forehead, “Grace…yeah. She’d probably like to meet you.”

“Then let’s do it,” Lestat sat up, “I can fly her out. Or we can go to her during the break before the second leg.”

“Maybe. Yeah, I’ll think about it. Ask her,” Louis said. He just had to actually call her back.

Lestat kissed his temple then climbed out of bed, walking to the bathroom.

Louis texted Grace. I’m so sorry, things have been crazy. Have a flight. Will talk soon.

Louis put on his sweats and went to get Claudia up and order breakfast. Today they were leaving London for Amsterdam.

Lestat had slept in Louis’s room in the suite, and he’d had Roget cancel all his rooms for the rest of the tour. The three of them would be staying in one family suite from now on.

Which would be good. Claudia needed to get used to them being together. They needed to get used to being a family. It’d be good. Louis hoped it would be good.

She was already awake, scrolling on her phone in bed.

“I thought we agreed you’d charge your electronics in the living room overnight,” Louis said.

“Is it true you come from an…illustrious New Orleans family? And what does illustrious mean?”

“Well known and respected. What are you reading?” Louis reached for her phone. She snatched her hand away.

“I’ll link you, jeez,” she said, tapping on her screen. Louis’s phone went off in his pocket.

“Get up and get dressed please miss ma’am,” Louis said, turning to leave her room.

“Is your family illustrious?” She called after him.

“Kinda,” he called back.

It was a link to an article in Vogue. “Who is Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt’s New Fiancé?

Louis scanned the article, unease building. Eleven years his junior….graduate of UC Berkeley…employee of Lioncourt’s…comes from a wealthy, illustrious New Orleans family, with a long history in the city…

They had a picture of him and Lestat leaving the concert last night, Claudia climbing in the car ahead of them. Louis hadn’t even noticed anyone with a camera.

He walked back into their bedroom. Lestat had just gotten out of the shower, his hair still damp, towel around his waist. Louis walked over to him. Became distracted by a drop of water making its way down his back. He kissed the back of his neck. Lestat hummed in pleasure.

Louis rested his hands on Lestat’s waist, and his forehead on his back. His skin was cool from the shower. Louis leaned his weight against him and took a deep breath.

“Everything alright?“ Lestat asked.

“Yeah. There’s just an article about me already. And they have a picture of us from last night.”

“Yes, that will happen,” Lestat said, leaning forward to open a drawer.

“Yeah…” It would happen. It would keep happening.

Claudia read during the whole of breakfast, only speaking to Louis when she did speak. Lestat acted like that was perfectly normal. For them, it sort of was. Only lately had they begun to actually talk again. The engagement had thrown a wrench in that. Louis wasn't sure how to fix it just yet.

The lead security guard came towards the end of the meal to tell them they’d have to leave the hotel through an alternate route. The front of the hotel was mobbed with people.

“We managed to get the car in the back alley and a path cleared, but there’s more people heading back there. We should leave soon.”

“Fine,” Lestat sighed, rising. Claudia hopped up.

“We should have moved hotels after that goddamn video,” Lestat said to the security guard, “Why did no one suggest that?”

“We weren’t looped in on that until later—“

“Alright. Fine. Just get us out of here,” Lestat said.

The guard led them through the back hallways of the hotel. Apparently, the lobby was crowded too. They passed through the kitchen, some members of the staff craning their necks to get a glimpse of Lestat.

Louis heard them before he saw them. Screaming.

He grabbed Claudia’s hand tight in his own. He tugged her into his side.

“It’ll be fine Louis,” she said, her tone patronizing. That made him smile a little. Still.

“Just don’t let go,” he said.

Lestat turned around. He glanced at their clasped hands.

“You two ahead of me,” he said, moving to the side and ushering them forward.

One of the guards opened the door.

What must be hundreds of people surged forward, screaming incoherently. Two guards plunged into the fray, clearing a path.

Louis couldn’t even make out individual faces, just a mass of people, hundreds of arms reaching in their direction. Phones held up, the flash of cameras.

The guard opened the SUV door.

“Okay let’s go,” the security lead said. He put a hand on Louis’s shoulder, and they were moving. Louis clutched Claudia’s hand. It was only a few feet.

Someone lunged forward, or tripped, near Claudia, and Louis’s other arm shot out, “Back the f*ck up,” Louis shouted, his hand connecting with a shoulder.

“Whoa we got this,” the guard shifted in front of Louis, “Don’t worry.”

They were at the car. Louis hovered protectively over Claudia until she was inside. He hurried in after her. The door slammed shut, and the guards went back for Lestat.

Louis was out of breath. Claudia was fine. She was already digging her phone out of her pocket.

“How many times has this happened to you guys?" Louis asked.

She shrugged, “I dunno. It just happens sometimes.”

Jesus.

Louis watched out the window as the process was repeated with Lestat. He strode through the crowd like he was doing it for pleasure. He smiled at them. He even waved. When he climbed into the SUV he clapped his hands, “Let’s be off!”

It took a long time to leave. Police had been called to clear the alley of people so they could drive out. Louis just looked on in silence. This was his life now.

The mob made them arrive later to the plane than everyone else. When the three of them boarded, everyone looked up.

Roget and Jay and the rest of the business team glanced away quickly, their faces neutral. But the bands’ looks lingered. Alex smiled with half his mouth and turned to whisper something to Cookie.

Louis brushed it off. That was to be expected. He’d never liked them anyway.

He automatically started to walk to the back, where Claudia was already headed, but Lestat slipped a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit up here,” he said.

“We like to do English class on flights,” Louis said, slipping out of his grasp.

“Then I’ll join you when I’m done here,” Lestat said. Louis nodded.

Louis got Claudia started on some vocab flashcards on her iPad.

“Half of these don’t even sound like real words. Did you make these up?”

“Yes,” Louis said, pulling out his laptop.

“So are you like, still the nanny?”

Louis looked up. Alex was leaning over the side of the couch, eyebrows raised in question.

That was actually a good question. He and Lestat hadn’t talked about Louis’s employment now that they were getting married. But that was none of Alex’s damn business.

“Why?” Louis asked him.

“Just curious. Now that you’re with the big boss over there, you never have to work a day in your life.”

Louis didn’t like Alex’s grin, or the implication in his words, or Cookie and Larry’s amused faces as they looked on.

“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” Louis said.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, a disbelieving smile coming to his face. He raised his hands, “Okay dude.”

He turned back to the rest of the band.

They didn’t take him and Lestat seriously, Louis realized. They wouldn’t be acting like that if they did. They’d seen people come and go. They’d seen a wife come and go.

“You’re still gonna teach me right?” Claudia asked him.

Louis decided then that he actually hated the band.

“Course honey,” he said.

After lunch, Claudia fell asleep watching tv on her iPad. Lestat was still talking to the team up front. Louis’s phone started buzzing. It was his mother. Again. He’d been rejecting her calls all morning. He did it one more time.

This time she immediately called back. Rejected. And she called again.

He sighed. It was unlikely that he could actually avoid this conversation forever. Maybe he should rip off the bandaid.

When Louis stood up, Cookie asked, “Hey Louis, how old are you? Just wondering.”

“Google it. They writing about me plenty these days,” he said, heading into the bedroom.

His mother had hung up and started calling again by the time he’d shut the door and he answered.

“Hello,” he said.

“ Hello. Hello he says.”

Louis sighed.

“What kind of son doesn’t tell his mother he is engaged? To a celebrity no less! Knowing the kind of mess that would make for her.”

“I honestly didn’t think you want to know,” Louis said.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because I’m engaged to a man mama,” Louis said, “A concept you have historically had some trouble with.”

“Regardless of my feelings about your lifestyle, you should have told me! Do you have any idea what I have been dealing with these past few days?”

“The engagement was announced last night so.”

“Don’t nitpick! Do you know how embarrassing it is to have people coming up to me asking about you and not being able to answer? Because my eldest son didn’t bother to tell me he was getting married!”

“I’m sure it is a trial,” Louis said.

“And now the sarcasm!”

“Mama, what do you need?” How could he bring this conversation to an end?

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“What do you need? Why did you call me?”

“I called you to ask what’s going on!”

“Okay. I’m engaged. His name is Lestat. He’s from France but lives in Los Angeles. He’s a musician. He has a daughter. Her name is Claudia. She’s twelve. He’s thirty-six. I met him at work. That good? Satisfactory?”

“You are being flippant with me Louis and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Is there some other information I can provide?”

She huffed.

“No? Then it was nice speaking with you. Your congratulations are much appreciated.”

Louis hung up. He sat down on the bed. That had gone…exactly as expected. He was surprised he could still be disappointed. It wasn't like she'd ever been the kind of mother who would support him, or be happy for him. He was missing something he'd never had.

The door opened. It was Lestat.

“Is everything alright?”

Louis smiled bitterly, “Everything is wonderful. I just spoke to my mother.”

“Ah. I gather it didn’t go well,” Lestat shut the door behind him and came to sit next to Louis on the bed.

“It went normal,” Louis rubbed his eye, “No better, no worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Lestat put an arm around his shoulder.

Louis sighed, “You know, it’s funny. If you weren’t famous? She wouldn’t give a f*ck. She’d tell me to keep my lifestyle to myself. But you are, so she needs to save face.”

Louis wondered how she'd spin it to her social circle. Maybe that he and Lestat were just very good friends.

Lestat squeezed his arm, “What can I do? How can I make it better for you?”

Louis smiled, some of the frustration leaving him, “Nothin’. It’s good.”

“Are you sure?” Lestat leaned forward to peer in Louis’s face, “I could arrange to have her house covered in pride flags while she sleeps.”

Louis laughed, “No. But save that idea for later.”

“Alright,” Lestat pulled Louis to him and kissed his temple. Louis closed his eyes and leaned against him. None of the rest of it mattered really. Not his mama, not the band, not the articles, or the crowds. This is what mattered. His man.

Lestat kissed his temple again. Then behind his ear. Then he shifted so he could kiss down his neck. He nipped lightly at his earlobe.

“For our honeymoon, I am going to lock you in a tower for a month,” Lestat murmured, slipping his hand between Louis’s legs.

Louis shifted away, “Everybody’s out there.”

“That doesn’t seem to be lessening your ardor,” Lestat said, tugging him close again.

“They’ll know,” Louis said, standing up and catching his breath.

Lestat smiled, “You look gorgeous when you want me.”

“Okay,” Louis pressed his lips together and walked to the door.

“Leaving right away? Sure you don’t need a moment?”

“Bye,” Louis said and left the bedroom.

Armand was in the hotel lobby in Amsterdam.

“You didn’t even ask for my blessing,” he said, pushing off a column and walking towards Lestat.

“Your blessing would have made me less likely to propose,” Lestat said.

Armand walked past Lestat and up to Louis. He picked up his hand and examined his ring. He tutted, “No gemstones. He didn’t even engrave it for you.”

“Why are you here Armand?” Lestat asked testily.

“To congratulate you, of course,” Armand released Louis’s hand slowly. He turned to Lestat.

“Forgive me for not believing you,” Lestat said.

“You’re forgiven,” Armand turned back to Louis, “You see how he treats me? Oldest friend in the world and I find out he got engaged from TMZ.”

“I texted you,” Lestat said.

“Afterward. You texted me afterward. Unforgivably rude.”

“I'm rude," Lestat turned to Louis, "Once he stapled a piece of paper to my forehead while I was sleeping."

Louis looked up at Armand, eyes wide.

Armand shrugged, “He deserved it.”

“It was a receipt for a dinner I forgot to pay him back for,” Lestat added.

“As I said, you deserved it.”

But Armand seemed genuine in his wish to congratulate them. He insisted on taking them out for dinner that night to celebrate.

“I’d love to,” Louis said.

“Fine,” Lestat said flatly. Armand departed.

As the three of them rode the elevator to the suite, Louis said, “Can I ask…what’s your deal with Armand?”

Lestat turned to him, “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes it seems like you don’t even like him,” Louis said.

“I don’t really. He’s not overly likable.”

He was extremely likable in Louis’s opinion, “Then why are you friends with him?”

“Friends isn’t the right word. He's more like a fixture in my life.”

The elevator opened, and they walked down the hall to their suite. Claudia immediately flopped on the couch and continued watching videos on her phone.

“Is he like a brother to you?” Louis asked.

Lestat laughed, “Dear god no.”

“Then I don’t get it,” Louis said.

“There’s nothing to get. He’ll be around forever, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I don’t like him.”

Louis shook his head and laughed.

Lestat left while Louis got Claudia settled. They did a little bit more schoolwork. He was thinking about bringing up putting her in school again to Lestat when they got back to LA. Maybe he should have her take some assessments, see where she was, if there were any areas he was weak on teaching. He didn't want her to be behind if she did end up in school again.

Someone started knocking hard on their suite’s door, “Lestat!”

It was a female voice, vaguely familiar, and angry.

“It’s Antoinette,” Claudia said from the couch. Louis turned to look at her. She was sitting up and glaring at the door.

“Go in your room. I’ll get rid of her,” he said.

“Lestat!” She kept banging. Louis pulled out his phone and called the security lead.

“Hey, Lestat’s ex-wife is here, and she’s being…belligerent. Could you send someone? Thank you.”

“You can’t think I’m gonna let you get away with a stunt like this Lestat! You’re embarrassing me and yourself with that little boy toy of yours!”

In a surge of anger, Louis crossed the room and yanked the door open.

“He’s not here,” Louis said flatly.

Antoinette reared back, her face contorting in anger. But then she collected herself, brushing a hair out of her face, “So. He’s playing house with you.”

“I’ve called our security. They’ll be up soon.”

Her smile was brittle, “You can’t really believe—”

“I’m going to close the door now. Please don’t start up all that noise again.”

Her smile dropped, “A word of advice, you shouldn’t get to—”

“I’m good,” Louis started to swing the door shut.

“Has he told you about Nicki?”

Louis paused for an instant. Nicki. He’d heard mentions of a Nicki. Why was Antoinette saying that like it was a trump card?

He swung the door the rest of the way shut.

“He hasn’t has he?” She called from the other side, “Oh, you are going to wish you heard my advice!”

Louis heard the security guard arrive and start to speak to Antoinette, asking her to leave. Louis walked slowly towards Claudia’s door to tell her everything was fine now.

Who was Nicki?

Chapter 19: an affair of the actual world

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to go,” Claudia whined, eyes on the tv.

“It’ll be nice,” Louis said, walking out of the bedroom, “Come on, get dressed.”

“It’ll be boring,” she said,

“Well I’m not comfortable leaving you here by yourself,” Louis said.

“I’m not by myself,” she protested, “There’s a security guard outside!”

That was irrefutable. Louis had asked for him to stick around in case Antoinette decided to come back. He’d apologized profusely for letting her get up here in the first place. Someone must have told her where they were staying, and the room number.

“I don’t know…” Louis said. She was twelve, a perfectly fine age to be alone for a few hours, and there was a guy with a stun gun standing outside. Still…

“I’m tired,” she said, flopping down on her back, “I just want to watch tv and eat snacks.”

She had fallen asleep on the plane today.

“Okay. Fine. But if I call or text you better answer immediately. And no leaving this room.”

“I don’t want to leave this room. That’s the whole point,” she said.

“Just say thank you, Louis,” he said, turning to go back into the bedroom to finish getting ready. She did not thank him.

Louis didn’t know what to wear, or how nice this restaurant would be. He could barely focus on that anyway.

You are going to wish you heard my advice.

Lestat arrived back too late for them to have any real conversation before they were supposed to meet Armand at the restaurant. Did Armand know who Nicki was? Surely he did.

“Antoinette showed up at the hotel today,” Louis said in the car on the way there.

Lestat heaved a sigh, “I know. I can’t apologize enough. It’s irritating to have one of your mistakes embodied. Walking around annoying people.”

Why had Lestat married her? Who was Nicki?

The restaurant was all low lighting, candles on every table, silky golden wallpaper, and intimate little corners. Armand ordered them a wine older than they were. He propped his head on his hands, his eyes shifting between Louis and Lestat.

“I’m assuming the wedding will be soon,” Armand said.

“We haven’t talked about it yet, actually,” Louis said. Why would he assume that?

“Hmm. Lestat you should marry him quickly before he comes to his senses,” Armand said.

“How’s Molloy, Armand? Did he dump you again?” Lestat asked casually.

“Daniel is fine,” Armand said, just as casually, “He’s looking forward to seeing your show in Paris.”

“Interesting. I did not invite him to my show in Paris,” Lestat said.

“Why don’t you like Daniel?” Louis nudged Lestat with his elbow.

“I don’t feel anything about Daniel,” Lestat said, “He doesn’t like me.”

“Why?” Louis asked.

“Daniel thinks he’s obnoxious,” Armand supplied helpfully.

“Ah,” Louis nodded.

“What did you mean “Ah,” Lestat turned to Louis, “That sounded entirely to understanding.”

Louis laughed, “You have a very strong personality.”

“Anyone worth talking to has a strong personality,” Lestat said.

“Well I’m looking forward to meeting Daniel,” Louis said to Armand.

“Yes,” Armand said musingly, “He’ll like you.”

The first course came. Louis listened to Armand and Lestat talk to each other with their strange barbed affection.

“Have you any projects coming up? Or are planning on trailing me all over the continent?” Lestat asked.

“I would, but I start shooting the period piece in August.”

“Oh, what’s it about?” Louis asked.

“Love,” Armand smiled, “Like most things.”

Louis smiled back.

Lestat groaned, “You are so utterly transparent. Stop attempting to seduce my fiance.”

“Lestat, I haven’t made an honest attempt to seduce your fiance out of my great love for you. If I had, we might not be celebrating your engagement right now.”

“You know,” Lestat turned to Louis, “He’s always had a taste for people I like. It’s practically his whole sexuality.”

“That doesn’t always hold true. I hated Antoinette. And Nicolas.”

Nicolas. Nicki? Louis had seen a Nicolas mentioned in headlines about Lestat months ago. He hadn’t remembered until now.

“Who’s Nicolas?” Louis asked.

Lestat shot Armand a look so brief Louis almost missed it, and he couldn’t interpret its meaning.

“An ex of mine,” Lestat said, his voice casual.

“Wait…did people call him Nicki?” Louis said, trying to make it sound like the idea just occurred to him.

“Yes,” Armand said, “Which I always thought was a rather childish nickname.”

“Your ex-wife mentioned her when she was ranting today,” Louis said.

Lestat took a drink of his wine, “Oh yes. They never got on.”

“They met? You’re still friends with him?” Louis asked.

“Somewhat,” Lestat said, “We’re both from Auvergne. Ran in the same circles in Paris. So we still know the same people.”

But Lestat lived in LA now. Had for years.

“Is he coming to the Paris show? I remember Roget mentioning a Nicki and you said something about Paris.”

“Mhmmm. He wanted tickets. I gave him some for Paris. Who is doing the score for this period piece Armand?”

Louis allowed Lestat to move the conversation along. Nicki was an ex. An ex from the same town. How long had they known each other?

On the car ride back to the hotel, Lestat pulled Louis against him, an arm around his shoulder. Louis played with the fingers of his other hand.

“You know today. With Antoinette. She asked me, “Did he tell you about Nicki?” Louis said, “Like it was a big deal or something.”

Lestat sighed, “She’s just trying to stir up trouble.”

Louis looked up at him, “Why would that stir up trouble?”

Lestat looked out the window, “I slept with Nicki when I was married to Antoinette. Among other people. She was convinced Nicki was the reason for our breakup, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. She was the reason. Well, and me realizing I didn’t actually like her.”

Louis shifted away slightly to look more fully at Lestat’s face, “You cheated on her?”

He might have known that, might have read about it online. It was different to hear about it now obviously, now that Lestat was his.

“Oh, believe me, the infidelity was mutual,” Lestat said. That didn’t make Louis feel any better.

“Why did she think Nicki was the reason you broke up?”

“I don’t know,” Lestat waved a hand, “She wanted to blame someone other than herself I suppose.”

Lestat drew Louis back against his body. Louis let him, resting his head on his shoulder.

“How long have you known him?” Louis asked.

Lestat’s answer was reluctant, “Since secondary school. Fifteen or so.”

Louis did the math in his head. Lestat had known Nicki for twenty-one years. Almost as long as Louis had been alive.

“That’s a long time,” Louis said softly, “How long were you together.”

It took Lestat even longer to answer this time, “Six years.”

Six years.

“Why’d you break up?” Louis asked.

Lestat sighed, “Claudia was born. And he isn’t the kind of person you bring around a baby.”

“Why not?”

“He’s…moody. And overly indulgent with certain substances.”

“So you broke up with him because you felt like you had to. For Claudia?”

Lestat looked down at him, “I wanted to by that point. Claudia gave me the push I needed to untangle myself from that whole situation.”

“So it wasn’t a good relationship?”

Lestat laughed, “No it was not.”

“Then why are you still friends?” Louis asked.

Lestat was silent for a moment, “Long familiarity I suppose.”

That didn’t make Louis feel any better either. He hated to think it, but he could understand why Antoinette would fixate on Nicolas over any other of Lestat’s…affair partners. Their history alone made him more of a threat.

Louis was quiet for a while, wondering if he should even ask. But he couldn't let it go, "Can he not come to the Paris show? It just makes me uncomfortable."

Lestat seemed surprised, but his answer was immediate, "Sure. I'll have Roget cancel on him."

Louis was flooded with relief, "Thank you. I'm sorry. I just..."

"It's perfectly alright," Lestat said, "I understand."

“And can I ask...what made you cheat?” Louis said. The way frankness with which he had admitted it. That he still knew Nicki afterward. That he had cheated at all. All of this was disturbing to Louis.

“Misery,” Lestat said, “Revenge even.”

“Why did you even marry her?” Louis asked.

“Loneliness,” Lestat said simply. Louis looked up at him again.

“I was lonely, and she was always around. She made sure of it. And she had fame and success of her own, so I felt less like she was angling for something. We had similar childhoods. Privitation and the like. For a moment I felt…less alone. Which, of course, didn’t last. Not at all.”

His voice had gone distant. Louis squeezed his hand.

Lestat turned to him, “You know, since the moment you arrived in my life I was too consumed with thoughts of you to feel lonely for even a second.”

Louis’s face must have been disbelieving, because Lestat put his mouth by his ear and murmured, “It’s true. Who can remember to feel lonely when you are falling desperately in love?”

Louis’s heart swelled almost painfully.

When they got back to the hotel Louis got Claudia to head to bed, making her leave her electronics in the living room. When Lestat said goodnight, she ignored him.

Lestat looked at her bedroom door for a long moment.

“She’ll come around,” Louis said.

Lestat looked over at him, “Do you remember when you told me she was lonely?”

Louis nodded. Of course he did. It was the reason they were all on this tour together.

“I had never felt such acute failure in my life,” Lestat said, “I don’t want her to suffer what I’ve suffered.”

Louis was overwhelmed with sympathy. He walked over to him, “Things will get better. You just have to prove to her she can trust you again.”

Lestat took his hand and walked them toward the bedroom, “As I always say, you’re the expert.”

Lestat shut the bedroom door behind them.

“Speaking of my expertise. I am still technically your employee. We haven’t talked about that.”

“True,” Lestat put his hands on Louis’s waist and started walking him backward toward the bed, “Obviously you no longer have to work if you don’t want to.”

Louis stopped their movement, “What do you mean? Cause I want to teach Claudia,” And she wouldn't take someone else teaching her well at all.

“Of course. Whatever you would like,” Lestat bent his head to kiss his collarbone.

“Okay,” Louis backed up, “But the question is, is it appropriate for me to still be employed by you? Drawing a salary.”

“I don’t know what’s appropriate. Or care frankly. You can have it any way you like,” Lestat said, drawing him close again.

Louis didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like the idea of having no income, just living off Lestat’s money. But he was technically already living off Lestat’s money, and it felt strange to be employed by his fiance.

“I’ll think about it,” Louis said.

“Mhhmm,” Lestat undid the button of Louis’s pants.

While Lestat was sleeping, Louis googled “Lestat de Lioncourt Nicolas”

There was plenty to read.

Full name Nicolas de Lenfent. He had his own Wikipedia page. He was a violinist in the Orchestre de Paris. There were lots of videos of him playing on Youtube.

He was gorgeous. Wavy black hair, long past his shoulders. Beautiful dark eyes. There were lots of paparazzi photos of him and a younger Lestat. In Los Angeles. In Paris. In New York. Photos of them on red carpets, at parties, even photoshoots. They looked good together. Their long hair in contrasting dark and light. Their obvious ease with one another.

Louis did not sleep well.

The next few weeks fell into a routine. Louis woke up next to Lestat and was vaguely surprised every time. There he was, right beside him. Lestat. Golden and beautiful. Langourus and strong. And Lestat would kiss him, and say good morning, mon cher. And they would linger next to one another, hands roaming, talking quietly, slowly waking together.

And then they got up, and Louis saw to Claudia, and ordered breakfast. And Claudia, though not particularly warm towards her father, stopped actively shutting him out. It made Louis hopeful.

Then Lestat would sometimes rest to avoid burnout, but he usually left. Louis and Claudia would do schoolwork, eat lunch, and explore the city they were in. Copenhagen. Stockholm. Berlin. Warsaw. Cologne. Milan. Rome. Barcelona.

They collected postcards and visited historical sights, Louis using every teaching moment he could.

Then at night, they ate together again, the three of them. Lestat could sometimes draw Claudia out by talking about the show. Asking her opinion on his costumes or the setlist. And she always loved going, when she was allowed.

And then at night, almost invariably, whether he’d had a show or not, whether he was tired or not, Lestat made love to Louis. It was stunning to Louis how it never lost that edge of desperation. How every time it was like Lestat was starving. Like he’d been denied for years. Even during the day, Lestat was always reaching for him, pressing fleeting kisses to his face, his hands, his throat. Hugging him, threading their fingers together, tucking an arm around his waist.

He brought Louis with him into his frenzy. Louis couldn’t get enough of his touch, or of touching him. His body sought Lestat out automatically, drawing close to him without even thinking, anticipating the feel of his arms, his fingers, his lips.

Louis felt filled to the brim with love. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He thought constantly about what Lestat said the day he proposed. You can’t know what it is to live for thirty-six years thinking you were complete, only to meet someone and know instantly that you’d been living half a life without them. But Louis did know. Half a life was the perfect description. Who had he been before Claudia and Lestat? How had he existed without his family?

In Copenhagen, he finally called Grace.

She sighed when she’d picked up, “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t have an excuse except that it’s been crazy.”

“Oh I know,” she said, “I get a new person every day telling me how crazy it is. Every day someone sends me a new picture of you hugged up with that fiance of yours.”

Louis winced. He tried not to go online, but he knew there were pictures. He saw the cell phones pointed in their direction. The paparazzi lurking.

“You look happy in the pictures,” Grace said.

“I am happy.”

“I wish you would’ve let me be happy with you. For you,” Grace said.

Louis closed his eyes, guilt washing over him, “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this Louis? Why did you take so long to call me?”

“I just…I thought you might disapprove,” Louis said.

“Why?”

“Well, Grace honestly—you’ve been the most accepting of me and I appreciate that. But you still live at home with Mama and still go to church with her every Sunday. And I know you and I know you’d have a million questions, and I just. I know it’s crazy. I didn’t need anyone telling me so.”

She was quiet for a long minute, “It is crazy Louis. But I would’ve tried to understand. And listen. I am trying.”

“I know. I know,” Louis said.

“I’d like to meet him,” she said, “And his daughter.”

“You will. He really wants to meet you. And Claudia, she’s amazing. You’ll love her.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Louis felt uneasy when he hung up with Grace. He wanted Lestat and Claudia to meet her. But it felt, in some way, like his past intruding on his future.

They were in Paris.

There would be two shows there before they moved on to Nice. Then after Nice, it was back to the States. They didn’t have to stay at a hotel, because Lestat had a flat in Paris. It was beautiful, not unlike the house in LA, just older. More antiques and fine art. It was big, but so crammed full of Lestat’s treasures that it felt like an overstuffed jewelry box.

“I got this right after my second album took off. Obscenely expensive, which delighted me at the time,” Lestat pointed to a framed original poster for the Moulin Rouge by Toulouse Lautrec hanging over the bed.

There was a knock at the door. They went to see who it was.

“Your security guard wouldn’t let me in even though I have a key,” Armand said, striding past Lestat and into the apartment. Someone followed him in. It was his boyfriend Daniel.

Lestat leaned his head out and spoke to the guard, “Next time feel free to throw him out entirely.”

“Hi, I’m Louis. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Louis held his hand out to Daniel.

“Daniel Molloy,” his handshake was firm.

“Molloy,” Lestat said shortly as he walked past them and after Armand.

“Lioncourt,” Daniel said, just as curtly.

“Come in,” Louis gestured, “I just got here myself but I’m sure there’s something I could get you if you’re hungry or thirsty.”

“I’m good,” Daniel said, walking after Louis and into the living room. Lestat and Armand were already in the kitchen. Lestat was opening a bottle of wine.

Louis sat on the couch, and Daniel took a side chair. He sat down, wide-legged, leaning forward, propping his elbows on his knees, his gaze on the kitchen.

“So what do you do?” Louis asked.

Daniel flicked his eyes back to him, “I’m a journalist.”

“Oh wow. What kind of journalism?”

“Investigative,” Daniel said.

“Wow. Intense,” Louis said.

“It can be,” Daniel said, looking away again.

Louis could tell Daniel didn’t really feel like talking. He was clearly watching Armand and clearly wanted to get out of here. It was funny, Louis had never thought about it, but if he had to imagine a boyfriend for Armand, they wouldn’t have been anything like Daniel. They would’ve been sophisticated and charming like Armand. Daniel was dressed in simple, utilitarian clothes. Black T-shirt, black jeans, heavy black boots despite it being summer. His curly hair was wild and unkempt. His glasses sat crookedly on his nose. And he seemed completely uninterested in being charming.

“Ever investigated a murder?” Louis asked, because why not? Maybe Daniel would actually have something to say about that.

Daniel looked back over at him, his eyebrows raising slightly, “Yeah.”

“You figure out who did it?” Louis asked, tilting his head.

“No,” Daniel said, half his mouth curling in a smile, “But I got a pretty long way towards proving who didn’t do it.”

“That’s something I suppose,” Louis said. Daniel gave a short, surprised laugh.

“Louis!” Claudia ran into the living room, “The wifi isn’t working!”

Louis pressed a hand to his chest, “Dear Lord Claudia I thought something was wrong.”

“There is! The wifi isn’t working!”

“Use your data or your hotspot,” Louis said.

“I wanted to watch Netflix on the big tv,” she whined.

“I truly think you will live if that doesn’t happen exactly at this moment,” Louis said.

She huffed and marched back to her bedroom.

“She ran out here like someone had been shot,” Daniel said.

“For Claudia loss of internet access is equivalent to grievous bodily harm,” Louis said.

Daniel smiled and leaned back in his chair, “So what do you do?”

Louis still hadn’t figured out a way to answer that question that didn’t make him uncomfortable. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to keep working for Lestat.

“I teach Claudia now. But before that, I taught public school.”

“Really? What grade?”

“High school English. Juniors for most of my time there.”

“Did you like it?” Daniel asked.

“I loved it,” Louis said, “I would’ve done it forever if I hadn’t gotten laid off.”

“Wow. You must have loved it. Teaching these days is rough.”

“No rougher than hunting for murderers,” Louis said.

Daniel smiled, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

It turned out Daniel could be charming. He was smart and sharp-witted, and his intense face changed completely when he smiled. Became boyishly handsome. They exchanged numbers so Daniel could send him an article when he published it.

“Are you actually coming to the show?” Louis asked.

“I dunno,” Daniel said.

“You should,” Louis encouraged. He’d like to see him again. He could see them becoming friends.

“Your fiance doesn’t exactly make my kind of music,” Daniel said.

“Still, you should see him perform. He’s incredible. I’d barely heard his stuff before and he blew me away,” Louis said.

“I think the whole being in love thing might have something to do with that,” Daniel said, taking a drink of his wine.

Louis laughed, “Maybe.”

“Love is blind yadda yadda,” Daniel said.

“I don’t think you have to be blind to love Lestat. Half the world does,” Louis said.

“What does the world know?” Daniel leaned toward Louis, “You ask me? Lestat’s getting the better end of the deal with this engagement.”

Louis smiled, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Anyone with half a brain would think so,” Daniel said, draining his glass.

Chapter 20: and riveted me to his side

Chapter Text

Read this and thought of you.

It was a text from Daniel. An article about young teachers and the innovative ways they were using to engage disconnected students.

Thank you this looks really interesting. Have you decided if you’re coming tomorrow night?

Daniel texted back. I’ll be there.

Louis smiled at his phone.

Neither he nor Claudia would go to tonight's show. They’d go tomorrow. Lestat was busy of course, but he wanted to take the two of them around Paris today.

“I want to see the model of the guillotine again,” Claudia said as she crawled into the car.

“You see that every time we’re here,” Lestat said, gesturing for Louis to sit in the middle.

“Cause it’s cool. Duh,” Claudia said.

“I don’t care what we do as long as we make it to the Louvre before we leave,” Louis said.

“Nooooo. The Louvre is so boring,” Claudia whined, “And people take so many pictures of us whenever Lestat makes us go.”

“Oh,” Louis hadn’t thought of that. He still hadn’t gotten into the habit of taking things like that into account, “Nevermind then.”

“I’m sorry mon amour . I should have thought ahead and had a private tour arranged. Next time,” Lestat said, slipping Louis’s hand in his.

Instead, they saw Lestat’s personal Parisian sights. His favorite patisserie. A stall he loved at the flea market. A record store. A tiny, cramped little restaurant where the proprietress greeted him by name and kissed his cheeks, treating him like a son, and Claudia like a granddaughter. Louis loved this glimpse of who Lestat was before the fame. He loved the mundane, run-down neighborhood where his first flat was, Lestat pointing up to his old window with such nostalgia and pride.

“You must take us around New Orleans when we go visit your sister. I want to see the city little Louis saw,” Lestat said as they rode back to the flat.

“Yeah,” Louis smiled, “I’d love to. Claudia, would you be interested in seeing my family’s mausoleum?”

“What’s a mausoleum?” she asked.

“An above ground grave. Lots of dead Du Lac’s inside.”

Her eyes widened in excitement, “Yes!”

Lestat had to leave them a bit early, as the arena was a good distance from the flat.

Louis decided to actually try and make dinner. Have a home-cooked meal for the first time in more than a month. He and Claudia put on hats and sunglasses and went to the store a couple of blocks from the flat. They bought the things to make a simple pasta dish and a little cake for them to share.

Claudia watched tv in the living room while Louis got dinner ready. He was filled with contentment. This was different than the hotels, different than when they’d been back in LA. This was one of Lestat’s homes. One of his homes now. Louis belonged here. That was their daughter over there laughing at the tv.

They ate together at the dining room table, Claudia outlining for him what her tour of Paris would be like. Predictably there were a lot more catacombs involved.

After Claudia went to bed, Louis waited up for Lestat as usual. He wandered around the flat, looking at all his treasures, wondering what the story was behind all of them. How old Lestat been when he’d found them? What had made him want it? Put it in this particular place? There was framed sheet music. A delicate lace domino mask on the mantle, fraying at the edges. An old aviator's helmet, goggles perched on top. A pair of golden opera glasses on a chain hanging from the key hook by the door. A tiny painting of a lamb bound for slaughter.

Very late, Lestat came home. Louis was watching a movie, laying on the couch. He sat up when Lestat walked inside.

Lestat smiled at him. He kicked off his shoes quickly and strode over to Louis.

“I need to shower immediately. I am filthy,” he murmured, leaning down as Louis rose to meet him, kissing him, “I got a bit carried away. I’m covered in sweat and whatever was on that stage.”

Louis laughed, “Were you rolling around on the ground?”

Lestat smiled, “I was moved. Nothing like a hometown crowd.”

“I wish I could’ve seen,” Louis said, kissing him again.

“Ah,” Lestat took out his phone, “Miri sent me a video that is already all over Twitter apparently.”

He pulled the video up and passed his phone to Louis. Louis laughed again. He really was doing the most. Lying on the ground, hips thrust towards the sky, screaming into the mic.

“So as you can see I’m unfit to touch you,” Lestat said, “I will shower, and then we will go to bed.”

“Okay,” Louis smiled. Lestat kissed his cheek and walked back to the bedroom.

Louis sat down on the couch and watched the rest of the video. Lestat rising up on his knees, leaning forward over the edge of the stage, grasping a fan's hand. He was incredible.

A text notification came up on the top of the screen from an unsaved number.

Merci beaucoup. A la prochaine.

It was a perfectly ordinary text. Any number of people could have sent it to Lestat. Louis didn’t know why he felt compelled to tap it and open the conversation.

He scrolled up. The whole thread was in French.

You cannot come to tomorrow’s show Lestat had texted whoever this was.

I don’t know if I can make it tonight they’d responded.

They I won’t see you at all Lestat replied.

A terrible coldness came over Louis. He scrolled up further. A month ago.

Roget told you to stop having parties Lestat said.

I’m not, it’s just a few friends over they’d responded.

Well have fewer friends over or find a different place to live Lestat replied.

Further back, three months now.

I got her repaired. Good as new. She misses you.

And directly above that, a photo of a violin.

But Louis had known somehow, even before the photo. This was Nicki.

He couldn’t stop reading. Utterly banal conversation. Casual. Intimate. Louis could hardly glean any details. Because they didn’t have to mention details. They knew each everything about each other already.

Louis stood numbly. He heard Lestat singing softly to himself in their bedroom. He pushed the door open.

Lestat turned to look at him. Damp hair tucked behind his ears. Only wearing his silky pajama bottoms. Smiling. He was so beautiful.

“You’d think I would be tired of acrobatics after tonight,” Lestat said, shutting the dresser drawer, “But I think I have one more excellent performance in me.”

He moved towards Louis. Louis moved back. Lestat’s brow creased.

“What’s wrong Louis?”

Louis couldn’t speak for a moment. His mind was clearing, as if he’d been jerked suddenly from a dream.

“Was he at the show tonight?” Louis asked, his voice faint.

Something flickered in Lestat’s eyes, “Who?”

Louis didn’t want to say his name.

“Was he?” Louis repeated.

Lestat just looked at him, “I don’t know who you mean.”

He was lying. Of course, he was lying.

“Do you pay his rent? Or does he live in a place of yours?” Louis asked.

Lestat’s face went blank. Louis held up Lestat’s phone.

“Here. He texted you,” Louis said. He walked around to his side of the bed and sat down, staring at the wall. He felt utterly vacant.

“Louis this is nothing. He’s nothing. You’ve upset yourself for nothing.”

For no reason at all, Louis thought about his high school prom. He hadn’t gone. The first boy he’d ever kissed had taken a girl.

“Have you f*cked him since we’ve been together?” Louis heard himself ask.

“What? No,” Lestat was in front of him now, kneeling at his feet, reaching for his face.

“Yeah. I don’t suppose you would’ve had the time,” Louis said.

“Louis, listen to me. I can explain, I can explain everything,” Lestat guided his head down so Louis was looking into his eyes. Louis let him. He waited for the explanation.

Lestat opened his mouth, then closed it, “I—I feel an obligation to him. He’s had a difficult life, and I’ve known him for some time. He lives in one of my apartments. I own lots of places. It’s nothing. I lend him money occasionally. I have lots of money. It’s nothing.”

It’s nothing. Louis felt nothing.

Yet he asked another question. Something inside him wanted to map the fullness of Lestat’s omissions.

“When you and Antoinette were married, who cheated first?”

Lestat went still. His hand slid off Louis’s face.

“And who did you cheat with?”

Lestat’s face became anguished, “Louis—”

“Explain.”

Lestat stared up at him for a long moment, his eyes searching Louis’s face. Louis had no idea what he saw there.

“I cheated first. With Nicki,” he said finally.

Louis nodded. His eyes shifted off Lestat’s face, and his gaze caught on his ring finger, the simple golden band encircling it.

“Were you planning on keeping this up after we got married? Giving him a place to live. Meeting him when I’m not around,” Louis asked.

“It’s nothing, Louis. He is nothing to me compared to you,” Lestat said fiercely, clutching desperately at Louis’s hands.

That meant yes. Louis felt something crack and shift inside him.

“When was the last time you f*cked him?” Louis asked almost absentmindedly.

Lestat let out a frustrated noise, “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Last month? Last year? The year before?” Louis recited, monotone.

“I don’t know. Last year maybe. Louis, it doesn’t matter. I don’t love him. I love you. Only you,” Lestat moved closer, his hands clutching Louis’s knees, fluttering up to touch his waist, his shoulder, his face. He looked on the verge of tears.

“Are there others?” Louis asked. Did Lestat bankroll the lives of any more former lovers? Potentially former. Louis didn’t believe him at all.

“What? No. No, there aren’t.”

“So it’s just him then? He's special to you,” Louis said.

“No, oh god Louis. He’s just. I’ve known him for a long time. I pity him. That’s it. That’s all.”

Merci beaucoup. A la prochaine.

Had Lestat f*cked him that very night? Had he pressed him against the wall of the arena and kissed him like he’d once done Louis? Had Lestat locked the green room door and devoured him with that same desperate passion that he had when he took Louis?

Louis stood up. Lestat grasped at his thighs, looking up at him, “Where are you going?”

“Guest room,” Louis mumbled.

“No,” Lestat stood quickly. Louis tried to move past him, but Lestat caught him by the shoulders, “I understand you're angry, but we can talk about this, there isn’t any need for this to become something…bigger. You are my priority, Louis. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I never will. Please.”

But Louis heard what Lestat didn’t say. He didn’t say I’ll cut him off. I’ll never see him again. Louis could ask him too. But he wouldn’t.

Louis shrugged out of Lestat’s grasp. He walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the guest room, Lestat on his heels.

“Louis, mon bonheur, do not behave so coldly, come back, speak with me.”

Louis opened the guest room door and tried to close it behind him, but Lestat shoved his shoulder in the way.

“Louis I love you,” he pleaded, “There is nothing bigger than that, nothing more important. This does not have to mean anything.”

Louis reached out and shoved Lestat away, rather lightly. But Lestat stumbled back like Louis had struck him hard, his face stricken. Louis shut the door and locked it.

“Louis, beloved, please,” Lestat begged.

“You’re gonna wake Claudia,” Louis said. Lestat lowered his voice and kept talking. Louis let his words wash over him, parsing none of them. He lay down on the bed and stared at the wall, seeing nothing. What he was going to do about Claudia? He didn’t want her to know about this. He didn’t want anyone to know. Poor, stupid Louis. Thought he was special. Thought he knew what he was doing.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t cry.

Louis’s numbness did not protect him in the morning. He woke with an ache in his heart before he even remembered what happened. He fought his tears. No foolish crying. Louis had been foolish enough already. He forced himself to get up. To check on Claudia. It was earlier than he’d realized. He let her sleep.

Louis was surprised to find Lestat in the kitchen, leaning with both arms against the counter, a glass of water in front of him. He looked up when Louis entered, straightening to his full height. His eyes were red. His hair was a frizzy halo around his head.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Louis crossed his arms.

“I want you to have Roget get me my own hotel rooms again please,” Louis said softly.

Lestat’s eyes widened, “No—”

“We’ll tell everyone your schedule isn’t good for Claudia. Too many people coming to see you when she’s trying to do school. You wake her up when you come home late. That sort of thing.”

“Louis—” Lestat started around the island towards him.

“And when we get back to LA, I will move out and commute.”

He could barely speak the words. It would be torture being in that house. But he couldn’t leave Claudia. That would be worse.

“No,” Lestat came up to him, grasped him by the shoulders pulling Louis against him urgently, “This is nothing but a misunderstanding. In no way does this mean that we…that we are no longer together. It can’t.”

Lestat’s body suffused him with drugging warmth. Louis tried to find the detachment of last night but found humiliation in its place. It was even more forceful of a motivator.

“I don’t think we say anything to anyone until the tour is over. It would be too awkward I think,” Louis said, his voice sounding detached even if he wasn’t.

“Louis this is stupid,” Lestat was getting angry now, “You belong to me. I belong to you, and this is nothing but a petty argument. You take it too far!”

Maybe he was right. What did Louis know about relationships anyway? Certainly far less than Lestat. Maybe this was something they should weather. Something Louis should swallow. But he couldn’t.

“Please don’t say anything to Claudia about this. I need to figure out a way to tell her that doesn’t make her feel like her life is going through another upheaval,” Louis said, looking past Lestat, over his shoulder.

“Louis, stop this,” Lestat brought his hands to his face, “Stop it now.”

Lestat kissed him, and for one blissful moment, everything went blank. His lips. His hands. His tongue.

Had he been kissing Nicki like this last night?

Louis shoved him away. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Lestat flinched.

“I’m taking Claudia out all day. There’s more of Paris she wants to see. We’ll be at the show,” Louis said, reciting his itinerary like a worker reporting to his boss, which is what he was.

Claudia didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. They went to the catacombs, to see the replica guillotine, and to some charming old bookstores. And she was excited for tonight. It was a white outfit night, but she really liked it anyway.

Louis kept his eyes out the window while they drove to the stadium. He didn’t bother Claudia about being on her phone. He was trying not to cry.

He felt like there was a fissure running down the center of his body, and every moment the two halves slid farther and farther apart.

Louis this is stupid.

It was stupid.

He didn’t see him before the concert began. He didn’t see him when he took Claudia to get ready. But he was everywhere of course. In the hum of the fans that could be heard throughout the whole building. In every single crew member walking by. In the band talking and laughing in the hallway. All of this was for him. Louis was once again a small part of the big machine of Lestat.

“Honey, I have a really bad headache,” Louis said to Claudia, “I think I’m gonna stay back here in the green room. It’s too loud out there.”

She quirked her mouth, “Okay, I guess.”

But Louis could still hear him from the green room. He hadn’t really noticed before, but there were speakers back here too, and his voice was clear and shimmering all around him. Louis walked down the long corridor, curving along the base of the arena, looking for an exit.

He found one. Darkness had only just fallen. The air was cooling. Louis wrapped his arms around himself and leaned against the metal of the building. He closed his eyes. You could hear the roar of the crowd, and the dim echoes of instruments. But Louis had escaped his voice.

After a long time, Louis sank down to the ground, sitting cross-legged. There was still so much time to go. And then back to the flat, and the guest room.

Tears started to fall down Louis’s cheeks.

The door beside him opened. Louis jumped.

“Hey. What are you doing out here?”

Louis looked up. It was Daniel, a pack of cigarettes in his hand.

“You're the one who convinced me to come to this thing and here I find you hiding out,” Daniel took out a cigarette, slipped the pack into his pocket, and pulled out a lighter.

Louis slowly stood to his feet.

“And I never would have found you out if I didn’t come out here. I thought the French were supposed to be cool about smoking inside,” Daniel lit up his cigarette.

“Sorry,” Louis said, swiping at his cheeks. Daniel noticed the movement. He turned his head to exhale, then said, “What’s up? You alright.”

“Yeah, I just. Rough day,” Louis said, sniffing.

“Rough how?” Daniel asked, genuine concern crossing his features.

Louis swallowed hard. The tears were threatening again. Dammit.

“Hey,” Daniel said softly, “What’s the matter?”

His voice was so kind and gentle, and there was no one else around. The dam broke. Louis started to cry. Not hiccuping or wracking sobs. But steady, sustained tears, from an endless well.

“Hey. Hey,” Daniel dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his boot. He reached for Louis. How humiliating. He’d met this guy yesterday. But Louis couldn’t refuse the hug, it was too needed. So were the soothing pats on his back, and Daniel going, “Damn, kid, what happened?”

Louis couldn’t explain. He stopped crying eventually, and shook his head, swiping at his face.

“It’s stupid. I’m sorry. I got your shirt wet. I’m so sorry,” Louis’s voice was choked.

“It’s just a shirt, Louis.”

“Still,” Louis said.

They stood there in silence for a minute, Louis catching his breath.

“You wanna get the f*ck outta here?” Daniel asked.

Louis looked up, surprised, “I can’t. I’m here for Claudia. I have to take her home."

“We’ll come back before it’s over. This sh*t is obscenely long.”

Louis smiled weakly.

“Come on,” Daniel said, turning and walking off, “There’s gotta be a bar around here somewhere.”

Louis followed him.

There was a bar. To swanky and sparkly for how Louis was feeling, but it was good to be away from the stadium. Daniel got them beer and led them to a table in a dark corner. He slid the beer in Louis’s direction.

“Out with it,” he commanded.

And Louis actually told him. And found he needed to tell somebody. Even though he cringed, and felt shame burning him up, it was good to tell somebody.

When he was done, Daniel sighed deeply.

“f*ck that guy,” he said.

Louis let out a surprised laugh.

“I’m serious,” Daniel said, “I’ve never f*cking liked him and this is kerosene on that fire.”

“Why? Why did you never like him?” Louis asked.

“Cause of sh*t like that, what he did to you. To him, that’s normal. That’s fine,” Daniel leaned forward, “And when Armand runs, he’s run to f*cking Lestat. Because they’re f*cked up in the same way.”

Daniel threw out an arm, “Out in the real world? If you were to say to someone, my fiance pays for his ex-boyfriend's life, is that normal? They’d go f*ck no. If you were to say, my boyfriend claims I’m the love of his life but country hops to avoid having a real conversation, is that normal? They’d say f*ck no. But to those two, in their f*cked up little famous rich bubble. It’s all fine.”

Louis stared at him. He'd articulated something Louis didn't even know needed articulation. The strange unreality of Lestat's life, which Louis had entered before he'd even known what was happening. Daniel sat back, releasing a long breath, “Sorry. Sorry. Clearly, half that was about me.”

“No. No, you’re right,” Louis said. Daniel shoved his glasses up into his hair and rub his eyes.

“Listen, Louis,” Daniel said, taking a sip of his beer, “Take the advice of an asshole who’s been playing this game for too long. Get out. You’re young, you’re gorgeous, you're brilliant. I can tell all that and I’ve only known you for twenty-four hours. You don’t need this sh*t.”

Daniel’s stare was so frank, his words so blunt and assured. For a brief moment, Louis remembered that there had been a world before Lestat. A half-world. But a world.

Louis shook his head, “Claudia. I can’t leave Claudia.”

“Jesus Louis, you’re not responsible for that guy's kid,” Daniel scoffed.

“I love her though. I really love her,” Louis said, the tears coming back. And he loved him, though he didn’t say it.

“Jesus,” Daniel said again, softer.

They lapsed into silence, drinking their beers.

“You ever investigated a cult?” Louis asked, wanting to talk about anything else.

Daniel smiled at him wryly, seeming to understand, “No, but a buddy of mine did. Got in real deep. I was worried about him for a while.”

For the next couple of hours, they talked about anything other than their relationships. Work. Favorite movies. Their most irrational fears. People they hated in high school. And the pain faded to the background ever so slightly.

They walked back together. Louis didn’t want Claudia to know he was gone. He hadn’t considered the possibility that it would be harder to get in than out. Silly. A guard Louis didn’t recognize stopped them. He worked for the venue.

“Sorry,” Louis said to Daniel.

“For what? I’m the one that stole you away,” Daniel said, lighting up. Louis leaned against the wall of the building. The guard that stopped them was talking on the phone. People were starting to filter out into the parking lot. The concert was over.

“So, what are you going to do?” Daniel said softly, bracing his hand against the wall near Louis’s head, leaning towards him.

“I dunno, get through the tour,” Louis said sighing. How he'd do that, only god knew.

“You’re made of strong stuff Du Lac,” Daniel said, shaking his head and smiling at him.

Louis smiled back. He didn’t feel like he was made of strong stuff.

“Louis.”

Louis and Daniel both turned their heads.

Lestat was there, coming to an abrupt halt. He was still in his costume. The one with the huge golden crucifix, white leather pants, and romantic billowing white shirt. His lead security guard rushed up after him.

“Again, so sorry Mr. Lioncourt, we had no idea he left,” the security guard said, out of breath.

Lestat’s eyes moved from Louis to Daniel and back, fire flickering within.

Chapter 21: I shut myself in, fastened the bolt

Chapter Text

Lestat fired his entire security team.

“You are all so f*cking incompetent that my ex-wife is allowed to harass my family on multiple occasions, and my fiance can disappear into the streets of Saint-Denis without you even bothering to ask where he is going!”

“Sir, we—”

“Are useless! Roget!”

Roget stepped forward. They were in the green room of the stadium. Armand and Daniel had left already, but everyone else was around to witness Lestat’s rage. No one seemed surprised.

“Yes?” Roget said.

“Get me new security, immediately, preferably people with actual brains in their skulls,” Lestat snapped.

“Of course,” Roget pulled his phone out of his inside jacket pocket and immediately made a call, walking off.

“Everyone out,” Lestat barked.

Claudia slid her noise-canceling headphones off, “Is he done yelling?” she asked Louis.

“I think so,” he said.

Finally, it was just Louis, Lestat, and Claudia in the green room, the last person to leave closing the door behind them.

“Louis,” Lestat began, still pacing back and forth in front of them, “I know you are not yet used to fame but wandering off like that with no word to anyone—”

Louis was not going to be lectured, “Let’s go home. Claudia needs to get to sleep.”

Lestat’s jaw twitched, but he fell silent.

The tension between Louis and Lestat filled the car on the ride back, but Louis kept the conversation with Claudia going, hoping she wouldn’t notice. When they got back to the flat he made her shower under protest and got her a snack when she asked. He probably kept her up too long talking with her, before she finally decided she was tired on her own. He didn’t want to talk to Lestat.

As soon as Claudia was asleep Louis went into the guest room. Lestat was there before he could shut the door. Lestat shut it behind him instead.

Louis started to pull pajamas out of his suitcase and toss them on the bed, “That was completely unnecessary, firing all those people. Putting them out of a job in the middle of Europe.”

After a moment, Lestat spoke, “They were incompetent. And they will be well compensated and have their flights home paid for. No need to worry.”

“Still not right,” Louis said, “You punishing them cause you mad at me.”

“I was contemplating firing them after Antoinette invaded our hotel. I told them not to let her near us. Tonight, with you, was the final straw.”

“They couldn’t have stopped me from going anywhere. I’m a grown man,” Louis slammed the drawer shut and turned around to face Lestat.

“I don’t expect them to stop you. I expect them to use common sense and ensure you are safe.”

“I was fine. I was with a friend,” Louis said. He wished Lestat would leave so he could go to sleep. He was exhausted.

“A friend,” Lestat smiled, tiny, false, “He’s a friend now is he? That was quick.”

“Yes,” Louis said, “We have a lot in common.”

“Ah,” Lestat nodded, “Like what?”

Louis started to answer, but then stopped, “Don’t worry about it.”

Lestat walked towards him, “I do worry. Molloy has never had much nice to say about me.”

“So?” Louis said.

“So you can understand why I would find your friendship with him unpleasant to contemplate,” Lestat was even closer now.

“I don’t actually. Cause we’re not together. I’m single and can be friends with whoever I want,” Louis said.

Lestat was very close to him now, looking down on him, his eyes flinty. He crowded Louis backward until he bumped against the dresser.

“Quit playin’,” Louis said, irritated, and flooded with the warmth Lestat brought whenever he was near. Which only made him more irritated.

Quickly, Lestat slid his hand across the place where Louis’s neck met his shoulder, and up, till he was cradling his head with one hand, the other on Louis’s back, pressing them together. Louis’s breath quickened. His lips parted slightly.

“Do you feel single?” Lestat asked softly.

Then he kissed Louis slowly, tenderly, bending him back slightly. Louis’s eyes fluttered closed. Lestat kissed his eyelids, his forehead, his cheekbones.

Suddenly Lestat spun Louis around so his front was pressed against the dresser. The whole length of Lestat’s body was pressed against him, Lestat's hands on his waist. And then Lestat was grinding against him, slowly. Lestat ducked his head to kiss up Louis’s neck.

“I don’t know mon amour, you don’t feel single to me,” Lestat said, between kisses, “You feel like mine.”

It wasn’t that Louis’s mind was blank. It was entirely too full. It was that his body was, at least in that moment, more demanding than all the protests and worries in his brain. His head fell back on Lestat’s shoulder, and Lestat’s hands slid downward, and it was like a reprieve, a ceasefire. Louis let himself be swept away, gripping onto the dresser for stability, their usual desperate coupling taking on a new roughness. A forceful attempt to convince.

Afterward, Lestat collapsed against him, breathless, heavy on Louis’s back, gripping the dresser now too. The weight of him was exquisite. Louis was furious with himself.

“Get offa me,” he shoved away from the dresser, yanking his pants up, walking quickly into the guest bath, and slamming the door behind him. Immediately he turned on the shower and got in.

He scrubbed himself roughly, wanting the smell of Lestat off him. Then he stood for a long time under the showerhead, the water hot, his face tilted up.

Before the proposal, before the weeks of delirious happiness, Louis had been able to say no to Lestat. Despite the drugging kisses, despite his hands, and his body. He’d said no that night in the garage. Because he hadn’t known what he was missing. He could get back to that person though. Back to the real world, like Daniel said.

When he walked out of the bathroom, Lestat was still there, sitting on the end of the bed, which Louis really should have known would be the case.

“I’m so tired,” Louis said, “Please just let me sleep.”

Lestat looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. Finally, he left.

It was a travel day. They were going to Nice.

He and Claudia sat in their usual spots at the back of the plane, going through morning lessons, then eating lunch.

“So what he do?” Claudia asked, then took a bite of her pasta.

Louis looked over at her, “What do you mean?”

“Lestat. What did he do? You're both being weird,” Claudia said.

Louis sighed. It was stupid to think she wouldn’t notice. Kids noticed everything.

“Don’t worry about any of that,” Louis said.

“He dump you?” Claudia asked, trying to sound casual. But there was an edge of worry in her voice.

“No. Don’t worry. I mean it. It’s fine, just stupid grown-up stuff,” Louis said. He’d make sure it was fine for Claudia at least. He had to.

“Okaaaaay,” Claudia said, clearly not believing him.

Lestat had left him alone this morning, probably because he spent the morning getting Claudia ready to travel. Louis was using her as a shield almost, to avoid talking to Lestat, which was sh*tty of him. But he really didn’t want to talk to Lestat or be alone with him. Last night felt like another humiliation. Lestat could lie, and manipulate, and Louis would still f*ck him apparently. f*cking embarrassing is what it was.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about Nicki. Did Lestat f*ck Nicki like that? How many times had Lestat touched Nicki in the twenty-one years they had known each other? How many times had Lestat told Nicki I love you? Called him mon cher?

There was another horrible thought burning Louis up inside. Lestat said he broke up with Nicki because he wasn’t the type of person Claudia should be around. Louis was that type of person, clearly. Was Lestat just with Louis for Claudia's sake? Was Nicki the one he really wanted? Was Lestat’s plan all along to have Louis be in the house, the perfect stepdad, while he slept with Nicki on the side? Was Lestat trying to have his cake and eat it too?

Louis’s phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. A text from Daniel.

You good?

It was nice for Daniel to check in. Louis texted back.

Define “good.”

Daniel replied immediately.

Are you sobbing/throwing up/hiding Lioncourt’s body?

Louis smiled.

No. So then, yes, I am good. How are you?

You’re never gonna believe this. But I’m investigating a murder.

Louis laughed. They texted about Daniel’s work for a bit. He actually was investigating a murder, and it was interesting for Louis to hear what that was like, if a bit morbid. Then Daniel asked about his thoughts on the article he’d sent yesterday morning, and they talked about that too. It was nice. Really nice. Louis had a friend, even if they only had been friends for a couple days. It had been a long time since he’d had one of those.

When they landed in Nice there was an entirely new security team waiting for them. Amazing what money can do. This team had a guard specifically assigned to Louis like there was one assigned to Lestat and Claudia.

“This is totally unnecessary. I’m always with Claudia anyway,” Louis said to Lestat and Roget. They were standing in the private airfield, the new security head explaining the protocol to them.

“I should have done this months ago,” Lestat said, waving him off.

“I’m not having some guy follow me everywhere,” Louis said, “I’m not the famous one.”

“It’s just a precaution,” the security head said, “There’s quite a bit about you online right now. We can regroup once that dies down.”

“What do you mean?” Louis had mostly avoided looking at things about himself online and blocked or muted anyone from back home who sent him anything or wanted to talk about it. Before he hadn’t wanted anything intruding on their bubble of happiness, now it would just be painful. He glanced at Lestat.

Lestat raised his brows, “Do you want to know? I can have Miri loop you in.”

Miri the publicist was involved? Jesus.

“Let's just talk about all this later,” Louis said. He needed to think.

At the hotel, Louis, Lestat, and Claudia were still booked into a single family suite.

Louis pulled Lestat aside in the lobby, “I told you to get me my own room.”

“You also told me you didn’t want Claudia to know about any of this, and I can tell she’s noticed,” Lestat said, “I didn’t want to make her worry.”

Louis huffed, pressing his lips together. He felt trapped suddenly. By the room. The security guard. His desire for Lestat. His affection for Claudia. By the fact that this was his f*cking job.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said, “And I’m not taking your goddamn security guard with me.”

Louis didn’t wait for a response. He strode quickly out of the hotel, choosing a random direction.

Nice was actually really beautiful. He could see the ocean, the stunningly blue water. The air was cool and smelled like the sea. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze. Louis wished he was happy right now, so he could be happy here.

He’d been walking for about ten minutes, aimless, trying to find any clarity, when his phone went off in his pocket. It was Daniel again.

I have some shocking news. The police force here is incompetent.

Louis smiled.

On impulse, he called Daniel. Just tapped his name and hit call. He immediately regretted it. But it was too late, the line was ringing. Daniel picked up.

“Are you calling me to defend the police, cause that would actually be a shock,” Daniel said.

Louis was embarrassed, “No, sorry. I’m not even sure why I called. I don’t even know if it’s an alright time to call where you are.”

“Well, I did just text you. So clearly I’m awake. It’s 9 am here,” Daniel said.

“Oh. Right. Good,” Louis said. Why had he called him?

“So what’s up kid?” Daniel said, “You kill him after all and need an expert's advice about disposing of the body?”

Louis laughed, “You an expert?”

“Maybe. I need to know if you are also a criminal before I implicate myself,” Daniel replied.

Louis laughed again, “No. I’ve just had a weird day is all. I just wanted…I don’t know.”

He was embarrassed again. Texting a new friend was one thing, randomly calling them up was another.

“Wanted what?” Daniel asked.

“Sorry,” Louis repeated, “Like I said, weird day. Weird mood.”

“Stop apologizing,” Daniel said, “And weird how?”

Louis sighed, “He got me my own private security guard. And he wouldn’t book me my own room.”

“Yikes,” Daniel said.

“Yeah,” Louis looked down.

“The security guard thing I kind of get. The room thing though. And those two together. Yikes,” Daniel repeated.

“Why do you get the security guard thing?” Louis asked, surprised.

“Oh, just the obscene fame and ransom potential,” Daniel said.

Louis was about to object that he was only famous by association, but instead, he asked, “The guard mentioned that I was all over the internet. Have you heard anything about that?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said like duh, “You haven’t?”

“I’m not a very online person. Especially not these days,” Louis said, “Why are people talking about me? Are they?”

Daniel scoffed, “That thing Lestat said onstage about you when he announced the proposal—something something love of my life something something beating heart. Everyone lost their minds. Twitter was unusable.”

Louis closed his eyes briefly. He could hear Lestat’s voice.

Louis. My beating heart. I didn’t know it. But every song of beauty, or grace or passion. Every word of love I’ve ever written has been for you. They will always be for you.

“God,” Louis sighed.

“And you’re very photogenic. Plus the whole public school teacher and rockstar angle. I mean it’s good stuff from a story perspective. Sappy, but good.”

Louis laughed a little.

“Sorry,” Daniel said.

“No,” Louis said, “You’re good. Thanks for telling me. I don’t want to go digging right now.”

“I get it,” Daniel said.

Louis rubbed a hand on his forehead, “So the security guard thing isn’t crazy.”

“It’s probably a little much, but not crazy,” Daniel confirmed.

“Okay then,” Louis said. He turned around and looked back at the hotel, “Thanks, Daniel.”

“Anytime.”

Chapter 22: disclosure open beyond disclosure

Chapter Text

Louis didn’t even know what room they were staying in. He’d left before they’d checked in. He called Roget.

“Hello, Louis.”

“Can you get me my own room please?” Louis asked.

Roget paused, “I would be happy to of course but I’ll need to check with—“

Louis sighed. Everyone f*cking worked for Lestat, “Nevermind. What room is he in?”

The security guard outside the door let Louis into the suite. Lestat’s team was there, crowded around the coffee table, laptops open. Louis went and checked in on Claudia, who was stretched out on her bed reading. When he came back out, everyone was packing up.

“I’ll connect with venue security myself from now on,” Jay called as she left.

“Thank you,” Lestat replied. Jay shut the door behind her.

Lestat looked at Louis. He walked to the other bedroom door and opened it, gesturing for Louis to enter.

There was no practical reason for Louis to avoid this conversation any longer, besides fear. He’d put himself in limbo, and he couldn’t stay there forever. He walked into the bedroom.

Lestat shut the door. Louis walked past him and sat down at the end of the bed, looking at the ground. Lestat dragged a chair from the corner and sat across from him.

They sat in silence for a moment. Lestat leaned forward, hands braced on his knees.

“Nicolas and I grew up in the same town. I’ve known of him my entire life. But we became friends at fifteen.”

Louis was surprised. He didn’t expect Lestat to start there.

“His father was not unlike my father. Except Nicki did not have the good fortune of his father f*cking off. He remained in order to inflict the most possible torment. We became very dear friends because we understood one another. When I left for Paris, he followed me as soon as he graduated.”

Lestat paused. He looked Louis in the eye, “I am not proud of the person I was. I did not want you to know the person I was. You…you are every good thing. I didn’t want any of my past to touch you.”

Louis’s heart lurched, but he remained silent. Lestat continued.

“Nicki studied violin in Paris. He was very committed. A good student. And I was young and increasingly successful. I loved to go out. To drink. Try whatever drugs were on offer. Nicki had no particular interest in doing any of that. But I wanted him to come along. Encouraged him to try new things. For fun.”

Lestat’s eyes shifted off of him, “But Nicki was not like me. I could bounce back. I never developed any particularly strong dependencies. But he did. And they destroyed him.”

Louis was silent. Lestat’s voice had gone flat, his eyes troubled when he looked up at him.

“Do you understand Louis? I destroyed him. He was young and naive, a brilliant violinist with a bright future. And I, selfish creature that I am, stole years from him. He almost died. More than once. And there have been many health complications as a result.”

Louis’s heart was in his throat.

“After Claudia, when I began to sort myself out, I realized the extent of the damage I’d done. And by breaking up with him I’d only wrought more. He was hanging on by a thread. I paid for rehab, for doctors, everything. But it took years for him to get better. Only in the past four or so has he started to have a life again.”

Louis didn’t know what to say. Things were coming into focus. The apartment. The money. The checking in Lestat did.

“He was there, at the concert?” Louis asked.

“Yes,” Lestat said quietly.

“What happened?” Louis asked.

Lestat sighed, “I…Despite my best efforts, before now, I have never been able to detangle myself from Nicki. I wanted to see him in person. Explain the new circ*mstances. That I’m with someone now. Predictably, he didn’t take me seriously.”

“Why is that predictable?” Louis asked.

Lestat hesitated, “Because my being with someone has never precluded…my being with him.”

“So…you’ve cheated on everyone you’ve ever been with. With him?” Louis said, going cold.

“Not you,” Lestat said urgently, “He came to the concert. I told him about you. How it’s different. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. He brushed it off, didn’t believe me. Tried to kiss me. Tried to touch me. But I said no, Louis. I said no and sent him off. You must believe that.”

“Then what was he thanking you for? Why did he say see you next time?” Louis asked.

Lestat sat back, “I told him I wouldn’t be seeing him anymore, but that the apartment was his. That is what he was thanking me for. The next time was him being presumptuous. And he’s wrong. I won’t see him again.”

Louis felt heavy. His head hurt.

“Do you love him still?” Louis asked and instantly wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Lestat took a long moment to answer, “I bear for him an affection. It would be inhuman if I didn’t.”

Louis felt a pang in his chest but nodded. It was good that Lestat cared. Louis shouldn't want him to not care.

“Do you believe me?” Lestat asked, taking Louis’s hands in his.

Strangely, Louis did believe him. It all rang starkly true. He realized, once again, how much bigger Lestat’s life was than his. How much fuller. He couldn’t hold that against him. But could he handle it?

“Yes,” Louis said, “I believe you.”

Relief overtook Lestat’s face. His shoulders sagged.

“Thank you. Thank you,” Lestat kissed his knuckles, his palms, the inside of his wrists. Louis felt little sparks of light all over.

“I’m so sorry any of this sordid business ever touched you. Ever touched our happiness,” Lestat said, cupping his face. Then Lestat shoved back his chair and was kneeling at his feet, taking off Louis’s shoes, and kicking off his own.

“I need to hold you, just for a moment,” Lestat said, stripping off his suit jacket, and climbing into bed, drawing Louis back and towards him. He cradled Louis’s head against his shoulder, then wrapped his arms snug around Louis’s waist. And it felt perfect. Wonderful. A circle of light.

Outside the circle, shadows.

They were going back to the US.

“I want real McDonald’s. And ice in all my drinks! Even orange juice. And I want the drink to be HUGE!” Claudia was running across the tarmac towards the jet.

Lestat groaned, “I’ve raised an American. How did that happen?”

Louis smiled over at him. Lestat was climbing out of the car, sliding his sunglasses down over his eyes.

“Here,” Lestat passed Louis another pair of glasses, pointing across the airfield. There was a crowd of paparazzi pressed against the fence.

“Hide your expression,” Lestat said, “They live to misinterpret it.”

Louis slid the glasses on. Lestat threw his arm across Louis's shoulder, and they headed towards the plane.

“You never told me. Do you want to visit your sister during our break?” Lestat asked.

“Oh. I forgot all about that,” Louis said.

“Well, do you want to call and ask her? Even if it’s only for an afternoon,” Lestat said as they walked up the steps to board.

“I guess,” Louis said. Lestat wanted to. Grace wanted to. It made him uneasy, but it would be wonderful if it actually went well, “I’ll call her.”

Louis headed to the back to make the call before they took off. The band was standing in the middle of the plane, blocking his way. And ignoring him evidently.

“Excuse me,” he said, loudly.

“Sorry dude,” Alex said, shooting a look at Larry as they moved out of the way. Louis shoved past them quickly. He didn’t know what their problem was with him, other than that they felt they didn’t have to respect him. Maybe he should bring it up to Lestat, though it seemed kind of petty.

He went into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. He wasn't sure if he was hesitating more because of Grace or Lestat.

Since he’d told him the rest of the Nicki story, Lestat had gone back to behaving like before, and Louis followed his lead. The ring Louis never took off still glinted on his finger. That night, Lestat asked Louis, while he was unbuttoning his shirt for him, “Do you still want your own room?”

And Louis felt Lestat’s lips on his chest and said, “No.”

And then in bed after, Lestat looked at him and said, “You can’t give up on me so easily mon cher. Not again. I can’t take it.”

Louis had looked into his eyes, glassy, pleading, heard the plaintive note in his voice, and nodded.

He believed Lestat. And that belief let all the love flow easier again, though it had never stopped flowing.

But it was somehow more intense than before their fight, tinged with fear. Louis felt flayed open, every nerve exposed. Lestat’s power over him was terrifying. His only balm was that Lestat seemed in just as deep as he was. He loved the way Lestat seemed to need him. How he wanted to be with him all day long and was on him in an instant when they were alone. The things he called him. Beloved. Angel. My love. The way he stared at him after he came, thunderstruck. Like Louis was a miracle, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

He said he wasn’t going to see Nicki anymore. Roget would handle signing over the apartment, he’d lived there for four years anyway, and Lestat didn’t need it. That was it, Lestat said. He was washing his hands of him.

So things were fine now. They’d solved that issue. Move on. Have him meet Grace.

And Grace, a different worry. She said she loved and accepted him no matter what, but she had never actually dealt with the reality of him being gay until now.

Well, there was nothing to do but try.

“Hey Louis,” Grace answered.

“Hey. Look, uh. Lestat really wants to meet you. And we have a little break in between legs of the tour. We could swing down for an afternoon.”

“You can’t stay longer?”

“No, the schedule is tight.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble for an afternoon,” Grace said.

“It’s not really. We’ll be in Cleveland. They said the jet can make it down to New Orleans in two hours or so.”

“Oh right. He has a jet,” Grace said, “Well in that case sure.”

“Does tomorrow work? I’m sorry for the short notice. Things have been crazy.”

“It’s fine,” Grace said. But it wasn’t. She had that note in her voice that Mama got when she was acting long-suffering. Louis sometimes heard it in his own voice, and he annoyed himself.

Louis made himself sound cheerful, “Great! Lestat loves the Commander’s Palace. He likes fussy stuff like that. It’s our treat.”

“Sounds good,” Grace said.

“Alright. See you then.”

Louis was once again made aware of how expensive Lestat looked. How he wore fame like a mantle. Even Grace, who barely knew who he was, seemed a bit taken aback. His glossy blonde hair fell perfectly down his shoulders. Diamonds glinted on his fingers. His suit was sharply tailored perfection. And then there were all the eyes on him. The restaurant rippled with whispers when he strode through. A timid teenage girl asked for a selfie, which he graciously granted. Even Claudia, who to Louis was simply his little girl, had a gloss of fame and beauty Louis had grown used to. The dress she’d thrown on so casually had cost thousands.

Grace was uncomfortable. Louis could tell. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“So how’s the boyfriend?” Louis asked, “I should’ve asked if you wanted to bring him.”

“Levi’s fine. And he’s away at school anyway,” Grace said.

“Right. Bama right?”

“Yeah,” Grace nodded.

“How’s school going for you?” Louis asked. Grace was at LSU.

“It’s good,” she nodded. It wasn't like her to be so short with her answers. She loved to chit-chat.

“And what are you studying?” Lestat asked.

“Nursing,” Grace said.

“Ah,” Lestat smiled, “All the Du Lacs seem to choose noble professions. Teaching, nursing. Claudia, you should follow Louis and Grace’s example, not mine.”

“Uh, yeah,” Claudia said, glancing up from her lap. Louis held out his hand. She stared at it petulantly, then slapped her phone down in it.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Louis said, sliding her phone into his pocket.

Lestat leaned forward. His voice was warm, inviting, “I want to know positively everything. What were you and Louis like growing up? Were you friends?”

“I wouldn’t say friends,” Grace said.

“You wouldn’t?” Louis looked over at her in disbelief.

She laughed, “You were like a little dad. Always bossin’ me and Paul.”

“I was lookin' out for you,” Louis said.

“Exactly. And now I know well enough to appreciate you for it,” Grace said, smiling.

“Mhmmm,” Louis said, skeptical but smiling anyway.

“And Paul, what was he like?” Lestat asked.

“Oh Paul was off in his own little world,” Grace said, “Still is a bit. Louis used to draw him out. Swear he never would’ve said more than two words to anybody if it wasn’t for Louis.”

Louis shook his head, “Paul could say plenty when he wanted to.”

“But he didn’t want to say much to hardly anyone but you.”

Louis waved her off. Lestat was looking at him, a soft smile on his face.

“Who’s Paul?” Claudia asked.

“Our brother,” Louis said.

“Why didn’t he come?” she asked.

“Paul is having a hard time adjusting to the idea of Louis getting married,” Grace answered for him, “He doesn’t like change.”

Claudia accepted this easily, taking a drink of her co*ke and chewing on a piece of ice.

Louis shot Grace an appreciative look. Paul was fine to interact with as long as Louis didn’t mention that he was gay and not moving back to New Orleans any time soon. So this lunch would have been out of the question.

“Tell me about your father,” Lestat said, “Louis speaks of him so fondly.”

That was the right thing to say to Grace, who had been a daddy’s girl. She launched into a story, and she and Louis started reminiscing, Lestat drawing story after story out of them. He was wonderful. He asked all the right questions. When had Grace known she wanted to be a nurse? Did she know what she wanted to specialize in? Was it hard being apart from Levi at college? Young love can be a trial. He'd put Grace at ease and charmed her right down to her toes. Louis was proud to be showing him off. By the end of lunch, he felt lighter than he'd had in months. This was his family right here, getting along. Talking and laughing.

Grace had walked to the restaurant since it wasn’t far from the Du Lac house.

“We will drive you home,” Lestat said, opening the SUV door for her. She thanked him, climbing in. On the way there Claudia, her phone in her possession once more, showed Grace pictures of her costumes from the tour, with very detailed fashion commentary for a twelve-year-old.

Louis walked Grace to the front door. He hadn’t been back here in so long. Everything about his life was different now, but the house was exactly the same. Wrap-around porch. Hanging baskets overflowing with flowers. The dark green shutters. Once the idea of being back in this city had filled him with dread. And now he was here with his fiancé and his future daughter.

Grace hugged him, “He seems like a real good guy Louis. And I can tell he loves you.”

Louis smiled, hugging her back, “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you like him.”

“I do like him. Even though he’s white,” she said.

Louis laughed, “Big of you.”

“And Claudia. She’s a firecracker.”

“She’s amazing,” Louis smiled, “It was so good to see you. I won’t let it be this long again.”

“You better not,” swatting his shoulder.

The front door opened.

“Grace get inside.”

It was their Mama. She looked the same too. Perfectly neat head of grey hair, and the world's most forbidding expression.

“I thought you were at your women’s Bible study,” Grace said.

“I bet you did. Get inside,” Mama wasn’t even looking at Louis.

Grace shot Louis an apologetic smile, “Love you,” she said, walking past Mama and into the house.

“Love you too,” Louis called.

He looked at his mother for a moment. She didn’t look at him. He moved to go.

“I cannot believe that a child of mine—“

There it was. Louis turned around.

“A child I raised! Would be so publicly involved in adultery! Adultery! Shameful!” She raised a hand and brought it down mightily like a judge banging a gavel.Then she slammed the door shut.

What was she talking about?

Louis’s phone started to buzz in his pocket as he walked down the drive. It was Daniel.

“Hey,” Louis said, distracted by what his mother said. Adultery?

“Hey, look, have you read this thing in The Cut?”

“What thing?” Louis asked.

“Then no, you haven’t read it. I know you’re not online much but this….yeah. I’m sending you the link,” Daniel said.

Louis's phone buzzed. He tapped the link from Daniel. It was an article.

“Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll: My Life with Lestat de Lioncourt”

By Nicolas de Lenfent.

Chapter 23: struck with a subtile doom

Chapter Text

On June 5th of this year, my partner of eighteen years (on and off again, it must be said) told me he was leaving me for his twenty-five year old nanny. Then, ten days later, he announced his engagement to said nanny on stage at his London show. He called him the “love of his life.”

This was not the first time he’d done something like this. When his daughter Claudia was born he said I was no longer welcome in his home. When he got engaged to his ex-wife, he told me after the fact. It was an impulsive decision on his part. But on neither of those occasions did he end our relationship. I was his Nicki till the end he said. I just was not his Nicki in public.

But something was different about the nanny apparently. Because this time he said our relationship was over.

The first time, he’d simply called me to tell me we were finished. I was surprised he’d called me actually. Our relationship had been long-distance for some time, and he’d been slipping on communication lately.

I didn’t believe him. Not even for a second. Not even when it was clear he was sending all my calls to voicemail. I resorted to calling his manager to ask for news, and he assured me Lestat was just very busy with preparations for his tour. I called his band members, who’ve been friends of mine for years. He’s just being Les, they said. To be fair, I don’t think they knew any different at that point. They didn’t know what he claimed to feel for the nanny and I didn’t tell them. I thought it would all blow over.

I still didn’t believe it when he announced his engagement to the whole world. After all, he’d done that before. I demanded to see him in person. Hear it from his lips. See his eyes while he told me. I’d have to wait he said. I could come to a show in Paris.

The day before I was supposed to meet him he switched the days on me. I could meet him today or not at all. I had to drive back to Paris from visiting a friend to make it on time. I didn’t know until I arrived that he switched the days because his fiance was coming to tomorrow’s show, and the fiance didn’t want me there.

He told me that he cared very much for me, but he couldn’t see me anymore.

“It’s love,” he said.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he said.

And yet I still didn’t believe him. Why would I? No breakup of ours had ever stuck. His Nicki till the end.

But he meant it. I slowly realized that that iron will I knew so well was resolved against me. That the intense beam of his love had gone out and was pointed at another. It was over, without ceremony. My pleading fell on deaf ears. I could have the little flat in Paris he’d stashed me in. As a parting gift.

I know as you read this, you may wonder why I would humiliate myself in this fashion. I am, after all, admitting to sticking with a man who consistently cheated on me for nearly two decades. Who kept me like an old-fashioned aristocratic mistress during his very brief, yet very public marriage. Who I took back, after said marriage. I do it simply because it is better to be humiliated in the light than in the dark. I would like some witnesses this time if only to ensure I haven’t lost my mind.

Why did I do all that? That’s even simpler. I did it because he was all I had.

“Louis,” Lestat called, “What’s the matter? Get in the car.”

Louis’s head jerked up. He’d forgotten where he was. Standing on the path to the front door of his childhood home. He looked down at his phone again.

I said that to him that night, “You're all I have.”

And he said, “Louis doesn’t want us to be in contact anymore.”

That’s the nanny’s name. Louis. The love of his life knew who I was apparently. Knew the whole dirty tale. And it made the love of his life uncomfortable. The love of his life didn’t want me haunting their happy family. Lestat was just taking out the trash like a good husband-to-be.

“Louis! Get in, please!”

Louis walked forward slowly. Lestat squinted at him, “What’s the matter?”

Lestat’s phone started ringing. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and silenced it.

Louis walked up to the car. Put his hand on the sill, and looked at Lestat. The back down at his phone.

For almost twenty years I truly believed he might be my husband one day. Bear with me reader. I know a hope like that is humiliating. Witness it for me.

After his marriage to Antoinette Brown ended, it seemed like it might be possible for the first time since we were twenty. Before the drugs, and the bouts of rehab, and the endless, miserable fighting. I was better. He was free. Maybe Nicki. Maybe when Claudia is a little older. I pushed. A civil union? They’re common in France. Oftentimes a prelude to marriage. Maybe Nicki. He’d have to talk to his lawyers. But when I heard from his lawyers, roughly six months after that conversation, it was to sign over the little apartment in Montmartre to me. Free and clear. I imagine he thought he was being generous.

Lestat’s phone went off again.

“Miri keeps calling,” Lestat said, his voice faintly worried.

An absurd laugh bubbled out of Louis, “You should answer it.”

Lestat looked up at him, confused. He answered his phone.

“Yes,” he answered. Louis watched his face morph into fury, “What are you talking about?”

Louis, rooted to the spot, kept reading. The rest was essentially the story Lestat had told him. Nicki and Lestat had been best friends in high school. Fell in love at eighteen. Nicki developed addiction issues after being taken to parties by Lestat, being encouraged to try drugs by Lestat. Crippling addiction issues. And Lestat was both there and not there. Paying for rehab, for doctors. Flying to Nicki when he needed him. But also sleeping with Maya Carter and having a daughter. Sleeping with many other people, though there were no other daughters.

But there was one crucial difference between Lestat’s version and Nicki’s version. According to Nicki, Lestat wasn’t cheating with Nicki for two decades. He was cheating on Nicki. Which really was a matter of perspective, wasn’t it? Louis let out another laugh.

“How did you not know this was coming?” Lestat was shouting into his phone, “What do you I imagine I pay you for?”

Louis read the final paragraph of the article.

I spend far too much time these days looking at the many photos of his new fiance peppering the internet. He’s gorgeous. Young. Unspoiled. I read he went to a good university and graduated with honors. I didn’t go to university. I dropped out of my conservatory twice before I made it through. I read he’s a school teacher. Good with kids. I was never good with kids. There are pictures of him, Louis, I’ll type his name once more, with Claudia, the daughter I was never allowed to meet. He’s holding her hand.

A text message popped up on Louis’s screen, from Grace. She probably didn’t know he was still in the front yard.

Louis have you seen this article? Somebody at bible study told mama about it and she got it in her mind you’ve been cheating with Lestat

Another text, from one of his cousins

damn cuh i didn’t know you was out here stealing nigg*s lmaooooo who knew you had it like that

And another text, and another. New messages from numbers he had muted. Messages from numbers he’d never gotten texts from before.

“Louis,” Lestat said sharply, “Get in the car.”

Louis got in the car.

Chapter 24: I am no bird; and no net ensnares me

Chapter Text

Louis’s phone was unusable. He’d turned it off. Someone must have given out his number. He had his money on someone from church.

“Get him a new phone with a new number, now,” Lestat snapped at one of the assistants, who took Louis’s phone and headed out.

Their hotel room in Cleveland was full of people. Lestat was pacing back and forth and yelling, like that would make a difference.

Miri the publicist had flown in, a real sign of the times. She was a short Asian woman with a head of thick curly hair. She was sitting on the arm of the couch, watching Lestat pace, trying to get him to decide on a PR strategy.

“I think the strongest idea is a Prince Harry-style defense. He wrote a letter to the media asking them to be respectful of Meghan Markle, which went over great with the public. We can also mirror some of his more recent statements when talking about the racist nature of some of the online hate.”

“Just how much of it is racist?” Louis asked, more out of curiosity than anything. He was sitting on the couch while Lestat’s team worked around him. Ostensibly Louis was a part of this meeting, but he didn’t have much to say.

“A lot,” Miri said frankly.

“I want to sue him into the ground,” Lestat snarled.

“You’ve mentioned,” Miri replied, “The lawyers have been over the article with a fine tooth comb. There are no grounds.”

“Well find grounds, Miriam! Emotional distress or something!”

“Unlikely to work and extremely likely to make you look even worse. Millionaire rockstar sues broken-hearted violinist? Bad look.”

Lestat growled low in his throat and whirled around, beginning to pace again.

He’d been like this since he’d read the article in the car on the way to the airport in New Orleans. When they got back to Cleveland the hotel they’d been staying at had been mobbed, and they’d had to quickly move to another. Lestat barely slept. Louis hadn’t slept much either.

The night before, the moment Claudia went to bed, Louis locked himself and Lestat in their bedroom.

“I swear to god,” Louis said, his voice low, his eyes closed, “If you lied to me—”

“I didn’t,” Lestat said vehemently, “After the things I shared with you how could you doubt me?”

Louis’s eyes flew open in shock, “Are you f*cking serious right now? How could I doubt you? Did you or did you not lie to me about Nicki coming to the concert? Did you or did not fail to inform me you had been in a relationship with him since the day I met you!”

“It was not a relationship!”

“You gave him a place to live! You f*cked him regularly!”

“I have not slept with him in over a year! I told you that!”

“That’s not even the point,” Louis said, “The point is I have no reason to trust you.”

Lestat reared back, “I came clean Louis. One hundred percent. I explained the reasons for my being withholding, and as deeply misguided as they were I was sincere. I was ashamed of myself!”

“You should be!” Louis yelled, “Whether you were stepping out on him or stepping out with him doesn’t matter! It’s f*cked up!”

“I know this! I can’t change the past!”

“Do you even regret it? Treating all those people like that? Treating Maya like that?” Louis asked.

Lestat’s face went blank, “I’m not a monster Louis.”

Louis looked away, “Honestly right now I’m wondering if I’m a f*cking idiot for believing you won’t treat me like you’ve treated everyone who came before me.”

“I would never,” Lestat's voice was hard, “I have told you time and time again how great the love I have for you is, how much it has changed me.”

“I don’t want love to be the reason you don’t f*ck around on me! I want you not to do it because it’s wrong and you have a goddamn moral compass!” Louis said.

“Yes because there is such a thing. A perfect mechanism that points to the absolute correct decision,” Lestat said derisively.

“Don’t get f*cking philosophical on me,” Louis said, “Some sh*t is just obvious!”

“And I have made obvious mistakes, which you knew when you fell in love with me! When you agreed to marry me! What happened with Maya was one of the first personal things I ever told you!”

Louis balled up his fists, “I just would like to know you have a basic understanding of truth and lies. Right and wrong.”

“I am who I am Louis, and I’m doing the best I can.”

Louis pressed a hand to his forehead. He’d lost the thread of the argument.

“Look. I want to know if you were really stringing Nicki on for eighteen years. That matters.”

“No,” Lestat said firmly, “I broke up with him after Claudia was born, as I told you. I didn’t stop sleeping with him, which was obviously a mistake. But we were only actually together for six years.”

“Then why did you call him in June like it says in the article?”

Lestat went still. He turned away from Louis and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Before he spoke, he took a breath, “June 5th was the night I kissed you for the first time. The day before the tour started.”

Louis paused, he hadn’t made that connection, “Okay.”

Lestat crossed his arms in his lap. He spoke slowly, “That night when you found me in the garage and left to go to the store…I had this awful premonition that you might not come back. I’m not sure why. And I was already so in love with you that the idea filled me with dread. I resolved that if you did come back, I would make my declaration. I would not waste the chance to tell you how much I cared for you.”

Oh.

“I called Nicki then, waiting for you. I wanted to be completely free of entanglements, in case you wanted me to.”

Louis was silent for a long moment, absorbing this. How did Lestat always do that?Completely disarm him?

“I almost didn’t come back,” Louis admitted.

Lestat looked up sharply, “Why?”

Louis sighed, “Because I was so into you, and it was so hard. I thought there was no chance.”

The look on Lestat’s face was so sweet and earnest Louis felt the last of his anger cool. Lestat moved towards him, grasping his upper arms, “I know it is wrong for me to say that you make me want to be good as nothing ever has before. I know it reveals how deeply flawed a man I am. But it is the truth.”

Louis didn’t know what to say to that. He let Lestat hug him, cradle his head, stroke his neck.

“I am not lying to you. Nicolas is telling the tale that it serves him to tell. I cannot prove this. You must have faith in me. Let me prove what I can, which is that I am a changed man.”

He was right. If Louis was going to be with Lestat, he was going to have to trust him. They would have to be in this together. There was no alternative.

“And I will develop this precious moral compass of yours,” Lestat said lightly, “But only because I love you.”

“You’re a crazy person,” Louis said resignedly. Fondly.

“Yes. But you knew that.”

But Louis’s anger was good and hot again by mid-morning.

He and Claudia taking their usual exploratory walks around the city was out of the question, even with both of their bodyguards. Claudia knew something had happened, and if he was being honest with himself Louis knew there was no real way to keep her from reading the article. But now, after Miri had briefed them about what the public reaction was looking like, he was tempted to hide all her electronics.

“We’re just in the initial stages. So we’re seeing shock, confirmation bias, and sympathy. People are not thinking about this critically. The article was meant to make Nicki look like the victim, and it’s working,” she said, “This is the most volatile time, what happens in these initial days will cement the narrative. We need to move carefully.”

None of that had gotten through to Lestat.

“He twists everything. He twists years!” Lestat’s voice rose.

He kept f*cking yelling.

“Notice how he made no mention of the many people he slept with. No, just the ones I did! Lestat the evil bisexual—”

“Will you please just shut up and let the woman speak? Goddamn!” Louis cut him off.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprised.

Lestat’s paused in his pacing, and stared at Louis, jaw twitching, nostrils flaring. He breathed in hard through his nose, “Continue Miriam.”

Miri looked at Louis for another moment, then turned to Lestat, “Right. So I think you should take a protective stance. My fiance is unused to fame, and I don’t want him to become a victim of it. He doesn’t deserve to be punished for my mistakes. Etcetera etcetera.”

Lestat ran his hands through his hair, and closed his eyes, “So we don’t address the article specifically. Refute Nicolas’s claims.”

“No,” Miri said, “We make you look humble. You admit you made mistakes. But none of those mistakes should mean your family should suffer. That’s the line.”

Lestat nodded slowly, “Fine. Draft something for me to look at.”

“That makes me look weak,” Louis said. Everyone turned to him again, “He has people out here thinking I stole his would-be husband away. Masterminded a plot to make him disappear! I’m just supposed to take that?”

“Well,” Miri clasped her hands, “Frankly the article's emphasis on your age undercuts those accusations a bit. It only makes Lestat look more like a villain, which isn’t what we want, but your assumed naivete will protect you somewhat—”

Louis stood up, “Protect me? I can’t take Claudia for a walk! I’ve never even met this man! I didn’t even know about him when we got engaged!”

“I understand your frustrations, Louis,” Miri said, “But we can’t take that angle. You and Lestat need to present a united front.”

“I’m not talking about angles! I’m talking about the truth! You know what—” Louis headed towards the door, “Y’all can decide on all this sh*t without me.”

Lestat called after him, “Louis it is not a good idea for you to leave the hotel—”

“I’m just going in the f*cking hallway. Jesus,” Louis threw open the door and walked out, slamming it behind him.

He walked down the hallway, just wanting to move, shaking out his limbs. He was so angry he didn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t think. He felt like he was going to leap out of his skin.

What the f*ck was happening? Really and truly, what the f*ck was happening? A year ago he’d been happily teaching school, special to nobody but a handful of students. What did those students think of him now? Did they think he was what everyone was saying? A homewrecker? The new model? A pernicious slu*t? A dumb kid? An adulterer, like his own mama had called him?

Millions of people had an opinion on Louis now. Millions. And who was Louis? Just a person who had needed a job.

f*cking Nicki. f*cking Lestat.

Lestat, who’d seduced him. Who’d made Louis love him, god f*cking dammit. He loved him. He loved Claudia.

And even if he didn’t love them both, what would Louis’s life be if he walked away now? What school district was going to hire someone embroiled in this type of scandal? What parent?

He wanted to kick something. Or someone. He wanted to punch the wall.

Instead, he slid down it, sitting on the floor. He propped his folded arms on his knees, resting his head.

Louis had moved into Lestat’s house because he didn’t want to move home. He didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. Now look at him. Entirely dependent on Lestat, down to his physical safety.

His hands were shaking he was so angry. With f*cking Nicki, with Lestat, with the world, and of course, with himself. His own weakness had led him here.

Love had led him here.

He was angry at himself for that most of all. The love, with its deep roots like an ancient tree. It was new, this feeling. But it didn’t feel new. It felt like it’d always been there. He could barely remember how he’d lived without it. Louis always thought love was supposed to comfort. Supposed to bring clarity, a path forward. But no, it was just there, pulsing all through him, offering no wisdom.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

“Excuse me, sir?”

Louis looked up. It was one of the assistants, the guy, Mark.

“You don’t gotta call me sir,” Louis mumbled.

“Oh. Okay. Well, I got you a new phone. You have a new number and I switched all your contacts over and whatever was in the cloud,” Mark passed him a shiny new phone, as well as his old one, “I still wouldn’t turn that back on, just FYI.”

“Thanks,” Louis said, taking the phones. Mark nodded and walked down the hall to the suite. Louis slipped both phones into his pocket and put his head back down.

Actually, he should call Daniel back. He’d never thanked him for the heads up.

He texted him beforehand, letting him know about his number change, and asking if he could give him a call. Daniel said sure.

He answered on the first ring, “Hey. How you holding up?”

“It’s a good thing I’m not allowed outside 'cause I’d knock out the first person who looked at me sideways,” Louis said.

“Damn. That bad?”

“You should’ve seen the paparazzi at the airport. I thought they might try to break down the fence.”

Daniel sighed, “That f*cking sucks.”

Louis laughed, “It really does.”

When Louis’s laugh died down he got quiet. Daniel didn’t seem to mind. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Louis spoke again.

“You ever been through anything like this dating Armand?”

“Not really,” Daniel said, “I mean paparazzi, weird people with cell phones, yeah. But Lestat is a different level of famous.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, “I wish he wasn’t. I wish he was just…a guy.”

“What would that guy even be like?” Daniel asked.

Louis thought about it for a second, “I have no idea.”

Louis couldn’t imagine Lestat other than exactly who he was. He was so much himself. A complete original. Change any part of him and he wouldn’t be Lestat.

“He and Armand are both like that,” Daniel said, “They are what it says on the tin. Take it or leave it.”

“Yeah,” Louis closed his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about me anymore. How are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m the same as always.”

“What are you always like?”

“Kinda pissed off and pretty tired,” Daniel said.

Louis laughed.

“Louis.”

Louis looked up. It was Lestat, calling him from down the hall. Louis moved the phone away.

“What?” he called back Lestat.

“We’ve decided on a strategy. I’d like you to hear it.”

“Fine.”

He put the phone back to his ear, “I gotta go. I’m needed in the war room.”

“Godspeed soldier.”

Louis smiled, “Hey, Daniel. Thanks for being so nice to me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Are you always this nice to people you’ve only known for a week?”

“Definitely not. So take that for the compliment it is,” Daniel said.

Louis’s smile widened, “I definitely do.”

“Louis,” Lestat called again.

“Go report for duty,” Daniel said.

“Aye, sir.”

Louis hung up. He got to his feet and walked down the hallway to Lestat.

Lestat came out of the suite completely and shut the door behind him.

“I thought you wanted me in the meeting,” Louis said.

“I do. I just—” Lestat reached for him, slipping his arms around his waist. He bent his head to Louis’s shoulder, nuzzling his face against his neck. Louis released a long breath, some tension leaving him. He wrapped his arms around Lestat, smoothing his hands up and down his back.

Lestat took a deep breath, drawing Louis closer, “I love you so much.”

f*cking love.

“I love you too,” Louis said, smoothing his hand down Lestat’s hair. Lestat squeezed him even tighter for a second, then released him, straightening.

“Who were you chatting with? Grace?” Lestat asked as he opened the door.

“No. Daniel,” Louis said. He saw Lestat’s face cloud briefly as he entered the suite.

The plan was this. Lestat would release a statement acknowledging he had made many mistakes in his past but offer no specifics. He would emphasize how distressed he was that Louis had been dragged into the middle of this. That Louis was a normal person who, through simply falling in love, was now facing the immense pressure of widespread public scrutiny. Lestat was worried about his family's safety and mental health. He would ask for grace, for respect.

Who knew if that would work? There were plans if it did and plans if it didn’t. There were backup plans for those plans. They could push the love story angle. Jaded single dad finds happiness for the first time with a wholesome southern boy. They could lean into the scandal, dialing up the whole sex god schtick. After all, what kind of man could keep someone on the hook for eighteen years? If things got really dire, they could potentially do a sit-down with Oprah. Her people weren’t uninterested.

Miri also thought it would be a good idea for Lestat to bring Claudia on stage at his next show. He’d done it before, so it wouldn’t look insincere, and nothing softened a man’s image like an adorable child.

“I hate that we’re talking about using Claudia in a PR strategy,” Louis said.

“I get it,” Miri said, “But this is hardly the first time Claudia has been involved in a PR strategy.”

Louis had a headache.

The show wasn’t for four days. They’d planned on relaxing in the suite, the three of them, watching tv and ordering room service. But now the living room was full of people workshopping a statement.

“She was supposed to join me onstage anyway,” Lestat said, “She didn’t join me in Nice. I wouldn’t want to change because of this.”

Louis nodded, “Okay.”

He got up from the couch and walked to Claudia’s room, entering and shutting the door behind him.

She had the lights off and her iPad too close to her face. He heaved a sigh. They’d barely gotten any schoolwork done during this nonsense.

“Hey honey, we gotta talk,” Louis said.

She slipped off her headphones and flung her iPad aside.

“I read it,” she said.

Louis’s heart twisted.

“I really wish you hadn’t.”

She sat up and shrugged, “I was going to find out one way or another.”

“Yeah,” Louis sat down on the edge of her bed.

“A lot of people are mad at Lestat on the internet,” she said.

“Please, please stop reading stuff like that,” Louis said, putting a hand on hers, “Please. It’s not good for you.”

“Most of them are right to be mad. Lestat’s an asshole. They’re wrong about you though,” she said, flopping back down.

“Claudia,” Louis said, “Don’t say that about your father.”

“It’s true,” Claudia said.

“It’s not. He’d made a lot of mistakes. He’s not perfect. But he loves us and he’s trying.”

Claudia just looked at him, not saying anything. She’d sounded so jaded, calling her dad an asshole. All Louis had wanted to do was bring them together as a family and his presence had inadvertently made everything worse.

“He wants to take you onstage at the next show. Says he’s not changing the plan.”

“Cool,” Claudia said, picking up her iPad.

Louis wished they were back at the house in LA, but without all the people coming in and out all the time. That they could have just a couple of normal days.

Four days later, Louis and Claudia were sitting on the floor of her bedroom, trying to get through a science lesson. They hadn’t left the hotel since they’d gotten back from New Orleans. When Louis wasn’t trying to get Claudia to pay attention to her schoolwork, he was in his own room avoiding all the tour and publicity business. Louis was going kind of stir-crazy. He told himself that was stupid. It had only been four days. Maybe it was just because he couldn’t leave. Well, it was more accurate to say that everyone kept advising him not to leave. Lestat's statement hadn't hurt but had done little to stem the tide of vitriol. It was clear that they would have to put out a counternarrative. Speculation was rampant.

The paparazzi had found them at this hotel yesterday, but so far no mob, so it wasn’t worth it to move. They were leaving for Maryland the day after tomorrow anyway. Maybe he would be able to leave the hotel in Maryland. Dear god let him be able to leave the hotel in Maryland.

“Louis.”

He turned around. It was Lestat.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need you to join us,” Lestat looked very grave. What now?

Louis nodded. He gave Claudia a worksheet and followed Lestat out.

There were fewer people here today, but there was still Roget, the assistants, Miri, and her people. They all looked up when Louis entered.

“Tell Louis what you’ve told me,” Lestat’s voice was hard.

“Right,” Miri looked grim, “I’ve gotten wind of another article, and this one may be a doozy.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, “What?”

Was the article they were already dealing with not a doozy?

“This one isn’t a personal essay. This is a journalist, investigating Nicki’s claims and looking into Lestat. Thoroughly. We know she’s already reached out to Lily Carter and her parents. We don’t know how receptive they were, but they’ve been contacted. And you need to be prepared for them to look into you.”

“What do you mean?" Louis said, his voice sounding dazed to his own ears.

“I have a hunch she’s going to try to frame you as a victim. I don’t know for sure, but it’s an expose on Lestat. She’s not interested in presenting a wholesome love story.”

Miri leaned forward, “The first thing you need to do is contact everyone in your family and impress upon them that they must not speak to anyone. Anyone. No matter what.”

She kept talking, but Louis barely heard her. He really didn’t think it could get much worse. But now there was someone out there intent on exposing every mistake his fiancé had ever made, and they considered Louis one of them.

He walked away, not really registering Lestat’s calls after him, and shoved out of the suite He paced rapidly up and down the hall. There was a very strong possibility he was having a panic attack of some sort. Did he really have to call his family? Grace would be the only one to take it seriously. What would his mother do? Dear lord, what would Paul do? He didn’t even want to think about his cousins. What kind of questions would this person even ask?

It occurred to Louis that he knew an investigative reporter. He called Daniel.

Louis blurted out a torrent of words before Daniel even said hello, “Hey, you are probably so sick of me and I don’t blame you but you’re the only investigative reporter I know and I’m gonna be investigated and I wanted to ask is there any way to stop that from happening?”

“Louis—“

“Cause Miri the publicist thinks they’re gonna make me seem like a victim. And I’m trying to think of something more humiliating than that, but I can’t.”

“Louis…”

“And I’m trapped in this hotel. Everyone keeps telling me what a bad idea it is to leave. And I don’t know. I’d kind of really like to leave I think.”

“Then leave. Put on a ski mask though,” Daniel said.

Louis paused.

“That was a joke,” Daniel said.

Louis was quiet a moment longer.

“A joke. Louis. As in I wasn’t serious.”

“Yeah,” Louis said finally, “I just don’t know what to do. And there are so many business people around. I want to go home. Actually, I don’t know what I mean by that.”

Daniel exhaled long and hard, “Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Louis said, catching his breath. Apparently, he'd needed to say all that to someone.

“Don’t apologize. It’s nice to know someone's life is harder than mine.”

A laugh bubbled up in Louis's chest.

“You know….You could come visit me. If you want to,” Daniel said.

Louis’s lips parted in surprise.

“Only if you want to,” Daniel repeated, “But I got a comfy couch, no one’s gonna pay attention to you in my neighborhood, and we can talk this thing out.”

That sounded….really nice. Like exactly what he needed. To stay in a normal house. And talk to a normal person. But…

“I can’t. I got Claudia. And Lestat probably wouldn’t think it’s a good idea while things are so crazy,” Louis said reluctantly.

“Alright. It was just an idea. We can talk over the phone. I was just attempting to fix your very obvious cabin fever.”

Daniel probably meant he should take the jet to come visit him. Which would be a whole thing. Paparazzi on the tarmac. Paparazzi trailing him to Daniel’s house. Double the paparazzi if Lestat insisted he come along. But what if Louis just…went. Wore and hoodie and glasses and got on a commercial flight. Let Lestat know he’d gone when he was on the plane.

“That’s incredibly nice. I really want to. But Claudia,” Louis said.

“I’m pretty sure her father and a minimum of three security guards are around but sure.”

Louis looked back at the door of the suite. There were three people sitting on the floor around the coffee table monitoring social media. Claudia hadn’t spoken to Lestat in three days. Lestat was furious, Louis could feel it radiating off him.

He just wanted a break. Just the idea of getting out of there made Louis breathe easier. If he thought about it too much he wouldn’t go. And then he might go crazy.

“I’m gonna schedule a flight,” Louis said, “Is there a time that’s okay for you?”

“I have today and tomorrow off. I’ll send you my address. Show up any time.”

“Okay. I can’t thank you enough,” Louis said.

“You can. Too much gratitude irritates me.”

Louis laughed, “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Chapter 25: reproach of my dependence II

Chapter Text

“Hey man,” Daniel called to him, ambling down his stoop. Louis had texted him he’d be there soon and Daniel had come down to meet him. But Daniel’s hey wasn’t so much welcoming as skeptical.

“Yeah?” Louis called back, walking towards Daniel.

“Why the f*ck did you just get out of an Uber?” Daniel asked, looking down at Louis from the last step.

“Uh—“

“Another question. Where is your security?”

Louis’s mouth turned downwards.

“Third question. What kind of plane did you fly here in exactly? Oh, and fourth question. Does your fiancé know you're here?”

Daniel must have been able to read the guilt on Louis’s face even behind his dark sunglasses.

“Well sh*t,” Daniel said, “Come on, let’s get the f*ck inside.”

Louis explained to Daniel as they climbed up the stairs.

After hanging up with Daniel, Louis bought a ticket for that very afternoon. He’d be out of this godforsaken hotel and in New York by six in the evening. He didn’t bother with his luggage. He just packed what he needed for one night in his backpack. Just one night. That’s all.

He couldn’t leave without telling Claudia. Not telling Lestat was to avoid an argument. There was no excuse not to tell her. Especially not since she was already well aware that lots of things were going wrong. What if she thought Louis bailed? He didn’t want her thinking that even for a second. She probably wouldn’t tell Lestat anyway.

He went into her room, already dressed to go in his big black hoodie, awful in this weather but good to hide inside. Claudia was lying on her stomach in bed, reading a book.

“Hey,” he said. She glanced up.

“I’m gonna go visit a friend in New York. Stay the night. He’s gonna help me with some of the craziness that’s going on,” Louis said. Help him and give him a break. Claudia considered him for a moment.

“Okay,” she nodded, “You want me to keep it a secret from Lestat right?”

A pang hit his body. Jesus. Hearing her say that. He’d almost pit them against each other. Almost had her telling Lestat lies. Louis shook his head.

“No. No. Of course, I’m telling him. I’m just telling you first.”

She raised her brows, “He’s gonna say no.”

“I don’t need his permission, Claudia,” Louis said.

“Okaayyyy,” she said, looking back down at her book, her expression skeptical.

“I’ll be back late tomorrow,” Louis said, “I’ll miss you and I love you.”

“Miss you too,” she mumbled almost under her breath. Louis smiled as he left the room.

Lestat was working in another suite a few doors down. There was some issue with costumes being damaged in transit. He was being fit for new ones. Louis put his book bag down outside the door.

The guard let him in. Lestat was sitting on the couch, leaning over the coffee table and looking at sketches. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear as he leaned forward, his eyes intent. Louis stood there a moment, tracing the perfection of Lestat's profile with his eyes.

Lestat looked over, smiling when he saw him.

“Hey,” Louis smiled back, “Can I talk to you real quick?”

“Of course,” Lestat stood and lead him into a corner by the window, “Is anything the matter?”

“No. I just wanted to let you know I’ve decided to go visit a friend for the night.”

Lestat frowned, “What?”

“Daniel. Armand’s Daniel. He said he could talk through this whole investigation thing with me. And I think that would make me feel a lot better. So I’m gonna go see him tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“No,” Lestat shook his head, “No that is a terrible idea.”

“I’ll be back before the show even starts,” Louis said.

“That is not my concern. I—“

“Les. Sorry to interrupt but it’s pressing. LA Times needs to know if we want to comment in like, the next five minutes,” Miri was standing in the open doorway.

Lestat ran his hands through his hair. He looked back at Louis.

“Wait here. I’ll be back shortly to finish this discussion,” Lestat said sternly. He turned and followed Miri out of the room.

Louis followed Lestat. He and Miri had gone to the left, towards the other suite. Louis grabbed his backpack and took off to the right.

He put his phone on silent in the Uber to the airport. By the time he’d touched down, Lestat had realized he’d left. Louis read all his texts and listened to his voicemails. But they were all just demands he come back. Louis didn’t like upsetting him. Didn’t like hearing the worried note in his voice. Louis texted him once.

I just need a pause okay? I’m here and I’m safe. Please don’t keep calling and texting unless it’s an emergency

“So you took an Uber to the airport. Walked through the airport. Got on a commercial flight. Got off the flight. Walked through another airport. Got in an Uber here. All without your personal security or the agreement of your fiancé and employer.”

Daniel shut the apartment door behind them. His apartment was a long and narrow space with smooth white walls, high ceilings, and a wall of windows. Unsurprisingly Daniel had a ton of books. Not on shelves, in a long row of teetering stacks on the left-hand wall.

Louis walked into the main living space. A big worn red rug covered much of the wood floor, and a low dark yellow couch faced a tv. Daniel gestured for Louis to sit on the couch, and sat in a leather chair opposite.

“Yes. That is exactly what I did,” Louis said.

“Hmm. Stupid,” Daniel said.

Louis sighed.

“Very very stupid. Someone definitely noticed you.”

“I really don’t think—“

Daniel cut him off, “When was the last time you were in a supermarket Louis?”

“What? Why?” Louis’s brow creased.

“You know at checkouts? Where they keep the tabloids? Yeah. It’s pretty much wall-to-wall your face.”

Louis’s shoulders sagged.

“Someone definitely noticed you.”

Louis bent his head, “I don’t even care.”

“Sure,” Daniel scoffed.

Louis looked up, “I mean it. What do I care about some random who saw me at the airport? Am I not allowed to go to airports?”

“Not when you're engaged to France’s belated answer to Elvis.”

Louis made a face, “He’s nothing like Elvis.”

“You’re right. Elvis actually had a child bride. Your guy is just coming close.”

Louis slumped back on the couch, “I'm a grown man.”

“Yeah. Cause grown men say that all the time.”

Louis put a couch cushion over his face.

“You f*cked up kid.”

“I got that. Thank you, Daniel,” Louis said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“You're welcome.”

Louis moved the pillow off his face and sat up, “Thank you though. For real. But I really don’t care if someone got a picture of me looking like sh*t in the airport.”

“Not even if they point out that your feeble disguise and lack of security make it look like you’re sneaking off? Accuse you of cheating? Or of jilting Lestat?”

“I’m not cheating or jilting Lestat,” Louis said, “That’s the truth and that’s what matters.”

“Boy do you have a lot to learn,” Daniel crossed one leg over the other.

“I had to get out of there,” Louis said.

Daniel shrugged, “Well you're here now. Want to order Indian food?”

They ordered Indian food.

Over dinner and into the night Daniel told Louis in great detail what he would do if he were writing a piece on Lestat. The questions he would ask. The public records he would look into. The people he’d contact. He helped Louis formulate a mass text to his family to best explain to them why speaking with reporters was a bad idea. They talked through all the PR strategies Miri’s people had come up with, Daniel giving his opinion as well as some of his own ideas.

By the time the night was over, and Louis was falling asleep on Daniel’s couch, which was comfy, as he’d promised, Louis felt he was standing on much more solid ground. Daniel was a godsend really. Talking with a neutral third party who knew this business had been immeasurably helpful. He felt more down to earth than he’d felt in days. Talking with Daniel, who he’d grown to like immensely in such a short time, had been a pleasure.

In the morning, Daniel ran and got them coffee and bagels. Louis read the texts Lestat had sent overnight. He was angry. Louis knew he would be. It made his chest tight.

The last text read I land in New York in five minutes. Send me Molloy’s address.

Louis felt a burst of irritation. He didn’t ask to be picked up. He could make his own way back.

No. Send me which airport you’ll be at I’ll meet you.

No. Send me Molloy’s address.

Louis was angry now.

I’m leaving Daniel’s now. So either send me the address or I’ll just wander the streets of Brooklyn until you do.

There was a long wait for Lestat’s next text. Louis could practically hear him raging from the sky.

Fine.

Lestat sent him the address.

Louis felt triumphant for a moment, but it faded. A petty victory. He didn’t want to fight about this at all.

The door opened. Daniel was back.

“Hey. Lestat’s here.”

“Does he have a gun?” Daniel asked causally, putting the food and coffee on the counter.

Louis smiled, “No I meant he’s at an airport. He came to pick me up.”

“Surprised he’s not gonna try and beat my ass.”

“He might’ve. I didn’t tell him where you live though, I can get to the airport myself.”

“Another Uber,” Daniel shook his head.

Louis shrugged, “The damage has been done. If there’s any damage at all.”

“Well, Armand will tell him where I live. And he’ll rent the marines and send them to beat my ass.”

“I’ll ask him not to.”

Louis gathered his stuff and Daniel walked him to the door downstairs.

“Thanks again. So much. If you ever need anything I’ll hope you let me return the favor,” Louis said.

Daniel shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

But it was a really big deal. Louis hadn’t had a friend in a long time.

Impulsively, he hugged Daniel, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pulling him tight. Daniel was surprised, but soon he hugged Louis back.

“I liked having you over. Really, don’t mention it,” Daniel said.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to annoy you with gratitude,” Louis said, smiling up at him as they slid apart, “So thank you again,” Louis pressed his lips to Daniel’s cheek.

To his surprise, as Louis moved away, Daniel turned his head and caught Louis’s mouth with his own. Louis froze. After the briefest press of his lips, Daniel pulled away.

“Ughhhhhh,” Daniel groaned as he backed up, “sh*t. Sorry. Sorry. sh*t.”

Louis laughed out of pure surprise, “It’s okay.”

“Damn,” Daniel ran a hand through his hair, “And I’d promised myself I’d be on my best behavior.”

“It’s fine really,” Louis said, trying to reassure him, “It was only a second.”

“Still,” Daniel looked pained, “We’re friends, yeah? Let’s not let this…”

“We’re good,” Louis nodded vigorously. He wanted to move on rapidly. Flit over it like it hadn’t even happened. Not let this f*ck anything up.

Like Lestat had tried to do with Nicki.

Well, sh*t. He was going to have to tell Lestat, wasn’t he? And he’d lose the first friend he'd made in forever.

But Louis smiled anyway and squeezed Daniel’s shoulder, “We’ll talk soon. Thanks again.”

“Yeah,” Daniel ran his hands through his hair again, sighing.

The ride to the airport was long, and there had been an accident, so they moved at a crawl for nearly an hour. Louis felt heavy. The visit had been so nice, only to be soured at the last minute. Daniel would probably ghost him since he felt weird about it. And he’d have to have a fight with Lestat. He was tired of it before it even began.

They were almost at the airport when Louis’s phone went off.

I’m so f*cking sorry.

It was from Daniel, and he’d sent a link.

If Louis never saw a Twitter link again he could die happy.

They took a long minute to load, but Louis already knew. Four pictures. Louis reaching for Daniel. Louis kissing Daniel’s cheek. Daniel kissing Louis. Louis smiling up at him as they moved apart.

The text above the pictures: Y’all are never going to believe who I saw in my building

Louis pressed his lips together hard, inhaled deep. But the tears came anyway.

He thanked the Uber driver. Walked into the airport. Went through security. All the while pretending there weren’t tears streaming down his cheeks and his voice wasn’t choked. What else could he do? A golf cart drove him across the tarmac to Lestat’s jet. There was an SUV waiting beside it.

Louis wiped his tears as he walked up the steps to the jet. He took a deep breath.

Lestat was sitting in one of the chairs at the front of the plane, leaning to one side on his elbow. There was no one else on board. Louis didn’t even see any crew members. Had he left Claudia in Cleveland? Lestat turned his head to Louis as he walked in.

“Hey,” Louis said, his voice rough, “Have you seen the tweet? Of the Daniel pictures?”

Lestat just looked at him, face composed, his eyes cool. Louis had expected his fury. For him to rage and yell. He sort of welcomed it. He knew he f*cked up. He deserved some rage. The silence was deeply unnerving.

“You have to — I’m so sorry. I was too surprised to push him away or anything but he stopped right away. He was pretty embarrassed.”

Lestat just stayed silent. He clasped his hands together.

“And I guess the bigger problem is that there are pictures online,” Louis said, “And this isn’t gonna help our current situation.”

Lestat tilted his head. Then he rose smoothly to his feet. He looked Louis dead in the eyes when he said, “You’re fired.”

A long, hollow silence.

Louis felt as if a bomb had gone off, and he had been momentarily deafened by it. He opened and closed his hands. He took a half step forward, then back. He put a hand on his stomach.

“What?” he asked, his voice faint.

“Your services are no longer needed. There is a car waiting for you outside. Roget will send you your things when you provide him with an address.”

Louis shook his head slowly, “I—what do you—“

“I’m afraid I have to leave promptly. I have a show to put on. So if you could…” Lestat swept his arm towards the plane’s open door.

Louis was utterly blank. But he felt some part of his heart crack and bubble over. Threatening to force its way out. Pleas. Explanations. Apologies. Tears. Caresses.

But some more forceful part of Louis clamped his mouth shut, pivoted him on his heel, and sent him walking down the stairs. That part ensured he was in the car and driving away from the airport before he gave in once more to tears.

Chapter 26: if all the world hated you, and believed you wicked

Chapter Text

Nothing.

Then a job. 100k. A free place to live.

A fiancé. A daughter. A future. And love.

Then nothing again.

Louis was lying on Daniel’s couch, staring at the ceiling. A tree outside fluttered in the breeze, and the shadows of the leaves danced.

“I don’t know,” Daniel was on the phone in his kitchen, “I don’t know. I’m asking you to call him.”

There was some song playing outside, far away, faint. It sounded like an ice cream truck. Were there still ice cream trucks? Louis hadn’t seen one in years.

“I don’t want to get into all that,” Daniel said.

Louis shifted under the blanket Daniel had thrown over him. It wasn’t cold in here. It seemed like Daniel did it to have something to do.

“He’s comatose on my couch, quit being an asshole and call him,” Daniel’s voice was sharp, “Fine. Bye.”

The driver Lestat had waiting for Louis on the tarmac asked where he should drop him. Louis gave him the only address he knew in New York.

Daniel’s lips parted in shock when he opened his door to find Louis standing outside, clutching at the straps of his backpack. Louis knew he looked a mess. He’d cried humiliatingly hard for much of the ride there, embarrassed to be heard by the stoic driver. Claudia. He needed to call Claudia. He forced himself to stop crying, rolling down the car window and filling his lungs with cool air, letting the wind dry the tears.

He rolled the window down, his finger hovering over his phone screen. He had to do this.

She picked up quickly, “What?”

Her voice was nervous.

Louis’s voice caught in his throat, “Hey, honey…I…I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

He tried to steady his voice.

You’re fired.

For a moment he could not speak.

“He dumped you.”

Claudia’s voice was flat. Unsurprised.

Louis closed his eyes against the bolt of pain that coursed through him.

“Yes. Yes, he did. But he also…honey he let me go.”

There was a long pause.

“What does that mean?” She asked, her voice sharp.

“It means I’m not…I’m not your teacher anymore.”

Silence.

“But I’m still your person. I’ll always be your person. I swear. I just…I’m so sorry Claudia.”

Silence.

“Don’t hate him okay? Try not to hate him. I made mistakes,” he tried not to tinge the words with his bitterness, “It isn’t all his fault. I’m so sorry I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I…I wish I could fix it.”

Silence. And then the line went dead. Louis could hold back tears no longer.

Louis was surprised when they got back to Daniel’s building. He’d lost all track of time.

“What the f*ck happened?” Daniel asked, his voice soft.

The words stuck in Louis’s throat. To say it out loud. To admit that Lestat giveth and Lestat taketh away, and Louis could do nothing about it. That he had absolutely no power over his own life. He never had.

Louis gritted his teeth, “He fired me.”

Daniel’s mouth opened wider, “Jesus f*cking Christ. Get inside. I still don’t know which neighbor of mine is the f*cking tweeting asshole.”

Louis had been lying on the couch for some hours now. Daniel stuck him there and went out, coming back with bags of food and toiletries.

“I hope this is fine for your hair,” Daniel said, lining up the products he’d bought on the coffee table. Hair stuff. Body wash. Face wash. Deodorant. Toothpaste. Toothbrush. Lotion.

Louis rubbed his eyes, “You didn’t have to do all that. Imma be out of your hair soon.”

Daniel ignored him and started making calls. Louis wasn’t really listening. He was observing the pain. Very physical. More physical than any emotion he’d ever felt. Whole body seizing, knocking him breathless. Surely he couldn’t stand this. Who could stand this? The tears, and the gasping sobs. And Daniel would stop talking and peek in on him. Louis would wave him off. There was nothing he could do about this pain, except bear it.

Then the pain would ebb. The tears would stop. Louis would go slightly numb. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about her. Or it will all come back. But of course that was impossible. So the pain would rise again.

Daniel walked into the living room and sat across from him in his leather chair.

“I talked to Armand. He’s gonna talk to Lestat about all this sh*t. He might fly out to see him, he’s gonna let me know.”

Louis nodded slightly. Didn’t say anything.

“Do you have any other clothes besides the ones in your backpack?”

Louis shook his head.

“Okay,” Daniel stood up and walked down the short hallway that his bedroom and bathroom were down, soon coming back.

“I laid out some clothes and a towel in the bathroom. Drop the clothes you're wearing outside the door. I’m gonna wash all you have with you.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Louis. I feel so f*cking bad you have no idea. Just let me do this small thing. Alright?”

Louis let him. He dropped his clothes outside the bathroom door, and Daniel washed them and the ones in his backpack. Louis stood too long under the hot water. Daniel’s clothes were too big. Bigger on him than Lestat's clothes had been. Louis braced himself against the memory.

Louis walked out of the bathroom. Daniel had made up the couch for him to sleep on. Louis stood staring at it.

Daniel came out of the kitchen, “Okay, so you have a few—“

Daniel saw Louis and stopped talking. Hisbrows drew together.

“What?” Louis asked.

“You just look…f*ck you look like a kicked puppy. Sorry. Sorry, asshole thing to say.”

Louis waved his hand. Didn’t matter.

Daniel approached him slowly, “Can I—I know that this was—Can I?”

Daniel slowly extended his arms, encircling Louis. Louis didn’t stop him. Daniel drew Louis close to him. He smoothed his hands up and down Louis’s back.

“I’m so sorry man. This is my fault completely. I’m gonna do everything I can. I swear,” Daniel said softly.

Louis rested his head on Daniel’s shoulder. Closed his eyes. Daniel was warm and strong, and stable. Louis felt the tears return. He shuddered slightly. Heartache crested in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Louis snuffled, backing up out of the circle of Daniel’s arms, “I’m always crying on your shirts.”

“Literally never apologize to me again in your life,” Daniel said, “I’m in permanent apology debt.”

Louis laughed, a weak, unnatural sound. He swiped at his cheeks.

“It’s not all your fault.”

“Don’t—“

“It isn’t. He didn’t have to—“ Louis inhaled, his heart squeezing. Lestat could've heard him out. Lestat could’ve believed him despite how bad it looked. Lestat could have loved him enough to do either. Louis had loved him enough to do both.

Lestat didn’t have to fire Louis. He didn’t have to treat Louis like there was nothing between them but money and authority.

“Get some sleep,” Daniel said, “We can talk in the morning. I’ve been calling around. You have options.”

Louis nodded. He didn’t feel like he had options.

Daniel went to bed too, even though it was pretty early in the evening. Louis watched the light of passing cars on the living room ceiling. Music, different music from down the block. And voices. Loud, happy voices. Someone was having a party.

When Louis’s mother had cut him off, he’d been pricked all over with the strangest sensation. Like he was falling very fast from very high up, and nothing and no one was going to break his fall. He couldn’t name that feeling at the time, but he could now that it had returned. Abandonment.

Louis slept until noon. Daniel wasn’t there when he woke.

Louis picked up his phone. It was dead. He’d forgotten to charge it.

He plugged it in, waiting for the screen to light up, his heart in his throat.

Plenty of notifications. None from Lestat. None from Claudia. Louis hated himself for his hope.

Daniel texted him that he had to go to work. Roget was asking where to send his luggage, his tone apologetic. Calls and texts from Grace. A call and a voicemail from Miri. What did she want?

Louis listened to the voicemail.

“Hey Louis, it’s Miri. I heard about you and Lestat and I wanted to say I’m so sorry. I’m gonna work to protect you both through this. I just wanted to touch base with you about the possibility of signing an NDA. We’ll be very generous with compensation. Let me know.”

It took Louis a moment to understand what he was feeling. He’d been so heavy and listless that this new fire was disorienting. He was furious.

A f*cking NDA.

Louis’s phone lit up in his hand. It was Grace.

Louis answered. He stood up and started pacing back and forth.

“Grace?”

“Louis! Thank god—“

“He wants me to sign an NDA Grace. A f*cking NDA. Like I’m the f*cking babysitter he got tired of screwing and wants to sweep under the rug! Which I am!”

“Oh.”

“He fired me! My lips barely touched someone else’s and he fired me! Threw me off his plane like I was nothing! Nothing!”

His chest was burning.

“Do you know the sh*t I put up with for him! The sh*t I would’ve continued to put up with for him! And I f*ck up once! Once! And I’m kicked to the motherf*cking curb!”

“Oh, Louis…”

“I loved him! And I wasn’t worth the five minutes it would’ve taken to hear me out!”

Louis sat down hard. Rubbed the heel of his hand against his sternum.

“One time,” furious tears started to gather in his eyes, “One time during a fight I said we should break up…” Louis swallowed, “and after he said I couldn’t give up on him so easily. That he couldn’t take it.”

Grace was silent for a long moment. Then she sighed, “I’m so sorry honey.”

“He left me here,” Louis said, voice breaking.

It had only been a day and he was already sick of crying, and there was no end in sight.

“Louis, would you come home? Just for a little bit? I can’t come to you and I just…”

Louis closed his eyes.

“Can’t do that Grace,” he said softly, “Doubt Mama would even let me in the door anyway.”

“She would,” Grace said, “If it came down to it.”

“You don’t even sound like you believe that,” Louis collapsed onto the couch. He was getting real familiar with Daniel’s ceiling.

“Where are you right now?” Grace asked.

An absurd laugh bubbled up in Louis’s chest, “At the house of the guy I was caught kissing.”

“What? Are you serious?” Grace’s voice was incredulous.

“He’s the only person I know in New York Grace,” Louis said, “And bout one of the only friends I got.”

A sharp ache, unexpected and breathtaking, cut through Louis’s chest.

“I thought I was done being lonely Grace,” Louis said. He was a fool. Lestat had played him like a f*cking violin.

“I’m here Louis,” Grace said softly.

“I know. I know," Louis closed his eyes, "But Claudia. She don’t have nobody. And I made her all these promises I have no power to keep. I never had the power to keep them. I was an idiot to think I did.”

Louis couldn’t bear this actually.

“I love that little girl Grace. That’s my little girl. He took her from me! He knows how much I love her! He knows how much she needs me! She don’t have nobody Grace! Specially not him! And there is nothing I can do!”

His helplessness was total. His fury was total. And all of it amounted to nothing.

Louis spent a long time on the phone with Grace, insisting she talk about her life. That she tell him everything he’d missed out on in the past several months. It was almost distracting. Louis was a bad brother though. He’d missed so much, caught up in his own bullsh*t.

When the conversation began to wind down, Louis asked Grace, “You been online?”

She hesitated, “Yeah…”

“What they sayin’?”

“Uhhhh…”

“You don’t gotta tell me the worst of it. What’s happening though?”

“It’s just…really not good honestly Louis. And apparently, there are photos of the guy. What’s his name?”

“Daniel.”

“Yeah, Daniel, and Armand Taran, and Lestat together at events. So people know they know each other…”

Louis sighed.

“The term homie hopper might be being thrown around…”

Louis sat bolt upright, “Homie hopper?!”

“Ehhh…yeah.”

Louis burst into laughter. Hysterical, painful laughter, the kind that made you double over and slap your knees. The kind that hurt your stomach. Grace caught the laughter from him, and they wheezed together on the phone for a good ten minutes, the laughter dying down only to start up again. f*cking homie hopper. Goddamn.

“What is my life Grace?” Louis asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know Louis. But you gon be alright. I know it,” Grace said. She sounded like she meant it too.

Louis didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. Because what about Claudia?

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to her now Grace,” he said, the last of the laughter fading, the heartache pushing to the fore.

She knew who he meant, “I know. But you did the best you could.”

“I don’t know that I did,” Louis said. He should have done so much differently. So much.

“Can’t change any of it now,” Grace said, “You can only go forward.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, even though that seemed impossible. he took a deep breath, “I love you.”

“I love you too Louis.”

Until Daniel got home, Louis tried to distract himself. Watch TV. Read one of Daniel’s books. But the curiosity, masoch*stic curiosity, proved to be too much.

He googled, “Louis de Pointe du Lac.”

“Lestat de Lioncourt Cancels Cleveland Show After Fiance Louis de Pointe du Lac is Photographed Kissing Another Man”

“Who is Daniel Molloy? What We Know About the New Man Involved in the Lioncourt Du Lac Cheating Scandal”

“Lestat de Lioncourt Fans Are Blaming Louis de Pointe du Lac for Show Cancellation, and Are Worried More Cancellations Will Follow”

“Armand Taran Unfollows Lestat de Lioncourt on Instagram Amid Cheating Scandal”

“Lestat de Lioncourt and Louis de Pointe du Lac Complete Relationship Timeline”

“The Racist Backlash Against Louis de Pointe du Lac Is Everything Wrong with Social Media”

And on, and on, and on. Every major publication Louis had ever heard of and many more he hadn’t. The New York Times had posted a story an hour ago. Jesus.

Louis put his phone down, wishing he hadn’t done that. It felt like his life was over. Like the entire world was against him. What was he supposed to do? Move to some town in the middle of nowhere where no one cared about Lestat de Lioncourt? Did such a town exist? And would it have any other black people?

Daniel came home, a bag of takeout in hand, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Louis stood and followed him into the kitchen, “You're in the news.”

Daniel made a face, “Don’t look at that sh*t.”

“I should never have come here,” Louis said.

“Well I never should have f*cking kissed you,” Daniel's voice was sharp. He put the bag down and braced his arms on the counter, “Sorry.”

Louis shook his head. They stood there in silence for a moment.

“Why did you? Kiss me,” Louis asked.

Daniel stood up, brushed his hands through his hair, and smiled ruefully, “Cause I got a f*ckin crush. A sh*tty excuse if I’ve ever heard one.”

Louis didn’t know what to say to that. Didn't know what to do with it. He just nodded.

Daniel didn't seem to need a response. He dropped his arms heavily, “Why did you come back here?”

Louis crossed his arms and looked down at the floor. He thought about it for a second, and shrugged, “I needed a friend.”

Daniel’s face softened, “Jeez kid. With friends like me who needs enemies?”

That got a small laugh out of Louis. He shook his head, “It’s good to know I guess. That I meant so little to him. Better to know before I married him.”

Daniel made a face.

“What?” Louis asked.

“Look,” Daniel leaned forward, “I strongly suspect he didn’t react the way he did because you don’t matter to him.”

Louis’s heart pulsed. But no. No.

“Doesn’t matter. He made sure I knew he’s everything and I’m nothing. Shook me off like I was dust on his feet. Don’t matter why he did it.”

Daniel looked at him for a moment but didn't respond. He started to unpack the food.

“Burgers and fries okay?” he asked.

Louis nodded.

Louis picked at his food, sitting cross-legged in front of Daniel’s coffee table, Daniel in the chair across from him.

“So look,” Daniel said, “I’ve been calling around all day, only people I trust, people who can be discrete, looking into this expose for you.”

sh*t. Louis had completely forgotten about the expose.

“Sounds like it’s postponed. Odds are the writer is planning on incorporating this whole current situation into the piece.”

Louis lowered his head to the table.

“Yeah, I know,” Daniel continued, “But this can be a good thing. We’ve got time for you to make a move before it comes out.”

Louis looked up, “What do you mean?”

Daniel licked ketchup off his finger, “Armand knows a lot of publicity people, he’s gonna put you in touch with someone. He’s coming over tonight to lay it out.”

Louis stared at Daniel in confusion, “Why would he do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Daniel looked equally confused.

“Lestat is his best friend. And everyone thinks I cheated on him.”

“Armand knows Lestat. And he knows you. And me,” Daniel said like that explained everything.

Louis’s brows knit, “But…he’s your boyfriend. And you kissed me.”

Daniel raised his brows, “He told me he once offered to quote “bed you a hundred times” end quote. And you think he has a problem with a peck on the lips?”

Louis shook his head, “I…I can’t afford a PR person.”

“Louis,” Daniel leaned forward, “He wants to help and you should let him.”

Louis couldn't argue with that. He needed all the help he could get.

When Armand arrived, he smiled at Louis like he was an old friend he hadn’t seen in years, “It’s good to see you, despite the circ*mstances.”

Louis accepted his warm hug, baffling though it was. Armand moved easily through Daniel’s apartment, obviously very familiar with everything, taking off his shoes and getting himself a drink. He was completely calm. Daniel was right, he didn’t seem upset at all.

Armand faced Louis on the couch, “So, shall we get started?”

Louis suddenly felt very tired. He wanted all of this to be over. He wanted to never hear the phrase public relations again. He wanted to never listen to any rock music by any musician. He wanted to watch a movie with Claudia. He wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep for a hundred years.

But he just nodded wearily, “Thank you so much for this.”

Armand just smiled softly.

“Why are you helping me?” Louis asked, still not understanding.

Armand’s smile widened slightly, “I rather like you, Louis. And I love Lestat very much. And one day he is going to hate himself for what he’s done, and be grateful that I was there to clean up some of his mess.”

Louis teared up once more, to his consternation. He brushed them away harshly. Louis didn’t believe that for a second. He couldn’t let himself believe it.

Armand’s plan was simple. Louis would work up a statement with the aid of a PR friend of Armand’s who’d offered to help. Just one statement. Louis wasn’t a celebrity with a PR machine behind him, and people shouldn’t think he was. He didn’t want to be a public figure. Louis wanted to fade back into the comfort of oblivion.

The PR friend would release it for him and make sure the right outlets got a hold of it. That was it. But Louis would have his say.

Armand called his PR friend, and he and Daniel stayed up late with Louis, working out what amounted to a few short sentences. It would go out tomorrow afternoon.

Louis was not as poor as the last time he’d been abandoned. He hadn’t paid for virtually anything during his time as Lestat’s employee, so his salary was just sitting in the bank, a good chunk of change. Enough to live on for six or seven months, if it took him that long to find another job. It probably would.

The next morning, Louis went for a walk to distract himself before the statement went out. Daniel had given him a more lightweight hoodie, and he wore his dark glasses. Daniel hadn’t wanted him to go at all, but he’d have to leave the apartment sometime. And he didn’t have security anymore.

No one noticed him, or no one gave a sh*t. It was a relief just to be walking down the street with people, in the world. The world existed, even if Louis didn’t know how to exist in it. He walked for a long time, till his mouth was dry and he’d sweated through Daniel’s hoodie.

On the way back to the apartment he stopped in a corner store to buy a bottle of water. He was standing in line to pay when he noticed the tabloid cover.

It was Claudia. Claudia and Lestat on the tarmac of a private airport. Louis recognized it as the one in Cleveland. The picture was taken from far away, but it was evident that she was screaming at him. Her little face twisted up. Her arms thrown out wide. Lestat was just standing there, his back to the camera. The caption: “Tensions Boil Over in Lioncourt Family”

Numbly, Louis took off his sunglasses and moved forward, unable to look away.

She was exactly as she’d been when he met her. So small and so angry.

“Hey,” the guy ahead of him in line was speaking to Louis. He looked over at him, dazed, not sure how long he’d been staring at the magazine cover.

“Aren’t you that guy? The one who cheated on that singer? That’s you right?” The guy looked more curious than accusatory.

Louis stared at him.

“It is you! My daughter won’t f*cking believe this!”

Louis dropped the bottle of water on the ground, turned, and left the store.

Chapter 27: my deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer

Chapter Text

Back at Daniel’s Louis took a frigid shower. He’d walked rapidly to the apartment, head down, and was a sweaty mess by the time he shoved inside. His jaw hurt from how hard it was tensing. The man in the corner store served as a sharp reminder of the state of his life. The anger this reminder prompted had been a relief at first, but it was almost as immobilizing as the pain. It too had nowhere to go.

Daniel had given him a stack of his clothes to wear until his luggage showed up. When it did Louis would regroup and figure out where the hell he was gonna go. Louis put on a t-shirt that must also be big on Daniel, cause it swamped him, and a pair of Daniel's basketball shorts.

He actually didn’t want to be back in the apartment. The walk had helped, taken him out of his head. But he couldn’t handle being recognized again today. One day, it’d be easy for him. People would say “Aren’t you that singer's ex?” And he’d say, “I get that a lot, but no.” One day it would be as easy for him as saying hello. Not today though.

Louis wished he had a job. You know times are bad when you’re reminiscing about working in food service. He just wished he had something to focus on, other than Lestat. Other than missing Claudia.

It was ten. The statement came out in two hours. He’d sent it to Grace late last night to see what she thought of it, but she hadn’t gotten back to him yet. Hopefully, it was good. There was no going back now.

Louis was lying on the couch, shuffling aimlessly through Daniel’s streaming services when there was a knock at the door.

Louis ignored it. This wasn’t his house. If anyone needed Daniel they could call him or come back later.

Another knock.

They’d get the hint and go away eventually.

Another knock.

“Louis.”

Lestat.

“Louis, I know you’re staying here. I’ve come to speak to you. Please.”

Louis sat up slowly. His voice. Heavy and sad and impossibly deep.

“Louis.”

The way he said his name. He made Louis sound longer and grander than it was.

“Louis. Please.”

You’re fired. His voice cold and remote, all of him cold and remote. Not the person Louis loved at all. A person Louis hadn’t known Lestat could be.

Louis really hadn't expected him to come. Hadn’t even let himself hope for it. Why had he come? What was there to say?

Louis suddenly realized Lestat was standing in the hallway where anyone could see him, and bolted off the couch and to the door, yanking it open.

“Are you stupid?” Louis grabbed Lestat's shoulder and hauled him inside, “I don’t need any more of Daniel’s bitch ass neighbors going viral off me.”

Lestat stumbled inside. Louis slammed the door shut, whirling around.

“I wore these up here,” Lestat said, holding up a black baseball cap and sunglasses.

Louis shook his head. A bunch of people already knew Louis was here. It wouldn’t be hard to connect him to the suspiciously familiar-looking blonde guy. But Louis didn’t say anything. It wasn’t worth arguing about.

“I’m gonna find a paper bag for ya head or something and then you got to go,” Louis said, going to the window to see the black SUV waiting for Lestat on the curb, “Call down to your security guy and ask him to see if there’s a back entrance you can sneak out.”

“Louis, I came to speak with you. I must speak with you."

Louis's mouth tensed. His nostrils flared. This anger was a gift actually. There was a hot, shimmering mirage between him and Lestat. Louis could not see love or fear or grief. Only anger.

He turned around. Lestat looked like sh*t. Really. Louis had never seen him look like sh*t before. Even when he was tired after a show, sweaty from working out, or had dark rings around his eyes from little sleep, he’d always had a radiance about him. There was no radiance now. He looked exhausted, drawn, and pale. The skin around his eyes was darker than ever, the rims red, the whites bloodshot. His hair was greasy and lanky, tucked behind his ears. He was wearing a wrinkly black T-shirt and jeans. It didn’t make Louis happy that he looked like that. But it didn’t make him sad either.

Louis didn’t say anything. He wanted him to leave. Just as strongly, he wanted to know what Lestat had to say, like the urge to pick at a wound.

Lestat was observing Louis as closely as Louis was observing him. His eyes traveled up from Louis’s bare feet to the stretched-out neck of Daniel’s t-shirt.

“You’re wearing…” Lestat began faintly, hardly speaking the words, a spasm of some emotion coming across his face. Pain? Or anger? Who cared?

“You stranded me in a city without my luggage,” Louis said sharply, hating the implication in Lestat’s words, “Daniel was kind enough to lend me some clothes. I did not sleep with him. I did not kiss him back.”

“I know. I know…” Lestat’s voice broke, “It’s just…”

He was going to cry. Louis reached for anger and held on to it fiercely. Tears began to fall down Lestat’s cheeks.

“I’m such a fool,” Lestat said, and it didn’t even seem like he was talking to Louis, “An impulsive, destructive fool.”

Louis hadn’t expected him to say that. It caused a twinge in his chest. But his anger still seethed, “Yes.”

Lestat’s gaze snapped to Louis’s. He walked forward, reaching for him. Louis stepped back and Lestat dropped his hand. His shoulders dropped too.

“Louis, I will do anything to earn your forgiveness. Anything,” His voice was rough and strained.

Louis just looked at him. Lestat seemed unsteady, unsure of himself. Louis had never seen him like that either.

“You don’t have to do nothin’. I’ll probably forgive you eventually for my own sake,” Louis said, trying to sound level-headed, and mature, though he too was unsteady all over.

“You know that isn’t what I mean,” Lestat said imploringly, “You must let me fix this for us. Give me a chance to repair the damage I’ve wrought. Let me earn back your trust.”

There it was. The hope beyond the hope that Louis had denied himself. Lestat wanted him back. He wanted him. Oh god. Lestat still wanted him.

You’re fired.

But could Louis ever trust him? How had Louis ever trusted him? He was just so overwhelming, he’d taken Louis in completely. Enveloping him in sweet, drugging love. Even now there was an undertow grasping at Louis’s feet. Surrender. You want to. It feels so good. Better than anything.

And then what? What happened to Louis the next time Lestat got angry?

Louis kept his face set and fought the trembling of his lips. He shook his head, “There’s nothing here to fix. And I ain’t ever gon trust you again.”

Lestat’s jaw worked. He shoved a shaking hand through his hair, “I can prove myself to you, Louis. I swear it. I was a stranger to myself that day and I will never be that person again.”

Louis wanted to be stoic and let Lestat’s words wash over him and away. But he heard himself asking, his voice humiliatingly small and hurt, “Why didn’t you give me a chance? Hear me out. I heard you out. Why did you just…leave me?”

Louis choked on the last words. He inhaled sharply, trying to suppress tears, swiping his hand roughly across his face.

Lestat looked agonized, “I was out of my head. When you left I felt a panic unlike anything. I was worried you would somehow come to harm. Or you’d left me for good, and that you’d gone to him—“

Louis cut him off, “I told you I was fine. That I just needed a f*cking break.”

“I know. I know,” Lestat’s voice was despairing, “I can only say I was frantic. And when I saw those pictures…”

Lestat’s voice cracked again. He took a small step towards Louis, then back.

“You…I’ve never encountered any force like you before Louis. Nothing and no one has ever had the power over me you do. And you left me to go to someone else. And he kissed you. And despite it all, I thought…” Lestat’s eyes slowly traced Louis’s body in Daniel’s clothes.

He seemed to shake himself and continued speaking.

“Armand made me see what a fool I was being. That I’d let my emotions get the better of me. I’m not trying to offer excuses when I say I was truly out of my mind. I am sorry. I’m so deeply sorry, you cannot imagine the depth of my regret.”

Louis reached for anger once more, and he found it. And he also found sadness, and bone-deep tiredness that made him feel old, and strangled, helpless love. But mostly he felt lonely. Even though Lestat was right in front of him.

Louis wished they belonged to each other again. He wished he’d never gotten on that plane, and learned what he knew now.

“You were the one with the actual power though,” Louis said, his voice coming out more sad than angry, “I made you feel bad. But you made me homeless.”

Lestat flinched.

“I will never give you the power to hurt me again,” Louis said simply. Because that’s what it came down to.

Lestat did move towards him now, reaching for Louis’s hands, grasping them in his own, squeezing them tight. Looking down at their clasped hands, Louis realized he was still wearing his engagement ring.

“I won’t. I won’t ever hurt you again, Louis. Beloved please,” Lestat reached one hand up to cup Louis’s face, wiping a tear away. Louis hadn’t realized he was crying again. Lestat was crying too, his voice thick with tears, “Please, please come back to me. I need you.”

Lestat cupped Louis’s face in both hands now, blue eyes bright with tears, searching his expression. Louis wasn’t sure why he let him, other than that it didn’t matter. He didn’t know where his resolve was coming from. What secret well of strength he was drawing on now. But Louis’s mind was made up. So why not feel Lestat’s big, strong hands on his face, his shoulders, clutching at him, pulling him close? Louis closed his eyes and felt the trail of light Lestat’s touch blazed all over his body for the last time.

“Please, Louis, I love you so much. I can’t return to a life without you in it. It's impossible. The rest of my life will be devoted to your happiness, I swear it.”

Beautiful, honeyed words, pouring so earnestly from his beautiful lips. He’d always been so good with words. But they hadn’t meant anything in the end.

“How’s Claudia?” Louis asked, opening his eyes, and interrupting Lestat’s pleading.

Lestat winced. It took a long moment for him to speak, “She’s very angry.”

“And?” Louis asked. Of course she was angry, “What else?”

“She won’t speak to me,” Lestat said, looking at the ground, “She's…hiding.”

She’d only just stopped hiding. Only just started to trust him. Let him love her. Louis felt her loneliness as sharply as his own.

Louis shook his head slowly, a stunning sense of loss making him weak, “I think I can forgive you for myself one day. And I hate myself for the part I played in this mess. And I'm sorry for it. But her? She didn't do nothin'. And you didn't even think twice...I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for hurting her like that.”

Lestat exhaled sharply. He stepped back and tore his hands through his hair. Paced away from Louis and back, “I know...I can't...I know. I’m going to be better for her. I’m going to do everything I…”

Lestat’s voice trailed off. He seemed to realize the insignificance of words. He stared down at the floor.

Louis took a deep breath, “I need something from you.”

Lestat looked up sharply, “Anything.”

“I need you to tell Claudia she can speak to me as much as she wants. That it won’t make you angry. That she might even be able to visit me one day. I need you to tell her that we talked, and we made sure to agree that I could still be there for her, even if we don’t live together anymore. Even if I can’t be her stepfather. I’m still her person.”

“Louis…” Lestat’s voice was nearly gone.

“Can you do that for me?” Louis asked, his voice coming out harsher than he intended.

Lestat flattened his mouth into a line. Nodded his head.

“Good,” Louis took another deep breath. He didn’t want to cry anymore in front of Lestat. Suddenly he was desperate for him to go. He didn’t want to look at his face or hear his voice or talk to him anymore, “Call your security. Ask them to find a way to sneak you out.”

“No! This cannot end,” Lestat surged forward, gripping Louis’s arms fiercely, desperately, “This is not the end. You don’t understand Louis, you don’t understand what you mean to me. You’ve shattered me completely. All my soul has reformed around your shape. I need you, I need you and I love you. I love you Louis, god. Sans toi, je ne suis rien. Tu es l’amour de ma vie—“

“You don’t know how to love anybody.”

Louis’s voice had once again come out harsh. Everything went very still. Lestat. Louis. The very air around them.

Good. Any moment now Lestat’s words would start to enter his heart, and Louis couldn’t bear it. Anything to make him shut up. Anything to make him leave. Louis tugged his engagement ring off his finger and held it to Lestat’s face, “Here.”

Lestat dropped his hands, stricken.

“Louis…” a final, broken plea.

“It’s over,” Louis said roughly. He grabbed one of Lestat's hands and smacked the ring in his palm, forcing his fingers to close over it. Lestat let him, his arm falling limply back to his side when Louis let go. Louis backed up and crossed his arms. This had to be over.

Lestat turned away suddenly. He was breathing hard. Louis looked toward the window. The tree outside was swaying gently in the breeze. He could hear wind chimes, he hadn’t heard those before.

After a moment Lestat spoke, the suddenness startling Louis. But he didn’t turn around. Lestat was imparting rapid-fire orders to his security downstairs.

Neither of them looked at the other again. After another moment, Louis heard Lestat open the door and slam it shut behind him.

Chapter 28: being absolutely without home

Chapter Text

When I met the Lioncourts I never for a moment imagined how quickly I would come to love both father and daughter. Soon they were my family. Every action I took during the course of my relationship with Lestat de Lioncourt was in the interest of preserving that family, especially the happiness and safety of Claudia de Lioncourt, who I love as my own and always will. I would never do anything to put my bond with her in jeopardy, in private or in public, despite any appearances to the contrary. Needless to say, I am heartbroken that I will not be joining the Lioncourt family as a husband and father. I understand that public attention comes with being in a relationship with a celebrity, and I don’t blame people for their curiosity. But I would ask for respect as I try to rebuild my life after this incredibly difficult time.

Grace texted him a few minutes before the statement came out.

It’s really good Louis. I’m proud of you. Call soon.

Daniel texted him a few minutes after.

Just posted this. It should gain a good amount of traction. If it’s not enough I can reach out to some places and comment corroborating your statement.

Louis hadn’t asked Daniel to say or post anything. Daniel hadn’t told Louis he was going to. Louis opened up the link to Daniel’s Instagram. Black text on a white background:

Louis is a dear friend of mine, and I’m deeply sorry I’ve contributed to the media sh*tstorm he is currently enduring. I developed feelings for him and tried to kiss him in a moment of foolish impulse. He did not reciprocate and even had the grace to let me down easy. No one deserves the level of vitriolic, hysterical, and often racist attention he is getting. And I can’t think of anyone more deserving of a bit of peace and quiet. Leave him alone.

So it was done. The world knew it was done. Where did he go from here?

Louis felt hollowed out inside. Lestat had left about an hour ago. It was hard to believe he had ever been here. Hard to believe that he came here to get Louis back, and Louis said no. Hard to believe that he had ever wanted Louis in the first place and that they had loved each other at all.

Louis’s luggage should be here soon, he should be making plans. He couldn’t overstay his welcome with Daniel. He’d been doing nothing though. Just sitting. Not crying. Not moving. Every breath hurt. His whole body ached, radiating from the core ache of his heart, right through to his fingertips. What had life been like before this pain? He couldn't remember. Impossible to imagine there would be an after.

Eventually, he lay down and went to sleep.

Louis woke up to voices. They were coming from the kitchen.

“I said mince, not smash into chunks.”

“I’m getting the peel or whatever off.”

“It’s not a piece of meat you're tenderizing Daniel, it's a clove of garlic. A delicate aromatic delight.”

“I really don’t even want to help anymore.”

Louis sat up slowly, wiping at his eyes and turning to face the kitchen. His limbs felt heavy, and there was the ache in his chest. He rubbed the heel of his hand on his sternum.

Armand was turned around, standing over the stove. The apartment smelled delicious, something rich and savory. Daniel was standing at the counter opposite the stove, chopping garlic.

“What are you even making?” Daniel asked.

“Food,” Armand replied.

“What kind of food? Asshat.”

“Do you ask an artist what kind of painting he’s making? No. You let him work.”

“If this turns out to be another one of your foul concoctions I’m not eating it.”

“Please Daniel, my concoctions haven’t turned out foul in years. Oh, good evening Louis!”

Armand smiled at him brightly. Daniel glanced over, “Hey. Sorry, we were trying to keep it down.”

“Really?” Louis asked, smiling slightly.

Daniel smiled back, “I didn’t say we were succeeding.”

“We are dining together,” Armand announced, “Well Daniel doesn’t have a dining room table so we’re actually huddling around the coffee table. But together.”

“You buy me a dining room table I’ll eat at it,” Daniel said as Armand took the cutting board from him and turned to scrape the garlic into a pan.

“No, you wouldn’t. You’d eat in front of the tv like an animal.”

“Cause animals are famous for that. And you watch tv constantly,” Daniel replied.

“But not while I’m eating,” Armand countered.

“You’re full of sh*t.”

Louis pulled his knees up to his chest and watched them cook together. They kept trying to draw him into the conversation, but he didn’t have much to say.

It was startlingly domestic, this little scene. Louis didn’t know if he’d ever seen anything like it really. Maybe at a friend's house growing up. His parents had certainly never cooked together. He and Lestat had barely ever been in a kitchen at the same time.

They were so at ease with one another. Armand lifted a spoonful of what he’d decided was stir fry to Daniel’s mouth, and Daniel ate it absentmindedly, checking something on his phone.

“It’s good,” Daniel said.

“Does it need anything?” Armand asked, wiping a bit of sauce off Daniel’s chin.

“Considering I don’t really know what’s in it I don’t feel qualified to offer an opinion.”

Armand rolled his eyes. He got down plates. Daniel slid past him, putting a hand on his back to let Armand know he was there, and got glasses from a different cabinet.

The ache in Louis’s chest grew stronger. He wished he were alone. But that would probably be worse.

“When do you leave again?” Daniel asked over his shoulder, putting a glass of ice water on a coaster in front of Louis.

“You want wine? He brought something red and expensive,” Daniel said to Louis. Louis shook his head.

“I’m not leaving,” Armand said as he walked into the living room with a plate in each hand, “I start rehearsals for the play soon.”

“Oh right. But I thought you had reshoots.”

“Already done,” Armand sat down on the couch next to Louis, passing him a plate. Daniel went and got his own plate and joined them in the chair opposite.

Louis took a tentative bite of Armand’s “concoction.” It almost looked like pad thai, but not quite. It was delicious. Smoky, slightly sweet. He had no idea what the protein in it was, and couldn’t identify half the vegetables. He decided he didn’t care. He was actually really hungry. When was the last time he’d eaten?

“Oh, your luggage is here,” Daniel said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

So it was. By the door were the two suitcases Louis had taken with him around half of Europe. Roget had gotten them here quickly. Louis rubbed his hand on his chest again.

“Great,” Louis said, taking another bite.

“This wine does not go with this meal,” Armand said musingly, taking a big draught from his glass. Daniel looked at him in fond confusion.

Armand put his glass down and turned to Louis.

“So what did you think of Daniel’s idea?”

Louis’s brow wrinkled.

“We haven’t gotten there yet,” Daniel said.

“Oh. Okay well before Daniel tells you his idea, my idea is you become our pet twenty-five year old—“

“Alright,” Daniel put down his glass, “I have an actual idea for you.”

“Idea for what?” Louis was lost. He wasn’t going to think about what Armand meant by “pet twenty-five year old.”

“What you’re gonna do. From here on out,” Daniel said.

Louis blinked at him. He felt a twinge in his chest along with the ache. Daniel had been thinking about that?

“Oh. Wow, really?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, “I have a friend at City College, he said with your background you’d be a shoo-in for any of their humanities or education masters programs.”

Louis hadn’t expected that at all, “Masters?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, “Gives you a couple years before you have to be out in the job market, by then this whole media thing will have calmed down. It comes with a job. A sh*tty TA job that pays nothing, but a job. And you’d come out more qualified than ever. And it’s rolling admission so you could apply now. If you wanted.”

Louis blinked at Daniel, and didn’t say anything. Louis thought he’d wanted something to do, but now that he was presented with a viable option he was overwhelmed. He looked down.

“It was just an idea,” Daniel said, “I mean you went to Berkeley; I know City College is a step-down. I just know people there—“

“No no, that’s not it,” Louis shook his head, looking back up at Daniel, “It’s a good idea. Really it’s just…a lot.”

“Do you need time away? A vacation?” Armand asked, leaning back against the couch.

“No,” Louis shook his head, “No I need to do something. It’s a really good idea. It’s just…a whole different future than I had three days ago.”

He’d be a student again, with people his own age. Not a husband or a father. It was a little hard to breathe.

“A bright future nonetheless,” Armand said, resting a hand on Louis’s shoulder. Louis was surprised by how comforting it was.

Armand’s phone started ringing on the coffee table. He glanced at it, “It’s Divya.”

Divya was Armand’s PR friend who was helping Louis with the statement. Armand picked it up and put it on speaker.

“You have me, Louis, and Daniel,” Armand said.

“Okay,” Divya said, “It’s still early but I’m just going to get into it cause I can see the way the wind is blowing. The statement is playing well. Really well. Especially with Daniel’s corroboration. Hearing directly from Louis has humanized him to the general public. Less villainizing on social media, more sympathy, which I expect will increase. We’re already seeing think pieces about it, almost all favorable.”

Some tension drained out of Louis. He hadn’t realized how much all the hate was bothering him. Even though he avoided being online as much as possible, it was disturbing to know just how many people had a negative opinion of him.

“However,” Divya began.

Louis sighed.

“Lestat fans, which are legion, and rabid, are blaming Louis for the tour cancellation. I don’t really see salvaging your reputation with insane stans. We’re just gonna have to take that loss.”

Louis sat forward, “Tour cancellation?”

Louis glanced at Armand, whose face was tense.

“Your Luddite tendencies are so laudable Louis, but it may be a good idea to go online sometimes. Just so you know what you're contending with when you like, go out in public. Lestat canceled the rest of his tour.”

Louis's stomach turned. Divya kept talking.

“To be fair his team did the best they could to keep the heat off you. Really put the emphasis on Lestat. He’s making a choice to regroup for his family’s sake. He can’t show up fully for his fans when he’s not showing up fully in his life etcetera etcetera. But the dominant narrative is that he’s a broken-hearted disaster.”

Louis closed his eyes.

“Real tactful Div,” Daniel said.

“Don’t call me Div, Danny. And I’m just telling you what’s being said. I don’t know what’s really happening and neither do any of these people.”

If Lestat felt half as awful as Louis did he was indeed a broken-hearted disaster.

“Anything else?” Armand asked.

“Nope. I’ll keep my eyes on it for a few days,” Divya said.

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Louis said.

“Happy to help.”

Divya hung up. Louis looked over at Armand, “Did you know he canceled the tour?”

Armand sighed, “Yes.”

“But…won’t he lose a lot of money?” Louis asked, which wasn’t what he really wanted to know. He couldn’t ask what he really wanted to know.

“He has plenty,” Armand said, waving a hand.

“Is he…” Is he okay? Does his chest hurt? Is he sleeping well? Has anyone made sure he ate? Is he hurting? I don’t want him to. Does he miss me? I want him to.

“He is, as always, Lestat,” Armand said with an air of finality. He stood, “I’m jet-lagged. I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

Armand walked down the hallway. It seemed like he didn’t want to talk about Lestat. Louis didn’t want to talk about him either. But all his questions were burning him up inside.

Ignore it. He looked over at Daniel.

“I um. I really appreciate you letting me stay here. I’ll start looking for another place tomorrow.”

Daniel tilted his head, “There’s no need. Unless you’re sick of the couch.”

“No. It’s just with Armand here now I’m sure you guys don’t want an extra person around,” Louis said.

“He’s just staying the night Louis. He has his own place in Manhattan,” Daniel said.

“Oh. Still. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Daniel smiled and leaned back in his chair, “You can’t.”

“Oh,” Louis looked down. He was continually disarmed by Daniel’s frank kindness, “Well thanks. But still, I’m going to try to find my own place and something to occupy my time as fast as I can. And thank you for looking into City College for me. You didn’t have to do that.”

The look on Daniel’s face was strange. Louis would almost describe it as patient.

“Louis. I blew up your life. It’s literally the least I can do,” he said.

Louis shook his head, “It wasn’t you. It was him.”

Louis’s life would still be whole if it wasn’t for Lestat. They could have weathered the storm of those pictures together.

“I contributed,” Daniel said flatly.

Louis didn’t know what to say. There was a new tension between them suddenly.

Cause I got a f*ckin crush.

Louis should definitely leave Daniel’s apartment. There was no way he could handle something like this right now. But god he just wanted a friend.

“Your post today,” Louis began, not really wanting to continue, “Did you mean it?”

Daniel tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah Louis. I meant every word.”

“Oh,” Louis rested his elbows on his knees.

“It’s not a problem,” Daniel looked back at him, “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a problem. We’re friends man.”

Louis nodded, looking down.

“You’re not buying it and I get that. But I’ll be around. You’ll see,” Daniel said.

Daniel’s voice was calm and assured. It made Louis feel a bit better.

“And Armand really doesn’t mind? Even though you…” Louis trailed off.

Daniel didn’t seem confused by the question.

“You know what he said when I told him I had a thing for you?” Daniel smirked, “He said, “That’s inconvenient, Lestat knows how to fight.”

Louis looked at Daniel in disbelief.

“I know,” Daniel laughed, “I could say anything to him.”

That amazed Louis even as it baffled him, “You guys are really comfortable together.”

Daniel shrugged, “We’ve seen each other at our absolute most f*cked up. When someone knows you at your worst and still likes you, you tend to get pretty comfortable.”

Louis’s chest tightened. His throat felt thick.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” Daniel asked, moving to sit on the couch next to Louis.

“Sure,” Louis said.

It was strange to do something as regular as watching a movie with a friend when it felt like the world was falling down around him. Daniel put on a dumb action movie and seemed to have great fun pointing out how dumb it was. The tension from earlier had dissipated completely. Louis tried to pay attention, let himself be distracted.

The fact of Daniel’s feelings for Louis sat frankly between them. Daniel seemed content to ignore it. And Louis wasn’t even sure what Daniel really meant. He loved Armand, that was clear. Both Armand and Daniel had made it clear that Daniel wanted to be exclusive with Armand. So what did Daniel want from Louis?

It was messy. Why was everything always so messy? All Louis knew was that he needed a friend right now, and Daniel was trying to be a good one. He should probably leave it at that.

Daniel went to bed eventually, telling Louis to think over the City College thing and let him know. He could set up a meeting with his friend for a tour and some help with the admissions process. Louis thanked him.

Louis had slept most of the day, so sleep was illusive now. Had it just been this morning that Lestat had been here? When that brief time of impossible happiness had come to its inevitable end? He wished he could sleep. He wanted to sleep for months, wake up, and find out his heart had healed itself while he was passed out.

He had almost drifted off when his phone started ringing. Who was calling this late?

Lestat.

Louis stared at his name on the screen. Should he answer? What could he possibly want?

Eventually, the choice was made for him. The phone stopped ringing.

Chapter 29: he would have me sought for; vainly

Chapter Text

When Louis checked his phone in the morning there was an email from Roget. Subject: Severance Package.

Jesus Christ. It was only 9 AM. He didn’t want to start sobbing yet.

He ignored the email and took a shower. He dug out his own clothes from his suitcase, happy to be wearing something that fit. As he ate cereal at the kitchen counter, it occurred to him that he should give Daniel some money for food.

Heartache was no respecter of time. He missed Claudia. Missed waking her up in the morning. The way her hair stuck up crazy cause she slept so wild her bonnet always came off. Missed her extremely strong opinions about breakfast cereal.

He wanted to call, but he texted instead. He hoped Lestat had talked to her already.

I just wanted to say hey. You can call or text me anytime if you want to talk. I'm here.

That felt so inadequate.

The email kept niggling in his mind. He hated that word. Severance.

A walk would be good, as long as he didn’t go into any stores. Glasses on and hood up, Louis headed out.

Severance Package. It was probably just a formality. Lestat probably didn’t even know about it. His company was taking care of it.

Louis checked his phone. No text from Claudia. Maybe he should call her? Or did she need space? He shoved his phone back into his hoodie pocket and walked faster. He was going to tell Daniel he was interested in City College, he needed something to occupy his mind.

Severance. Severed.

He only made it another block before he pulled out his phone and checked the email. People rushed by him as he scrolled, his eyes skimming impersonal language. Okay, so he was right. Standard procedure.

Wait.

That could not be right. He zoomed in on his phone screen. No way that was right.

He called Roget, who picked up immediately.

“Hello Louis,” Roget had the gentle tone to his voice people used at funerals.

“Hi. Uh listen, I got your email and I think there’s been some mistake.”

“Yes. I thought you might think so.”

Louis paused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean it is not a mistake. It is what Lestat ordered to the letter.”

Louis paused for even longer.

“Lestat told you to give me a ten million dollar severance package?”

“Yes.”

Louis felt like his brain had shut down, “Why?”

“Lestat does not explain himself to me. But I imagine it’s because he thought you deserved it.”

Louis was stunned, “Does he know that’s insane? He’s insane.”

“I don’t think pointing out the insanity of the gesture would have much impact on him.”

True.

“Wait, is this to get me to sign the NDA?” Louis asked, suspicious.

Roget took a moment to respond, “What NDA?”

“The one Miri asked me about.”

Another pause.

"No the severance package and any NDA mentioned are not connected.”

"Okay," Louis said, not entirely believing him.

He hung up with Roget.

Ten. Million. Dollars.

Did Louis want ten million dollars from his ex-fiancé? Was it a gesture of kindness? Of apology? Was Lestat still trying to get him back? Was he hoping money would shut him up?

Regardless, his pride rebelled at the idea of accepting it.

A fellow pedestrian bumped his shoulder. Louis looked up and realized he was still standing on the curb. Back to Daniel’s he went.

Daniel set up a meeting with his friend at City College that Friday. Louis had talked it over with Grace while walking around aimlessly. That’s all he did these days. Sleep. Walk. Sleep. Walk. Don’t think about Lestat. Try not to worry too much about Claudia.

“I mean, obviously I would love it if you came home,” she said, “But that’s clearly not an option. And you're done in San Francisco. So LA is the only place you have any roots. Do you want to go back to LA?”

Louis didn’t have roots in LA. Not anymore.

“No.”

“Why not New York then? You’ve talked about getting a master's before. It's exciting,” Grace said.

Louis dodged some asshole on a bike, “Yeah, I guess.”

It would be exciting if he could get excited about anything. It was something to do.

“And you have friends there,” she said.

“I guess,” Louis said again.

“Why do you only guess?”

“I feel like they feel sorry for me,” Louis crossed the street, “Like Armand feels bad his best friend did me dirty and Daniel feels bad he kissed me. So they're watching me to make sure I’m okay or something.”

“That’s not not friendship,” Grace said.

Louis laughed. Then he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head. A group of teenage girls with their phones trained on him. sh*t. He walked faster.

“Got eyes on me,” he mumbled to Grace, “Kids taking videos.”

“Damn, Does that happen a lot?”

“Only a couple times. But it probably will happen more once I start to go out in public for real and stop hiding at Daniel’s house.”

“You can face it,” she said.

Louis sighed. He could.

“Are you doing okay?” She asked.

Louis looked around, feeling like there might be someone watching him, but there was no one.

“He keeps calling me,” he said.

“Lestat?”

“Yeah.”

Every night, right before Louis usually went to sleep, Lestat would call him. Only once. He didn’t text to explain himself. Louis didn’t text to ask why. If it was important or about Claudia he would have his people reach out, wouldn’t he? Louis would just stare at his name on the screen. Hearing his voice say bonjour mon cher in his head. Louis never answered.

Claudia hadn’t gotten back to him. He texted her good morning and goodnight every day, just to let her know he was there.

“Aren’t you curious about what he wants?” Grace asked.

Of course, he was curious. But it didn’t matter, “I can’t talk to him. I don’t even want to tell him to stop 'cause he’ll think that’s communication.”

“You could block him,” she said.

“No. What if it’s about Claudia one day?”

She sighed, “Louis I gotta be honest this is some real tough sh*t you're dealing with.”

Louis half laughed half sighed, “You’re telling me? Actually, I think he might be calling about the money.”

“Have him call me. I’ll take the money.”

Louis laughed for real that time.

He had turned the money down. Roget had been confused and kept calling him to try to get him to change his mind. On Lestat’s orders, Louis assumed.

He was probably being stupid. Both Daniel and Grace said he was being stupid. He just couldn’t stomach it. It felt grubby. It felt like a payoff. It made him inexplicably sad. He didn’t want Lestat’s money. He’d wanted Lestat.

It made him feel like he was another Nicki. Lestat loved you then left you. Have a consolation prize.

On Friday Louis tried to look nice for the meeting. Which meant no hoodie. He tried to find an outfit that he hadn’t worn on the tour in case anyone recognized him in it but decided he was being paranoid. He didn’t have enough clothes for that anyway. When he got his own place he would ask Roget to ship him all his stuff.

All his books were sitting in his lovely little room in Lestat’s house. He remembered mentioning to Lestat that he was going to put all his books in the study when they got home from the tour. Lestat had liked that idea. Louis shoved those thoughts aside, though the sharp pain they caused remained.

Daniel was waiting for him in the kitchen, “I normally take the train. But if you want to take an Uber or something in case you're worried about people, that's fine.”

Louis considered it, “No. The train is good. I’m gonna have to get used to it.”

Louis wore his dark glasses, which he thought made him look kind of silly and conspicuous on the train, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him. Most people didn’t here. It was just the odd few.

He hadn’t been going online like Divya recommended, so he didn’t know if the pictures the people in the street took of him ended up anywhere. He didn’t know what was going on with Lestat.

Armand was in and out of Daniel’s place, but he never brought Lestat up. He was trying to help Louis find an apartment, and Louis was very grateful, though he couldn’t shake the idea that Daniel and Armand were babysitting him.

Louis and Daniel were holding the same pole on the train. Daniel was reading a book on his phone.

“Hey Daniel,” Louis said.

Daniel looked up and raised his brows.

“Are you doing all this cause you feel sorry for me?”

Louis wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. He just didn’t want pity. Didn’t want money or pity. Du Lac pride still survived in him yet.

Daniel got that patient look on his face again, “No Louis.”

He looked back down at his phone and swiped the page.

“Are you doing it ‘cause you feel bad?”

Daniel didn’t look up this time, “Not really.”

“Not really?”

“I mean I do feel bad,” Daniel put his phone in his pocket and moved around the pole to face him, “But that’s not really the main motivator.”

“What is?”

“We are friends,” Daniel said flatly like he was tired of repeating it.

Louis raised a hand, “I’m just saying it’s a long way to go for a friend—“

“When I look at you I get an overwhelming urge to take care of you. That’s why. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Louis's lips parted in surprise. He stared at Daniel. Daniel stared back.

Suddenly Daniel snapped his head to the side, “Hey f*ck you man! Stop taking pictures or videos or whatever the f*ck. Asshole.”

Louis looked over. There was some guy with his phone trained on them. He gave Daniel the finger.

The train slowed.

“This is our stop,” Daniel grumbled.

They walked the short distance to the campus in silence.

Louis had no idea what he felt. He felt…warm? But uncomfortable. His chest felt tight.

“Henry’s gonna meet us here,” Daniel said as they walked into a brick and glass building.

“Cool.”

Daniels’s friend Henry was a professor in the International Affairs department, but he said he had friends in several other humanities departments if Louis wanted to help pursuing admission. He gave them a tour of the campus, pointed out landmarks and good places to study, and answered all of Louis’s questions.

Louis felt almost nice walking around. It was still summer, so there weren’t a lot of people around, but there was still a sense of industriousness about the place. Learning and creating were getting done.

“So what are you thinking in terms of programs?” Henry asked.

“Not sure,” Louis said, “Something that makes me more employable I guess.”

“This is the humanities,” Henry joked.

Louis smiled, “I kind of want to do literature. But that feels self-indulgent.”

“If you had ten million dollars you could afford to self-indulge,” Daniel mumbled.

Louis ignored him, “But I’m also really interested in education.”

Henry nodded, “Like I said, both of those departments are great. Really good people. Think on it and let me know.”

Louis and Daniel thanked Henry and headed back to the train.

“So what did you think?” Daniel asked as they waited on the platform.

Louis nodded, “I liked it. It’s as good a thing to do as any.”

“Ringing endorsem*nt.”

Louis smiled and shrugged, “I’m just kind of lost. That’s the best I can do.”

“Yeah,” Daniel nodded, looking away.

On the train, they held onto the same poll again. Daniel went back to reading.

An overwhelming urge to take care of you.

That was nice to hear. Kind of amazing to hear actually. Louis didn't know what to do with it, with his mixture of discomfort and gratitude. And growing affection.

Daniel parted ways with Louis to go get some work done. Louis went back to the apartment and started on his application, reaching out to old professors for recommendations and starting on his personal statement. Were any of the essays he’d written even good enough to submit?

He was right, having something to do helped. The pain didn’t go away, not at all. But he thought about it less. Thought about him less.

Armand and Daniel cooked again, and Louis didn’t watch them. He focused on digging through his Google drive for a half-decent paper.

Over dinner, Armand told him about a friend who was leaving the country for a year and was looking to sublet his place in Manhattan. With all his saved-up salary he could afford it.

“You could afford it a million times with ten million dollars,” Daniel said. Louis ignored him again.

He felt the smallest bit better with a plan. With some direction.

Just before Louis went to sleep, Lestat called again. And like before, Louis just stared at the screen until it went black.

Unlike before Lestat tried again.

That threw Louis. Was something wrong?

He hesitated only for a moment before he answered.

“Is Claudia okay?” he asked. Was she hiding and Lestat couldn’t find her? Had she set something on fire? Had she run away?

“Oh. She’s fine. I’m sorry I had no intention of distressing you.”

Louis closed his eyes, one anxiety draining away as another one took its place.

His voice. Louis wouldn’t be able to withstand his voice.

“Okay. Well then bye.”

“Wait, please," Lestat said hurriedly, "I just have one question. I’m sorry to call twice but I was growing…desperate.”

Desperate.

“What?” Louis asked, keeping the emotion from his voice.

“What is your second favorite book?”

Louis’s whole body stilled.

“What?” He asked again, his voice faint.

“I finished Giovanni’s Room and I just need…I would be very grateful if you told me your second favorite book please.”

Louis’s chest hurt so badly he thought there might be something physically wrong. He fought tears.

“I don’t rank them,” he said more roughly than he intended, “I love a lot of books. Giovanni’s Room is just my favorite.”

“Tell me a book you love then. Please.”

Louis swallowed hard. It took him a long time to come up with one. It was hard to think.

“ To the Lighthouse ,” he said finally, “Virginia Woolf.”

Lestat released a breath of relief, “Thank you.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“Why didn't you just text me?” Louis asked.

Another moment of silence, longer this time.

“I needed to hear your voice,” Lestat said.

Louis couldn’t fight the tears any longer. He hung up.

Chapter 30: he would suffer, perhaps grow desperate

Chapter Text

It only took Louis three weeks to learn he’d been admitted to City College of New York as a graduate student in their English Literature program.

It still felt self-indulgent to him, choosing literature. But the idea of being consumed with reading and writing for two whole years made something like pleasure flair in his chest, and that was too precious to turn away from.

The minute he heard he threw himself into getting ready for the fall semester. It started August 25th, so he didn’t actually have that much time, less than a month to set up an entirely new life for himself.

Daniel and Armand continued to just be there. Watching tv with him. Eating dinner with him. Helping him get a new place. There was a Louis-shaped indent on Daniel’s couch. Louis was so grateful for their help. Grateful not to be alone.

Armand and Louis headed over to the place he was renting from Armand’s friend. School started in two weeks. The apartment was really nice, a bit of a ways from the college but not too far. Louis strongly suspected Armand had talked his friend into giving Louis a deal on the rent.

It was small. Cozy small though, not cramped small. It was in a prewar building, with big east-facing windows, so Louis could watch the sunrise. It had charming, old-fashioned details. A brick fireplace with built-in bookshelves on either side. Ornate crown molding. Honey-colored wood floors. The kitchen was tiny, the bedroom was tiny, and the bathroom was just big enough to turn around in. It was exactly the right size for a person living alone.

The furniture was all still there, but the owner had packed up all their personal stuff. The bookshelves sat ready and waiting for Louis’s books. Maybe he could get a little projector and hang a screen over the fireplace so he could watch movies. Maybe he’d fill the empty spice rack over the stove and get good at cooking.

When they got to the door Armand passed him the keys, “Welcome home my friend.”

Louis smiled and unlocked the door. His boxes took up a good bit of the living room. Roget had sent his stuff and had movers bring it up. Louis walked inside, Armand closing the door behind them.

He felt strange. Like he was in someone else’s life. Who was this young man, moving to New York to get a masters? That sounded like a person with goals, who knew what he wanted. That wasn’t what Louis felt like. He felt like a shadow of a person. A shade drifting through life.

He still hadn’t heard from Claudia. He’d started calling in addition to the good morning and good night texts. He did it like Lestat had been calling him. Once a day, around five pm. She didn’t pick up. What else could he do? They weren’t actually family. She had no obligation to speak to him. He’d even called to ask Roget if she was alright. Roget hadn’t been able to say much. He did tell Louis they were back in LA, and Lestat had put her in another school. So far there were no problems.

Louis wondered if she liked the school. If she’d made friends. If she’d joined a sport. He wondered if she was lonely. If she was talking to Lestat. Did she hate him now? Did she hate Louis now?

Louis would give anything to see her even for a moment. Read her face and see if she was alright.

He’d heard from Lestat only once more. Two weeks after Louis told him about To the Lighthouse, Lestat called again. Same time, right before Louis went to sleep.

Louis picked up.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Then Louis said, “Their Eyes Were Watching God. Zora Neale Hurston.”

And Lestat said, “Thank you.”

And Louis hung up.

He was beginning to believe he would be lonely for them forever. That he’d feel them as a phantom part of his body that he’d lost. His family. Not gone. Just not his anymore.

Louis realized he had a hand pressed to his chest, and was staring out the window absently. He looked over and saw Armand unpacking a box of books and shelving them.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Louis said.

“Why do you think I came?” Armand asked.

Louis joined him. They shelved books side by side, chatting about nothing in particular.

Louis was surprised by how comfortable he’d become around Armand. Maybe because Armand was comfortable with everything. He was perfectly comfortable with long silences. He was perfectly comfortable with strong emotions. You really could say anything to him, and he wouldn’t even blink.

“Oh,” Armand said, reaching up to place a book on a high shelf, “I regret to inform you that Nicholas is in New York.”

Louis froze. Armand glanced at him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t have bothered you with it but with you starting school soon I figured you should know in case anybody mentions it. It seems he’s parlayed his newfound fame into getting representation by a decent American agency. He has a residency at the Met.”

Louis felt sick. It was silly to feel sick. New York had millions of people. As long as Louis avoided the Met they should never cross paths.

“Unfortunately I can’t say he’s untalented. He probably would’ve been able to accomplish this years ago if he hadn’t been intent on his own self-destruction. It seems attention was all he needed as a motivator,” Armand slipped another book on the shelf.

Louis didn’t say anything. He rotely began to unpack another box. Even just his name reminded Louis of long sleepless nights. Getting mobbed outside hotels. Fighting with Lestat. Pressure so overwhelming that Louis had fled. Everything he'd lost.

“You know I was in a relationship with a much older man once,” Armand said casually, “Much larger of a gap than yours and Lestat’s though. Different in many ways from yours and Lestat’s. I wouldn’t hold Lestat so dear if he was anything like my ex.”

Louis turned to look at Armand, confused. Armand kept stacking books.

“I was eighteen when I met him. He was fifty-three. I’d just moved from Ukraine to Paris. I thought he was the most worldly, glamorous, brilliant person to exist. I moved in with him almost immediately.”

Armand walked across the living room to tear open another box, “I was with him for ten years. From eighteen to twenty-eight. And in those ten years, I tried not to do a thing that displeased him. And much displeased him.”

He pulled a book out of the box, turning it over in his hands.

“If it wasn’t for Lestat, I probably would still be with that man now. He probably would have crushed my spirit completely,” Armand turned to look at Louis, “When I finally broke it off with him, I felt like there was no point to me anymore. I was adrift.”

Louis looked away from Armand’s steady gaze.

“But there is, of course, a point to me. And there’s a point to you. The continued existence of the wonderful person you are. And being a wonderful person, you will attract wonderful things.”

Louis felt paradoxically comforted and uncomfortable being so clearly seen. It was good to hear that Armand, who was brilliant and successful, had once felt like Louis did right now.

“Thank you," Louis softly.

Armand shrugged, “I just speak the truth.”

Louis recalled something, a conversation he’d had with Armand. It felt like a long time ago.

“Can I ask you a question?” Louis said.

“Of course.”

“You told me once you couldn’t feel trapped. Is that why?”

Armand nodded, “Yes. I find anyone having any measure of control over my movements quite difficult to stomach.”

That made sense. It made sense why Armand didn’t live with Daniel. Was always breezing in and out of his life. It made sense why Daniel accepted it, even begrudgingly. You did that sort of thing for people you loved.

“Daniel’s not like me,” Armand said, “He doesn't like anything feeling tenuous. Impermanent. Whereas I need things too.”

“It’s kind of amazing that you make it work though,” Louis said.

Armand smiled, “I’m surprised it looks like it’s working from the outside.”

“Y’all are what I always thought old married couples should be like. Never seen one in real life before,” Louis said.

Armand laughed, “You should tell Daniel that. He’ll appreciate the irony.”

They unpacked in silence a little longer. Louis went into the bedroom to hang up some clothes and came back for another box. He looked over at Armand.

“It really doesn’t bother you? That he kissed me?” Louis asked. He couldn't fathom that really.

Armand looked over at him, unperturbed, “No.”

Louis shook his head, “That’s crazy to me.”

Armand shrugged, “As I’ve mentioned, I would kiss you myself if I didn’t think Lestat would try to run me over with his car.”

“I guess," Louis said, "But Daniel’s told me he always wanted to be exclusive with you. Even married. You don't feel like he switched up on you?”

Armand turned to him more fully, “I know Daniel. If I didn’t understand why he wanted you, that would bother me. Because knowing Daniel, down to his bones. That’s what’s important to me. Nothing else matters.”

Louis was struck silent. It seemed to him that Armand had just explained love.

“He's drawn to you because of your capacity for love. Same as Lestat,” Armand said, turning to unpack again, “He’s jaded. I think you make him hopeful.”

“Hopeful for what?” Louis asked faintly, overwhelmed by some nameless emotion.

“Himself,” Armand said, “He was beginning to think he didn’t have any more to give.”

Louis went and sat down on the couch. He wasn’t sure why this conversation had disoriented him so much. It felt like Louis could ask Armand any question, and he would know the answer. Louis wished he had his wisdom, his self-possession.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Louis said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“Show me someone who does and I’ll show you a liar,” Armand said lightly, turning around, “Let’s go eat.”

Two weeks later, on the night before his first class, Louis got a call.

He didn’t let Lestat speak. He didn’t want to hear his voice.

“Persuasion. Jane Austen,” he said, and immediately hung up.

How, precisely, did a person make friends as an adult?

How has Louis made friends before? People had liked him, hadn’t they? He was a generally pleasant person to be around, wasn’t he?

And maybe more to the point, how did one make friends when your ex was one of the most famous people in the world?

Some of it was probably his own fault. He was paranoid that people had preconceived notions about him. That they thought he was a homewrecker or a tour ruiner.

But people did recognize him. Half the time he could tell by their faces. He was trying to make himself walk around on campus without a hat and sunglasses on, forcing himself to exist in public again like a normal person.

At least once a week someone would come up to him and ask for a picture. Which, frankly, was insane of them. And some had the gall to be annoyed when he said no. But Louis wasn’t anybody. He was somebody’s ex-fiancé. Who cared?

People cared. Half of his cohort seemed to consider him an oddity. Like a dog who could read and speak English showed up in their class. People still took pictures and videos of him, and he did his best to ignore it. He’d only look crazy if he yelled at them to stop.

Louis was attempting to be optimistic. He tried to remind himself what was going well: His classes were interesting. He was doing well in them. He really liked his apartment. He had Grace, Daniel, and Armand. There was hardly ever anyone sitting on his favorite bench to read on. The Chinese food place on his block was delicious.

Louis did not think he was doing particularly well at optimism. But he couldn’t let himself sit in the stagnant waters of his own sadness. Sometimes he wanted to. Sometimes he wondered what the point was.

The loneliness that has existed at the fringes of life when he was staying with Daniel rolled in heavy and thick like fog. Louis had never actually lived alone before. It had its good qualities. Peace and quiet. The bathroom was always free. He could watch whatever he wanted. But he missed checking in with someone at the end of the day. Sharing a meal.

But Armand and Daniel hadn’t dropped him. Louis was beginning to let himself believe that they were friends with him for his own sake.He and Armand actually lived fairly close, and Louis swung by his building to meet him. They were going out to Daniel’s. Armand felt like cooking.

“I don’t get why you don’t cook at home,” Louis said as they walked to the train.

“I don’t have any of the stuff,” Armand said.

“Why not?”

“I keep it all at Daniel’s. This is the longest I’ve been in New York for two years.”

“Why not take the stuff back?” Louis asked.

“Then I would have one less reason to bother Daniel,” Armand said. Louis smiled.

Daniel wasn’t home yet when they got there. Armand let them in with his key.

Louis helped Armand, who had him slicing yucca, which Armand said made amazing fries. Armand had put on music, and they worked in companionable silence.

“I have something unpleasant to bring to your attention,” Armand said, “Which I’ve put off for some time.”

Louis's head snapped up, “Claudia?”

“No,” Armand sighed, “Not Lestat either. Nicolas.”

Louis laid the knife down. What was it now?

“He’s reached out to me repeatedly and I’ve been ignoring him. But then he told me he was actually looking for you. To apologize.”

Nothing could have shocked Louis more.

“What?”

Armand nodded, “I only spoke with him briefly. But he said he wants to make amends. That he knows he caused you suffering.”

Louis shook his head vigorously. The idea of meeting Nicki was appalling, “No. No. Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I told him you’d say. But of course, I thought you should make the choice on your own.”

Louis backed away from the counter and went and sat on the arm of the couch. Nicki, who’d been the impetus of disaster, wanted to apologize.

What did Nicki think he had to apologize to Louis for? What could his apology possibly mean now? How could Louis possibly believe he was sincere?

The door opened. Daniel was home.

“I’m thinking about becoming a gamer,” he said, kicking off his shoes, “A person who games. They seem to be having a sh*t ton of fun. I could use more fun in my life.”

“I love that idea,” Armand said, “Let’s both do it.”

“Oh no. You’ll get weirdly intense about it and tell some ten-year-old in Iowa to kill himself.”

“I feel like that’s normal gamer behavior,” Armand said.

Louis put his thoughts of Nicki aside and joined his friends for dinner.

What did Nicki look like in real life?

All the pictures of him online were a few years old, except for his professional headshots, which were very stiff. Was he really that young looking still? Or was it the lighting? Was his accent like Lestat’s, because they were from the same region? Was he friendly? Charming? What had drawn Lestat to him in the first place? What did he actually want to say to Louis?

And round and round in Louis's mind these thoughts went.

It was curiosity, morbid, obsessive curiosity, that made Louis text Armand and tell him he’d changed his mind. He’d like to hear Nicki’s apology after all.

A briefer period of time between this call and the last.

Louis didn’t spit a title out immediately and then hang up this time. He wanted to hear his voice. He wanted it to hurt.

“Are you there Louis?”

Louis closed his eyes.

“Louis?”

No one else on earth said his name like that.

“I’m here,” Louis said faintly. He cleared his throat, “Salvage the Bones. Jesmyn Ward.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Louis didn’t hang up then either. He lay still in his bed, listening to the faintest sound of Lestat breathing on the other end of the line. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he realized Lestat wouldn’t hang up. That he had to.

He gave it one more minute before pressing the button and putting the phone down.

Chapter 31: either for pain or pleasure

Chapter Text

This was a terrible idea.

Louis was here early. At a small coffee shop not far from Lincoln Center. Armand had given Louis Nicki's number under protest, and he’d texted him that very same day. A brief, impersonal conversation, deciding on a day, time, and place.

In the two days since then, Louis had picked up his phone to cancel at least a dozen times. But he didn’t. He wanted to see. He wanted to know.

But now, sitting here, waiting for Nicki to show up, he was sure this had been a mistake. Nothing good could come of this. This was a foolish, desperate attempt to maintain some connection to Lestat. To pick at the wound. He was stupid, he was pathetic, he was—

Nicki was here. Opening the cafe door. Scanning the room. Spotting Louis. Smiling with half of his mouth. Raising a hand in greeting. Walking in his direction.

His inborn sense of propriety had Louis standing to greet him, holding out his hand to shake.

Nicki was, of course, very beautiful. His most arresting feature was his long, glossy dark hair, flowing loosely down his shoulders, nearly reaching his waist. He smiled more fully, and it seemed like his eyes genuinely twinkled.

“Hi,” he said, “It feels odd to say nice to meet you. But it is.”

He shook Louis’s outstretched hand, and Louis made himself respond, “Yes. Yeah.”

Nicki sat down, and Louis followed suit.

“How are you finding New York?” Nicki asked, leaning forward on his elbows, some of his hair spilling over his shoulders.

Louis cleared his throat, “It’s been good so far. Nice change of pace. How about you?”

Nicki nodded, “I feel the same.”

This was bizarre. Louis was exchanging pleasantries with Nicolas de Lenfent. His accent was less pronounced than Lestat’s, which was strange because Lestat had lived in America for years. He was wearing a t-shirt of what Louis could only assume was a band. He didn't know. Jeans. Doc Martens. How bizarre, to be noticing that Nicolas de Lenfent was wearing Doc Martens. To notice the softness of his accent.

Nicki sighed, “Look, I know this is terribly awkward. And maybe selfish on my part. But really felt I must speak with you.”

Louis swallowed, “Why?”

Nicki took a breath. Glanced upward. Tucked his hair behind his ears, “When I wrote my piece. Needless to say I was extremely hurt. And your youth…galled me frankly. It was a great point of...pain for me.”

“I remember,” Louis said.

Twenty-five year old nanny.

"Of course," Nicki said softly, "Of course you do. And the fact that you were in Lestat's employ, and had been for some time...it all felt so...Regardless. I should not have made such a thing of it. My primary purpose was to point out what I thought was an obvious violation of Lestat's. But I cannot lie. I was bitter towards you as well. Though I'd never even met you."

Nicki's bluntness stunned Louis. He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't this.

“I don’t regret writing that essay, to be clear. I needed to come into the light,” Nicki said, “But if I could do it again, I would speak of you less. Not make the implications I did. I’m ashamed to say it took me reading your statement to the press to realize the similarities between us.”

Louis’s brows drew together, “What do you mean?”

Nicki folded his hands on the table, “I recognized myself in your disappointment. You could have been me at twenty-five. You were me at twenty-five. Heartbroken that the future Lestat promised had been snatched away in an instant.”

Louis’s hands went numb in his lap.

Nicki threw his hands up and huffed, “I had built up this idea of you in my head. This ludicrous idea that Lestat leaving me was your idea. Lestat never did anything he didn’t want to, I know this. It was just so impossible for me to accept that I’d been abandoned after nearly two decades.”

Nicki took another breath and looked out the window for a moment.

“The worst thing he ever did wasn’t abandoning me. It was not abandoning me sooner. He just wouldn’t let me go. I’m even sure if he knows what he’s like, what he does to people. He becomes the sun of your life, and you just orbit, and are glad too. And he hates to lose people. More than anything he hates to lose people. So he just keeps you around, even if he doesn’t have any particular use for you anymore.”

Louis’s face had gone numb now. Nicki turned and looked him in the eye.

“So, Louis. I am very sorry for the pain I have caused you. I should empathized, and instead, I accused.”

Louis didn’t know what to say. It seemed impossible that his heart could break even more. But there it was, doing it. He just nodded.

Nicki rested his elbows on the table and leaned further forward, “I also wanted to ask you if you’d like me to write another essay. I’d essentially explain all I just said. Make it clear that I was in the wrong when it came to you.”

Louis looked past Nicki, his vision blurring. The idea of yet another essay being written about him and Lestat was vaguely horrifying, in the back part of his mind that was still registering things.

“No,” Louis said softly, “It’s over. I want it to stay over. Don’t want any more attention.”

Nicki nodded vigorously, “I completely understand. That’s why I wanted to ask.”

Louis slowly shoved back his chair, not really thinking about what he was doing.

“Oh,” Nicki said, also rising, “Well, thank you for meeting me.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, his voice dull, “Thank you for apologizing.”

Nicki tilted his head, “Are you alright? I’m so sorry if this was distressing to you. I thought it might—”

“No,” Louis pulled himself together and looked at Nicki, “No this was good. I needed to hear this. It made some stuff clear for me.”

Nicki was right. He and Louis were the same.

It was three nights later when he called again. Louis had been anticipating it. Dreading it. He answered.

A small silence, and then Louis asked, “How’s Claudia?”

Lestat inhaled sharply like he was surprised. It took him a moment to speak, “She’s adjusting to school. It’s been difficult. But I hope we can find our footing soon.”

“Mmmm,” Louis said. He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath, “Listen. You can’t call me anymore unless it’s about her okay.”

Another sharp inhale. Another long moment.

“Why?” Lestat asked, his voice rough.

“Because we have nothing to say to each other,” Louis said.

And once more, silence.

When Lestat spoke, his voice was low and strained, “Louis. I understand. Truly. But please, just let me have this, alright? I need…I need—”

“No,” Louis closed his eyes, “No. Goodbye.”

And before he lost his courage, Louis hung up.

Louis’s chest didn't precisely ache anymore. Now it felt like was a huge weight on it, trying to press him into the earth.

He moved through his days slowly, ploddingly. He was always tired for some reason. Sleep was wonderful blankness. Louis slept as often as possible. He left for class at the last possible minute. Came home as early as he could.

He stopped bothering to try to make friends. What was the point anyway? He didn’t feel like doing anything or seeing anyone. Daniel and Armand’s texts and calls went largely unanswered. Grace called so much that he had no choice but to answer.

“Louis, I am worried about you,” she said for the thousandth time.

Louis was in bed, “You should record that so you can play it instead of strainin’ your voice saying it so much.”

“You need to get the f*ck out of that damn bed Louis, and go do something. Anything, you hear me?”

“Did you just say f*ck?” Louis asked, “I’m tellin’ Mama.”

“Louis—”

“It’ll pass Grace. I’m just goin’ through something. It’ll pass.”

It hadn’t passed yet. A month in the the heaviness had only increased. Sometimes, a feeling would slice through it. A loneliness so strong he felt like he was pulsing with it, like loneliness was radiating from him, and people would be able to see it somehow and tell he had no one and nothing. A warning sign. Nobody wants this person. Not really. You shouldn’t either.

It was Saturday. Louis had managed to move from the bed to the couch. He barely had any food left. He’d microwaved some popcorn for lunch. Closer to dinner actually. He’d woken up at four pm. It was too much work to set up the projector, so Louis was watching tv on his phone, a sitcom he’d seen a thousand times.

Louis was startled by a pounding on his door. He sat up and stared at it. The pounding continued.

“Open up kid,” it was Daniel, “This is an intervention.”

Louis stood slowly, tossing his blanket on the back of the couch. He shuffled to the door and swung it open.

“So you’re alive,” Daniel said, shoving past Louis and into the apartment, “I was worried I would have to break down the door. And then see a cat eating your corpse’s face.”

Louis closed the door slowly, “I don’t have a cat.”

Daniel turned to him, hands on his hips, “How would I know that Louis? You’ve been ignoring me for a month. You could've gotten a cat in that time.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis walked towards him a little, “I’ve been really tired lately.”

“Why?” Daniel asked, sitting on the arm of the couch and folding his arms.

Louis shrugged, “School I guess.”

Daniel made a skeptical face, “What’s wrong with you? Out with it.”

Louis rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m…yeah. I’ll be alright.”

“I know that,” Daniel said, “I’m asking what’s currently wrong.”

Louis looked down. His mouth worked. He could feel Daniel’s eyes, his steady gaze.

“I just um…haven’t been feeling too good. Still feel pretty lost. Alone kinda. Lonely. I guess.”

Daniel sighed, “Come here.”

Louis looked up. Daniel was holding out his arms. He gestured Louis forward, “Let’s go Du Lac. A hug is happening.”

Louis walked forward until he was standing in between Daniel’s legs. Daniel put his hands on Louis’s shoulders, “You’re not alone. You’d know that if you answered your phone.”

“Sorry,” Louis mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Daniel pulled Louis toward him, slipping his arms around his waist, “My fault too. I’ll harass you better next time.”

Daniel was lower than Louis sitting on the couch arm like that. It was easy for Louis to rest his head on his shoulder. Daniel was such a solid guy. Strong. Warm. The sound of his breathing in Louis’s ear was soothing. Louis stood like that for a long time. Daniel rubbed circles on Louis’s back, occasionally squeezing him closer. It felt good to be hugged tight. All of this felt shockingly good. Louis felt a soft warmth travel up him from his toes to the top of his head. The weight on his chest grew lighter and lighter the longer Daniel held him. It was easier to breathe.

Louis didn’t know how long it had been when Daniel finally pulled away. He smiled up at Louis, “Feel better?”

Louis kissed him. Leaned forward and pressed his lips to Daniel’s without a thought. He needed to. Daniel went still. Louis looped his arms around Daniel’s neck. He wanted to be close again. Wanted to touch, to feel someone who cared about him, someone he cared about. Daniel’s mouth softened. His hand rose to Louis’s face. He started to kiss him back—

“Whoa,” Daniel stood up abruptly, “Okay. Didn’t come here for that, that's for damn sure.”

He edged around Louis and walked towards the door. Louis didn’t say anything, just turned around to look at him.

Daniel had his hand on the doorknob. He sighed.

“Look Louis, I’m all for making terrible sexual decisions in your twenties. It’s what they’re for. But I’m not the guy okay. And I get it, you're lonely. And I know you think it’ll—”

“Daniel,” Louis cut him off. He didn’t want to hear any of this, “Can you just…take care of me please?”

Daniel’s mouth parted slowly. He stared at Louis.

“f*ck me,” Daniel groaned.

Then he was coming at Louis and he had his face in his hands and was kissing him, his tongue was in Louis’s mouth, and he was being aggressive, and his hands were everywhere. Good. Louis wanted to be overwhelmed. Daniel got them to the bedroom and he tore at Louis’s clothes and Louis slipped his hands under Daniel’s shirt. He needed to feel his skin. So warm. So alive. Louis couldn’t get close enough to him. He wanted Daniel to crush him completely. He might’ve said so, because Daniel moaned against his mouth and shoved him back onto the bed, covering him with his body, wrapping Louis’s legs around his waist. Daniel knew what he was doing, and Louis didn’t have to do anything except feel it, let his mind shut down completely, and feel it. And for a long time, there was nothing but feeling. No thinking. No memory. No loneliness. Just feeling, and closeness, and thank god. Thank god.

Chapter 32: I contrived to find a pleasure

Chapter Text

Daniel and Louis lay next to one another in Louis’s bed, catching their breath. Louis watched the ceiling fan whir, and the shadows creep from the corners as the sun began to set slowly outside. It was setting earlier now. It was almost fall. Louis loved fall.

Louis could feel Daniel tense up beside him. Hear him sigh deeply. In his peripheral vision, he saw Daniel cover his face with his hands.

Louis didn’t feel tense. He felt boneless.

Daniel sat up abruptly. Louis grabbed his forearm.

“Don’t leave,” Louis said.

Daniel turned to look at him for a long moment, “I’m not leaving.”

Daniel slid on his boxers and walked out of the bedroom. Louis heard him go into the bathroom. Then he heard him go into the kitchen. Louis pulled on his own boxers, went to the bathroom, then sat down on the bed. He didn’t hear Daniel doing anything. Was he just standing in the kitchen?

“Glasses?” Daniel called.

“Above the stove,” Louis called back.

After a moment Daniel came back with two glasses of water and passed one to Louis. Daniel didn’t sit back down. He leaned against the wall across from the bed and took a drink.

“Don’t leave,” Louis repeated.

Daniel didn’t reply. He shoved a hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How…” Daniel took a breath, “How do you feel?”

Louis looked down at his lap and thought about it for a moment. He felt less inhuman. More awake. Less like he was stranded out at sea alone. He didn’t know how to explain that to Daniel so he just said, “Taken care of.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. He laughed in disbelief, “Your regret has a long fuse.”

Louis shifted towards Daniel slightly, “Do you regret it?”

If Daniel regretted it then Louis would. Louis had asked for this. Felt like he needed it. But he needed Daniel to be his friend more. Louis didn't want to have to regret this. He regretted enough.

Daniel looked away, chewed on the inside of his lip, “I don’t want to be an asshole Louis…you were really…I don’t want to be that guy.”

Louis understood, “You didn’t take advantage of my whole. Situation.”

Daniel’s mouth flattened, “Sure.”

“You didn’t,” Louis insisted, “I asked.”

“Sad people ask for a lot of stuff Louis. They don’t always have the best ideas,” Daniel said.

Louis paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to navigate this. Wasn’t sure what this was.

“I’m less sad now,” he said softly.

Daniel sighed, “Good. I guess. Hope that feeling lasts.”

Louis looked down again. He rotated his glass of water between his palms, then took a sip.

“You know,” Louis said, looking back up at Daniel, “I think you’re my best friend.”

Daniel’s face softened. He took a half step forward, then collapsed back against the wall, “Man…”

“I know it sounds childish, alright. I know you think I’m a stupid kid,” Louis said, “I just can’t remember the last time I had a friend like you. I don’t know if I ever have. Actually, I know I haven’t. Never.”

Daniel hung his head. He put his glass of water on the dresser and sat down across from Louis on the bed.

“So to answer your question. I feel fine. Better than when you showed up,” Louis stood up and set his water next to Daniel’s, “I might have complicated ass feelings later. But right now? I’m fine.”

Daniel watched Louis as he sat back down on the bed, his eyes searching. When he spoke his voice was gentle, “It doesn’t sound childish. Well actually. Yeah, it does a little. But it’s cool. You’re my best friend too.”

Louis smiled at him. Daniel smiled back. They just sat there for a moment, smiling at each other.

“Alright,” Daniel leaned back on his palms, "I think a one-night stand between friends is allowed. I’m sure I read that in some rule book. But that’s it. Any more of this,” Daniel gestured between them, “Isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?” Louis asked, genuinely curious. He had no idea whether it was a good idea or not. If he’d want it again or not.

“Cause I know you pretty well by now, and I know what you want. And getting tangled up with me ain’t it,” Daniel said.

Louis flopped back on the bed, “What if it is?”

Who knew? It might be. Who knew what he would want when he started to want things again?

“It’s not,” Daniel said.

Louis put his hands behind his head, “What do you want?”

Daniel leaned forward so he could see Louis’s face, “Look. I wanted this. Not like this precisely. But yeah. So no. I don't regret it.”

Louis sighed in relief.

“But,” Louis said.

“But,” Daniel repeated, “I care about you. I can care about you better as a friend.”

“Okay,” Louis nodded, “But what do you want?”

Daniel looked away and sighed, “At the end of the day, I’m a one-partner kind of person.”

Louis looked back up at the ceiling. The shadows had crept further inward.

“Me too,” Louis said.

Daniel leaned back to lie down at the foot of the bed. They lay together in silence for a long while, minds on parallel tracks.

Finally, Daniel sat up, “I should get going.”

Louis sat up too. He didn’t want him to go. It was better with him here. Louis wanted to go on feeling better, he knew that much.

“This rule book of yours. It said only one one-night-stand?” Louis asked slowly, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Daniel said suspiciously.

Louis gestured to the fading sunlight, “It’s not actually night yet.”

Daniel looked incredulous.

Louis raised his hands, “I’m just trying to follow the rules.”

Daniel threw his head back and laughed. Then, before Louis knew what he was doing, Daniel was above him, and they were kissing again.

There was no food in Louis’s apartment, and they were ravenous in the morning. Daniel wanted a “f*cking huge stack of pancakes.”

Louis was already dreading him leaving. He’d woken up dreading it. Dreaded it as he got in the shower after Daniel took his. Dreaded it as he got dressed to go out. Daniel was a light against the encroaching darkness.

Louis did feel better. Like a person again. The gnawing hopelessness was less fierce. It felt like he might be alright one day after all. Hopefully, he could carry that feeling with him even when Daniel left. He couldn’t very well use the man as a security blanket. Daniel was his friend, and he needed to remember he had those. That he had the hope of making more.

But Louis didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts. Didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to give in to the urge to let the cold blow through the empty places inside him, dwelling on what he lost.

“Your hair has gotten so big,” Daniel said, snapping Louis out of his thoughts. They walked out of the front door of Louis’s building and onto the street. The breakfast place wasn’t far.

“I know,” Louis said, “Biggest it’s ever been.”

“It looks good,” Daniel said, “Should I let mine grow out?”

“No,” Louis said firmly.

“Okay well. You could at least pretend to think about it,” Daniel said.

Louis's phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it.

He stopped in his tracks and answered immediately.

“Hello,” he said, breathless.

“He’s making us move to France! To Gabrielle’s stupid nasty farm! The wifi is terrible there, and data doesn’t work at all! And it’s your fault! You made him all weird! I hate you! You f*cking suck!”

The line went dead.

Louis lowered his phone and stared at the screen.

Claudia.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel was in front of him, brow drawn in concern.

Louis looked up at Daniel.

“Claudia called me,” he said slowly, “And told me she hated me. And that I f*cking suck.”

Daniel winced.

“No,” Louis shook his head, “No you don’t get it. She called me. She called me. She called me!”

A huge smile spread slowly across Louis’s face. Daniel was looking at him like he’d lost it, “And that’s…good?”

“Yes!” Louis started to laugh, “Yes it’s good!”

It was so good! Claudia calling him pissed and cussing was better than her not calling him at all. So much better! He could work with that!

Louis punched the air multiple times, “Yes!”

Daniel laughed at him, “Great! If you say so. It f*cking rules!”

“It does f*cking rule!” Louis bounced on his toes, “Hell yeah!”

“Hell yeah!” Daniel yelled back.

Louis couldn’t stop laughing. Half the weight he carried was gone. She’d stopped hiding from him.

He threw his arms around Daniel’s neck. He had a best friend! And Claudia was talking to him! He squeezed Daniel tight.

Daniel laughed even harder. He lifted Louis slightly off his feet, even spun him a little.

“Alright alright,” Louis said, still laughing, “Don’t toss me around. I’m a grown man alright.”

“Sure kid,” Daniel said, releasing him, “Let’s go eat.”

It was marginally easier to get himself to class on Monday. Marginally easier was excellent. It meant that strange, formless morning sadness dissipated a little quicker. It meant he only snoozed his alarm twice instead of three times, and would actually be on time. And when he’d texted Claudia good morning, just for a moment, he'd seen her text bubble pop up too. What did she mean, he was making them move to France? And what was this about a farm? Louis couldn't bring himself to call Lestat to find out. Plus, he wanted to hear it from her. Now that he’d gotten a little information from her he was desperate for more. To make sure she was okay. She hadn’t sounded okay. She’d sounded angry. But she’d called him to express that anger. Louis kept reminding himself that he could work with that.

Maybe he’d contribute to the discussion today. Louis hadn’t talked much in his seminars. At first, he’d been too paranoid, and then he hadn’t cared. His cohort would probably be shocked to discover he actually had thoughts. Look at that, the talking dog has an opinion on Proust.

The train was crowded so he was standing, gripping the pole with one hand and holding his paperback open with the other.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out quickly. Tonight he was supposed to see Armand at Daniel’s for dinner. Daniel said he was gonna tell him they slept together ahead of time. They’d both agreed it wouldn’t happen again, that they were better as friends. Great as friends. Daniel promised it wouldn’t be weird between the three of them going forward. Sure. Louis was nervous. Armand had said it was fine. But Louis was nervous. He looked quickly to see if the notification was from Armand.

No, it was from Daniel.

Just a heads up cause you insist on being uninformed.

A link. Louis hated links.

An article in People.

“Lestat de Lioncourt’s Ex-Fiancé Photographed Embracing “Friend” Involved in Cheating Scandal, Re-Igniting Infidelity Rumors”

The photos were from yesterday morning when Louis was happy about Claudia, and Daniel and he had hugged.

They looked really happy in those pictures. They were actually really nice pictures. A voyeuristic glimpse of joy. Both he and Daniel were smiling so big in all of them. In one they were embracing, Louis's feet hovering off the ground slightly. In another, he was holding Daniels's arms and leaping in the air. In another, they were strolling happily down the street to the restaurant, and Louis was playfully shoving Daniel’s shoulder.

Louis saw the photos for what they were. A good moment between friends.

Louis found he didn’t have the energy to care what anyone else saw.

Louis got a text in class. He checked to see if it was Armand.

It wasn’t. It was Lestat.

Are you with him now?

Louis stared at it. The class discussion faded around him. It was slightly less painful to receive a text from him than a call. At least he didn't have to hear his voice.

No. I’m not with him. I’m not with anyone. How could I be?Louis thought.

Lestat. The sun.

Louis put his phone face down on his desk and tried to tune back into the discussion. That didn’t work. He was too disoriented now. Disoriented by a single text. Louis picked up his phone, deleted the whole text thread, and shoved his phone in his backpack. He didn’t respond.

Chapter 33: the life and soul of the party

Chapter Text

Armand and Daniel were already cooking by the time Louis got there. Armand was slicing tomatoes and Daniel was standing over the stove. The door had been unlocked as usual, so Louis let himself in.

“I’m just excited to actually start,” Armand was saying, “These delays made me think it might not happen.”

“I don’t want to be in the front opening night. It’s too close I want to be like three rows back,” Daniel said. They both turned to Louis.

“Hey,” Louis said, kicking off his shoes.

“Hey,” Daniel said, his smile reassuring. He said it wouldn’t be weird.

Armand didn’t say anything. He set his knife down and walked around the counter toward Louis. Louis stared at him, and Armand kept approaching, getting closer. He reached above Louis’s head and shut the door behind him.

“I refuse to be left out completely,” Armand said, grasping Louis’s chin in his hand and tilting his head up, raising his eyebrows in question. Louis didn’t move. Armand ducked his head and kissed Louis, a proper movie kiss, long, slow, and expertly done. When Armand released him, Louis was unsteady on his feet and out of breath.

Armand smiled brightly at him, then turned and walked back into the kitchen, resuming his slicing.

Daniel had a disbelieving smile on his face, and he shook his head slowly, “You’re insane.”

Armand shrugged. Louis went at sat on the arm of the couch. Armand Taran, the movie star, had just laid one on him good.

“You know,” Armand gestured with his knife, “You two could have let me watch at least. I’ve kept my distance from Louis out of my love for my friend, but I don’t think watching would have crossed any boundaries.”

“You don’t think watching would have crossed any boundaries?” Daniel turned fully around, “What do you think a boundary is?”

Louis’s face burned.

“Well it wouldn’t have crossed any of mine ,” Armand said.

“Sure,” Daniel turned around to the stove. Louis saw he was flipping burgers, “Name a boundary you have to cross. I’ll wait.”

Armand glanced over his shoulder, “Well we can’t all be paragons of virtue like you Daniel.”

Armand’s voice was caustic. Louis began to feel uncomfortable.

Daniel laughed bitterly, “I hardly think you have to be a paragon of virtue to not want your boyfriend watching you f*ck your friend. Jesus Christ. Some of us take sh*t seriously,” Daniel smacked down his spatula and turned around.

Armand straightened and put his knife down. He turned to Daniel.

“You always accuse me of being unserious when the fact is I just take different things seriously than you.”

"Okay. Now name a thing you take seriously. I'll wait for that too."

Louis stood up, “I’m gonna go.”

They both looked over at him like they’d forgotten he was there.

Daniel sighed and shook his head, “No. Man, it’s fine.”

“Yes. No need,” Armand said, turning to him.

It wasn’t fine. The whole room was filled with tension now. Both of their faces were hard.

“It’s okay really…” Louis went and slipped on his shoes, “I just think y’all need….yeah I’m gonna go.”

“Louis, come on,” Daniel said, walking toward him, “This isn’t a thing alright, don’t—”

“I’ll see y’all later,” Louis said, slipping out the door and closing it behind him.

Immediately he heard Daniel say sharply, “I promised him that you wouldn’t make it weird. You promised me you wouldn’t make it weird.”

“You caused the awkwardness, Daniel! Not me! And for no reason at all!”

Louis hurried down the stairs and out of Daniel’s building. He felt sick. Anxious. This was his fault. What if he lost them both over this?

All night he debated reaching out to one or both of them, but he left it alone.

Louis slept poorly and was actually out of the house early to head to campus. He called Grace on his walk to class.

“Okay. Alright. Okay,” Grace said when Louis finished telling her the situation with Armand and Daniel, “Okay.”

“Say something other than that,” Louis said.

“Umm. You’re a slu*t?”

“Not helpful,” Louis groaned.

Grace laughed, “I don’t know what you want me to say! I mean everyone was a consenting adult like…”

“Yeah. Somehow that never seems to stop it from being a damn mess,” Louis said.

“You told me they’ve been together awhile,” Grace said, “They’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, rubbing the back of his neck. His phone buzzed with another call and he glanced at the screen.

“Grace I gotta go Claudia is calling me!”

“Oh! Go! Love you bye!”

“Love you bye!”

Louis walked off the path and to stand under a tree, “Hi honey—”

“Listen! You have to convince him not to make us move to France! He’ll listen to you!”

“Claudia—”

“He’s serious Louis! He’s making me learn French for real. Like I kind of speak it but he wants me to speak it for real. Do you know how dumb French is? It’s so hard and so stupid!”

“I—”

“And Gabrielle’s farm doesn’t have good wifi at all! And data doesn’t work out there!”

“You’ve mentioned,” Louis said.

Claudia huffed, “You have to stop him.”

Louis sat on the bench under the tree, “When is this happening, the moving?”

“After the semester is over,” she grumbled, “In January.”

It was late September. That really didn’t give her a lot of time to learn a whole second language.

“And why? Did he say?” Louis asked.

“Yes. He says all the time,” Louis could practically see the sneer on her face, “He says too many people in LA care about who we are. But the people in the town where Gabrielle’s farm is have known him since he was nineteen and aren’t impressed.”

Louis paused, absorbing this.

“So…he’s doing this to avoid attention?”

“Yes,” she said, “He says nobody at the school will care who I am either. But they only speak FRENCH AT THE SCHOOL!”

Louis jerked his head away at her yelling.

“Do people care who you are at your current school?” Louis asked.

“Some of them. Freaks,” Claudia mumbled.

Alarm bells went off in Louis’s head, “Has something happened?”

She paused, “No. People are just freaks. Like I’m just supposed to let them be freaks? No.”

Louis leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “Have you been fighting honey?”

Silence.

It seemed like….it seemed like Lestat might be moving them to France for Claudia. To put her in an environment where she could be a regular kid. She certainly couldn’t be one in America, where Lestat’s fame was most pervasive.

Louis had a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard, “I think it’ll be okay Claudia, I really do.”

“No, no, no! You have to convince him to let us stay in LA! There isn’t even a beach in this stupid village! It’s a village ! Like from a fairytale but it sucks!”

Louis smiled. He’d missed talking to her so much.

“I’ll tell you what,” Louis said, “I speak French. I can help you learn.”

“I don’t want to learn!”

That had never stopped Louis from teaching her before.

“I know,” he said, “But I think this could be a great new adventure for you, moving to France.”

“So you aren’t gonna help me,” she said flatly.

“I can’t tell your dad what to do Claudia. It’s not my place. But I can be here for you. I will always be here for you.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Your so smart Claudia. You’ll be speaking French better than your dad in no time,” Louis said.

She huffed. But that had been the right thing to say.

“How can you help?” Claudia said.

They made a plan. Lestat had put her in an intensive French course for kids her age. It turned out she’d actually been in it since the beginning of August, and she also had a private tutor that would stay on after they moved. But Louis could easily understand why she felt overwhelmed. That’s what was lurking underneath all the anger. Louis wondered if Lestat had made any attempts to reassure her.

Claudia would call Louis and they would go over what she’d learned. And she could ask Louis any questions, or even just call him to practice. Louis told her to text him in French too.

“Great,” she grumbled, “Lestat will only speak to me in French and now you’ll only text me in French. I wished France didn’t exist.”

“He’ll only speak to you in French?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “He says he’s creating an immersive environment, but he’s actually just being annoying.”

After Louis hung up with Claudia, he sat on the bench for a long time.

Lestat was doing good for Claudia. Good in his own abrupt, dramatic way, but good. He was trying. It might actually really help her.

Louis missed Lestat so much in that moment he couldn’t move. He lowered his head to his knees. There was a fist crushing his heart, tears in his eyes, and he could barely breathe. It seemed impossible that he was going to go the rest of his life without him. Impossible and not at all worth it. Louis wished he was here. He wished he could touch him, hold him, be held by him, even for a moment. Regret made him sick. If only any of it had been enough.

By the time the worst of it passed, he was fifteen minutes late to class. Louis stood up from the bench, wiped the tears off his cheeks, and went where he needed to go.

Louis was learning you had to take the good with the bad. Yes, his two closest friends might be fighting and it was partially his fault, and yes, it seemed like he might be heartbroken forever. But Claudia had texted him that she’d learned the word pétasse. So that was something.

Louis pulled down his projector screen and put on an old show as background noise as he edited his essay. The anxiety and heaviness of the day receded somewhat as he worked. He had stuff to do. He could get on with things. This would pass.

His phone started buzzing. Daniel was calling him, and Louis picked up immediately.

“Sorry, it took me so long to call. Were you freaking out?” Daniel said.

“Yeah, a little,” Louis said.

“Well don’t, it’s fine. We fought for like twelve hours.”

Louis sat up straighter, “That doesn’t sound fine.”

Daniel laughed, “We’ve needed to have this fight for years.”

“So…” Louis began. What were the results of this fight? “Are you guys good? Or what?”

“Oh. We’re moving in together. Probably should’ve led with that,” Daniel said.

Louis was speechless for a moment, “What? How did you get from fighting for twelve hours to moving in together?”

“I was exaggerating. It was more like eight hours.”

“Still.”

“We just finally said a lot of sh*t we needed to say,” Daniel said, “And like every time we actually have a real conversation, the longer we yelled at each other the more it became clear it didn’t matter what we were saying. We’re it for each other.”

Louis felt a pang in his heart, “Wow.”

“Yeah. And I’ve liked having him around these past couple of months and he’s liked being around, and he hasn’t felt stifled so yeah. It’s not that crazy really. He still has places in LA and Paris that’ll he’ll be at some of the year. And he’s dicey on the monogamy thing. But when he’s in New York he’ll be with me.”

Daniel sounded so satisfied when he said that. When he’s in New York he’ll be with me. Satisfied and proud. Louis grinned, “That’s great.”

“It is great,” Daniel said, and Louis could hear the smile in his voice too, “You eat yet? We can try dinner again if you want. Order in at Armand’s so you don’t have to come all the way out here?”

“Sounds great.”

Louis hung up with Daniel. While he was getting dressed to go to Armand’s Claudia texted him she’d learned the word putain. So this day wasn’t so bad actually.

Claudia wasn’t nearly as bad at French as she thought. She was quite good actually. She was being really hard on herself and Lestat, which Louis could understand. She’d lived one kind of life, and now she was being taken to live a radically different one.

Louis began to piece together the situation from what Claudia told him. After his first album sold well, Lestat bought Gabrielle a farm in a very small town in western France. It had a population of less than 3,000 people when Louis googled it. It was where Gabrielle lived when she wasn’t being a nomad. It was a hobby farm, of course, not a working one, and according to Claudia, it was overrun by animals Gabrielle had rescued.

“There is this pony she has. It’s an asshole. It tried to bite me last time,” she said.

“Why are you cursing so much these days? I don’t like it,” Louis said.

She ignored him, “If it tries to bite me again I’m just straight up gonna kill it.”

Louis and Claudia had fallen into a routine over the last couple of weeks. She called him at least every other day, sometimes for French help and sometimes just to talk. It made Louis happier than he thought he could be these days.

Lestat ran as an undercurrent to every one of their conversations, the fact of his presence unavoidable. Louis ignored it as best as he could. He'd just bear it. Maybe one day, it wouldn't bother him so much.

He hung up with Claudia just before he got on the train to head home. It was October 4th, his birthday. Grace and Paul had called and screamed-sang the birthday song at him way too early in the morning. He’d even gotten a brief text from his mother. Armand and Daniel were taking him out, and Armand had invited some people he thought Louis might like to make it a real party.

He should’ve known that with Armand planning it would be an expensive ass night, and Armand wouldn’t let him pay for anything. co*cktails, insanely good food, drinks, a VIP room at a club Armand decided was dead, a different VIP room, different drinks and different co*cktails. Louis was having an incredible time. Maybe because of all the drinks and co*cktails. Armand’s friends were funny and glamorous, and earlier Daniel had given him a bunch of books he thought Louis would like, and Armand was a really really good dancer. It turned out Louis liked going to clubs, he should do this all the time!

Eventually, the heat from the dance floor became unbearable. Louis was extraordinarily hot. He told Armand he was gonna head outside for a breather, needing a break from the pulsing lights and the crush of people. He walked a little down the block. The night air felt amazing.

Louis didn’t think he was that drunk anymore, just pleasantly warm all over. He stretched his arm over his head, sighing happily. He paced back and forth for a while, sweat drying on his body.

His phone rang in his pocket. It was probably his friends looking for him. He answered without really looking at the screen, still ambling down the block.

“Hello,” he said brightly.

Silence.

“Hello,” he said again, drawing the word out.

Silence.

Louis was going to hang up, but then, “The tour was going to end on your birthday. Did you know that?”

Lestat.

Louis stumbled to a halt.

His voice sounded different. Darker.

“Are you drunk?” Louis asked.

Lestat laughed harshly, “No more than you.”

Louis walked slowly over to the building, resting his shoulder against the brick.

“I wrote you this song,” Lestat said, “This terribly saccharine, mawkish song. I was going to sing it to you, to close the last show.”

Louis couldn’t breathe. There was no possibility of speaking.

“You know when she calls you I leave the room,” there was a painful, ironic twist to Lestat’s words, “I don’t want to hear your voice anymore. Shouldn’t have heard it now. This was a mistake.”

Louis could say nothing.

“I apologize for interrupting your celebration. Happy birthday Louis.”

Lestat hung up.

Louis leaned motionless against the wall until Armand and Daniel found him and took him home.

Chapter 34: this cloud of doubt

Chapter Text

8 Months Later

“Gabrielle says that I shouldn’t try to make him jump or anything 'cause he’s old and I’m inexperienced. But he wants to, I can tell.”

“Absolutely listen to your grandmother,” Louis said, alarmed, locking the door to his apartment behind him. Gabrielle had rescued an older horse that Claudia had, inexplicably, named Shark. Gabrielle was teaching her to ride.

“But he wants to Louis. He told me,” Claudia said patiently.

“I’m not overly concerned with the desires of Shark the Horse, Claudia. I’m far more interested in your bones staying unbroken.”

“You are so boring.”

“I’ll be that. I’ll be boring and you’ll be safe.”

Claudia was adjusting fairly well to life in her new town, considering the circ*mstances. It was true, hardly anyone cared who she was. And the people who did care only cared because they’d known and loved Lestat for years, and Claudia was his daughter. There had been some growing pains at first. She was used to being one of the smartest kids in the room at school, and though her French was decent, the remaining language barrier had her lagging behind. She’d called Louis every night during those first three months, incredibly frustrated. He’d have her send him her homework, and they’d work through it together. It was incredible how good it felt, to be a part of her life again, even if it was only over the phone.

It had been about a year since he’d seen her in person. Since he’d seen either of them. Since moving Claudia talked about Lestat less and less. She had much more exciting things to talk to him about, like how the kids at school were very impressed with her outfits, how she almost got in a fight cause one tried to touch her hair, or what new animals were knocking around the farm. But he was there, in glimpses, always around.

We cut down our own Christmas tree but I didn’t get to hold the axe.

We got a new truck and I get to sit in the back on short drives.

The power went out and we had to eat all the ice cream in the freezer.

Louis wasn’t sure if “we” always included Lestat, but it did at least some of the time. Which Louis thought was wonderful, when he let himself think about it.

Claudia seemed better. Almost content. As content as a thirteen-year-old girl could be, with all that being a thirteen-year-old girl meant. Louis hadn’t known what to get her for her birthday. He’d agonized over it, finally just breaking down and asking her.

“Snacks!” She’d answered immediately, “Snacks, snacks, snacks! And cereal! Frosted Flakes! Froot Loops! Skittles! And Poptarts! Oh and—”

So Louis had filled an absurdly large box with every American snack she’d asked for, and many she hadn’t, and when she got it she’d screamed in his ear in excitement for a full minute.

It was so amazing that he could still be in her life. To want more the way he did was ungrateful. Louis should be content too.

He hadn’t heard from Lestat since his own birthday. Sometimes he would hear his voice, the finality with which he’d said this was a mistake. And Louis would be overcome with the kind of panic that came over you when you’d misplaced something vital, something absolutely necessary, and you couldn’t go on until you’d found it again. But he did go on. Life went on.

Louis made a few friends in his cohort. Two women, Brick and Rachel, and a guy, Matt. They would hang out at Louis’s apartment, working together or watching movies. Brick and Rachel liked to go out to clubs as much as Louis did these days, so weekends were fun. Louis had also struck up a friendship with the proprietor of a used bookstore he’d been frequenting, an older gentleman named Robert. Robert was plugged into the literary scene and always made sure Louis knew all about poetry readings, the author talks, the book signings. Louis would sometimes bring his cohort friends or Daniel along.

Daniel moved into Armand’s place in Manhattan, so he was closer now. Louis saw him all the time. To eat, to watch movies, or even just run errands. Daniel’s method of grocery shopping—go as fast as possible and grab the first thing you see—Louis liked to observe like one observed an animal in an obstacle course. Armand’s play had finished its run, and he was back in LA for a few months, but he called and texted.

It was difficult for Louis not to ask Armand how Lestat was doing. If he seemed happy in France. How his relationship with Claudia was going.

On a particularly bad day—which Louis had sometimes, days a feeling he could only describe as grief came over him, for no reason at all—Louis called Armand. He was sitting on his couch, cross-legged, already regretting picking up the phone, unable to put it down.

“Hello my friend,” Armand answered.

“Hey…look….actually. You know what? Nevermind. Bad idea. I shouldn’t have even—”

“I don’t know how he’s doing,” Armand said gently, “He hasn’t really been talking to me.”

Louis's heart squeezed. He sat forward, “What? Why? Since when?”

“Since he moved. I don’t think he’s angry with me anymore. He’s just been hard to get ahold of.”

“Was he angry with you?” Louis asked, rubbing his hand across his chest.

“Yes. We got into a rather big argument over his treatment of you,” Armand said.

“Oh,” Louis felt miserable in that moment, “So he doesn’t have anyone to talk to?”

“He has Gabrielle,” Armand said.

“Oh,” Louis took an unsteady breath.

“Why do you ask Louis?”

Louis pressed his lips flat, trying to pull himself together, “Sometimes it just—Sometimes I just miss him is all.”

Armand was quiet for a moment, “You probably don’t have to miss him, if you don’t want to.”

Louis paused another moment, and shook his head, “I don’t think so Armand. The last time we talked he sounded done with me. And even if he didn’t….I don’t know. Nobody has ever hurt me that bad in my life. I don’t know if he’ll ever stop scaring me.”

Armand sighed, “I’m sorry Louis.”

“Yeah.”

Louis was sorry too.

There was a little library on the second floor of the English department where no one ever went. Louis, Rachel, Brick, and Matt had claimed it as their own workspace.

It was mid-May, and they were discussing their summer plans.

“I think I’m going to teach a summer section of English 1101,” Matt said.

Brick wrinkled her nose, “Why? Do you hate yourself?”

“Freshmen aren’t that bad. I got a few actually interested in the material last time,” Matt protested.

“You got a few interested in you last time. You forget you look like that lil boy from that gay movie. With the peach,” Brick said.

“Or I’m a good teacher!” Matt said.

“No, that’s not it,” Rachel said, “I’ve seen you teach.”

Louis laughed. Matt looked at him in shock, “Et tu Louis?”

Louis raised his hands, “I didn’t say nothin.”

“Well I’m taking the summer off,” Rachel said, “I need a break. Walton has been kicking my ass. I’ll have to work but that’s better than grading papers.”

“I’m going back home for the first half,” Brick said, “But I’ll be back to take a course during the second short session. What about you Louis?”

Louis shrugged, “I dunno. Probably just take a couple of classes. Keep it light. One of my friends invited me out to LA, but I’m not really feeling it.”

He didn’t really want to be back in LA.

“I’m feeling it. Send me,” Brick said. Louis laughed.

Louis left his friends to go home to eat lunch before his afternoon class. He'd just gotten off the train when Claudia usually called him. She usually called just after she'd eaten dinner.

“Schools almost overrrrrrrrrr!” She yelled.

Louis laughed, “Yeah, it’s almost over for me too!”

“Really?” Claudia said excitedly, “You get summer break too?”

“Yup.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Come visit me!”

Louis stopped walking. Claudia kept talking.

“You could meet Shark! And I could show you the little baby pigs that we just got! I named one Octopus! And we could go to the beach cause Dad said he would finally take me to the beach! And we could—”

She kept going, listing all the fun they could have. And it did sound fun. It sounded like the best time Louis could have in his life.

And she'd called him dad. Louis wondered if Lestat could hear her say that, or if he'd left the room. He wondered if she called him that day to day, and how he felt when she did it. If it made his heart warm. Louis could visit, and he could see for himself, and maybe watch his face when she said it, and see if it made him smile, or if he'd gotten so used to it it was normal now. How amazing for them, if it was normal now.

He couldn’t do it.

“I don’t know honey. I’ll have to see…”

“It’ll be so great! I bet Gabrielle will let you stay at her house cause she won’t be here! Oh, you have to come!”

“I don’t know Claudia. Look I have to go right now, but I’ll talk to you later alright?”

“Fine,” she huffed.

They hung up. She wanted him to visit her. That was amazing.

But the idea of seeing Lestat was so overwhelming, so frankly terrifying, it almost eclipsed the happiness Claudia’s invitation brought him. Would Lestat even be okay with it? Surely not? Especially not with Louis staying on his property. He could barely paying attention in class, turning the problem over and over again in his mind. He didn't want to disappoint her. He didn't want to see Lestat. He didn't want to hear Lestat say he didn't want to see him.

Louis went over to Daniel’s after his afternoon class. Daniel was standing at the kitchen counter working on his laptop.

“Hey,” he said when Louis walked in, “If you’re hungry we gotta go out. I’m realizing I kind of suck at buying food when Armand’s not here to tell me what to get.”

“You’re just now realizing that?” Louis asked, taking off his shoes.

“Haha,” Daniel turned to look at him, “So look I got some bad news so I’m just going to rip that bandaid off.”

Louis's shoulders sagged, “What?”

“That expose on Lestat? Yeah, it’s back on. It should be out within the week.”

Louis went cold.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, “Sorry I didn’t know sooner. I kind of thought it was dead. But I’m hearing that it’s leaning more a portrait than expose maybe? So that’s good.”

Louis sat down on the couch heavily, flopped back, and stared at the ceiling.

“It’ll be okay. You’ve been through sh*t like this before now and you know what to expect,” Daniel said, closing his laptop and coming to sit next to Louis on the couch.

Louis didn’t say anything for a minute.

“Claudia wants me to come visit her at the farm over the summer,” Louis said.

“Yikes,” Daniels said.

Louis half-laughed, “Yeah. I don’t know how to say no to her.”

“Invite her here?”

“I guess. But alone?” Louis sat up, “Plus she wants to show me Shark the Horse. And Octopus the Pig.”

“That kid is so weird,” Daniel said approvingly.

“It’s kind of what I signed up for right? When I told her our relationship wouldn’t change?”

“I dunno,” Daniel said, “You didn’t actually marry her dad.”

“I’m aware,” Louis said.

“No, I meant if it’ll f*ck you up to see him, don’t go. You don’t have to hurt yourself for anyone’s sake.”

Louis rubbed a hand over his face, “Yeah. I’m just…beginning to think this will never be over.”

“It will,” Daniel said reassuringly, “It was just a really intense time in your life. You’ll get past it.”

Louis looked over at him, “Would you get past Armand, if you called it quits for real?”

Daniel paused then screwed up his face.

“Yeah,” Louis flopped back down on his back, “That’s what I thought.”

“Look,” Daniel squeezed Louis’s calf, “I’m not like an expert or anything. But if he’s it for you, he’s it. So. Do with that what you will.”

“Wow. So helpful Daniel,” Louis mumbled.

“I live to serve,” Daniel said.

Chapter 35: so grave and quiet at the mouth of hell

Chapter Text

Have We Seen the Last of Lestat?

What made one of the most famous people on the planet decide to drop off the face of it?

by Jesse Reeves

The first person Lestat de Lioncourt fired in the great purge of people in his employ was his publicist, Miriam Oh. Oh, a powerful figure in the industry, has worked with Lioncourt since he signed with an American record label at twenty. For years, a story has floated around that when Oh was asked what it was like working with Lioncourt, she said it was like “doing publicity for the Atlantic Ocean.”

I was unable to verify with Oh that she’d actually said this, but regardless, it is very telling that people believe she did. It speaks to how huge Lestat de Lioncourt is in our cultural consciousness, like the pop culture giants of old. Some likened his arrival in America to that of the Beatles, calling it the “French Invasion.” When he married fellow musician Antoinette Brown, there was a report of a rash of teenagers burning images of her. One could imagine his funeral service being as well attended and hysterical as Rudolph Valentino’s.

It is apparent to all those who’ve even seen him in passing, in an interview or on the red carpet, that Lioncourt loves an audience. And, more crucially, an audience loves him. There is a give and take between performer and viewer, intimate, seductive, something that cannot be taught. It is that, more than anything, that has made him such an enduring star. In a profile done early in his career, Lioncourt was quoted saying, “I love performing more than anything. I’m something when I perform that I can’t be in everyday life. And I hope I’m showing my audience something they can’t see in everyday life, something secret and wonderful.”

So why then, did this lover of the stage cancel the second leg of his world tour? Why did someone whose career is built on feverish adoration risk the ire of millions of fans? And beyond that, why does it seem like Lioncourt is intent on destroying his empire bit by bit?

After the firing of Miriam Oh, others followed in quick succession. He fired the entirety of his band, Amy “Cookie” Lawrence, Larry Stevens, and Alex Holmes. Like Oh, he’d worked with these people for years. They can be heard on his albums and seen playing behind him in hundreds of performances. And one morning, when they arrived at the gates of the community Lioncourt resides in, they were turned away.

“We practically lived at that house with him,” said Holmes, “And one day he’s just like you can’t come in. I don’t want you here.”

All three former band members attempted to reach out to Lioncourt, but he never responded. When they begged his Lioncourt’s longtime personal manager, Henri Roget, for answers, they were simply told, “Lestat is making some changes in his life.”

The next to go was his music manager, the hyper-competent Jay Campbell. Like Oh, she declined to speak to me for this piece, but Lawrence suspects she was fired for sticking up for the band.

“I know Jay, and she doesn’t take Lestat’s sh*t. She does what works, even if he bitches about it. Firing us doesn’t f*cking work,” says Lawrence.

The firings didn’t stop there. Lioncourt also let go of his entire security team, the second one he’s fired this year. The first he fired in Paris after his second show in the city, after his ex-wife Antoinette Brown was reportedly able to enter areas that were meant to be secured. Next was all the personal staff that worked in Lioncourt’s home. The chef, the housekeeper, the drivers, and the assistants who worked under Henri Roget.

As for Lioncourt’s actual company, Lioncourt Productions, Lioncourt actually fired himself. In mid-August a memo was sent out stating that Lioncourt was stepping down from his role as executive creative director, and all projects currently in the works for him would cease. Seeing as Lioncourt’s projects make up the bulk of Lioncourt Productions' workload, this meant that the company was effectively running at twenty percent capacity. Lioncourt didn’t actually fire anyone himself in this instance, but layoffs are inevitable when your workforce has nothing to do. And none of them seem to know why they suddenly had nothing to do, or they are a remarkably tight-lipped group.

After all this, Lioncourt himself disappeared. In doing background for this piece, I discovered the astonishing amount of coverage the singer has received over the course of his career. It seemed like hardly a week passed without some new image of him, a month couldn’t go by without a tantalizing new rumor. His brand almost has the staying power and omnipresence of Coca-Cola.

And then suddenly, nothing. He’d gone completely underground. Fans, clamoring for news about the tour potentially resuming, were met with dead social media accounts (he’d also fired his social media manager.) Months passed, and he wasn’t photographed in public once. There was no word to the press about any of the business changes. (Understandable. No publicist.) Then, Lioncourt’s home, the famous WC Field’s estate in the exclusive Laughlin Park, was put on the market for 20 million dollars and quickly sold. By that point, it had been three months since the tour had been canceled, and no one had seen Lioncourt since. Almost a year after the tour was canceled, and still no one has seen him or knows where he is.

Rumors abound of course. All of this uproar coincides closely with Lioncourt’s heavily publicized engagement to his former employee Louis de Pointe du Lac. By all accounts, it was a whirlwind romance. Du Lac, a former high school English teacher, was facing eviction when he took the job as Claudia de Lioncourt’s live-in caretaker and instructor. Within the year, Du Lac and Lioncourt were engaged and broken up. The breakup came after Du Lac was photographed kissing journalist Daniel Molloy. Both Du Lac and Molloy issued statements insisting the kiss was not initiated or reciprocated by Du Lac. The pair have been photographed together since then on multiple occasions, leading many to conclude that the accusations of infidelity had grounds. However, Molloy has frequently been linked to actor and well-known friend of Lioncourt's, Armand Taran, and by all accounts, the two are still together.

Nicolas de Lenfent, who wrote an explosive personal essay regarding his relationship with Lioncourt last year, doubts the broken engagement is the reason for the disappearance, “He was beginning to face real public scrutiny, after years of skating by on charm. It was becoming evident that he’d not only mistreated me, but also his former fiance, the mother of his child, and countless others. He doesn’t want people to know who he really is.”

A former security guard, who worked on the second fired team, said, “He just seemed done to me. Like he couldn’t be bothered anymore.”

A source who worked in the Lioncourt house in the last days believes it was all for his daughter, “She was struggling at school. And he didn’t know what to do, he just seemed really lost. She’s a very difficult child, but what child wouldn’t be with the life she’s had?”

Claudia de Lioncourt’s maternal grandparents, Reginald and Marion Carter, agree that the disappearance has a lot to do with the thirteen-year-old, though for different reasons.

“He’s always trying to get that girl away from us,” Reginald Carter said, “With all this nonsense in the press and on the internet lately we’ve been trying to take care of that baby, and he won’t let us.”

When asked if the Carters were attempting to reopen the question of Claudia de Lioncourt's custody, which was decided ten years ago in court, they said, “No. We want to give her some structure. Some normalcy. He can’t do that for her.”

Lioncourt’s disappearance may be due to none or all of these reasons. Lenfent’s claims do seem to hold some water. Since his essay was released, people seem more inclined to talk about their experiences with the singer.

One woman, who knew both Lioncourt and Maya Carter, Claudia de Lioncourt's late mother, during the time of their relationship, said, “He was cheating on his boyfriend with her, and she didn’t find out until way later. But by that point, he had her so obsessed with him that she didn’t care. And then he got her pregnant. He was so cruel about that. Told her to abort it, that he didn’t want to be with her anymore. That it had gotten too messy. She spent the rest of her life trying to make things work with him and he just didn’t care.”

The Carters feel similarly about Lioncourt's treatment of their daughter, “He would come around every weekend and spoil that child rotten but barely had a word to say to Maya. She was trying to do right by her child, keep the family together. He don't know nothing about that. He broke her heart again and again.”

Lioncourt’s past does seem to be littered with a trail of broken hearts. Besides his major relationships with Du Lac, Brown, Lenfent, and Carter, there are seemingly hundreds of men and women across the industry and LA at large who claim some former romantic connection with the singer. Many of these people are exaggerating. However, many are not. Eleven of the fifteen people I spoke to could easily prove their relationship with Lioncourt, oftentimes when he was in a seemingly monogamous relationship with someone else.

Across the board, he is described as unfailingly charming, romantic, and attentive. But when he is done with you there is no recourse. He is simply done. In this way, his relationships begin to look highly transactional. None of Lioncourt’s former partners describe a meeting of equals. Instead one gets the impression that he’s deigning to give them his attention, and in return, he gets whatever he wants from them. Again and again, I hear, “We always met up at his place” or “It was always on his schedule” or “He expected me to drop everything for him.”

One young woman described the end of their relationship as a “slow fade out. But sometimes he would call me or text me cause he felt like it, and he’d expect me to be around. And I was, 'cause he was fun. Like he’s Lestat de Lioncourt you know?”

He’s Lestat de Lioncourt you know? Yes, everybody knows, including him. But it seems like he might not want to be “Lestat de Lioncourt” anymore. Whether he is heartbroken over a broken engagement, fleeing from scrutiny, or trying to be a better father, no one can say. We can only wait, and see if that fateful, aborted tour was his swan song or just another scandal in a legendary career.

Chapter 36: to see, or hear news of, a friend about whom I had for some time been uneasy

Chapter Text

Louis read the article three times before his thoughts began to coalesce into anything coherent, and two stood out most strongly from the mire of his mind.

One. It cut deep to see himself in that list of names. Du Lac, Brown, Lenfent, and Carter. Many other exes hadn’t even been mentioned by name. Louis was one of several “major” exes, sure. But at the end of the day, just a name on a list.

Two. Lestat is alone.

The house in LA had always been full of people. It had baffled Louis at first before he’d realized the manpower it took for Lestat to be Lestat. Lestat poured so much into his music and his performances. Seeing Lestat onstage was like witnessing the revelation of a wonderful secret, like he’d hoped it would be years ago. Lestat loved to perform. It made him so happy. Show after show he would rush off the stage, exuberant, electrified, and kiss Louis breathless. And it seemed like he’d given it up, even beyond the tour. He’d shut down his whole production company. Why?

And apart from any thoughts of his work, Lestat wanted people near him. He needed people near him. As much as Louis hated his band he could see that Lestat loved to laugh with them and play music with them. They’d been friends of his, after a fashion. Now they weren’t. And Lestat wasn’t speaking to Armand either. And Jay, Miri, all those people at his production company, who he’d trusted and worked closely with for years. People who’d been a part of his everyday life. All gone. What was his day-to-day life even like anymore? What was he doing with himself out there?

And he sold his house in LA? Why? Louis had thought the move to France was as simple as Lestat absconding to one of his many properties, like a king moving from winter palace to summer palace. But it had been a huge change. A withdrawal.

The two thoughts warred with each other.

Louis is a name on a list.

Lestat is alone.

Why was he alone? Why had he retreated? What if Louis wasn’t just a name on a list? What if he was alone for the same reason Louis was? Because being anything else was unthinkable.

Louis didn’t want to consider that possibility. If he let himself hope, and he was wrong? Coming back from that would be near impossible.

Maybe all the changes Lestat made were motivated out of concern for Claudia. That would be a good thing. Maybe he had lots of adoring people around him in that little town in France. Maybe he’d moved on in the months since they’d spoken last. Maybe he was already in love with someone else. There was no way Louis could know. The only thing he knew for certain was that after they broke up, Lestat radically changed his life with no explanation to anybody. Why?

Louis paced his small apartment, trying to find a way to reconcile these ideas in a way that would cause him the least pain. Louis is a name on a list. Lestat is alone.

Both thoughts made him miserable, but only one gave him hope. Dangerous hope.

After a long debate with himself, he called Armand.

“I read it,” Armand said as a greeting, “There isn’t much on you, which is good.”

“Oh,” Louis hadn’t even thought about that.

“I wish they’d leave Claudia out of it,” Armand said.

Louis closed his eyes. He’d already known about Maya, so it hadn’t registered to him as a surprise. What did Claudia know? God, he wished the wifi on the farm was actually as bad as she said it was, so she’d never get wind of this. Hopefully, she’d mention it if she did, and they could talk about it.

“Did you know about all this stuff? With the business shutting down and the firings?” Louis asked, resuming his pacing.

“Well, I am a partner in the business. So yes,” Armand said.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this was happening?” Louis said.

“Why would I?” Armand asked, “It would just cause you needless pain.”

“Is he—“ Louis stopped, not wanting to verbalize it, but needing to know, “Is any of this about the breakup? All that he's done?”

There was a long silence, and Louis began to feel incredibly foolish, “I only ask—“

“No. Wait. Because I’m genuinely trying to understand your perspective here, Louis. I'm trying to imagine a world in which Lestat’s actions don’t have anything at all to do with your breakup. I'm coming up short, but give me a minute.”

Louis’s brow furrowed, “I'm not sure—“

“No no. I’m sure I can find whatever obscure angle you’re seeing the situation from. Just give me several years.”

“Armand—“

“Why on earth wouldn’t it be about you? It’s entirely about you!”

Louis felt that dangerous hope flair, “I thought it might be for Claudia…”

“Oh yes, because Lestat was such a wonderful parent before he met you. Of course, he’s trying to be better for Claudia, because of you. You showed him better was even possible.”

Louis leaned unsteadily against the couch.

“He came to Daniel’s apartment to beg you to come back. And didn’t you say he used to call you all the time?” Armand asked.

“Yeah. I thought he did that to everyone…”

“What do you mean everyone? Why would you think that?”

Louis’s brain felt like mush, “When I talked to Nicki…”

Armand inhaled deeply, “Nicki, I should’ve killed him years ago.”

“No,” Louis shook his head, “Everything he said rang true to me. Half the sh*t he said is proven by this article. And he said Lestat wouldn’t let him go. That he hated losing people and would keep you around even if he had no real intentions toward you. And it made me realize that’s what Lestat was doing with me. I thought.”

“Well you were wrong,” Armand said flatly.

“How can you be sure?” Louis asked, hating this return to unsteadiness, to being caught between hope and fear.

“I saw him with Nicki, and Antoinette, and Maya, and it was absolutely nothing like it was with you. That’s why he got so angry with me. I told him he’d botched things with you like he’d botched every relationship he’d ever had, and maybe this time he’d actually feel the consequences. That he deserved to feel them.”

“I…” Louis had no idea what to do with this information, “Do you think he’s okay?”

“No idea. Probably not.”

Louis started pacing again. He was filled with anxious energy. It felt like he was going to jump out of his skin, “I think I want to see them. Him and Claudia. She asked me to come. Is that crazy?”

“Daniel would tell you I have no way of telling what’s crazy.”

“But is it?” Louis asked, “I just hate the idea that he’s by himself and…doing bad.”

“You want to check on him ?” Armand said, sounding amused.

“Why is that funny?” Louis asked, turning on his heel.

“I just think if you're going to go out there, you need to be honest with yourself about why you’re going.”

Louis rubbed a hand across his forehead, “I don’t know.”

“Apparently.”

“I can’t know! I haven’t seen him in a year! And he f*cked me up! And I really do want to make sure he’s okay actually! And—I don’t know. Maybe if I see him, and talk to him, then I’ll know.“

“Go then. See him,” Armand said.

Louis sat down, “I’d really be doing it for Claudia anyway.”

“Sure,” Armand said.

“I really would. I want to see her so bad,” Louis said. He hadn’t wanted to say no to her before this conversation with Armand. Now, everything in him was screaming at him to go.

“Oh, I believe that,” Armand said, “But I don’t believe you’re seeing Lestat on some kind of Red Cross mission.”

Louis was quiet for a moment. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, trying to suppress his restlessness, “I’ve been trying so hard to be okay. And maybe I just need more time. But so far…I don’t know how to keep doing this without him, and I don’t know if I can trust him enough to be with him again. And I don’t know if he even wants to be with me anymore. Maybe he’s done, maybe it’s too late.”

“Well,” Armand said, “Only one way to find out.”

Louis spent the next day and a half trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Telling Claudia she needed to ask her dad if he could visit was a terrible idea. He could call Roget, who hadn’t been listed among the fired and was maybe still managing Lestat’s life. But that felt cowardly, and he’d have to talk to Lestat eventually if he was going to be visiting his daughter.

Louis would just have to call Lestat himself. There was no way around it.

It took a stupid amount of time to psych himself up. Once again he paced around the apartment. He checked the time difference three times. He considered calling Roget instead.

Finally, he just forced himself to hit call.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

What if he didn’t pick up? f*ck what if Lestat had blocked him? What if he’d changed his number—

“Louis?”

Louis hadn’t heard his voice in months. Hadn’t heard the particular way he pronounced the “ou” in Louis. He was rendered momentarily speechless.

“Louis?” Lestat sounded confused, surprised.

“Hey,” Louis said faintly.

“Is everything alright, Louis?”

“Yeah…” Louis shook himself and started to pace again, “Sorry to call out of nowhere, I know it’s been a long time. I just have something to ask you, but it’s kind of awkward. And I know it’s out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’ll understand completely if you say no. But I felt it was important to reach out and—“

“What is it, Louis?” Lestat said, cutting him off, his voice impatient.

Louis paused. Right. Spit it out, “Claudia invited me out to the farm for the summer. Which I know isn’t her place to do, but I’d really like to see her. And like I said, I know it’d be awkward, you know, because of our…yeah. I just really miss her.”

A pause.

“You want to come to see Claudia?” Lestat asked. His voice was frustratingly neutral.

“Yeah,” Louis said, “I was thinking I could get a hotel and—“

“We’re far from town. You’d spend half the visit driving back and forth,” Lestat said briskly.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Well I could—“

“Gabrielle lives in a separate house on the property. She’ll be out of the country for the summer. You can stay at hers.”

That sounded like he was saying yes.

“So…it’s fine with you. If I come visit?”

“Sure,” Lestat said, “Claudia would love to see you.”

Louis swallowed, “Yeah. I really want to see her too.”

They both were silent for a moment.

“So I was thinking I’d stay about a week?” Louis said, “Is that alright?”

“Sounds fine,” Lestat said. The business-like tone he’d taken on was disconcerting. Louis couldn’t remember him ever speaking to him like this before, even when he’d been his actual employee.

“Great,” Louis said. This was happening. He was going to see Lestat again after a year. He was going to see Claudia in person, and not on a screen.

“You don’t think it’ll be too weird between us?” Louis asked impulsively, immediately wishing he hadn’t. He just couldn’t feel him out at all. It was almost like they were strangers. Louis realized then that they’d been separated for longer than they’d been together, which made him feel heavy and sad. Lestat was Mr. Lioncourt again. Distant, desired, and feared.

“I’m sure we can get along fine. For Claudia’s sake,” Lestat said easily.

“Of course,” Louis said softly, “Absolutely.”

“When were you thinking of coming,” Lestat asked.

“Um, early June if that works,” Louis said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck.

“That’s fine,” Lestat said, “Text me the dates and your flight details. We’ll pick you up.”

“Oh, I can find my way,” Louis said, going to sit on the couch.

A small pause.

“I think it would be better for us to pick you up if you don’t mind. It’s not the easiest place to find,” Lestat said.

“Oh. Alright then. Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Lestat said pleasantly, and then he hung up.

Chapter 37: in truth? in the flesh?

Chapter Text

The airport in Nantes was tiny compared to what Louis was used to. A short walk from his gate, through a glass and concrete lobby, and he’d be outside. Claudia had texted him while he was still on the plane that they were waiting for him, in a parking lot a little ways from the entrance, so they wouldn’t get spotted.

After what felt like the two longest weeks of his life—waiting with nervous impatience for the day of his departure, waiting for the plane to take off, barely able to sleep on the long flight, waiting to disembark—he wished he had more time to prepare.

He walked slowly to a bathroom, looked at himself in the mirror, and smoothed his wrinkled shirt. Did he look any different? He didn’t think so, except for his hair, which he’d let grow out even more. Even his clothes were still mostly the same. What they paid grad students should be illegal.

Daniel drove him to the airport last night for his late flight. He’d been annoyingly neutral about this whole endeavor.

“Do you think this is crazy?” Louis had asked him immediately after pressing purchase on his plane ticket. He was sitting cross-legged on Daniel’s couch, and Daniel was sitting across from him on the floor, eyes glued to his laptop.

“I don’t have an opinion. Quit bothering me,” Daniel said, squinting at his screen.

“You have an opinion on everything,” Louis said, “Especially when I don’t want to hear it, and now that I’m genuinely asking for your advice—“

“Louis, when I invited you over to my apartment today, I specifically said do you want to come over and work together? Work,” Daniel said, glaring over the top of his glasses.

Louis scowled, “This isn’t your apartment. You don’t even pay rent.”

“I have no shame about being a kept man. Now shut up,” Daniel said.

He continued to be neutral until he’d dropped Louis off outside the airport. He got out to hug Louis goodbye.

“Thanks for the ride. You were useless otherwise,” Louis said.

“Yup. I’m Switzerland," Daniel said, releasing him.

“That just makes me think you think it’s a bad idea. You know that right?”

Daniel looked at him critically for a moment.

“You do,” Louis said. It mattered to him, what Daniel thought.

Daniel pressed his lips together and sighed, “Look. I watched you barely be able to get off my couch for weeks. And I vaguely remember a time when you were so depressed you actually wanted to have sex with me.”

Louis laughed, "Be for real."

“Okay, if you’re asking if I like the guy,” Daniel shook his head, “Then no. I don't. But I want you to be happy, and you haven’t been.”

Louis nodded, looking away.

“I just want you to be sure he’s worth it. If you’re sure it doesn’t matter what I think,” Daniel said.

He was right. Nobody could make Louis’s mind up for him. And even if Louis got there, and his mind was made up instantly, he still didn’t know what Lestat wanted anymore.

He was supposed to have texted them when he landed, but he didn’t. He was stalling. Louis walked slowly out of the airport bathroom, through the lobby, and outside. It was only 9 am, the day just becoming warm, the sky an intense, cloudless blue. Louis found the right parking lot. It was mostly empty, and there were no other people. Claudia said their car was red and “really old.” There was a red car way down at the other end, in the far left row.

Louis didn’t cross over to the left side of the lot. He stayed on the right side, gripping the handle of his suitcase, walking slowly forward, looking at the car. He was too far away to see them inside it, but they were in there. Claudia and Lestat. Louis’s family, for the briefest time.

Halfway down the lot, he heard music coming from their car. Music and voices. He didn’t know the song, but he knew their voices singing along to it. Some bombastic, eighties sounding tune. His steps slowed even more. He could see them now, just barely, the backs of their heads. Claudia’s brown curls. Lestat’s blonde waves. They were bobbing their heads to the beat.

Louis was directly across from the car now. He only had to walk across the rows and he’d be there.

The song they were singing reached some crescendo, and both their voices grew louder, nearly drowning out the radio. Claudia bounced in her seat so hard the car shook slightly, pumping her arms in the air in time to the music. Lestat laughed.

Louis didn’t want to approach them. He wished he could somehow see them without being here. Just see them, and know they were alright. He wished he didn’t have to bring all he felt and thought and knew and didn’t know along with him.

The handle of his suitcase slipped out of his sweaty hand, clattering to the ground. He bent to pick it up. The song was just ending, they hadn’t heard it. Louis began to walk forward, across the lot toward them. The car was old, maybe from the seventies, but not like the immaculate old cars in Lestat’s LA garage. The cherry red paint was scuffed and faded. There was mud caked on the tires and in the wheel wells. Louis realized that the roof was open to the air, a roll of canvas hanging from the back. Claudia’s voice floated through the sunroof and over to him, “Play it again.”

And then his voice, “That must have been the sixth time we’ve played it over the course of this journey.”

Louis stopped walking.

“It was the third time. You’re so dramatic,” Claudia said. Her hair was shorter, chin length and wild, a cloud around her head. She must have sensed Louis’s eyes on her because she abruptly turned around.

Her eyes widened, and Louis’s heart ached sweetly at the huge grin that came over her face.

“Louis!”

She scrambled out of the car, throwing the door open, not pausing to close it, rushing at him. Louis dropped his suitcase, and she was on him in an instant, arms around his waist, squeezing the life out of him. She was so much taller now.

Louis couldn’t say anything. His eyes were damp, and he was squeezing her just as hard, harder. He closed his eyes. His Claudia.

“I can’t believe your here!” She bounced on her toes, shook him back and forth. Louis laughed through his tears.

Claudia backed up, sliding out of his arms, putting her hands on his shoulders, “Are you crying?”

“Yes,” Louis said, swiping at his cheeks, “Yes I am.”

Claudia wrinkled her nose, “Stop.”

Louis laughed again and pulled her back into a hug, “I missed you so much, honey.”

“Yeah,” Claudia said, “I missed you too.”

This display of affection from her, free and unfettered, was the most precious gift Louis had ever been given in his life.

A car door slammed shut.

Louis looked up.

Lestat was wearing sunglasses. Louis couldn’t see his eyes.

Louis’s own eyes shifted rapidly from the curve of his lips to his hands at his sides, across the expanse of his shoulders, hungrily, greedily, like Lestat might disappear in an instant. Louis forced himself to stop, and slowly raise his eyes to Lestat’s face.

His pale blue jeans were frayed and ragged at the hem, his work boots scuffed and dusty. He was wearing a well-worn blue t-shirt, whatever logo had been gracing the front unreadable now. His hair was much longer, well past his shoulders, and the top part was pulled back out of his face, the rest hanging loose and messy.

Louis had never seen him in a t-shirt or jeans, but he wore them with the same easy grace as any suit. Lestat stepped forward a bit and smiled. His superstar, megawatt smile.

“Hello Louis,” he said. Perfectly pleasant.

Claudia released Louis, and tugged at his arm, “Come on, I want to go home fast. I have so much to show you!”

She bounded back to the car, not seeming to notice Louis hadn’t moved.

Louis didn’t return Lestat’s smile. He just looked at him. He looked a little thinner. More wiry. His skin was several shades darker.

“Hi,” Louis said.

Lestat ambled toward him, still smiling, until he was directly in front of Louis.

“It’s nice to see you,” Lestat said. Was it nice? Louis couldn’t tell.

“Yeah,” Louis said.

“How was your flight? I know it’s long,” Lestat asked.

“Fine,” Louis said.

“Are you jet lagged?” Lestat asked.

“Maybe, not sure yet,” Louis said.

“Let’s hope not,” Lestat said.

Louis felt like his mother was making him do the Sunday morning pleasantries at church. Like Lestat was a passing acquaintance, and they were both already thinking about what they were going to do when this conversation was finally over.

Lestat bent down. He picked up Louis’s suitcase. He rose, case in hand, and it seemed like he was closer suddenly. Louis looked up into his face, the dark glasses concealing his eyes. He must not have shaven in a while. Blonde stubble covered the bottom half of his face.

“Let’s go!” Claudia called from the car. Louis looked around Lestat. Claudia’s head was sticking out of the sunroof.

“The Queen demands our departure,” Lestat said, turning to open the trunk, depositing Louis’s suitcase within, and slamming it shut.

“Get in the back Claudia,” Lestat said.

“No,” Louis said, “No I’m fine in the back.”

Before Lestat could respond, Louis had walked over to open the right backseat door. He tossed his backpack in and slid inside.

Claudia turned around completely, sitting on her knees, “The ride back is so long. It used to be was sooooo boring going anywhere in this car, but I got him to put a Bluetooth radio in thank god.”

Claudia pointed to the modern radio unit embedded in the otherwise shabby, old-fashioned dash. The interior of the car was worn. Cracked linoleum, the fabric of the seats softened by repeated use.

“This is the only car we have with Bluetooth. The truck doesn’t have one, and neither does Gabrielle’s car. The truck plays cassettes,” Claudia pronounced cassettes like a curse.

Lestat slid inside, shutting his door and starting the car. His hair fell forward as he leaned. The back of his neck was as tanned as the rest of him and lightly freckled. Louis stared at that small patch of skin.

“Alright. Let’s be off,” Lestat said, pulling out of the space.

“Play it again!” Claudia said, reaching for Lestat’s phone resting on the dash.

“They use repetition of songs as a form of torture you know,” Lestat said.

“Look,” Claudia said, holding Lestat’s phone up to his face to unlock it. Briefly Lestat slid his sunglasses up and turned his head, and Louis caught a glimpse of his eyes. Then the sunglasses came down, and Lestat resumed driving. The song that had been playing before started again. Claudia sang along. Lestat didn’t.

Louis didn’t say much at first on the drive to the farm. He wanted to hear Claudia talk. She was bursting with things to tell him, excited to see him, like they didn’t talk all the time. She kept slipping in between English and French, telling him about her friends at school, which teachers she hated and which ones she tolerated, the books she was reading.

After about an hour or so she seemed to have talked herself out. Lestat hadn’t spoken much at all, except to update them on time or offer to stop if they wanted. Louis kept his eyes from straying to him, tracing over the once familiar line of his shoulders, his neck, the newly heavy fall of his hair. He kept his focus on Claudia.

“Tell me about New York,” she said, propping her head on the back seat, half turned around to look at him. He’d asked her earlier if her seatbelt was on, and she’d rolled her eyes so hard he only saw the whites.

Louis shrugged, “What about it? It’s New York. You been there.”

“Not as a grown-up who lives there,” she said, “What’s it like? Is it fun?”

“Yeah it’s fun,” Louis nodded.

“Do you go out to bars and clubs and stuff?” She asked raising her brows.

“Whatchu know about going to clubs?” Louis asked, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion.

“I’ve seen movies Louis,” she said flatly, “Do you?”

“Sometimes,” Louis said, “If all my work is done and I can afford it.”

She rolled her eyes, “You are so boring.”

“Please, you’d think skydiving was boring if it was me doing it.”

Claudia considered this, “Probably.”

Louis laughed, “I’ll have you know me and my friends have a good time.”

“What friends?” Claudia asked suspiciously.

“Why are you so mean to me,” Louis slapped a hand over his heart, “I didn’t fly across an ocean just to be bullied.”

“Yes you did,” Claudia said.

Louis laughed, “I have friends, miss ma’am. Their names are Rachel, Brick, and Matt.”

And Armand and Daniel. But Louis didn’t mention them. He glanced over at Lestat, but he didn’t seem interested in their conversation. Lestat’s arm was resting on the sill of the open window, the blonde hair dusting his forearm catching the sunlight.

“And they are nice to me,” Louis turned back to Claudia, “Maybe I should go home and talk to them.”

“No. I'm your best friend. You said so,” Claudia said patiently.

Louis’s heart squeezed, “That I did. And that you are.”

She half smiled and tilted her head, “Did you go to Times Square for New Years?”

“Good lord no.”

Louis told her about his life in New York, his school friends, his classes, his favorite bookstore. He didn’t mention Armand or Daniel, though Daniel made up a huge part of his day-to-day life. Besides Grace, Daniel was the person he talked to the most. He spent hours a week at his apartment, watching movies with him, eating meals with him. Louis didn’t want to create any tension, though it still seemed like Lestat wasn’t overly interested.

“We’re coming up on the town now. Our place is about forty minutes out,” Lestat said.

The town was tiny and charming. Lots of old stone buildings, clusters of trees, and winding, gently sloping streets. They drove through it quickly. Gradually the coverage of the trees became denser. The buildings more and more spaced out. Claudia began to talk excitedly again about all she had to show him. There were kittens around, and they were going to give away most of them but she could keep one, she didn’t know which one yet.

“But I’m either going to name it Squid or Barnacle.”

“Wow,” Louis said, “Those certainly are names.”

She seemed younger than he could ever remember her seeming, chattering on about kittens. His heart felt so full in that moment his own worries faded. Claudia was okay. She was even good.

“We’re here,” Lestat said. They crested a small hill, and a wide expanse of land opened before them.

Louis had only seen the farm in glimpses while on facetime with Claudia. A stone wall here, a tree there. He’d had no idea what to expect really, and was surprised at what he saw. Louis had some vague notion that the farm would be as elaborate and refined as Lestat’s other properties. But it wasn’t. It was a small cluster of stone buildings, one taller and larger sitting amidst the rest. When they turned off the road the driveway was gravel, and tall grass swayed in the breeze on either side. Beyond the house was a huge field, with a large barn and several outbuildings. And beyond the field, curving along to encircle the house, was a dense, dark forest.

It was quaint and rough-hewn. There was an old, very beat-up truck pulled off to the side, and Lestat pulled the car in next to it. He got out immediately.

“Come on, I’ll show you Gabrielle’s house,” Claudia said eagerly. Louis climbed out after her.

Lestat was standing behind the car holding Louis’s luggage. He seemed content to let Claudia lead the way.

They walked into a courtyard laid with old bricks, grass growing up in between them.

“That’s our house,” Claudia pointed up to the larger, cozy-looking stone house up the slight hill, “Gabrielle’s never lived in it cause she says it’s too big. It only has two bedrooms so she’s crazy. This is her house.”

Claudia took him to a small cottage directly across from the main house. She opened the sticky wooden door by yanking hard and led him inside.

“Dad put a new bed and a fridge and a microwave and all this stuff in here cause Gabrielle likes to live like it’s the Middle Ages,” she said.

Louis glanced over his shoulder to see if Lestat was around and if he’d heard Claudia call him dad. He was standing in the doorway, but he still had his sunglasses on. Louis couldn’t read his reaction. He set Louis’s suitcase inside the door.

Louis turned to look around the room. It was really nice. All one room, a small door to the far right Louis assumed was the bathroom. A bed in the left corner, made up neatly with white linens. A blue and white checked rugged covered much of the stone floor. There was a small kitchenette in the corner, with a sink and the microwave and small fridge Claudia mentioned. Stacked on open shelves above the counter were mugs and plates and a jug of utensils. Old lamps in the corners filled the room with a warm glow, and sunlight poured in from delicate glass windows.

“This is really great,” Louis said, taking off his shoes before walking further in.

“Let’s let Louis get settled Claudia,” Lestat said, “He can join us for lunch.”

Louis turned to look at him. He was half-turned away already, about to leave.

“I’ll come in a minute,” she said.

Lestat nodded and walked off. Louis watched him for a moment, striding away.

He turned back to Claudia. She walked over to the door and shut it, whirling around. She walked closer to him, her voice low and intense.

“He’s weird now. And sometimes it’s good weird, and sometimes it’s bad weird. But he’s weird. I’m just letting you know.”

Louis titled his head, “Okay—”

“He’s like, always around,” she said, gesturing with her hands for emphasis, “Always. And he stays in my business.”

“Claudia—”

“And he really misses you,” she said.

Louis opened and closed his mouth. His heart stuttered.

“I asked him once if he was like, okay. He didn’t say anything. He just like smiled and kissed my forehead. Which was weird,” she said.

Louis backed away from her a bit and crossed his arms, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Cause you’re here now, obviously,” she said, “So you can deal with the weird.”

“I’m here to see you,” Louis said.

“I know that,” she said, “But I’m not stupid Louis. You broke up with him and we live on a farm now. I know what cause and effect is.”

Louis breathed out hard and looked at the ground, “I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“Are you gonna get back together?” she asked.

Louis's head snapped up, and he raised his hands, “Wow. Okay. This is not—You don’t need to worry about any of that.”

For some reason he hadn’t expected any of this from her, which was stupid. Kids notice everything, Claudia more than most. He’d been too wrapped up in himself to think about what this might mean to her. She might actually want them to get back together, or be wary of the possibility of another upheaval. He needed to tread very carefully.

“Look,” Louis said, “I’m just here for a week. Let’s have a good time, you and me.”

She looked at him skeptically, “Okayyyyyy.”

As she opened the door she said over her shoulder, “Come up when you want to eat.”

“Alright,” Louis said. She shut the door behind her.

Louis immediately collapsed into the small armchair by the front window. Jesus.

It felt ridiculous to be so flustered by Claudia’s assessment of the situation. Yes, she noticed things, but that didn’t mean she understood them.

Did Lestat miss Louis like Louis missed him? Every moment on the ride here had been a struggle not to stare, not to drink him in after a long period of thirst. Louis just wanted to touch him. Even just once, only for a moment, to ease the longing in his chest. But Lestat had been so distant. So horribly polite.

Well, Louis was here now, sitting and agonizing alone was pointless. He changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, and went up to the main house.

Louis could already hear their voices from the porch. He walked inside. There was a staircase to the second floor across from the door. To the left was a living room. It was messy but homey. A large portion of the room was taken up by a baby grand piano, and a precarious stack of YA books sat on the bench. A bookbag sat open on the floor against the leather couch. Along the back wall was a window seat, piled with more books, a balled-up blanket in the corner, a pair of headphones sitting on top. A tv was shoved into a corner. Empty mugs and magazines littered the coffee table. There was a pile of shoes by the door. Louis slipped his own off.

To the right was a small dining room, and beyond that must be the kitchen, where their muffled voices were coming from. Louis walked in that direction, opening the door.

There was a big wooden table in the center of the room and an old stove on the left wall. Across the back wall was a farmhouse sink under a wide window overlooking the field. Claudia was kneeling on a wooden bench next to the table, making a sandwich. Across the table was Lestat, making his own sandwich.

“I think we should keep two though,” Claudia was saying, “Cause I have two names.”

“Eliminate one name,” Lestat said, slicing into a tomato.

“That’s not how it works,” she said, “I have two kitten names. Two came to me, so I need two kittens.”

“ Oh, they came to you. From the kitten name muse,” Lestat said.

“Exactly,” Claudia said, pointing at him with her mayo-covered knife. She glanced at Louis, "Hey."

“Louis,” Lestat looked over at him, “I’d be happy to assemble you a sandwich but you’d probably be safer making your own.”

“Make your own,” Claudia said seriously.

Louis walked further into the room. Sandwich fixings were spread out all over the table.

“I’ll get you a plate,” Lestat said, turning around and opening a cabinet over the stove, revealing a haphazard stack of mismatched plates and handing Louis one.

“Thanks,” Louis said. He found he wasn’t at all hungry, but he assembled a sandwich anyway. He listened to Claudia attempt to convince Lestat to let her keep two kittens instead of one. There was no way to stop himself from sneaking glimpses at Lestat, watching his expression, his eyes, which he could finally see. Bright blue. Wrinkling at the corners in amusem*nt. Widening in disbelief. His lips. Spreading in a smile. Parting in open-mouthed laughter.

They sat down right there at the kitchen table to eat. There was a shuffle to find enough clean glasses. A brief argument over who put the Britta pitcher back in the fridge empty. Another brief argument over who put the ice cube trays back in the freezer empty.

Claudia and Lestat talked through much of lunch, Louis contributing little. There was an ease between them that he’d barely gotten a glimpse of when they were on tour. She didn’t talk to him the way Louis was raised to talk to his parents or even the way she talked to Louis. She was even blunter, ruder, more combative. But Lestat seemed undisturbed by the sparring.

“You could give either Squid or Barnacle, awful names by the way, to a friend and visit it,” Lestat said.

“You’re being so stupid ,” she spat, “None of my friends live on a farm. This is where animals go.”

Louis would’ve gotten smacked for calling his dad stupid. He would’ve verbally reprimanded Claudia himself. But Lestat just said, “Doesn’t one of your friend’s parents operate a campsite of some kind? That’s similar to a farm.”

It was strange, doing something as simple as eating lunch in the kitchen with them. Almost overwhelmingly intimate. He’s never been this alone with either of them. There had always been people near, just beyond closed doors. The housekeeper, or security, or Roget, one of Lestat’s hundreds of employees. He’d never seen Lestat eat food that he’d made himself. This was the longest conversation he’d ever heard the two of them have. He didn’t know how to feel about any of this.

Louis wished Lestat would look at him. He wasn’t looking at him. It wasn't that he was ignoring him in an obvious way. But he kept his eyes on Claudia, or on his plate. When he attempted to engage Louis in conversation he’d only glance at him, asking him the most generic questions. What classes are you taking? What borough have you settled in? Giving the most generic responses. Oh, that sounds interesting. Really? I have a friend there.

So strange, the simultaneous feelings of distance and intimacy. Louis is a name on a list. Lestat is alone.

After lunch Lestat excused himself.

“I’ll be in the garage, have fun you two,” he said pleasantly, leaving them in the kitchen.

“Let’s go see Shark!” Claudia said. They’d left the table strewn with dishes, the jar of mayo open, bread falling out of the bag.

Claudia led him out to the stable. Shark lived up to his namesake in terms of menace. He was a huge horse. Not that Louis knew that much about horses, but he seemed huge. Louis was instantly filled with alarm at the idea of Claudia riding him.

She laughed at him, “You look so freaked out!”

But Shark was friendly, despite his size and the vaguely threatening expression on his horse face. Octopus the pig was exceptionally round. The kittens were with their mother in an empty stall in the stable.

“I should be able to keep them all,” Claudia said.

The change in her was remarkable. She tramped around the place like she’d been born to it. There was a brightness to her, a childlike vibrancy that Louis had only seen before in flashes.

It was a long, wonderful afternoon, and Louis knew if this time with her was all he got out of this trip, it would have been well worth it.

Eventually, they went back to the house. She showed him her room, and he couldn’t suppress his grin at the sight of all the books strewn about. She demonstrated what she’d learned on the piano so far.

“Are you taking lessons?” Louis asked her when she was done.

“No, Dad is teaching me,” she said, “Let's watch tv.”

As Claudia clicked through the streaming services, Louis wondered for the hundredth time if she’d read the article, read what Lestat had said about abortion. He couldn’t ask, in case she hadn’t. She hadn’t mentioned it in their calls leading up until now. But she seemed fine. Better than fine.

They watched tv until late, occasionally talking about nothing in particular. It felt like they had never been apart.

At around eleven Lestat stuck his head in the front door. They hadn’t seen him since lunch.

“Bed,” he said.

“But Louis’s here,” Claudia protested.

“I’m aware. Bed.”

“It’s summer,” she whined.

“You are so wonderful at telling me obvious things. Bed,” Lestat said.

“Fine. In a minute,” she said.

“Claudia—”

“In. A. Minute. God. I just want to say goodnight to Louis,” she turned away from Lestat.

Lestat inhaled, “If I come back here and—”

“I will go to bed in a minute!”

Lestat looked at her for a moment, his jaw tense, then turned and left.

Louis raised his eyebrows at her.

“I know,” she shook her head, “I told you. He’s always in my business.”

Louis scoffed, “Girl take yourself to bed.”

“Don’t you start,” she said, standing up and stomping towards the stairs.

“Goodnight,” Louis called after her. She didn’t respond.

“I love you,” he yelled after her.

“Yeah. Whatever,” she yelled back.

Louis smiled. He was actually pretty tired himself. After turning off the tv and lights, Louis left the main house to walk across the courtyard to the cottage.

There was a light coming from somewhere to his right, beyond the stone buildings that hemmed in the courtyard. That must be where the garage was.

Louis paused.

Lestat had been nothing but civil to him all day. Despite his doubts, Louis knew that civility wasn’t all that lay between them. He headed towards the garage, following the well-worn path in the grass.

It was much smaller than the one in LA, just two cars could fit. He couldn’t see Lestat as he approached, but he could hear him. The clink of metal on metal. A heavy breath.

Louis approached slowly. There he was, leaning over the engine of an old car, more beat up than the one they’d driven here. But Louis could see that it had once been beautiful. It was black, with sleek, long lines.

“Are you restoring it?” Louis asked. Lestat’s head jerked up. He stared at Louis for a second.

“Yes,” he said, “Well, I’m doing my best. I’m an amateur.”

Louis walked forward, “What kind of car is it?”

Lestat stood up straight and walked around to the car's right side, “Facel Vega. 1961.”

Louis walked into the garage and came to a stop in front of the car.

He looked at Lestat. Really looked at him, for the first time all day, staring unabashedly. He let his eyes linger on his face, every beloved detail. The golden halo of flyaways from his hair. Down the long smooth muscles of his arms. His huge hands, calloused and grease covered. The thin strip of his stomach where his shirt had ridden up. Back up to his neck, his jaw, his lips. His eyes. Lestat was staring back. Louis couldn't read his expression. It was just intense. Intense was better than civil.

Louis walked around the car to stand in front of him. He wanted to be closer. He could hear Lestat’s breath, how quickly it was coming, see how tightly his fingers were gripping the lip of the hood. Louis looked up into his eyes again.

“Louis,” Lestat said his name so softly that he wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been standing so close. Lestat swayed towards him. Louis saw the tension in his jaw, the movement of his throat as he swallowed hard. Louis stepped closer.

Lestat let out a harsh breath.

“Louis,” he said again, his voice rough, barely there. Louis just looked and looked.

He felt Lestat’s hands slowly trace up his forearms. God. Even just that. He closed his eyes. Sparks of light. Further, up to his shoulders. To the base of his neck, tracing along his jaw. Louis felt Lestat’s breath on his face. On his closed eyelids.

Suddenly Lestat snatched Louis against him, arms locked tight around his waist, Lestat bending to bury his face in the crook of Louis’s neck. God.

Heat swept over Louis's whole body. He pressed himself urgently against Lestat, burying his hands in his hair, feeling down his shoulders, his back. How had he gone without this? This simple thing was an absolute necessity. This was where he belonged.

Lestat pulled away suddenly, taking several steps back. Louis stumbled at the suddenness of the movement. He looked at Lestat, confused.

Lestat’s expression was almost reproachful. He shook his head. His voice was bitter, “I couldn’t even go a day without touching you.”

Then he was striding past Louis and out of the garage.

Chapter 38: my living darling

Chapter Text

Louis woke up early, after a surprisingly deep sleep. It was so quiet here, nothing but faint birdsong coming from the woods. Pale sunlight filtered in through the small windows, pooling on the checked rug. Louis lay there in the soft bed, watching the sunlight go from a haze to a beam.

He'd come back from the garage last night both alight and exhausted. He'd cleaned the grease from Lestat's fingers off in the shower, dazed by the evidence of his touch. Normally Louis would have expected to stay awake awhile, turning the long day over. But sleep claimed him quickly.

Now, in the morning, Louis felt a wave of warmth at the memory of last night. Lestat’s lips on his neck. The hushed way he said his name. His ragged breath. Lestat wasn’t indifferent. He wanted Louis still. At least physically.

I couldn’t even go a day without touching you.

He’d seemed almost angry when he’d said it, when he’d walked away.

Louis sat up and crossed his legs. Worries floated around vaguely in his head. Anxiety sat low in his stomach. His heart ached dully.

And yet everything had changed. Subtly yet definitely. There was no way to pinpoint when. Maybe it had been when Claudia ran so excitedly to greet him. Or when the three of them ate lunch together in the kitchen. Or when Lestat crushed Louis against him like he couldn’t stand another minute of them being apart. But at some point in the last day Louis had stopped feeling lost. He was no longer adrift, aimless. For the first time in a year, he was standing on solid ground.

A frisson of joy passed over him. Fleeting. Promising.

Louis climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. A short-sleeved white cotton button-up, worn in green fatigues. He wanted to move, be outside. That dangerous hope was buoying him inside, filling him with energy.He doubted Claudia was awake yet, it was too early, and he had no idea where Lestat might be. He just wanted to do something, stretch his legs.

Though the sun had fully risen, to Louis, who’d grown up with Louisana summers, it wasn’t warm at all. There was a light breeze. The trees rustling sounded like an ocean wave. There were wildflowers growing around the porch of the main house that Louis hadn’t noticed yesterday.

The beauty of this place struck him anew. The tall swaying grass. The luscious density of the forest. The openness of the field slopping gently down into an untamed meadow near the treeline. It would be nice to walk across the field to the barn, maybe look in on the kittens. Maybe walk out farther, to the forest itself. He set off.

Only a few yards into the field he saw him. Lestat emerging from the woods on the horse. To Louis it looked like he was going incredibly fast, the horse's hooves pounding into the earth. Lestat looked perfectly at ease, tall and relaxed in the saddle, holding the reigns in one hand, hair streaming behind him. Louis watched him race across the field toward the barn.

He was so f*cking beautiful. Louis felt an echo of that possessiveness he'd felt when he saw Lestat onstage. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Mine.

Louis started walking towards the barn again. He wanted to be near him for the sake of it. But he also wanted to talk to him, ask him about last night, why he’d gotten angry.

Lestat slowed the horse as he approached the barn. He dismounted easily, landing lightly on his feet. By the time Louis was near, he’d lead the horse to the trough, and he was drinking water. Lestat was kneeling by Shark’s front left leg, checking the shoe.

“I didn’t know you knew how to ride a horse,” Louis said as he closed the distance between them.

Lestat’s back straightened for a moment at the sound of Louis’s voice. But he didn’t rise or turn around, instead resuming his inspection of the shoe.

“Yes. I rode growing up,” Lestat said.

“Really?” Louis came to a stop a few feet behind him.

“Yes,” Lestat rose but didn’t turn around, instead going to add more water to the trough, “Gabrielle rode, and I liked to accompany her. Until we could no longer afford such a hobby.”

“Wow. It’s amazing she gets to teach Claudia now,” Louis said.

“Yes. Quite nice,” Lestat said blandly. He gathered the reigns and walked the horse into the barn. Louis followed him.

Lestat took Shark to his stall. He started to take off the bridle. Louis propped his arms up on the open stall door and rested his head atop them.

Lestat was resolutely ignoring his presence, his back very straight, not looking in Louis’s direction.

“Why did you walk away last night?” Louis asked.

Lestat didn’t say anything for a moment, “Apologies. It won’t happen again.”

Louis hadn’t asked for an apology. He didn’t want one.

“Why did you get angry?”

Another pause. Lestat turned around. His expression was neutral, “It really isn’t a cause for concern, Louis. I won’t get carried away again.”

He wanted to pretend like last night never happened. Lestat, who expressed every emotion he had the moment he had it, was hiding behind a wall of pleasantries. He was every bit as wary as Louis was.

Armand had told him he was wrong. That those late night phone calls hadn’t been a play he used on everyone. That he’d changed his life so radically because they’d parted. That he’d been hurt very badly indeed. A wave of tenderness nearly knocked Louis over.

Louis loved him. He’d known for a year that he still loved him, and it had felt like a curse the whole time. Louis hated that he’d been hurting, despite all the pain he’d caused him. It still mattered, all that went wrong between them. And it mattered that neither of them had been able to let the other go. But that didn’t feel like a curse anymore. It felt like a possibility.

Louis wouldn’t let this distance continue. He wanted to get into it, all of it, the mess and heartbreak and love. He wanted to see if they could find their way back to each other. If Lestat wouldn’t be real, Louis would.

Lestat had turned back around. His hair was caught up in a loose braid hanging down his back, swaying slightly as he moved. Louis wanted to tug on it like a little kid. Needle at Lestat till the mask fell away.

Louis leaned forward on the stall door, swinging inward toward Lestat, “How long you plannin’ on keeping this up?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lestat said, shifting the saddle off Shark’s back.

“Sure you don’t Mr. Lioncourt,” Louis said.

Lestat stiffened, “I'd prefer you didn't call me that.”

“I’m just following your lead sir. Since we’re being all formal and sh*t. Sir,” Louis said.

Lestat glared at Louis over his shoulder. Louis grinned at him. A glare was better than nothing.

Lestat turned away abruptly. He grabbed a brush and started tending to the horse’s coat.

“Any other skills you failed to mention to me?” Louis asked, swinging the door back and forth under him, “Can you fly a plane? Do you know karate?”

Lestat ignored him, moving behind Shark to brush his other side.

“Are you really good with Legos? Can you whittle? Do bird calls?”

Lestat put the brush down and started to lead Shark out of the barn again. Louis was right behind him as he took the horse to the paddock, unlocking the gate and guiding him inside. Louis leaned against the paddock’s fence.

“Can you knit? Skateboard? Do you keep bees?”

Lestat shot him another glare.

Louis smiled again, “I can do this all week.”

Lestat looked at him for a long minute. When he spoke his voice was businesslike.

“Claudia normally wakes up around ten thirty these days. She mentioned she might like for you two to drive into town to visit her favorite bookseller. You can drive the Citroën.”

Louis stood up straight and saluted, “Yes sir, Mr. Lioncourt, sir.”

Lestat’s nostrils flared. Why had Louis not picked on him more while they were together? It was fun.

“The keys are on the hook by the front door. Just let me know when you want to go,” Lestat said, turning on his heel and walking back into the barn. And of course, Louis followed.

“Are you coming along?” Louis asked, following Lestat back into Shark’s stall. He began to clean the saddle rather aggressively.

“No,” Lestat said testily, “I just want to know when you leave.”

“Why don’t you come? It would be nice,” Louis said, standing in the stall’s opening.

Lestat turned to him suddenly, “You came to see Claudia, did you not?”

The politeness was gone. Lestat’s voice was hard, angry. Good. That was real.

“Yes,” Louis said.

“Then see Claudia,” Lestat said, “What you perceive as formality is merely me trying to facilitate a nice visit for my daughter.”

“Are you saying you’d been mean to me if Claudia wasn’t here?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t be here at all!” Lestat said, his voice rising.

Louis titled his head, “Why?”

Lestat’s expression was both incredulous and furious. He threw down his cleaning rag and strode out of the barn.

“You keep walking away like I can’t just follow you,” Louis said, doing just that. Lestat was moving quickly toward the house.

“Mr. Lioncourt!” Louis called after him.

Lestat kept walking.

“Sorry to keep bothering you Mr. Lioncourt, sir, but I was wondering what you meant by your last remark?”

Lestat whirled around and stalked towards Louis. His voice was low and furious, “I am enduring you because—”

Lestat stopped speaking abruptly and inhaled. He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. When he spoke again, he was clearly trying to keep his voice level, “I appreciate you making the journey to see Claudia. It has made her very happy. Please just enjoy your visit with her, and leave it at that.”

Louis looked up into Lestat’s eyes.

“I came to see you too,” Louis said.

Lestat stilled.

“I missed you both very much,” Louis added. It felt so good to say that.

Lestat’s jaw worked. He just stared at Louis, unspeaking.

“Did you miss me?” Louis asked.

Lestat’s eyes widened. His lips parted slowly. For a long moment, he just continued to stare. Then he burst out in wild, hysterical laughter. He stumbled backward, a hand pressed to his stomach.

“Did I miss you?” he asked through his mirth, like it was the most ridiculous question in the world. The laughter went on and on. He doubled over he was laughing so hard. Louis just watched him, puzzled, a bit galled. What was funny? Louis just wanted to have a real conversation about how they felt. Lestat looked ridiculous, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

His laughter finally slowed. Louis had his hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently.

“Are you done?” Louis asked.

“Ahhh,” Lestat wiped a tear from his face, laughter still escaping, “Did I miss you? Dear god.”

“Well did you?” Louis asked, determined to have this discussion.

And suddenly Lestat was very sober, his face hard once more.

“Did…I...miss…you?” Lestat said slowly, flatly.

“How many times are you planning on repeating that?” Louis asked.

Lestat was in front of him in a few strides.

“Did I miss you?” he asked once again, his voice raw, “Do you not recall me calling you, desperate for the sound of your voice? Reading the books you loved to maintain some fragile connection? And then rereading them because you would offer me no more pieces of yourself? Did you think Roget begged you to take the money I offered for his own amusem*nt? And not because I was wretched with worry that you should lack for anything?”

Lestat moved even closer, looking daggers at Louis, “I search your name online nearly every day. And every new picture or mention of you is joy and misery, because I learn something of you, but must be reminded you are across the ocean with someone else. Did I miss you? Do you have any idea—”

Lestat stopped speaking abruptly. His jaw was quivering. It seemed like he was struggling to breathe.

Louis could barely speak for the tenderness that swamped him. To know Lestat had missed Louis as Louis had missed him was the very meaning of bittersweet. They’d been missing each other. How terrible. How wonderful.

Louis raised a hand to Lestat’s face, cupping his jaw. Lestat went rigid at his touch, his breath hitching.

Louis raised his other hand, holding Lestat’s face between his palms.

“So yes. You missed me,” Louis said softly.

Louis leaned toward Lestat, who wore an expression of pure disbelief.

Louis kissed him, a simple press of the lips. Lestat shuddered. Louis kissed him again, gently. Lestat shuddered again, an involuntary movement. Otherwise, he was immobile, his expression lost. Louis wrapped his arms around his waist, drawing them together.

“Louis,” Lestat said, helpless, his eyes searching Louis’s face.

Louis kissed him again, deeper this time, coaxing. Lestat moaned deep in his throat. He was heavy in Louis's arms. His hands rose to Louis’s neck, grasping him gently, finally kissing Louis back, opening for him. The heat of his mouth, the slide of his tongue. The kiss spiraled slowly, achingly tender at first. Building in urgency. Hands beginning to roam, under shirts to hot skin. Hips against hips. Desperately pressing themselves together, impossible to get close enough. That long-denied hunger overtook them. More. Closer. Long, greedy kisses. Pulling away, kissing the throat, the jaw, his mouth again, ravenous. Consume and be consumed. They’d been starving.

Chapter 39: gentle, soft dream

Chapter Text

Was the barn closer? Or the house? The muscles of Lestat's back flexed under Louis's hands. Louis urgently shoved Lestat’s shirt up. He should take this off. Actually, forget the shirt, Louis glided his hands down the hot skin of Lestat’s torso to the cool metal of his belt buckle, tugging at it—

Lestat made a harsh noise of frustration, jerking his head away, and stumbling back slightly. Louis’s eyes flew open, and he blinked at Lestat, dazed.

Lestat had his lips pressed together hard, his chest heaving, his hands in fists at his sides.

“What?” Louis said, moving toward him. Lestat moved back. Louis stopped, “What’s wrong?”

Lestat stared at him for a long moment, conflict raging in his eyes.

“Are you—“ Lestat inhaled sharply. He looked at the ground, worked his jaw, then looked back up at Louis, his gaze now resolute.

“Are you with him now?” Lestat ground out slowly like the words were being yanked from him.

Louis was reminded of that long unanswered text, “Daniel?”

Lestat’s face spasmed with some emotion, “Yes. Or any other man, if not him.”

You are across the ocean with someone else.

Louis’s brows drew together, indignation rising, “No. I’m not with Daniel or anyone. Why would I kiss you if I was?”

Lestat’s expression melted into one of profound relief. His shoulders sagged, a long breath escaping him. He tilted his head back, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just had to ask. I’ve seen so many—“

“DAD!”

Lestat dropped his arms and turned. Louis looked around him to see Claudia running across the field.

“I can’t find Louis and I want to go to the—Oh there you are! Come on, we're going to the bookstore!”

She barreled toward them, skidding to a halt and catching her breath.

“You’re up early,” Lestat said.

“We’ve got stuff to do,” Claudia said, turning to Louis, “Come on. There’s also this really good cafe we’re gonna go to. I mean, it’s good for this town.”

“Okay,” Louis smiled hugely at her. This was an excellent morning so far. It would’ve been more excellent if she’d slept for another hour, but ah well, “Let me grab breakfast first.”

“We can eat at the cafe,” Claudia said patiently, “I have a plan.”

“Oh,” Louis raised his hands, “I won’t interfere with the plan. My bad.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Claudia turned on her heel and started to run back to the house. Louis turned back to Lestat, who was watching her.

“She likes going into town,” Lestat said, “It feels novel to her. Amazing how quickly she’s gotten used to being out here.”

He was smiling faintly, pride and fondness lighting his face. Louis’s heart was full to bursting.

“You’re coming along right?” Louis asked, slipping a hand around Lestat’s wrist and tugging at his arm as he walked forward, looking back over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Lestat said softly, his expression wondering.

Louis turned to walk backward facing Lestat, still pulling him along,

“She calls you dad now,” Louis said, smiling at him.

“Yes,” Lestat returned his smile, “It’s terribly American of her.”

Louis laughed, “Does it make you happy?”

“Very much so,” Lestat said earnestly. And to think Louis almost hadn’t come. Almost hadn’t witnessed this new harmony between them. It was too much, the love Louis felt for them both. He didn’t have room for it all.

Louis released Lestat’s arm and moved to walk by his side, “We should keep all of this very quiet. We have a lot to talk about before saying anything to her.”

Lestat stopped walking. Louis turned to look at him, brows raised in question.

“And what will we say?” Lestat asked, levity gone, “What will we say when we say something?”

Louis tilted his head, “I don’t know yet, we have to talk.”

“You guys!” Claudia stood at the far end of the field, hands on her hips.

“Alright. Tonight then. When she’s asleep, we’ll talk then?” Lestat asked.

Louis nodded, “Absolutely.”

“LET'S GO NOW PLEASE!” Claudia called.

“The Queen demands our attendance,” Lestat said sardonically.

Had Louis ever had a better morning? Lestat drove, Louis by his side, Claudia leaning forward from the backseat, belting along to the radio, not seeming to care about their ears. The sunroof was rolled back, and the cool fragrant breeze filled Louis’s lungs. He couldn’t stop smiling.

They had a light breakfast at the cafe, the proprietor greeting Lestat and Claudia warmly. Like they were simply good neighbors, no question of fame at all. As they walked slowly down the stone streets to the bookstore, hands were raised to them in friendly greeting.

“I’ve never been out with both of you like this,” Louis said. He and Lestat’s hands kept brushing against each other as they walked. Claudia bounced along in front of them, “It’s so normal. Has no one posted pictures or anything?”

“I don’t know. If they have it hasn’t made much of a splash. I doubt it though. I used to come here all the time to visit Gabrielle, they find me very mundane.”

“Sure,” Louis said, “They all say to each other, that Lestat, so mundane.”

Lestat grinned at him, but his expression turned thoughtful after a moment.

“Has it been difficult for you,” Lestat asked, “In public?”

Louis shrugged, “It used to bother me. But now I don’t really notice most of the time, and it happens less and less. The pictures and the people coming up to me. And I don’t really go online so I don’t have to hear about it. If there’s something I really need to be aware of Daniel tells me.”

Louis had spoken without thinking. Tension immediately crackled between them. Lestat turned to stare straight ahead. Louis wished he could take the words back.

But Daniel was such a big part of Louis’s life, he would have to come up eventually. And Louis would have to tell him they slept together, and how close they were now. He was dreading it. Would he be able to explain? Would Lestat be able to understand, and be okay with it?

“We’re here!” Claudia ran ahead and threw open the door of the bookstore, plunging inside, not bothering to wait for them.

Louis wanted the ease of the morning back. He slipped his hand in Lestat’s and squeezed.

“We can talk about all that later,” Louis said, smiling over at him, “Let’s enjoy our day.”

Lestat turned to him, his expression softening. He squeezed Louis’s hand back, “Alright.”

The bookstore was much bigger than it appeared on the outside. It went back farther than Louis could see, winding passageways of shelf after shelf of books, new, used, antique. Claudia was already disappearing within.

“Wow,” Louis said, “It’s like a maze.”

“Yes,” Lestat said, “Claudia is a tiny minotaur and this is the labyrinth I trap her in when I need a moment of peace.”

Louis laughed and shoved his shoulder lightly, “Quit.”

Lestat grinned at him. Louis smiled back. And they just smiled at each other for a second for no reason at all.

Louis turned away slightly to look at the shelf near the door. Vintage books sat propped up on display.

“Oh,” Louis said, pointing to a vintage copy of To the Lighthouse and turning to Lestat, “Did you like it?”

Lestat eyes followed Louis’s finger. His expression shifted, sobering.

“Yes,” he said, his voice distant, “I did.”

Lestat turned away. “Let’s find Claudia,” he said, walking ahead of Louis.

How many times had Lestat read To the Lighthouse? Persuasion? Salvage the Bones?

Louis caught up to him. He was with Claudia, who was kneeling on the floor of the YA section, a pile of books by her side. She added another.

“Have you read all the ones we bought last time?” Lestat asked her.

Claudia looked up at him, “I feel like I shouldn’t answer that.”

He laughed.

Louis walked to the left, turning a corner, scanning the shelves. He spotted a book he’d read before, though not in French. Women in Love.

He turned his head, “Lestat, come here.”

Lestat turned and walked over to him. Louis slipped the book off the shelf and handed it to him.

Lestat turned it over in his hands.

“I love that book,” Louis said.

Lestat looked up at him sharply, his eyes searching, “You do?” he asked softly.

Louis nodded. Lestat looked away, blinked, swallowed hard.

“Do you see any others,” Lestat said, his voice rough, “Any others you love?”

Louis’s ached deep within, echoing all the aches of their time apart. He wanted to draw Lestat to him, hold him. The pain of the separation was with them, between them, though they were together once more. Louis turned back to the shelf, struggling to focus on the titles. Moving a couple of shelves down to a section of poetry, he spotted another book.

“This one,” Louis said, handing Lestat a slim volume of Sonnets from the Portuguese.

Lestat took it from him, holding the books in both hands. He looked up at Louis, “Any more?”

Louis turned away, choosing a random shelf to look over. He was inexplicably lightheaded. It took him longer to find another. Lestat was behind him, watching him search, watching his fingers run over the spines. Close, the heat of him, close enough that Louis brushed against him when he reached up to grab The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

“This one,” Louis said, turning and handing it to Lestat. Lestat grasped it gently, like it was precious, adding it to the small stack. Louis looked up into his face, and his breath caught in his throat. Lestat’s expression was intense, fervent.

“Keep going,” Lestat urged.

They barely spoke, moving through the warren of the bookstore, close, almost huddled together, Louis scanning the shelves with great care, pulling down one book, then another, Lestat carefully handling their ever-growing pile. Louis lost track of time. There was something unreal about this moment, painfully precious.

Eventually, they reached the back of the store. The stack had grown precarious in Lestat’s hands. Louis added one more, The Master and Margarita.

“There,” Louis said, “I think we’ve looked through them all.”

Lestat was clutching the stack to his chest, a hand on either end. His expression had gone from near anguished to something Louis couldn’t name.

“I love you,” Lestat said. Hushed, reverent.

Light exploded in Louis’s chest. He moved without thinking, rising up on his toes so he could press his lips to Lestat’s over the pile of books, hands rising to grasp his face. A clumsy, urgent kiss, Lestat moaning softly against his mouth.

The books slipped from Lestat’s hands, falling between their bodies, a loud thump against the wooden floor. Louis moved back, startled.

“My apologies,” Lestat kneeled and began to collect the books, restacking them carefully by size. His hair fell forward over his shoulders. Lestat loved him. Louis’s own love for Lestat seemed to pressing against the limits of his body.

“I love you too,” Louis said.

Lestat’s head snapped up. He stared at Louis, awestruck. Laying the books down slowly, he reached up and grasped Louis’s hands. He pressed Louis’s knuckles to his lips. Rising slowly, he unfurled Louis’s fingers and kissed his palms, his wrists. Unbearably gentle, intimate. Dropping Louis’s hands to pull him close, he kissed his collarbone, up his neck.

“I love you,” Lestat murmured against Louis’s skin, over and over, “I love you.”

Louis’s phone started to ring, startling them both. Louis didn’t even look at who was calling, just reached into his pocket to silence it. They stared at each other, catching their breath.

Lestat grinned, “We should go back to Claudia before she purchases the whole store.”

Louis smiled back and nodded.

Lestat collected their books from the floor, and Louis followed him back through the stacks, feeling like he was waking from a dream.

Chapter 40: my soul athirst and forbidden to drink

Chapter Text

Louis didn’t check his phone again until they were back at the farm.

After the bookstore, they walked down to the river that ran through the town, across the ancient bridge, and through a little park on the other side. They stopped at a boutique and Lestat and Claudia were predictably judgemental about the clothes on offer. Next, they went to the grocery store, Louis noting that they mostly bought food that required minimal preparation.

On the ride home, in the warmth of the afternoon, Louis was comfortably drowsy, his head lolling on the back of the seat. The sun warmed his closed eyelids. Lestat’s free hand rested on his. Claudia was humming softly along to the music in the back.

Back at the farm, they unloaded the groceries, ripping open bags of chips to snack on. Claudia made a pitcher of lemonade with seemingly no concern for measuring. They settled in the living room, the tv on low, the windows and doors open, the breeze flowing easily through the house.

Claudia was on the floor in front of the tv, legs splayed, crunching on a bowl of chips. He and Lestat would occasionally talk softly, but mostly they just enjoyed being near each other.

Louis's phone buzzed. He slipped it out of his pocket to check it.

A text from Daniel. Sorry to bother you during your trip, but whenever you get a chance can you give me a call? The call from earlier had been from Daniel too.

He’d never gotten a text like this from Daniel before, asking for a call. It worried him a little. He got up, Lestat glancing over at him.

“Be right back,” Louis said, going out to the porch and sitting on the top step.

Daniel picked up immediately, “Hey. Really sorry, wouldn't have called if it wasn’t important.”

Daniel’s voice was strained.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked.

“Uh,” Daniel breathed heavily, “I can’t find Armand. Or he won’t answer my calls. So I was wondering if you could call him and see if he picks up for you. Or even ask Lestat to check in with him.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can’t find him?” Louis asked.

“I mean I don’t know where he is right now,” Louis had never heard Daniel sound so stressed, “Paris, LA, any of the other million places he could be. Haven’t heard from him since the day before you left.”

“That’s only three days,” Louis said, “He might be fine.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not,” Daniel said, “Cause I found out through Divya that the f*cking old creep he used to be with died. He was with her when he found out and he just left. And I can’t get a hold of him and I have no idea how he’s doing with this. What it’s bringing up for him. And honestly Louis I’m kinda freaking out man. What if he’s bolted?”

Louis took a deep breath. Armand struggled to this day with what that relationship had done to him. Louis couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. And Daniel was near panicked.

“Okay,” Louis said, keeping his voice calm, “I’m going to call him, and I’ll get Lestat to call him. And they know a lot of the same people, maybe ones you don’t. So I’ll see if he can reach out.”

Daniel released a breath, “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, “You could’ve called me sooner you know.”

“I wanted to exhaust all my other options before interrupting your trip with anything heavy like this,” Daniel said, “How’s it going by the way?”

Louis couldn’t keep the smile off his face, “Really good.”

“Oh, brother. You aren’t married already are you?”

“No,” Louis said, “We’re actually going to talk and sh*t.”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Daniel said, “How’s the kid?”

“Campaigning to keep two kittens named Squid and Barnacle.”

“She rules. I’m glad it’s going well.”

“It really is,” Louis said.

“You know,” Daniels said, “I’m surprised at myself. I didn’t think I’d actually miss you. It must be the crisis.”

Louis sobered, “I’m sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Daniel didn’t sound convinced.

“I’m such a better friend than you,” Louis said, “I can miss you even when my life is going great.”

Daniel laughed.

“I’m gonna go talk to Lestat. I call you back soon,” Louis said.

“Thanks, Louis.”

“Of course.”

Louis stood up and turned around, brushing some dirt off his pants. Lestat was standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” Louis said, “I need a favor—“

“Who was that?” Lestat asked quietly.

“Daniel,” Louis said, “He needed my help with something. Actually, our help. Would you be willing to reach out to Armand? Daniel thinks he’s going through it and…”

Lestat turned around, and Louis paused. Lestat looked in on Claudia watching tv, then turned back to Louis.

“I think we should talk now actually,” Lestat said, striding past Louis, down the steps, and turning up the path to the field.

Louis, confused, rushed after him, “Can’t we just go to the cottage?”

“I don’t want Claudia to interrupt or overhear if she comes looking for us,” Lestat said, walking quickly.

“Okay,” Louis said, hurrying to keep up with him, “Anyway, Armand’s ex died. The awful one. And Daniel thinks he’s taking it bad. But he can’t reach him so he asked us to try.”

Lestat looked at Louis sharply but didn’t stop walking. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed, and held it up to his ear. Louis could hear the phone ringing as they moved across the field, heading toward the barn. Armand didn’t pick up.

Lestat left a message, “If you’re letting that man disturb you even in death you're a bigger idiot than I thought. Call me back immediately.”

That wasn’t the approach Louis would’ve taken. Slowing slightly, he texted Armand his concern. He called, but Armand didn’t pick up for him either.

“Hey,” Louis said to the voicemail, “I’m so sorry you’re having a difficult time. Daniel’s freaking out and just wants to know you're okay. Even just a message or a location share would make him feel so much better. And I’m here if you need anything.”

Louis looked up. Lestat had stopped and was waiting for him in the barn's open doorway. They went inside, Lestat sliding the heavy door shut. He walked past Louis deeper into the barn.

Louis slipped his phone back into his pocket, “Why did you drag me out here right now? We were gonna talk when Claudia was asleep.”

Lestat paced back and forth in front of Louis.

“Are you close with Molloy now? He tracks the news for you. Calls you in a crisis.”

Lestat’s voice was accusatory. Louis felt a flair of defensiveness, “Yes, we’re close. He’s my best friend.”

Lestat recoiled, “You’re best friends with the man who kissed you while we were engaged?”

Louis’s defensiveness only grew, “I’m best friends with the man who gave me a place to live when I was homeless.”

Lestat halted his pacing, “It wasn’t my intention to make you homeless. I was hurt, I was lashing out—“

“Okay, but I was homeless regardless of your intention,” Louis interrupted, “Daniel let me live with him for months. He did everything he could to make amends.”

Lestat inhaled sharply, “You lived with him for months?”

“Yes,” Louis crossed his arms.

Lestat stared at Louis warily, “Over the course of these months…”

Louis knew what he wanted to ask. That this would be a moment of reckoning. He steeled himself, looking at Lestat, waiting for the question.

“Did things ever become...sexual?” Lestat asked, barely getting the words out.

Louis kept his voice steady, “I didn’t sleep with him when I was staying with him. I slept with him after that. A couple months later. Just one night.”

The expression on Lestat’s face could only be described as horror. He took several steps toward Louis, halted, then stepped back.

“You. You slept with…Molloy?” his chest was heaving.

“Yes,” Louis said.

“You slept with Molloy. And you came here…” Lestat trailed off. He was staring at Louis like he had two heads.

“We were never together. We’re friends,” Louis said, “You’re telling me you’ve never slept with one of your friends? Actually, have you ever slept with Armand? I’ve always wondered.”

Lestat didn’t respond to Louis’s questions. He turned away, like he couldn’t look at him.

“Do you know how many pictures there are of you and him together online? A great many,” Lestat’s voice came out strangled, “Do you know what it was like for me to see them, and wonder, and think he was…with you. For a year Louis. A year. And you actually slept with him!”

“I didn’t post those pictures,” Louis said, “I didn’t make you look at them. And I was single, and his relationship is open. We did nothing wrong.”

“He kissed you! He kissed you when you were mine!” Lestat’s voice rose, “He is the reason I lost you!”

“You are the reason you lost me!” Louis took a step forward, “For f*cks sake, it was a peck on the lips! He apologized immediately!”

“And then he f*cked you the first time he got the chance,” Lestat snarled.

“That’s not what happened,” Louis said, “I asked him to—“

“Don’t!” Lestat threw his hand up to stop Louis’s words, “Don’t! I will not hear this!”

“Maybe if you understood the circ*mstances—“

“The circ*mstances don’t matter,” Lestat yelled, “The fact remains that he attempted to come between us, f*cked you, and now calls you when he’s feeling sad! I cannot have it!”

“What the f*ck does that mean?” Louis straightened, dropping his arms.

“How can you think I would be alright with him being a presence in your life?” Lestat implored him, “I never liked him, and now my dislike has turned firmly to hatred.”

“I don’t care,” Louis said, “Daniel was there for me when you abandoned me! He took care of me! He wouldn’t even take money for food. He helped me get into grad school. I would’ve drowned without him!”

Louis couldn’t remember ever seeing Lestat so angry, “He took care of you?”

Louis was shaking with his own rage, “Yes. God. f*ck you! How dare you? How dare you try to tell me who I can be friends with!”

“He destroyed my life!” Lestat yelled.

“You destroyed your life!” Louis yelled back, “I thought all this, the moving, taking a break from work, and actually being there for Claudia, I thought this was you taking some f*cking responsibility!”

Lestat’s mouth snapped shut. He ran his hands through his hair roughly, closing his eyes.

“Yes. Yes, well,” Lestat was trying to suppress the anger in his voice, “You told me I didn’t know how to love anyone, so I thought I ought to learn.”

A sharp pain shot through Louis.

“I can bear the weight of my own mistakes Louis. Now that you’ve come back to me I can bear it,” Lestat opened his eyes and looked at him, “But that person is a living reminder of the most brutal period of my life. A period that has only just ended.”

Louis’s anger faded slightly, though his frustration mounted, “I know what he did was f*cked up. He knows it. But what I did, running away. And what you did. That’s what caused this. He’s more than made up for it. And neither of us did anything wrong by sleeping together. And we both agreed it would never happen again.”

Lestat shook his head, “He still wants you. I have no doubt he’s just waiting—“

“I asked him to stay over,” Louis said.

“Goddammit—“ Lestat turned away abruptly.

“I was really lonely, and I needed to be close to someone who cared about me, and he was there.”

“Stop,” Lestat ground out.

“I was f*cked up after talking to Nicki—“

“What do you mean?” Lestat charged forward, “Why on earth would you have spoken to Nicki?”

Louis took a deep breath. He was getting hot. His skin felt itchy, “He reached out through Armand and asked to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Lestat was incredulous.

“Yes. And he said all this stuff about how you kept him on the hook, wouldn’t let him go even though you didn’t really want him anymore, because you hate losing people. And I thought that’s what was going on between us. I thought I was just another Nicki.”

Lestat was aghast, “That f*cking snake.”

“I think his apology was sincere—“

“Sincere? Are you that naive?” Lestat threw up his hands, “He was trying to ruin my already ruined life! And succeeded!”

It hadn’t occurred to Louis that Nicki could be as manipulative as that. He shook his head, “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Either way, I was in a bad place, that's the point.”

Lestat looked ill. He started pacing again. His eyes were glassy, he wasn’t looking at Louis, “You’re going to continue to be friends with him. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes!” Louis said.

Lestat shook his head hard, “Louis I cannot—“

“Have you f*cked Armand?”

“Of course I’ve f*cked Armand!” Lestat exploded, “That’s beside the point!”

“It’s the whole point! I would never ask you to stop being friends with him!” Louis yelled back.

“Armand and I happened before I even met you! Armand’s actions didn’t set off a series of events that I nearly didn’t recover from! Nicki came between us, and I cut him off!”

“That is not the same at all! You were with him for eighteen years! I spent one night with Daniel!”

“I hate him!” Lestat spat, “I hate that he ever touched you! I don’t want him to even look at you again!”

“You’re an insane person,” Louis said, throwing up his hands.

“Louis—“

“I’m not going to stop being friends with him,” Louis crossed his arms, “So now what?”

Lestat grit his teeth as he stared at Louis, vibrating with anger.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Armand also kissed me. Also only once. I think it was a joke.”

Lestat’s eyes somehow grew wider. He started to pace again, rapidly, tearing his hands through his hair.

“Has there been anyone else?” Lestat asked, voice low.

It was incredible that Louis could feel this level of irritation, “Tell you what, Lestat. I’ll make a list of everyone I’ve f*cked, you make a list of everyone you’ve f*cked, then we’ll switch.”

“Louis—“

“What are you gonna do?” Louis walked towards Lestat, anger making his voice rough, “What are you going to do if I told you I’d been laid up with half of Manhattan?”

Lestat’s face twisted, “Louis—“

“No really,” Louis moved closer, and Lestat halted, watching him approach with narrowed eyes, “You gon send me away again? Get a driver to cart me off? Have Roget send my stuff after me?”

Lestat was shaking, his face a mixture of shame and fury. Louis went on, drawing closer, “You gon delete my number? Block me? You gon get over me? Find someone else? You think that’ll work out for you?”

He was in Lestat’s face now, hurling his words at him, “It doesn’t f*cking matter who I did or didn’t sleep with. You know it and I know it. I’m it for you.”

A moment of stillness.

Lestat lunged for him, yanking Louis forward by the shoulders, taking his mouth in a bruising kiss. f*cking hell. It was always so good. Infuriating that it was always so good. Louis returned his roughness, was rougher. Lestat made him so goddamn angry. Crushing Lestat’s jaw between his hands, he angled his mouth down, forcing his tongue between his lips. Lestat shoved him backward until he slammed into the rough wood of the barn door, then snatched Louis’s hands off his face. They stared at each other, furious. Lestat’s breath was hot on Louis’s face as he threaded their fingers, raising their arms over their heads, encircling Louis’s wrists in one hand. The other hand went to grab Louis’s chin, tilting his head up.

“Mine,” Lestat said, voice rough.

Louis yanked his head out of Lestat’s grasp, his wrists out of his grip, “f*ck you!” He shoved him back hard. Lestat’s mouth hung open, his eyes glazed over.

Louis hauled him forward again by the collar of his shirt, kissing him harshly, punishingly. Lestat had them moving back again, pressing up against Louis urgently, colliding with the door once more. Lestat’s anger seemed to have left him, replaced by desperation. His hands went to Louis’s ass, grinding them together.

“f*ck,” Lestat moaned, hands shaking, scrambling for Louis’s belt buckle.

Louis’s found his anger was as present as ever. He always f*cking did this. Make Louis forget why they were even arguing. One kiss went straight to his head and nothing ever got talked about. He shoved Lestat back again.

“We are not f*cking right now,” Louis spat, “Jesus Christ.”

Lestat blinked at him, swallowed. His expression turned pleading. He stumbled forward, grasping at Louis’s waist, pressing them together again, kissing along Louis’s jaw, voice hoarse, “Please. I need it. I need you.”

Louis inhaled hard through his nose, summoning his willpower.

“No,” Louis shook off his grasp, “We don’t have sh*t figured out. You’re trying to make me act stupid.”

“Louis—“

Louis turned and yanked open the barn door, “Try to find your friend. I'm worried about him and you should be too.”

Louis walked rapidly across the field, feeling Lestat’s eyes on his back.

Chapter 41: nestling in my arms now

Chapter Text

Louis came into the house through the backdoor in the kitchen. He’d walked around for a while, calming himself down, trying to order his thoughts. He didn’t know where Lestat had gone. Claudia had taken over the couch, sprawled out, a bowl of chips refilled to the brim.

“You need to eat some real food,” Louis said, “Get an orange or something.”

Claudia paused the tv, “My friend Chloe invited me over to her house tomorrow to go swimming.”

“That sounds fun,” Louis said, moving her feet and sitting beside her.

“Yeah,” she said, looking over at him, “But I don’t know if I should go 'cause you’ll only be here a week.”

Louis’s heart ached sweetly. She wanted to spend time with him.

“I think I’m probably going to be staying longer,” he said, “A week doesn’t feel like enough time to spend with my best friend.”

She tried to suppress her smile, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t imagine leaving in a week anymore. He couldn’t imagine working all this out with Lestat in a week. It wasn’t like he had concrete plans for the rest of the summer anyway.

“Go spend time with your friend,” Louis said. It made him so happy that she had friends.

“Cool,” she stood up, “I gotta ask Dad to drive me. Where is he?”

“Not sure,” Louis said, “In the barn last time I saw him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him skeptically.

“You guys are already back together aren’t you?” Claudia asked.

Why was Louis always so caught off guard by her observation skills, “What makes you say that?”

“He bought books,” Claudia said, “To read. ”

Louis managed to keep from laughing, “Like I said, don’t worry about that.”

Claudia sighed dramatically as she headed out the back door, “You people are exhausting.”

Louis couldn’t suppress his laughter that time.

Later that afternoon Louis watched Claudia ride Shark around the paddock, Lestat hovering near them the whole time, giving her instructions. Like Lestat, she seemed utterly natural and confident up there. Too confident in Louis’s opinion.

“Ain’t that a bit fast?” Louis called as they started to trot.

“No,” she called back.

Lestat walked over to Louis, “It’s fine. She’s quite good, and he’s a very old, very tired horse.”

“He don't seem that tired,” Louis muttered, watching her pick up speed. When he looked back at Lestat, he was smiling at him. It was like he’d forgotten they were pissed at each other.

“What?” Louis asked.

Lestat shook his head, “Nothing.”

Louis rested his head on his arms, leaning against the fence, “Anything on Armand?”

Lestat propped a foot up on the lowest fence rail, leaning toward Louis, “No. But I reached out to basically everyone we know. Someone is bound to know something. It’s not like he’s an inconspicuous person.”

Louis released a breath, “Good. Thank you for doing that.”

Lestat shrugged, “He means a great deal to me. I wasn’t doing anyone any favors.”

He meant he wasn’t doing Daniel any favors. Louis looked away, eyes back on Claudia, who’d slowed down, thank god.

“Why haven’t you two been talking? You and Armand,” Louis asked.

Lestat took his foot off the rail and turned around, leaning against the fence to watch Claudia again, “I haven’t been particularly interested in hearing what he has to say.”

“Why?” Louis asked.

It took Lestat a moment to respond, “I felt like he was kicking me when I was down.”

Louis leaned forward more to see Lestat's face, “What do you mean?”

“I knew he felt I’d earned my misery,” Lestat said, “He’d said as much. Said I was getting a taste of my own medicine.”

“Oh,” Louis said.

“Yes,” Lestat rested his elbows on the fence behind him, “Later he insisted he was a shoulder to cry on, but I could feel his judgment. My self-reproach was quite enough to deal with.”

Louis's brows drew together, “He was reaching out to you?”

“Yes,” Lestat said.

“I wish you would’ve talked to him,” Louis said, “I hate that you didn’t have anybody.”

Lestat looked over at him, surprised.

“That’s what made me want to come in the first place,” Louis said, “I read that article on you, saying you’d fired everyone. And Armand told me you weren’t speaking. I just hated that you were all by yourself.”

Lestat looked away from him, throat working.

Louis moved closer so his arm brushed Lestat’s, “I was so lonely for you. And I couldn’t imagine you were as lonely for me until I read that article and talked to Armand. And he told me you’d done all you did because we broke up. I could hardly believe it.”

Lestat was biting down hard, his jaw flexing.

“And I just knew I had to go to you. Even if you didn’t want me anymore. I just had to go to you.”

Lestat’s eyes were glassy with tears, he inhaled, trying to suppress them.

“He was looking out for you,” Louis said, “When he helped me with all the press stuff, he said he was doing it for you.”

“That was half the trouble,” Lestat said, his voice rough, “He got to talk to you, and be in your life, and I didn’t. He said he’d help clean up my mess, but if you never spoke to me again he’d understand perfectly.”

Louis was quiet for a moment, “He’s a very blunt person.”

Lestat half laughed, “He is that.”

Louis laid a hand on Lestat’s arm, “I can understand feeling kicked when you were down.”

Lestat exhaled, “It was all the more galling because he was right. Impulsivity and brashness had cost me my family. There were times it felt…times were it felt truly impossible to bear.”

A tear fell down Lestat’s face, which he wiped away quickly. Claudia laughed, and they looked up at her.

“Keep proper posture,” Lestat called out to her.

“I know, I know,” she called back.

Lestat glanced over at Louis, “She was so furious with me. The things she said…how hard it was to find her when she hid, I’d go whole days frantic with worry looking. I’d lost both of you, and there was no one to blame but myself.”

Louis squeezed his arm, “It wasn’t all you. I know I f*cked up.”

Lestat shook his head, “Louis—”

“No,” Louis said, “No I was just as impulsive running to Daniel’s house. I just freaked out, I can’t even describe it. I felt like I was suffocating.”

Lestat’s breath caught, “You did?”

“Yeah. I just,” Louis sighed, “There were so many eyes on me. Online, in public. So much negative attention. We couldn’t even go outside. And there were people always around. Security and publicity and assistants and I just freaked out. And Daniel was the only normal person I knew who wasn’t family, and they were no help. So when he said I could come visit him I just—”

“He told you to come,” Lestat stood up straight and turned to face Louis, eyes flashing.

“Don’t,” Louis shook his head, “Don’t get all like that. I was literally telling him I wished I had a normal place to go. And when I got there he reamed me out for like twenty minutes for not telling you, not taking the jet, not bringing my security. I was the one who chose to just bolt like I did.”

“But why,” Lestat walked toward him, “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t want me to go,” Louis said.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have, but we could’ve talked,” Lestat said.

Louis shook his head, “I really didn’t think we could. You were the boss.”

Lestat inhaled sharply.

Claudia laughed again. Lestat turned.

“Alright,” he called, walking toward her, “Time’s up.”

“No, no, like ten more minutes,” Claudia pleaded.

“I don’t know why I’m the only one who remembers that this horse is a senior citizen. He needs his rest,” Lestat said, reaching a hand up to slow Shark’s progress.

Claudia pouted as Lestat helped her from the saddle. She continued to pout as she lead Shark around the paddock to cool down.

Lestat walked back to Louis, “She doesn’t know she’s getting a young mare for her birthday. I dread the name she’ll give it.”

Louis grinned at him, “Really?”

Lestat nodded, “I’ve already selected her, look.”

Lestat pulled out his phone and showed Louis a picture of a gorgeous jet-black horse.

“She’ll only be five when she gets here. They’ll grow up together,” Lestat said happily.

Louis’s heart swelled. He brushed a lock of hair behind Lestat’s ear, “I love you.”

Lestat snapped his head up to Louis, eyes wide.

Louis smiled, “One day you won’t be so surprised to hear me say that.”

Lestat’s own smile was dazed, “I doubt that.”

It was amazing. Louis had been so mad at him two hours ago.

“Oh,” Louis said, “I think I should stay longer. A week isn’t enough time. Is that okay?”

Lestat’s smile grew wider, “I don’t want you to ever leave.”

“I think I can loosen the cinch thingy myself,” Claudia called, “Actually I can do the rest by myself.”

Lestat turned around, “Do you want to?”

She nodded.

“Alright,” Lestat said, walking towards her, “Show me.”

Louis watched them take care of the horse after the ride, Lestat once again supervising, offering instruction. Louis didn’t want himself to ever leave either.

Except he had a life in New York, one he’d built from the ground up, one he enjoyed, despite it all. The idea of up and leaving all that didn’t feel good.

He saved those thoughts for later. Dinner was a very haphazardly made pasta dish. They played Uno and watched a movie. Claudia was once again sent to bed at eleven, and once again there was an argument.

“It’s summertime!” she said.

“Don’t you want to go to your friend's house tomorrow?” Lestat asked.

“Yes,” she said testily.

“Wouldn’t you like to be awake for that?”

Eventually, she went upstairs.

“She reads for an hour after I send her up there anyway,” Lestat said, resting an arm across Louis’s shoulders, “She thinks I don’t notice.”

Louis laughed, resting his head on Lestat’s shoulder, “We should probably go talk some more.”

Lestat kissed Louis’s temple, “Must we?”

“Yes,” Louis stood up, slapping Lestat on the knee, “Let’s go.”

“Let’s speak in the garage,” Lestat said, “It's farther away in case you start screaming at me again.”

“Yes, because I’m the one with a yelling problem.”

Louis sat on a stool watching Lestat tinker with the engine of the old car, finding he didn’t actually want to talk anymore. The night was warm, and Lestat had stripped down to his tank top. Louis leaned forwards, hands gripping the stool's seat. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Daniel.

Thank you both. I really f*ckin appreciate it.

Louis put his phone back in his pocket. What a prescient reminder of why they needed to talk.

“Daniel says thank you,” he said, “I told him we’d reached out to Armand and you’d reached out to a bunch of y’alls friends. He really appreciates it.”

Lestat rose his head slowly, leaning back. He turned and tossed his wrench on his workbench, then wiped his hands on the rag hanging out of his back pocket.

“You’re right you know,” Lestat said, looking down at his hands, “There is no one for me but you.”

Louis’s breath caught.

Lestat looked up, “But I don’t feel that I am the only one for you. I feel like Molloy is waiting in the wings.”

“He isn’t,” Louis said, standing up and leaning against the car opposite Lestat, “I’m telling you it’s just like with you and Armand. There’s some history there but it’s all friendship now. He loves Armand so much.”

“I know that,” Lestat said, “I’ve heard about his love induced meltdowns for years. That’s what makes me so sure there’s more to it with you.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asked.

“He’s wanted nothing but to march Armand to a courthouse since the moment they met,” Lestat said, “And then you. You he kisses. You he houses. You he sleeps with. Why?”

Louis hadn’t thought of that. He paused for a moment, “I don’t know. He does care about me, I know that. But he was the one that said we worked better as friends.”

“And was this before or after you slept together?” Lestat asked, his voice becoming hard.

“After,” Louis said.

Lestat laughed bitterly.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Louis said imploringly.

“I want you to drop him entirely. I know,” Lestat held up his hand to ward off Louis’s protests, “I know it’s too much to ask for. You’ve made that clear.”

Louis pressed a hand to his forehead, looking down, “I just…I’ve made a life for myself and he’s part of it. A big part. I’ve never had a friend like this. And you….your life is so much bigger than mine. And it just. You just consumed me completely. My life became entirely about you, so quickly. And when you threw me out…”

Louis’s voice grew thick, the car engine blurred in front of his eyes, “It felt so much like when my mom cut me off. You’d become my source of everything. Happiness. Love. Housing. Money. And I just had nothing suddenly. Absolutely nothing. I can’t go back to that I can’t let you be the sun and I just orbit around you—”

Louis stopped speaking. He shut his eyes, but the tears escaped anyway, “I was so scared of you. I still am.”

“What?” Lestat’s voice was broken. When Louis opened his eyes, Lestat’s face was stricken.

Louis tried to explain, “When I came to work for you, you were so beautiful and magnetic and overwhelming, and I was so scared by what I felt for you. You were my boss and it was inappropriate. And then you kissed me and I was scared by what that meant. That you were just toying with me. I thought I should leave, but I was too scared to leave Claudia alone, was scared of what would happen to her. And then when we got engaged, everything became so much scarier. Now the whole world was scary. And I think I was scared when I ran off, scared that you wouldn’t let me go and I’d just have to stay there and go crazy about all the sh*t we were dealing with.”

Louis rubbed the heel of his hand across his chest, “And then you showed me I was right to be scared. That you would use what power you had against me if I pissed you off enough.”

Lestat was staring at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide.

“I know I f*cked up,” Louis said, his voice half a sob, “I know. And I know it’s a lot to ask you to be cool with Daniel. I know. But my life is still so small, and I don’t think I can give any of it up for you. Not again.”

Lestat was in front of him suddenly, staring down at him like he was a wounded creature he didn’t know how to approach, hands hovering over Louis’s shoulders like he was afraid to touch him.

Louis leaned his head against Lestat’s chest, shuddering with the tears that overwhelmed him. Lestat wrapped his arms around him then, holding him tightly, rocking him back and forth, resting his chin on top of Louis’s bent head. Louis cried harder in Lestat’s arms than he could remember crying since the days when they’d first broken up.

Lestat kept speaking softly to Louis, “Je suis profondément désolé. Je suis navré. Louis mon amour, mon coeur. C’est de ma faute. Je suis navré. Je suis désolé de t'avoir fait du mal.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Lestat’s waist, buried his head in his neck, listened to his voice, the rumble of it in his chest, the beating of his heart. Lestat rubbed circles on Louis’s back. After a long time, the tears began to slow.

Louis tilted his head up, “I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a discussion.”

Lestat placed a hand on Louis’s cheek, “Don’t apologize. Please.”

Louis caught his breath, slipping out of Lestat’s grasp and wiping at his eyes. He'd exhausted himself, “I gave myself a headache. We can talk more tomorrow when Claudia’s at her friend’s.”

“Alright,” Lestat said, grasping Louis’s face softly and leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

Louis gave him a watery smile, “I love you.”

Lestat looked at him, mystified, “Oh Louis. Je t’aime de toute mon âme.”

Louis hugged Lestat once more, briefly, before slipping out of his arms and heading to the cottage.

He hadn’t expected to get that upset. He’d know he was scared of Lestat hurting him again, of course, but he hadn’t known it would all come out like that. But to have Lestat be the one to comfort him, that eased the fear.

He really was exhausted. Arguing was exhausting. Crying was exhausting. He got ready for bed quickly and was half asleep when there was a knock at the cottage door.

He shuffled over it, half expecting it to be Claudia with some scheme to avoid bedtime. But it was Lestat, wearing a t-shirt and silky pajama bottoms Louis’s recognized.

“Oh,” Lestat looked at Louis squinting up at him sleepily, “I’m sorry.”

Louis yawned, “What’s wrong?”

“I—” Lestat looked at him for a long moment, “Can I sleep here? With you?”

Louis blinked.

“Just sleep,” Lestat said hurriedly, “You were so upset, and I need…I would really like to hold you. Please.”

“Oh,” Louis’s heart swelled, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lestat asked, eyes searching.

“Yeah,” Louis backed up to let Lestat in, “That sounds nice.”

It sounded amazing. Lestat walked quickly inside, shutting the door behind him, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Louis said. Lestat quickly kicked off his shoes. They looked at each other for a moment, awkwardness unaccountably rising between them.

Louis finally spoke, “You want to sleep against the wall or on the outside?”

“Oh,” Lestat glanced at the bed, “Whichever you prefer is fine.”

Louis looked at the bed as well, “Outside I guess.”

“Alright,” Lestat walked over to the bed and sat down, sliding back against the wall, propping himself up on one arm. He looked at Louis.

Louis didn’t know what he felt in that moment, looking down at Lestat waiting for him in bed. How many chances did one person get for impossible happiness?

Louis climbed into the bed, not sure whether to face away from Lestat or towards him. But Lestat raised a hand to his face, stroking his cheek, and Louis laid his head down on the pillow, facing him. Lestat wrapped an arm around Louis, drawing them together. He cradled Louis’s head against his shoulder, holding him snugly around the waist. He was so warm, and he smelled like Lestat, and Louis felt at home, and safe.

“I hated every single night I spent without you,” Lestat said softly.

“Me too,” Louis barely managed to mumble before he slipped into sleep.

Chapter 42: wrought my eagerness to a climax

Chapter Text

Louis woke up to Lestat putting on his shoes.

“Where you goin’?” Louis asked, sitting up and wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Lestat said, putting on his other shoe, “I was going to let you sleep more. Wake you up before I left.”

“Leave for where?” Louis yawned.

“I found Armand,” Lestat said, standing up straight, “He’s in Berlin.”

“Really?” Louis shifted and put his feet on the floor.

“Yes. One of our mutual friends got back to me. He’s at her place, and said she’d keep an eye on him until I could come collect him.”

Louis got up and shuffled toward him, stretching his arms over his head, “You’re going to Berlin?”

“I have no other choice. He still isn’t answering his phone, and he’s not doing well. I’m going to have to haul him back here.”

Louis nodded slowly, “Okay, yeah.”

“Can you take Claudia to her friend's house?” Lestat asked, “She knows the way.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Louis said.

“Thank you,” Lestat leaned forward and kissed Louis on the cheek, “One other thing. You can take my room in the main house so I can toss Armand in here. I’ll take the couch.”

Louis smiled, brows raised, “You gon sleep on the couch?”

Lestat smiled, “We haven’t said anything to Claudia. And I didn’t want to presume.”

“She knows,” Louis waved his hand, “We can tell her when you get back.”

Lestat’s smile widened, “Really?”

Louis nodded. Lestat grabbed his face and gave him a brief, hard kiss, “It shouldn’t be too long. I’ve chartered a helicopter to get this over with.”

Louis tucked Lestat’s hair behind his ears. He didn’t want him to go for even a brief time, “Well, hurry back.”

Lestat must have seen something in his face or heard it in his voice, because his gaze darkened, and he kissed Louis properly this time, and when he pulled away he groaned, “I hate Armand.”

Louis laughed, “Go, leave so you can come back quicker.”

Lestat headed up the main house and Louis got ready for the day, awake now. When he went up to the house Claudia was in the living room with Lestat, who was dressed to go.

“When he gets here, just leave him alone. Don’t pry,” he was telling her warningly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Claudia asked curiously.

“Exactly that. Don’t do that,” Lestat said. He turned to Louis.

“I’m off,” he said.

Louis walked Lestat to the truck.

“I’m gonna tell Daniel you’re going to get him,” Louis said, “He’s freaking out.”

Lestat nodded, face neutral. Louis hugged him, “You’re a good friend.”

Lestat hugged him back hard, “I am. I am a heroically good friend for leaving the joy of being in your arms for that demon.”

Louis laughed, pulling away, pushing his shoulder, “Hey that’s my friend too.”

Lestat grumbled, kissing Louis once more, “Until tonight.”

After Lestat left Louis went back into the house, calling Daniel as he walked up the hill.

“Mmmhhh,” Daniel answered the phone. Clearly, he'd been asleep.

“Sorry, I know it’s early there but I figured you want to know Lestat found Armand.”

Daniel’s voice was immediately alert, “What? Where?”

“He’s in Berlin. One of their friends is with him. He still won’t answer his phone so Lestat’s going to get him and bring him back to the farm.”

“He’s bringing him back to France?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah,” Louis said, “I think he wants to keep an eye on him.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment, “Louis, give me a second I need to check something.”

“Okay,” Louis said, confused. Daniel was back on the line shortly.

“Hey, quick question does Lestat know we slept together?”

Louis winced, “Yeahhh. It’s kind of a point of contention.”

“Great,” Daniel said, sounding exhausted, “Well, thanks for reaching out and doing all this man. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, really.”

“Of course,” Louis said.

“Talk soon,” Daniel said.

Louis and Claudia ate breakfast together. She was going to her friend's house pretty early, at ten, and would spend most of the day there. Her driving instructions were very clear, it was obvious she’d been there many times before. That made Louis happy.

Soon Louis pulled the car into the driveway of a small, charming house, less rural than the farm, closer to town, but still with generous land surrounding it.

“They’re already in the pool, ugh,” Claudia said. Louis could also hear voices raised in play. She tugged off her t-shirt to reveal her bathing suit underneath as she hopped out of the car and sprinted around the house. Louis hurried to keep up with her.

In the backyard, several adults were sitting around a patio table under an umbrella, sipping drinks Louis hoped were non-alcoholic. There was a group of kids in the pool already. Two teenage girls were stretched out faced down on beach towels poolside, sunning themselves.

“Claudia!” one girl around Claudia’s age rushed out of the pool, heavy black hair streaming poolwater down her back, “Come on!” she called in French.

“Who are all these people?” Claudia asked, also in French, scanning the gathering, nose faintly wrinkled.

“My cousins visiting from America,” the girl, Chloe presumably, responded, rolling her eyes, “We can ignore them.”

Claudia nodded like she intended to do just that. She turned to walk down the pool steps with her friend.

Louis had been promptly forgotten, “Bye Claudia,” he called after her sarcastically.

She barely glanced at him, “Bye Louis.”

He chuckled.

“ Bonjour !” one of the adults called to him, a woman around Lestat's age. Louis smiled and walked over. He wanted to meet the people in charge of supervising water safety.

“ Bonjour ,” he returned, speaking in French, “I’m just dropping Claudia off. Thank you for letting her spend the day.”

“Of course,” the woman responded, “She’s a delight. Chloe and she are the best of friends.”

“So I hear,” Louis smiled.

“Oh my god. Wait," an American-accented voice exclaimed, "You’re Louis? That Louis ?”

Louis turned his head. The two teenagers had sat up and were staring at him, sunglasses pushed up into damp hair, mouths agape.

Damn.

Louis smiled benignly, raising his hands in a gesture of confusion, “Not sure what you mean. Just dropping Claudia off.”

He turned to the table of adults, “ Enchanté. ”

They returned his pleasantries, and Louis took off as fast as possible. Even in the middle of nowhere that could happen. He felt uneasy until he was back at the farm. Walking around aimlessly, he began to feel better. Two nosy teenagers. No big deal.

He felt at loose ends. After wandering to the barn and playing with the kittens, and to the stable to pet Shark, he was out of ideas. What did Lestat do around here all day? Probably actually do farm chores. Louis was not going to do farm chores.

He wandered back to the house, flicking around on the tv for a bit, nothing catching his eye.

Actually, he needed to move his stuff from the cottage to the main house, that was something to do. He went down to the cottage and packed his suitcase. It would be nice to get the cottage ready for Armand actually, take that off Lestat’s plate. Change the sheets and freshen the place up.

He hauled his suitcase up the stairs, realizing he hadn’t been in Lestat’s room yet. Shoving the door open with his shoulder, he set his case on the floor.

Much like the rest of the house, it was somewhat messy. Those two had grown very used to having people pick up after them. But because it was Lestat, the mess was artful. Cologne bottles were scattered on the dresser. A half-folded pile of jeans sat on the window seat, an emerald green silk robe tossed over top of them. The closet door was half open, suits he never got the chance to wear anymore hanging neatly within. A laundry hamper was full of worn t-shirts. A crystal glass and water pitcher sat on his nightstand. Also on his nightstand was a small pile of paperbacks. Titles that were now seared into Louis’s mind and probably would be forever. Giovanni’s Room. To the Lighthouse. Their Eyes Were Watching God. Persuasion. Salvage the Bones.

Louis walked over to the bedside table. He picked the top book. Giovanni’s Room. It was falling apart at the binding. The cover had been taped back on where it’d ripped.

The rest were in less extreme states of disrepair, but the pages were still dog-eared, well-thumbed. The bindings were cracked, the covers bent.

Louis set the books down carefully, exactly as he’d found them. They were almost too precious to handle.

Louis kept himself busy for the rest of the day. He got the cottage ready for Armand. Then he drove into town and got more food cause they were gonna be four people staying there now. On his way to pick Claudia up in the late afternoon, he called Grace.

“Hey Grace!” he said cheerfully.

“You folded,” she said, “You’ve been there three days, and you already folded.”

“How you figure?” he said, laughter in his voice

“ Hey Grace! ” she mimicked, “I’m so happy Grace! I got my man back Grace!”

“I’ll have you know he’s the one who folded,” Louis said.

“I simply do not believe you,” she said.

“I didn’t call you to be bullied, I called to catch up,” Louis said.

She told him about her summer classes, and her new job, which she’d defied Mama to get.

“I love having my own money,” she said, “I don’t even wanna spend it. I just like to look at it sittin’ in the bank.”

Louis laughed, “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she said, “How’s it actually going?”

“Claudia is doing amazing,” Louis said, “I’m going to get her from a friend's house right now. She’s just like a regular kid around here.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah…and he’s. He’s been really great. It was rocky for a minute, but we talked and are working it out.”

“Wow,” Grace said, “What’s that look like?”

“What do you mean?” Louis asked, turning down the street to Chloe’s house.

“He lives in France and Claudia is settled there so he can’t leave. Are you moving to France?”

A frisson of nerves went over Louis, “I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far.”

“And is he gon stay like…what? Retired? Or is going back to doing music? And what about grad school?”

“What part of we haven’t gotten that far makes you think I have answers to these questions?” Louis said.

“Well excuse me for being interested in your life,” Grace said.

“Mmhm,” Louis said,” You’ll know when I know. I gotta go get Claudia. Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.”

He’d texted Claudia he was on his way, so she was sitting on the front porch with her friend, towel wrapped around her shoulders, hair drying crazy. He got out of the car but didn’t need to walk up the path. She hopped up and sprinted to him.

“You have a good time?” he asked her as she slid into the seat next to him.

“Yeah mostly,” she rolled her eyes, “Chloe’s cousins figured out who I was and were kind of annoying, but Chloe’s mom made them stop.”

Louis’s unease returned, “Has that happened around here before?”

“A couple times,” she said, shrugging. That reassured Louis somewhat. It had happened before and nothing bad had happened.

By the time they got back to the farm, the sun was sinking below the treeline. Lestat’s truck was back in its spot. Louis heard them as they walked up the path into the courtyard.

“I’m not particularly interested in staying here, as charmingly rustic as it is,” Armand’s voice floated down to them.

“What about today gave you the impression I’m interested in what you’re interested in?” Lestat asked.

They rounded the corner. Lestat looked the same as he did this morning, if a little more tired and pissed off, leaning in the doorway of the cottage. Armand stood in front of him, looking exhausted, his normally bright eyes dull, his curls frizzy, his clothes ill-fitting and nothing like what he usually wore, very casual, a sweatshirt and track pants. Louis hadn’t seen him in person in a while, and a surge of concern made him rush forward.

“Hey,” he said, “We were worried.” Louis wrapped his arms around Armand’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Armand was stiff at first, but Louis kept hugging him, patting his back, and eventually, he relaxed and hugged Louis back.

“I appreciate your concern. I’m fine,” Armand said.

Lestat scoffed. Claudia wandered over to them, looking up at Armand as Louis released him.

“What’s your deal?” she asked, “You crazy now or something?”

Armand laughed.

“In the house,” Lestat said to her sternly.

Claudia shrugged and turned to walk up the hill.

“How are you doing?” Louis asked softly, “Why wouldn’t you return anyone’s calls?”

Armand looked away, “I did not feel like any conversation I’d have would be productive. I wanted to pull myself together before I spoke to anyone.”

“Which was stupid, as I’ve said,” Lestat’s voice was flat. Armand looked over at him, his shoulders sagging. Lestat titled his head.

“Go to bed Armand,” he ordered, “I will extract the story of your little Berlin adventure from you over breakfast.”

Armand rubbed a hand over his eyes. Louis had never seen him look anything less than self-possessed, even when arguing with Daniel. But he seemed younger at that moment, lost.

Lestat sighed. He reached out a hand and squeezed Armand’s shoulder, “Rest, alright?”

Armand nodded slowly, shuffling forward. Lestat moved out of his way so he could walk inside. Armand paused as he passed Lestat, turning towards him suddenly, resting his head on Lestat’s shoulder, and taking a deep shuddering breath.

Lestat wrapped his arms around Armand’s shoulders, looking over at Louis. Louis gave him a half smile and gestured towards the house. Lestat nodded and Louis turned to head inside. He called Daniel to let him know Armand was at the farm, but he didn’t pick up, so Louis just sent him a text.

Louis and Claudia were halfway through prepping dinner when Lestat came back into the kitchen.

“How is he?” Louis asked, looking up from sliding a pan of potatoes into the oven.

“Awful,” Lestat said bluntly, “But he’ll be fine.”

Louis walked over to him, pulling him into a hug, “Did he tell you what happened?” he asked softly.

“No,” Lestat said, hugging Louis back tightly, “I didn’t ask. He needs a minute.”

“Is this how you announce you’re back together? Weirdly long hugs in the kitchen?” Claudia said.

They stepped away from each other, Lestat laughing. Louis couldn’t suppress his own grin, “No, we were actually going to tell you over dinner.”

“Well, I already knew. You guys shouldn’t be spies.”

With Armand safe and asleep in the cottage, the air of dinner was light. Louis and Lestat did explain that they were back together, even though they didn’t need to.

“Just to be clear,” Louis said to Claudia, “We don’t know what our family is going to look like, but we are a family. Right?”

Louis looked over at Lestat, who stared at him for a moment, lips parted, some nameless emotion in his eyes. When he spoke his voice was rough, “Yes. Yes, we’re a family.”

“Cool,” Claudia said, “You know what this family needs? Two kittens.”

Louis laughed, and Lestat smiled, clearing his throat and looking down.

“Two kittens and a dog,” Claudia said, stabbing a potato with her knife.

After the bedtime argument Louis was beginning to realize was a ritual of sorts for father and daughter, Louis showered and went to Lestat’s room to get ready for bed.

He was halfway through digging his pajamas out of his suitcase when he remembered something.

When Lestat came upstairs Louis was sitting cross-legged on the foot of the bed, reading a book. He heard Lestat open the door, and he heard him halt his steps.

Louis looked up. Lestat was staring at him with an intensity he’d only seen during arguments, visibly working to breathe.

Louis smiled at him and stood up, putting his book with the others on the bedside table. He turned back to Lestat, gesturing down his body, “You said it was alright if I wear your clothes.”

Louis was wrapped in Lestat’s green silk robe, which smelled deliciously like him, light and cool on Louis’s skin. It was slightly too big and covered him from head to toe.

Without looking away from Louis, Lestat shut the door behind him and locked it. He approached Louis slowly, like he was scared he’d bolt. Soon they were only inches away. Lestat’s breathing was labored. He reached forward, slipping one finger under the robe's tie, tugging Louis forward. Louis’s heart was racing. He felt Lestat’s gaze everywhere. Slowly, Lestat undid the robe's tie. It fell open. His jaw worked.

Louis had put on one of Lestat’s silk pajama sets, a sapphire blue. Lestat closed his eyes and exhaled. He swayed toward Louis, grasping his upper arms. He lowered his head to Louis's neck, kissing up it gently, though his grip on Louis’s arms was fierce. Louis slid his hands under Lestat’s shirt, but Lestat grabbed them mid-motion.

Lestat shook his head, his voice was barely there, “I am trying to go slow, mon amour. I want to savor this. But if you touch me…”

He trailed off, sliding his hands back up Louis's arms, slipping the robe off Louis’s shoulders so it pooled at his feet. Then he started to work the buttons of the pajama top until it hung open, and that too was slipped down Louis’s shoulders.

Lestat swallowed hard. Louis was lightheaded. This pace was torturous, deliciously tortuous. Lestat ducked his head to press his lips to Louis’s collarbone, down his chest, and farther, along his stomach, dropping to his knees.

Lestat looked up at Louis like he couldn’t believe he was there. Like he was some vision that would disappear if he blinked. It was overwhelming to be looked at like that. Louis could hardly breathe.

Lestat reached up to the waistband of his pajama pants, low on Louis’s hips, and tugged them down gently.

Louis had put on a pair of Lestat’s boxers, and when Lestat realized this he seemed to become momentarily immobilized. Then a moan came from deep within his chest, “Mon Dieu.”

Louis didn’t actually see Lestat get up, suddenly he was on the bed, thrown there, and Lestat was above him, taking his mouth in a long, desperate kiss, leaving them both breathless. Then Lestat was yanking his boxers down Louis’s hips, voice ragged, “J'ai envie de toi.”

Lestat yanked his own shirt off roughly, and he was over Louis again, and they were pressed together, chest to chest, Louis trying to get between them to the cold metal of Lestat’s belt buckle, which was pressing on his stomach.

“ J'ai vraiment envie de toi, " Lestat moaned into Louis’s neck.

“ Je suis à toi,” Louis said, breathless, “Je suis à toi.”

Lestat looked up at him, breath hitching. He looked utterly lost.

It was coming home. It was returning to Eden when you believed yourself to be forever barred. Desperate as ever, more so, Lestat clinging to Louis like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. Moving above him with a furious urgency, like if he stopped, he’d die. But new was the reverence, the worship in Lestat’s hands, in his gaze, the moaned endearments, mon ange, mon bébé, mon bonheur. Louis was as lost as Lestat, trying to feel him everywhere, with his everything, down to his very soul, and he could say nothing but je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.

Chapter 43: I am little better than the devil

Chapter Text

Louis woke up when Lestat started to climb out of bed, taking his warmth with him.

“Don’t,” Louis whined, turning over and tugging on his arm. Lestat immediately laid back down, and Louis turned over to face him, burying his head in his chest.

“Mmm,” Louis sighed happily, his eyes drifting closed again.

There was a slamming sound from downstairs. Louis’s eyes flew open, and he lifted his head.

“What was that?” He asked Lestat.

“That would be Armand tearing apart our kitchen,” Lestat said, pulling Louis back down to him, “But you’re right, this is far more important.”

Louis let himself relax into Lestat’s arms. The sun had only just risen. He ran his foot up and down Lestat’s calf.

Another slam.

“Okay,” Louis said, sitting up, “We have to go see what his deal is.”

Lestat sat up too, glaring at the closed door, “I should’ve left him in Germany to rot.”

Louis put on Lestat’s green robe, which mentally he’d decided was his robe, and followed Lestat downstairs. Lestat had gotten dressed in a t-shirt and jeans to do his morning chores.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Lestat said as they walked into the kitchen, “But I have a child. Children need rest, or so I’m told.”

“They also need food,” Armand said, not turning around from where he stood perusing the spice cabinet, “I’m making everyone breakfast.”

“I thought you were doing construction with all the noise,” Lestat said. Louis shuffled sleepily to the kitchen table and sat down, resting his crossed arms on the table and his head on his arms.

“I was looking for a muffin tin,” Armand said, turning to face Lestat. Armand looked slightly better this morning, a little less tired.

“We don’t have a muffin tin,” Lestat replied.

“I know that now. And you call yourself a good father,” Armand tutted.

“I don’t actually,” Lestat said, coming to stand behind Louis, resting his hands on his shoulders.

“Well that’s depressing,” Armand said, going to the fridge.

Louis agreed. He reached up and squeezed one of Lestat’s hands.

“Speaking of depressing,” Lestat said, “What happened to you that made you flee the country like a criminal?”

Armand took out a carton of eggs, “I’m going to make a frittata. Boring, but you have all the necessary ingredients.”

“Armand. Don’t make me beat it out of you,” Lestat said. Louis glanced up at him disapprovingly.