Chapter Text
Louis was sitting on the sofa of his new LA apartment, tapping his foot nervously. No, decisively not nervously - expectantly… a little impatiently maybe.
Lestat was coming to visit.
Well, technically it was Louis who was visiting Lestat, as he still had his flat in Dubai where he still lived. He wasn’t moving here or anything. It was only that he hated hotels and would need to visit LA frequently. Daniel was here and he still felt a little responsible for his current condition and future safety. Of course, Daniel was in LA to interview Lestat for his new book, a biography, The Vampire Lestat. And Lestat was in the city because he was famous now, apparently, and busy with whatever rockstars did these days.
But not too busy to drop by, for a moment.
Since their last meeting, they had no opportunity to really see each other. Lestat had to leave for his tour and Louis didn’t attempt to stop him, wasn’t ready to face the reason why he would even want to. Also, he needed time to process the intensity of their meeting. It didn’t hurt any less to let him go than any other time in the past. Louis expected at least that to be different, he used to find solace in convincing himself that he overexaggerated the presence of Lestat in his mind. But…he truly was intoxicating . One embrace, one breath full of his scent and he relapsed, felt himself being pulled back into the gravitational field of everything Lestat . It was the whole reason why he had to leave before he got high on his love again.
Love makes you stupid!
Louis knew that was true. After he left, he kept his distance. It wasn’t hard with Lestat on tour; different week, different city, different lovers no doubt . It wasn’t hard logistically. But Lestat was only gone physically. He once again began haunting Louis, this time not just in his deluded mind but through a different medium as well. Texts. Never calls. It felt like they were talking daily and somehow not saying anything at all. Lestat usually sent short messages without need for reply, sometimes photos from his tour, rarely videos (if he was lucky). Louis replied to half of them, censoring his words often, keeping Lestat at arm’s length but keeping him nonetheless - always toeing the line. And yet, Louis’ soul felt more nourished from these short exchanges he shared over a distance with Lestat, than from 77 years of Armand’s whispered soliloquies.
What did that say about him? Why does he starve without a man he had tried to kill? Why is he starving still? He had allowed himself crumbs of Lestat to satiate the hunger, not to turn it into famine. It felt like Lestat was a carrot, cruelly being dangled in front of his emaciated heart, except it was Louis holding the stick, depriving himself of the taste.
And after those videos? God, he wanted to taste .
Can he be judged for not being able to stand it any longer? When Lestat returned from tour, he knew he had to see him. Perhaps, Daniel was an excuse. But he bought the flat nevertheless and invited Lestat ‘for a quick talk’ and Lestat was visiting.
There was a knock at the door.
Louis opened the door faster than he intended but he didn’t possess enough self-control to pretend he could wait. After all the photos he sent and the many he googled, he couldn’t wait to see the man in person.
Lestat was a vision, which came to no surprise, but even more so than usual when dressed in a tight black shimmering top and low-rise dark jeans, both of which left enough space to reveal his entire mid-section. A bridge Louis would love to cross with his tongue.
“Louis,” Lestat’s voice low, silky, ”how have you been?”
Louis’ eyes finally found Lestat’s face. Perhaps, he wasn’t only mesmerised by his body, but also avoiding his eyes. Longing and anxiety were twisting his gut in equal measure. Nevertheless, the tightness released slightly at the sight. The first thing he saw was the ocean blue, then eyeliner accentuating his eyes. Still, Louis couldn’t help but laugh a little at the glitter all over his cheeks.
“Fresh from a concert?” Louis asked, just to avoid answering the question.
He stepped aside to let his… guest in.
“You like?” he almost purred. After the resulting silence, Lestat pursed his lips and came in. “I was shooting a music video for a new single when you called.”
“You should’ve told me you were too busy to meet.” Louis replied, closing the door and following him to the living room.
Lestat paused and turned around. There was a softness in his gaze, the one that made Louis melt before , made him forget why he was angry or what question he had asked that Lestat refused to answer. There was a reason why Louis could doubt being enough but never being loved, and it was hidden in those eyes.
“I could never be too busy to meet you, Louis” he said it like a fact, like it wouldn’t ruin Louis and keep him awake all day.
“I promise it won’t take long”
Lestat smiled widely but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You needn’t worry, the shooting part is done. I should show you the whole thing when it’s finished, though. The song is about you after all”
“About me?” Louis knew he was staring but he couldn’t stop.
He always did have beautiful eyes, enthralling even.
“Why, of course, mon cher . They are all about you after all.”
Louis felt a pang in his chest that broke through the spell he was under.
“Don’t call me that,” He said, reflexively.
He kept falling into the same trap. A look, a smile, a hint of what could be and he was falling. Falling from heights only Lestat could take him to. He couldn’t keep making the same mistake. This time had to be different.
Lestat’s lips twitched. Something shifted behind his gaze and he shook his head after a moment.
“Right.” He clapped his hands and fell gracefully onto the sofa. “ Ma muse then! Why did you invite me, hm? Not that I’m complaining, I’m always grateful for chance to keep you company”
Louis ignored the last part, ignoring even harder the way his heart reacted to hearing it. Instead he turned around.
“Wait here.”
He left for a moment to retrieve the carefully wrapped bundle he was looking for. When he returned, Lestat was still laying spread-out ( seductively ) on the sofa, the curve of his hips on full display. Only now, in bright light, did he notice some glitter on his stomach, skillfully applied in the shape of a V, pointing down towards…
Love makes you stupid!
Louis shook his head.
“I have something for you”
“For me?” Lestat sat up, visibly excited. “A gift?”
Louis grimaced. “More like…an inheritance.” Lestat’s smile disappeared and his impossibly blue eyes focused on the small bundle he was holding. Louis placed it carefully on the glass coffee table in front of Lestat. It was wrapped in protective cloth but had the unmistakable shape of a book.The silence stretched as Louis tried to find the words. “It’s her first diary. I have all of them, but this one I used to re-read the most. I think you deserve to read it too.”
The shift in mood was sudden, but Louis was prepared. Lestat had always been like a hurricane or a storm at sea.
“Deserve?” He spat out, his eyes narrowed but focused on the diary, as if it could disappear in the time it took him to blink.
“ Deserve might be a bad word. Should .”
“No, I should not !” he exploded. “I don’t understand why you are going against her wishes. If she knew I even had it, if she saw me touch it, she would claw my eyes out — ”
“But she can’t! Because she’s dead!” Lestat fell silent, eyes on the bundle again, his body rigid but shaking. “These,” Louis pointed at the diary. “are the last words she will ever speak. All she wanted from us was to listen to her, to understand her. We can’t change the past, Lestat, but after — after everything, I decided to be what I couldn’t when she was alive. The least she deserves is to be heard and remembered, exactly as she was.”
Louis was shaking too. Looking at the other man, he saw his own emotions reflected; regret and grief flowing between them, like blood coursing in the same body. How could he let Lestat go when he was the only one who could really understand ? It felt hopeless. He felt hopeless. He lost himself with Lestat and lost his mind without him. Hence, this attempt. He had to try, pry himself and Lestat open, unveil all secrets, so maybe they could start over. They couldn’t be what they were, and Louis didn’t know what else they could be, but they had to exist. Louis could no longer stand pretending that he could live in a world without Lestat. He was a companion enough for himself, yes, except… he longed for more than enough.
But where does that leave them? Reading their dead daughter’s diaries, reopening old wounds, hoping that this time they heal properly?
“I can’t force you to read it, but you should. You have just as much right to them as I had,” he paused when Lestat let out a bitter laugh. “It wasn’t just bad times, you know?” At that, Lestat looked up at him, briefly, then away. His eyes were red and held so much intensity but the rest of his face was carefully blank. “She wrote good things too. Things got so bad in the end, I forgot there was a time she was happy with us.”
When we were happy , his mind added but he refrained from saying it out loud. The happiest I’ve ever been.
Lestat continued looking at the diary with such intensity that Louis almost believed he could hear all of its contents inside his head, Claudia whispering it from the pages. Silence stretched between them, becoming heavy with all that remained unspoken but eventually Lestat held out his hand. He gingerly took the bundle with one, held it, while the other started lightly caressing the cover over the material.
“I used to resent not being able to read her thoughts.” Lestat whispered, a barely audible crack in the quality of his voice, “I was jealous of her, I can now admit that. You two could speak a language I could never learn, shared a connection I could never join. I thought she was keeping you from me, that she was the reason for our misery, a thorn constantly in my side… And, after all this time, I can finally read her thoughts while she is no more. But I’m not any happier for it. My side still aches with her gone. Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, a red drop fell from his eye, staining the material. “On the other hand, maybe she would be happy with me reading it? Considering how much pain it will cause me? Mon petit sadique, ” The last part he said with so much affection, Louis’ heart opened, just a crack, before he could do anything to stop it.
Louis thought of Claudia, her rage, her hurt, her love, her cruelty…How terribly similar she was to Lestat and how much she craved greatness, just like Lestat. His vision blurred and he grabbed a chair, just to stop from reaching out.
“Claudia would be happy to know that she is remembered. And if the memory causes you some stress, that’d be a bonus.”
Lestat laughed at that, tightening his hold on the diary. He caressed it once more, swallowed and released a breath with some finality. He stood up, his eyes looking everywhere but at Louis.
“Is that all?”
Louis was surprised to hear that question, even if he shouldn’t be. Was that all? He supposed it was. The diary was the only reason he invited Lestat. The only reason they had to meet. It should be all. But Louis couldn’t say the words. Was that all ? Was that all for them? Lestat turned to look at him again, then kept looking, clutching the diary. His eyes were calling to Louis, whether it was intentional or not. Was that all for Louis? Was it all that he could have now; a couple words, silences where he seeks Lestat’s gaze, hoping he would look at him again, almost regretting it when he does? Or was that all when they barely talked at all, when Louis pretended a few scattered messages were enough to sustain him?
Love makes you stupid! And needy, weak, fragile. Louis just got his power back, finally able to stand on his own. But who could withstand a hurricane and not be swept away? Was that all he could hope for - protecting himself against the storm, wishing it would take him anyway. Knowing how much it hurts to fall.
There was a sad note to Lestat’s gaze, a hint of hope for an unspoken wish to be fulfilled. Louis didn’t know exactly what it was but he could guess a couple of things - all that he longed for, none which he was ready to give. Louis remained balancing on the tight-rope of his own making. A thin line between Lestat being gone and Lestat in his arms. A compromise at arm’s length. Can’t tell him to go. Can’t ask him to stay. Can’t look away.
Was that all? Yes, he had nothing else to offer. No, even if that was all, it would never be enough.
Louis said nothing.
Nevertheless, Lestat nodded sharply as if understanding things even Louis didn’t know, for he couldn’t understand it himself. He was still not looking at Louis, which seemed equally as purposeful as looking right at him would be. It always seemed easier for Lestat to look away, even when Louis was unable. Louis shouldn’t feel bitter about it but he couldn't help himself. He rarely could help himself with Lestat.
“I won’t keep you any longer. I have a party to get back to, anyway.” Lestat shrugged in a too casual manner.
Another familiar feeling joined the already too-confusing mix of emotions - jealousy.
“I thought you were shooting a music video,” Louis said coldly, already moving towards the door.
A party , Louis was seething. He was giving his ex-husband the diary of their long dead daughter and he was going to a party? Dressed like that? Barely dressed like that? Well, he was surely allowed to. For once, this time, they weren’t together when he was hunting his newest conquest. Louis had nothing to be angry about. Nothing to grit his teeth over. Louis had nothing.
“I was! And now I have to promote it. I work, sleep or network. What can I say? I am what they call a hot commodity .”
“I’m sure you are,”
He opened the door with more force than he should have. He already knew he would be seething all night. Anger was much easier than anything else he was feeling.
Lestat hesitated. He still wasn’t looking at Louis but he wasn’t leaving. Louis was still looking at Lestat… but he was focused on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed.
“Since you are in the city, if you are able and willing, perhaps, we could see each other again? Before you go back.”
“I thought you are busy promoting,” Louis couldn’t keep the snark from his voice.
Finally, Lestat looked at him and Louis forgot why he was angry. Lestat was serious, none of his usual flair. His eyes were sad but, finally, focused only on him.
“I meant what I said, Louis,” his voice was low but strong, “I could never be too busy to see you.” Lestat waited for a moment, his eyes roaming Louis’ face, as if he wasn’t sure when the next opportunity would arrive. The man paused at his lips, something restrained in his gaze, before he smiled. “Goodbye, mon— Louis.”
With that, he left.
And Louis didn’t know how to deal with Lestat who left first.