Archive of Our Own

The first time Daniel hears the name Lestat de Lioncourt, it’s mockingly peppered into a rant Louis has built himself into as Daniel prepares their dinner that night, some kind of stir fry he found online.

Louis is funnier than most people give him credit for, buried under his sleek professional persona, and it’s a secret part of him that Daniel cherishes. So he’s happy to laugh along as Louis complains about this new colleague of his. He’s waving his hands around and occasionally putting on a heavy French accent to do an impression of the man, then sort of droops suddenly, leaning back heavily on the counter next to Daniel.

“Obnoxious doesn’t even begin to cover it. He asked me if I knew how to do an e-signature, the condescending fuck.” Louis sighs tiredly. “I hate Europeans.”

Daniel laughs gently, turning the burner off to reach out and rub Louis’s arm. “I know, baby. They’re the fucking worst. Maybe he won’t last?”

Louis leans into his touch and grumbles, “Tom loves him so he’ll probably even be my boss in a few years.”

“Nah.” Daniel dismisses, kissing his cheek. “No one’s better than you. Get us some plates?”

Louis’s work as a lawyer at a big consulting firm brings in good money — great money, if Daniel is being honest — but their recent merger with a French firm to double their client base has meant that Louis is now in almost-constant contact with his French counterparts. This development — bringing in a French lawyer who also practices in New York to oversee big clients — is the most recent, and the most stressful for Louis so far. Daniel gets similarly frazzled about his own work, but he’s lucky to be able to do it mostly on his time. It helps that his editor is also one of his best friends.

Louis is still tense in bed later that night, but Daniel tries to be understanding of the pressure he’s under. Work. His family. Daniel reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it, waiting for Louis to slowly relax before he lets himself fall asleep, thinking all the while about the privilege it is to fall asleep next to this beautiful complex man of his.

They met in college, Louis studying philosophy and Daniel slugging through a journalism degree he felt he’d already outgrown in his sophomore year. They had some mutual friends in common, and that was what it was for a long time between them: just friends.

Daniel remembers feeling completely overwhelmed the first time he met Louis, feeling like he’d been knocked on his ass. Beautiful, smart, with eyes that seemed to look through him — it was the closest Daniel had ever come to believing in love at first sight. But it wasn’t that. It had taken longer to fall in love with Louis, and longer still for Louis to fall in love with him in return. They officially started dating just as Louis was finishing law school, and now, four years into their relationship, Daniel felt like he’d finally found his place at Louis’s side.

It was sensitive, delicate work being Louis’s boyfriend — knowing when to push, when to back off, when to dance around things. It required all of his attention, but it was work he was more than happy to take. Louis snuffles a little uneasily in his sleep, and Daniel strokes the back of his hand soothingly. When the reward was this, Daniel would have done anything.

The complaints carry on along the same vein for a month, and becomes a mainstay topic for their dinnertime conversation.

Lioncourt is condescending, obnoxious, rude, arrogant, petty, he spends too much time talking about himself, and so on and so forth. Daniel is sympathetic and more than happy to be what Louis needs when he’s upset. He knows the type of person this guy is and also knows how Louis is — and he can easily imagine their interactions.

But about a month after their first meeting, Louis comes home pleased and a little thoughtful, quietly picking at his food as they watch an old Taiwanese film.

“What’s this?” Daniel says.  “Good day at work?”

“Yeah.” Louis says slowly. “Kind of. You know that thing Tom was on my ass for? The GreenPark stuff?”

“Yeah.” In truth, Louis handled so many clients and firms that it was hard to keep track of them, but his boss Tom was always on his ass about something.

“Lestat helped me out with it.” Louis shrugs, looking at him. “Kind of stuck his neck out for me to help me calm the client down.”

Daniel raises a brow, and drawls, “Well, miracles of miracles.”

Louis laughs a little. “I know.”

“A peace offering, then?”

Louis’s brow scrunches adorably. “I don’t think so. I didn’t even know he’d helped until Sarah told me.” He looks at Daniel. “Do you think I should say thank you?”

Daniel shrugs, unable to comprehend the weird social norms of the corporate world. “Just bring him a coffee or something. French people love coffee, don’t they?”

Louis brightens. “Yeah. Say thank you without saying it. I’ll get something from that place near us, the one that looks like a jazz club had a baby with a Starbucks.”

Daniel shakes his head mockingly. “Lioncourt gets fancy overpriced coffee and I get, what?”

“You don’t like this gourmet dinner I prepared for us, baby?” Louis says, frowning, gesturing at their reheated day-old Chinese takeout. Daniel just snorts and focuses on the film again.

It’s nice to know someone is on Louis’s side at work. Maybe it means he’ll stop hearing about the guy in their apartment so much.

He doesn’t stop hearing about him so much. 

It, in fact, gets even worse. Except instead of Lioncourt, it’s Lestat that is coming out of Louis’s mouth every night after work, slipping in between anecdotes from work and inside jokes relayed clumsily to Daniel. Louis’s hatred for the guy slips into grudging respect and fast becomes a full-blown friendship.

Quite frankly, Daniel is kind of tired of hearing about the guy, especially when he’s dealing with a squirrelly source who keeps backing out of their meetings. But he’s also kind of glad for this new friendship of Louis’s. Louis is friendly, but he doesn’t have a lot of his own friends aside from the friends he made in college — not when work takes up so much of his time. Most of his friends are really Daniel’s and Daniel knows how annoying they can be to Louis, so he doesn’t begrudge him that Louis clearly delights in having a friend that’s solely his.

On a rare Saturday they’re both free, Daniel wakes Louis up with a blowjob, jerking himself off as he kneels between Louis’s legs. Louis is always a little lazy after coming, but Daniel shakes his Louis’s foot, still weirdly energetic after his own orgasm. “Let’s go out, come on. We can go to the farmer’s market.”

“Everyone will be out today.” Louis grumbles into the pillow, already falling asleep again.

“Because the weather is great.” Daniel cajoles, and then sweetening the pot, “I’ll cook this whole week.”

That gets Louis’s attention. They’re both a little tired of all the takeout and frozen meals they’ve been having. “Really? You won’t just let a bunch of vegetables rot in the fridge?”

“That happened once.” 

“Yes, because I never made that mistake again.”

“I promise.” Daniel smiles widely. Louis looks soft and happy like this, away from work and fresh from an orgasm.

Louis grumbles a little more but goes along with it, and a quick shower later, they’re walking around the farmer’s market, picking up the usual stuff they like and some mystery vegetables Daniel can google later.

Louis gets a text, then another one, and after Daniel cocks his head at him, he pulls out his phone to sigh and then laugh. “It’s just Lestat.” 

“Work?”

“No, just asking what I’m doing.”

“You’re not gonna ditch me, are you?” Daniel asks, narrowing his eyes at Louis jokingly.

“Of course not.” Louis says absently, but Daniel loses his attention completely to his phone over the next hour. As Daniel is picking out some eggs, Louis suddenly ducks away and comes back with a small bag of cherries. 

Neither of them really like fruit, and Louis explains, smiling softly to himself, “For Lestat. I’ll give them to him on Monday.”

Daniel just nods, but there’s suddenly a weird feeling in his chest that wasn’t there before today.

That weird feeling turns into worry when he meets Lestat for the first time, by which time, he will realize later, things are already too late.

It’s at the company’s annual summer party — really just an excuse to butter up partners and important clients — which Daniel has been attending as Louis’s date for the past few years that they meet for the first time.

The company has rented out a restaurant with a huge outdoor space and the day is on the right side of warm and sunny, so everyone is mingling outside with drinks in their hands, Louis looking handsome in a crisp white shirt and sunglasses perched on his nose. Daniel is wearing an iteration of what he’s worn to every single one of these things — clean jeans and a button-up over a plain shirt, his hair messy and eyes dark from a late night (and early morning) editing a story. But Louis’s colleagues have gotten used to him at this point, so they barely give him more than a glance.

“Louis!” He hears suddenly, and both him and Louis turn to see a tall man approaching them, smoothly moving through a crowd that turns their head to watch him go.

From what Louis had told him, Daniel had pictured Lestat as a Frenchman in his late-thirties; pug-faced, maybe a little balding, and permanently red in the face from the burst capillaries that come with too much drinking and smoking. The truth is a bit of a hard punch to his stomach, an uncomfortable tightness in his throat. 

He’s otherworldly. 

Daniel doesn’t think there is a person on Earth more beautiful than Louis, but this man—this man might come close. Tall, broad-shouldered and lithe, with bright blue eyes and a soft wide mouth set on a handsome masculine face, a square jaw like he works out to keep everything so sculpted. His hips swing as he walks toward them, effortlessly graceful and a little predatory. And, Daniel notes mournfully, a full head of gleaming blonde hair. He’s maybe a decade older than both Louis and Daniel, but he carries it well. 

Daniel would be worried about being caught staring if it wasn’t for the fact that Lestat hasn’t taken his eyes off Louis once.

Watching them interact is vaguely horrifying.

“Lestat,” Louis says, smile peeking through the corner of his mouth as Lestat comes within earshot. “I thought you were going to be late.”

Lestat grins in delight, like he’s pleased Louis remembered. “Wrapped it up with Daniels sooner than I expected.” His accent is as French as Louis joked it was, but it’s smooth and appealing in his deep voice.

Louis hums, smiling and tapping his chin like he’s in thought. “Huh. Almost like someone told you it was a done deal.”

Lestat just rolls his eyes. “Yes, Louis, you always know best.” But his smile is genuine and wide, and his eyes are traveling over Louis appreciatively and more than a little inappropriately. That smile drops abruptly as Daniel steps closer to Louis and clears his throat, unable to resist putting a hand around Louis’s waist.

Louis starts a little, like he’d forgotten Daniel was here, and Daniel swallows the slight hurt he feels at that.

“Lestat, this is my boyfriend Daniel.” Louis smiles at Daniel a little fondly, even as he subtly angles himself away from Daniel’s hold around his waist. He’s never been comfortable even with the mildest forms of PDA. “Danny, this is Lestat.”

Danny is a nickname Louis almost never uses, mostly because Daniel fucking hates it, and Daniel hears it for the slight warning it is: Be nice.

But Lestat has a new smile on his face, this one wider than the last but cold and a little sharp. “Daniel,” He says in that stupid accent. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from our Louis.”

Our? Daniel grits his teeth and smiles politely. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.” He sips his drink and hopes that the way he says it lets Lestat know that it hasn’t all been positive things.

But Lestat just looks at Louis a little mischievously. “Yes? I can imagine what Louis has said about me.”

Louis just scoffs, but he looks amused. “You deserved it.”

Daniel is less amused by the second, and there’s a weird, itchy feeling in his chest. “You kinda made work hell for him for a while there.” He’s aware his voice is too hard, too protective, even without Louis subtly elbowing him, which he ignores.

“Yes.” Lestat says easily, looking at Louis a little adoringly. “But we’re friends now. Good friends.”

“Right.” Daniel says sarcastically. He feels a dark satisfaction when his tone finally makes it through Lestat’s focus and he turns to face Daniel, eyes cold. “What do you do, Danny?”

Daniel doesn’t rise to the bait. “I’m a journalist.”

“An investigative journalist.” Louis says proudly, smiling at him. “A great one.”

It’s the one thing about himself that Daniel feels completely confident about, so he lets himself grin at Louis, just a little sleazily, all too aware of Lestat’s harsh gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. “Thank you, baby.”

“Louis,” Lestat says suddenly. “Shall we say hello to Dianne? You don’t mind, do you, Daniel?” Lestat’s face is innocent.

“Yeah, of course.” Louis says enthusiastically. “I don’t think she liked me that much last time, though.” 

Lestat laughs, a hand on his shoulder as he turns them around. “I’ll introduce you properly. She’ll love you.”

Louis falls into step with him seamlessly, not sparing a look back at Daniel. Their heads bend together as they speak and smile, and Daniel doesn’t think he’s imagining the way Lestat looks at Louis as Louis smiles shyly at him, eyes heavy and gaze sticking like he’s reluctant to look away. And he definitely isn’t imagining the way his hand lingers then rests lightly on the small of Louis’s back as he guides them through the crowd. As if Louis needs help finding his way through. 

But what makes Daniel’s stomach tremble is the way Louis doesn’t pull away, smiles at Lestat like he’s happy to be guided anywhere Lestat would like.

They look good together, something in Daniel whispers.

The sun suddenly feels way too hot and Daniel walks inside to find a bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face.

They climb out their small window to sit on the fire escape later that evening to smoke a couple of cigarettes. Louis has changed from his party outfit to some shorts and an old t-shirt that he always wears when they smoke. Daniel looks at him, watching the way he observes the street, the gentle slope of his neck, his hair loose and beautiful.

Daniel thinks about the best way to say what he wants to say, gives up on saying the right thing, and goes for the obvious.

“He likes you.” He says, trying to inject some humor in his voice. “Wants you bad.”

“Who?” Louis says, turning to him. 

Daniel raises his eyebrows meaningfully and says, “Lestat.” 

Louis shakes his head and doesn’t answer for a moment. He takes a deep drag to lets it out slowly. “He’s just a flirt, is all. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Everyone?” Daniel says, voice still light and humorous. “He wasn’t like that with me. Straight up didn’t like me.”

Louis smirks a little at that, doesn’t deny it. “You just rub people the wrong way sometimes, baby.” 

It’s nothing Daniel hasn’t heard before, so he just steps closer, putting out his cigarette and cupping Louis’s face. “Well. As long as you like me.”

Louis just kisses him on the mouth, tasting of cigarettes and wine. “You know it.”

Daniel tries his best to put it out of mind. It’s not like he’s not used to Louis getting attention, and this isn’t even the first time a colleague has been interested in Louis.

Daniel is used to the looks they get when they go out together. They’re a good-looking couple, he knows that, though he also knows that Louis does most of the heavy-lifting in that department. He’s cute enough; it’s not like he’s self-pitying about his looks, but he also knows how far that goes, when he needs to start applying charm to get people to like him.

But Louis, he thinks, has never truly grasped how often people’s eyes linger on him, the effect he has when he walks into a room. He knows he’s handsome, aware of the way it changes how people treat him, but it’s more than physical beauty that pulls people in — which Louis seems completely unaware of. How radiant he is, what it feels like when his attention is solely on you, his laugh, his passion, his intelligence.

So, yes, Daniel is used to people wanting his boyfriend. He’s used to people looking at him dismissively when Louis introduces him as his partner. Even his own colleagues at the paper had a look on their face when they met Louis, like “You and him?”. 

They don’t know Louis like he does, and they don’t have him like he does. That’s what he tells himself about Lestat: Lestat might like him, and Louis might have some kind of hero worship for the guy, but Louis still comes home to him every night and sleeps in his arms every night. So. Lestat can go to hell, quite frankly.

On a Wednesday, Daniel wakes up to a couple of texts from Louis. Louis gets up indecently early to go for a run and get ready for work, and it’s a routine Daniel leaves him to, used to sleeping through it and only waking up when Louis has already gone to work.

Hey, text me when you’re up

Forgot my laptop :’( could you bring it in later? I’ll treat you to lunch

Daniel blearily checks the time and sees that it’s already 11. Louis sent the messages at 8:30. He scratches his hair and replies, no chipotle. be there in half an hour ish

He showered before bed last night so he just changes into some clean clothes, packs Louis’s laptop in with his because if he’s going out, he might as well stay out and get some work done. 

When he gets to the fancy high-rise where Louis’s office is, Louis still hasn’t replied to his messages, but the guard waves him through, used to his face from years of coming to bring Louis things. It’s a little careless, sure, but Daniel isn’t used to being treated as trustworthy in his profession so he gives Joe a big grin in thanks.

“Hey, baby.” Daniel knocks on Louis’s open office door, then blinks, realizing no one is in there. He pulls his phone out to text Louis but spots one of his coworkers Sarah who he’s met a few times. “Hey, any idea where Louis is?”

She gives him a weird look, but when Daniel blinks, it’s gone and she’s smiling all friendly, pointing down the big hall. “Go down there and turn left, it’s the big corner one. Mr. Lioncourt’s office.” 

“Right.” Daniel says, and then smiles, close-lipped. “Thanks.”

He counts the steps between Louis’s and Lestat’s office, realizes how measly the distance is between them at work. For a reason he doesn’t think about too hard, he doesn’t knock at Lestat’s door, just peeks his head in and finds them sitting on a small leather couch, Louis leaning back as he talks with his hands, Lestat turned to face him,  laughing, his long arm stretched on the back of the couch. Is the couch too small or are they really just sitting too close to each other?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it before Lestat spots him, eyes widening in surprise and something like curiosity. “Louis, you didn’t say Daniel was visiting you today.”

Louis turns his head to the door quickly, and there’s a small wrinkle between his brows even as he smiles. “Daniel.” He gets up. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, perplexed. “You asked me to come.” He pats his bag. “Your laptop, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Louis says, scratching his head. “God, I sent that so long ago, I forgot.”

Daniel smiles grimly. “Please don’t fucking tell me you made me come all the way here for nothing.” Louis’s face goes blank.

Lestat is watching them with badly-hidden glee, but he schools his expression in time for Louis to turn around and say, “Sorry, Lestat, excuse us for a minute.”

Daniel’s mouth is pressed together, annoyed that Lestat gets a fucking apology before he does. Lestat waves it away grandly, turning to Daniel and saying, “It’s my fault, really, I apologize Daniel. When Louis said he’d left his computer at home, I invited him to work here since I had the files we needed on mine. He just forgot to let you know. My fault again.”

“It’s fine, Lestat.” Louis says, shaking his head. He heads out into the hall first. Daniel gives Lestat a narrow-eyed look that Lestat returns unblinking, head cocked. 

“What the fuck was that?” Louis says, as soon as the door of his office closes behind them.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel repeats, eyes wide. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” 

“Jesus, Louis, I’m here to see you, drop something off that you needed, you’re talking to me like I’m a piece of shit off the street.”

Louis shakes his head. “I work here, Daniel. It’s unprofessional to talk to me like that in front of my colleagues.”

Louis talking to him like he’s some stupid kid instead of his partner who, by the way, is also an adult with a job, is enough to push him from annoyed to pissed the fuck off.

“I thought Lestat was your buddy.” Daniel says, not able to hide the sneer in his voice. Louis’s face twitches in irritation before it goes blank again.

“Just go home, Daniel. We’ll talk later.” Louis says, sighing. Daniel pulls out Louis’s laptop and sets it down not-too-gently on his desk before walking out.

When he gets home that evening after a day of attempting to write and chain-smoking with his friends, Louis is already home, and he watches silently as Daniel toes off his shoes and takes his jacket off.

“I made dinner.” Louis says quietly, in sweats and one of Daniel’s old shirts. “As an apology.”

“The words would’ve been good enough.” Daniel says, shrugging.

Louis steps closer hesitantly, smiling a little when Daniel doesn’t say anything else. He puts both hands on Daniel’s shoulders and says solemnly, “I’m sorry for being an asshole today.”

“Hmm,” Daniel replies, but he melts into Louis’s hold easily enough. They hug, and Daniel presses his face into Louis’s neck, breathes in the smell of Louis’s faded cologne, the lingering smell of sweat and what might be basil from cooking. Louis allows it, saying, “Please take a shower. Those things you smoke with Tyler smell so fucking bad.”

“Okay,” He mumbles. “Take one with me?”

“There’s no way our water pressure is good enough for that.” Louis says, kissing his hair. “But sure.”

The topic of Lestat, of the way him and Louis were sitting close to each other, Lestat’s arm way too casual and familiar over the back of the couch, goes unspoken and unchallenged. But the image lingers in Daniel’s mind.

Another Friday evening Louis comes home and finds Daniel in bed, awake and on his side, watching an errant ant crawl up the wall.

Louis gets into bed and curls around him silently, still in his work suit. Daniel breathes out slowly, “Mark called.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just rubs Daniel’s arm in silent understanding and pulls him in tighter. Daniel has been dealing with his brother since he was in college, who calls every few months to ask for money, for favors, to borrow his car, for more money. Today was another money call, but it ended nastily when Daniel said he didn’t have any to spare and Mark scoffed, “Isn’t your boyfriend loaded? Ask him for it.” It really says something that his brother will only acknowledge Daniel being gay when he’s looking for money.

“I should probably just block his number.” Daniel mumbles. 

Louis hums. “Probably.” But they both know he won’t. Just as Louis is incapable of ever cutting off his cruel mother, Daniel can’t cut off the only family he has left.

“Let’s go out tomorrow.” Louis says. “We can go see that new photography exhibit at the MoMA.”

Daniel scoffs, smiling reluctantly. “Is that supposed to be a treat for me?”

“And,” Louis says, drawing the word out. “We can go to that record store you like with that girl who always flirts with you.”

Daniel sighs. “I could do with an ego boost.”

Louis laughs, soft in his ear. “There you go.”

I can’t lose you, Daniel thinks suddenly, desperately, too afraid to open his mouth and say it. He doesn’t know what Louis would say. Or maybe he knows Louis won’t mean what he says.

The exhibit is fun, if only for the way he gets to watch Louis tilt his head this way and that to study the photos. The girl isn’t at the record store, but the new clerk has great taste in music, so that’s pretty fun, too. Daniel pretends not to notice that Louis buys a few records, including an expensive classical one he knows isn’t for them.

Louis doesn’t always ask for rough sex, but one evening after Louis gets home from drinks with his colleagues, he starts taking his clothes off as soon as he closes the door behind him, pulling Daniel into their bedroom and pulling his shirt off.

Daniel pulls him in, eager and horny, but Louis pulls away after a kiss and says, matter-of-fact, “Need you tonight.”

He’s still taking his clothes off, hands fumbling at the button of his jeans, when Louis gets into bed, getting on his knees and reaching behind himself to play with his hole with slick fingers. He rubs over it once, twice, and then abruptly puts two fingers in at once. Daniel — standing naked at the foot of the bed, cock aching and hard from watching the way Louis’s ass is bare for him, his pretty hole tight on his own fingers — winces in sympathy at the way pace and roughness that Louis using on himself. He joins him in bed and takes over, pulling Louis’s fingers out to replace them with his own. 

“Slow down, baby.” Daniel says, the small alarm he feels at the way Louis is acting drowned out by how fucking turned on he is to have Louis like this, on his knees, legs spread, three fingers now inside him. His cock aches in jealousy.

But when he strokes his other hand down Louis’s back, Louis shudders and, still quiet, reaches back to jerk Daniel’s cock a few times with a lube-covered hand.

“Is that enough prep, Louis?” Daniel mumbles half-heartedly, pulling his fingers out. Louis ignores him and, still reaching behind him, guides Daniel inside.

Daniel moans loudly at the feeling, his vision going hazy at the feeling of Louis’s tight hole gripping him, wet hot heat surrounding him. Louis groans with relief, like he’s been wanting this all day. He settles comfortable on his hands and knees, back arched up to help Daniel get deep. 

“Hard, okay?” Louis says, his voice raspy.

Daniel nods, panting and more than a little dazed at how quickly it’s all happened, and fucks Louis as hard as he can, fast and rough and uneven. Louis is silent for the most part, and the only noise he makes is a grunt when Daniel thrusts too deep. Their skin smacks together loudly, and Daniel groans and tries to stop himself from coming too fast.

He leans over Louis to kiss the back of his neck and reaches under him to grip Louis’s cock, a little relieved to find it hard and leaking. “This good, baby?”

Louis just grunts in reply and takes over to jerk himself off as Daniel applies himself to fucking his boyfriend’s brains out. It’s a relief when Louis finally comes, harsh moans pulled out of him, and Daniel can finally let himself go, shooting a load inside Louis.

“Fuck.” He groans, collapsing on the bed next to him. Louis falls forward on his stomach, panting. After a few minutes of shared silence, Louis suddenly gets up and stumbles to the bathroom.

“Louis?” Daniel calls after him, a little worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Louis just says, closing the door behind him and locking it. Daniel hears the shower start after a few minutes.

Daniel lies in the dark, thinking, trying to push away darker thoughts. He realizes that a light has broken the darkness of the room, and leaning over the edge of the bed, realizes it’s Louis’s phone lighting up with messages.

A strange feeling overcomes Daniel and his heart suddenly feels like it’s going too fast to be normal. He’s torn between trying to calm himself down and grabbing the phone. The latter impulse compels him to pick it up, shaking fingers easily putting in the passcode. 

It’s Lestat. Four messages in the last hour in quick succession:

Are you upset with me, Louis? 

Don’t be like this, cheri.

Do you want me to say he reminded me of you?

Then, a few minutes later: Ignore me, I don’t know what I’m saying.

They were getting drinks tonight, Daniel thinks numbly, as their team always does. And Lestat upset Louis, by…what? It should be a point of pride that his mind still works as quickly as it does even when his heart feels like it’s frozen in his chest. Lestat must have picked up, Daniel thinks, knowing instantly that it’s the truth. And it annoyed Louis. So, Louis came home, and. It’s too much to think about, suddenly, and Daniel stops the thought in its tracks.

He pretends to be sleeping when Louis comes back to bed, freshly showered, and falls asleep with his back to Daniel.

Daniel does his best to shake that weird night. It helps that Louis wakes up the next day himself again, pulling Daniel into a conversation about a book he just finished. Just a weird night, Daniel tells himself, Louis dealing with some leftover stress mixing badly with drinks and Lestat being a fucking menace. Of course Louis came home needing to get rid of some tension. 

Still, he’s vigilant for a couple of weeks. Listens carefully to the stories Louis tells him after work. Is he mentioning Lestat too much? Too little? Does Louis look guilty bringing him up, defensive? In the end, Daniel ends up more confused than before. Louis does talk about Lestat too much, but he’s been doing that for months — basically since the guy started working there. And he doesn’t seem guilty talking about him, or defensive. He talks about Lestat like he’s an extension of his life, as if they’ve known each other for years. Is any of that normal? 

Daniel gets the chance to observe them again when he goes to pick Louis up one evening for a dinner party their college friend Lily is throwing. Louis is, just as last time, not in his office, and Daniel doesn’t even have to ask anyone where he is before he just heads down the hall to Lestat’s office. 

Louis isn’t there either, but Lestat is.

“Daniel.” He says, tilting his head. “Again.”

“Sorry, I thought Louis would be here.”

Lestat smiles. “He just stepped out to take a call, but he’ll be back. You can wait for him here.”

Daniel leans against the wall behind him. “Nice office.” It’s not his style, really, but it is big, and it has a more personal touch than Louis’s — floor lamps and a plush Persian carpet, a big writing desk which Lestat sits behind, some papers in front of him. There’s another chair on the opposite side of his desk, and he recognizes Louis’s jacket over the back of it, his laptop asleep on the desk.

“Thank you.” Lestat says politely, then slyly adds, “Louis finds it easier to work in here than in his office. I assume that was what you were wondering.”

“Nope.” Daniel says easily. “Just an observation.”

Lestat’s smile is sharp. “Is Louis expecting you, Daniel?”

“Yes.” Daniel bites out. “We have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” Lestat leans back in his chair, just as Louis comes in, saying, “Hey, have you heard back from — oh, Daniel.” Louis blinks, and Daniel barely holds in a sigh, wondering how, once again, he’s caught Louis by surprise. In front of Lestat. Again.

“I texted you.” Daniel says flatly. “Lily’s tonight, remember?”

“Right,” Louis says awkwardly, biting his lip and glancing at Lestat. “Shit, sorry Les, I forgot we have a thing with our friends tonight.”

Lestat shrugs easily, smiling at Louis. “That’s okay, Louis. I will just order dinner in and work here.” But there’s a touch of sadness in his eyes, his eyes a little watery in a way that screams fake. Daniel narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to say something before Louis can, but Louis beats him to the punch anyway. 

“But why don’t you come with us?” Louis says brightly, smiling at Lestat. “Lily would love to meet you, and you can meet my other friends too. We’ll just come in early tomorrow and finish things.”

“I’m not sure we should be inviting other people to Lily’s thing.” Daniel says quickly, but Louis says, easily, “It’ll be fine. I’ll call Lily now and ask, but she loves meeting new people, you know that.”

“That’s so kind.” Lestat coos, eyes magically dry again. “It has been hard for me to meet new people since moving here.”

“Wonder why that is.” Daniel mutters, but Louis and Lestat ignore him, smiling at each other.

Daniel feels like he could have told Lily to say no, but Louis has her on the phone and enthusiastically agreeing before he can pull his own phone out. They take Lestat’s car to her apartment.

(“God, I love your car, Lestat.” Louis enthuses, sitting in the front with Lestat while Daniel seethes in the back of his sleek black Mercedes. “I know, Louis. I’ll take you on a longer ride next time.” Lestat says, blithely.)

Jonah and Brick are already there when they arrive, helping Lily set the table, and they’re happy to see Daniel, overjoyed to see Louis, and curious to meet Lestat. Louis sits next to Lestat and across from Daniel, giving him the best view available for Lestat to work his charm on their friends and to watch Louis as he watches Lestat.

“How are you liking America, Lestat?” Lily asks, smiling at him.

“I love it.” Lestat says, smiling back, perfect teeth on display. “So many new things to try.”

Lestat regales them with stories about his life in Paris, his life in New York so far, making everyone laugh — even Brick, who usually takes at least ten business days to warm up to someone new. It makes Daniel grit his teeth, makes him drink more wine than he usually does.

“And work is great, of course. Great colleagues.” Lestat says, smiling at Louis, who smiles softly back.

“Louis’s a little prickly, sometimes.” Jonah says knowingly. “We’re all surprised he has a work friend.”

“Hey!” Louis objects, making everyone laugh, and even Daniel cracks a smile.

“Yes, he hated me at first.” Lestat says, grinning. “But now we are — what do the kids say, mon ami? Work husbands.”

Louis snorts, but his cheeks are flushed and he looks pleased with the sentiment. “You need to stop hanging out with the interns.” Lily sends Daniel a covert look, a single raised eyebrow that Daniel ignores. 

“But they teach me so much about American society, Louis.” Lestat replies, teasing and leaning into Louis’s space.

“And all that new slang you love.” Louis says playfully. There’s a thread of flirtation in his tone that Daniel hasn’t heard in a long time, maybe ever.

Lestat says, slowly like he’s practicing a new language, “Clock my tea.” Louis throws his head back in a loud laugh, and Lestat grins at him, something strange and intense in his eyes as he watches Louis’s face.

Everyone at the table laughs, too, but there’s hesitation there, as though they don’t know if they’re part of the joke. Daniel doesn’t say anything, just drinks more wine and ignores the vaguely alarmed looks their friends throw him.

Lily corners him in the kitchen when he volunteers to load the dishwasher. He can hear Brick and Louis playfully arguing in the living room, Jonah fiddling with a playlist. 

“What the fuck was that?” Lily hisses, grabbing his arm.

“Ask Louis.” Daniel shrugs her off, his tone flat. “I have no fucking clue either.”

Her face when he glances at her is more serious than he expects, and it makes something like dread settle in his bones. “Lestat likes him, has wanted him for a while, I think. I don’t know about Louis.”

Lily nods. “His face was—his expression—“

“I know.” Daniel chokes out and then clears his throat. “I don’t know; maybe a crush.” The hurt and embarrassment feel awful, that someone saw what he saw — the way Louis looks at Lestat, fond and hungry and pleased with his attention. But it also, in a way, makes him feel better. He hasn’t been imagining things.

“Have they slept together?” Lily asks, softly. Daniel shakes his head, shrugs.

Jonah comes in then, asking, “Who’s slept with who?” And then, “Oh. Thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Lily rolls her eyes, turns back to Daniel. “I have nothing against Lestat other than maybe he’s a little sleazy, but you need to stop it now, Daniel.”

“I know.” Daniel rubs his face, doesn’t say that he has no clue what he’s supposed to do other than throw himself between them at work.

Lestat drives them home, and they spend the drive speaking quietly in the front, Louis pointing things out for Lestat — his favorite coffee shop, his favorite Indian restaurant, where he runs in the morning. Always his, never theirs. Lestat absorbs it, looking more interested than is probably warranted for such mundane information. Neither of them notice, nor care, how quiet Daniel is.

When they’re brushing their teeth side-by-side that night, Louis is humming absently, something upbeat, and he says sleepily in bed as they fall asleep, “That was so much fun."

Daniel’s Google searches the next few days are embarrassing: boyfriend’s coworker flirts with him, boyfriend’s coworker has a crush on him reddit, should i be worried if my boyfriend has a work husband.

The common advice seems to be to talk to your partner, to communicate your worries, and establish boundaries together. It’s the last thing Daniel wants to do, mainly because he’s scared that it will only push Louis away. Scratch that: it will push Louis away. 

Things are tense at home, both of them with too much to say to each other and neither willing to start. Louis becomes more snappish, Daniel gives as good as he gets and starts avoiding coming home early, which doesn’t always matter because Louis stays out even longer.

Things come to a head when Daniel finds out that Louis bought Lestat tickets to the opera for his birthday, which they’d be attending together.

“Call it what it fucking is, Louis.” Daniel shouts. “You’re going on a fucking date.”

“I am going. To the opera. With my friend. On his birthday.” Louis says slowly in that tone he uses when he wants to be particularly condescending. He’s putting on a tuxedo and Daniel’s too angry to even appreciate how good he looks.

“You bought him those tickets.” Daniel laughs harshly. 

“Yes, for his birthday.” Louis shouts. “I bought him two tickets, and he asked me to come with him. I didn’t buy them for us.”

“You’re so fucking full of shit, Louis.” Daniel sneers. “I hope you aren’t lying to yourself like this, even if you are lying to me. And his birthday was fucking two weeks ago.” Which Daniel remembers clearly, because there was a big party that Daniel wasn’t invited to and Louis had come home close to three in the morning.

“I’m not lying to you.” Louis rolls his eyes, mouth hard and stubborn.

“You knew he’d ask you to go with him. Don’t fucking lie about it, Louis. So, you wouldn’t be bothered if I went out with a friend to the fucking opera of all things? Dressed in a tuxedo like that?”

Louis throws his hands in the air. “It’s Lestat’s thing, it’s not my thing. And what else am I supposed to wear, anyway? And by the way,” Louis says, putting on his shoes. “You go out with your friends all the fucking time and I never say anything.”

“Because my friends aren’t stupid Frenchmen who are in love with me.”

Louis’s face is shocked, but shocked at what? Did he not think Daniel would notice? “He’s not in love with me.” Louis says defensively.

Daniel snorts derisively. “Wow, you really are lying to yourself, then.”

“Fuck you.” Louis spits out, wrenching the door open, coat folded over his arm. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I’d be shocked if you even came home tonight, to be honest, Louis.” Daniel shouts back, the door slamming before he can finish.

“Fuck.” Daniel puts his face in his hands, notices how they’re shaking. “Fuck.”

Louis does come home late that night. Predictably, Daniel also stays up to wait for him, though he does so under the pretense of needing to write. He knows the opera finished at around midnight, but it’s past two in the morning when he hears the keys in the door and it opens to the sight of a drunk Louis, Lestat holding him up with an arm around his waist.

“Louis overindulged.” Lestat says to Daniel, his tone fond and a little exasperated. Louis is giggling a little to himself, more drunk than Daniel has seen him since law school, his bowtie missing and shirt unbuttoned at the top. Daniel gets over his shock quick enough to help Lestat, holding Louis’s other side.

“For someone from New Orleans, he doesn’t have the greatest tolerance. I’ll do this.” Daniel says, unwilling to let Lestat into their bedroom. Lestat lets him go easily enough, wandering into their living room. 

Daniel helps Louis into their bedroom, taking his clothes off until he’s stripped down to his boxers and helping him into bed. Louis is mumbling something, but Daniel just shushes him, stroking over his hair, his chest tight. Louis grabs his hand suddenly, his grip loose but insistent. “I’m sorry, Daniel.” He slurs, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Louis.” Daniel whispers, thumb rubbing over his hand. “Get some sleep.”

Daniel leaves some water on the bedside table and some Tylenol for him to have when he wakes up, and leaves him to sleep.

He’s surprised to find Lestat still in their living room, standing in front of their bookshelves, looking at some photos Louis had framed when they moved in.

“Louis took those.” Daniel says, clearing his throat. “He used to be really into photography.”

Lestat hums, looking back at him briefly. “Yes, I know. Is he in bed?”

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing him home.”

Lestat shrugs. “Of course.” He lifts a finger to trace some book titles. “Are these all Louis’s?”

“Louis’s and mine.” Daniel answers, a little confused at the reverent way Lestat is touching things, looking at them. “But the fiction titles are mostly Louis’s. The historical romances are also all Louis’s.” He says dryly, surprised again when Lestat laughs softly.

Daniel shifts on his feet awkwardly, unsure what to do now. He kind of wants to start shouting at Lestat, but he’s thrown off by the way Lestat is moving around the room slowly. “Can I get you something to drink? Some water?”

Lestat finally takes the hint, stepping back and turning around to face Daniel. His smile is polite, but his blue eyes are impossible to read. “No. I should go.”

As Lestat is leaving, Daniel grudgingly asks, “You okay to drive?”

“Yes.” Lestat turns, hand on the doorknob. “Please tell Louis to let me know how he is in the morning.”

“Sure.” He won’t.

Alone again, Daniel walks back to the bedroom. He looks at Louis in their bed, duvet pulled up to his neck, face slack and smooth in his sleep. Some weird impulse makes him turn on the beside lamp and tug down the covers a little. Louis usually sleeps in a t-shirt or a sweater when it’s particularly cold; almost never sleeps shirtless unless their AC is acting up in the summer. And he would’ve changed into a t-shirt tonight if he’d been sober enough to do so, in which case Daniel would’ve never seen it.

There, low on his neck: a red mark well on its way to bruising, in the shape of Lestat’s possessive mouth.

It’s not surprising at all. 

Daniel waits for another night that Louis makes excuses about staying later at the office, which comes just four days after his night out with Lestat. They’ve always shared their locations with each other, which is maybe why Daniel had never thought twice about all the nights he’s worked late, but he has a hunch. And his hunches are almost never wrong.

He walks into their office building, grins at Joe and says he’s here to pick up Louis, but he isn’t picking up, could he go check on him upstairs? Joe smiles and lets him go up.

Again, it’s not a surprise. It might just be the most unsurprising thing Daniel has ever seen, so why is heart beating a frantic rhythm in his chest? Why has his body gone cold and his hands numb? He has a clear view into the room, the door left just the slightest bit ajar, hidden in the cover of the dark hallway. Everyone else has gone home. The big office lights are off, the room only illuminated by a floor lamp giving a golden hue to the room.

Louis is bent over Lestat’s big desk, his face twisted in sweet agony. He’s halfway to naked, completely bare down below with just his thin undershirt pushed up to his armpits. Lestat kneels behind him, still mostly dressed, hands holding Louis open and face buried in his ass. 

Daniel swallows through his dry throat and tries to comprehend the sight of this man eating his boyfriend out, grunting and moaning as he does it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Daniel wouldn’t know. He thinks bitterly of every time Louis has pulled away from him in bed.

Louis moans, loudly. “Oh god, Lestat, please. Les, need you, please.”

Lestat pulls away, his mouth wet. He slaps Louis’s ass and rises on his feet. The expression on his face is wild as he looks at Louis splayed before him, pleasure and joy and something that resembles fierce anger. The hand he puts on the back of Louis’s neck is possessive as his other hand unbuckles his pants and pulls himself out. His cock is big and red, thick and leaking like he’s been wanting this all day. Like he’s wanted Louis all his life. It looks painfully hard in his hand as he taps it on Louis’s ass and pushes forward. 

Daniel knows the moment it pops past Louis’s hole because they both gasp, Louis throwing his head back in pleasure. 

“Oh god, Lestat.” Louis slurs, Lestat’s name in his mouth worshipful. Lestat’s hand on the back of his neck moves to his shoulder, keeping him in place as he feeds Louis his length, thrusting hard inside, grunting as he bottoms out.

Lestat hisses in pleasure, hips moving and setting a punishing pace for them. His eyes go between watching Louis’s face turned sideways on his desk and watching where they’re joined together.

“It’s so good.” Louis whimpers, hand reaching out blindly to hold the hand Lestat has on his hip. “Lestat.”

“I give it you so good, don’t I Louis?” Lestat’s voice is deep and rough, and he sets a rapid pace for a few seconds before easing back into deep long thrusts. “I always take care of you, mon amour.”

Louis nods along to Lestat’s words, biting his lip in an effort to keep his voice down and failing.

It’s brazen and incredibly risky, them doing this in what they have only assumed is an empty office. And Louis has never been one to take risks like this, even if Lestat does seem like the type to do this and more in his everyday life. 

“My beautiful boy, so perfect.” Lestat says tenderly, leaning over Louis to capture his mouth with his. Louis leans back eagerly, offering his mouth for Lestat’s tongue. Their mouths are sloppy, tongues pressing and curling like they don’t care about technique, just desperate to taste each other. Daniel doesn’t recognize this version of Louis.

Lestat pulls out after a minute, making Louis whine loudly and reach back for him desperately. Lestat shushes him, smiling fondly, and sits back in his chair, legs spread and cock hard and wet. 

“Come sit in my lap, Louis.” He says, stroking himself to the sight of Louis turning around and climbing onto his lap. They kiss, and in what seems like a practiced, familiar move, Louis reaches behind himself for Lestat’s cock, holding it steady as he lowers himself down, Lestat’s hands helpfully holding Louis’s ass open to make it easier.

From this angle, Daniel can see Lestat’s cock spear Louis, his thick cock disappearing inside Louis’s tight hole.

It’s too much, and he finally looks away, noticing for the first time how wet his eyes are. Lestat groans and Daniel hears him slap Louis’s ass again, Louis laughing breathily and more sounds of them kissing.

It’s enough. He gets it. He takes the elevator down to the ground floor and takes the long walk home to their apartment. His tears have dried by the time he unlocks the front door.

It’s weird how normal he can still act even as heart has fractured into a million parts. The ability to persevere, he thinks idly, or maybe it’s the ability to bury hurt as deeply as he can.

There is anger simmering inside him, anger and awful betrayal, but it’s under a thick choking layer of sadness and some shame that his boyfriend of four years is stepping out on him and has replaced him with someone new. Images of them together haunt him: the look of pleasure on Louis’s face, the way he sounded — familiar to Lestat but unfamiliar to him. New feelings mingle with old feelings of self-hatred, making some toxic new combination that plagues him.

He tries to spend as little time at home as possible, makes up excuses to go on weekend-long trips under the guise of chasing this story or that. Not that Louis really notices.

“You’ve been working a lot.” Louis comments one morning as Daniel arrives home just as Louis is getting ready for work. It’s probably an innocent comment, but it chafes at Daniel, and he replies blandly, “You’ve been working a lot, too, haven’t you?”

Louis just regards him quietly and doesn’t say anything.

Now that he knows what’s happening, it’s easier to notice behavior he’d previously overlooked. 

Louis has always been professional about his work, and even though he’d complain about Mondays and long Fridays just like everyone else, he got up for work everyday without complaint and rarely ever took a day off. Daniel hadn’t noticed how that changed in the last months. How antsy and impatient Louis started to get on weekends, which Daniel had just chalked up to a general boredom with staying home. But it didn’t explain how excited he’d be to go to work on Mondays, sleeping early like a little kid on Sunday nights. How early he’d started going to the office, arriving sooner than everyone and staying later than he needed to. He can imagine it easily now: Lestat meeting him in the morning, taking Louis to breakfast or having coffee together, maybe a quickie in that car of his that Louis loves so much. 

The easy affection he used to give Daniel had also slowly faded over time until it disappeared completely. When was the last time Louis hugged him as he cooked dinner or kissed him on the cheek in bed? 

Daniel examines it all, obsessing over certain days, torturing himself with thoughts of when it began, when Louis had looked at Lestat and decided he was more important than what he’d already built with Daniel.

He’s not sure what he’s waiting for. For Louis to confess suddenly, maybe. He knows Louis and can imagine the guilt and shame he’s suppressing and feels a dark satisfaction at not being the one to end it. That would make it so easy for Louis, and easier still for Lestat to swoop in and take his place. No. If Louis didn’t want to be with him anymore, he’d have to find the fucking balls to end it himself. Daniel wasn’t going to do the job for him.

But the decision comes for him anyway in early December, the city cloaked in its typical rush in the weeks that precede Christmas. He’s in his cubicle at work and phones are ringing all around him, so it takes him a minute to realize his phone is one of those ringing.

“Molloy.” Daniel says absentmindedly, picking up on the unknown number. He’s been waiting for a phone call for an investigation he’s doing and assumes this is them getting back to him.

“Daniel?” A woman’s voice, hesitant. “Is this Daniel? Louis’s umm…Mr. Du Lac’s partner?”

His blood goes cold. “Yes, what’s happened?”

“This is Jessa? I work with Louis?” The woman says. “Sorry, we weren’t sure how to reach out to you, we only just found your number, Louis was in a lot of pain when he arrived at work today so we brought him to the emergency room.”

“We? Are you there with him now? Can I speak to him?” Daniel jumps up from his desk and starts grabbing his things, pulls his jacket on. 

“Oh, no, sorry, not me. I mean Mr. Lioncourt brought him to the emergency room.” She hesitates. “He’s one of the lawyers here.”

Daniel doesn’t bother responding to that, gesturing quickly at his boss that he needs to go. “Which hospital?”

When he arrives in the emergency room, he runs up to the desk of nurses, panting. “Louis du Lac, please. They just brought him in, I think.” 

“You’re his…?” The nurse asks calmly, pulling her glasses on and checking their computer. 

“His partner. I’m his emergency contact.”

She checks her screen. “Daniel Molloy? Can I see some ID, please? We tried calling you earlier.”

He fumbles over his ID, hands shaking. “Sorry, I didn’t know, I’m not sure if that’s my updated number.”

She checks his ID then says kindly, “That’s okay. It’s good you’re here now. Your partner was brought in with appendicitis, he’s in the operating room now. Why don’t you take a seat over there with your friend and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

“Appendicitis?” He chokes out, shaking his head. “Jesus. Yeah, okay, thank you.”

He only registers which friend the nurse is talking about when he sits down and someone grabs his arm, urgent, “How is Louis? They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Lestat’s pale, greying face is a nasty shock to the system, especially when Daniel is nauseous and coming down from the adrenaline rush from a call like that. He shakes Lestat’s hand off, saying, “Yeah, well, you’re not his partner. It’s appendicitis. He’s in surgery.”

“Appendicitis,” Lestat breathes, relieved. He says something that sounds like swearing in French and collapses into the chair next to Daniel.

A doctor comes over to tell him the same thing: Louis has appendicitis and is in surgery, which should take about an hour or so, and depending on how Louis is when he wakes up, he could go home as early as tonight. 

“He’ll need someone to help him with recovery for a few days, especially the first 24 hours after discharge.” The doctor says, matter-of-fact. “I assume that’ll be you?”

“Yeah.” Daniel says, rubbing a tired hand over his face. He’ll have to let his editor know.

Lestat has been listening attentively and starts peppering the doctor with questions about Louis’s recovery, what he can eat, some other bullshit Daniel can’t follow. The doctor gives Lestat a weird look but answers everything.

“Can you really take care of him?” Lestat asks him when the doctor leaves. The question is so patronizing that it literally takes Daniel’s breath away for a second.

“Fuck you, Lestat.”

“It’s just a question, Daniel. If you can’t take care of him, then I will gladly do it.”

Daniel snorts. “Yeah, I bet.”

Lestat doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you have something you want to say to me, Daniel?”

“Stop,” Daniel rubs his forehead in irritation. “Stop saying my fucking name like that, I don’t want to punch you in a hospital. And yes, I have a lot of things to say to you. None of it is particularly helpful right now. Just go home.”

Lestat says quietly, “I want to see Louis.”

Daniel shakes his head. “No. I’ll let you know when he wakes up and when he’s home but no, I don’t want you here.” He laughs weakly. “Please, Lestat, after all the shit you’ve done, just give me this at least.”

Lestat’s mouth hardens, but he nods after a minute. “You’ll let me know? Please.” 

“Yeah.” Daniel’s voice is hoarse and he doesn’t look up, but feels when Lestat gets up and walks away. He breathes out, trying to calm down.

Louis is awake and groggy a few hours later. Daniel is given a huge amount of information sheets about Louis’s medicine, his recovery timeline, what he can and cannot do. He’ll need at least two weeks, maybe longer, before he can go back to work. He absorbs it all automatically. Louis was lucky, he’s told. It was good they got him to an emergency room as quickly as they did before the inflammation got worse. It means his recovery should be simpler.

“Daniel.” Louis mumbles. “What happened?” 

Daniel takes his hand and squeezes it. “Just boring human things. Your appendix decided to fuck off.”

Louis laughs weakly, then moans in pain. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Is Lestat here?”

Daniel swallows down the anger, tells himself it’s not the time for it. “No.” He says, and lets go of Louis’s hand.

As promised, he texts Lestat when Louis wakes up, when he’s discharged, and when they arrive at home. The replies are all variations of Okay, thank you. When Louis is able to start using his phone again the next day, he assumes he won’t need to text Lestat anymore.

Over the next week, Daniel plays the dutiful caretaker, helping Louis walk around, preparing his meals, and reminding him about his meds. When Louis seems well enough to be left alone, Daniel says he needs to check in on some work and Louis nods, promises to call him if anything starts hurting.

Daniel doesn’t head to work; he goes to see Lestat.

Lestat is behind his desk in his office, staring blankly at some documents on his table, nibbling the edge of his thumbnail. For a second, Daniel takes vicious pleasure in knowing that Lestat can’t access Louis when he’s at home recovering; it must be killing him.

Daniel raps on the door, and Lestat doesn’t look surprised to see him, maybe even a little grateful.

“How is he?” He asks immediately, eyes flying over Daniel’s face like it can tell him everything he wants to know.

“He’s fine.” Daniel shuts the door and sits across from him. “You haven’t been texting him?”

Lestat’s mouth twists sardonically. “He has not been replying to me. But you knew that.”

Daniel nods, unsurprised. He can imagine how guilty Louis feels with his lover texting him and begging to see him while the boyfriend he’s been cheating on nurses him back to health. He still thinks Daniel doesn’t know.

“You need to end it.” Daniel says.

“No.”

“Fine. He’ll end it with you soon, anyway.”

Lestat has the gall to look amused. “He won’t.”

“You have no idea what you’re trying to fuck up here, Lioncourt.” Daniel rasps. “For just a bit of fun—“

“Don’t presume to know what I want.” Lestat’s voice is as hard as his expression. “Louis is—" Lestat swallows, stopping himself, his expression suddenly fractured before he fixes it again.

“You’re — what? In love with him?” Daniel laughs, shocked and suddenly so, so scared. 

Lestat looks at him gravely, now perfectly composed, his fingers tapping at the edge of the table. “It’s none of your business.”

“He’s my partner. It’s my fucking business, believe me.”

Lestat laughs silkily. “You’re terrified of me, Daniel.”

“What’s there to be scared of?” Daniel asks harshly, even as his heart betrays him. “You think he’s yours because he lets you fuck him? You don’t know him.”

“You coddle him when he needs to be challenged.” Lestat says harshly. “And push him too far when he needs to be gentled. You don’t know what you’re doing with him and he stays with you out of pity.”

“What the fuck would you know?” Daniel says, laughing at the absurdity of Lestat talking about his relationship.

“Louis shares everything with me.” Lestat’s mouth is a harsh line.

“I saw you two.” Daniel says bitterly, realizing. “You wanted me to catch you.” An empty office, a door left just a crack open, how did Daniel not realize it sooner? Who knows how long Lestat has been baiting Daniel, waiting for him to blow up his relationship with Louis. It must have been so annoying when Daniel kept hanging on anyway.

“Yes.” Lestat says, unrepentant. “Though I’m not sure which time you saw us.”

“It still doesn’t matter.”

Lestat shakes his head. “You wouldn’t be here talking to me if there wasn’t something to be worried about.”

But Daniel hears the thread of insecurity, faint as it is, and he pounces. “Ask him to choose then.” Daniel says. “Ask him to choose if you’re so sure it’s you. But you don’t know him like I do. Maybe he’s having a good time with you, but he hates that he’s doing this to me. He hates that he’s doing this to me with you.”

Louis prides himself on how loyal he is, how devoted he is to the people he loves. And Daniel has stuck with him through everything — late nights studying for the bar, tough fights with his family, tense dinners with his mother. Maybe it says something about Daniel, but he doesn’t care that it’ll fall on that to be able to keep Louis. 

Daniel pushes his chair out, grabs Louis’s things and walks out of Lestat’s office, pausing at the doorway only to say, “I hope it fucking kills you when he chooses me.”

Another week passes of polite conversation and waiting for Louis to get better, and a few days before Louis is due back at work, they sit down for dinner and Louis breaks.

“Daniel.” He says, voice fractured. “We need to talk.”

Daniel sighs and pushes his dinner away. “Yeah.”

“You know?” Louis says, voice quiet.

“About you and Lestat? Of course I fucking know.” His voice sounds angry and unfamiliar to his own ears. “You haven’t exactly been careful, Louis. You probably wanted me to know; God knows Lestat did.”

Daniel is surprised to see that Louis has tears in his eyes. “It’s not like that, Daniel.”

“Are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. For hurting you, and — and for forcing you into a situation where you had to take care of me when—“ His voice breaks off. “I’m so sorry, Daniel.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it.” Daniel concludes. He wipes at his own eyes, laughs. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Do you want to break up?” Louis asks, voice raspy. 

“You tell me, Louis.” Daniel is so tired. “It’s your decision.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Louis whispers. 

“Then break it off with him and maybe we can try to fix things. But you have to mean it.”

After a painful long minute, Louis nods. “Okay.” 

Daniel’s smile feels tremulous, false, and he lets it drop off his face.

Louis goes back to work. On his third day back, he’s late coming home, and as soon as Daniel sees his face he understands what happened. He’s made an effort to clean his face, but his eyes are swollen and still, even now, tears are forming and being rapidly blinked away.

“It’s done?”

Louis nods, playing with the keys in his hand. “It’s done.”

“What happened?” Daniel says quietly, approaching him.

Louis shrugs, shakes his head. “I told him I couldn’t hurt you anymore. He’ll ask for a transfer back to Paris, and I’ve sent in a request for a week off while they do that. I said I’m still not feeling well. He’ll be gone after Christmas.”

Daniel nods, chest loosening for the first time in what feels like months. He pulls Louis into a hug, which Louis returns after a moment, a little limply. “Thank you.”

They make a good effort of it, he’ll give them that much. 

Louis decides he’s not well enough to travel back to NOLA to spend Christmas with his family, and Daniel, who usually spends Christmas alone, still uninvited to the du Lac celebrations despite being with Louis for this long, is grateful to have him.

They exchange small gifts and Daniel cooks. It’s a little awkward at first, but they settle on safe topics: films, books, current events. Testing the edges of this new chapter of their relationship. On New Year’s Eve, they kiss and play a little at making out, but Louis can’t disguise the relief on his face quickly enough when Daniel pulls away and says he’s way too old to stay up until midnight.

Lestat is gone when Louis goes back to work, and Louis carries on like he never existed. He comes home with stories about new colleagues and new clients, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that he can’t shake and that Daniel can’t ignore. Sometimes when Daniel wakes up in the middle of the night, Louis is in their living room blankly watching old reruns on mute. It’s depressing and more than a little terrifying.

One day while grocery shopping, Lily calls him out of the blue. “You won’t believe who I saw at this bar last night.” She says, urgently. “Lestat.”

Daniel is dumbfounded, and a familiar feeling of betrayal comes flooding back in. “He’s supposed to be in Paris.”

“I know. I told him that, too, but he said he’d found somewhere else to work here and liked New York too much to leave.” She pauses. “I don’t think Louis knows, if that helps.”

“How do you know?”

“He kept fishing for details about Louis. What he’s doing, how his health is, he even tried asking if I knew what shows he’d been watching lately.” 

Daniel scoffs, but feels marginally better about Louis not knowing. “Asshole.”

“Yeah. I told him you two were still together. I said it very pointedly, too, but he didn’t seem surprised.”

And why would he be? Daniel was right in the end, wasn’t he? Louis chose him. But the victory rings hollow.

They’ve changed, is the thing. They’ve been irrevocably and completely changed. They can’t bring back what they had before Lestat, and now they’re just waiting for the other person to acknowledge it.

In the end, their demise as a couple is anticlimactic. But if Daniel had wanted a proper breakup like in the films, he probably shouldn’t have let his boyfriend carry on cheating on him unchallenged for months.

He comes home one night to the sight of Louis sitting on their couch, dressed up, his suitcases lined up against the hallway. Daniel doesn’t feel much surprise. 

“Daniel,“ Louis starts, solemn. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and—“

“You’re going back to him?” Daniel interrupts.

Louis looks perplexed, thrown off. He probably had a speech he practiced. “Back to him?”

“He’s in New York, isn’t he? I assume you met up.”

“Lestat’s in New York?” Shock, joy, fear, relief. 

Daniel looks away. “Thought Lily told you.”

Louis shakes his head. “No, I — Lily knew? Wait, Daniel. It doesn’t…actually matter, I doubt he wants to see me if he’s been here the whole time without reaching out.”

He takes a deep breath and starts again. “Daniel, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I don’t think this relationship is working anymore.” He scratches his head, then says frankly, “It probably hasn’t been working for a long time and I know that’s mostly my fault. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning and I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life for the way I treated you, but I think I owe you honesty now. This isn’t working. I think you know that, but it’s on me to fix things when I was the one to break it, so.”

Daniel nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Daniel sits on the other side of the couch and confides, quietly. “I love you, but I…I don’t think I like you very much anymore.”

“Yeah.” Louis’s laugh is self-deprecating. Still so fucking beautiful, even as he’s dumping Daniel. “That makes sense.”

“I care about you so much.” Louis says, leaning forward. “You mean so much to me. I’m so proud of you and you’re a better person than I’ll ever be.”

“Okay.” Daniel scoffs.

Louis’s face is grave. “I’m serious, Daniel. I know you don’t believe what I say, but it’s true.” 

Louis calls himself an Uber and carries his suitcases down himself. “I paid another month of rent. Stay here while you find a new place. I’ll get some people to pick up the rest of my things when you aren’t home.” He’s trying to hide it, but Daniel can tell the mention of Lestat being in New York has unsettled him and has made him eager to get out of here as soon as he can.

Daniel nods anyway, glad his ex at least isn’t the type of asshole to demand he gets out of his apartment, despite the fact that Louis pays the rent for this place. 

They don’t hug and they don’t kiss as they part, and neither of their eyes are wet, but that feels like a fitting end for them, anyway.

Daniel changes the sheets and sleeps spread out in the middle that night.

Two years later

“This has got to be the most pretentious crowd of people I’ve ever been part of.” Daniel says, on his second glass of expensive champagne. Free, of course.

“Key word being ‘part of’.” Chris says snottily. 

Daniel makes a sarcastic face at him. “Why did I bring you to this again?”

“Because you’re a miserable bastard and want to get laid later.” Chris says promptly.

“Ha ha.” Daniel intones, rolling his eyes, eyeing the crowd around them with unease. Apparently, all it takes to be invited to these fancy parties in New York is to win a Pulitzer. But now that he’s been to one, all he wants is to go home and get drunk on his own.

“Give me a minute, I need some air.” Chris pats his back and lets him go.

Daniel stumbles out onto the street and lights a cigarette, looking up at the dark sky. It’s still too early in the evening, and he can’t see anything.

He exhales, looks down the street, and sees them. 

More than two years since he last saw Louis, even longer since he saw Lestat, but there they are suddenly, like the images have been pulled out of his head and rendered in front of him at will.

They’re walking together, heads tilted towards each other as always. Louis’s hair is longer than he’s ever seen it, and he dresses a little differently now, more casual but still so heartbreakingly handsome. His face is animated, smiling and talking, and Lestat watches him eagerly. They’re in perfect step together. 

People pass them and can’t help but look, some craning their necks to keep watching — these two gorgeous men so obviously besotted each other that they don’t even notice. 

Lestat laughs at something Louis says and grabs Louis’s waist, pulling him close. Louis hip checks him and pulls away, but just as quickly grabs Lestat’s hand, their fingers intertwining on instinct. There’s an easy, open affection there that he’s never seen from Louis before. It looks beautiful on him.

Just then, Louis reaches up to tuck Lestat’s hair behind his ear and Daniel catches the glint of a ring on his finger. He can’t see it, but he’s sure Lestat has a matching one on his ring finger.

They’re too wrapped up in each other to notice when they come close to where Daniel is leaned against a wall, smoking and able to hear snippets of their conversation.

“—go in and say hi, okay? I’ll be back.” Louis is saying, reaching up to kiss Lestat on the mouth. Lestat hums and holds him, resisting when Louis tries to untangle himself. 

Louis laughs, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Be quick, please. I don’t want to lose our table.”

“We won’t.” Louis promises easily, squeezing Lestat’s hand and walking inside the same party Daniel just left. Jesus. What a close call.

Lestat looks after Louis for a moment, then glances around before he freezes, his eyes swinging back to Daniel.

Daniel isn’t ashamed to say he takes great delight in the shock and trepidation on Lestat’s face. He waves blithely. 

Lestat raises a hand to wave back hesitantly. 

Daniel turns his hand around and flips him off. 

Lestat rolls his eyes dramatically, and tips his chin toward the door. Daniel nods at the silent question, Are you attending this, too? 

The relief that he’s out there and not inside where he might come across Louis is plain on both their faces. When Louis comes out again, chattering about some friend of his, Lestat moves quickly, tugging him close and hustling him down the street as if Daniel might be tempted to call out for Louis. 

Daniel rolls his eyes. Fucking French asshole.