Chapter Text
It took Lestat a very long time to realize when Louis was manipulating him, looking back on everything it was painfully obvious. Anyone but Lestat was able to see it, he was just so blind with his love for the green eyed man it had flown right over his head. Lestat was unable to deny his love on most things and when Louis came to fully acknowledge that the floodgates had opened.
When Louis had begun his frustrating diet of vermin Lestat had been frustrated, he knew what it would mean for his love. He would be weaker, he would never properly fully manifest any of his vampiric abilities. Not to the fullest extent had he kept eating humans.
Louis had looked up at Lestat then, through his long black lashes, his pupils nearly consuming the green. A painfully adorable puppy dog stare, a silent apology that Lestat was too helpless to not accept. He would leave Louis to his rats, birds, and squirrels. Lestat however would focus his attention on a certain songstress that was new to Azalea Hall.
It was a childish way of getting back at Louis, but he missed the intimacy that they had between them. Missed the satisfaction of completion, but they often had to cut their more intimate moments short because Louis would be flaccid. Not from lack of interest, he would insist, but because of the lack of blood.
Lestat wondered why Louis decided to gain a moral compass when he became a vampire and not while he was a human selling the flesh of young displaced women. Lestat so wished that Louis would abandon such a foolish desire. Many humans killed just for the satisfaction of it, they gained nothing, at least vampires got nourished by it, were revitalized by the blood.
Lestat craved intimacy, to be desired, to be touched and loved. In the beginning of Louis’s diet he had felt none of those things. He felt terribly lonely and rejected by Louis. He wanted Louis to show him that he still cared and still wanted him so he had childishly spun Antoinette around, pressed his nose against her temple while his gaze remained firmly on Louis.
He had been hoping for Louis to leap to his feet, yank Antoinette from his arms, snap her neck and make love to Lestat on the chaise lounge. Instead he was greeted with Louis’s pitch black gaze, his face indifferent. Then a small smile spread, that sweet smile. Louis got to his feet and excused himself, claiming he was hungry.
The familiar sting of betrayal rushed through Lestat once more, he was unable to keep the taunting commentary to himself and Louis with all his grace simply smiled once more over his shoulder and left their home.
Lestat fucked Antoinette with Louis on his mind, thinking about his smile, and how he looked no top of Lestat, below him. Antoinette squealed too much, her moans too whiny and high pitched, the falsetto of it made his ears ache. Lestat knew he was good, amazing even at sex, but he wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth to shut her up.
“What is that smell-” Lestat spoke, his head whipping around the room, Antoinette groaning, wondering why he stopped.
“Smoke? A fire!” she shrieked when the drapes suddenly lit up in flames. Lestat jumped to his feet, and hastily pulled on his clothing. He frantically wondered how a fire had suddenly started, and instantly wondered if it had been a human that had grown suspicious of them. They hadn’t been in New Orleans long enough for anyone to become suspicious of them but they were gaining a bit of a reputation.
Lestat’s first instinct was to abandon Antoinette in order to find the music box. The last thing he had of his precious Nicki. That was by far the most important thing in the home. Lestat had left Antoinette’s side, uncaring that he could have revealed himself to her. Wiping her mind would be of little issue if she proved to be a problem later on.
When they both rushed out of the Rue Royal they were greeted with Louis leaning back against the stone wall, a cigarette between his full lips, and his gaze lidded. Pulling the butt of the cigarette from his mouth he tapped the ashes off his cigarette. He looked so handsome then, that Lestat hadn’t properly heard the words that left him.
“Did a candle fall over?” he inquired, feigning worry but his relaxed posture said differently from the concern in his tone.
“Did you just try to burn us alive?!” Antoinette demanded, her voice panicked and filled with disbelief.
“What?” Louis asked, his voice laced with fabricated hurt but the crushed expression is what sent Lestat into action when he whirled on her.
“Of course he wouldn’t. What would possess you to even say such a thing?” Lestat demanded.
Antoinette turned to Lestat, her mouth agape and blue eyes wide as she stuttered over herself to explain. Lestat had been so enraged at her accusation that he nearly snapped her neck then and there; she was only saved by Louis carefully placing a hand onto his arm.
“She’s in shock. How about you walk Ms. Brown home?” Louis suggested softly.
“She can make her own way home.” Lestat said bitterly. Antoinette released a broken sob and fled while the Rue Royal continued to burn. Lestat didn’t see the pleased smile, only felt those arms wrapping tightly around him.
“You ok, cher?” Louis’s voice was muffled against the smokey fabric of his shirt. Lestat melted against Louis, the singer long forgotten as he lovingly returned his embrace. Mindful of the music box.
“I am fine. But I am certain we didn’t leave any candles lit. You didn’t hear anyone when you returned?” Lestat asked tilting Louis’s chin to look into those enchanting eyes.
“It’s New Orleans, someone is always wandering around.” Louis said, running his hands along the sides of Lestat’s body. There was a glow to Louis that Lestat recognized, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. Their home was on fire, but Lestat could always get it fixed or purchase a new one.
“You fed on a human.” he chuckled, holding Louis’s cheek.
“I didn’t do it for you.” Louis replied, rolling his eyes.
“You aint gon kill her? I gave you the perfect opportunity to.” Louis said suddenly, his gaze sharp.
Lestat was surprised by Louis of all people asking such a thing. The man of such moral standing demanding to know when Lestat planned on murdering a human?
“She has talents.” he responded, tilting his head. Louis’s gaze briefly flickered down to the music box that Lestat held then back to his face. The answer evidently wasn’t satisfactory, that was made very clear when Louis had reached up and yanked Lestat’s hair then stormed away. Lestat had shouted in response only to follow it up with a laugh, delighted by the display.
“Louis! Louis!” he had called, still laughing as he gave chase.
**
Lestat learned of Louis’s gift of fire manifesting early when Antoinette’s home had caught fire, along with a string of other brothels that were allowed to remain open when Azalea Hall was shut down. The papers posted bold headlines talking about an arsonist on the loose. Lestat only learned of it when he witnessed it with his own eyes when he had spontaneously decided to follow Louis one night.
It had become a sporadic hobby when Louis had first taken Jonah to the Bayou and since then Lestat just made a bit of an occasional habit of it. He watched Louis take the little drink from a drunkard stumbling through the streets.
He followed as Louis crouched to carefully pet a cat that purred loudly with affection. He listened as Louis’s heart raced at the display, he lifted the cat into his arms and carried the little brown creature with him for several blocks before he finally let it go. Lestat expected Louis to feed on the cat so the fact that his love decided to let the feline go had been a surprise.
Lestat was disgusted with how cute Louis was, he wanted to reveal himself and hold his love when seeing just how soft he was around such a vicious tiny creature. Lestat was never fond of cats, he was a dog person through and through.
A group of drunk men had passed Louis and came upon the friendly feline, Lestat sighed softly when watching one of the men kick the cat, sending it flying with a pained mewl. Lestat winced and felt his chest ache knowing how it would pain Louis. He had expected Louis to flinch but keep walking, his back to the men.
Instead. . .instead Lestat bore witness to his fledgling, nearly a decade old turn to the men, his eyes filled with anger. The man who kicked the cat caught fire followed by the other two who had laughed. Their joyful chortles turned into cries of agony. Lestat watched slack jawed as Louis calmly weaved between the flailing men to collect the chocolate cat.
Lestat had become painfully hard at the display of power.
When Louis returned back to their new furnished townhouse with the cat in his arms and his big eyes pleading, Lestat couldn’t possibly refuse him. He let Louis keep the cat, footed the bill for a trip to the vet and fucked Louis against every available surface that night.
Louis adored that cat, he had wanted Lestat to name her much to Lestat’s own delight. He had named the cat Louis the II which earned a small smile from his love. Louis doted on the cat and it was excellent for his diet. He was more inclined to feed off of people rather than animals once he owned one.
He would still feed on rats sometimes but it was once in a while, he often brought them home just to watch Louis II chase them around the foyer. It was. . .disgusting but Lestat allowed it because it made Louis and Louis II happy.
He hadn’t broached the topic of Louis’s gift of fire, he was curious to see when Louis would mention it to him on his own. Lestat was slightly upset with Louis keeping it from him but he was mostly amused by how his fledgling put it into use.
He now knew it was Louis who set those buildings ablaze including Antoinette’s home. It also dawned on him though. . .that it had been Louis who had set their previous home on fire as well. Lestat didn’t believe Louis had any intention of killing him at the time but the risk was still there. Just how long had Louis known about his ability? So as delicately as he could, Lestat broached the question.
“How long have you been able to use your fire?” Lestat asked, watching Louis hold Louis II up by her front paws forcing her to do some sort of dance. The cat was as in love with Louis as Lestat was with how she allowed him to toy with her with seemingly unending patience. Louis’s green eyes shot up to Lestat’s own then carefully lowered the cat’s paws onto the ground.
“Awhile.” Louis said still too vague but also not dodging the question completely.
“Were you trying to kill me back at the Rue Royal?” Lestat continued his line of questioning.
“No.” Louis replied, petting Louis II.
“When were you going to tell me that you manifested this ability?” Lestat pressed on and became offended when Louis threw his head back and laughed.
“Probably around the same time you told me ANYTHING about being a vampire besides the basics like feeding and mind reading. You don’t tell me shit about yourself, but here you come, questioning me.” Louis got to his feet and approached Lestat who was sitting on their floral printed sofa.
Lestat bit the inside of his cheek, he knew Louis was right, he was being hypocritical. Demanding answers from Louis when Lestat held his own secrets so closely to his chest.
“One last question then. Were you jealous?” Lestat reached out, placing his hands on Louis’s hips when he was within arms reach. Louis stared down at Lestat then sat on his lap and leaned against him, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Maybe.” was all Louis offered. It was enough for Lestat. He hugged Louis tightly and peppered kisses along his fledgling’s temple, cheek, and back up again.
“I love you Louis.” Lestat purred. Louis didn’t respond, only pressed his lips to the underside of Lestat’s chin and led him to their bedroom.
Back then Lestat didn’t know. He had believed that Louis didn’t truly love him because of his lack of reciprocation when saying “I love you” back to Lestat. He learned much later that Louis’s love language was shown through his actions and not his words.
**
“You’ve never been cruel, Louis.”
Oh how Lestat ate his words when Louis sought him out to crush Nicki’s music box before his and Antoinette’s eyes. Lestat had never thought to retrieve it, assuming it would be safe there, never for a second did he think that it would be harmed. Never by Louis. But after everything that had happened, after everything that Lestat had done, did he truly expect to get back into Louis’s good graces WITHOUT a sacrifice having to be made.
Louis had been aware of just how much that music box meant to him, what it signified. He watched the delighted satisfaction on Louis's face when witnessing first hand the anguish it caused Lestat to see the music box crumble.
Lestat launched out of the bed to grab at the broken pieces, sobs so powerful that they caused his whole body to shutter and escape him. Antoinette screamed, demanding that Louis leave or that she would call the authorities.
Louis fell to his knees, cooing at Lestat, pulling his maker into his arms and kissed his golden hair.
“Don’t cry, cher.” he whispered. Louis held Lestat until he was done crying, licking his bloodied tears away. It was the best way Louis could possibly get satisfactory revenge and even with how much it hurt, Lestat could never bring himself to be angry with Louis for it. How could he? He did however know better.
“Come home?” Louis asked softly, ignoring Antoinette’s shouting as he kissed Lestat for the first time in years. Like a fool he had melted and followed Louis back home, he was more subdued but even more fascinated by his fledgling. Of just what he was capable of.
Louis never failed to surprise him.