Work Text:
2009
Richard doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s never had a lot of friends, and as a 20 year old college dropout, it’s not much different. So when the two friends he does have, Nelson “Bighead” Bighetti and Max Kearnow, suggest they go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, he can’t really say no. Which isn’t to say he didn’t try: he argues that he can’t take the time off, that he’s too broke, but he’s been working at Hooli for a year and has plenty of vacation time saved up, and the trip really isn’t that expensive anyway: Bighead’s brother goes to Tulane, so they’re sleeping on his floor, and Max has a car, so they’re driving down. They can stay at Max’s parents’ place in New Mexico on the way, so all he has to do is pitch in for gas.
So they go, and all in all, it’s not as bad as Richard fears. The road trip itself is fun, and Max’s mom dotes on them in Albuquerque. Even New Orleans is pretty cool: on Monday afternoon, Bighead’s brother Anthony shows them around the French Quarter, and that evening he takes them to a cool jazz club.
Tuesday morning, he is awoken by a kick in the knee from Max. “Come on, dude, it’s time to start drinking.”
Richard groans and stretches. He turns to the kitchen, where Bighead and Anthony are already pouring shots.
“Guys, it’s 9:30,” Richard whines.
“Exactly,” Anthony says, pounding a shot of tequila, “we’re already behind. It’s Mardi Gras, motherfuckers!”
By the time they leave the apartment, they’re tipsy, and by the time they make it to the parade route, they’re drunk. Mardi Gras in New Orleans is just as insane as Richard imagined: music blaring, people dancing, beads and booze everywhere. Something about it makes Richard feel absolutely wild. He found himself dancing in the streets, accepting drinks from strangers, and even flashing his chest at one point in an attempt to get beads.
He gets so caught up in the thrill of Mardi Gras that he doesn’t even notice that he’s drifted away from his friends until he turns to ask Max if he can borrow $5 for a piece of cake, only to find him gone. He turns around and around anxiously, hoping to catch sight of them.
He stops spinning when he feels a pair of strong hands on his shoulder, stilling him. The hands turn him around, until he is facing a man’s bare chest. Well, not completely bare: the chest is adorned with a tattoo of what appears to be a bird on fire and at least 17 bead necklaces. Oh, and two tiny silver bars in his nipples. Richard tilts his head up to see the face attached to the chest. The (very handsome) face is looking down at him with concern.
“Are you alright?” The man asks. “You look lost.”
“Um, yeah, I can’t find my friends,” Richard replies. He can’t tear his eyes away from the man’s mouth.
“Oh, dear, do you need to call them? I know a quiet place nearby, if you want to make a phone-“
Richard cuts the man off with a kiss. The man’s lips are frozen. When Richard pulls away, the man stares at him in shock.
“I’m-I’m so sorry,” Richard splutters, “I normally, I wouldn’t, it’s just I’m drunk and it’s Mardi Gras, and you’re so- but I’m sorry there’s no-“
This time, the man cuts Richard off with a kiss. His mouth tastes like gin and mint and water all at the same time and it’s incredible. Their lips move against each other, and Richard wraps his arms around the man’s neck. The man’s hands come up to cup Richard’s jaw. It’s the best kiss Richard’s had in awhile. Richard whimpers quietly when the man pulls away.
“Donald,” the man says softly.
“Who?”
“Donald. That’s my name, Donald.”
“Oh. I’m Richard.”
“So, Richard, did you want to find a quiet place to call your friends?”
“I want to find a quiet place.”
This is crazy. Richard doesn’t do this. Richard doesn’t do hookups, he barely even dates, he certainly doesn’t kiss strangers in the streets of an unfamiliar city. But it’s Mardi Gras, and there’s something in the air that makes Richard want to throw caution to the wind and go after what he wants. So when Donald grabs his wrist and pulls him through the streets, Richard follows willingly, eagerly, laughing the whole way.
Eventually, Donald leads him to a store front just off the parade path. The sign above the door reads “Esoterica Occult Goods.” Richard presses up against Donald’s back and wraps his arms around him as Donald unlocks the door.
“How do you have a key to this place?” Richard asks. “Are you a member of the occult? Are you my- my, uh, handsome vampire prince?” He giggles.
“No, silly,” Donald says, pushing the door open. “I just work here.”
“Mm, that’s too bad,” Richard says as he backs Donald into the front counter. He mouths at the underside of Donald’s jaw. “I was hoping to see some of that super vampire strength.”
“I think that can be arranged, mon cher .” And that’s all the warning Richard gets before Jared lifts him up, spins him around, and sits him on the counter.
“Fuck,” Richard breathes. Donald smiles and brings their mouths together for another deep kiss. Richard moans into his mouth, and threads his fingers through Donald’s hair. Donald is pressed up close against him, and Richard has never been this turned on in his life.
Eventually, Donald breaks away to whisper in his ear, “would you like to go to my place?”
Richard freezes.
“Um, do we have to?” he asks.
“Well, we don’t have to,” Donald says. “But this is my place of business, so we can’t really, well…” he pulls Richard toward him, and Richard can feel exactly what Donald wants to do at his place. Which is scary. And exciting, But mostly scary.
“Oh, yeah, but I’m- I mean, I don’t really know if I- I mean, look, I’ve never even kiss a guy before. Kissed a guy. A man. Before this.” He can feel the panic rise in his chest, and he knows he’s seconds away from a full-blown freakout. “And I’m drunk, also, so, maybe I wouldn’t even be able to, you know.” Smooth.
“That’s okay,” Donald says soothingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so drunk. We can just stay here and talk, if you’d like. Would you like some water?” but it’s too late. Richard is already in panic mode, and he can’t break out.
“No, no, that’s okay. I don’t think- I don’t think that would be a good idea. I should just, um, I should just call my friends. See where they are.” Richard slides off the counter, and nearly falls over, he’s so dizzy.
“Woah, Richard, are you alright?” Donald asks, reaching out to steady Richard.
Richard looks up into Donald’s concerned face. He wants to kiss him again. He wants to run away as far as possible and never come back. He wants to melt into his arms.
Eventually, the fear wins out.
“I’m uh, I’m fine,” he mumbles. He rips his eyes away from Donald and quickly dials Bighead’s number. “Uh, hey, Bighead? It’s me, Richard. Where are you?” Bighead gives him the address of a bar, which he repeats to Donald.
“Lucky’s? That’s two blocks west of here, on St. Charles. I’ll walk you there.”
“No, no, that’s fine, I can make it,” Richard says, practically running to the door. He risks another look at Donald, who looks like he’s been kicked. Fuck. He runs back and kisses Donald on the cheek. “Um, thank you,” he says, then runs out the door again.
The next morning, Richard is woken up again by a kick in the stomach.
“Dude, it’s time to go,” Max tells him. “We have to get on the road.”
Richard groans into his pillow. Fuck, he’s never been so hungover in his life.
“I’ve never been so hungover in my life!” he moans. Max smirks.
“Yeah, I bet. Dude, you were so drunk. I’ve never seen you like that. And then you ran off for like, half an hour! What happened? What’s with that bruise on your neck?” Max’s eyes go wide and his voice drops. “Wait, Richard, is that a hickey? Did you hook up with a girl?”
Richard flops over onto his back. He rubs the hickey on his neck, and thinks about the sweet vampire prince who put it there. The details are fuzzy, but he’s pretty sure he’ll never forget that smile.
“Uh, yeah, I did. Her name was Don- ah. Donna.”
“Sweet.” Max nods appreciatively. “Well hurry up and get your pants on, we gotta go.”
2014
“Names stick. My name’s only Jared because Gavin called me that on my first day. My real name is Donald.”
Richard doesn’t think too much of it in the moment. It’s just another unsettling thing from the mouth of Jared. It isn’t until later that it really sinks in that he’s been calling Jared by the wrong name this whole time.
Donald, he thinks, what kind of name is Donald? The only Donald I’ve ever met is-
Oh.
Oh no.
It couldn’t be, right? I mean, Donald was a badass. He worked in an occult store and had a huge chest tattoo. He was strong, and in control, and had a sweet, dopey smile-
Shit.
Jared was Donald, New Orleans Donald, the sexy fucking vampire man whose surprisingly strong arms and nipple piercings Richard had jerked off to countless times in the last few years. Jared, sweet, milky, strange Jared, with his stupid fleece vests, and his soft blue eyes, was also Donald, the man who gave him the hottest makeout session of his life.
“Hey, Jared?” Richard says, poking his head into the kitchen. Jared has cleared a tiny space on the disgusting kitchen counter to make himself a sandwich. It’s surprisingly endearing. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Richard. Would you like a turkey sandwich?”
“No, I don’t- Wait, I thought you didn’t eat meat?”
“I don’t, but Dinesh told me to make him a sandwich, so.”
“Ok, well, don’t, don’t make Dinesh a sandwich. Um, I was wondering, have you ever been to Mardi Gras? In New Orleans?”
“Yes, I have!” Fuck. “I actually lived in New Orleans from 2008 to 2009.” Double fuck. “I was working at an occult store at the time.” FUCKKKKKKK.
“Ok, cool. Cool. That’s, that’s good to know.”
“Were you thinking of going to Mardi Gras? I’d be happy to prepare an itinerary for you. How do you feel about seances?”
“Um, no, I’m not- that’s not why I- I’ve been before. To Mardi Gras. In 2009.”
“Really?” Jared says brightly. “That’s when I was- oh.” Jared’s eyes go wide. Richard wants desperately to turn away, but he can’t bring himself to. “Richard, did you and I-”
“Yeah,” Richard says quickly. “That was me.”
“Gosh, I thought you looked familiar. I assumed I knew you from working at Hooli, but I suppose-”
“I’m sorry,” Richard says, interrupting him again. “I’m sorry I, well, I’m sorry for the way I treated you. That I just left like that.”
Jared puts down his knife and approaches Richard.
“Richard, you have nothing to apologize for. We were having a sexual encounter, you were no longer interested, and so you left.”
“But I was interested.” Jared freezes at that. “I was very interested. I just panicked. But I wish I’d stayed. I wish we had continued, um, what we were doing.”
Jared smiles that dopey smile of his.
“I wish we had too,” he confides. Fuck, he’s cute.
“Um, I was wondering, would you like to go out to dinner? With me?” Richard asks.
Jared leans even closer, and places a kiss on Richard’s cheek.
“I would love to, mon cher .”