Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“But what if they don’t like me?”
Armand crouched down to meet his son’s eye level and smiled, gently squeezing his shoulder.
“Daniel, you are a funny, witty, lovely boy. I’m sure you will find friends; there are a lot of kids in your new school.”
Daniel frowned, then rolled his eyes in an overly dramatic manner and grinned.
“You have to say that, you’re my dad!”
“Yes, but that does not mean that it isn’t also the truth!” Armand answered and chuckled, standing up again.
“Come now; Rashid is already waiting in the car.”
Rashid, their driver. Or, their man for many things that needed assistance, really. Having a lot of money had the advantage that Armand didn’t need to stress himself in the mornings about getting Daniel to school—he could pay someone to do that. And Rashid had been working for him for years now; Daniel had known and trusted the guy since he’d been four years old.

It was good for him to have at least the barest amount of stability. Due to Armand’s job as an art dealer, they had to move around quite a bit.

Everything had started about ten years ago when Armand, then barely twenty-five years old, had this fling in Venice while he tried to sell art from a guy named “Marius de Romanus"—okay, he had multiple affairs there, one of them Bianca—a gorgeous woman. With Marius himself, also a gorgeous man. Wasn’t professional? Yes, he knew. He’d been a wild thing back then.
There had also been Marissa, this white American woman who’d stayed in the same hotel as him on holiday. They’d even exchanged numbers, but they never spoke to each other again after she’d gotten on her plane back home to California.
There had been other things that needed his focus and at some point, all thoughts about her had slipped from his mind. That was, until a few years later, living in Paris then, Armand had gotten a phone call from a hospital in Modesto, telling him that his wife had died and he needed to collect their son . That was how he learnt of Daniel’s existence. And of course, he flew over there, and went through the necessary steps to confirm the paternity—thanks to Daniel’s mother, who’d kept Armand’s number in her phone, renamed to ‘Daniel’s dad’.
There’d been grief, anger—why hadn’t she told him about being pregnant? Why did she hide Daniel from him? But at that moment, all that mattered was to take care of this two-year-old boy whose mother had just died. There weren’t any aunts, uncles, or grandparents who knew Daniel; there wasn’t anyone in the world but him, Armand. Holding Daniel in his arms the first time was a shock really—because although the boy shared his mother’s skin tone, the eyes staring back at him looked so much like his own, as did his black curls.
So Armand became a father overnight, and after getting all the legal documents and affairs in order, he went back to Paris with Daniel sleeping in his arms on the plane.
It took some time to get to know the boy and even more to learn to love him. Love didn’t happen magically only because Daniel was his biological son. But looking back now, Armand couldn’t imagine ever not loving his son with all his heart.
When Daniel was four, they moved to Dubai for three years, then to New York, where they’d stayed for two.
When Armand got a job opportunity in San Francisco and realised it was close to where Daniel spent his first two years, he took it.
They’d arrived here three weeks ago during the summer holidays, and today was Daniel’s first day at his new school.

After sending Daniel out of the door, Armand sighed, sweeping his gaze around the kitchen—oh, heavens.
Grabbing Daniel’s lunch box, he ran out of the front door and to the garage, where Rashid was just getting into the car, Daniel already sitting on his hated booster seat in the back.

“He forgot this,” Armand said, breathing heavily from his sprint. He really should smoke less. Easier said than done.

Rashid smiled and stepped towards him.
“You can give it to me, Mr. Ducat.”

Armand nodded and handed it to him, before turning back towards the front door.
His work wouldn’t get any less if he waited longer to start.

The front door slammed shut, and Armand looked up from his laptop, then to his wristwatch—2:23 pm. Sometimes while working, the time really flew by. 

Now it wasn't like he'd sat there all day. He had taken his breaks, all right. But the last two hours had just completely slipped from his sense of time.

Armand heard Daniel stomping through the kitchen and then into the hallway. The thump of probably his backpack hitting the floor. Then hurried steps up the stairs, the opening and closing of his door.

Armand deeply inhaled and closed his laptop. Well, judging by Daniel’s behaviour, maybe his first school day didn’t exactly go as well as Armand had hoped for him.
He gave himself a few minutes to come up with a parenting strategy before he left the room and walked over to Daniel’s door.
He knocked five times—their signal for ‘I won’t be mad if you don’t answer, but if you want to talk, I’m here’.
At first, nothing happened, but then Armand heard the creaking of Daniel’s bed and then him dragging his feet over the floor.
“Yes?” Came his voice through the door, quiet—too quiet for him.
Armand swallowed.
“Hey, Danny. I thought I’d make us both a mug of chocolate milk. You can come to the kitchen in ten minutes to grab it, or stay and drink it with me; talk if you want to.”

“Okay,” Daniel said, and Armand took that as his cue to leave.
Walking down the stairs to the kitchen, he allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smile about his parenting choice.
Encourage your child to talk with you, offer a motivation. Chocolate milk, yes.  But don’t turn it into a bribe or a reward, don’t make your child feel like they have to talk to get it. 

Armand had done his fair share of parenting courses. Some were good, some were trash—but it’s very individual, parenting. God knows he could not pull from his own experience of getting parented—or rather, he did—but more in the way of ‘what not to do to your child’.
That wasn’t to say that he was a perfect father. They’d had their fair share of trouble in the past. In New York, they’d seen a family therapist which ultimately led to Daniel getting referred to a paediatric psychologist who diagnosed him with ADHD.
Well, Armand had gotten a referral too. And a few diagnoses.
Which reminded him that he needed to tell Rashid to compile a list of good psychotherapists in the area. And a list of occupational therapists for Daniel.

Going through the motions of preparing the chocolate milk was soothing—a routine. Something that calmed him and prevented his nerves from taking over. Even after seven years of doing this, such situations, Daniel in distress, still triggered old feelings inside him. He’d been working on emotional regulation with his therapist in New York, but they haven’t gotten to the deep-rooted stuff yet. The grave insecurity stemming from a childhood and youth of abuse. Something he did everything in his power to protect his son from.

Armand could hear the pattern of Daniel’s bare feet touching the kitchen stone floor before he turned around with the two steaming mugs to look at him. He smiled at Daniel, who didn’t smile back but acknowledged him with brief eye contact before he treaded to the table and sat down in one of the already pulled-out chairs.
As Armand approached him and put one mug in front of him, he took a moment to observe his son’s body language. Daniel had his arms on the table and his head laid on top of them, facing away from Armand. A glance and the vibrating of the table—they needed to get the table legs fixed—told Armand that Daniel was wiggling his feet, bouncing his legs.
When Daniel looked up and was about to take the mug, Armand stopped him by gently placing one hand over his as he tried to lift it.
“Not a good idea, wiggling like this with a hot drink in your hand, remember?”
Daniel frowned but nodded. Armand smiled when his son instead reached into his shorts' pocket to take out a fidget cube.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, drinking the chocolate milk. Just as Armand thought about saying or asking something, Daniel put the mug down and busied both hands with the cube, eyes staring at the table.
“I don’t like the new school.”

Armand waited to see if Daniel was about to continue, and when he wasn't, he smiled at Daniel, although he didn’t look up to see it.
“Do you want to tell me about why that is?”
Daniel’s gaze met his for a moment.
“You wouldn’t understand.”

Oh, Armand was sure he would. But Daniel didn’t know about his childhood and would, if at all, only get to know about the more stomachable parts, when he was older.

“You can try. I will listen.”

There was scepticism in his eyes, but then Daniel nodded and took a deep breath. Then his words exploded from his mouth, at a speed that would be difficult for most people to follow. Not for Armand, because he was the same.

“The others in the class looked at me weirdly the whole time. The teacher, Mrs. Hurley, told the class that I was new, and then I had to say hi in front of everyone. I’m sitting alone at a new table because all the seats were already taken. During recess, nobody wanted to play with me. In Social Studies, the teacher asked where I’m from, and a boy said I was lying when I told them where I’ve lived already.”

Daniel finished and quickly grabbed the mug to take another sip, eyes cast down.

“That sounds like a lot of things happened that upset you. It’s all right if you feel sad about it or have other feelings. They are allowed to be there.”

Armand paused for a moment, reaching out to offer his hand to Daniel, who took it after hesitating for a bit.

“I still think that while I believe you that you didn’t feel good there, it’s important to try again. It was only the first day, Daniel. I know you and me both hate the expression, but you need to give it some time. Sometimes things need to be endured before they get better.”

Daniel made a noise that was somewhere between an audible sigh and a chuckle, and then he finished his chocolate milk in one big gulp.

“Can I play outside?” Daniel asked while already jumping from the chair and running to the garden door.
Armand was a bit startled about the sudden mood change—or maybe it wasn’t a mood change; what did he know about nine-year-olds? He certainly didn’t remember being one himself. Aside from... no, not now.

“Do you have homework?”

“On the first day? No! That would be mean!”

Armand chuckled and nodded.
“All right. But stay in the garden, okay?”

Daniel grinned, and just like that, he was out of the door.

Armand leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. Of course, this wouldn’t be easy for Daniel. The move, the new school... again. He really hoped they could stay here now. Armand was tired of moving around, he really wanted to have a home, something long-term he could rely on.
Maybe even a partnership, again.
He’d had some encounters over the years and went on a few dates. But either the people had found him strange, distanced, closed off—or didn’t react so well when he told them about Daniel.
All in due time—but he yearned for some stability. And if he was honest - some space in his life for himself. Life before Daniel had been solely centred around his work. Life with Daniel had been centred around Daniel and his work.
Who was he outside of that? His therapist had asked him the question once, and he didn’t have an answer.
Through the kitchen window, he watched Daniel kicking a ball around—hands in his pockets, not very enthusiastic.
Running one hand through his hair, Armand sighed again.
It seemed like they both needed to get some friends. Sooner rather than later.

Chapter Text

Daniel poked his finger into the sandwich in his lunchbox, staring at it with disinterest. Since the first, rather unfortunate school day, two weeks had passed, and still, Daniel sat alone at lunch and mostly played alone at recess. Nobody was mean to him here, but the other kids in his class all seemed to have their friends, and Daniel found it hard to socialise. It was different here compared to New York. There it had been easier for him, and he wished they could have stayed there. If they had, he wouldn’t have to repeat third grade. But it never was about what Daniel wanted. His dad had told him they had to move here, so they did. Yeah, okay, it was not exactly how it went; he was asked, but could he really have said no?

Like in New York, he was attending a private school. He didn’t know the difference between private and public and didn’t care about it. At the beginning there he had to do a test to enter second grade because for the first grade, he’d been homeschooled in Dubai. It was so strange; all these places where he’d lived, he often got them mixed up in his memories. The time his dad won a plush tiger for him at a fair, he only remembered that he’d been little there. He’d always assumed that it was in Dubai, but then there it had been, always so warm, not autumn and rainy like in his memory. It had to be Paris then, right? Or was it on a vacation they’d taken? England maybe, or Greece? No, too warm there…

Daniel frowned and snapped his lunchbox shut. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat that?”

Daniel looked up to see a girl jumping onto the bench opposite him. She wasn’t in his class, and he hadn’t seen her before. She smiled, but Daniel wasn’t sure what she wanted of him.

“No,” he said, “I’m not hungry.”

“Shame, looks tasty. I’m always hungry, but my daddy Lou says it’s because of the growing.”

Daniel reopened his lunch box.

“You can have it if you want.”

The girl’s eyes widened a bit and she smiled, then reached over the table and took one half of the sandwich.

“Thanks. I’m Claudia.”

Sometimes talking to new people made Daniel nervous. His dad always said it was okay, but he really wanted to make friends, so he forced himself to look at her instead of staring back down at the table.

“I’m Daniel. I'm new here.”

“Oh, I’m new too! It’s my first day. School’s nice,” she mumbled between bites of Daniel’s sandwich.

“In which grade are you?” Daniel asked, his stomach rumbling a bit. Watching Claudia enjoying the food made him want to try it too now, so he grabbed the other half, taking a big bite out of it.

“Third. 3a. I’m the youngest in my class, but the grown-ups said I’ve got the brains for it or something.”

“I’m also in third! But 3b. I’m the oldest, they made me repeat the year because of the move.”

“Oh cool, you’re also new in the city? I like it here. Everything’s big, and so many people. NOLA wasn’t like that.”

“What’s NOLA?”

Claudia rolled her eyes as if Daniel had asked something stupid. He didn’t like that. It was mean. He couldn’t know everything.

“New Orleans, Louisiana.” 

“I knew that,” Daniel lied, “just wanted to test you.”

“Well,” Claudia said, drawing out the e, “whatever. Where’re you from?”

“Uh,” Daniel said, hating that question. Where was he from? His dad said he was born in Modesto, but he couldn’t really remember his life before Paris. There were maybe two images in his head, but they were blurry.

Was he from Paris then? Dubai? New York?

“We moved around a lot. I’ve lived on three continents!”

Claudia gasped and shook her head. Will it be like with the others, that they don’t believe Daniel?

“Woah! That’s so cool. One of my dads is from France, but we’ve never gone there.”

Daniel kicked his feet against the ground while swallowing down the rest of the sandwich.

“My quads fwom where woo!”

“What?”

Daniel finished chewing and then jumped up.

“My dad’s from there too! I’m bored. Wanna play something?”

“Yeah,” Claudia said and swung her legs over the bench. “Let’s play hide and seek!”

It wasn’t Daniel’s favourite game, but it was the first time another kid had asked to play with him, so he took the chance.

“Okay.”

***

“Daddy Lou! Daddy Les!”

Claudia closed the door behind her, reminding herself just in time not to smash it shut.
But she wasn’t known to be patient—and she needed to tell her dads all about her first day at school!
So, her bag landed just where she stood, next to the front door, and then she ran down the hallway, into the living room—but her parents were nowhere to be seen.
“Daddy Lou?”
Claudia walked into the kitchen and then took a peek outside into the garden before skipping back all the way to the entrance, shouting up the stairs, or more like singing-chanting.

“Hello, I’m home!”

No response, but then—a noise from her parent’s bedroom. Sounded like laughter.
Smiling, she jumped up the steps and rounded the corner until she stood in front of the door.

“Are you in here?”

She leaned her ear against the door as she heard someone speaking. Was that Daddy Les, using a bad word?

“One moment, Claudia. I’ll be there in a minute!” She could then hear the voice of her Daddy Lou coming through the wood.

Claudia frowned but stepped back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

She thought it just wasn’t fair that while she was in school, her daddies just slept all afternoon. Because often when she came home, dropped off at the front door by Charlie, the driver, she had to wait for them to get out of bed. And when they did, they always looked like they’d taken a run around the house, all sweaty. Maybe they had nightmares? She remembered having them a few times and then waking up like this. Could you have a nightmare when sleeping during the day? Or was it a day-mare then?

The door finally opened, and out came Daddy Lou, in his pyjama pants and one of his favourite bathrobes.
“Hello, sunshine!”

“Daddy Lou!” Claudia said, throwing herself forward into his arms, but she quickly pulled away again.

“Eeeew, you’re sweaty!”

Her dad chuckled and ran one hand through her hair, pushing some loose curls back.

“Yeah. Why don’t you go to your room and play for a bit, and in twenty minutes we’ll join you, and then you can tell us all about your day!”

Claudia tilted her head and then quickly tried to get a glance inside the bedroom, but Daddy Lou pulled the door shut behind him.

“Lestat’s still… sleeping. I need to wake him up. Go on, you can wait a little longer, I’m sure. You’re a big girl now, third grade… wow!”

Claudia laughed and turned around to run into her room, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“Did you put your bag away?”

She stopped and sighed, then shook her head.

“No, I’ll get it. But hurry up, I have so much to tell! I made a new friend!”

“Already? Good news, princess. I’m excited to hear more in a bit.”

She smiled at him and made her way down her stairs. When she’d grabbed her bag and climbed back up, she could swear she heard more laughter coming from the bedroom—but her dads were just funny like that.

Not wasting another thought about that, she moved to her room, thinking of what she could play with until her dads weren’t so sleepy anymore.

Chapter Text

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder with each agonising second that passed. Waiting had never been Armand’s favourite activity and waiting in unfamiliar environments left him with sweaty hands and the urge to crack his neck to the side every other minute. At least there wasn’t anyone here to observe him, he was sure that would have made it practically unbearable. 

Armand had found this therapist's office after just a week of occasional research and promptly made an appointment. It all sounded good in theory - someone who specialised in trauma treatment as well as family- and relationship counselling.
But sitting here now, in the middle of the week, staring at either the clock or the door of the therapy room itself, made all the doubts rush back into his mind. What if the therapist couldn’t help him? What if she judged him for his life choices, for his past, and his worst fear - what if she thought him not good enough at being a dad?

As Armand felt his heartrate starting to rise, he closed his eyes. Shutting of a sense helped sometimes in situations like this, as well as the slow and deep breaths he proceeded to take.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, trying to regulate himself, but it had to be for a while - because suddenly the sound of a door opening and voices ripped him from his relaxation attempt.

“And remember, what we said about impulse control. See you next week!”
From behind the opened door the voice of the supposed therapist came through, just before two men stepped out of the door, hand in hand, looking like a couple.
So she had to be… queer friendly?
The men couldn’t have looked any different - one was white, blonde and tall, with long hair that fell almost gracefully over his shoulders. His …partner? Probably. Well, his partner was slightly shorter, black, and had shortened coils that looked just perfectly cared for. Not that Armand would claim to have knowledge about the treatment of Black hair - but the way the man had it styled, was just handsome.
When they were fully out of the door, they turned and nodded at Armand, with a polite smile - which made him dart his eyes away out of reflex. He started to fiddle with his fingers, embarrassed to have been caught staring at the pair.
They said their goodbyes and before Armand could stop himself, his eyes followed them - a mistake it turned out, because after being half out of the door, the blonde one turned around and gave Armand another smile, with an expression in his eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

“You must be my 11 am appointment!”
As the therapist spoke, Armand’s head whipped around so fast that his vision got blurry for a second.
The front door fell shut, but this time, Armand managed to pull himself together and stop his body from jolting.
He put on a polite smile and stood up.
“Yes. Hello. I am Armand Ducat.”
“Ah, welcome Mr. Ducat. My name is Mrs. Mabel Field, nice to meet you.”
With a smile, she motioned to the room she just came out of.
“Please come inside and choose a seat, I will be with you shortly. You’re a bit early and even therapists sometimes need bathroom breaks.”
Armand felt his heart start to beat faster again - had it been impolite to come early? He almost felt late, by his standards.
“Apologies” he muttered and grabbed his bag from the chair next to him, starting to rush towards the room.
Behind him, Mrs. Field shouted a quick “Don’t worry, it’s alright!” before rushing towards the end of the hallway.
That reassured him somewhat, so he nodded and proceeded through the open door into the room.It looked nice - light grey walls, plants scattered about, bookcases, two wide windows that were currently half shielded with blinds.
In the middle was a light blue, soft looking carpet that looked inviting - but no, he wasn’t at home here. Armand’s eyes darted between the three armchairs positioned around the carpet in a sort of triangle.

“Have you chosen a seat yet?”

Armand whirled around to see Mrs. Field entering the room.

She was already back? How long had he just stood there, looking around?

“No,” he admitted, “I have… sometimes, it takes me a while.”

She smiled and closed the door - Armand took the time to quickly sit down on one of the chairs, facing the door. He couldn't stand it to not be able to see if… there was no rational end to that sentence, was it?

He silently observed as the therapist chose the seat opposite to him, a notebook and pen in one hand.

He hadn't really taken the time to study her before - now Armand could see that she seemed to be in her forties, wearing big,. rectangular glasses and her light brown hair braided in a ponytail that barely touched the cardigan she wore over her shoulders.

Judging by her appearance, she seemed like a nice person - but Armand, of all people, knew also how dangerous it could be, to judge a book by its cover.

“So, Mr. Ducat , in your mail you mentioned that you've already been in therapy before, so you are not unfamiliar with how such sessions go about- but I’d still like to give you a rundown of how I work. After that, I have a list of questions to ask you - first session protocols, essentially. After that, you’ll have time to ask me questions in return - and before ending the session, if you then want to, we'll talk about making the next appointment. Are these proceedings alright with you?”

"Yes, that is all right with me."

 "Great! So, the first thing that I want to explain is..."

 Armand found it surprisingly easy to listen to Mrs. Field. It was not only what she said, but also how she talked - the tone of her voice, her speech pattern. Those details could make a drastic difference in how he was able to focus on a conversation. 

Therapy sessions would be once a week- but if there was a cause for it, he could also use an app developed for digital communication in between or as an alternative for coming into the office. When she explained that it was not for emergencies, Armand smiled - he couldn't allow himself to have an emergency anyway. Daniel needed him. 

In the first sessions they'd go through his biography - something he dreaded already - before delving into his current problems and determining his goals. When she mentioned that she'd likely want to go down another diagnostic route, Armand tensed. Another diagnosis? Didn't he have quite enough? CPTSD, depression which was currently, thankfully, in remission - and in his past, he'd struggled with orthorexia, as well as alcohol abuse - the latter thankfully never to the point of developing an addiction. What more could there be?

 Well, he had to wait until the next session to find out more about it. But there was one thing that…

 "The two men," Armand began, when the time had come to ask his questions, "I... it seems you are queer-friendly?" 

The therapist smiled and nodded, fixing her eyes on Armand. He broke eye contact. "Yes. All identities and sexualities are quite welcome in my office." 

She paused and Armand stared at the potted plant next to the door. 

"And I make space for talking about it, as a queer person myself I know how important it can be to feel safe to be fully... yourself." 

Armand's eyes darted to hers briefly, and he smiled, before averting his gaze.

"Indeed it is... important. You are welcome to share as little or as much as you want to."

 "I don't struggle with my sexual or romantic orientation. Not in the sense that -" He stopped himself, and swallowed his words. He was not quite ready to delve into these aspects.

 "Okay. You can talk to me about it, when you feel like it. This is a pressure free zone - what a stereotypical thing to say, is it not?"

 She laughed and Armand didn't, but joined with a small smile. He had the growing sensation that he'd get along with her well enough. …

 After Armand stepped out of the office, he checked his phone - and gasped, when he saw three missed calls from Daniel's school. He rushed back to his car as quickly and safely as he could, dialling before he was even fully seated, the door half open.

 "Hope Elementary, you’ve reached the secretary, what can I do for you?”

 "Hello, this is Mr. Ducat, Daniel's dad, you tried to call me and I am terribly sorry for not answering, I was on an appointment. Is my son all right?"

 "Mr. Ducat, good to hear back from you. There has been an incident and-"

 "Is my son well?"

 "He has some scrapes and a bruise or two, but there is no need to worry. We ask you however to come to the school as soon as you are able to and collect him - as well as talk with the principal. Mr. Ducat , your son was involved in a fight with some other children."

 "Daniel? In a fight? He doesn't -"

 "Please come and let us talk in person about this."

Armand let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes, clutching the phone tight with the other.

“Okay. Fine. I will be there in fifteen minutes. If traffic lets me. Goodbye.”

Without waiting for a response, he quit the call and started up the car.
The whole drive he kept his eyes fixed on the road straight ahead, his mind racing through a multitude of scenarios about what could’ve happened.
It wasn’t like Daniel to just randomly get into fights. Sure, in the first years after Armand got custody, there had been behavior like throwing shovels or sand on the playground, or some playing that got too rough and ended in crying and angry children that had to get separated by their parents. But nothing like that has happened in recent years. Of course Daniel still had social struggles, with his impulsivity coming between him and other children, arguments - but not violence like that. There had to be something more to it, and Armand would find out what.

Seven Minutes later Armand walked through the doors of the school, heading towards the secretary’s office with wide steps. It was near the end of a lesson so the hallway was empty, its colourfully painted walls giving the illusion of more space to it than there really was.
When he rounded the corner and approached the door, it flew open and his son came running towards him.

“Dad!”
Armand quickly glanced up and down Daniel’s body, searching for any kind of more serious injury - but the secretary had been right. Aside from band-aids on his elbow and knee, he could only see a tiny bruise on his upper arm, peeking out from under his T-shirt sleeve.
“Hello, Danny,” Armand said and bent down to give his son a hug, which he really seemed to need, by the way he was clinging to him.
“Can we go home? It’s not like… the other kid started it! He said - I - and then-”
“Daniel, slow down please - take a deep breath.”
Thankfully, Daniel listened - and inhaled through his mouth, while Armand gently rubbed Daniel’s back.
After a few seconds, Armand then held his index finger in front of Daniel’s mouth, who then proceeded to exhale like he was blowing out a birthday candle. After practicing that for a few months, that tactic now worked most of the time. 

“Okay. Try again?”
“We were playing and then this boy made fun of Claudia and he wouldn’t stop so she hit him to get him to stop but then he hit back and I wanted to help her so I shoved him but he grabbed me and we both fell and that’s when I hurt my elbow and knee.”

Armand listed carefully, his eyes totally focused on Daniel’s face.
“And the bruise?”
“He got on top of me and punched my arm.”

Okay that… wasn’t exactly a good situation, but Armand was relieved that he’d been right with the fact that his son didn’t just randomly punch other children now. 

“Thank you for telling me what happened. We will talk later about this, because you know that violence is only okay for defending yourself, and as a last resort.”
Yes. Armand wasn’t gonna tell his kid that violence was “bad in general” and then send him out into a world that didn’t really care about such virtues. A world, that was dangerous, especially to children. If it came down to it, Armand hoped that Daniel could and would fight his way out of dire situations, if he had to. He absolutely hoped that it would never come to that. 

“Yeah but I was only helping to defend Claudia.”
“Daniel, later we can-”
Armand got interrupted by a woman appearing in the doorway, waving at him.
“Ah, Mr. Ducat. Please come in. I’m Miss Jennings, and I work as the school counsellor.”
Ah yes, the counsellor - one reason of many, why Armand had enrolled Daniel in this particular school.
She turned towards Daniel.
“You and Claudia should wait outside, in the hallway. You can start with your homework, or play silently, but no running around.”
“Okay,” Daniel said, and before Armand could react,  a girl came running out of the office - was this Claudia? - grabbed Daniel, and pulled him towards the benches, whispering something in his ear.
But where was the kid that his son had told him about?

As Armand would learn ten minutes later, while talking with the principal, the counsellor and the other children’s caregivers, the boy in question was getting treatment at the hospital for a broken finger.

After a few initial words, things had gotten rather…heated, in the office.

“Your son said what about my niece?”

Armand crossed his legs and quietly observed the discussion between a woman with shoulder length braids and huge sunglasses pushed up on her forehead, who’d introduced herself as Claudia’s aunt, and another man, who was busy playing with the button of his shirt’s sleeve.

“It was harmless fun, children do that. Santiago is only -”

“Oh damn no, harmless fun my ass. Saying that Claudia’s hair looks like Mickey Mouse’s ears isn’t kid’s teasing, that’s racism. And our girl was pretty damn right to teach your son a lesson about that -”

“Okay, I think we should all calm down now - “ Mr. Reese, the principal, tried, but was interrupted.
“I will calm down, when this school has managed to take the topic of racism seriously. Isn’t this supposed to be an all accepting and welcoming atmosphere or something, in your motto? That’s why my brother enrolled her here.”

Mr. Reese leaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on his table, supporting his chin with his hands.
“You are right, Mrs. Frenier. But solving verbal harassment with physical violence is something we also don’t tolerate here. I am sure, Santiago’s parents will have a talk with their son about discrimination -”
“Come on, isn’t this-” The man tried, but the principal just continued over him.
“- if they want to keep him being a student at this school.”
Santiago’s dad blinked a few times - before nodding, his posture suggesting that he was intimidated - to the pleasure of Claudia’s aunt and Armand’s alike.

“Mr. Ducat, regarding Daniel…”

Outside, Daniel sat on one of the chairs, his arms crossed, dangling his feet quickly forwards and backwards.
“It’s just unfair. He was mean to you and now we’re getting into trouble.”
“Is your father very strict?” Claudia asked, playing with the band aid across the back of her hand.
“No,” Daniel answered, “his rules are okay most of the time. He never yells at me. Did that a few years ago, but now we just talk. The woman inside, is she your mom?”
Claudia giggled, before shaking her head,making the few loose coils she had, bounce.
“No, that’s Auntie Grace. Daddy Lou’s sister. My dads work so she’s here to pick me up.”
“Ah,” Daniel said, not sure what to say to that.
“Did we really break Santiago’s finger?”
Daniel never wanted to hurt anyone- to be honest with himself, he also hadn’t really thought it through. He’d seen Claudia needing help, so he helped. He wasn’t so sure anymore that it had been the right thing to do, though.
Claudia shrugged.
“Don’t know. He’s just awful. Miss Jennings probably wants to make us talk with him tomorrow. Wish I could stay home.”
Her voice became more quiet near the end of the sentence, and Daniel looked up and towards her.
“Are you sad?”
Claudia nodded, then shook her head quickly.
“Maybe. Don’t know. Lately my dads haven’t had time to play with me anymore. On the weekends sometimes, but otherwise, not. Got a bit better with Auntie visiting . But she’s gonna drive back to NOLA on Friday. I miss her already. And my cousins.”
“Do you have many cousins?”
Daniel knew what cousins were, in theory, but having none of his own, he wasn’t so sure how close one would be to them. 
“Three. I know that Daddy Les also has brothers but he doesn’t talk with them, don’t know if they have children. What about you?”
Oh. Daniel didn’t really want to think about the history of his family and where he came from.
“No. Just me and dad. And Rashid. Did I tell you about him? He’s soooo cool, sometimes I help him to wash the car, and ....”



After thirty minutes, Armand walked out of the school, holding Daniel’s hand.
They didn’t talk much, both of them exhausted although it wasn’t even 2 pm yet.
“Dad?”
“Mhm?”
“Can we have lunch before talking?”
Armand nodded - yes, something to eat sounded like the best thing to help them both think more clearly. They arrived at the car, and Armand opened the door to the backseat.
“Get in,” he mumbled, finding it difficult to form words.
The serious talk with the principal and the counsellor about Daniel’s behaviour still rang in his ears - but he was also thinking about Claudia, Daniel’s friend about whom his son had talked constantly those last weeks. She didn’t seem to have it too easy either. Maybe he should offer Daniel that he could invite the girl for them to play together.
Despite Daniel’s understanding of “helping a friend” having gone a bit wayward, he was proud of his son for recognising that Santiago’s words weren’t okay, and happy that he had made a true friend. Maybe for the first time in years.

And although they still had a lot to talk about in the afternoon, and there was work waiting for him, Armand drove home with a smile on his lips, with Daniel noddling off in the backseat. 

Chapter Text

“We have arrived, Miss Claudia.”

As Sam, one of her parents' employees, stopped the car, Claudia pressed her nose against the glass of the darkened car windows, to take a look at Daniel’s house.

It was Friday afternoon, two days after she'd punched Santiago - and thankfully, he hadn't been back to school yet, so the talk between them and the counsellor would have to wait until after the weekend.

The drive home from school that day hadn't been all too pleasant - because despite Auntie Grace claiming loudly how well she'd done to defend herself inside the office, she’d then scolded Claudia in the car, while Sam was driving them home.

Claudia didn't get it - it was confusing when adults said one thing but then expected the other.

When her dads learned about what she'd done, things didn't go exactly smoothly. Daddy Lou had looked so disappointed, while Daddy Les switched between laughing and shouting at her. They didn't understand her - sometimes she thought that nobody did.

Aside from Daniel.

Daniel!

Claudia grabbed her backpack from the middle seat and then opened the car door, before hopping from her kiddie seat. She hated the thing and couldn't wait until she would be tall enough to get rid of it.

When she studied the house, her jaw fell open. She'd never seen such a strange house. Must have been custom built? Was that the term? She wasn't sure. 

It had modern looking wood on the first story walls, and gray paint on the second story. There were little roofs everywhere and even a ..a … thing that looked like a hat made out of glass,on one part of the building. One part of the roof seemed to have mini walls around it - was it a roof terrace? She thought it looked like the top of a castle tower.

At her home they also had a roof terrace but it was smaller. Their house was older, too. Her parents liked that old stuff - she, not so much. Although she did like her room, a lot. 

“Claudia!”

Daniels voice didn't come from the front door as she'd thought. She darted her eyes to a pathway next to the garage, where Daniel came running down, waving his hands excitedly.

“Hi!” She yelled and started to run towards him, only to be stopped by Sam stepping into her path.

“Miss Claudia, I shall remind you, that you are supposed to do your homework here - that this is part of “the deal”. I will collect you at seven. Have fun.”

When another man came out of the front door and nodded at Sam, he got back in the car and drove away.

Claudia squinted her eyes at the man. Was that Daniel's dad? She had seen him only one time, on Wednesday… but, no, he looked different. His hair was short and he wore a brown-ish …was it a dress? Something long, that she didn't recognise.

Hm. Maybe he was…ah, yes!

“Hello Mr. Rashid,” she said politely, as the man approached her.

“Just Rashid is fine. If you'd like, I can bring your backpack inside so you can play with Daniel in the garden. Thirty minutes, then he's supposed to do his homework.”

She nodded and handed her backpack to him, before turning and running towards Daniel, who stood next to the garage, a soccer balll in his hand.

“Do you play soccer?” He asked and she almost laughed because what funny question was this? Of course she did! Didn't every child - 

Oh, maybe not? Maybe only those with at least one European parent. Didn't matter why. She smiled at him, and hopped across the paved path with him to the door leading to, she guessed, said garden.

“Yeah! Do you have a goal frame?”

“No,” he said, “but we can improvise. I always use the trash gate.”

Once in the garden,he pointed towards the other end, where trashcans stood inside what looked like a little house.

At her home they just had a cage for the bins, although she didn't understand why trash needed to be protected from thieves when it would be thrown away anyway.

“Okay, but you'll be goalkeeper first!”

Playing soccer with Daniel was fun.

She scored five goals, but when it was her turn to guard the trash house, it turned out that she was better at kicking the ball, than keeping it. Daniel scored nine goals.

Just as Daniel was about to aim again, his wristwatch suddenly began to ring - an alarm?

“Need to do homework now,” he said, rolling his eyes. Claudia frowned - they were having so much fun! And, Armand's Dad wasn't here apparently, so why did he want to stick to the rule? Claudia wouldn't do that. Sure, she was supposed to do her homework before 7 pm, so she wouldn't get in trouble - but who cared whether it had to be now, or in an hour?

“Come ooooon, don't be boring. Let's play another round.”

Daniel kinda froze, making Claudia giggle for a bit - until she noticed the Daniel had a weird expression. 

“What's wrong?”

Daniel let out the longest sigh, then crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“When the alarm rings, it's homework time.”

“Yeah but who's gonna make you do them?”

“Nobody. I’ll just start. I have the rule with dad that I will try for thirty minutes and if I’m not finished then, I can stop and he’ll help me in the evening. Or because today is Friday, on Sunday evening.”

Thirty minutes? Claudia sometimes took only ten minutes, and sometimes two hours, when she was very distracted. Her dads helped her to study for tests but homework she had to do herself. 

“Fine,” she said with drawing out the i, “then let's do them. But no more than half an hour!”

Daniel nodded and dropped the ball, before both children went up the step and through the kitchen door.

Due to being in different classes (she was still trying to convince her dads that she could switch to Daniel's class), Claudia had different homework than him. They sat at the kitchen table, with their notebooks and pencils out, and why Daniel stared as his sheet of math tasks, Claudia finished colouring in a map of west coast states, after she'd marked the capitals.

She liked to learn about geography and history…as well as English, maths, science… Claudia liked every subject. Except for French. She'd have preferred learning Spanish because she got enough French at home, with Daddy Les trying without success to get her to speak it more.

Daniel got Spanish, and it sounded fun every time she heard him talk about it. His French didn't reach native level, he could only say a few things, but his pronunciation was good, as far as she could determine.

Thinking about him, she looked up only to see Daniel chewing on his pencil, staring frustrated at his homework.

“What is it?” Claudia asked, kneeling up on her chair to lean over the table.

“This task…. Look.”

He pointed at the bottom of the sheet, and Claudia begam to read it out loud.

“Detective Mouse is trying to solve the mystery of the stolen cheese. He found a trail of cheese crumbs and he already found six, evenly spaced over the last two feet. How many will he have found in two more feet?”

She looked up at Daniel, furrowing her brows.

“Why do you have trouble with this? The answer’s twelve!”

“But … it doesn't make sense! We can't see into the future! It could be any number!”

Daniel shook his head and Claudia didn't know whether to stare at him confused, or laugh.

“No but look: He found six crumbs in two feet. So there's three in one. Two feet plus two feet is four feet, so it's three crumbs times four and that's twelve!”

Daniel stared at her bewildered, then shrugged.

“I know what three times four is! I’m not a baby! But still, why do we assume that there's the same amount in front of him than he'd already found? Why should the crumbs even fall evenly from the cheese and why so many? I don't get it!”

“But it's not about that! It's about calculation!”

She'd gotten louder now, getting annoyed with how Daniel didn't seem to understand the point. And he even was a year older than her so he should have no problems with that. 

“It doesn't -”

“Okay, what's happening here?”

Daniel stopped and he and Claudia looked to the kitchen entrance, where Rashid just stepped through from the hallway.

“I don't think yelling and doing your homework goes well together. What's the problem?”

“She doesn't understand why this task doesn't make sense!” Daniel said, jumping from his chair with the sheet in hand, showing it to Rashid.

“Well, he doesn't understand why it's easy.” Claudia said, pouting and then putting her chin onto her folded arms on.the table.

“I see,” Rashid said, and Claudia turned her head so she could observe what was going on.

“Sometimes we do things in different ways. Solve problems in different ways.” Rashid continued, ruffling through Daniel hair in a way that made Claudia chuckle a bit.

“And it's not like I can't calculate! I can! But the way they wrote it isn't specific enough!”

Rashid hummed and Claudia got bored of the argument,so she sat up again, fixing Daniel with sparkling eyes.

“Do you have more homework or are you done?”

Daniel ran back to the table with the paper and quickly scrabbled the number twelve on the answer field.

“Done! We can go play now. I want to show you my dinosaurs, I have a lot of them! Triceratop, Tyrannosaurus Rex, Brachiosaurus, …”

An hour later, they were still in Daniel's room, having moved on from dinosaurs and playing with the play kitchen, and were engaged in a game of UNO. 

“No, you can’t put a plus four on a plus two, that’s against the rules!” Claudia informed Daniel, who rolled his eyes but took the card back onto his hand, to then draw two cards from the deck.

A knock on the door made both kids turn their heads up.

“Yes!” Daniel said, and when the door opened, Claudia saw Daniel’s dad half leaning against the doorframe, smiling at them.

“Hello. Who’s winning?” He asked, pointing at the cards.

“Me!” Claudia said and beamed up at him and then looked back at Daniel, who sprung to his feet to run towards his dad.

“Hug?” He asked and his dad nodded, bowing down to wrap his arms around him.

It looked nice. Claudia often got hugs from both her dads, although Daddy Lou was the one who gave them out more often.

After a moment, Daniel wiggled out from his father's arms and ran back to continue the game. Claudia looked at her hand and smiled at the plus fours and wish cards she had - yeah, she was definetly winning that round.

“I’m starting to prepare dinner now - Claudia, one the phone your dad said that it's okay if you eat with us?”

Claudia nodded without looking up, too focused on the cards.

“All right. I’ll call you when it's ready, have fun you two.”

As Daniel's dad left the room, Claudia thought that he was really nice - and she wondered, what meal he was gonna cook.

After closing the door of Daniel's room, Armand headed through the hallway and down the stairs with a smile on his lips. It pleased him greatly, that Daniel had found this friend.

While walking to the kitchen Armand thought back to the brief phone conversation he’d had with one of Claudia’s dads. 

It had been on Wednesday evening - Daniel was already in bed, when his phone rang.

“Armand Ducat, good evening?”

“Good evening, Lestat de Lioncourt speaking - Claudia’s father. I got your number from Grace - I believe our children were involved in some kind of… rabble, non? You see, my husband and I had to work late so we have only heard of the whole ordeal just now. You are the father of Daniel, I assume?”

“Yes, I am. Is Grace your sister?”

“Oh, no. She is my, distant one must say, sister in law. We don’t get along too well. But that shouldn’t concern you. Now, onto the affairs with the school - No, Claudia, Daddy Les is busy now, and you should be asleep! Go to your room, little Miss. Now! - Pardon. You know how it is, children and all….”

“...and all”, Armand repeated, walking onto the second story balcony for some fresh air. The day had been hard, and all he wanted to do, was sleep - but first he needed to get this phone call over with.

“It seems your son does take great pride in helping his friends in need.”

“So you condone Claudia’s behaviour?”

“It is… Well, if you must know, partly, yes. One must know how to defend themselves in such a harsh world.”

Armand couldn’t disagree on that part.

“Yes, but do you not think that getting physically that quickly might be a problem? To be honest, I am quite worried about Daniel picking up such habits.”

“So you don’t want our children to be friends? What a shame, they get along so well, they-”

“No, to the opposite. I did not mean to imply that. I am happy that Daniel finally found someone he seems to connect with. He always talks about your daughter. I wanted to ask you, if you would be alright with Daniel inviting her to our house? Maybe on Friday?”

For half a minute the line went silent - but just as Armand was about to check if he’d accidentally ended the call, the voice of his conversation partner came back.

“It would be good for her, to be with a friend. I assume that you also live near the school’s neighbourhood?”

“Yes, I will send you the address. I am not at home then, but Rashid is.”

“And this Rashid… is he your partner?”

“Heavens no, he is my assistant. Also our driver, and Daniel’s babysitter - live in help, really. Part of the family by now. But… how did you come about asking this question?”

“Oh, Claudia might have mentioned something about Daniel’s dad having dated men and women.”

Armand blinked a few times, and didn’t know whether to be relieved that this topic was out in the open, or anxious, because if there was one thing he didn’t like, it was to be asked about his relationships - or lack there of.

“Yes - she is correct. Daniel must have told her so much. Are you - “

“If you are about to ask me, if I have a problem with my kid being in a queer man’s home, I’ll probably spit out the wine I’m drinking while laughing. Don’t.”

“I was not going to do that. Are you really drinking - it does not matter. So, what I wanted to ask is, if you would be all right with sending her over by three, on Friday? She can eat dinner with us, and you could then collect her at… seven? I will be home at five, and make the meal.”

“That sounds agreeable, yes. I will send our driver to bring her and collect her. And about the … incident, at school - I think my husband will call you about that, he is usually more engaged with Claudia’s school affairs. My focus with her lies somewhere else.”

“Okay.” Armand said, not knowing what else to say about that. 

“Have a nice evening, Armand.” 

The way he pronounced his name sent shivers down Armand’s spine - and he tried to shake it off immediately, because that was just such an inappropriate thing to even think! 

“You too. Goodbye.”

“Au revoir.”

Armand opened a cupboard and took out a cutting board, still a bit lost in memory of the phone call. The conversation had been… strange, but also strangely exciting. Maybe it was the fact that, should the friendship between Daniel and Claudia persist, he was finally going to have queer acquaintances - maybe friends - who he could spend time with. Between his work and raising Daniel, there just was no time for making an effort to find social connection. Sure, Rashid was always around him - and he hadn’t been lying when he said, that Rashid was like family to him. But yes - he was also Armand’s employee. And who knew for how long that would last? A few years ago he’d started online college courses in psychology and history - soon he would switch to a physical college, to focus fully on graduating. 

Armand supported that, of course. But it also meant, Rashid would have to give up his position, move away, and Armand would have to deal with getting Daniel through the loss and finding new employees. He couldn’t imagine having another live-in one - it would feel too strange. 

With a sigh, Armand placed the board on the nearest counter, and started collecting everything else he needed. 

It was Pasta-Friday - another reason, he proposed this day for the children’s playdate. Which kid didn’t like pasta?

While he was preparing the meal, Armand could hear continuous giggles and laughs coming from upstairs - a sound which acted as a nice backdrop for the sound of him chopping up tomatoes.

Dinner was pretty uneventful. Tired from playing all afternoon, Daniel and Claudia, although not quietly, ate without causing havoc on and around the table. More often than not with Daniel that wasn’t the case. But Armand was thankful about every evening where he didn’t need to clean the mess his son was leaving behind. He couldn’t even begin to imagine, what Rashid had to put up with when Daniel was homeschooled back in Dubai. 

It was nice to hear Claudia talk about her parents, about what she liked. She seemed like a great kid and already a great friend for Daniel.

Time flew by, and while Daniel and Claudia were busy loading the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. Armand looked at his wristwatch - it was exactly seven ‘o clock, to the second.

He put on a smile and walked down the hallway to the front door. 

“Coming!” He yelled, not keen on enduring another ring of the bell. 

Through the milky glass window in the door Armand recognised a silhouette - had to be their driver. He exhaled, put on a polite smile and opened the door.

“Good evening, I suppose you are the driver sent to collect Claudia, they have just finished-”

“Hi,” the man interrupted, which made Armand look at his face - the world stopped for a second.

Something about his face felt familiar… he couldn’t quite place it, but he knew he had seen the man. Recently. But where?

Shaking of the momentary confusion threatening to set in, Armand blinked a few times and noticed the outstretched hand entering his field of vision. He took it, reciprocated the handshake.

“I’m Louis de Pointe du Lac. Claudia’s father. Sent our driver, Sam, home early. Thought it would be nice to see for myself where my kid spent the afternoon. You have a nice house, love the skylight.”

He pointed to the rounded glass dome between the second story roofs, that, by day, let much sunlight into the hallway from above. 

“Thank you,” Armand mumbled, still trying to figure out where he’d seen this man before.

His hand felt soft, nice even - and suddenly Armand became hyper aware of just that and pulled his hand back quickly as if he burned himself.

“Uhm…may I come in?” 

Louis smiled and Armand smiled back, quickly nodding and moving to the side, gesturing for him to enter.

“Of course. The children are in the kitchen, we just finished dinner. Claudia is a very friendly girl.”

Louis raised an eyebrow and let out a slight chuckle.

“Yeah? Well, ‘tis good then. Glad she didn’t give you trouble - but you know how it is, with children that age.”

Armand just nodded, distracted by how Louis swiftly stepped into the hallway, his jacket accentuating the movement of his hips - and suddenly it hit armand with the weight of a freight train. 

The therapist office, on Wednesday. 

“We…met,” Armand said and Louis stopped, turning around to fix Armand with an unreadable stare while Armand closed the door without looking at it.

Come on now, time to play it cool.

“Oh, right - yeah, this… my husband and me just found her, after moving here.”

Armand was glad for the opportunity to change the topic. He wasn’t good at smalltalk, but discussing mental health with the handsome stranger who was his son’s best friend’s dad didn’t seem like the right move either.

“Daniel mentioned that you have previously lived in New Orleans - a beautiful city. At least what I have seen of it online - I did not have the opportunity to visit.”

Louis’ face morphed into a fond smile.

“My hometown, actually. Lestat immigrated from France in his early twenties - trying his chances on Broadway. Didn’t have success immediately so he became a travelling musician for a while, and when he was doing a jazz number in NOLA, that’s how we met. Got together, married, adopted Claudia - and now we’re here. Speaking of Claudia - where’s the kitchen?”

“Oh,” Armand mumbled, still trying to process the information, “please, follow me.”

As he headed down the hallway it felt like Louis’ eyes burned holes in his back - and it was, at the same time, an unpleasant sensation but also strangely…exciting. 

It also made him weirdly self conscious about the way he was walking.

As they arrived at the kitchen, the children were playing some type of hand clapping game - but as Armand and Louis walked through the door, Claudia’s face lit up and she ran towards her father, arms outstretched. 

Louis caught Claudia with ease, pulling her into a hug, before pulling back to wipe some coils out of her face.

“Had fun today, Claw?”

“Yes!” She nodded eagerly and smiled, while glancing at Daniel.

“He showed me his comics and we played games, I won a lot of times, and we even got hot chocolate with dinner - with whipped cream!”

Louis raised an eyebrow and looked at Armand with an amused smirk.

“Spoiling my child already?”

Armand shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. “She asked nicely.”

Louis huffed but then smiled, before turning back to Claudia.

“We should head home, before Lestat thinks we’re having too much fun without him, hm?”

Claudia giggled and ran to Daniel to give him a hug - Daniel, who wasn’t used to such open displays of affection outside of his family was a bit startled, but promptly returned the hug.

“See you on Monday, Daniel!”

“Yeah!” Daniel answered, and then Claudia was already through the kitchen door.

“Claudia, your backpack!” Louis yelled after her, and when she didn’t return, just shrugged and took the bag himself, that hang by the chair still.

While Daniel followed Claudia, Louis hesitated before leaving the room.

“Thanks for having her over. And… I’m sorry for the thing at school, on Wednesday. But this… It would be nice to do this again sometime.”

Louis offered his hand again and Armand took it quickly - Louis’ palm was still soft, still warm, still…distracting. Their hands lingered for just a bit longer than necessary - just enough to gain Armand’s attention, quickening his heartbeat. He couldn’t say yet with what. 

But just as quickly at this happened, it was over.

“Of course, yes. Have a safe drive home.”

Louis nodded, and with a last glance at Armand, he left the room. 

Armand stood still, listening to the sound of the footsteps leading through the hallway, and then the door opening and closing. 

Without really meaning too, he walked out of the kitchen, to the door, and watched the two silhouettes leave the pathway. 

Then, almost absentmindedly, he touched his hand - ghost of the handshake still lingering.

He exhaled sharply.

This was just ridiculous.

And yet.

When he turned around towards the kitchen to clean up, the restless feeling in his chest didn’t quite fade.

Chapter Text

Tuesday Morning

“Daniel, it is difficult to have this conversation when you don’t talk to us. I know that this can be scary or hard, but you must participate.”

Daniel stared at the ground, squeezing his fingers against each other, like he'd done for the past ten minutes.
It was Tuesday, Santiago was back at school, and the school’s counsellor had pulled him, Claudia and Daniel out of their classes to speak about the incident on Wednesday.
Daniel hated every second of it.
They’d been made to sit in a circle, and whoever had the little squeezy ball was supposed to talk. He’d listened to Claudia’s and Santiago’s version of events, which contradicted each other in the most stupid way, and now it was his turn. But with three pairs of eyes on him, that wasn’t as easy. He’d put the ball on his lap, not liking how it felt, preferring his usual fidgeting. The humming of the ceiling lights made him bounce his legs, and he tried to find the thread in his storm of thoughts, without success.
“Daniel, can you look at me?”
Daniel felt his body starting to heat up and tingle, and not in a pleasant way. He wanted to run out, smash the door and go onto the swings or climb on the playground. Alone.
He didn’t know why he didn’t want to talk. It was stupid, he was stupid to be like this, and Claudia would think he was weird. Santiago would, too, but he didn’t care about him. Or maybe he did care, in that he didn’t want to offer that bully more opportunities to pick on Daniel. Or on Claudia.
The ball started to roll around on his thighs, and just before it fell, Daniel caught it, squeezing it hard in one hand.
The counsellor said something, but Daniel couldn’t focus on the words. The fabric of the ball was soft, yet the rice grains inside offered resistance as he smashed it into his other hand, and then pressed his hands together, with the ball in between.
He took a deep breath, shifting his eyes back to the counsellor, who looked at him disapprovingly.
Of course, Daniel couldn’t do what was expected of him. That’s just how bad he was.
The buzzing in his head grew louder, reached a great crescendo and-
With one swift movement, Daniel threw the ball onto the floor and jumped from his chair. Without saying a word, he stormed outside, not caring that the counsellor yelled for him to come back.

Same time, somewhere else

Sometimes it was as if Louis could lose himself in Lestat’s eyes. Especially when they were lying in bed, in post-coital bliss, cuddling under the blanket.
The light blue irises that sometimes, in the right light, looked violet, were like a magnet, or a spinning wheel, making Louis focus every thought on just that. Even after all these years, Lestat’s effect on Louis hadn’t begun to wear off.
Sure, it wasn’t always easy between them… sometimes he thought that in bed they communicated better with each other than elsewhere. But that was a thought for another time. Now…
“Mon cher… did I wear you out so completely? What is going on in your pretty head, tell me?”
Louis blinked a few times and zoned back in, smiling at Lestat. He reached up to wipe away some strands of his husband’s hair that had fallen in his face.
“Not much, Les. Just marvelling at what belongs to me.”
Lestat’s eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open - Louis smirked. Yeah, right call.
“Oh, mon Saint Louis… oui, I am yours. Completely. Forever.”
Louis moved his thumb to Lestat’s lips, gently pressing down, until Lestat let out a surprised gasp.
“And I’m yours, Lestat. Ain’t nobody else who could capture me like that.”
As soon as Louis had spoken the words, something inside of him felt…strange. As if some part of him didn’t believe himself, had doubts about the truth of this statement. He couldn’t yet discern what it was, so he shoved it away, to the back of his mind, intending to think about it later. Because the way Lestat looked at him now … well, the husbandly duty called, again. There could be worse ways to spend the late morning.

Tuesday afternoon


When Daniel came home that day, he behaved strangely. Armand had tried to talk to him, to get his son to open up, but even the promise of hot chocolate couldn’t get him out of his room. Not this time.
So, with a heavy knot whirling around in his stomach, Armand gave him space and used the time to answer business e-mails. Maybe it was just a normal bad day - not everything had to be a big thing…right?
After twenty minutes of spiralling into worries, he had to hold on to his chair to suppress the impulse of walking to Daniel’s room and knocking on the door.
He was overdoing it again. Sometimes it was indescribably difficult to act against the demons still inside him, the ones that made him be overprotective, controlling. He wanted nothing more than for Daniel to have a normal development, or at least one that came closer to that than he himself had experienced.
And this wasn’t about neurodiversity. First and foremost, it was about the chains of old trauma threatening to snatch him, drag him under the veil of falling back into old patterns, of mistrust and being distant from everything and everyone. Dissociation at times could be such a bliss, when it wasn’t interfering with his life. Sadly, dissociation didn’t have the grace to stick to situations when it was convenient.
Great, now he was thinking about himself again. Well done, Father of the Year.

The sound of an incoming message made him almost jump in his seat.
After taking a breath, he grabbed his phone, looking for the notification. A message from an unknown number…must be spam. Who else would message him on his private phone?

But then… He swiped to open the message.

Armand couldn’t help but notice the small smile that had formed on his lips. He promptly replied with a haste unknown to him.

Armand pressed send and quickly typed another message, scolding himself for initially forgetting that part.

The urge to facepalm himself rose inside of him. Had it really been necessary to add that second part? Maybe… he didn’t want this to be weird. To send wrong signals.
Although…
If he concentrated on it, he could still remember the sensation of touching Louis’ skin. And Armand wasn’t the best casual socialiser, but he wasn’t naive either. Deep inside, he knew that it wasn’t a normal thing to replay that interaction in his mind over and over again. Not unless… With a sigh, Armand put his phone down on the table, ignoring the sound of further messages coming in.
Get yourself together. You cannot even start to think in that direction. He is married. 

And handsome…

Armand sighed and hugged himself briefly, starting to move back and forth.
“Maybe I am just lonely. Loneliness makes me feel and see things that are not there.” He said out loud, hoping that his subconscious would get the message. Speaking of messages... What about those dating apps? Were they worth a try, getting back to?
But… Louis’s voice sounded so warm. Armand wanted to listen to -
“Stop it!”
He clenched his fists, shook his head.
He could not fuck this up. He simply could not. He would never forgive himself if his actions somehow led to Daniel losing his friend.

But yes. One fact was undeniable: There was some attraction on his part.
And he didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Besides his therapist, perhaps.
Good that his psyche wasn’t loaded with other stressful things already…

And with that thought, he closed his notebook a tad too forcefully, chuckling about his rare use of sarcasm.

Tuesday evening

The candles on the coffee table cast a soft, warm glow, enveloping Louis and Lestat, who were cuddled up against the cushions. After Claudia had gone to bed surprisingly on time, they enjoyed a nice evening, involving a bottle of wine and a jazz vinyl to create a relaxing atmosphere.

It wasn’t often that they could do that. With Louis often working during the day and Lestat in the evenings, balancing intimacy with the demands of their jobs and raising a child seemed to be a herculean task. And usually, Louis could appreciate the quiet time, the soft touches, the way Lestat massaged his feet that were draped over his husband’s lap, showing his affection through physical contact.
But today…
“Mon cher, are you still in thoughts? Tell me, what shall I do to distract you from being stuck up there?”

Louis lifted his gaze to Lestat’s and gave him a soft smile. Following his impulse, he then reached for Lestat’s hand, who quickly met him in the middle.
“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. You and Claw. Our perfect family,” Louis said then, meaning every word.
Lestat blinked a few times, then grinned and squeezed Louis’ hand.
“Perfect…a hyperbole, non? We both know that we are far from that… but yes, my love, we are happier now than we ever were before, I can feel it too.”

Yeah, there was truth to that. They weren’t doing couples therapy for no reason. They’d had multiple rough patches, and without constantly working on their communication, they’d probably only see each other in the divorce court by now.
“I’m glad we did this, Les. Moved here. Feels freer than NOLA.”
New Orleans, where parts of his catholic family weren’t so amused by his coming out, by marrying a man. By adopting a child.
“And I love that our daughter has found a friend. That boy seems nice, and his dad-”
“Armand Ducat, yes - what do you think about him, mon Louis?”
Louis looked down at their joined hands and swallowed, as he felt and saw Lestat brushing his thumb over his skin.
“He’s nice. Seems a bit insecure.”
Lestat stopped his movement, and when Louis looked up, a frown now overtook his features.
“How can you judge his character already? We barely know him… there’s hardly evidence to suggest his social demeanour.”
Louis took a deep breath, trying to shove down a feeling of…something, in his stomach.
“Maybe we can change that? Get to know him better, it would do us good to make friends with people here.”
“Make friends? Well, there is some wisdom to that. I don’t know if this man is really that interesting to have as a closer acquaintance…” Lestat paused and broke eye contact, but when Louis wiggled his toes a bit, Lestat looked back and smiled.
“I suppose it would not hurt to try. We should invite him… and yes, Louis, before you look at me like that, I can very well play nice.”
“We’ll see about that,” Louis answered and winked, which made Lestat chuckle and then attack his feet with his fingers, sending Louis into a laughing fit.

Tuesday night

Daniel couldn't fall asleep. It was difficult each night; he hated bedtime, but usually he was overcome with sleep at some point.

Not this time.

He sat in his pile of pillows beneath his little couch in his room, trying to read a book about space in the dim light of his fairy lights on the wall, but he couldn’t process the words.

He’d stayed in his room the whole afternoon and evening, only opening his door to take the bread slices his dad had made him. He wasn't really hungry, so he ate only half of it - it tasted good, he had to admit that.

His thoughts were still filled with what happened at school, how he ran out of the counsellor’s office. Like a little kid, ridiculous. He wasn’t that little anymore - he should have handled that better. Maybe. But he couldn’t. Because he’d been scared to say the wrong thing and…
Daniel put the book on the table, and then he turned and twisted to press his face into the pillows.
He didn’t want Claudia to be mad at him and stop being his friend. If he apologised to Santiago, would she still like Daniel?
Old memories began to play out in his mind, removing him from the present and taking him back to his old school.

They'd been in New York for a few months, and it had been really hard for Daniel to adjust to the culture and customs of those around him, having freshling arrived from Dubai.
There was school, the other children… Sure, at that time, 2022, every kid struggled with that, only slowly returning to normalcy after COVID and all that it brought with it.

But they’d at least known each other for a year - Daniel was new. And like it had been here, they hadn’t believed him when he told them about the Emirates, and the blurry memories he had of France.

And then…there'd been the racism.
Being a biracial child in an otherwise only white class, sucked. Majorly. It wasn’t often that he thought about that, because he’d inherited quite a lot from his mother, and he knew what the term “white passing” meant. 

But, sometimes, when people questioned his curly, thick hair or why he had more visible arm and leg hairs than “other white boys his age”, they started treating him differently. Or in the summer, when he got a tan quite easily.
Since arriving in the US, people sometimes looked at him weird when he was out with his dad. One time, when they were about to leave the playground, a strange old lady had even asked him if he “needed help” and if she should call the police.

All that hadn’t helped Daniel to fit in and feel normal. As normal as an ADHD child could feel, anyway. But that was a whole other topic.

And maybe that was why this day had been so difficult for him. He was scared to get picked on. He was scared that he was going to be alone all over again. He wanted to do the right thing, but it seemed that in this case, there wasn’t an easy answer.

Daniel rolled around again and stared up, where little, glowing plastic stars were decorating his blue ceiling.
He probably should try to convince his dad that he was sick, that he couldn’t go to school tomorrow.
Yes, this would give him more time to - he didn’t know, really. But he was smart; he would think of something.
And with that, he let out the biggest sigh and grabbed his book again, reading about the moons of Saturn.

Armand's phone, moments later

Armand stared at his phone, blinking in confusion, his heart beating hard.

Pretty smile?

Chapter Text

Armand pulled off his sunglasses and put them into the pocket of his jacket.

Doing this, his gaze wandered away from the terrace and into the garden, where Daniel and Claudia were running around and playing some game they made up.

“Do you want something to drink? We have soda, beer, wine, coffee, tea…”

Louis’s voice made Armand whirl around to where he stepped through the terrace door, carrying a big bowl of rice salad.
Armand and Daniel had arrived fifteen minutes earlier than planned, with the official explanation that Daniel needed time to settle into being at a new location, but if he was honest, the same was true for Armand.
Louis had opened the door, greeting them with a warm smile, and when Armand apologised, he’d assured him that no, it was not a problem, he understood, and Armand shouldn’t worry about it.
“A coffee would be nice, thank you. Should I help you with some-”
“No, there’s no need, I have it all organised! Just sit here and enjoy the... weather,” Louis answered quickly, before placing the bowl on the table and rushing back inside.
Armand crossed his legs and started rubbing his thumb and fingers together in a soothing manner.
On the one hand, he was glad to have accepted the invitation. Louis was so nice, and he had something calming about him. Even pushing his initial, quite forbidden attraction towards him aside, he could imagine them becoming friends.
What darkened his mood was knowing that a bunch of other people would arrive anytime soon. Strangers, people for whom Armand had to put on even more of a mask than he felt he had to do for Louis. Louis and …Lestat.
That was the other topic that spun around in his mind.
Armand was excited to meet him. Properly, talk with him face to face. He seemed so… interesting, like he had quite an aura about him. But Armand couldn’t shake off the guilt for the thoughts he’d had last night about Louis. How could he look his husband in the face and play like nothing was up, in good conscience?
He stopped his movements and took a deep breath.
It was probably a total overreaction, this. It wasn’t his fault that Louis was handsome, and Lestat surely knew that. Could Armand be held responsible for feeling attraction? He wasn’t planning to make a move on Louis and play the role of marriage disruptor.

“Dad! Look!” Daniel yelled, and Armand, thankful for the distraction, turned toward him and Claudia, who came running up the stairs from the garden. He had something in his hand, and when he stood next to his father, he opened it.
“We’ve found this snail!”
Indeed, it sat on Daniel’s palm, half hidden in its quite beautiful house.
Daniel loved all kinds of animals - even those he wasn’t supposed to get close to. Back in the Emirates, there’d been a close call with a snake, that-
“Bonjour and welcome to our humble abode!”
Armand knew the voice that came from behind him - it belonged to Lestat.
Daniel widened his eyes and stared up at him - so Armand leaned forward and nudged Daniel’s hand, so he wouldn’t let the snail fall.
“Why do you not go and put the snail somewhere where it will be happy, hm? Can you find a place here in the garden?”
Daniel blinked a few times and then nodded, smiling at Armand. When Daniel started to move, Armand swallowed and turned around.
Lestat stood next to the door, leaning against the wall, a slight smirk on his lips.

His blonde, slightly curly hair fell down to his shoulders, and Armand wondered if he always wore it like that. His V-neck tee accentuated his collarbones in such a way that it was hard not to lock eyes on them for longer than a passing glance.

“Hi,” Armand said, trying to sound casual.

Lestat gave him a toothy grin and, in one fluid movement, pushed himself off the wall and approached Armand, holding out his hand.

“It's nice to meet you, Armand. Well, technically, we have met before, isn't that right? But this seems much more pleasant.”

Armand nodded and shook Lestat’s hand. It felt different from Louis’, his skin wasn't as smooth, but he could feel the strength of the muscles lying underneath the surface. At the tip of his fingers, acrylic nails shimmered silvery, adding a touch of elegance to the hand. Lestat pulled away after a moment and moved to sit down in the chair next to Armand, which was thankfully around the corner of the table.

“I am glad to see that Daniel is better now. Claudia mentioned that he was absent from school for the last few days. Something about an upset stomach?” 

Armand didn't like the inquisitive tone in his voice - but maybe he was overinterpreting that. He was so used to people saying one thing and strangely meaning another that he’d learned to sometimes distrust their words, even when perhaps it wasn't warranted.

“Yes, it was only a momentary issue.”

He thought back to Wednesday morning, when Daniel had tried his best to fake being sick. Armand immediately saw through the deception but acted as if he believed him and let him stay home. Daniel wasn't a kid who skipped school on a whim, so Armand knew something was up, something that he couldn't let slide. In the late afternoon, when he got more time, they sat down together, and Daniel told him about his worries, about how stressed he was due to the situation at school.

They'd made a deal then, that Daniel was allowed to stay home for the rest of the week, under the condition that he would still do his homework and that they'd talk and try to make a strategy to solve the problem.

Lestat raised a brow at Armand's answer, which made him sink back in his chair a bit.
“I see.”
Why was his tone so snappy? What had Armand done wrong to cause this reaction?
He would never ask these questions, of course.
The way Lestat’s gaze lingered on his face made Armand look away, staring at some flower bushes.
“Well, now that this is settled… would you like something to drink?”
Armand smirked.
“Louis already asked me, I believe he is - “
“Coming through!” Louis interrupted, stepping through the door with two mugs of steaming coffee.
After placing them on the table, he straightened up and let his eyes dart between Lestat and Armand.
“So, you’ve already met. No need for more introduction.” He chuckled and then stepped towards Lestat, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Observing the display of marital affection between the two, something stung inside Armand, no matter how much he tried not to feel it. It wasn’t his right to feel like that. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly - what did he have to be jealous about? It wasn’t as if he had a claim to any of them. So, he shoved it down, like he did with so many emotions that simply weren’t suited for the moment. Louis stepped away from Lestat and put the mug down in front of Armand.

“Here’s your coffee. Put in some sugar and milk - I hope you like it. Was a guess, could be totally wrong, and I could make you a new one, if - ”
“It is fine, thank you,” Armand said, bending slightly towards the beverage to inhale the sweet-smelling steam.
“I mean- I like it. Yes.”
Couldn’t say one normal sentence, could he?

Looking at the coffee, Armand started to notice that there was a certain pattern to the foam which rested on the liquid - he recognised it as a leaf. Not any leaf - when Armand squinted, he could see that it was supposed to be a coast live oak.
Before moving here, he’d studied the trees in the region, just in case something would come up in Daniel’s biology class one day. 

He smiled and looked back at Louis.

“You do coffee foam art?”

Louis chuckled and looked almost nervous now, while Lestat raised an eyebrow at his husband's change of facial expression.

“Got me there. ‘Just started, you know? I’m not an artist by any means. But if I could become a foam art amateur, that would be fun. ‘Tis something else.”
Lestat now smiled, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, smugness creeping into his face.

“He is quite good at making hearts, I can tell you. I get the pleasure to enjoy them each morning.”

“Lestat,” Louis said in a tone that seemed half fond, half displeased. Armand didn’t understand it.
“Did you know I was in the art business?” He asked to shift the conversation into something more familiar to him.
“Really? Wow, no, I didn’t.”
Suddenly, Lestat gave up his almost defensive stance and stepped closer, now with genuine interest.

“That is intriguing indeed.”

Armand brought his hands to the mug, testing if it was cool enough to wrap his hands around. It wasn’t. He ignored the way the heat made his skin sting and leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms and pulling out his businessman smile.

“Yes. I deal with art, paintings usually. I have been in the business for quite a while. I started out as an assistant, travelled the world, settled here and there… now I am the owner of such an enterprise.”

Was he bragging? Sometimes people took his statement as that, and he hoped Louis and Lestat wouldn’t think so as well.

“Worked your way up, huh? That’s honourable. Wouldn’t you agree, Les?”
Louis shot Lestat an encouraging gaze, and Lestat quickly nodded, while Armand was busy shoving down hurtful memories, the phrasing of the question had evoked.
“Oui, c’est le cas. Not an easy thing to do in the realms of creative enterprises. I started out small as well, while mon Saint Louis here - “

“Daddy Lou, Daddy Les!” Claudia interrupted, approaching the table with Daniel next to her.
“Can we play on the Switch?”
Lestat snapped his mouth shut and exchanged glances with Louis.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Louis said, with Lestat starting to answer at the same time.
“Once you have switched into the garden dress, like I have asked you to do, mon petit fleur, you can.”

“But Daddy, it -”

“Non, you know my stance on this. Don’t you want to look presentable to the guests?”

Claudia rolled her eyes and stomped inside, with Daniel following behind, shyly.

“Fine. Whatever.” She said, and Armand didn’t like what he just witnessed at all. By the look on Louis's face, he didn’t either.
“Armand, excuse us for a moment, would you? Les. Let’s look after the baguette, yeah?”

“But mon cher, the baguette is-”
“We will be right back,” Louis said and walked inside, with Lestat, after a moment of hesitation and an apologetic smile, did the same. 

So once again, Armand was left alone with his thoughts. 

Inside, Lestat followed Louis into the kitchen, hesitant - he really wasn’t eager to have an argument now , but if Louis insisted, there was no way to escape this.
When they were through the door, Louis stopped and turned around, letting out a big sigh.
“Les … We’ve been over this how many times?”
Lestat crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
“I am no mathematician.”
His tone was slightly snippier than he’d intended to, but well, it was done now. He wouldn’t budge easily.
Louis mirrored his pose, and he stared at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up, the look in his eyes made Lestat swallow.
“Our Claudia is no doll for display. She’s a young girl with a healthy self-image regarding her body and her clothes. I will not let you fuck this up.”
“Louis, I-” Lestat tried with a disarming smile, but his husband didn’t relent, not this time.
“No, Lestat. We agreed. A compromise was made.”
Lestat put on a frown, his fingers tapping against his arm. When he went to recite the said compromise, his tone was just short of mocking.
“We can encourage her to dress nicely, but only if she shows interest. We will enforce appropriate clothing, which means that she is dressed according to the weather. No coercion, no pressure.”
“Exactly,” Louis said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the tone.
“And what was that just now? I’d say it was coercion. She can choose for herself whether to wear that dress. She doesn’t need to be presentable for anyone. I don’t get you. It was you who suggested this, and now-”
“I’m sorry, mon cher…” Lestat said, stepping towards Louis and reaching for him. He wasn’t entirely convinced about the matter of the argument, but he truly didn’t mean to upset anyone. Not at this time. Well, Armand, perhaps, a little. To test him, test his resolve… he couldn’t endure having people around who would break too easily. And in all honesty, he hoped that Armand would withstand.

Louis raised an eyebrow, slowly uncrossing his arms.
“Are you? Or do you just want to escape this conversation?”
Lestat smirked a little, less smugly than he did outside.
“Can’t both be true? Louis… I just … want the world to see what beautiful daughter we have, our Claudia, our pride… but … I suppose she glows with the most beauty, when she wears what she chooses too.”
“Mhmm. This topic is not done with, yeah? But for now… okay. And thank you for listening. I know it’s not easy for you. I see your progress.”
Lestat rolled his eyes affectionately.
“Do not get all therapeutic on me now.. Let us return to -”
Child’s laughter from the living room interrupted him, and it warmed his heart to hear it. 

After a nod from Louis, they made their way back. Lestat slowed his steps, stopping by the couch, where Daniel and Claudia, in her dress, were busy playing Mario Kart.
“Claudia, you do not need to wear the dress if you do not wish to. It was an… error in my judgment.”

She didn’t look at him, but answered regardless.
“Uh, it’s okay, I like the dress, actually. Can’t talk now - I have to win this race!”
Lestat chuckled. He often thought that she got the competitiveness from him, although it couldn’t be the genes, of course. His influence, then. A little determination to win wouldn’t hurt to have, in this society.
“Children, sometimes…” He heard Louis mumble behind him, and Lestat couldn’t suppress the amused smile.

Back outside, they found Armand sitting on the edge of his chair, fingers drumming a rhythm against the tabletop. 

“Hey stranger,” Louis joked, and approached - and stopped, when Armand didn’t immediately react to him.
“Armand?”

Armand whirled his head around, looking quite startled for a split second, before a mask of politeness returned to his face.

“Oh. I apologise, I was lost in thought, it seems. Happens sometimes.”

Louis nodded, having experienced this predicament himself, especially in the past.

“No worries. So… guests should arrive soon, I need to head upstairs and change clothes, uhm, you two will be fine here, yeah?”

“Of course,” Lestat said, and then pointed to the second coffee mug.
“Don’t you want to drink your coffee, mon cher?”

“Later. I don’t mind it being cold. See you.” Louis answered and went through the terrace door, gone again.

Lestat stood frozen for a second before he reminded himself to play nice today. With languid movements, he made his way to a chair and sat down, concentrating not to stare Armand down like he had before.

“You are not a fan of small talk, I take it?” He said after a little while, and when he met Armand’s gaze, he saw surprise there.

“No, I must admit that I find it useless most of the time. I can do it for work. But when I am with people I-” Armand stopped, looking away.
“When I am in a non-work context, I try to avoid it.”

“Then you will be happy to know that the other guests aren’t huge fans of it either. They’re friends, good friends - well, I haven’t known them for long. I work with them.”
Armand smiled a little, and he grabbed his coffee mug, not taking a sip, though.

“What do you do for work? Something with the arts as well?”

Lestat flashed Armand one of his genuine smiles.

“I work in theatre. Musical theatre.”
Now, Armand sat up straight, his eyes laser-focused. Totally different from the idle, distracted creature he was two minutes ago.

“Musicals! Oh, I quite like them. To watch, that is - I am not a person who enjoys being on a stage. Oh, I remember now that Louis said something about Broadway.”

Lestat hummed, and he grabbed Louis’ coffee, taking a little sip - he surely wouldn’t mind.
“We are still in rehearsal for another few months, but I could get you premiere tickets. And Daniel, of course. The front row will be taken, but I could get you in the second or third. Easily.”

The way Armand’s eyes lit up at that did something to his feelings, yet he wasn’t sure what.
“Which play do you do?”

Lestat considered for a moment to make Armand guess, for the fun of it, but when he saw his eager face, he blurted the answer out.
“Hamilton.”

“Really? Okay, I would not have thought that -”

“You do not take me for a Hamilton kind of guy?”

Armand positively blushed and looked away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I am jesting, of course. But… can you guess my role?”

“I really cannot,” Armand admitted, grinning back at Lestat. The grin suited him - Lestat wanted to see more of it.

“Non? Hm, what about …” He snatched one of the folded napkins and put it on his head, sitting up straight and staring Armand down stoically.
“You are… King George!” Armand said, followed by a giggle that very much went directly to Lestat’s heart.
“Indeed. It’s me, Your Majesty…” He winked at Armand and wanted to return the napkin, but Louis, coming back outside, was quicker.

“And may Your Majesty be so kind as to not use the table setting as prompts for his spontaneous outdoor rehearsal?” He said, grabbing the napkin and placing it back on the table.

All three of them started to laugh - even Armand.
The ring of the bell interrupted the lighthearted moment - the first guests, well, other guests, were arriving.
Let the party begin, then, Lestat thought, quite excited to have more people around him. But when he saw Armand basically deflating into the chair, he realised that not everyone seemed to feel like that. Well, he would make the best out of it, and Armand would enjoy himself eventually. For some reason, he really quite wanted Armand to feel welcome - a thought for later. Now he had to be a good host and start the greetings. 

The BBQ was actually quite… endurable.
After the other guests had arrived, it didn’t take long for Louis and Lestat to present all of the different kinds of dishes they’d prepared, leading everyone to the table and powering up the grill.
In total, there were ten people, counting the children. A little less than Armand had feared, but still more than he’d prefer to see at once on his own terms. Group settings had always overwhelmed him.
While eating rice salad, baguette and some grilled goods, Armand was happy to just listen to the conversations, most of them, due to the nature of the present social circle, being about the Hamilton production. Not all of the other guests were actors or actresses. While Tariq, Oliver and Esmee were Lestat’s fellow cast members, Lorena apparently worked in hair and make-up, and Léon belonged to the stage crew. 

It made for an awkward moment when, after they’d shared a laugh about a story with “the turntable” stopping mid-rehearsal, Armand quietly asked them to explain.
“I thought you have watched Hamilton before?” Lestat asked, raising one eyebrow, shooting Armand a look that almost seemed challenging. The arrogance of his tone didn’t sit right with Armand. 

“I have,” he mumbled, eyes darting away to look at the kids, who’d finished their meal and were currently busy with some jumping ropes in the garden.
“Lestat, don’t be such an ass - how was he to know what we mean by that?” Esmee came to Armand’s rescue, smiling at him gently. Too gently. People sometimes did that, seeing his confusion or perhaps his anxiety, and then proceeding to treat him as a child. She didn’t go all the way to that, but it still made him feel a little uneasy. Was it fair to think like this? She only meant well, surely.

“Turntable is what we call the revolving stage in the middle. And I can tell you, being on it, you really do feel like you’ve climbed onto a giant record player.”

She laughed then, and the others joined in. Armand did so too, but honestly, just to make the situation feel less strange.

After that, and despite Lestat's point about them not being that eager to, the topics became more small-talk-y, so much so that Armand almost wished they would just speak about Hamilton again.

Over the course of the afternoon and early evening, there were several occasions where Armand thought he’d caught Louis glancing his way in a way that seemed different from “just friendly”, but each time he met his gaze, Louis hastily darted his eyes to somewhere else. But it was not only him. Lestat also shot him these glances, and by the time they were finished with eating, Armand tried his best to distract himself by appearing social and as normal as he could fake it, so he wouldn’t have enough energy left to think too hard about the meaning of the aforementioned looks. Or about the way they made his skin tingle.

So, when, after Louis and Lestat had cleared the table, shooting down every offer to be helped with it, the guests slowly started to get ready to leave, he let out a small relieved sigh. He assumed that it was time for him to go as well. It was 7:30 pm, so a little early, but they also started early.
To his confusion, Lestat too grabbed his jacket, and after giving Louis a kiss on his cheek, he turned to Armand with a smile.
“I am afraid that I will have to say my goodbyes now, another actor is having a little birthday celebration at a bar, and we’re headed there now. But with Louis, you are in good company.”
Something was in his gaze that made Armand wonder whether the last sentence was meant as something nice to say, or if there was something more threatening to it. Before he could really react, he was flooded with goodbyes from the others, and the six left, leaving only Louis and Armand sitting at the garden table.
Daniel and Claudia had been inside for a while now, focused on their earlier paused Mario Kart match. 

“I should get Daniel - it really was a lovely barbecue, thank you for the invitation,” Armand said, half standing up already, when Louis’ answer made him sit back down.

“Why don’t you stay for a while longer? The kids are having fun, and if they exert themselves now, bedtime will go easier, eh?” He said with a grin that made Armand smile back automatically.

“If you phrase it like that…”
“Do you want something to drink? I’ve got wine here that’s just longing to get shared.”

By the way his eyes sparkled, Armand got the impression that this was about more than letting the kids have some more fun. But, if he was honest…
“Yes, I think I would like that. Quite.” 

And while Louis went inside to get the bottle and two glasses, Armand wondered what he had just agreed to.

Chapter Text

By the time Louis came outside again, Armand had begun pacing up and down the terrace, stopping to gaze into the direction where the sun was currently setting, casting a warm orange spread over the slowly darkening sky. 

“Can be a pretty view. I often find myself standing and staring into the scenery as well. I wonder what it’ll be like in other seasons.”
Armand ripped his focus away from the landscape and directed his attention to Louis, who put a little tray on the garden table.
“You really didn’t need to-”
“Nah. But I wanted to. It’s getting a bit dark out here, wait just a sec.”
Armand took that literally, didn’t move, only watched as Louis walked towards a small shutter on the wall next to the door, pulling it up and revealing multiple switches and buttons.

“I now proudly present: Our outside lighting system.”

With a flick of the upper switch, brightness suddenly rained from above. When Armand searched for the cause, he found strings of fairy lights woven from pillar to pillar, all around the terrace and across, building a sort of roof the design of which Armand had yet to understand. 

Louis seemed to notice Armand’s wondrous gaze.

“It was Claudia’s idea - and Lestat drew up the plans.”

“It’s beautiful,” Armand let out in an almost whisper, before he shook himself back into action and walked up towards Louis, passing him to sit down in the first seat at the now way too large looking table, his back to the house so he could watch the garden some more. 

Louis joined him swiftly, choosing to sit just around the corner so they were now next to each other - diagonally, but close, still. 

“Thank you. I really like this house, it has character. Wine?”
He took the two glasses from the tray and then opened the bottle, the cork springing out with a plop just loud enough to make Armand flinch. 

“Yes, please.” 

Louis expertly poured him one, and then himself, the red liquid sloshing around in the vessel, looking even more inviting in the soft glow from above.

Only then did Armand see the other items Louis had brought outside, raising a brow in question.
A candle and a matchbox, a small cigarette pack and a small glass bowl filled with something Armand assumed were snacks.

To Armand’s surprise, Louis blushed slightly when their gazes met and took a sip from his wine, before giving an explanation.

“I’m not a regular smoker. I occasionally indulge when the mood strikes - usually, I don’t have company then. I can bring them back inside if it bothers you.”

Armand had to suppress a small chuckle - the cigarettes were the last thing on his mind here.

“It is fine - I smoked quite a lot in my youth and early twenties. Stopped when I got Daniel. But, I must ask. Why the candle?”

“Oh, it was still on the tray - I didn’t -” He stopped and laughed awkwardly, and Armand wasn’t sure whether to believe that he didn’t bring it out on purpose. Louis’s laugh was endearing, and it sparked something in him, a sudden display of cheekiness. 

“Are these peanuts? I could be allergic, you know.” He said, his tone light and a smirk appearing on his face.

Louis mirrored his expression but then tilted his head, looking at Armand with a hint of playful superiority.
“If only it weren’t for the barbecue we just had and me questioning you about allergies yesterday. I saw you enthusiastically digging into the rice salad - these are the peanuts that didn’t make it in.” 

Armand smiled against the edge of his wine glass and busied himself with drinking, not quite sure what to retort now. He quite liked the way they talked, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Unless… No, surely not.

“The wine tastes sublime,” He offered, relieved when Louis smiled at that. 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking, Armand.”
His name, coming from Louis’s lips, made a small shiver run down his spine. 

A loud laughter coming from inside broke the spell - Armand didn’t know whether to be thankful about it or grieve the moment - and when their gazes met again, there was a joy in Louis’s eyes that Armand knew all too well from himself.

“The kids are having fun, it seems,” Louis said and poured some peanuts into his hand, then picked up one after the other with two fingers, bringing them to his mouth to eat. 

Armand nodded and as he spoke, he watched Louis' movements absentmindedly.
“It makes me happy to witness Daniel being a normal child, playing with friends. He can get so serious, sometimes.”

Louis hummed and then looked like he was thinking about something for a moment. 

“Your wording earlier, you said, ‘when I got Daniel’, not ‘when Daniel was born’ - sorry if I’m overstepping here, but did you adopt him? I sometimes talk like this about our Claudia, so I wondered.”

Armand wasn’t exactly thrilled to have this brought up, but he could see genuine interest written all over the other man’s face, so he sighed a little and leaned back into his chair, eyes drifting across the garden aimlessly as he answered. 

“He is my biological child. But I never knew of his existence until he was two years old, and his mother died. I went through the process of getting custody, then, before leaving the States with him, returning to France.”
Armand opted for the short version of this story. Louis surely didn’t wish to get overloaded with details, and he wasn’t quite sure whether he was ready to share them. He barely knew this man - usually, he didn’t open up at all. Something about Louis made Armand feel at ease, though. Maybe it was because their children were friends, maybe it was the shared experience of being a queer, black/brown parent in a neighbourhood dominated by white people and their picture book-esque families.
Or maybe…
Maybe it was the pull Armand felt while looking at Louis, making his emotions swirl inside of him. 

“That surely sounds complicated,” Louis said, taking a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it with a match. When he exhaled a cloud of smoke, letting his head fall back, both of them watched the smoke dissipate. It had something calming.

Armand reminded himself that, according to common communication rules, it was now his turn to ask a question. 

“How was the process with Claudia? Adoption, I mean.”

“About as easy as trying to catch a fish with your bare hands. When Lestat and I decided to adopt, we went to one of those weird ‘pick your child’ events that orphanages or homes sometimes host. Terrible, if you ask me, but we were asked to attend so of course we did, not wanting to sour any chances. There were a lot of children running about, but this little girl, sitting in the grass and picking flowers, caught our attention at once. She was barely two years old then. We asked to see her again, and were approved to visit, starting the process and, kid you not, it took one year of visits and another year of fostering her in our home until we were allowed to officially adopt her as our daughter. That second year was hell - living in constant fear that they would take her away again.”

Louis' gaze seemed lost to the narrative for a moment, and Armand swallowed down a comment of pity - Louis surely wouldn’t appreciate that coming from a stranger like him. 

So, he just hummed and drummed a little pattern against the table’s edge, continuing to listen.

“The system’s fucked up, if you ask me. I learned later that the start of the process supposedly was a bit shady, ‘cause Louisiana isn’t supposed to allow direct choosing of children for adoption. ‘Tis more about preference and matching than being like adopting a pet from a shelter. But for us, that’s past. She is legally ours, and no one can take her from us. I think that’s why Lestat sometimes gets a little overprotective.”

The sudden mention of Lestat’s name made Armand snap out of the weird state he was in while listening to Louis. 

“Lestat surely has a bold character,” he hummed, not missing the surprise on Louis’ face.

“He gave you hell today, and ‘bold’ is what you choose to describe him with?”

Armand blinked in confusion, letting his fingers glide along the stem of his wine glass.

“Why do you think he gave me ‘hell’, to quote your words?”

Louis took a long drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sometimes Armand could get a little too distracted.

“He was trying to rile you up. Don’t think too much of it - he always does this. Annoying, but ultimately harmless. He can get a bit possessive.”

The way Louis hesitated before the ‘a bit’ part was perhaps an indication that there was a little more to it than Louis would give away. And because the afternoon had drained his energy quite a lot, Armand chose not to implore further this time.

They continued to talk about their kids, the school, but also about themselves, until they seemed to be running out of words.

When Louis’ gaze lingered on Armand, the air suddenly felt loaded with anticipation and warmth. 

So much so that Armand had to reevaluate what he’d pushed from his mind earlier. The stares, the way they’d talked earlier … according to what Armand had memorised about this, Louis was flirting with him. The only question was: Was it deliberate? No, two questions, because - if so, why would he do it? He seemed quite happy with Lestat from what Armand could gather.

“...mand?” 

Armand blinked himself back to reality, only to be met with an amused look.

“You went somewhere else for a bit. Are you okay?”

“I am -” Armand started, not knowing what to say. If he was wrong about it all, this could get awkward, and he didn’t have the strength to endure that. 

It was unfair. He had enjoyed this moment so far, until his mind had decided to make it complicated. He wanted to do the right thing, but what did that mean in this context?

“I am quite tired,” Armand said, looking at his wristwatch. 9:00 pm. How had they talked for so long, when to him it had felt like ten minutes?

It wasn’t even a lie. He was exhausted, socially mostly. But mainly, he needed a way out of this situation before it would evolve to something dangerous, something they could not undo. 

Louis leaned back, a slight frown on his face, that quickly moved into a polite smile when their gazes met. 

“I understand. I’m glad I got the chance to get to know you a little better. And I-I should really clean up the rest of the dishes, yeah.”

“Do you need help?” Armand asked automatically and bit his tongue because his whole deal right now was to get away from Louis. Thankfully, Louis shook his head and stood up, putting the empty glasses back on the tray. 

Armand should have been happy about that. But instead, he felt disappointment creep up on him.
Without saying much else, they went inside, checking on Claudia and Daniel, who were still playing Mario Kart, although judged by their relative silence and the way they could barely sit upright, all the excitement must have gotten to them too. 

“Daniel? It is time to leave.”

Daniel ignored Armand at first, so he resorted to clearing his throat and walking 

up to his son, who sighed and put down the controller.

“I was losing anyway,” he mumbled, and Claudia gave him a tired smile.

Getting Daniel into the jacket Armand had brought with them and out of the door was easy enough, only for them to stand out in the driveway, Armand frozen in embarrassment. They’d been driven here by Rashid, but he had given him the evening off - so they were essentially carless. Why hadn’t he thought of that? The nervousness of having to socialise must have distracted him from that. Adult and Father of the Year, 2.0. He shook his head a little, not sure whether to laugh or be angry at himself.
The distance between their homes wasn’t too great. They could walk if deemed necessary. Seeing the way Daniel clung to his arm like a sack of flour, he tossed that idea right out of his mind.

“I could give you a quick drive home,” Louis offered, and were Armand alone, he surely would have said no. But the offer to get Daniel into bed sooner rather than later was too attractive to decline.

He nodded.

“Thank you - I’d appreciate that.”

“Of course. Just let me get Claudia and my keys.”

It seemed that there wasn’t just one overprotective parent in the de Pointe du Lac-de Lioncourt household, but Armand kept that thought for himself. 

The drive back home was silent. The kids were sleeping on the backseats, while Louis' eyes stayed focused on the road. When they pulled up into their driveway, and Louis stopped the car, Armand hesitated for a moment.

“I, too, enjoyed learning about you. It was nice.”
Nice as an euphemism for nerve-wrecking, enchanting and impossibly foolishly crushing on Louis like a schoolboy. 

Louis’ eyes sparkled with joy when he heard that.

After waking up Daniel as gently as he could, and saying their goodbyes, Armand watched as Louis’ car rolled back onto the street and disappeared around the corner. 

While Daniel walked ahead to the house, Armand took a moment to collect himself, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, talking to himself in his head.

Breathe, Armand.
Some people flirt for fun - you cannot assume he means it like that. He is married.
Not. Available.

With a sigh, he followed Daniel, ignoring how his heart constricted at the thought of stopping what had just begun.

When Lestat returned home close to midnight, slightly tipsy but having kept to his promise not to overdo it, he expected to find his husband in their bedroom, soundly tucked into bed, with a book in his hands.
Instead, he found a tired-looking Louis sitting at the kitchen table, with an empty wine bottle before him, looking up as he entered.

“Hello, mon cher, I hope you had a nice -”

“Lestat,” Louis interrupted him, holding up a hand.

“Lestat,” he repeated, more quietly this time, eyes darting to the table.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

“And that’s when he said, ‘Lestat, we need to talk,’ and I knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant topic by the way he looked at me, but that he would go so far as to admit –”

“Would you rather I lie to you?” 

“No, but your timing was very off, Louis.”

“Oh, I apologise that my timing wasn’t to your liking. Should I have sent you a two-week notice?”

“Too funny. Almost as funny as hearing that your HUSBAND fancies another MAN HE HAS BARELY MET!”

“Okay, okay, time out – remember the rules, no shouting.” Mrs Field interrupted the conversation, holding up her hands as if to ease the tension building in the room. For the most part, she had let this play out, but a good therapist knows when to intervene.

Louis and Lestat glared at one another briefly before returning their gazes to her.

“Let us unfold this. First – Louis. You told Lestat about your newfound attraction for another man, is that right?”

“Uh-huh,” Louis agreed, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands folded, staring at the carpet.

“Okay. Why did you tell him that?”

“Wanted to be honest. Want to be honest. Other than you , Lestat, in the past when you –”

“That's the past, Louis! How often do I have to say that I am sorry for –”

“Let us focus on the present conflict, please. Okay, Lestat – what do you feel, hearing that from Louis?”

“I … am angry.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because he – we – we agreed to stay true to each other. For our sake and Claudia’s. And now he is out there when I turn my back –”

“I didn't do anything! I told you the moment I realised! It's not like I can control who I like, Lestat!”

“Lestat, Louis feels that he didn't violate your relationship through his actions. And he is right in the aspect that we cannot be responsible for what we feel – only how and whether we act upon it.”

Lestat glared at her, fire spraying from his eyes.

“So, you are taking sides here?”

“I am not taking sides, Lestat. I am trying to help you see each other’s perspective on this. I think there might be more to what you're feeling right now, besides anger.”

“Well, I am known to be a jealous kind of person.”

“I wasn't referring to jealousy. That's less of a pure feeling and rather a complex, learnt response to give other feelings an outlet.”

“Louis, why don't you share a bit about your feelings and make a start?”

“Okay. Les, I – I like him, yes. I am attracted to him. I want to flirt with him and possibly do more than that. And you know what? That really fucking scares me, that's what.”

“Mon cher, are you … scared of me?”

“No! Yes…no. It's complicated. ‘m not scared of you like that, 'bout you being angry and all. I trusted you to never hurt me again after that one time, and you gave me no reason to doubt that. I just…. Damn, why is this so hella difficult?”

“Talking about feelings makes you vulnerable. And someone with your biography – both of you, actually – you are on edge, so to speak. Take a moment, if you need to.”

Louis closed his eyes and counted to twenty, managing his breath. When he felt calmer, he looked at Lestat as he talked.

“Okay. Lestat, I am scared about what that means for us. For our marriage. I don't want to cheat on you. I don't want to want him , but I do. That's fucked up, isn't it?”

“Not all married partners choose to stay purely monogamous. Have you heard of the term ‘open marriage’?”

“Yeah.”

“We've tried it.“

“Didn't go so well.”

“I just want to make sure that you have all the tools to navigate such a conversation. Lestat, can you try to share with Louis a bit more?”

“Oui… I am… Perhaps I am not really angry. I am … mon dieu. Alright, I will admit – I am scared too. I don't want to lose you, Louis. I can't. Please don't leave me –”

“Hey, hey, hey, shhh, Les –  I won't leave you. I love you, you big idiot. I can't live without you and –”

He stopped when he saw the therapist raise an eyebrow.

“... figuratively speaking. I can't believe you would think that I could do that to you.”

“The other reason I am scared is that I seem to be… how do you say… double jealous. Louis I… I like him too. He's interesting, and I – wish to…yes.”

“...What?!”

“I didn't wish to upset you –”

“So you scream at me at home for hours for daring to find another guy attractive while you felt the same and hid it from me?”

“It's not like that, I—”

“Lestat, spare me your bullshit. I just don't know how to move forward from this now.”

“If we think about it, it seems easy, non? We both desire him – we could invite him into our –”

“You mean a threesome?”

“To get it out of our systems and return to normalcy – yes. Why not?”

“Because we absolutely fucking will not use him as a toy to be discarded. Don't you have some respect or any consideration for the feelings of other people?”

“I am not a monster, Louis. Also, you never know. Maybe he enjoys the thought of - ”

“I think we should hit pause on this right now and focus on the next steps. How do you wish to proceed in your communication about this?”

“Well, I made a suggestion. Not my fault if Louis is being – “

“Lestat!”

Because of an extended Zoom meeting for work, Armand was running late for his therapy appointment. Which in his case meant that he still had five minutes of waiting time once he’d hurried through the office doors – too little time to mentally switch between areas of his life and truly get in touch with himself.

He would make the best of it still, but it wasn't ideal.

Just as he sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting area, the door to the therapist’s room flung open, and out came Louis and Lestat, like they had the first time they'd met here. 

Great. Of course, this was just what he'd needed. 

“Hey, Armand!” Louis greeted him briefly before rushing by and heading outside, leaving Armand baffled, staring at Lestat, who looked at him strangely.

Armand studied his face closely. There was anger flickering, but Lestat's eyes didn't match that completely.

“Bonjour et au revoir.”

“Bonjour et au revoir aussi,” Armand found himself answering automatically. It was strange – French was his second language, although it was the third he'd come in contact with. The few words of Italian he'd picked up in Italy didn't really count.

Then came English, and although he spoke it with a normalcy like a native, thought in it, dreamed in it – there was something about automatic responses tending to go easier in French. Not his original native language, but most of what he could remember of his childhood. 

Lestat had left, probably running after Louis, and Mrs Field called him in.

After settling down and sipping on a glass of water, Armand prepared himself for having to talk. Mrs Field looked at him with a kind smile.

“How have you been lately?”

A loaded question. Armand stared at her, inhaling and exhaling slowly through his nose.

And there was no easy answer to it.

“The situation at Daniel’s school calmed down. He feels better now, and things are better at home as well.”

She nodded and then waited, to which Armand tilted his head, a little confused.

“Although I am glad to hear that your son is doing well, my question was how you have been feeling.”

“Oh.” Armand rolled his fidget ring up and down his index finger, carefully choosing his words.

“I have… Things are a bit complicated right now.” 

Due to her attentive gaze, he swallowed and sighed before relenting and opening up about his feelings.

He told her about the barbecue and about his confusion, but also about how, since then, he hadn't heard from Louis.

He was embarrassed about the number of times he'd stared at his phone, hoping for a message to appear on the screen. But he told her, having popped the lid from the bottle, its content flowing freely.

After he'd finished, she looked at him, and the question she asked went through his mind like a blade.

“Do you think of yourself as someone not worth pursuing in any context?”

It hit Armand somewhere deep down, whirling up a storm of things that should be buried. He didn't remember the rest of the session.

He was on autopilot when he made his way to his car and then was barely present enough to drive safely. 

Echoes of the past rang subtly.

Thoughts and images about his body being desirable in all the wrong ways and about himself hiding away in his mind when the abuse became too much made each step up the stairs in his house exhausting.

But he was not there anymore. He was stronger now, not helpless. So he went through the routines of getting back to reality, slowly crawling away again from the edge of the abyss, and by the time Daniel came home from school, he’d shovelled enough sand over the hole inside of him to make him feel capable of ignoring it.

He was just hoping the sand would be stable enough to hold him up securely. If he sank, he would drag Daniel down with him, and he couldn't make them go through that again.

“Okay, people! Enjoy your break, rehearsal will continue in thirty minutes!”

Lestat walked into the wings of the stage, pulling one of the countless chairs out so he could collapse on it.

Dancing was exhausting. And there was quite a lot of it in Hamilton. When he was not currently on stage as King George, he played ensemble, whirling around his co-stars while trying to get used to the “not moving but getting moved” thing the turntable caused. 

He wasn't complaining - he loved everything about this production, loved being part of it.

And yet -

“Lestat! Here, drink something.” Esmee said, throwing a water bottle at him that he caught at the last moment.

“Merci.”

He basically inhaled the water, enjoying the coldness running down his throat.

“Hope you're not coming down with something. Usually, you're not that exhausted after this. You alright?”

Her eyes roamed over him, probably searching for any signs of illness. Yet Lestat knew there was nothing wrong with him. Not physically, at least.

“I had a difficult morning. That is all.”

He didn't know how else to express his stress about the therapy session earlier, the resulting argument with Louis in the car, which led to them not having sex at noon like he'd gotten used to. 

To say he was pent up with all kinds of feelings was an understatement.

“You can talk about it if you want, you know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” Lestat answered, screwing the lid back on the almost empty bottle.

Esmee rolled her eyes but then smiled, sitting down on the floor, doing some light stretching.

“Lestat?” She said after a few minutes of silence, in which Lestat had begun to spiral.

“I wanted to… ask. About… the barbecue. This new friend of yours, Armand, right? He is kinda cute and -”

“He's not a friend,” Lestat interjected, before dropping his gaze to the floor, rethinking his words, before adding onto them.

“...Yet. But also - he's not available, I’m afraid. There was some talk about a boyfriend… “

Lestat wasn't sure why he was lying like that or why the words rolling from his tongue like that suddenly tasted bitter. 

“Hm.” She said, her smile filtering slightly.

“He could be polyamorous -”

“Poly-what?”

“You serious?” 

She blinked at him before grinning.

“And here I thought you knew everything about queer culture. Polyamory - having more than one partner, consensually. There's a lot more to it, and I have no time now, sorry. I could send you a link later, if you're interested?”

She must have taken his apparent interest from the way his eyes had widened, how he was leaning forward so much he was afraid he'd fall from the chair. He wasn't in the mood for emotional honesty, though.

“Interested? Me? Why would I - No, it's fine. Do not bother.”

“Your loss.” She said and shrugged. 

When she got up, she gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, her eyes serious.

“This topic is not yet over, Lioncourt - and you should do anything else in your break than sit on stage and sulk.”

“I am not sulking.” Lestat huffed, but she was already gone.

Polyamory.

Hm.

No - He wasn't like that! He wanted Louis, just needed his Louis, and everything would be alright again. 

It didn't matter how cute Armand looked, how his smile made him melt inside, how much he wanted to touch-

With a frustrated groan, he jumped from the chair and made his way outside. He needed some fresh air. To cool his mind … and his body.

After getting Claudia to bed and avoiding Lestat until he headed out to wherever, Louis has resorted to some evening delights. A cup of tea and a cigarette kept him company as he stared into the garden, watching a bird fly from one tree branch to another.

The whole day had been shit. He'd managed to hold it together in front of his daughter, but otherwise his composure slacked heavily.

He was pissed at Lestat for his hypocritical reaction and the fighting. He was also mad at himself for having brought on this situation in the first place.

The past few days, he'd really tried to keep Armand off his mind. Every time he’d caught himself grabbing his phone and starting to type a message to him, he forced himself to stop, to breathe, and think.

It surely was best for all if he'd just let these inconvenient feelings die. Better for him and Lestat, for Armand, probably, and no doubt for the kids.

Yet… deep in his heart, he didn't want to. It felt so good … the warm feeling in his body when he thought about Armand. The tingle down his spine when he thought about the softness of his skin…

With a sigh, Louis sipped his tea, trying to let the calming effect of it wash over him.

With little success.

Putting his cup down, Louis peeked at his phone, wishing he had the freedom of just -

The screen lit up. A new message.

Almost knocking over the teapot, he reached for it and opened it, his heart starting to hammer in his chest when he saw who it was from.

From: Armand

To: Louis

Hello, Louis. I just wanted to ask if you are well, since you seemed so upset when we met in the morning. I would be glad to hear from you.

Louis' smile widened with every word.

Armand had reached out - it wasn't Louis’ fault then for not being strong enough to withstand!

Or at least that's what he told himself as he hit the text field, typing his reply.

Lestat had escaped Louis’ silent treatment when he could bear it no longer. He'd taken the car to drive to the harbour, where he now walked along the waterside, contemplating his life choices. 

When his feet got tired, he sat down on a bench, throwing his head back to stare at the stars. Or at least those few he could see through the light smog. Many people thought him uncaring, vain, cold, even -he knew that. They only saw the Lestat he presented to the world, the version for whom insecurity was a foreign word.

He didn't blame them.

He knew the truth about himself - the emotional instability, all the cracks of his psyche he'd tried to hide all his life.

And now, even Louis -

A tear rolled down his cheek.

The vibration of his phone shocked him out of his sappiness. Quickly, he grabbed it, hoping for a message from his husband, and deflated when he saw the name.

Esmee.

From: Esmee

To: Lestat

Hi - hope I’m not disturbing you. But I remembered that I forgot to send you the link. It's a big ass website with a lot of good and helpful information.

Xoxo

The phone vibrated again, and a second message came, containing a link to what supposedly was a polyamory info site.

Lestat stared at it grimly - but then his features softened.

He could at least …look at it. Looking at it wasn't forbidden. 

When he, after an hour of sitting there and reading, returned to his car, Lestat’s thoughts were more conflicted than before, but he was less confused about his feelings.

He wasn't sure what was better.

Chapter Text

The past few weeks went by entirely too fast for Armand’s taste.

His sense of time had never been great, but hadn’t it been just yesterday that Daniel had had his first day of school - how was it now just one day before Halloween?

It didn’t feel fair for someone of his financial status to complain, but his work had hit a rough pitch, forcing him to double his workload to fix things. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Daniel. Armand’s patience and parenting skills felt like they were tested daily. He didn’t like that he couldn’t take the time to explain things to his son or check in with him as often - or even, just spend time. He tried to shift meetings around, so most of it would happen while Daniel was at school, but it wasn’t always possible. Armand hated himself for letting him down, but it couldn’t be helped. Things would smooth over once work’s demands lessened, he was sure of that. 

At least his son was making progress in school quite rapidly now - academically and socially. Daniel hadn’t found other friends yet, but by what he was told, Armand could assume that that would happen, given a bit more time.

“And then the teacher brought candy for the whole class and he read us a spooky story!”

Armand shook himself back to the present and looked at Daniel with a smile. It was nice to hear him talking about it so fondly and with excitement - it also slightly overwhelmed him.
They were sitting at the dining table, sharing a pizza they’d ordered in. A short school day before he got two days off, pizza for dinner - Armand was sure that Daniel couldn’t be happier. Armand was happy too, to not have to cook after an exhausting day.

“Is my costume finished?” Daniel asked, pulling Armand’s attention once again to the passage of time. Halloween, tomorrow, right. Plans had been made for Daniel and Claudia to go trick-or-treating together, with Armand, Lestat and Louis accompanying them. 

Daniel had begged Armand to buy him the same “cool vampire costume” that Claudia had, so they could look like twins - a thought that warmed Armand’s heart. 

He had been hesitant. He didn’t want Daniel to get accustomed to get everything he wanted because they were financially - … They were rich, yes. They didn’t go parading with the fact. Compared to their top 2 % counterparts, they could pass as an upper middle class family if nobody looked too closely.
Armand wanted Daniel to have some humility - he would be damned, if he were raising another nepo-baby. 

The costume wasn’t even that expensive, all things considered, but it was never about spending the money. Rather about building a conscience about how, when and why to spend the money. 

Daniel had worn him down eventually.

Armand smiled, setting down the piece of pizza he was about to bite into.
“It arrived today. You can - No, Danny, sit back down. First we eat, then you get ready for bed - and then you can try it on.”

He had never seen Daniel inhale his dinner like this.

Later in the evening, after finally getting Daniel to bed - the excitement about Halloween having kept him up longer than usual - Armand flopped down onto the couch, turning on a true crime podcast and closing his eyes for a moment. He tried to let go of the stress of the day - so his mind wandered to his latest interactions with Louis. And Lestat. 

After Armand had written Louis that one night, on a whim really - in all truth, a whim he worked himself up to fulfilling for two hours - their communication was…good. They sent messages back and forth often, talking about their kids, work, about geopolitical issues. They sent each other funny YouTube videos, but also video essays about philosophy that neither of them had time to watch. The thought counted.
They also talked about personal things - in a way that sometimes bordered on flirting. Maybe it was flirting, but Armand was really bad at reading the signs, especially over text. A part of him wished that Louis would state his intentions - he didn’t like to be toyed with like this. Another part scolded him for that very same thought. He was probably imagining everything - that- yes, that was surely the case, and he wasn’t only telling this to himself because that was the safer thought to explore. Totally not.

They’d seen each other a few times, either in their therapist’s office or revolving around picking up or dropping off their kids, whenever an employee was unavailable to drive them.

Their gazes always lingered then, just long enough to be just by accident, but still short enough to stay within the realms of acceptable behaviour.

Armand sighed with a lovesick smile when he thought about Louis…
Louis… and Lestat.

With Lestat, it was totally different. While the energy between Louis and himself felt easy and calm, like floating down a river in a moonlit night, the energy between himself and Lestat was more akin to… wildwater rafting.
Excitement, a certain push and pull. Their conversations gave him a certain high, but he never knew if the current wouldn’t drag him under the next moment. 

They were exchanging messages about music, about theatre, and sometimes about personal matters as well. Not too terribly deeply, they weren’t doing any traumabonding - but Armand could sense that with Lestat, he felt more at ease to let that mask slip, when it came to him feeling down or overwhelmed.

They were so different and sometimes Armand caught himself wondering how it happened that those two were married with a child. He hated himself for thinking it, for feeling it but - he was jealous. Jealous that they had each other, while Armand had no one. At least - not like that.

With a groan, he sat up and grabbed his phone to stop the podcast. Had he even heard a single word of it?

A notification caught his attention - one new message from Lestat. 

From: Lestat

To: Armand

We did our costume fittings today … 

Armand was met with the sight of a selfie, showing Lestat and Louis in stereotypical vampire costumes, looking goofily into the camera, their plastic fangs on display.

He giggled, actually giggled , and replied.

I am getting scared … should I start running?

From: Lestat

To: Armand

Why, scared what happens when we catch you? ;)

Armand stared at his phone and exhaled. He read the message again, and again, until the words seemed laser-printed into his brain. 

He had no idea what to answer. 

This was … direct. More than anything that had been exchanged between them so far. He stared at the ceiling for a minute, before he smirked and typed the, in his eyes, perfect retort.

I am not that worried. True vampires live incognito and only bite in the dark… 

From: Lestat

To: Armand

Do they now? How do you know I am not a vampire pretending to be a human pretending to be a vampire?

Armand grinned and his fingers flew quickly over the screen now.

Because my vampiric senses are telling me so.

From: Lestat

To: Armand

Oh, it is like this, I see. What a blatant lie! Wait until I fly over there and show you my teeth!

Armand didn’t really think about the implications of what he was answering, he was simply having fun playing this little game.

I thought vampires need to get invited in? You have not set foot in my house before.

From: Lestat

To: Armand

Well, that can be arranged … 

Armand almost dropped his phone onto his face.

Was that - was he saying -

That - 

No. 

But … 

Images flooded his head, images of Lestat coming into his house, dressed in that vampire costume with that satisfied grin on his lips… Armand wanted to kiss that away. He also wanted to do other things, things that would end up with Lestat dressed in nothing at all and -

That was not good. He shouldn’t think like this. A bit of harmless joking around in a flirty tone, sure, that was maybe acceptable. But what was running through Armand’s mind now, was far from it.

He sat up, phone clutched to his chest, and as he did so, he noticed his body being -

Cold shower. He needed a cold shower. 

The next morning, Armand slept longer than usual, only waking up when he felt someone shake him by his shoulder. Startled, he ripped his eyes open, heart pumping fast, and he started running through his options. Should he fight? Should he flee? …Freeze?

“Dad! Wake up!” Daniel said, drawing out the last syllable.

Oh. 
Armand closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, telling his body to calm down. When he felt the tension dissipating, he turned to his side and looked at his son, who was already wearing his vampire costume. When he raised a brow, Daniel grinned.

“It’s Halloween!”

“Yes - but you cannot wear it the whole day, Danny. We need to put up the decorations, drive to the store and … something else, what was it?”

“Carve a pumpkin!” 

“Yes. Right. Your costume could get dirty during all that.”

“Oh,” Daniel said, his little face morphing into a concentrated expression. 

“Okay! I -  can I keep the cape?”

Armand sighed and nodded.

“But only the cape! Go change now… I tell you what. Whoever’s first in the kitchen for breakfast, gets to choose his pumpkin.”

Daniel flapped his arms excitedly and ran off. Armand could hear his door close with a thump. 

If Rashid had still been sleeping, he’d certainly be awake now.

Armand slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, and went once again through the mental list in his brain. It was a busy day, as holidays tend to be, for the adults at least. 

That reminded him -
He took his phone to check the time.
It was 9:36 am. Still morning and early enough for their plans, but he did have to put some speed into it.

After throwing on some clothes and brushing his hair, Armand waited until he heard the footsteps of Daniel running down the stairs through the hallway. He followed, only starting to walk faster, half-running, when he saw his son - dressed in jeans and a t-shirt under his cape - lingering at the kitchen door.

“I can still win! Just wait and you will see me turn into The Flash -”

With a giggle, Daniel stepped through the doorway, sticking out his tongue at Armand, who put on a mock frown before joining Daniel’s laugh.

“I won!” Daniel exclaimed. “I get to choose the pumpkin!”

“Yes,” Armand said, walking into the room and towards the bread cabinet, “good job, you.”

While making breakfast, he thought about how nice it was to spend more time with his son like this. Rashid was only occasionally working for them now - he needed to prepare for university, find accommodations … Of course Armand let him stay here during all this. He was a bit like family. To Daniel, he surely was. 

But that meant more responsibilities that fell on Armand, added to his job which could get unpredictable sometimes. Secretly he doubted, that he would manage it. He really should find an employee to help with housework and childcare. Oh, and drive Daniel around, when Armand was unavailable.
Being a single parent was hard, money made it less hard. Sue him.

After their breakfast, which was pretty unexciting compared to what Armand sometimes liked to prepare, Armand grabbed his bag, his jacket, keys and sunglasses and walked to the garage, Daniel just behind him. 

After checking that the shopping list on his phone was complete with everything they needed, they got into the car and made their way to the store.

It was only when they rolled onto the parking lot, that Armand suddenly remembered that they’d forgotten to brush their teeth - oh well. He never claimed to be perfect at all that. They could do that later, still.

The inside of the store reminded Armand of the nine circles of hell. 

People were blocking the aisles, leaving their shopping carts abandoned somewhere to go off and run for something they’d previously forgotten. Kids were crying, the music blaring loudly from the speakers. 

He would survive it, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. He definitely needed to plan a longer lunch break to reset. 

Daniel didn’t seem fazed by the amount of people. And although the cape on his back was supposed to be that of a vampire, the way he wriggled his way through the aisles to help Armand with picking up the groceries reminded him of a superhero.
He surely was Armand’s superhero in that moment. 

If Armand had been better at planning all this, he wouldn’t have forgotten about the existence of Halloween until a week prior, wouldn’t have procrastinated the shopping until the last moment. Maybe they could have come here when the store was emptier. It was his own damn fault and now he needed to sit with it.
Armand once again looked at his list, crossing off what they already had in their cart.

October 31st

• Pumpkins small x2

• Coconut milk

• Onions

• Chickpea cans x2

• Sweets (different ones)

• Toilet paper

• Caffeine free coke

The empty spaces were for all the things he’d surely forgotten to note in the first place. 

“Dad, don’t we need new shampoo and conditioner?”
Point proven. 

Home.
Finally, they were home. Unloading the shopping bags, which were heavier than the list would suggest, into the kitchen, Armand walked straight into the living room and laid on the couch, dangling his feet over the edge. 

Of course, Daniel didn’t show any signs of reduced energy, so Armand sent him into the garden to play - for that without the cape - and his son gladly complied.

Rest. Armand really needed rest now. 

His phone began to ring. With a heavy sigh and an eyeroll, he picked it from his pocket, answering without looking who the caller was.

“Armand Ducat, hello?”

“Salut, Armand. Lestat here.”

“Oh, hey, Lestat!” Armand said, feeling his cheeks warm up slightly.

“I am calling to inform you that Louis has fallen ill - nothing dramatic. But he will not be able to come this evening.”

Armand felt disappointment clouding over him, his stomach twisting into a knot.

“I see. I hope he gets better soon. I am not sure how to tell Daniel, that we cannot meet up with you in the evening, but -”

“What?”

“Well, Louis is ill -”

“Oui. But I never said, that we wish to cancel our plans. I will accompany Claudia alone.”

Armand didn’t know whether to be relieved or to feel more nervousness making his skin crawl. 

“Oh, my mistake. Apologies.”

“None warranted.” Lestat answered in a tone that seemed way too sugary.

“So, it will stay like it was discussed? 6 pm, in your driveway?”

“Oui.”

"Excellent. Then I will see you-”

“Attendez un peu!”* Lestat interrupted his goodbyes.

“I wanted to ask you … Since Louis cannot attend, his costume has to hang all lonely in our wardrobe … unless…”

“No.” Armand said, foreseeing how the question would end. Lestat ignored him.

“You said that you do not have a costume. You could wear Louis’. I am sure that with a few alterations to your measurements, it could fit you…well.”

“Lestat …” Armand said, sighing, but secretly being quite amused about this.

“Come on! S’il te plaît. S'il te plaît, je t'en prie, je t'en supplie!”*

It was probably the whiny tone of his voice, combined with the image his phrasing evoked in Armand’s mind, that made him say yes, in the end. 

After their call ended, Armand tried to get back to resting, but it was impossible. With the knowledge of him going to be alone with Lestat - well, with the kids, but they wouldn’t be glued to their sides - all evening, made his heart flutter with … With what?

Nervousness? Excitement? Or …
Oh. 

No, but - 

This time, Armand knew there was no chance of explaining it away. He had another crush. He was falling for not only Louis, but Lestat as well.
He only hoped the crush wouldn’t turn into a crash.

Chapter Text

One short rest, two carved pumpkins, one pot of pumpkin curry for lunch and putting out sweets and decorations later, Armand and Daniel were on their way to Louis’ and Lestat’s house. Rashid had offered to drive, but Armand politely declined. He didn’t know when they would get home and he’d rather avoid a situation like after the barbecue and also, he liked driving. It made him feel calm and focused, and who knew how much of that he’d still get when being around Lestat?

Speaking of…

Armand parked the car in the driveway, and got out, helping Daniel, fully dressed in his costume, with the seatbelt. Whenever Daniel was that excited, his motor skills weren’t exactly the greatest. They’d really needed to start occupational therapy again. Those plans had been put on hold with everything going on at school.

With a giddy Daniel next to him, Armand walked to the front door and rang the bell.

The door opened almost immediately. 

“Ah, hello!” Lestat said, leaning against the doorframe with a smile on his lips, before eyeing both Armand and Daniel.

“You look good.” He added, pointing at Daniel’s costume but drifting his eyes towards Armand’s face.

While Armand was averting his eyes, Daniel grinned and pointed at Lestat in return.

“You are a vampire too!”

“That is right. And you know what? Your dad will also become one!”

Armand blushed slightly and raised his brows - he hadn’t been entirely sure if Lestat had really meant it with the costume, but this statement seemingly confirmed it.

“Really??? Dad, you said you don’t do costumes -”

“We kept it as a surprise.” Lestat said, before Armand could answer anything.
“The costume is in the guest bathroom, in this hallway, the last door.” 

Armand nodded and after Lestat made way, hesitantly stepped inside the house.
“Where is Claudia?” Daniel asked, jumping slightly from one foot to the other, his eyes wandering all around the decorated entrance.
“Oh, she is upstairs in her room, she said she wanted to prepare something. You can go to her.”

Daniel didn’t wait until he’d finished, already having started running towards the stairs.

“Careful!” Armand called after him, before closing the front door, being only a metre apart from Lestat now.

“I will…. I will change into the costume then,” he mumbled, trying to avoid the chance of an incriminating situation happening. 

“Take your time!” He heard Lestat’s voice behind him.

“I want to check on Louis one last time, then I will join you.”

Armand stopped, turned around and raised a brow in question.
“...join me?” He asked, looking at the bathroom door and back at Lestat.

“Not in the bathroom,” Lestat said with an eyeroll and Armand let out a chuckle, until -

“There is simply not enough space in there for two.”

Lestat smirked at Armand’s flustered reaction and watched him walk to the bathroom door. It was endearing, how easily he could toy with him, provoke these reactions.
But - 

Enough play, for now. 

His Louis needed him.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a fresh water bottle from the fridge, alongside some earlier diced cucumber and carrot pieces. Carrying that upstairs with a cape on wasn’t that easy - but due to his role in Hamilton, he had perfected the fully straightened out, stoic walk.

Smiling as he heard laughter coming from Claudia’s room, he passed it and walked to their bedroom, somehow managing to get the door open with two hands full.

“Louis?” He asked quietly, making his way through the darkened room until he was at Louis' side of the bed, placing the food and water on the nightstand. He crouched down, to meet Louis at eye level.
His husband was curled up on his side, the blanket covering him up to his chin. Slowly, Louis opened his eyes, blinking a few times, lids heavy with exhaustion.

“Hmm?” He asked in a voice so small, that it hurt Lestat to hear it. 

“I have brought you some light food, and water … I know you are nauseous, but try to eat a little, s’il te plaît?”

“Will try,” was all he got as an answer. Lestat sighed and then softly kissed Louis’ temple, before getting up again.

“Armand and Daniel are here and we will leave shortly. I am putting my phone on loud, if you need something. Rest, mon cher.” He informed him, before quickly and quietly exiting the room. 

When Louis had one of his migraine attacks, it was hard for him to communicate and Lestat knew it, but he still wished Louis would tell him what he needed, so Lestat could provide - he would move the world for him. 

Last night, Louis had complained about feeling ‘a little funny’, but they both thought that was caused by the mindblowing sex they’d had shortly before. 

When Louis woke up in the morning with a starting headache and the first thing he had to do was run to the bathroom to keel over the toilet, stomach cramping, they instantly knew it hadn’t been that.

It took thirty minutes to convince Louis to halt his plans of “pushing through” and instead return to bed, and another thirty to console Louis over the fact that he wouldn’t be able to spend Halloween with his family.
After he’d settled a bit and Lestat provided the necessary atmosphere for him to survive what his body would throw at him, it had been Louis’ suggestion to let Armand wear his costume.

“‘Tis no good, getting crinkles in the wardrobe. Should be worn. He’d match you and the kids.”

“Yes, but -”

“Do I wish I could come with you and wear it? Hell yeah. But that won’t happen, I’m lucky if I make it until then without more retching. Call him, Les.”

And so, the plan was made. 

It wasn't ideal, leaving Louis at home in this state, alone - but it couldn't be helped. They both wanted Claudia to have a fun Halloween, and a guilty part of Lestat was secretly happy to spend some time with Armand, without worrying about what went on in Louis’ mind about him.

Time to get the children.

Before Lestat could even knock against Claudia's door, the door flung open wide.

“Can we go?” Claudia asked, clutching her candy basket to her chest.

Lestat looked at her fingernails, which were painted in dark red.

“Where did you get this from?” He asked, not sure if he liked his daughter experimenting with nail polish already.

“Friend at school. I painted Daniel's nails too!” She added and Lestat's gaze wandered to Daniel, who looked at his own nails with a smile.

Lestat sighed.

“Looks good - and yes, mon petit fleur, we can go.”

After descending the stairs, they were met with the sight of Armand, wearing the costume, picking and prodding at the fabric in various places.

While his waistcoat was still a bit too loose, despite the added safety pins, the belt and pins for the pants made them sit well - albeit being a bit too short. The way the cape lay around his shoulders made him look rather elegant. Coming closer, Lestat noticed Armand's eye make up - dark eyeshadow and kohl. 

He looked like a treat waiting to be devoured.

Maybe it was shameless, the way he undressed Armand with his gaze, but he'd never been one to be shy about showing others what he liked.

These past weeks of exchanging messages had made Lestat change his mind about the whole “he's not a friend yet” shtick. It was nice to get to know someone new, and there was something so alluring to Armand… He certainly wasn't an uncomplicated person. Lestat liked that.

The reason he'd started to approach him socially had been his jealousy, at first - he'd wanted to see what was so special about the man that made Louis reconsider their monogamy.

And reconsidering … They had done a lot, especially during the last week.

Something inside of Lestat was delighted by the idea of free love, of holding it for more than one person. But another part of him was scared about the possibility of having to share Louis.

What if his husband started to like Armand more, found it easier to be with him? What if his Louis would leave him?

Time and time again Louis had answered that he wouldn't, that Lestat needn't worry, but these were just words. Judging by his own actions in the past, how he'd lied to Louis about ending his affairs, how could he be sure Louis meant it?

At the same time, Lestat was selfish. Seeing Armand now, looking sinfully hot, how could he resist?

He would keep to the agreement, though. Platonic and flirty touches - yes. Anything beyond was a no for now. No kissing, no wandering hands, no fucking.

Lestat swallowed.

He was a civilised person, not an animal. He could do this.

Would have to, for the sake of everyone.

Armand had caught Lestat's stare and it had made certain thoughts flare up in his mind. Not wanting to give Lestat the satisfaction of blushing, he'd turned towards the kids, snapping a few photos of them posing in silly ways in the hallway.

It was harder to ignore now that they were walking side by side down the pavement, with Daniel and Claudia far enough ahead of them to mind their own conversation.

“I always liked Halloween. It is like an outdoor theatre performance, with everyone improvising and the audience being on stage as well.”

Armand nodded at that - he got what Lestat was saying.

“It is interesting, certainly. Especially in this country.”

“Oui. In France, we never had whole streets of houses decorated, but it has been a while since I emigrated. You have lived there more recently, has it changed?”

“I would not call it recent. And I did not pay too much attention, Daniel was too little to go trick-or-treating, so it did not matter much.”

Approaching the third house on their tour, they stayed back a few paces from Daniel and Claudia, who were ringing the bell. Their children were old enough to do this by themselves, with their parents staying in the background, only interfering if needed.

“I hated this part, as a child.” Lestat said, making Armand turn towards him with a surprised expression.

“You? I would have thought that a theatre kid like you enjoyed the performance?”

“I was a shy boy. Hey, do not laugh - it is the truth!”

“Sorry,” Armand said, chuckling about the thought of Lestat of all being displaying shyness. It died out, when Lestat asked a question in return.

“Did you like Halloween? As a child?”

“Not quite…” Armand admitted, omitting the details. Halloween, like many holidays, had been the worst times. Images of men in costumes, gifting him candy before abusing his body, glimmered somewhere in his subconscious. He shook it off.

“It was difficult. I only learned to appreciate its good sides when Daniel was old enough to participate in any festivities.”

He felt Lestat's gaze linger on him, and almost jolted when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No I - no worries. I am fine.”

“Are you?” Lestat asked, rubbing Armand’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

Armand swallowed and looked down.

“Why do you ask?”

“It is in your eyes. The stare. Half-blank, half-apocalyptic. “

Armand didn't answer, and instead watched Daniel and Claudia holding up their baskets, as an elderly woman gave them more candy than warranted.

Lestat took away his hand and Armand missed it immediately. It has been nice to get some physical contact like this, even if he wasn't sure what “like this” exactly meant in their case.

Thankfully, Lestat didn’t push for him to answer and instead switched topics.

“The children are getting along so well. I haven’t seen Claudia have a friendship quite like this before.”
Armand nodded along with every word.
“It is special, yes. One could only hope to experience this as an adult.”

They continued their tour, and the more sweets landed in the children’s baskets, the more giddy Armand became. They were talking about this and that, Lestat made jokes that were really stupid but Armand laughed anyway, because the way Lestat told them made him feel good.
At one house, the inhabitant insisted on giving the adults some sweets too - which made Armand feel strange, but also happy. He supposed that in another mood it would have been triggering, but how could he think about his past, when it was so endearing to see Lestat frown about the amount he got?
“This isn’t fair. Why did you get more than me?” He pouted, as they left the front porch, headed back towards the street. 

Armand couldn’t help but chuckle. There was an energy surging through him that he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Is the big scary vampire upset about not getting all the candy he wanted? Poor dear.” He said, reaching out to squeeze Lestat’s cheek like people did with children sometimes. 

But Lestat didn’t bat his hand away, like he’d expected to - so he ended up touching his skin, feeling the warmth underneath it. Lestat’s pout turned into a gasp and his gaze pierced Armand’s eyes, as if he was staring into his soul. 

Armand’s first instinct was to shy away, to blush and run - but he had been working lately at becoming bolder with people, bolder with what he wanted.

So, he endured, merely swallowing his nervousness, before he continued to talk.

“I didn’t hear an answer?”

Now Lestat sprang into action again, his lips parting to mumble a few words. Would he bite at Armand’s attempt to flirt, or would he pull away?

“What - …You -  That’s not fair.”

Armand raised a brow and removed his hand, turning to check on the kids - they were standing at the pavement, comparing their bounty, so all good. He turned back and smirked.

“Look, if you want me to share some of mine, all you have to do is ask.”

Now, Lestat grinned back, a hint of cheekiness coming into his expression.

“Make me.”

Oh. Armand didn’t know what to say, but he did know what to do. With a quick movement, he snatched Lestat’s candy from his waistcoat pocket, putting it into his own.

Lestat stared at him, wide eyes - and Armand giggled.

“Seems like you now have to ask to get any . Don’t look at me like a wet kitten. You started this.”

And as if this whole situation hadn’t happened, Armand turned away and continued to walk towards Daniel and Claudia, leaving Lestat standing there for a second, before he came running after him.

“That was not nice. You’re a true gremlin, you know?”

Armand chuckled again, then fixed Lestat with an amused stare.

“And you’re a brat. 

Lestat joined him in his chuckling.
“You think you’re the first person to say that to me?”

“No. I am sure you have heard that plenty. You could try behaving for a change?”

“Never in a million lifetimes.”

Armand felt pure desire surge through him and he had to turn away and keep walking to not jump Lestat then and there.
“We could see about that. But there are a lot of houses left and I do not think our children would be too happy to wait for our banter to go on forever. Come, let us spook the neighbours - maybe you’ll get more candy if you try to be scarier.”

By the whine Lestat let out, Armand knew he was right about what he thought about the developing dynamics.
1:0 for him.
He just hoped things would clear up a bit. He didn’t want to participate in infidelity. But really, it was Louis’ and Lestat’s responsibility to deal with that, no? Why should he hold back when Lestat was clearly flirting, and enjoyed it when Armand retaliated? 

After they returned from trick-or-treating, with two happy but tired kids, baskets so overstuffed that they certainly didn’t need to buy sweets again until Christmas, Armand quickly changed into his regular clothes. As he walked towards Lestat to hand back the costume, he brushed his own hand against his, urging him to hold out his palm. With a smile, he gave Lestat his candy back, plus some of his own. 

With Daniel already in the car and Claudia somewhere else in the house, they stood alone now in the darkened hallway.
“I enjoyed the evening.” Armand said, ready to turn and head out - when Lestat surprised him.

“Me too,” he said, and leaned forward, giving Armand a little friendly kiss on his cheek. Armand blushed profusely, and stammered something akin to ‘Good night’, before almost running to the car. 

Lestat’s lips were so soft - he wanted - he wanted -

He wanted. 

And if that wouldn’t be the downfall of the friendship that had just begun.

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since Halloween. 

Two busy weeks. Lestat’s rehearsals have picked up so he was in the theatre more, leading to less time for affectionate moments or… sex. 

Louis was pent up. It didn’t help that each time he looked at Armand, primal urges seemed to crawl to the surface.
Of course he didn’t show that, or at least he hoped he didn’t.
Lestat and him were communicating more openly now, more than ever before perhaps. He’d told Louis about Halloween, about the flirtations and it evoked mixed feelings inside Louis. On the one hand, the thought of Armand teasing his husband seemed cute, and the description of how Armand had looked in his costume he’d enjoyed very much.
On the other hand… He was jealous. And the most fucked up thing was, that he wasn’t only jealous about his husband seeking out someone else, no. He was jealous that Lestat was the first one of them to be more direct with him. 

Polyamory… was it worth a try? What would it do to him and Lestat, to Claudia, their family? He didn’t know Armand that well. He could be as toxic as Lestat had been in the past. Louis didn’t need more toxicity in his life. But then… he hadn’t picked up on any red flags so far. Was he worrying too much?

He sighed, and folded the last piece of laundry. Just as he was about to pick up the pile, his phone rang, causing him to drop it back on the coffee table. It took him a bit to sort that out and grab his phone and when he looked at the display, he smiled - an unexpected caller, but a welcome one. 

“You been takin’ forever to pick up, Louis!”

“Who’s there?”

“Ain’t foolin’ nobody. You gon’ tell me you don’t know your favourite girl’s voice?”

“Come on, you know I was just playin’. Good to hear from ya, Lily.”

“You serious, hun? You know it’s ‘bout time you hear me. How long it’s been? Three months and ain’t got no call from you?”

“Hey, we been textin’, ain’t no need to be yellin’ at me.”

“That’s somethin’ else. We said we gon’ check in on each other. Had me all kinds of worried.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, Lils. Was a busy time.”

“Mhmm. Okay but you gon’ keepin’ to that promise in the future, you hear me?”

“Yeah. You done complainin’ now? Wanna hear ‘bout how we doin’ here in San Francisco?”

“Shoot.”

While Louis told Lily about their life, how it’s been with work and Claudia’s school and everything, he moved around, needing to get some excess energy off. With the phone on speaker and no one else at home it was easy to do chores. Especially when he could talk to his best friend. Leaving her behind had been one of the downsides of moving away. 

“You made new friends yet?” 

Louis took a moment to answer, not entirely sure what to tell her about that topic. 

“Not many. Lestat’s work friends ain’t too bad. And-” He stopped, opening Claudia’s wardrobe to sort her clothes in.

“And? You gonna leave me hangin’?”

Louis sighed.

“There’s this guy. Armand. His son goes to school with Claw. Been meetin’ up a few times, Lestat and him been takin’ the kids trick-or-treatin’ on Halloween.”

“He a white Frenchie too?”

“Nah, he’s brown, but yeah he has been growing up in France. Was born somewhere else though, cause he been tellin’ me French ain’t his original native language.”

“Sounds enough like French to me. What you doin’ runnin’ away from NOLA and still busy bein’ a magnet for Frenchies? Tell me ‘bout him, Armand. He good to you?”

Yielding to her inquisitive nature, Louis told her all about Armand, their encounters, and his feelings towards him. His feelings towards their situation.

“Oh my, Louis. You always gon’ chase after difficult situations?”

“Ain’t my fault he cute like that.” 

“You shoulda told me earlier. Sounds like you be fallin’ madly in love with him.”

"Ain’t gon’ be like that -”

“Wrong, Louis. Was talkin’ like that when you fell for Lestat. Bad case of denial.”

“Lils -”

“Now hear me - if you ain’t tryin’, you gon’ be sad ‘bout it forever. Just be doin’ what other couples do. Have sex ‘bout him, have sex with him. Ain’t gotta be any ties.”

“You with Lestat on that one?”

“Ain’t sayin’ you gotta treat him like a one night stand, Louis. But come on. Y’all ain’t blushin’ virgins. Gotta grow up and talk and if talkin’ ain’t helpin’, fuckin’ might.”

It sounded so crude, but in a way, Louis knew she was right. Why were they all acting as if they were a conservative pack of celibates? He wanted Armand, Lestat wanted Armand, Armand wanted them both. Shouldn’t they just indulge? Maybe he’d been approaching this all the wrong way. And if they met up with Armand together, there couldn’t be jealousy, right? This didn’t sound exactly like what Lestat had read him from that poly website, but, small steps, huh?

“Thanks, Lils. Gon’ be thinkin’ ‘bout this.”

They talked some more, for about twenty minutes. It was good to hear what Lily was up to, how her club was running. Louis and her had been friends since middle school. She’d been there for Louis when he had his queer awakening, when he had fights with his parents, when his father died - and when Paul died. 

He’d helped her get out of her abusive relationship, connected her with Brick Tops so she could get a job. To summarize - they’d been through some shit together. Could always rely on each other.

That night, when Lestat came home from the theatre, Louis waited for him in the living room, notebook open with the polyamory website. It didn’t escape him how similar this scene was to the night after the barbecue - but this time, he hadn’t touched alcohol, wasn’t in a devastated mood. He had hope, even. Hope, that they could talk this out, that they could come to an agreement that would be beneficial for all of them. 

After Armand had picked up Daniel from his OT session, they stopped on their way home for some groceries - driving to the other side of the town because that store wasn’t as full as those near them. Usually. Today it seemed to be his unlucky day.
So, when they were home and Daniel set up for homework, Armand treated himself to a long, hot bath, trying to get some relaxation. 

After he’d soaked a bit, he grabbed his phone, wanting to play some soothing game, like candy crush. It came in handy that it was waterproof so he didn’t have to worry about dropping it in the tub.
Which he almost did, when a message came in.

From: Louis
To: Armand

Hey Armand. Can we meet up and talk, soon? With Lestat. 

Armand’s heart sank as he read the message. That didn’t sound good. No emoji, and “talk” didn’t sound like fun. Was this about Halloween? Had he overstepped? If so, then Lestat had overstepped too, right?

He could feel his skin crawl with anxiety, panic starting up inside, making his heart race. He should have known that this wouldn’t work out, that he would ruin everything he -

Another message from Louis came in, snatching his attention.

It’s nothing bad. It’s good, I think. Just get everyone on the same page about this, you know?

Armand let out a tiny breath of relief. Maybe nothing was destroyed - maybe he could fix things, still. In his current mindset, he was almost unable to think about the good part of the message too much. If it wasn’t about Halloween, about infidelity… What was it about?
With slightly shaking hands, he typed a reply.

On the same page about what?

Louis didn’t answer, so he put his phone away with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. He wished things could be uncomplicated for once… 

It was not until later, when he was already in bed, set to end the day, when his phone flared up with messages again.

He’d been thrown into a group chat - with Louis and Lestat. Armand swallowed and stared at the three moving dots, as Lestat typed something.

Armand would you come over, tomorrow? I don’t have to work then. You could bring Daniel, we’d all have dinner, send the kids off to play, so we adults can talk about … adult matters. 

Dinner?
Suddenly, all the tiredness left Armand’s body.
He sat up straight in bed, clutching his phone tightly, a thousand thoughts shooting through his mind.
Adult matters … was this what he thought this could be about? This -
He wasn’t sure if he could do that. The thought of sitting at the table with Louis, Lestat, Claudia and Daniel like an extended family made him -

Oh. It evoked dread, but also…happiness?
He’d be glad if his mind could decide in which directions his feelings were going because this dichotomy was causing additional stress.

He could say no, of course -  he didn’t believe that they would be mad at him for declining their invitation. He could lie. Say that he didn’t have time, that he had other plans. But a small part of him was also excited. Excited about what could happen if -

I can make time. When should we be there?

I can make time. When should we be there?

Lestat’s eyes lit up, when he read the message to Louis.

“He said yes! He also asked for a time… should I say at seven?”

Louis nodded, a slight smile betraying his otherwise serious expression.
“Yeah. Thanks for sending that message, I was…”

“Are you unsure about this, Louis?”

Lestat treaded his fingers through Louis’ coils, enjoying the weight of his head in his lap. 

Louis closed his eyes and sighed.

“Of course I am. But not– not like that. I want this. I do. It’s a new situation and that’s not easy. With our history…”

“I know.” Lestat said, pressing his lips tightly together afterwards to prevent himself from saying something unruly. Louis had the right to speak about past feelings, about Lestat’s wrongdoings. He couldn’t take that away from him each time, for peace’s sake. Fake peace, to be correct.

“I don’t think you have to worry too much, Mon Cher. We’re in this together, are we not?”

When Louis opened his eyes and looked up at Lestat warmly, he smiled right back.

“We are. Yeah. Love you, Les.”

Lestat bowed down to kiss Louis’ lips gently, pouring his heart into it.

When he came back up, his heart felt light, his soul warm with affection.

“Je t’aime aussi, Louis.”

When Armand woke up in the morning and looked at the clock on his nightstand, he nearly fell out of bed.
Merde, he must have overheard the alarm - had he even set it?
This wasn’t good. He hastingly threw on some clothes and darted out of his room, knocking on Daniel’s door.

“Daniel! Are you up? We are running late-”

To his utter surprise, Daniel opened the door, standing before him fully dressed, his backpack dangling from his hands in front of him.

Armand didn’t know what to say at first. This was strange - truly strange. His son was never on time in the morning, it was always a hassle to urge him to get ready. Something was up. Nevertheless - he should probably praise him for being so self-sufficient today.

“Wow, look at you. Well done, Danny. You are more dressed than I am!” He said and laughed a little, despite his confusion.

“Morning dad. Don’t want to miss the trip to the library!”

Trip to the library? When had that - oh. Something in his mind rang.
“Right. Do you have your water bottle? Your lunchbox? I’ll run to the kitchen and make you some sandwiches. Have you brushed your teeth, combed your hair?”

Daniel blinked at him, as he recounted all that needed to be done like a squirrel on caffeine. 

Armand hated waking up too late, having to hustle to get everything managed. And if he was a teeny tiny bit excited for the evening plan, who could blame him?

“Okay,” Daniel settled on, and followed Armand to the kitchen.

“I will toast you some waffles, yes?” Armand asked, not liking that he was offering Daniel an unhealthy breakfast but it was quicker this way and sometimes he had to set priorities.

Daniel’s face lit up and he walked circles around the kitchen table, flapping his arms.

“Waffles yes! Waffles! Waffles!”

Armand smiled at that.

After finishing the sandwiches and packing them into his son's lunchbox, everything was ready for them to leave. That was, until they sat in the car and while Daniel fastened his seatbelt, he reminded Armand of one last thing.

“Do you have the signed permission slip?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck - why was he so horrible at parenting? Of course he didn't have the permission slip, he couldn't even remember where he'd put it. With a sigh, he let his head fall forward, forehead resting against the stirring wheel.

“No, Danny. But I will talk to your teachers or the secretary and sign something when we are there -”

“Dad, that's so embarrassing!” Daniel complained and well, Arnand couldn't blame him.

“I know. Sorry. But, you want to go to the library, right?” 

“Yes,” Daniel grumbled, leaning back to stare out of the window demonstratively.

The whole drive to the school they didn't speak another word.

It was on days like this that Armand doubted if he was good for Daniel, if he wasn't too broken to be a parent. It was not okay for his nine year old son to have to hold so much responsibility - he should be a child, have fun, be happy. An unburdened childhood - something Armand never had.

But when they'd arrived and Armand asked the teacher for another permission slip to sign, it was less complicated than he'd thought. She was carrying extra ones on her and it turned out that he wasn't the only one to have to ask for one, another mom also filled one out at the classroom door, smiling at Armand sympathetically.

Maybe he was overreacting.

He needed to go home, take a shower, and get his head right for work. Preferably not think too much about the evening.

So, he pushed his mind's chaos away, said goodbye to Daniel and wished him lots of fun, before leaving the school to be on his way.

The library was so cool!

Daniel wandered through the aisles, looking at all the books on the shelves. They had all kinds of stories. In the kid's section there were fairytales, sci-fi stories, fantasy and stories about vikings or knights.

Or those about animals.

He pulled one book out, a story about two birds becoming friends…

While reading the summary, he got an idea.

He could write a story himself! He always made up little stories in his mind, but he'd never tried to write them down. 

“Daniel, don’t wander off too far!” His teacher called, and he quickly returned the book. Right. Maybe not now, but he would think about writing… Maybe he could even become an author one day, and have his books between all those surrounding him now.

“Daniel!”

He shook that off and quickly ran to his teacher and other classmates. 

The trip was fun - and he was excited for the evening. They would have dinner at Claudia's house and then they could play all evening!

He had to pick what he wanted to bring…

Chapter Text

“The pasta tastes delicious,” Armand said, keeping his eyes glued to his plate, as he rolled up some spaghetti with his fork.

“Merci,” he heard Lestat say. “I made it myself. The recipe is Italian - maybe one of the few good things that got passed down to me through my family.”

That statement made Armand look up to face Lestat sitting across from him, a surprised expression flickering over his face.

“I did not know your family was from Italy.”

“Hmm,” Lestat hummed, taking a sip of his iced tea.
“Not my entire family. Only my mother.”

Something about Lestat’s tone told Armand to better not start asking questions about Lestat’s family history. He could understand that well. 

Louis, who was sitting to Armand’s right at the head of the table, subtly nodded along with Lestat’s words.
To his left, Daniel was currently busy talking with Claudia, who sat next to Lestat. Armand wasn’t sure whether to pay active attention to their conversation, for the purpose of distraction and calming his nerves, or whether to try to let it fade into the background, for some quiet and peace of mind.
In the end, neither of these options worked. At least the Carbonara melting on his tongue gave him something else to think about. It was rich in flavour - to say anything else than Lestat had outdone himself would be a lie. 

And not only the food and drinks were exquisite.
When Armand had rung the bell, holding poor Daniel’s hand - he was always a bit nervous in more ‘formal’ arrival situations - the door was opened by Louis, who was dressed in a mixture of casual and fancy. Was that the word?
Formal would be an overstatement. But he did wear a burgundy dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, over his dark jeans. Only the first few top buttons were undone, accentuating his collarbones that were peeking out from under the fabric deliciously.
The hug Louis offered Armand for a greeting didn’t help to slow his heartbeat down.

“Lestat is still in the kitchen. You’ll have to be satisfied with only me for the moment.” Louis said when pulling away again, his hand lingering on Armand’s shoulder.

“I am sure that will not be a problem.” Armand gazed into Louis’ eyes for a little too long before shaking himself back into composure. 

After stepping inside and hanging their jackets on the coat rack, Armand and Daniel were led into the dining room.

Letting his eyes sweep over the table, Armand smiled a little. It seemed they settled on moderate decoration, fitting Louis’ state of dress. A white table runner was placed down the middle with three tea lights in little dark blue jars spread out over its length.

The placemats seemed normal for a dining room - no plastic, it was cloth, but they and the cutlery and plates looked still like those one would use daily.

It calmed something in Armand. He didn't like it when people overly decorated or took out the silverware. It was like they were trying to hide something by painting over it with a display of decadence.

Armand would certainly feel overdressed himself, weren’t it for the fact that he wore dress shirts and soft, dark fabric pants every day. The one he’d picked for this occasion was one of his favourite white ones. They were all different - if one paid close enough attention, one could see the different shades. 

Louis called for Claudia then, and she came down the stairs in normal clothes - just like Daniel. Good. So no weirdness there.

There was a bit of smalltalk while everyone got settled - well, everyone, except Lestat. While Louis was busy explaining his job to Daniel, who seemed to have a sudden interest in learning about different professions, Armand walked through the archway back into the living room, from where he tried to peek into the kitchen. He couldn’t see much; the door was half closed. While he debated with himself if he should approach the room or rather pull back and stop snooping around in other people’s homes, the door to the kitchen opened fully and out came Lestat, holding a bowl of salad in front of him. When their eyes met, Armand smiled at him - it was just too adorable how Lestat stopped in his tracks, staring at Armand like a deer in headlights. 

It was too good an opportunity not to act.

“Good evening,” Armand said in a low tone, enjoying the way Lestat blinked at that.

“Hello,” the perplexed blonde finally answered after he seemingly had regained his composure. 

“I will be with you shortly - the cooking is almost done. Would you be so kind as to put this on the table?” Lestat asked while approaching, holding out the bowl to Armand.
“Of course. Looks good.” He took the bowl from Lestat.
“Wait until you see the main course.” Lestat jested and then turned around to head back into the kitchen.
And as Armand’s eyes were glued to his backside, he thought that it was not only the salad, which looked good… Lestat was wearing a blue shirt which looked like a mixture of a regular dress shirt and a blouse. It wasn’t plain - there were some silvery glitter patterns along the edges. For his pants… they were black leather.
Something that sent Armand’s neither regions into a willpower test. 

Which brought him back to the present moment.
The rest of the dinner had gone quite uneventfully. Armand learned about a new building Louis had acquired, and about the course of Lestat’s Hamilton rehearsals. 

After everyone had finished eating, the kids were squirming in their seats, eager to be excused from the table.
Louis laughed at the display.

“Okay, up with you two - go play in Claudia’s room, yeah?”

Both children nodded, and they nearly jumped from their seats to race each other towards the stairs.

“No running on the stairs!” Lestat shouted after them, and Armand could hear their footsteps slowing.

When Armand also heard Claudia’s door slam shut upstairs, he stiffened and relaxed at the same time. On the one hand, now there was nothing in the way that kept the three of them from openly flirting, not having to hide those glances anymore. But that also meant that there was nothing that kept the three of them from talking . 

“Now that the kids are gone …” Louis started, and for a split second, Armand seriously considered whether Louis could read his mind.
“Would you like some wine?”

Oh. That made more sense. 

Armand nodded. He liked the taste of it, and if he only had one glass, it wouldn't affect his mental or emotional state.

His thoughts drifted back to when they'd talked after the barbecue…it all led back to that barbecue, didn't it?

“So,” Lestat said when he returned to the room, marching to a cupboard and taking out a bottle and three glasses.

“I don't know how it is with you, but I prefer such a conversation to take place with comfort, instead of around the dinner table. Should we move to the couch area?”

Louis and Armand nodded almost simultaneously.

A few minutes later all three of them were sitting in the living room, a wine glass in hand, and nobody talked.
Armand’s favourite situation. The sarcasm was trying to lift him up, but his anxiety was pushing him further down into the spiral. And not only metaphorically - with each silent minute that passed, he sank deeper and deeper into the couch cushions. 

When someone finally talked, Armand exhaled a breath of relief.

“We -” Louis started, and then let out a little nervous laugh. 

“Lestat and me have -” He tried again, and took a little sip of his wine.

Lestat sprang to his aid. His eyes rested on Armand’s face as he talked.

“I think it is pretty evident that there is an attraction present between you and Louis - as well as between you and me.”

Armand swallowed. He straightened up a bit, hating how small he’d made himself in his seat. 

Louis said nothing - he was probably waiting for what Armand would say to that - and what should he say to that?

It was useless to deny the obvious.

“Yes.”

“Well - Louis and I have talked. We want to… open our marriage. To try and pursue… you.”

Something about the choice of words made Armand’s skin crawl. He pushed that feeling away - it wasn’t sensical. 

“I see.” He answered, not quite worked up to speaking longer sentences yet.

“Yeah,” Louis added, “and we thought it would be good to talk about this. What we want - all of us.”

If only Armand knew the answer to that prompt. 

The way they were seated made the whole situation a bit strange. Louis and Lestat were sitting on one couch, and Armand sat across from them in an armchair. It was almost like an interview of some sort. Not at all pleasant and relaxed.

Because Armand didn’t say anything, Lestat began to talk again.

“To speak precisely: We want to have sex with you.”

Oh.
Armand felt his face heat up, a blush rising up to his cheeks, and he avoided their gazes, staring at the couch table where the wine bottle stood, its red liquid looking delicious in the dimmed light. 

“And it doesn’t have to be anything too complex - there is this thing called ‘friends with benefits’ and I think we could -” Lestat began, but Louis shushed him up.

“Armand? Do you want this?”

This .
Armand hadn’t quite pictured that talk going in this direction. Friends with benefits… something inside of him ached at that thought. He knew that for him, it would be more … there were feelings, the first seeds of something akin to love growing. And he thought Louis and Lestat had felt that too…
But apparently, he was wrong. They weren’t in love with him. Why would they be? They just wanted sex. They just wanted his body. Like it had been all his life. His childhood, his teens, his twenties - it had always been the shell that was desired, not the person within it. Bitterness rose and spread throughout Armand’s heart at that, but it quickly turned into sadness. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to engage in sexual endeavours with the two men across from him, he really did. But not…like that. Or did he?
His mind felt heavy, thoughts racing too fast to grasp, the past knocking on the door to his consciousness. He took a deep breath, forced a smile, and raised his gaze to meet Louis’ and Lestat’s eyes.

“I… am not sure.”

Their reactions were different. While Louis furrowed his brows and looked at him in confusion, Lestat openly frowned, looking displeased with the answer he got.

“I don’t understand. I see how you look at us. The flirtations, it all -”

“I am sorry,” Armand said, and stood up because he couldn’t stay seated any longer. He needed to move. Walking towards the terrace door to look outside, he heard Louis interrupting Lestat again.

“Don’t be sorry. But - I am confused. Wasn’t all this leading up to that? It’s okay if you changed your mind, but you are attracted to us, right?”

Armand inhaled, then exhaled, closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he turned around, he had slipped his mask back on, carefully glued to his face, hiding his true feelings underneath it.

“I am. But I do not know whether to … I cannot say, if …” Armand started, but his words apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about masking his fears. 

In one swift motion, he emptied his wine glass, nearly choking on it, and walked to the table to put it there.

The pressure within him was heightening, and he didn’t have a vent. That wasn’t good. He needed to… Merde, al’ama, shit. He realised that his only way out of this was to flee the situation. It wasn’t fair to Daniel … But he could hardly leave him behind when he bolted for the door, could he?

He needed to invent some kind of reason to leave now , or it all would end really ugly. For everyone involved. But he was not graced with creativity that day.

“Armand, are you still -”

“I am sorry. But I have to leave now. Private reasons. The dinner was lovely, thanks for your hospitality. I will text you.” He rushed his words and then, without waiting for an answer, walked out of the living room and up the stairs, calling for his son.


Daniel was, as expected, not amused that they had to leave so soon.
His emotions exploded right there in front of Armand, Claudia, Lestat and Louis, and he was crying, and shouting how unfair that was, yelling at his dad for making false promises - and Armand couldn’t blame him. He was allowed to be angry and disappointed. Even though Armand didn’t have a single nerve left to deal with that without being overwhelmed. He could break down himself later - he would break down later. For now, it was enduring, lecturing Daniel about not throwing shoes at him, and gathering all his stamina to not resort to violence. He had these thoughts - and he felt horrible for having them. He would never hurt his child. Yet, he was getting desperate the longer this went on. Whenever he’d behaved like this at Daniel’s age - having loud meltdowns, although back then everyone thought they were temper tantrums - he was beaten until he stopped yelling or crying, and then some more. 

Those images flashed before his eyes, present and past mixing until all Armand could do to stay a good parent was to run out of the house to breathe for a minute, leaving Daniel with Louis and Lestat. 

The whole situation was shit. Leaving Daniel was shit. What if Daniel thought Armand was just going away? Could he, in his current state of mind, understand that Armand just needed a break? Should he have to understand that?
Everything was too loud. He needed to go home, straight to bed and lie under his weighted blanket. 

The door opened, and Louis came outside, closing the door gently behind him. 

“Hey…” He started, his hands in his jeans pockets, looking unsure.

“I am sorry about how this -”

“Don’t,” Armand said, a little venom sliding into his tone, which made Louis take a step back. Maybe it wasn’t fair to be like this, but he could not help it right now. He could not prevent it. 

“Okay. Uhm, look - You seem overwhelmed. Daniel is overwhelmed. I have a suggestion. Daniel could stay here for, let’s say, another hour? You could go home, Daniel could take some time to calm down, play and relax, and then Les and I could drive him home. This okay with you?”

Armand stared at Louis expressionlessly. Some part of Armand wanted to say no, not wanting to accept help from the man who had objectified him, but another part of him thought about the sentiment of ‘It takes a village to raise a child’ and if this suggestion would be best for Daniel and for his own sanity, he would be, quite literally, stupid to say no. 

He sighed.

“Yes - okay. I am sorry. Thank you. Text me when you bring him, yes?”

“Sure,” Louis said, and that was all the confirmation and permission the parent side of Armand needed to let go and think about himself now. 

Without another word, he turned around and walked to his car, tears starting to roll down his face as soon as he was inside and closed the door. 

Louis watched as Armand left their driveway. Hugging himself for some comfort, he shook his head a little. He wasn’t sure what had just happened.
Not Daniel’s behaviour, no, he was used to that from having a child himself, which wasn’t entirely neurotypical either. Or at least that was what Louis assumed. After the incident at the school, the counsellor had talked with Louis and Lestat and had suggested looking into having her tested for ADHD. They were still on the fence about it. 

But no. It wasn’t Daniel who had confused Louis.

It was Armand. 

He really thought that they had read the situation right. It had been Louis’ idea to open with the topic of sex, because it seemed easier to discuss than any other feelings that lay between them. Feelings were a touchy subject - physical matters were less… complicated to navigate at the start. Or so he’d assumed. 

He took a breath and headed back inside, where Lestat was busy cleaning away the wine glasses and the bottle, while Claudia briefly wiped the dinner table.
Louis looked for Daniel and found him sitting in the corner of the stairs’ half-landing, knees pulled towards him, forehead resting on them. 

Louis took a brief moment to decide on an approach for this - he wasn’t Daniel’s parent, and it wasn’t his duty, nor his right, to discipline him.

When he felt like he had thought up something, he carefully walked towards the stairs.

“Can I sit here?” Louis asked, and Daniel lifted his head - his eyes red from crying. The boy just hummed, and Louis took that as confirmation. Sitting down on the landing, faced towards the bottom of the stairs, he waited to see if Daniel would protest. When nothing came, he began to speak. 

“Your dad doesn’t feel so well. He drove home to get some rest, and Lestat and I will bring you home in an hour, give or take.”

“Oh,” Daniel’s voice sounded from behind Louis, higher than usual.

“Life isn’t easy, hm?” Louis offered, and he turned around to smile at Daniel, who smiled back weakly.
“You know the saying? If life gives you lemons-”
“Make some lemonade!” Daniel finished for him, and they both began to chuckle. 

Daniel crawled from his position to sit down next to Louis, leaning his head against the wall. 

“I didn’t want to throw the shoe.” He said after a minute had passed silently.

Louis felt great empathy for Daniel. Sometimes, adults forget how hard it was to be a child. So many feelings, so many situations they had no control over, no say in any of them. 

“Yeah. I know. I’m sure your dad knows that too. Do you want to know what I do when I feel angry and about to burst like a piñata?” Louis asked, turning his head slightly to study Daniel’s reaction. When Daniel giggled a bit, Louis smiled - he’d made that allegory on purpose, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah,” Daniel said.

“Well - I move. Like exercising, doing sports. Feels like all the anger and other big feelings leave my body then, so I can think clearly again.”

“I like running and jumping,” Daniel commented. “Or playing soccer.”

Louis flashed him a smile.

“You know what can also help? What I even do sometimes?”

“No?”

“Jumping rope. I like to count the jumps. Making new high scores. Wanna try it?”

Daniel perked up at that, half gotten up already.

“Now?” 

“Yeah. I’m sure Claudia wants to join too, she loves that. You can ask her - she knows where the ropes are. I’ll get my own rope from upstairs and then I’ll come out to join you.”

“Okay!” Daniel said, and just like that, he was up and gone.

Louis smiled. A little workout would help the kids, and himself too. Maybe it would help with the confusion, the way his heart ached at how the conversation with Armand had gone.
And then he’d need to talk to Lestat about it. For now, Louis knew from experience, it was better to let his husband sulk alone. Everyone had their own ways to deal with stress. And hey, by the speed he could see Lestat move around to tidy and clean, the whole housework left for today would probably be done. Louis was not sorry about that.
He stood up an turned to head up the stairs. Hopefully his rope was still where he’d placed it …

Chapter Text

After arriving home, it took Armand twenty minutes to move from the floor next to the front door, where he'd…emotionally collapsed, towards the kitchen, to drink some water, trying to clear up the brain fog a bit.

Rashid wasn't home - luckily, because Armand had never been fond of the moments where he'd witnessed Armand's meltdowns. Was this a meltdown? Or rather, something PTSD induced? Maybe it didn't matter.

He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and walked to the fridge. 

While Armand wasn't spending too much money on things like unnecessary clothes, shoes, or jewelry, he certainly liked to do so to buy all kinds of technological gadgets (and the associated electrical bill). There had been all kinds of different blenders, cutting machines and tools, before he'd sorted through it one day and given away what they didn't need anymore. He still owned more than a regular person would.

Their fridge was one of those which not only dispensed ice cubes, but also water. Carbonated water.

Probably one of the most European features in his house.

He liked the noise the fridge made while filling his cup, but what he liked more was the feeling of ice-cold sparkling water running down his throat. It almost burned, in the best way possible - this and the feeling of having to catch his breath after each sip made him feel a bit more alive and present. 

After drinking, he held the cold glass against his face for a moment, trying to get rid of his puffy eyes this way. With not much success, but he had to try.

Thinking so very technically, one step after the next was all he could do to keep himself from spiralling. Part of it was some mindfulness, but the biggest part was probably dissociation. It wasn't as bad as it used to be when his flashbacks decided to drag him underwater and make him drown in them, but he still couldn't feel his body like he was supposed to. And he was far from having processed his trauma.

Armand checked the time on his phone.

9:27 pm.

How - somewhere in between arriving in the kitchen and drinking that glass of water, he must have stared into empty space for fifteen minutes or so. Armand arrived home forty minutes ago, which meant that Daniel would be here sooner rather than later. Not good. Daniel couldn't see him in that state. His breath began to pick up, and it was the sound of glass breaking on the tiles and the feeling of emptiness in his hand that made him aware that he'd dropped his glass.

He needed to clean it up before -
His eyes were watering again, tears freely running down his cheeks and dropping from his chin.

He hugged himself tightly and stepped away from the shards.

What he needed was a cold shower. Something to shock him back into being capable of handling a child. 

When the car rolled up the driveway of his house, Daniel felt some nervousness return to his body. What if his dad were mad at him for yelling and throwing stuff? He hoped that he was okay, that they were okay- 

“Home sweet home. I’ll bring you to the door, yeah?” Louis said and opened the door. Daniel nodded and did the same.

While they walked towards the entrance, Daniel thought back to the rope jumping they'd done in the garden. It had helped to calm him somewhat, and it was fun - that was until Claudia did a particularly high jump, landed wrong and fell, hurting her ankle. She cried, and Daniel wanted to help her, but Lestat, who'd watched them, had ushered him away to tend to her. When her foot didn't want to get better, they left for the hospital in one of their cars. Daniel hoped she would be okay. 

Louis rang the bell, and after a minute, his dad opened the door.

Daniel stared at the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“Hello,” he heard his dad say.

“Thank you for bringing him and everything. Daniel, go inside, please.”

Daniel obliged, sneaking through the space between his dad and the door frame.

When he was inside, he looked at the two adults who continued to talk.

“No problem at all. Lestat couldn’t come, Claudia hurt her foot, and they’re at the hospital. Probably sprained, didn’t look broken.” Louis said, and Daniel noticed how tired he looked.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I wish her all the best, may she heal soon. Again, thank you for your support. I am quite exhausted, you must be too. Forgive me for not inviting you inside. I wish you a good drive home, and I will text you when I am ready. Good night.”

Daniel stared open-mouthed as his dad closed the door in Louis’ face, before the other man could even respond. 

The situation made Daniel feel weird, and so he turned to walk towards the stairs, but the voice of his father held him back.

“Daniel?”

Daniel stopped and turned around.
“Yeah?”

He didn’t want to get in trouble, he-

“Can I give you a hug?”

Oh.
“Yeah!”

His father smiled and approached him with open arms. The hug felt good, almost good enough to forget the stress of the evening.

“I love you, Danny. I am sorry that I had to leave.”

“Love you too, Dad! It’s okay, Louis explained that you were tired. Are you still tired?”

His dad pulled away slightly to brush some rogue strands of Daniel’s hair from his forehead, and he smiled. His eyes looked all wrong, red and heavy.

“Yes, I am. And you should go to bed too … want to see who can get ready faster?”

Daniel smiled back and nodded - of course, he would win, he could be so fast!

“Okay. And we will talk tomorrow about what happened today. I am not mad at you, but we cannot ignore some things. Understood?”

Daniel nodded, not at all enthusiastic about it. And then he turned around and headed up the stairs, wanting to choose his favourite pyjama. 

“Claudia, you have to use the crutches!”

Lestat stopped Claudia, who’d jumped up from her chair, only to wince when she landed on her injured foot.

“Here,” Louis handed her the two plastic pieces. “Lestat is right. It’s very important you use them.”

“But it’s annoying!” Claudia protested, taking the crutches anyway.

Lestat shook his head in confusion. Yesterday evening, when they’d returned from the hospital, Claudia had been even excited to use them, despite her sprained ankle still hurting. And now she was making such a fuss. 

“Your attitude is what is annoying, Claudia.”

“Les.”

Lestat turned to Louis, who’d raised his brows as a warning.

“What? It is the truth. Shall I lie to her?”

“No, but you could have phrased that a bit better.”

“Oh, oui, since you are the king of phrasing important -”

“I’m finished eating. Is Sam driving me today?”

Lestat and Louis halted their beginning argument and turned to their daughter, slightly guilty looks on their faces.

“Yeah, honey. Sam’s gonna drive you.”

When Louis looked back at him with one of those ‘It’s your fault’ glances, Lestat held up his hands in defence and silently walked out of the kitchen.

With a sigh, he flung himself onto the couch, listening to Louis’ and Claudia’s continued conversation from a distance. He couldn’t hear every word, but when Claudia mentioned Daniel, Lestat’s thoughts drifted back to last evening. 

After the whole situation had exploded in their faces and Armand fucked off, leaving Daniel at their place, Lestat had tried to distract himself by tidying, cleaning … yet his thoughts couldn’t stay away from that gremlin and his confusing words. It was only Claudia’s accident and their hours-long hospital stay which took his mind somewhere else. 

They’d returned home around 1 in the morning, with Claudia asleep from all the trouble. Lestat and Louis had been entirely prepared to call in sick for Claudia today, to get her some rest after this, but their daughter surprised them when she limped into their bedroom in the morning to announce that she wanted to go to school to ask Daniel if he was okay.

Sometimes Claudia could be a real little brat to others, but Lestat had to give her this: She had a great capacity for empathy, and she was more loyal than any friend could possibly wish for. 

When Claudia was out the door and on her way to school, Lestat heard Louis walk into the living room, but his steps stopped just across the threshold.

Rolling his eyes, Lestat sat up and found his husband’s gaze.

“I know, I know, we should talk.” He admitted, not able to leave the slight annoyance out of his tone. 

Louis did a half smile and nodded slowly. While he walked to the couch, Lestat made some space for him, pulling his knees up to his chest, and leaned sideways against the back cushions. 

When Louis sat down, Lestat smiled and offered one of his hands, which Louis gladly took. 

“So much happening at once, hard to catch a break, huh?” Louis started, and Lestat felt his heart flutter at his husband’s soft tone.

“Yes … I would not mind for life to get a little less…exciting, for a while. Not always, of course, we wouldn’t want it to get boring, do we?”

Louis looked at him for a moment without saying a word before breaking out in a chuckle, his answer broken up into parts in between.

“Nah, boring’s for other people, that’s not us, you’re right.”

Lestat grinned widely, glad to have caused this reaction. But then, he picked a more serious tone, squeezing Louis’ hand for attention.

“Sorry I got all over Claudia like this. It’s all the stress. Yesterday was….”

“Yeah…”

“Have you heard from him?” Lestat asked, because he needed to know - needed to know if it had been both of them, or just himself, who had apparently scared Armand off. He didn’t know why, but he was no idiot. He’d sensed Armand’s attempt at deflection right away. 

“No … not since he closed the door in my face yesterday.”

“He did what ?” 

“He wasn’t well. He said he’d text when he’s ready, though.”

“But that's…ridiculous.” 

Lestat frowned -  he hadn't thought Armand would do that. The man who always was so polite that it bordered on a display of generalised anxiety, pushing them away like that?

“At least he said he would text,” Louis said with a shrug.

“Been thinking about what it was that we did wrong.”

“I find it hard to see that we did,” Lestat answered, quickly running over the conversation in his mind.

“We offered him options, and we asked what he wanted. What we said was perfectly acceptable, for three progressive queer people to talk about.”

“Agreed, but it had to be something that we said that set him off like that. Dunno. Maybe he just got spooked by the possibility of getting what he wants? We didn't read his attraction wrong, did we?”

“Judging by how he always returned our flirtations, we aren’t wrong.”

Louis nodded, a look of sadness coming over him. Lestat didn't like that at all. The conversation with Armand was supposed to make things better, less complicated. For everyone involved.

“I thought about texting him. He should explain himself, it is not fair to -”

“No,” Louis quickly interjected.

“Don't do that. He basically asked to give him some space, and I think we should adhere to that.”

Lestat let out a deep sigh, and then he shifted his position to lean his head against his husband's shoulder.

“I don't like that.”

“Yeah, me neither. We still gotta do it.”

“If you say so, mon Louis. I…trust your opinion on this.”

Louis turned his head to softly press a kiss against Lestat's hair.

“Thank you. We'll get through this.”

Lestat hummed and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shove all bad thoughts about Armand away that had entered his mind. He had an inclination for black and white thinking - he knew that, and in a situation like this, it came easy to him to villainise Armand. 

But Louis said, they'd get through this. And if he'd learned one thing about his husband in all those years, it's that he was usually right.

“How did it make you feel, to hear the suggestion?” Mrs. Field asked Armand, who was sitting in the armchair in her office, one leg over the other, fingers digging into the armrests.

“I am not sure. There was a lot that happened in my mind.”

“Such as?”

Armand took a moment to sort through what he remembered from the previous evening. He’d been… disappointed? Scared? He wasn’t sure anymore.
He was glad that he could have this spontaneous session - he wasn’t eager to run into Louis and Lestat at his regular appointment, not after all this had happened.

“I was unhappy about what they told me. What they asked of me. The topic of casual sexuality is… unpleasant to me. I assume it has to do with my past.”

He stopped there, hoping his therapist wouldn’t dig into that - but then, it was her job to do exactly that, right?

“Your history of sexual abuse? I know we haven’t started to really dive into that, but by what I read in the files transferred from New York and by what you told me already, I understand that this might be difficult for you.”

Armand nodded, trailing the fingers of his right hand over the upholstery.

“When they asked me if that is what I wanted, I … froze. I thought that they were interested in me, not just in my body, and -”

“Did they tell you that? That they were only interested in your body?”

Armand hesitated, finding it difficult to find the right words.

“Not in such terms. But I had to assume that they… why else would they… I- … I do not understand.” 

Mrs. Field smiled at him and leaned forward, her hands clasped together. 

“Sometimes we interpret what other people say based on our own experiences. It can become an automatic thought and behavioural response, and it can feel like it is out of our hands to decide whether to act on it or not. Have you ever felt like how you respond to a situation isn’t entirely based on the facts of the given moment?”

“...Yes. I might have.”

“There are exercises we could try to help you determine whether your reaction is suited to the present situation, or not. It’s not a magic spell, it will take time and a lot of work to truly get a grip on those patterns, but it might be helpful to start.”

Armand tilted his head, processing on what he’d just heard.
His reaction had been entirely adequate, had it not been? He was sure that he had understood what Louis and Lestat had suggested to him, sure about the implication, but… but maybe… Could he be wrong? It was a scary thought, to not be able to trust his own instincts, they had brought him through his life, helped him to survive…

But if he was wrong, maybe Louis and Lestat weren’t to blame? Maybe it was a misunderstanding that could be remedied? Just maybe. 

He nodded.

“Okay. Let’s start with me asking you this: What did you feel in your body before they made the suggestion? And what did you feel after?”

When Armand walked out of the therapy session, he felt conflicted, confused - he needed to think about all of this. He wasn’t ready to confront Louis and Lestat about it, he wanted to be sure that he came to the right conclusion before dragging them into his mess… 

The rest of the day had gone okay. Work was less demanding, and Daniel was in a good mood - when they sat at the dinner table, his son spoke excitedly about what he’d learned in school and what he’d played with Claudia during recess. 

After dinner, Armand had some work emails to answer, but he really didn’t feel like cooping up in his office to do it. It was so much nicer to be in the living room, where Daniel and Rashid were doing a puzzle together. They’d started that one a while back, but lately there had been no opportunity for them to continue,

Listening to Daniel’s laughter made the repetitive motion of swiping through his emails on his iPad a tiny bit more enjoyable.

That was, until a new one came in, to his work address, which made him almost drop the device. He would have dropped it, hadn’t he been frozen in place instead while he read it.

From: Riccardo Conti

Subject: Old friends

Hello, 

I know that this might be a strange mail to reach you.
It has been so long since we last saw each other. I am Riccardo, we lived together in that awful foster home in Paris. You were just fifteen when I decided to run away.
I don’t think I need to say more, by now you should remember. And I am sorry if you do. But I had to try and contact you. I moved to the States just last year, and

Armand closed the iPad with a heavy breath, not able to read further.
He could feel his heartrate pick up, his breathing too and his vision turned blurry.
Fast, entirely too fast he lost the feeling for his legs, which he only realised when he tried to stand up, flee the situation, he wasn’t sure what he was even trying,
he only knew that he was falling now, to the ground, and all he could do was to to shield his head, before he heard his son let out a panicked scream and the world turned dark.

Chapter Text

“Let go of me! Please!”
The policewoman who held him by his arm ignored the boy and pulled him steadily with her, to the steps of this big house where roof shingles were falling off, scattered all throughout the front yard.

He couldn’t run away, although he tried with all his strength.
“A boy of your age can’t live alone on the streets - you need a home.”

“I wasn’t alone!” He said, still trying to dig his heels into the ground to stop the traction, but without any success.

“No,” The policewoman said and shook her head at his answer.

“You lived among homeless, adult junkies under a bridge - for weeks. They should have called us immediately.”

The people had been nice to him. He’d tried to tell the police that, but they wouldn’t listen. If he only hadn’t become sick, causing Maurice and Elaine to deliver him to the emergency room… 

They arrived at the door and when the policewoman pressed the doorbell, the door flung open after a minute. Before them stood a tall, middle-aged woman, looking down at him through rectangular glasses.

“Hello. Paris Police Department - we called earlier about an emergency placement. This is the boy.”

The woman hummed and cast her eyes over his small frame.

“You said it was a twelve-year-old boy. This one looks younger.”

“Malnourishment.” The policewoman explained simply.

“His name is Amadeo. He claims he ran away from ‘bad people’ but he won’t talk about it. He also says he’s originally from Italy, Venice, but our colleagues there couldn’t find anything about him in the missing children’s database. And his French is too native sounding for that anyway. He’s yours now. We’ll come by next week for questioning, child protective services said he should acclimatise to being in foster care first.”

The woman nodded and ushered Amadeo inside. He didn’t want to go but he knew that more resistance was futile, for now. The woman and the policewoman talked a bit more, but Amadeo turned away to wander through the dark hallway.

“Hey!” A voice came from his right. 

He turned to see a boy, a few years older than him, standing in a doorway, smiling.

“Don’t be scared.” He said with a smile and approached Amadeo, holding out his hand. Amadeo took it, after a brief moment of hesitation.

“I’m Riccardo - what’s your name?”

“Dad!”

Amadeo furrowed his brows. That wasn’t right.

“My name is-”

“Dad!”

Where did that voice come from?

“Dad! Wake up, please!”

Armand gasped for air when he was ripped from his nightmare, sitting up straight, the world starting to spin around him.

“Dad!”
Daniel wrapped his arms around him, and it startled Armand so badly that he almost pushed him away, stopping himself at the last moment.
He wasn’t sure what had happened exactly - he’d been reading emails, and suddenly he was on the floor. 

“Mr. Ducat, do you need a glass of water?”

Armand tried to breathe through the hug that felt like chains around his body - he nodded and looked at Rashid, who shot him a deeply worried gaze. Something in Armand’s facial expression must have alerted him further.

“Daniel, please get a glass of cold water for your dad, okay?”

Slowly, his son unwrapped his arms, causing Armand to let out a sigh of relief, and he stepped away to head out of the living room, his footsteps getting faster as he dashed down the stairs.

“No running -” Armand tried, but Daniel was already gone. 

His body felt weird, too big, the room around him unreal - 

Rashid offered him a hand to get up and he took it, wobbling a bit when he got pulled back onto his feet.

“Thank you.”

Rashid nodded, the concern not gone from his face.

“Do you want to lie down? I can take over childcare, get Daniel to bed later?”

Armand wanted to say no, that he was fine - but the images of his dream - no, not a dream, it had been a flashback - were still fresh on his mind, his skin still crawling. 

“Yes,” was all he could bring himself to answer.

After Daniel had returned, proudly handing him the glass, Armand tried his best to swallow it all down, fighting against the urge to spit each sip back out. He wasn't sure why his throat was constricting like that, it surely had nothing to do with the sensory experience of the water and everything with his mind falling to pieces.

“Danny,” Armand said afterwards, “I do not feel well. You do not need to worry, I just need a lot of rest…Rashid will be with you until you go to bed.”

“But,” Daniel answered with big, slightly teary eyes, “shouldn't we get a doctor?”

Armand shook his head, hoping his son wouldn't ask too many questions.

“No, it is not like that. You might understand one day when you have grown up. Goodnight my beautiful boy, I love you.”

And with that he started walking towards his bedroom, his thoughts drifting from the present to the past, a rip inside of him reopening with each heavy step. A rip he thought he'd taped over enough to count as sealed.

“Did you notice what Mrs. Fields said, Louis? We are communicating better!” Lestat beamed at his husband, who climbed into the car seat next to him, pulling the door shut.

Louis couldn't purge the image from his mind that Lestat looked at him either like a child getting a gold star, or a golden retriever, waiting eagerly for its reward. It was truly adoring. When he was like this, it was hard to remember that there also was this other side to him, the one that had landed them in therapy. Although, Louis had to be honest with himself - not only Lestat had his areas to work on. Since starting therapy in NOLA and continuing it here, Louis had learned a lot about himself, about his tendency to push away people or the way he sometimes used his words not only as a shield, but also as weapons.

“Yes, mon cher, it seems that we are.”

Lestat smiled and then started the car.
While they were rolling out of the parking lot and onto the street, Louis took out his phone to check his messages.

It had been almost a week since they’d heard from Armand. When his friend had told Louis that he would text when he was ready, Louis hadn’t thought it would take him this long .
On day three, Lestat had confessed to Louis that he’d written to Armand, just to let him know that he was thinking of him, which Louis took as permission to write to Armand too. He just wanted to know how he was feeling - when he got no answer, he tried again the next day. And the next. Five messages total, twelve when he added the ones from Lestat to that, and still no response.

“Still nothing?”Lestat asked, his eyes fixed on the road while he carefully steered through the traffic. 

“No. Les, this is weird, right? My last three messages are left on unread.”

Lestat nodded, his hands tightening around the wheel.

“What if something happened?”

“Don’t you think Claudia would have told us if Daniel didn’t show up to school? According to her, he was there every day, looking normal as ever.”

“Oui, but it could still -”

With a sigh Louis put away his phone.

“I think we’re worrying too much. He said he’ll text, so we have to take his word for it.”

Lestat hummed, not sounding too convinced.

“If we don’t hear from him until next week…”

“Agreed. If we don’t hear from him, we’ll check on him personally.”

Armand sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at his open closet.
Too many options… too many steps involved.

He’d tried, he really had - evident by the piles of discarded clothing on his floor from the last few days. 

Since his trauma-induced fainting, he’d been haunted by more flashbacks during the day, and gruesome nightmares when he tried to get some sleep at night.
He was not new to this - he knew exactly what this was. PTSD symptoms flare up, making him slide into depression faster than he could say inner safe place or anti-dissociation coping skills .

But only because he knew didn’t mean he could stop it.
Besides, he was still managing the basics, wasn’t he?

His son was fed, clothed, washed, and did his homework. Fair, half of that was Rashid’s work, because the little energy Armand had left, he had to divide between being a parent and doing an ounce of his job. He’d ignored pretty much every e-mail that wasn’t important, rescheduled all out-of-house appointments to be two weeks later. 

He was getting out of bed in the morning, which was more than he could say for previous episodes. He even ate and drank enough not to collapse, although he knew that it wasn’t enough and that if he’d kept this up, he would lose weight. 

Every day he wore a fresh shirt, and every two days he changed the pyjama bottoms he wore as pants. He was brushing his teeth, washing his face…
Showering was another thing. But he hadn’t left the house anyway, not once, so what did it matter? Daniel still loved him when he was stinky, and Rashid was far too polite to say anything. 

This was just a small slip-up, and in a week or so, he’d have everything back under control. It wasn’t his fault that his past kept throwing bricks at his head every time he tried to hold it up high and see forward.

He should get dressed. In real clothes. He had therapy today…shouldn’t he go?

He probably should.

But going to therapy meant doing all the steps to leave the house, and he couldn’t take a shower yet, not with what’s been haunting him memory-wise, and then there would be driving the car, handling traffic, seeing all those people and being seen , noises, too many visual inputs, the smell of the bakery next to the therapist’s office…

He grabbed his phone, ignored everything on the screen, and shot Mrs. Field a text to cancel the appointment. 

So, what now? Daniel was in school, Rashid was picking up groceries and then headed to the car wash.
He was alone at home. There were a lot of possibilities, many things to do…
Armand let himself fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

It’s been days without answering any messages. He’d gotten several from Louis and Lestat, and he couldn’t blame them - but he had no energy to answer them, no energy to deal with that heartbreak right now.
And then there was, of course, still the e-mail he never finished reading… from Riccardo. 

Just thinking his name whirled up fragments in his mind. Maybe he should just finish reading it. Maybe it was like with half-listened to songs, that manifested themselves as earworms, tormenting the host until they’d give in and listen to the song fully.

Should he drink something? To freshen up his mind at least?

Yes. Probably.
Slowly, he sat up and walked to the en-suite bathroom.
He didn’t feel like leaving the room - it was his safe space, or at least had been, before the flashbacks crashed in. 

He filled the empty glass that stood there from yesterday with water from the tap - glad he’d installed a water filter there - and sipped it slowly, while staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His curls were hanging in almost flat strands from his head, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look twenty years older. Because he looked ten years younger, it equalled out to looking like forty-five.

After putting the glass down, he grabbed a washcloth, intent on at least scrubbing the nightly sweat from his face. When the wet fabric touched his skin, he felt in two places at the same time. Here, in his bathroom, but then there was also…

-

“Don’t cry now, it’s over… you’re safe with me, for now,” Riccardo said, while carefully wiping Amadeo’s face with a washcloth, trying to get the dirt off his skin. Amadeo held tightly on to Riccardo’s other hand, trying to breathe through the pain that even the slightest contact against his bruises caused. 

“I want to run away one day.” He said under his breath, dreaming of a future where no adult could touch his body anymore. Riccardo smiled sadly, ruffling the twelve-year-old’s hair.
“I know. All of us want that. But, Amadeo, listen, it’s important. Don’t try to run. They will catch you and bring you back, and the punishment will be so much more horrible than the usual ones. Did you see how Henri looked when he returned from the basement?”

-

Armand let the washcloth drop into the sink and took a deep breath. 

This wasn’t fair. Why was it all coming back now? He’d had a grip on his triggers those past years, why was it sliding when he finally thought he could find happiness?

Leaving the cloth, he walked back to his bedroom and flung himself onto the bed, face buried between the pillows.

He was strong. He would survive this.
They were just memories, they couldn’t hurt him now.

Turning onto his back, he grabbed his iPad, blinking against the half darkness in the curtained off room when the screen lit up too brightly. 

Maybe playing some Minecraft would help to distract him. Putting on clothes could wait. He still had the whole day in front of him and maybe…maybe he’d feel better by dinnertime. 

Daniel smiled a little when the car arrived at their house. While Claudia waved to him from the backseat, he ran towards it, opening the door on the other side.

“Hello Claudia! Hello Lestat!”

“Bonjour Daniel, I hope the safety seat is right for your height? Let me check -”

“It fits, thank you!” He said, climbing onto it and fastening his seat belt.

It was Monday, and the last few days had been strange. His dad had barely gotten out of bed, barely spoken with him by his own impulse… His dad’s room’s door was never shut, though. And when Daniel knocked, he would always be welcomed in.
Again and again, he’d asked Rashid why they weren’t calling for a doctor when his father was that sick, and why he wasn’t getting sick himself, because when his father had a cold or a stomach bug, he often would get it too. 

Finally, Rashid had told Daniel that his father was very sad, that it was nothing Daniel had done, but that it would take a while for him to get better. And Daniel had tried to help him, brought him his favourite plushies because they always helped him when he felt sad, and he told him jokes, but his dad still wasn’t happy. He had gotten worse even, every day.
On Saturday, Rashid had left to go on an apartment tour to where he’d be moving to in December, but before that, he’d asked Daniel if he’d like to ride with Claudia to school if her dads had time to take him. He’d enthusiastically nodded. She was his best friend, and although they played together each day in school, he wished he could see her always. He flung his arms around with excitement, when Rashid made the call to Lestat.

Oh, that reminded him of-

“Thank you for picking me up!”
It was good to be polite, he’d learned that from his dad, because good people would treat you better when you’re being polite and say please and thank you. 

When Daniel had asked “And what about bad people?” once, his dad had promised him that he’d never have to encounter truly bad people because he would be there to protect him. And told him that if Daniel noticed something strange about an adult talking to him, he should tell his father at once. No secrets. 

And Lestat was one of the good people, although he sometimes made faces that reminded Daniel of Grumpy Cat, an old meme that his dad had once shown him.

“You’re welcome. Is your dad sick, so he can’t take you to school himself?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said simply, unsure about how much to reveal to Claudia’s father.

“He said he’d be able to drive me tomorrow but-” He said and stopped, for the same reason.

“Maybe it would be best if I talk with him about it? If I should take you to school tomorrow, too. Oh, and Rashid said something about collecting you from school in the afternoon and bringing you home? You would have to wait an hour longer, because Claudia’s creative writing class is after the regular lessons have ended. Your dad knows about this, I assume?”

“Yes, I think he does, maybe.” Daniel said quickly, because the words creative writing class had shifted his attention towards something else. 

Lestat let out a hum that Daniel couldn’t interpret.

“I will talk to him when I take you home.”

“Okay. Claudia, I didn’t know you were in a writing class!”

“It’s new!” Claudia said. “It’s the first time! You should come too, then we could do that together! And you have to wait anyway.”

“Yes, that would be so cool! I want to learn how to write!”

Daniel smiled, momentarily distracted from the chaos at home. He had so many ideas for stories, and this way he could spend even more time with Claudia! 

When they arrived at school, Daniel thanked Claudia’s dad again and climbed out of the seat to hurry to his classroom.

Lestat watched the children run into the building, and as soon as they were inside, he took out his phone to call Louis.

“Hello, everything alright?”

“Yes, the children are safely delivered to their sanctuary of learning.”

“I’m glad to hear that, my lovely poet. But why are you calling me then? I have work to-”

“Do you remember how we said that if we hadn’t heard from Armand until now, we would go check up on him?”

“Yeah?”

“Well. A perfect opportunity for that has just revealed itself to me. To us. You should come too, to collect the children and then bring Daniel home. I have a strange feeling, mon Louis.”

“Hmm, yes, okay, that is actually not a bad idea. I have a meeting at the office, can you get me from there when it’s time?”

“Sure. Anything for you.”

Louis’ laugh made Lestat smile. 

“Okay then, I’ll see you later. Bye, love.”

“À bientôt, mon amour.”

Chapter Text

“You don’t have to ring, I’ve got my key!” Daniel said, proudly pulling out his little key ring from his schoolbag. 

Louis and Lestat exchanged amused glances, while Claudia jumped along to an imaginary hopscotch behind them. 

When Daniel opened the door, Lestat started to head inside, but Louis grabbed him by his shoulder and shook his head slightly. 

“Can you get your dad for us, Daniel?” 

Danniel nodded and ran inside, and Louis could hear him call for his dad multiple times. 

“We should have just followed him inside,” Lestat said, peeking around the doorframe, until Louis pulled him back again .

“I don’t think he would appreciate being surprised like that. I know you mean well, but Armand, he’s-”

“Don’t act as if you understand him better than I do!”

Louis widened his eyes at Lestat’s overly snappy tone and took his hand away.

“Okay. Yeah. Fine. I don’t. You happy now?”

Lestat cast his gaze down, his shoulders slumping a little.

“I didn’t mean to-”

Daniel being back at the door interrupted Lestat’s sentence, and when he talked he did it so fast that Louis had a hard time getting what the boy was saying. But by the way his face looked, he could guess that it was nothing good.

“You have to come inside, now, please, my dad doesn’t - He doesn’t respond - he sits there and- and - and -”

Daniel began to cry, and after he had processed the words, Louis’ heart sank at the description. 

Lestat acted faster than him.

“Daniel, Claudia, go into the garden to wait there - where is your dad?” He asked Daniel, his whole body tightening as if he was getting ready for a fight.

“Uhm, he is - in the - living room upstairs,” Daniel got out between sobs.
Louis and Lestat ushered both children inside and closed the door, and while Claudia pulled Daniel along with her towards the kitchen, Lestat darted up the stairs with Louis following directly behind. 

When they arrived in the living room - they had never been here before, Louis realised -  they found Armand sitting on the floor, back leaned against the side of the couch, and he was staring blankly into the air with his body shivering, streaks of tears running down his face and dropping from his chin.

“Armand?” Lestat tried, with uncharacteristic carefulness, slowly approaching until he was a few paces away.

“Armand?” Louis mirrored his husband unconsciously, feeling his stomach recoil at the sight of Armand in such a distressed state. He went to approach further, but Lestat grabbed his arms tightly, stopping him at once.

“No! Don’t go to him, Louis. I don’t think that would be good. Let me handle this, please?”

Louis swallowed, but nodded, taking a step back and hugging himself tightly while watching Lestat trying to reach their friend. 

“Armand? Can you hear me?”
Lestat crouched down until he met his eye level and then proceeded to slowly wave his hand through Armand’s supposed field of vision.

“It’s Lestat. Daniel was worried about you. Try to hear me, s’il te plaît?”

Armand tilted his head a tiny bit, but his eyes were still glossed over, like he was in another world.

“Okay, merde. Armand… Nous sommes là pour t’aider.”*

Another head tilt, and rapid blinking was his answer.

“Louis, see if you can find something cold. In the freezer, perhaps, something with ice wrapped in a thin towel.”

Louis nodded hastily and turned to go down back to the kitchen.

He didn’t like the situation at all. But he trusted Lestat that he knew what he was doing. More than he’d trust himself with this.

After descending the stairs, the first things he noticed were Daniel’s shoes and jacket, which lay across the floor - a bit chaotic, but not too drastic. 

When he entered the kitchen, though - 

He stopped dead in his tracks, overwhelmed by the havoc that greeted him.

Dirty dishes and glasses were spread out across the counters, the floor speckled with things like ketchup and breadcrumbs. A pot with half-cooked pasta stood on the stove, which was thankfully turned off. 

Oh man. That wasn’t even everything, but the impression he got was enough to declare this an utter shitshow. 

He could worry about that later - he had a task that was more important than standing here and taking in the particular sights. 

He hurried to the freezer and searched through the drawers until he found an ice pack, which he pulled out from between popsicles and frozen peas.

A towel - yes, there!

He pulled a clean one from the hook next to the sink and wrapped it carefully around the pack, before he turned and darted upstairs.

When he came into the room, he found Lestat now sitting cross-legged in front of Armand, talking to him in French, while Armand had given up his statue-esque posture and rocked back and forth with his hands slung around his legs. 

“... bien, oui. Respire, lentement. Tu es ici, dans ton salon, avec moi. À San Francisco, et nous sommes en 2024.”*

“Hi, uh, I’m back. I found an ice pack,” Louis said and quickly walked to the two men to hand Lestat the item. 

“Merci, mon Louis. Armand, voici une poche de glace. Je vais te toucher les mains avec. Il fera froid, ne soyez pas surpris.”*

Louis watched as Lestat touched Armand’s hands with the ice pack, and it took everything he had not to intervene when Armand recoiled at the contact - but he did grab the pack, holding it tightly between his palms now.

“Can I-”

“Yes, you can sit here.” Lestat offered and Louis walked until he could sit down on the floor next to Lestat, watching Armand with furrowed brows, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“What’s up with him?” He asked Lestat, who took his gaze off Armand for the first time to look at Louis.

“I am not entirely sure about the details, but to me it looks like a PTSD response.”

“PTSD?” Louis repeated, glancing at Armand carefully.

“I thought only soldiers get that.”

“Common misconception,” Lestat mumbled, and then he looked down, taking a breath.

“I had PTSD myself. I got it treated before we met, so you couldn’t know… The therapy really helped. But it’s not entirely gone. You remember how, when I am having a stressful day, I sometimes cannot stand to walk near dogs on the streets?”

Louis nodded - yes, of course, he knew that.
“I always thought you just didn’t like dogs.”

“I used to love dogs, until… Well, another time.”

“Lestat!?” 

“I’m okay now, Louis. Armand is not. Let’s focus on him.”

Louis sighed, his heart hurting at the implication of what Lestat had just told him. They were married, were raising a child together, for fucks sake - shouldn’t he have told him something important like that?
But… then again… He hadn’t exactly told Lestat everything about his past, had never talked with him about Paul, not in detail -

“Lestat? …Louis?”

Lestat’s and Louis’ heads snapped back to face Armand, whose gaze seemed more vivid now, as he anxiously darted his eyes between the two.

“Hello,” Louis said and offered a smile. He didn’t really know how to go from here, though. 

“Why are you -” Armand started, clenching the ice pack a little tighter between his fingers, “Why are you at my house?”

“We brought Daniel home from school. Armand, how are you?”

Armand’s gaze fell to the ground, and he just shrugged.

“I admit that this might not have been the brightest question. I can see, we can see, that you’re clearly unwell. Daniel said you were sick - but it’s not that, is it?”

Armand’s eyes snapped up at the mention of Daniel, and he scrambled to get up, but Lestat stopped him, with one hand held out like a stop sign, not touching him.

“No, Armand - please. Daniel is fine, he is in the garden with Claudia. Well, he is not fine emotionally, because he found you like this. But he will be.”

“But I need to -”

“No,” Louis said in a determined tone. “What you need to do is to accept our help - and I don’t mean just now.”

“What do you mean, Louis?” Lestat asked, his eyes lingering on Armand’s still slightly trembling body.

Louis sighed for the thousandth time today. 

“I have seen the kitchen… I don’t want to imagine how the bathrooms look. Or your bedroom, Armand.”

Armand’s gaze turned sharp as he gave him an angry answer.

“If you came here to judge, you can as well fuck off to-”

“Woah, hey. I don’t think that’s what Louis was implying.”

“I wasn’t. Sorry. I am just… I am worried about you, Armand. Lestat is worried too. You haven’t texted all this time and now I guess we know why.”

“My whole world doesn’t revolve around you two. And, whyever would you be worried about me?”

Louis and Lestat exchanged confused glances.

“Are you serious? We are friends, of course we are-”

“Armand, we care greatly about you-”

Both of them started answering at the same time, until they stopped. After a brief pose, Louis tried again.

“Is this, all this, about our conversation? Did we-”

“No!” Armand quickly said. After a brief pause, he added something, almost under his breath.
“Would almost be easier to just say yes to that. But no.”

“Okay.” Lestat said. “Want some help to get up now?”

Armand’s face seemed to be shifting between anger, worry and something else. 

Before he could answer, they heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and when they turned their heads, they saw Daniel and Claudia coming into the room.

“Dad!” Daniel yelled and ran towards him, but it was Louis who gently stopped him before he could fall into Armand’s arms.

“Hey, Daniel? Your dad isn’t well enough for a hug. I am sure he is glad that you are here now, though.”

Armand nodded, more life returning to his body.

Claudia went to Louis to sit down next to him, and she smiled at everyone. Louis wasn’t sure why that was her reaction to this situation, but he wasn’t in the mind to question it.

“Daddy Les?” She asked, and Lestat turned his head to smile back at her.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

“To - oh, mer-” He stopped himself from finishing the curse, and pulled out his phone.

“She is right. I am running late. I will - I-”

Louis helped him out, gently laying one hand against his cheek.

“It’s okay Les. You go, I will stay here with Claw.”

“But-”

“I will let you know where I will be in the evening, yeah?”

“What do you mean, where you will be?” Armand now asked, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms, the ice pack sliding from his hold and dropping onto the floor.

“Armand, come on. You need help. Let us at least talk. Do you seriously think that I will believe that you will be “just fine” if I leave now too?”

Armand pressed his lips together, but after a brief moment, he shook his head.

“We’re here to help you.” Louis offered again, in a warm tone.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t mean to, but we are here now and we’re in this together- which isn’t a complaint, by the way.”

Lestat finally nodded and stood up.

“Okay. I have to leave, sorry. Armand, please listen to Louis’ advice.”

Armand looked at him for half a minute, before he weakly nodded.

Lestat gave both Louis and Claudia a brief kiss on their cheeks before he quickly made his way out. 

For a moment, the room fell silent.

But then, Daniel spoke up.

“I am hungry.”

“Me too,” Claudia said. “I’m so hungry, I think I’m gon' die!”

Louis half-smiled at that, and then he looked at everyone.

“What do you say, should I order some pizza for us all?”

The kids yelled their enthusiasm to the idea, while Armand just shrugged. Given that shrugging wasn’t exactly a no to this either, not in a situation like this, Louis got his phone out to search for a place nearest to their location.

When Lestat arrived at the theatre, he made it just in time for the start of their rehearsal. Lucky for him that it wasn’t one with costumes that day.

While he waited in the wings for his entry, his thoughts drifted towards Armand, to the situation he’d just left. He remembered how it was to deal with flashbacks, and it was back when he was still in France, without a job and a kid to take care of. Part of him beat himself up about the fact they hadn’t intervened sooner - but another part told him that it was wrong to think like that. They couldn’t have known. They weren’t to blame, not for that at least. Whatever had caused this episode was not on them, but what was on them now was to help their friend. Because that’s what he was… a friend. And when the first notes of his song started to play, he couldn’t help but think that he really wanted to be more than that. More than he’d thought he wanted, before. 

Someone tapped his shoulder.
“Lestat! Go!”
Right.

Shaking off the thoughts about his private life, he turbo-slipped into his role as King George and headed out to the stage.

“You say…”

Chapter Text

By the time the pizza arrived, Armand had managed to get up from the floor and sit on the couch. Doing this small act shouldn’t have cost him that much energy - but sadly, it did.

Louis had assured him that it was okay, that he would deal with everything, but Armand wished he had insisted more on helping. Because now that the initial fear, confusion and anger - why the anger? - had subsided a bit, there was room for another feeling to spread throughout him.
Embarrassment.  Louis and Lestat had found him, crashed out, in a messy home, in messy clothes, unshowered, and all of this was not the impression he’d ever wanted to make on the two.

When Louis came into the room with two plates of pizza, Armand blushed - this whole situation was almost too much for him. Because, yes, embarrassment, but still his mind seemed set on holding onto that crush on Louis, even though-

“One portion of lunch for you, sir. Fresh and hot from the pizza place around the corner!”

Despite his mood, Armand had to chuckle at that when Louis set the plate with a few big slices down on the couch table, keeping his own plate in his hand. 

“Where are the children?”

“Downstairs, in the kitchen, digging into their portions. I thought it would be good for you to have some space from them - this way we could talk. 

Armand touched one of the pieces with his index finger, testing the crispiness of the dough. 

“I am not hungry, not really.”

Louis sighed and then sat down next to Armand, leaving some polite space between them.

“Can you try? Please? You lost weight, haven’t you?”

Armand stared at his plate and nodded.

“Not too much, but I shouldn’t lose more... maybe regain a bit of it.”

“And this starts with this pizza. It’s delicious - I had a bite of it already, downstairs.”

“Is it good?”

“Very good,” Louis said and then he took a piece in his hand, biting a large chunk off it. 

Armand hummed, but still didn’t touch his portion further. That was, until Louis sighed, and began to use a different tone… one that had quite the effect on Armand.

“Come on now, do it. Be good.”

Armand stared at Louis and it took him everything not to drop his jaw. Was Louis realising what he was causing, speaking to him like that? Armand felt a shiver run down his spine, in a good way - and he nodded, hurrying to comply. 

When he took a bite, and looked up at Louis, there was something flickering for a moment in Louis’ gaze - but then he furrowed his brows.

“Oh, you actually - good, yeah. That is good. You’re doing good.”

Maybe that was something to unpack for later, because now that Armand had taken the first bite, he regained feeling for how empty his stomach was and how much he, from time to time, savoured the taste of molten cheese.

“You were right,” Armand said after he’d finished the second piece, “it is very delicious.”

“Told you,” Louis agreed, finishing his portion, and then he proceeded to lick some cheese that had stuck to his finger, at which Armand had to avert his eyes. Because that sight would have done things to his body that he… in general, wasn’t sure how to handle when it came to Louis, or Lestat, but also at this time, couldn’t deal with. He couldn’t even take a shower.

“I don’t think I can manage the last piece,” Armand said after a while, shoving the plate away a bit overly demonstratively. He didn't say out loud that the last slice really meant the last slice of half the pizza because Louis would know that, being the one who brought it to him.

Louis chuckled and leaned back on the couch, exuding some sort of relaxation that Armand could only dream of.

“So …” Armand said, waiting for Louis to lead this conversation because it had been his idea anyway, and Armand was bad at this. 

“So,” Louis answered, turning his head to study Armand’s face, a concerned look overtaking his features the longer he stared at him.

“When have you last gotten a full night of sleep?”

“Uninterrupted?”

Louis nodded.

“Before we moved here.”

At that, Louis sat up straight.

“... you’re joking. Armand, that’s been three months now!”

Armand shrugged.

“I’m used to it.”

Louis stared at him for a moment with disbelief, bouncing his leg a little.

“Okay. Okay… let me reiterate. When have you last gotten a night of sleep that felt like enough for what you’re used to?”

Armand looked away, his fingers spreading out over the armrest, rubbing little circles into the fabric.

“Before the dinner at your house.”

“So, you lied earlier?”

Armand whirled around, fixing his gaze on Louis with a frown.

“Who do you take me for? No, I did not lie. I did not sleep well that night, that is true … But the real trouble began with the next evening, when I got an email.”

“That what triggered you?”

Armand pulled his legs up on the couch and brought his knees towards him, essentially folding in half. 

He didn’t really want to talk about it all with Louis, not now, not when he still wasn’t sure about his intentions.

So he left it at nodding.

“I really want to help you, Armand. Lestat, too.” 

“Yes. So you’ve said.” 

“You don’t believe me?”

Armand’s mind was divided on that. He wanted to say no, because doubting people's intentions was his whole thing, but he also didn't believe Louis would lie to him like that. So he went for the answer in the middle, which, in this case, was answering with a question of his own.

“Did you give me a reason to?”

Louis raised a brow and his eyes narrowed, just slightly - yet he didn’t seem unkind, despite the words he said next.

“Okay, I see that this is going to be difficult. I didn’t want to do it this way, but let me bring up an uncomfortable fact.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think will happen to Daniel if you keep on billowing into this depression spiral, and fail to take care of him?”

“Are you threatening my son now?”

“Am I- What the actual fuck, Armand. No. Of course, I am not threatening him. What I was playing at… Look. If Daniel starts to show up in school in dirty clothes, maybe with messy hair and teeth, and starts being a bit too hungry for it to be normal… What do you think the teachers will do?”

Armand glared at Louis because that was easier than letting the fear that was rattling his very core control him. 

“I am not in the mood for riddles.”

“Jesus Christ, Armand. They will call CPS on you at one point. Maybe a public school wouldn’t, not so fast at least, but this school, with so few kids, compared, most of them being from higher-income households? They will do it faster than you can say -”

“Okay, okay, I - I get your point.”

“Do you, though? Because being a queer brown single father isn’t exactly the top condition to get treated with understanding from the authorities, you know that.”

Armand’s mask faltered. He wanted to tell Louis off, wanted to hide, wanted to scream at the state of the world and himself - instead, he swallowed everything down and lowered his eyes. It was… hard to admit to himself that Louis was right. 

“You need help. We are here to help. Why do you close down on us like that?”

Again, it seemed easier to answer with a question of his own. Because the first thing that came to mind was-

“Why did you ask me if I wanted to be friends with benefits with you and Lestat?”

“I thought this wasn’t about - Sorry, well - we-” Louis said and stopped, closing his eyes and silently shaking his head. When he spoke again, he met Armand’s gaze. 

“I thought it would be…easier.”

“Easier than what ?”

“I- Shit. I’m not sure if I can answer that. I am not good at this…”

Armand huffed and crossed his arms, eying Louis carefully - he wasn’t going to cave now. He would wait for an answer to this, and if it would take the whole day.

“Armand, I-” Louis spoke and bounced his leg so hard that Armand had to bite his lip to prevent himself from letting Louis off the hook, due to pity. 

Pity-
Pity…

“No pity for the weak, Amadeo - take your punishment and learn from it.”

“Armand?”

Armand blinked a few times, pushing the old images away from the forefront of his mind.

“You okay?”

Armand morphed his face into a bitter smile.

“I am not okay. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Louis just said, and then the room fell silent once more.

With each passing moment, Armand became more aware of the state he was in. Dirty. Gross. Why was Louis still here? He was ruined goods, not worthy of his attention.

“Armand.”

“Hm?”

“I care for you. More than you’d know. I don’t just want to-you know.”

Armand swallowed and felt slightly dizzy from the way his heartbeat doubled at that. Was he implying that he- He couldn’t possibly mean-

“As I said, I am shit at this. Took me and Les a long while for me to be open about feelings. But- back to the topic at hand now. You need help. Will you accept my help? And Lestat’s?”

Armand inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm that had just started up inside of him.

“I will - I- yes. Okay. I do.”

“Thank you,” Louis said, letting out a big sigh of relief.

“What do you have in mind? How could you help me?”

Louis smiled and angled his body until he was fully facing him. 

“We can help you with housework. With Daniel. Until you feel better. Make it so you won’t be alone.”

Armand inhaled sharply, almost overwhelmed by the scope of help he was offered. 

“That’s too much - I can’t-”

“Hey. You said you’d accept. No arguing.”

Again, there was this tone to Louis’ voice…

“Do you often have these…flashbacks, at night?”

Armand nodded.

“Do you have a guest room?”

Armand nodded again and blushed.

“Okay. Here’s my suggestion. Lestat and me will take turns staying at your house, for the next few days or a week. Even weeks, if it has to be. I need to discuss that with him, of course, but I doubt he’ll say no. I can't work remotely for the next days, so I can only be here from around noon until the early evening. Lestat has to work in the afternoons and evenings, so he could be until noon and at night.”

“You will just… be here?”

“Be here, and help you. Cleaning, cooking, that stuff. But also - encourage you? Is that the right word? Because, Armand, you need to put in your fair share of work too. Don’t look at me like that, I know you already are. I have been through depression, too, in the past. But, no more lying in bed all day. Sit on the couch, wear your pyjamas - but clean ones. You know. That stuff. Small steps.”

Armand considered all this.

With Rashid gone for another two weeks, it would indeed be a huge help if he didn't have to try alone … It certainly would be best for Daniel. And that fact alone was what made him nod along to Louis' words.

“Thank you, Louis.” He said, finally, his voice small and heavy with emotion, he couldn't embrace fully at that moment.

“Oh, one last thing-” Louis said, a smile on his lips.

“All this means that, of course, we may need to bring Claudia here more often. That's alright with you?”

“Yes. Of course. Your daughter is lovely!”

Louis beamed at him, making Armand’s heart carefully warm up once again.

When Lestat walked out of the theatre, he hurried to drive home. Louis had sent him a message, suggesting his plan to help Armand, and although he’d been a little taken aback at first by the prospect of sleeping somewhere else, he’d agreed. He really wanted to support that troubled, beautiful soul.
So all he needed now was to pack his overnight bag, so he could test out the arrangement. 

In his bedroom, he stood in front of the wardrobe, contemplating his choices.

Pyjamas - which ones? The long-legged and long-sleeved ones would surely be best. Despite his higher sexual drive and his love for making his physicality be humbled by the clothes he wore, despite working in the musical business, he valued the privacy of his body. Only Louis got to see him naked, which is why the pyjamas didn’t get used all too often while he slept in their marital bed.
In the past, he’d used his body as a shield so people couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t reach his core, which he, if he was honest with himself, still protected with layers of performed sexuality. Or more like, using it to cope- 

Lestat sadly smiled to himself while closing the zipper of his bag. In a way, by what he suspected to be the reason for Armand’s PTSD, they had more in common than he’d assumed.

It was Louis who opened the front door for him.

“Mon Cher!” Lestat said, dropping his bag to the ground before opening his arms to wrap them closely around his husband.

“Hey, Les,” Louis answered, gently smiling into his shoulder.

“Missed me?”

Lestat didn't answer out loud and instead nodded, his long hair falling into Louis’ face.

He also tightened his hold, his fingers clenched into the back of Louis' shirt

Only now, being in Louis’ embrace, Lestat realised how upset he’d truly been, and how much peace returned to him now.

“You okay?” Louis mumbled, bringing one hand up to trail his fingers through Lestat's hair - gently. Always gently. 

Well, except for when he didn't want him to be.

Lestat inhaled deeply and then let out a shuddering breath.

“This isn't…won't be…easy.” 

“No,” Louis agreed and then slowly untangled himself from Lestat.

He took the bag and then motioned for his husband to follow him inside.

“It won't be easy. But we got this, you and me, and Armand - “
Louis stopped, and it didn’t go unnoticed to Lestat how his cheeks were starting to flush while saying that. It evoked a strange feeling inside of him…no, multiple. Jealousy, as always, the fear of not being enough - but also… a new kind of joy. Simple, uncomplicated joy.

But…it wasn’t only him, Louis and Armand, was it?

“How is our Claudia?... And Daniel?”

“See for yourself,” Louis said with a slightly mischievous smirk and led him through the entrance area and then to the left, where Lestat recognised the stairs from earlier that day. But instead of going up, Louis started to descend the other stairs - down. To the basement? Why were they headed there?

Lestat was confused, but he followed, knowing his husband would have a reason to go there.

They landed in the stairwell and had to walk through a door to get to the actual rooms. Room s , yes, because suddenly Lestat found himself in a hallway that looked just like a normal apartment one, minus the windows. Bright and friendly, decorated pleasantly with a few plants here and there. How were those surviving without sunlight?

Five doors led to different rooms, or as he assumed, different parts of the basement. It was huge. Must span underneath the whole area of the house above. 

Louis knocked against the first one on their left.

Children’s laughter came from inside - and when Louis and Lestat entered, they found Claudia and Daniel sitting on a mountain of pillows on top of what looked like a large crash-mat, staring at a pull-down screen at the opposite wall where an animated movie was currently playing. 

“The movie is not over yet, you said we could finish it!” Claudia said, instead of a greeting, while Daniel just turned around and smiled at Lestat - a bit less shyly than in the morning. 

“Yes, Claw, I said that. Just wanted to show Lestat where you are and how much fun you’re having.” 

Relieved, Claudia refocused her attention on the movie, evoking a chuckle from Louis and a pout from Lestat. 

“Claudia, will you not say hello to your Dad?”

“Hi Daddy Les,” Claudia answered without looking at him. Louis shrugged and ushered Lestat out of the room. 

Once they were in the hallway, the door closed behind them, Lestat dropped his jaw, blinking at Louis with confusion.

“They have a home cinema?”

“Yup. Totally normal, huh?”

“Of course,” Lestat said, his tone dripping with irony.

Louis laughed at that, and then reached for Lestat’s hand, which he gladly offered. Hand in hand, they climbed the stairs back up and then to the second story.

“But as you see, the kids are fine. After the pizza, they did their homework, played outside a bit, then inside, and then I helped them prepare some dinner. Bread and veggies, Armand still had.”

“You are so good with children, mon cœur,” Lestat replied, squeezing Louis’ hand with fondness.

“Thank you, love. But, tell me that again in a few years when our Claudia is gonna become a probably feisty teen, set to butt heads with her dads at every corner.”

Lestat couldn’t argue with that, so he smirked instead.

They arrived at the living room - which, as Louis had told him while approaching, wasn’t even the main living room - that one was downstairs. How many rooms did three people need in a house? It started to remind Lestat of his childhood home. Big rooms, emptied out by the marshal who came to claim the money his father spent all on-

He didn’t want to go there. He was as far from there as he could get; Auvergne now just being a memory that got thinner and weaker with each day he spent in this country.

“Is he still sitting there?” Lestat asked, forcing himself back to the current moment.

Louis let out a long sigh and then nodded.

“Yeah. Tried to get him to come with us into the garden, but he said he couldn’t. At least he stayed out of bed and there were no further crashes. Oh, once he got up.”

“Crashes?”

“Uhm, the…flashbacks.”

Lestat hummed and then entered the room first, automatically smiling when he saw Armand, which turned into pity when he saw the curled up silhouette on the couch in the half-dark room, only the flickering and changing light of a screen giving a hint that there was life present.

“Hey,” Louis said, following inside, “Lestat’s here now.”

A jolt went through Armand’s body, and he sat up - two pairs of eyes meeting each other with unspoken words and feelings behind them. Or at least that is what Lestat assumed.

“Bonsoir. Is there light in this room? I must admit I find it hard to see you like this, and I would very much like to do so.”

Armand wordlessly pointed at the floor lamp that stood right next to the other side of the couch. Biting back a comment, Lestat crossed the room to turn it on, and when he did, he found Armand squinting at him out of two tired, red-rimmed eyes.

He did not look well. Lestat hadn’t truly expected any magic to happen while he was at work, there was no kind of spell that would make Armand’s pain disappear just so, but to see him still this distraught made his heart ache.

“Hello,” he finally said, in such a small voice that Lestat wanted to hug him.

“Are the children okay?”

Lestat smiled gently at him.
“Oui, I just saw how happy they looked to watch a movie… which one is it, by the way? I didn’t stay long enough to see.”

“I think…one of the…” Armand trailed off, his gaze looking empty once again, as if he couldn’t find what he was searching for.

“Piglet’s Big Movie.” Louis helped.

“Oh, Winnie the Pooh, non? I always liked Piglet, so small yet the most courageous of all.” Lestat wanted to add something to the conversation, wanted to make Armand talk, perhaps… but all he got was a soft nod from the bundle of depression lying there on the couch, a throw blanket covering everything except Armand’s head and the arm that was holding the tablet.

Louis waved Lestat towards the door and Lestat complied, following Louis back into the hallway.

“Les, he hasn’t eaten anything besides a few pizza slices. I’ve ordered you a pizza to heat up, for dinner. Could you urge him to finish his portion, too?”

“So kind of you, mon Louis,” Lestat said, beaming from ear to ear. True, he hadn’t much either and was thankful that Louis was so thoughtful to consider him.

He reassured Louis that he would nudge Armand to eat with him, and then he let himself be led downstairs again, to the guest room.

“Why do you know your way around the house so well, mon ami?”

Louis hummed at the question, considering.

“In the afternoon, shortly after you were gone and after we ate, Armand got up for a few minutes to give me a little tour. Must have exhausted him…”

Lestat was satisfied with that answer.

After throwing his bag into the room, Lestat went straight to the kitchen, searching for the promised pizza - there it was, sitting on the kitchen island counter. He opened the lid and smiled when he was greeted with the sight of a delicious-looking Hawaiian Pizza. 

Twenty minutes later, after Louis and Claudia had said their goodbyes and gone home, the pizza looked even better, while it heated up in the oven, together with half of Armand’s pizza. He could have used the microwave, but this way it would taste better, and secondly, give him more time to contemplate how to approach all of this.
The warm oven glow had something calming… he just hoped, the rest of the evening and the night would go calm as well.

Chapter Text

The way Armand stared at the pizza slices as if they had personally offended him was almost cute - if it wasn’t also causing Lestat to worry about him. 

He had tried to motivate him, to urge him, but he didn’t possess the magic Louis had, regarding that. Of course, he could manipulate people to do what he wanted or get him what he desired, but most of the time, that had the side effect of people being annoyed or starting to dislike him in the long run… An option that was simply not permissible when it came to Armand. 

“If you could just -”

“Stop!” Armand said, his eyes meeting Lestat’s with a fiery expression. After thirty minutes of being met with silence and a blank expression, this change of mood was not unwelcome. Anger was better than emptiness, or at least that’s what Lestat told himself as he held eye contact, withstanding the little voice inside of him that wanted to buckle under the emotion displayed.

“Yes?” Lestat asked, perhaps a little snappier than he meant to.

“I am not a child. If I do not want to eat that, you cannot force me to! It is not your business.”

“Of course you are not a child. But you must realise that being in the state that you are in, you might not be able to make the best decisions about what your body needs, not without help. If you had a broken arm, or, two broken arms, you’d have to rely on help too and nobody would suggest you were a child for not being able to care for yourself as well in such a circumstance.”

Armand’s expression didn’t change, but he shifted on the couch, pulling the throw blanket a little tighter around him.

“When I had a broken -”  He stopped and looked away, his gaze trailing off into the distance.
Lestat leaned in a little, his eyebrows drawn together and his head tilted slightly.

The sudden urge to touch Armand, to comfort him in that way, almost overwhelmed him. Well, not the urge - but the knowledge that he’d better keep his hands to himself for now. 

“Mon tendre ami…”
Lestat paused when Armand’s head whirled around at the term of endearment, and before he continued to speak he briefly smiled.

“I am not interested in making you feel like I am here to force you to do anything. Je suis là pour t'aider, remember?”

Armand’s sharp gaze lingered for a moment, before he seemingly yielded and sank back into the couch, deflating like a balloon that had met its untimely end by a needle.

“I know,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“Thank you for getting Daniel to bed. I appreciate that.”

Lestat smiled again.
“It was nothing. You’re quite welcome.”

Some could have argued that this statement was a half-lie. Getting Daniel to bed wasn’t as easy as Lestat wanted to make Armand believe. Partly, because the boy had still been agitated, worrying about his dad, naturally. And partly because Daniel, while getting dressed in his room and then brushing his teeth in the bathroom, had insisted on telling Lestat the whole plot of the movie through the slightly ajar doors, while Lestat had waited outside, gathering all of his own dad strength to stay patient. But after all that, and after he’d hugged his dad good night, Daniel went to bed without complaints.

After a moment of silence that felt almost comfortable, Lestat cleared his throat, and announced that he would bring the plates back into the kitchen - to which Armand nodded. When Lestat reached for his plate, Armand quickly grabbed one pizza slice, putting it onto the paper towel that still lay on the table. 

“To… try again. Perhaps.”

Lestat had to bite his lip to not cheer out loud.

While Lestat was busy in the kitchen, Armand turned and prodded the pizza slice with his hands.

He had mostly taken it for Lestat’s sake - he had no real interest in eating it. 

His relationship with food was a strange one.
Despite having had many reasons to do so, Armand had never developed a full-blown eating disorder. But that didn’t mean, that he wasn’t going through phases of disordered eating from time to time.
It was almost funny, how the order of two words was the distinguishing factor between the two concepts - not that anything about the concepts themselves was funny.

To the contrary. It was frustrating.

It wasn’t that he was forbidding himself from eating. He wasn’t counting calories, or was obsessed about his weight.
But it was hard, implausibly hard, to get himself to consume food when his body felt like it was floating, when he wasn’t truly here … When any change, be it small, needed all his focus to process. When his mouth was dry, it was difficult to drink, because the state of wetness could be overwhelming. Same with having food between his teeth. That could be the autism speaking - but then there was also the slowing of his movements which was caused by his depression. He had to open his mouth, put something inside, use his jaw muscles to chew and then swallow it down only to do it all over again with the next bite. 

A ridiculous thought, perhaps, for one who wasn’t affected. He wasn’t sure. He only knew that it had always been this way, and it wasn’t even all of what it entailed.

“It is quite late,” Lestat’s voice suddenly came from the doorway, where he stood. His gaze flickered to the pizza piece but he didn’t comment on it. 

Was it late? Admittedly, Armand had lost all sense for time today. After he’d been stuck in a particularly bad flashback, which is how he was found by the others, time just seemed to flow and trickle through his mind like a gentle stream, passing every obstacle but unsure of its destination either.

Groggily, he put the pizza down again and instead reached for his phone, turning on the screen.

It was 11 pm. Not that late in the overall sense, but after the day they’d had he supposed that an argument could be made.

“Do you wish to sleep? Has Louis shown you the -”

“My bag is in the guest room, yes. I am tired… but I wanted to ask you something first.”

“Which is?”

Lestat slowly approached, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know how to phrase his request.

“Don’t take this the wrong way… I just wanted to - Hmm. How to say - Okay. Do you feel up to taking a shower?”

Armand felt panic rise within him at the question. Was Lestat disgusted by the way he looked or smelled? He wouldn’t blame him… 

Before his mind could fully spiral, Lestat seemed to have noticed his outward non-reaction because he quickly approached and took a seat on the couch. So quickly, that Armand winced at the sudden movement of the cushions.

“Hey I just… I like you a lot, Armand. And I want you to be healthy. As much as you can right now. You are beautiful, with or without being clean. But you can’t deny that hygiene is important -”

“You think… that I am beautiful?” Armand asked, his heart beating wildly after hearing that. This wasn’t what he’d expected. At all.

Lestat’s eyes began to sparkle with something Armand couldn’t quite interpret, but it seemed warm, positive, inviting.

“As beautiful as the rising sun, when its rays are touching the earth with radiance, making the morning dew on the leaves glisten.”

Armand swallowed hard. For once, he was lost in Lestat’s soft gaze, and the words he’d spoken made his insides melt with longing. But there was this nasty part of his mind, never shutting up, telling him that it could be a trick - or that it was a euphemism and that this was about sex-

Armand looked down and inhaled deeply.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do. I- … I care about you, Armand.”

Lestat cared about him. Maybe… maybe Armand had been wrong all along. Maybe they had never meant to objectify him. Lestat’s words made his shield drop just enough to let through some of his vulnerability. And honesty.

“I care about you too. You, and Louis.”

Lestat grinned like a child on Christmas Eve. Yes, Christmas Eve, not the morning, because when Armand had started to celebrate the cultural side of Christmas after getting Daniel, it’d been in France and they kept that tradition, even after moving here. 

It was a wobbly line between being a pleasant event, a good time with his son, and a trigger feast but in the last years he’d managed to survive it well enough.

Thinking of triggers…

“I want to shower. It is…difficult. The steps involved are exhausting and then there is-”

He stopped, casting an unsure glance at Lestat, who sat patiently, and gently nodded. Gathering his courage, Armand decided to open up a bit - just enough for what was necessary. 

“In my past… my childhood. People… many people… took advantage of me. In my youth, history repeated itself. In my adulthood, I never had healthy relationships either. When I say that I was taking advantage of, I mean…” His voice grew quieter towards the end and then stopped altogether. It was rough, to actually say the words. 

“Sexual abuse?” Lestat offered and Armand quickly nodded, turning his head away, chin dropping to his chest as he let out a heavy breath. He hated to reveal that about himself, it made him look like a broken thing and that would make him more easily a target for-

“There is no shame in that. And you are not alone with this. Probably not to the prevalence you had to endure but I… know what that is like.”

Armand lifted his head slowly, and when he met Lestat’s gaze, there was sadness in his eyes. A sadness that Armand himself could feel ascending from the pits of the unconscious to the forefront of his mind.

This information was… It should surprise Armand. Somehow, it didn’t. Not that he had ever consciously thought that Lestat could have been a victim of such a crime too, but maybe it had been a feeling. He wasn’t sure.

He should probably say something. What did people say in such situations?

“I am sorry to hear that. Do you wish to talk about it?”

“No,” Lestat said quickly, shaking his head before looking back at Armand with a mixed expression, confusing him a little. “I… haven’t even discussed that with Louis. I … might tell you, one day. But this isn’t about me. This is about how I can help you… and I have an idea.”

Armand nodded, understanding where Lestat was coming from. Then he tilted his head in slight intrigue.

“An idea?”

“Yes. Back when… after… After it happened to me, I was sixteen years old, I struggled to shower too. I was scared of it, scared that… I felt vulnerable with my bare skin exposed to the room although I knew that there was no one inside but myself. It was my mother, who helped me during that time. There are many bad things to say about her, but she was, after all, the less bad parent, and in this she seemed to remember that a mother is supposed to show love to her children.”

Armand listened, holding his breath. The image of a younger Lestat, being beaten by the world and displaying such fear and insecurity, didn’t sit right with him and something inside him made Armand wish he could turn back time, to save that boy. 

“She used to sit outside of the bathroom, with her back against the closed door, not unlike a knight standing guard to protect those behind the castle walls. It helped me to feel safer, to stay grounded in reality and not let my mind drift away to… Anyway. This is what I am suggesting now, that I could do the same for you.”

Armand thought about it. Would this help him? Or would the thought of Lestat sitting outside the door of where he was naked evoke rather different reactions that he was still not prepared to deal with today? But then… wouldn’t that still be better than having flashbacks, than feeling unsafe? And a shower might help him, he knew it would… 

“I think I want to try that.”

“Great!” Lestat exclaimed, jumping up from the couch with urgency - Armand followed, sluggishly, and together they headed towards his bedroom. 

After Lestat had helped him pick out clean towels and replace the empty shampoo and soap bottles with new ones from the storage, he’d left Armand inside the room to tend to himself, closed the door and like he’d promised, sat outside, his back against the wooden door. He knew it was symbolic, that no danger would come through the door of Armand’s bedroom, but nonetheless, he tried to stay alert. In case Armand needed him. Only when he heard the sound of running water, he allowed himself to relax slightly.

He’d left his phone in the kitchen, he realised - so all he could do now, was let his gaze wander around the room, taking in Armand’s style of interior design and decoration.

There wasn’t much - grey walls, furniture in black, grey and white tones. Some plants that brought in a little colour. Otherwise, the room looked very modern. Not futuristic - but contemporary. Not like his and Louis’ room which was inspired by 1920’s decor. But, the more Lestat looked around, the more he liked it. It seemed fitting, in a way. He thought some more about that, about Louis… about what his husband was doing now. Maybe getting ready for bed…For the bed, where he would sleep alone tonight and probably the next nights too.

When the water finally turned off, it took a few minutes, before Lestat heard steps approaching the door. Quickly he stood up, making way for it to open.
Armand walked out, dressed in a fresh, long pyjama not unlike Lestat owned himself, his wet hair hanging into his face. Without a word he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, his hands holding onto the mattress.

“Are you alright?” Lestat asked because he couldn’t decide whether he was or not - he looked better, a bit more awake, but that was probably the effect of the shower. The way he sat there staring into empty space, suggested the opposite.

“I am… I cannot say that I am, but it was not as devastating as I feared.” Armand answered and Lestat took that as a win.

It was a bit awkward how Lestat just stood there, gazing at Armand - in any other circumstance, he’d be salivating about the sight of his body. But he pushed that away for now.

So he was glad when Armand asked him to bring him his brush from the bathroom. Of course, Lestat obliged.

He was quite happy about the fact that Armand started to think of such things as hair brushing again, so he hurried, returning with the brush in hand.
When he found Armand returned to a state of half dissociation, he secretly frowned.

“Here’s the brush…” He tried, and Armand turned his head to look at him, his hands fidgeting nervously with the bedsheet. 

“I don’t think I can-”

“Shall I do it? I can do it. If you want. I mean, if you’d let me.”
The words tumbled out of Lestat’s mouth before he even realised he’d thought them.

This felt…intimate. They hadn’t even hugged properly and now he’d suggested brushing his hair? Oh, Lestat…

“Yes. Please. I would…”

Lestat almost dropped the brush, blinking at Armand in rapid succession. 

“You mean - that I-”

A sudden spark entered Armand’s eyes - briefly, but enough to make Lestat shiver slightly.

“You suggested it. Are you scared to follow through?”

Lestat shook his head like in a trance - no, he wasn’t scared. Okay, maybe a little. Not scared - it was… he really wanted to and hadn’t thought he could.

Armand smiled and turned around on the bed, sitting cross-legged, so his back was now towards Lestat.
Carefully, Lestat stepped nearer and brought the brush, and his other hand, to Armand’s hair. When he started, he did it gently, mindful of his curly structure. It wasn’t the same as brushing Claudia’s, which Louis had taught him back when they’d adopted her. But it wasn’t like brushing his own either.
Either Lestat imagined it or Armand truly made little noises of satisfaction, when he ran his fingers through to prepare for the instrument. It almost reminded Lestat of a cat’s purring and now, wasn’t that a thought to enjoy …later. He wasn’t here for that, he was here to support, to give care.
But Armand wouldn’t see the warm smile on his lips, wouldn’t notice the dreamy look in his eyes - so he could allow himself at least that.

When Lestat said goodnight and went downstairs to get ready for bed himself, he was still thinking of the feeling of Armand’s soft, albeit damp, hair - the way he’d been allowed to run his fingers through it, along with the brush…

When he, dressed in his comfy pyjamas, slipped under the covers, he tried his very best not to turn to less innocent thoughts, thinking about how he could pull when-

Lestat sighed, shaking his head and pressing his face sideways into the pillow.
You’re not a horny teen, Lestat. And you don’t want to scare him off again, not after what he’s revealed to you. 

Now, Lestat had suspected that Armand might have suffered sexual abuse - it had been the way he’d reacted to their propositioning him combined with seeing his PTSD symptoms - his mind had drifted to Halloween, to how he never went trick or treating. First Lestat had thought nothing off it. It wasn’t uncommon in France not to do it. But then, the way he always flinched away from sudden movements, how in his eyes there was a heaviness, always - in short… He had made an educated guess, based on his own experiences. Of course it could have been other types of abuse and Armand told them this episode wasn’t triggered by that talk after dinner, but, blame him, that Lestat just couldn’t 100 % believe that. 

His thoughts drifted towards Louis… he was already asleep by now, he’d missed his goodnight message when he was sitting outside the bathroom door. He missed cuddling up to him, wrapping his arms around his husband… With another little sigh, he took the second pillow from the bed, and hugged it, imagining it was Louis. 

And with that thought, he slowly fell asleep, hoping the night wouldn’t bring any surprises.

Louis smiled tiredly, when Claudia emptied her cornflakes bowl by holding it to her mouth, drinking up the milk.

Last night he hadn’t gotten too much sleep. He’d tossed and turned, haunted by the heaviness of the day - he hoped that Lestat had fared better. He hadn’t heard from him yet but that was no surprise, he was probably still asleep.

“Daddy Lou?” Claudia asked, setting down her bowl a bit too harshly, making Louis nearly jump out of his skin.

“Yeah, munchkin?”

“Why were we at Daniel’s house until the evening? And why did Daddy Les sleep there?”

Louis hummed, taking a moment to consider his answer. His daughter was young, but she was not stupid. He decided to tell her the truth, packaged into something she could understand.

“Do you remember, when you were little, that I was at the hospital for a while?”

Claudia nodded, her eyes turning inquisitive as she remembered.

“You were there for ages!”

“I was there for two weeks, love,” Louis said and smiled at her, a bit sadly. He believed that for her, at age four, it must have felt like a long time.

“You were alone at home, with Lestat. And when I came back, I was better and could care for you better.”

“Yes! You smiled again!” 

“Exactly. So, Daniel’s dad feels similar to how I felt then - but Daniel doesn’t have a second parent who could care for him. So Armand can’t just go away like I could. We are helping him at home, so he can get well soon, and nobody else has to know.”

“Mhmm… but you aren’t doctors.”

“No, sweetheart,” Louis laughed a little. “But some things…you have to treat yourself. And we are helping him do that. That’s why this afternoon, I will collect you from school and, like yesterday, we’ll go to their house until the evening.”

“Yay!” Claudia said, jumping from her chair with joy.
“I can play with Daniel then!”

“Yeah,” Louis said, his heart warming at how important Daniel seemed to be to her.

“Oh, Daddy Lou?” Claudia asked, when she sat down again to finish her orange juice.

“Yes?”

“Does that mean that we’ll be there on Thursday too?”

“I mean…probably, yeah?”

Claudia smiled, but what she said next knocked the air out of Louis’ lungs.

“So we’ll celebrate Thanksgiving together!”

“Thanks- what?”

“Thanksgiving, this Thursday, did you forget?”

Fuck fuck fuck - he indeed, had forgotten it. How could he? This was- this was far from ideal. Holy Jesus, he needed to speak with Lestat. And with Grace - had they made plans? Why couldn’t he remember? Had he been so stressed out lately?

But one thing was clear…

“We’ll celebrate it together, yeah.” 

And he hoped, that it wouldn’t turn into a total disaster.

Chapter Text

The next two days went by as planned.
Lestat left Armand’s house at noon to spend some time at home before heading to work, handing the baton to Louis, who did his best to bring himself, Armand and the kids through the afternoon and evening. 

To Armand’s surprise, he quite liked to have them around. The circumstances and how he felt were awful, of course, but Louis’ and Lestat’s presence made him feel…more alive. 

Daniel was elated that he got to spend so much time with Claudia. The two seemed inseparable. In some aspects they were very alike - creativity, their love for good stories and for jumping around the place, their keen comprehension skills for learning things they enjoyed. And in others, they couldn’t be more different. Claudia was a social butterfly - Armand couldn’t describe it differently. She was also hot headed, not shying away from arguments, unlike Daniel who opted out of speaking as soon as the currents turned awry, to quote Shakespeare. That didn’t mean he wasn’t impulsive, of course he was, but it presented in a different way. Less in talking and more in his need to constantly be doing something or multiple things at once.

Seeing Daniel interact so freely and openly with Claudia calmed deeply buried worries that Armand had had for a long time. That it could have been the lack of contact with other children in his early childhood, that made Daniel struggle with social situations.

The first night that Lestat was at his house, Armand almost slept through until the morning - with a few interruptions. Not plagued by nightmares and without panic attacks in the darkness of his room, he dared to feel hopeful in the morning. Against all reason he thought that maybe this had been it - maybe it was just a little blip and he would go back to normal now. 

By early afternoon the harsh reality of his current state knocked those hopes right out of his mind. Louis had urged him to text his therapist - Armand, in the mood for a little joke, had called it “outright bullying”, how persistently Louis pursued his goal.

So, after a lengthy discussion with many sighs and annoyed stares, Armand gave in and did it. He could see the sense in it, it wasn’t that he was just mindlessly following orders. That time in his life was long over.

When his phone rang, a few minutes later, Armand nearly jumped from his chair. But he did his duty and took the call.

It was Mrs. Field. She wanted to know if he could attend their Wednesday appointment, and asked a few more questions.

No , Armand was not planning on hurting or killing himself.

No , he was not a danger to others.

Yes , Daniel was cared for. 

And… he wasn’t sure if he could make it to their session. That he’d managed to sit in the kitchen for that long in house clothes, not a pajama, was progress enough for now. The thought of actually going somewhere… Leaving his house, that he couldn’t do yet. 

Or at least that’s what he had convinced himself off. Because, when she offered to do the session remotely via screens, he did not feel much better about it.
With Louis’ expectant gaze lingering on him, he didn’t dare to say no.

When Louis left him to his own devices for a while to go and fetch Claudia and Daniel from school he might have thought a little too hard about the reasons for his resistance and doing that, he might have triggered himself into another spiral.

When Louis found him, he was kneeling on the downstairs bathroom floor, scrubbing away soap - which he’d spilled when he dropped the glass jar - from the tiles. 

He’d been…somewhere else, mentally, back in the youth home, trying to hide the flashbacks he was having there about his life before being in that house. He used to scrub his hands as hard as he could then, under hot or ice-cold water, trying to let the feeling ground him, keep him from screaming in the middle of the night. No good ever came to him by disrupting his “caregivers’” sleep. 

He didn’t go so far this time as to actually hurt himself. But his hands had been numb from the cold water, and thus the soap jar just slipped from his fingers, when he thought to refill it afterwards. 

“Need some help?” Louis asked, his brows furrowed as he watched the scene before him.

Armand shook his head.

“No. I just.. It was a little accident. I am fine.”

“Fine, huh?” Louis asked but didn’t press, which Armand was grateful for. 

“When you are finished here… come into the kitchen? We went to the store on the way here, bought some things. Thought you could help me cook.”

Armand huffed - as if he was in any state to do that - But then, Louis’ words echoed in his head.

Armand, you need to put in your fair share of work too.

So, with a forced smile, he just quickly nodded.

Louis unpacked the grocery bag one item at a time, putting it all out onto the counter. It had been a good idea to do the shopping now because he felt quite groggy this day, not really in the mood to go outside again until he would switch places with Lestat in the evening.

This was reflected in the meal choice he’d made.
When he was finished, he let his eyes wander over the ingredients.
Spaghetti, fresh tomatoes, some onions, a little garlic and basil, some olive oil and parmesan cheese.
A simple meal, for what he usually liked to cook. But since becoming a father he'd learnt that simple didn't mean bad and that sometimes it was just what was needed.

Other than the meal for Thanksgiving.

After Claudia had pointed it out this morning, Louis had checked his notes and calendars, and let out the biggest sigh of relief when he saw that nothing had been planned. Which was a blessing and a curse alike.

Grace, Levi and the kids couldn't come this year because they didn't get enough time off work to make the visit worthwhile. 

And Louis…wasn't the biggest fan of flying.

They had to wait until Christmas to see each other again, which Louis was perfectly fine with. He loved his sister, but he also loved his life with Lestat and those two didn't see eye to eye most of the time.

“That looks good.”

Louis looked to the door from where Armand walked into the kitchen, inspecting the displayed groceries.

“Yeah. Let's see if it'll taste good, too!”

Louis laughed and waved Armand closer. While he sat up two cutting boards and knives, he heard Armand hum something. A melody, that repeated itself, simple but with a smidge of melancholic deepness to it.

“What’s that?” He asked, placing some tomatoes on one board, and onions on another.

“Oh, that is just… it is a melody I hear in my dreams, sometimes? It is calming to me. I do not know the origin.”

Louis shrugged, placing himself in front of the board with the onion, and started to cut away. Armand went to work on the tomatoes.

“Do you need to know the origin?”

Armand considered this for a moment. The rhythmic sound of his chopping swayed a bit - then paused.

“If we do not know our origins, how can we know who we are?”

Oh. Louis certainly had not meant to start such a loaded conversation over cooking. Not that he didn’t enjoy philosophy and such debates, he did, but he wasn’t in the right state for that just that moment.

“That’s… that’s deep.”

The chopping continued.

“Apologies,” Armand mumbled and now it was Louis who had to put down his knife to turn to Armand. Acting on impulse, he reached out, gently touching Armand’s moving hands with his own. Armand shook a bit but stilled, his head turned, looking at Louis out of wide questioning eyes.

“There is nothing you’d have to apologise for. You hear me? Nothing.”

Armand swallowed visibly and just continued to gaze into Louis’ eyes. Were the circumstances different, Louis would lean in and kiss him - he wanted it so bad, that he had to bite his own lip as he thought of what to say.

“Who we are…is more than where we once came from. Our past is a part of us, yes, but we are more than that. You are more than that. We are an everchanging puzzle of memories and moments, bound to grow, never reaching the margins. Not until our dying day.”

Some part of Louis laughed at himself, another was amazed by his choice of words. Since when was he one to use such deep, loaded language? Huh… When he thought about it - he had used it, in the past. There was this poetic side to him, which he’d carefully buried under layers of performed masculinity, back when he was still a teenager. It had been safer, under the watchful eyes of his homophobic parents, to act like he’d finally “manned up”. It had been Lestat, who found the right tool to break through that shield, who had reached his heart like no one else -
No one else, before -

Louis didn’t have the time to finish that thought. Because, quite suddenly, Armand began to shake, and then it wasn’t long until thick tears streamed down his face. By the time Louis had brought a hand up to wipe it away, he was full on sobbing.
Taking a risk, Louis opened his arms and wrapped them around Armand, holding him, as the man cried against his shoulder.

“It’s alright. Let it out. You need to, huh?”

He seemed to.

For a full three minutes Armand was frozen in place while Louis pulled him tightly towards his chest, soothingly rubbing circles across his back.

Only when then the sobs died down to sniffles and some bodily tension returned to him, Louis let go of him. It didn’t take five seconds before Armand had stepped away, staring at the ground, mumbling something incorrigible. Then he briefly looked up once, flinching when he met Louis’ gaze, and darted out of the room.

Louis sighed, and turned back to the vegetables. If Armand needed a moment, who was he to deny him that?

It had taken Armand only a few minutes to compose himself. Although his insides screamed at him to hide, to stay away from Louis’ gaze, he didn’t give into that impulse. He wasn’t a coward. This was his house and he for sure wouldn’t barricade himself somewhere. Besides, Louis still needed his help with cooking. 

So, returning to the kitchen was what he did, a conversation topic ready on his tongue so he wouldn't have to speak about what happened.

When Lestat joined them in the evening, Louis and Armand ate with him, having only eaten small portions before. Reheated pasta was never as good as fresh one, but by the sounds Lestat made, it was edible enough.

This felt…strangely reminiscent of the dinner situation at Louis’ and Lestat’s house.

Good that the only topic they’d planned to discuss this time had nothing to do with sexual advances, and everything with how they were going to spend Thanksgiving.

Although that question had surprised him. Armand and Daniel didn't celebrate that holiday. Simply for the fact that from all Armand knew about it, it seemed to have been based on myths and half-truths, warped historical accounts of white colonizers - why should they celebrate something like that? He'd said as much, while rolling up his spaghetti on a fork, only eating because he was under the watchful eyes of both Louis and Lestat. Daniel and Claudia had already been done with dinner and were - doing something , somewhere .

“I mean, yeah,” Louis said, shrugging as he added some parmesan cheese to his portion, “obviously you have a point. But also, it's just…tradition. It's not like we're participating in any events that make the kids play pilgrim dress-up or wear the mockery of indigenous feather headbands they sell at some places.

We chose middle ground there. A day to spend with family, eat nice food, that stuff.”

“Maybe it is something us European immigrants cannot grasp,” Lestat added, “I know that there exist church celebrations that were once pagan harvest feasts, before they were adapted by the catholic church as a form of Thanksgiving to their God, all over the old continent. But that is rather unpolitical, well, as unpolitical as Christianity can be.”

The mention of being a European immigrant set something off inside of Armand, but it was too little to grasp just yet. He nodded slowly…yes, he knew the catholic version of that as well. When he was in the cul-

No, he couldn't go there, not now. Stay in the present, Armand.

Louis huffed at the mention of church, which made Armand let out a relieved sigh. He didn't hold anything against people with religious beliefs, who kept them to themselves on request at least, but he never wanted to have anything to do with the church again. 

Louis’ words rang through Armand’s head.

A day to spend with family … Why were they asking Armand and Daniel to join in, then? Wouldn't they intrude?

“Usually Grace and her family visit, or we visit them… This year, they can't. And, we do not mean to pull back our offer to support you just because it is a holiday.”

Lestat's answer made Armand realise that he must have asked his questions out loud. He stared at his plate, hating how he couldn't act normal around them, couldn't escape his learned behaviour of fawning and hiding away.

People often took him for a hurt deer, when they couldn't know that inside, he more often than not felt like a wolf. A lonely, hurt wolf, but nonetheless one that could bite when threatened. He wasn't an innocent baby - he was a grown man who was more than able to manipulate people so they wouldn't turn away from him. Whose fears had sometimes, in the past, led him to act like a shark, chasing people's bloody wounds so he could use them for his gain. He was trying not to be like that anymore. It wasn't selfishness…or was it? But he surely wouldn't say no to being invited to a holiday celebration with Louis and Lestat, now that the offer was on the table. He wasn't beneath leaving moral qualms aside to have this . Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but he’d choose being treated with pity over being faced with indifference every time.

So, it was decided. 

They would all spend that day at Armand's house, doing various activities, and making a grand dinner in the evening. Lestat and Louis would plan this, Armand would be responsible for choosing a movie to watch afterwards. And then another one, for when the children were asleep. And, he decided, he would make the dining room look beautiful that evening. Despite what he’d thought about unnecessary fancy regarding tableware - special occasions warranted special effort. 

But before that day, he had to endure a night, then a day with the dreaded therapy appointment, and another night.

He would survive it. Somehow.

Armand stared at his own camera image on the screen, trying to determine if he looked collected enough. 

His hair sat nicely - Lestat had brushed it again, last night, and the memory of it still filled Armand with a calm kind of joy.

He was wearing one of his usual dress shirts - through the screen his therapist wouldn't see that he was wearing pyjama bottoms, so it didn't matter.

What he couldn't hide were the bags under his eyes, the way his face sagged when he wasn't putting on a smile.

But he wasn't in therapy because he was in such good mental health, was he?

The pling of someone joining the digital room sent a jolt through Armand's body.

The video image of Mrs. Field appeared on his screen.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice chippy yet also calm as usual.

“Hello,” Armand said because at 11 am one could hardly argue it to be morning still. Although, for him and his current rhythm, it was.

“I am glad it worked out for you to attend our appointment, digital as it is. I think that being in a room together, physically, is still the best way to do therapy, but if technology helps to compensate when it isn't possible to meet in person, I am the last person to say no to that.”

Armand forced a smile and nodded, studying what he saw on the screen.

She was in her office - Armand recognised the wall of bookcases behind her, the daylight falling into the room from the window to her left, to the right from his perspective, illuminating the space and emphasizing the furnitures’ wood grain. 

She must be in possession of a good quality camera for him to see those details from here.

“How are you?” Came the dreaded question and Armand sighed, leaning back a bit into his office chair. 

“I… feel better than I have before?”

A weak answer, he knew. 

And after a bit of gentle prodding by her, he relented, spilling the recent developments of his mental state, telling her about the flashbacks. But also about the way Louis and Lestat were helping him, to which she smiled. She asked a few basic questions, like she had on the phone and he supposed that it was something she had to do - but then she asked one, that hit Armand out of nowhere.

“Have you finished reading the email?”

His body went rigid as he pondered that. So rigid in fact that after a minute of him not moving, Mrs. Field started leaning towards the camera as if to inspect him closer.

“Are you still there? Or has the connection-”

“I am here,” Armand hurriedly said. 

“I just do not know what I… I mean … No. I have not finished reading the…email.” 

A pause. A pause that went on for so long that Armand couldn’t endure the silence.

“Reading the beginning has sent me into this…mess. If I am to read all of it, who knows what else could happen to me?”

“Do you think something will happen to you? In the present?”

Armand furrowed his brows, turning the fidget spinner in his hand harder than before. He didn’t answer, so his therapist spoke again.

“I know that reliving past memories can be painful, upsetting-”

“That puts it mildly.”

“... However, they are just that. Memories. You are safe now, Armand. You are not there anymore. You are an adult who has made his own life for himself, and for your son. You are not Amadeo anymore. You are not the little boy that came before Amadeo. They are a part of you, your old selves, but they do not have to control you.”

“How do I… get rid of those parts?”

“You cannot. What you can do, with techniques such as EMDR, is to integrate your traumatic past into your normal memories, process them, so it won’t haunt you like it does now. Running away from it, or hiding, doesn’t solve the underlying problem.”

“When will we start with that?”

“Not anytime soon. What we will focus on first is to help you find strategies to stabilize yourself, ways to stop the flashbacks and dissociation when they happen. The complexity of your traumatic history warrants, in my professional opinion, a clinical and inpatient setting to start with that. So you can focus completely on the therapy.”

“I cannot leave Daniel alone -”

“If I’d put you on the waiting list soon, you can expect, even with private healthcare, at least four months of waiting time, probably more than that. Plenty of time to make arrangements for Daniel to be taken care of doing your treatment. And, from what you’ve told me, you are in the midst of building a support network. That’s great!”

“I am not building anything. They pressed me to accept the help. Coercion.” He said, but couldn’t help the little smile that betrayed the supposed intent of his words. 

“And choosing to accept it is still active work on your part.”

“I…suppose?”

He thought about this for a moment. In a way, she was right. In the past he would never have said yes to the way Louis and Lestat slipped into his space, into his house, like it was a natural thing to do, like they were a family already -

Already?

“Think about the treatment option, yeah?” Mrs. Field said and Armand found himself nodding because a part of him knew that she was right, that her argument was valid- still, he couldn’t imagine leaving Daniel for weeks or probably months.
But thinking about it, he could.

The session went on for a little longer, and when they said goodbye and he could finally log off, he slumped into the chair, an exasperated sigh making the curls hanging from his forehead move a little.

He wanted to rest… He wanted to sleep. No, not sleep, for that was when the nightmares came. He wanted -

His gaze fell onto the little mail icon on the laptop screen. With shaky hands he pushed himself upright and then, like ripping off a band-aid - a nasty, crusted, too sticky band-aid - he opened the mail program, scrolling until he found the culprit of all this turmoil. No, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t blame Riccardo for this. Riccardo, wonderful, patient, caring Riccardo who had acted as his brother when they were in that abusive foster home. Thinking about that phase of his life made him shiver in his seat and he couldn’t say if it had been better or worse than everything that had happened before. Technically it was less abusive, overall, then what he’d endured in his childhood. But subjectively, it felt worse - his memories about it were clearer, more present. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts and back to reality, where he now bravely clicked to open Riccardo’s mail, which did so in a pop up window. 

He began to read the first two lines, his stomach sinking again -
Oh. Something occurred to him. Maybe, he didn’t have to do it alone. Now, the reading he would do alone, he couldn’t know the contents of the text so it was for his eyes only. But he didn’t have to be alone, during it. 

Armand grabbed his phone, preferring this way of communication to yelling through the house - theirs was a house, where people didn’t yell. Yelling was only for dangerous situations, or when emotional overwhelm spiralled out of control, but never, never deliberately. 

From: Armand
To: Lestat

Could you come upstairs? I ended the therapy session and I want to read the mail. I do not want to be alone… Please.

When Lestat reached the top floor, he saw Armand standing next to the landing, leaning against the fence that separated the upstairs hallway from the open space above the downstairs entrance. He was rocking back and forth a bit, his notebook clasped between his hands.

“The office is too small for two people to sit comfortably so I…we could go into the living room?”

Lestat nodded, but then thought about how nice the weather was outside and how a little bit of moderate sunshine could do them both some good.

“Doesn't the room also have a balcony? We could get some fresh air, while you read. We should put on jackets, but otherwise the weather is sublime.”

Armand smiled a little, and in that moment he looked so precious, like something to be protected forever. Someone Lestat wanted to protect, someone Lestat wanted to … Okay, it was too early to speak of love. Nonetheless, he wanted to open up with all the affection he held for the man, and wrap him in it. 

And, what surprised Lestat the most… He longed for that emotional embrace to be returned. It wasn't that Louis’ love wasn't enough - it was, he had no doubt about it. It felt more like his heart had expanded, as if next to the chamber that wore his husband's name, and the one for his daughter, another had appeared, distinctly Armand-titled and ready to be filled.

After getting their jackets they went outside, sitting down into the lounge chairs. Lestat relaxing into it while Armand sat on the edge, hands shaking.

Lestat wanted to help him, but he wasn't sure how.

“Armand … is there something I can do, to prevent you from…drifting away? Or something to get you back?”

Armand seemed surprised as he turned his head and considered the question.

“Cold is good … Or you can… you may take my hands and squeeze them. I do not take kindly to being touched otherwise when I- If I dissociate.”

“Noted,” Lestat said and then let his gaze wander down to the garden, which lay quiet during this time of the day. 

Occasionally he glanced at Armand, to see if he was fine - he seemed fixated on the screen, his body unmoving, yet Lestat could see his eyes move, jump from line to line. He was present, just completely engulfed in what he was doing.
Just as Lestat decided to close his eyes a little and relax in the autumn sun, a loud gasp, followed by the rather harsh snapping shut of the notebook made him sit up and look at Armand with worry in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Armand said, while shaking his head. “No. I mean. Yes?”

Lestat studied his expression carefully, or rather tried to, because Armand’s face was a mask made from stone.

“Did you…finish reading it?”

“Yes,” Armand snapped quite pointedly, instantly adding his apology. “Sorry. You mean well. I am just… I do not know what I am feeling right now. He wrote … He wants to…”

“Yes?” Lestat coaxed him to finish his sentence.

Armand sighed.

“He wants to…visit me.”

“Who is he?”

“Did I not - I did not tell you?”

Lestat shook his head.

“Someone from my past. Riccardo - he was like my brother. We endured together, the abuse… then he ran away, and left me behind. It has been almost twenty years and now, suddenly, why here, why now-” Armand trailed off into stammers that Lestat couldn’t discern, but he reached out and took one of Armand’s trembling hands in his. 

Armand looked at the hands, and then up into Lestat’s face.

“Okay. He wants to visit. So what? You don’t have to say yes," Lestat blurted out because that was the first thing that came to mind. 

“I know.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I … do not know. Yes, but also no…”

“You don’t have to see him now . Do you want to write back?”

Armand glanced to the closed notebook on his lap.
After a slow inhale, and an even slower exhale, he nodded quickly.

“I think I do. Yes. Not now. After tomorrow. I do not wish to ruin the holiday for your family with my unpredictable moods.”

“It’s called flashbacks, Armand. It’s not your fault. And if it happens… then so it’ll be. We’re all there and we can handle it. Together.”

Armand didn’t answer. But he also didn’t pull away his hand, and Lestat dared to bring his other hand to join their touch. He realised this was quite intimate, and he moved slowly, giving Armand every chance to say no.
He didn’t. When Lestat held his hand between both of his, Armand looked up with vulnerable eyes, and his body stiffened - at first. The longer they stayed like this, the more Lestat felt the tension leave Armand’s body, and he didn’t move until he was sure that the man was calm enough to process this. The email, the touch.

When, after a while, Armand’s face morphed into his usual, slightly guarded expression, Lestat smiled and pulled his hands back, before standing up.

“Lunch?” He asked in a giddy tone, eager to find a way to make Armand laugh.

Armand hesitated but then copied Lestat’s movement.

He nodded, but also rolled his eyes rather drastically. Cute.

“Lunch.”

The Mail

From: Riccardo Conti < [email protected] >

To: Armand Ducat <[email protected]>

Subject: Old Friends

Hello, 

I know that this might be a strange mail to reach you. 

It has been so long since we last saw each other. I am Riccardo, we lived together in that awful foster home in Paris. You were just fifteen when I decided to run away. 

I don’t think I need to say more, by now you should remember. And I am sorry if you do. But I had to try and contact you. I moved to the States just last year, and I am now taking some time to reflect on my life, my choices, and all the bad things that happened, too. A few years ago I went through trauma therapy and during that, I remembered my youth, remembered how even after I ran from the home, I always dreamed of reaching you somehow, of getting you out of there. But I couldn't, I was just a kid too and then I was trying to build a life for myself. 

Last week I was in Los Angeles, visiting an art gallery, when I suddenly saw your picture and your name on the list of associated art sellers. I was confused, because of course I know you under a different name, but I recognised you, there were no doubts about it. I am living in San Diego, quite close to you, considering that before I was on another continent, and now to be in the same state as you raises the urge to ask you:

Can I visit you? Can we talk? I really want to see you again. 

I want to tell you of my beautiful wife and our two lovely daughters, about my job, about the life I've lived. I want to know about your family, about what you do, how you got out of that terrible home. 

I have to admit that I looked you up on Instagram, but I didn't follow you just yet, I wanted to let you know about it first. You can find me there, the profile name is the same as that in my email address.

I would so love to hear back from you. But even if I don't, it's a gift to see that you have made a good life for yourself after the horrors ended.

Warm greetings,

Riccardo

Chapter Text

When Claudia woke up in the morning, she was a bit startled at first. Not fully awake yet, she wondered why she was sleeping on the floor, and why the room she was in looked so different from her bedroom… But after a few more seconds, she remembered.

Yesterday afternoon, Daddy Lou had taken her and Daniel to different stores to do the grocery shopping needed for today—it had taken so long! But it wasn't too boring. She and Daniel had been given a list for things to search, while her dad watched them from a short distance. It was cool to be allowed to help the adults to buy and then afterwards also prepare some of the food. Claudia hated it to be treated like a baby!

And then, after dinner, her dads and Daniel's dad told them that that night and the next they were all sleeping over at Daniel's house. That was a nice surprise! All the way to the car to pick up things from home, she was bubbling with excitement, talking to Daddy Les about how she and Daniel would stay up so late and talk and play games and tell stories to each other. It made her dad laugh so she continued to talk about it, enjoying how happy he looked. Sometimes he didn't.

And she really had planned to stay awake until the middle of the night… But after watching Encanto and acting out some of the scenes with Daniel and after playing their fifth round of UNO, she'd begun to grow so tired, the day had been long and they had done a lot of stuff…
It had not even been 11 pm when she fell asleep on her air mattress on the floor of Daniel's bedroom.

Which is where she was lying now, suddenly remembering that today was Thanksgiving! She sat up and looked up to the top bunk where Daniel was still sleeping and for a moment she thought about waking him but then decided against it. Instead, she stood up quietly and put on her slippers, to then exit the room and sneak downstairs to where the guest room was.

Louis woke up slowly, blinking against his tiredness while he nuzzled his face against Lestat's neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his husband. It had taken a while for him to fall asleep in the night, not used to the foreign room and although Lestat was by his side, he missed the comforting feeling of safety he felt in their own bedroom at home.

He didn't have much time to dwell on that. Louis jolted upright when he heard the door open slowly, and relaxed when he saw his daughter standing in the door, smiling brightly at him.

"Good morning!" She announced and within a few seconds she was at the foot end of the bed, jumping in which made the mattress wiggle.

"Mornin' hun," Louis said sleepily, opening his arms to invite Claudia in for cuddles. Lestat seemed undisturbed by it, judging by his soft snores not even changing their pace.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good!" Claudia said with a giggle and leaned her head against Louis' chest, who proceeded to scratch her head affectionately.

"Is Daddy Les still sleeping?"

"Yeah," Louis answered with a chuckle, "it seems he is hibernating."

"Oh, I know that word! It's when animals are asleep during the winter!"

"Exactly, my clever bean."

"Can I wake him up?"

Louis smirked and ruffled her hair.

"I don't see why not, but don't do it so-"

Claudia jumped over to attack Lestat's sleeping form with tickles, climbing onto and above him until she could reach his face with her fingers, proceeding to boop his nose.

"…Harshly," Louis finished his sentence, shaking his head about his daughter's antics, with a smile.

"What… Oh. Good Morning," Lestat said with a weary groan, stretching his arms into the air.

"It's Thanksgiving, Daddy Les!"

"Well yes, I am aware," came the tired answer and Louis had to bite his lip to not start laughing about the situation.

"One would think that on Thanksgiving at least a man would be allowed to sleep in-"

"But Daddy Les! It's already after 9!"

"What?" Louis asked, his eyes widening. "Really?"

"Yes! Look!" Claudia pointed to the clock on the wall which, holy shit, displayed the time as 9:22.

"Oh," Louis said and couldn't suppress a little eye roll—he had hoped for some…morning intimacy with Lestat, but they could forget about that now.

"All right, we should get up…Claudia, why don't you get ready, get Daniel and I'll make us some breakfast?"

"Yeah alright!"

And up and out through the door she went.

"The hurricane that is our daughter," Lestat said fondly while turning to Louis, who smiled at him.

"Good morning, Les," he said, bowing down to place a soft kiss on Lestat's lips.

"Oh… good morning, mon cher."

Armand stared at the shower like it was his enemy. He'd decided to try forcing himself to manage without someone guarding the door, utilising a breathing exercise his therapist had showed him to push away the unwanted thoughts and feelings. Because, if he was keeping his mind in the present, it really was just a shower. Yes, okay, the sensory issues still existed, but it was not dangerous. It was him and the water. Nothing more than that.

And although he hated every second of it, he pulled through, stepping out of the bathroom clean and feeling fresh and even more energised than before.

Now there was the question of clothing… Oh. And he should probably take his meds. Were the others up already? He could go and wake the children or-

Okay. One thing after the other now.

Fifteen minutes later, Armand exited his bedroom, wearing black pants and a purple dress shirt, his hair slightly slicked back like he used to have it when he was younger. It had been a sudden urge, he didn't really question why.

He walked to Daniel's door and knocked, but there came no reaction. When he heard laughter coming from downstairs, he could imagine why.
Quickly he walked downstairs and followed the sound all the way to the kitchen.
The picture that awaited him made him smirk with affection.

Lestat and Louis were busy at the counters, preparing food, while Daniel and Claudia chased each other around the kitchen table, playing a version of tag that Armand did not understand, laughing and having the time of their lives—although the looks on the two men's faces looked like they weren't.

"Good morning," Armand said, smiling when everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

"Morning!" Daniel and Claudia said almost simultaneously before resuming their game, but Louis and Lestat were not so quick to continue what they were doing. It took all Armand had not to blush at the way both of their gazes were stuck to him, looking him up at down with giddy smiles on their faces.
"Do I have something strange on my clothes?" He asked, enjoying the way they began to nervously giggle and then start talking over each other.

"No, I just-"
"Not at all-"
"You are-"
"You shirt is-"
"Your hair-"

Armand full-on grinned, for once enjoying soaking in the attention they gave him.

Louis and Lestat stopped talking, joining in with a grin themselves.

"Good to see you feel better today, Armand," Louis concluded, giving him another bright smile before going back to his cutting.

"Yes—it makes me glad too," Lestat said and then waved Armand nearer.
"We have started with some of the food preparation. If we do the pies now, then it won't get so stressful later."
Armand furrowed his brows at the statement.
"Pies? Plural?"

"Yup. Sweet potato pie and pecan pie, can't have Thanksgiving without 'em." Louis chuckled, and now Armand saw that he was chopping nuts and throwing them into a pan for roasting.

"I do not think I have ever tasted that."

"Really?" Louis asked with a little laugh, but then shrugged.
"At least then I don't need to worry that you had better than what my baking skills can produce."

Lestat huffed and shook his head with disbelief.
"Louis, don't hide your talent away like that… Your baked goods are always delicious."

Louis glanced up at Lestat and then Armand, but quickly looked down again.

"Okay, yeah, if you say so."

"If I say- Louis!"

Just as Armand wanted to answer something, Daniel ran past him, a little too close to the edge of the counter, and knocked a sugar bag down. Daniel froze and looked to the adults, who also stood still—but then Armand was the first to say something.

"Daniel, this is why I always tell you to be careful near food."

"I didn't do it on purpose, I-"

"I know. I am not mad at you. Just, help to clean it up, yes?"

"Okay, dad."

Together it was a quick act to sweep it up, thankfully, not much had been spilled.

"I was thinking," Armand began, after grabbing a donut from the pantry to eat for breakfast, "if I should give the children something to do so you will not be disturbed."

"What were you thinking?" Louis asked, looking at Daniel and Claudia who were running in the hallway now, their figures occasionally flashing past the doorway.

"Can Claudia swim?"

"Yes, we made sure of that—why are you asking?" Lestat tilted his head, a curious expression flickering over his face while he cut the sweet potatoes.

"We have the pool in the basement…"

"Oh, of course you have a pool!" Lestat exclaimed, his tone sliding the edge between humorous and slightly… mocking? That was confusing to Armand. He tried to ignore it and just continued talking.

"And the kids could swim while I watch them?"

"That's a nice idea. There's only one problem."

"Yes?"

"We didn't pack Claudia's swimsuit."

"Oh."

Armand felt a bit stupid for not thinking about that—but Louis' gentle smile made him feel at ease again.

"It's a nice idea, for a different time. How about we just send them outside? To the garden?"

Armand nodded—fresh air couldn't hurt.

"I will tell them."

And so he turned around to do his duty—if Lestat and Louis were doing all the cooking and baking, then this was the least he could do.

Daniel stared at the slip of paper in his hands, wondering how he should explain this with only one word.

They were playing fishbowl—Daniel knew the game from school and there he always managed to not get picked to be the one who had to explain or act the words. But now they were only five people and he had to be the one explaining. He found that with Claudia, his dad, Louis and Lestat, he didn't mind.
It was kids vs. adults, so it was only Claudia guessing now. They had won the first round, lost the second, so he wanted to try extra hard now.

Duck.

Everything he thought of was at least two words… Water bird was two words, right? Or was it one…?

"Come on, Daniel!" Claudia said, and Daniels swallowed and tapped his foot, thinking, and then-

Oh.

"Story!" He yelled, knowingly smirking at Claudia who didn't take three seconds before she guessed the word correctly.

The adults looked baffled, much to Daniel's enjoyment. Then they all laughed.
He liked that his dad was laughing again. He did it more now with Louis and Lestat around, and he hoped it would stay that way. Before noon he had played soccer with Daniel and Claudia, in the garden, and he seemed not as sad anymore as he'd been before. Something about how he was always staring at Claudia's dads was making him this way and they also stared back like that… Hm. He needed to talk with Claudia about it. Not today—but soon. Now they were playing until it was time for dinner, and oh boy, was he hungry already!

"Can we come in?"

Armand smiled as he folded the last two napkins into cones.

"Almost! A moment!"

He cast a sweeping gaze over the table, checking if everything was in its place. He'd put effort into setting and decorating the dinner table, more than he'd thought he would be able to. He'd ushered everyone away from the dining room, wanting to make this a surprise—he hoped the others would like it.

First, he'd covered it with a beige tablecloth, providing a nice backdrop. For plates he'd chosen the white ones on which painted golden small pine cones decorated the dark green edges. Then normal and wine glasses, silverware for cutlery and trivets for the pots and bowls with food they'd have. Between all that stood a candelabra in the middle and a few twigs from the garden gave it an even more whimsical look.

He'd even gone so far as to take out the dark green chair covers from storage and clothe the chairs in them, little bows decorating the backside.

The ceiling light, like many in their home, had colour-changing lightbulbs in them, controllable by app. Right now they were set to cast a warm, slightly yellowy glow to make the room feel even more inviting.

Should he light the candles now? Hm… No, better wait until they were all seated and the food stood on the table, he wasn't in the mood to deal with a knocked over burning candle and besides, it could be a ritual, to do before starting to eat, and he liked rituals. Growing up in Paris, he always prayed before each meal and of course he wasn't doing that anymore, but he sometimes missed the habit of it.

With a final nod to himself, he stepped back from the table and turned to the door, bracing himself for any kind of reaction. He was quite proud of his work but maybe Louis and Lestat would see it differently?

"You can come in now."

When Lestat opened the door, the first thing he noticed was how radiant Armand looked in the light from above.

"Hi," he said and automatically his expression moved into a warm smile.

Only then he looked at the table-

"Beautiful," he said, approaching it.

"Louis, come inside, you have to see this. Armand has outdone himself!"

"Of course, one sec," Lestat heard Louis's answer from the hallway, "Claudia, Daniel, lets go in the dining room!"

Once they were all in, Armand suddenly looked quite nervous, so while Louis and the kids marvelled at the decoration, Lestat took him aside, and began to softly speak to him.

"You have no reason to be worried, mon ami. We're all ecstatic about what you've created here, if you can't tell. Thank you for this, it's wonderful."

Armand smiled a little and fluttered his eyelashes downwards and it was pure agony not to be able to just grab his chin and pull him in for a kiss.

By the way Louis glanced at Armand, and then at Lestat, smirking slightly, his husband might have had a similar idea.

The twig decoration was barely visible, as they continued to set dish after dish on the table. While Lestat brought his Mac'n' Cheese and the cornbread to the table, Louis put down collard greens, black eyed peas and the barbequed turkey. Daniel walked slowly, carrying a saucer with gravy, while Claudia came in with cranberry sauce. For dessert they would have sweet potato pie and pecan pie. It was a true feast—and as they finally sat at the table, ready to start, Lestat realised that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, too focused on cooking and baking. Not a good example, in front of Armand whom him and Louis had nagged to have lunch.
But this one time it hardly mattered. And besides, the way he filled up on all the things on the table, until the view of more pie made him almost recoil, balanced it, surely.

During the meal they listened to stories that Daniel and Claudia were inventing together, mostly focused around animals living in nature, or commented on the food, talked about this and that…
Over and over again, warm glances were exchanged. Between Lestat and Louis, but also between them and Armand, who did his best to quickly look away and fiddle with his cutlery or take a sip of his juice, whenever the eye contact went on too long. Lestat's thoughts drifted towards what he'd thought earlier, but they didn't stop there, because when he watched Armand eating, the way he licked his lips—just quickly, probably thinking nobody would notice or maybe it was a subconscious behaviour—made heat rise in Lestat's body. His mind was very imaginative and, oh God, it did its best to prove it. At one time it got so bad that he had to excuse himself from the table to go splash cold water into his face.
As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he shook his head, frowning about how he was acting. It wasn't that he wanted to be like that … But he didn't know how to stop it, exactly. He wasn't doing anything wrong, thinking such explicit things, was he? He wouldn't act on it, not until there were clear signs or better yet words from Armand.
And with this in mind, he told his libido off, put on a brave smile and returned to the dining room.

After dinner and a quick cleanup—which meant dumping everything into the kitchen to deal with later—it was time for their movie night. They all went down to the basement into the little home cinema room, equipped with popcorn, lots of pillows and blankets.
Armand had put some thought into which movies to watch and he ended up choosing according to a theme.
It turned out that besides Armand, nobody had seen WALL-E before. Something which he could hardly believe—who wouldn't want to watch a movie about cute robots saving humanity? Robots were fascinating to Armand, the question of what it meant to be human hanging over the audiences head—something to think about.
Armand had chosen a corner of the room to sit in, back leaned against the padded wall, feeling the mat under him move with every fiddle and changing of seating positions the children did. Next to him, but with considerable distance, were Louis and Lestat, sharing a blanket, focused on the movie—except for the times when their gazes met, totally coincidental, of course.

They had to take a break in between, but Armand stayed in the room and in his spot because he didn't feel like moving and he felt comfortable here. Louis had looked at him a bit worried then and Armand really had to make an effort to explain this. Sometimes not changing anything about a position was great, calming. After a minute he got it, and stared a little too long at Armand's face, before leaving the room.

In the end, everyone loved the movie—Daniel declared that he was WALL-E and Claudia could be EVE and they would be good friends who do good in the world. They backed that sentiment up with a constant 'beep-boop' sound as they mechanically made their way out of the room with the adults following.
The good thing about it was, that this development might make future tidying sessions with Daniel easier. If Armand just had to say 'clean your room like WALL-E', maybe it would work? Parenting hack, right there. It was okay to use tricks from time to time, he was only a human. Armand chuckled at the irony of this, while loading the dishwasher, earning a funny glance from Lestat who was busy packing the leftovers and putting them in the fridge.

When the kitchen was rudimentary cleaned, they sent the children up to Daniel's room to play. It was time for the adult part of the evening—oh no, that sounded wrong. Armand blushed as he descended the basement stairs, glad that Louis and Lestat wouldn't see that. Or were able to look into his head, for the matter.

A few minutes later when they had assumed their positions in the home cinema, the light changed to a comfortable slightly violet tone, Armand took his phone out to start the movie—it was practical, that he had an app on it that worked as a remote.

"What are we watching?" Louis asked, and Armand barely suppressed the urge to facepalm himself.

"I have not told you?"

Louis and Lestat simultaneously shook their heads which looked quite funny to Armand.

"Blade Runner. It's-"
He stopped himself, looking down as if revealing this fact cost him vulnerability.
"It is my favourite movie. Of all times. Have you seen it? I have seen it so many times. The way they deal with the topic of humanity and artificial intelligence and how they question what it means to-"

Armand snapped his mouth shut as he realised his beginning infodump, glad to have ended it in time. But when he caught a glimpse at their faces, they strangely didn't look annoyed at all. Instead, they were staring at him out of wide eyes, their expression focused, as if Armand had just said the most interesting thing in the world.
It made his heart beat so fast that he had to lean against the wall and he wanted to giggle—but he didn't, he felt that would be too silly.

"I have seen it once, I think, it's been a decade maybe?" Louis said, making Armand get even more excited for some reason.

"Well, I haven't… Louis, do you think I will like this movie?"

Louis hesitated to give Lestat an answer and Armand began to fear what he would say—if Lestat wouldn't like the movie, he would be bored and that would be dreadful-

"I'm not sure. It's Sci-Fi, not your most favourite genre. But it's deep. If I remember correctly. You should give it a try."

"Mhm…." Lestat said, and then his gaze drifted to Armand.

"In any case, I am sure I will love watching this movie with you."

Armand flushed and muttered something under his breath, not even sure what it was himself. Lestat must have meant both of them with that statement, but why had he stared at him so intently?
In the violet lighting Lestat's and Louis' faces got even more contoured than they already were, and secretly Armand wished he could know what their lips tasted like, what their faces felt like under his fingers when he caressed their cheeks, their jaw, their-

"Wanna start now?" Louis said, releasing some of the tension that had clearly been there, probably for the better.

Armand nodded and with a click, the movie began to play.

At first, he was focused on the screen, how could he not when this was his absolute favourite. But after twenty minutes, he found himself looking at how Louis and Lestat were huddled up under the blanket, leaning against each other, so intimate—and he felt a pang of jealousy. Which wasn't fair, he knew, but… maybe for the first time, he got the very clear, undiluted thought that he wanted to be part of that. He wanted to be with them, both…
With a resigned sigh, he tried to concentrate on the movie but after only a minute, a sudden touch against where his hand was, made him whip his head around to see what was happening.

Lestat smiled at him and then looked at their hands, which were now so close together and it had been his hand touching Armand's… his hand lay there, open, an invitation. Out of wide eyes Armand looked up again and Lestat gave a little nod.
Armand took his hand and Lestat closed his, gently.
The feelings rushing through his body were almost indescribable. It was so grounding and yet exciting at the same time, it felt safe and yet a little scary. It was only handholding, but it was a clear gesture of intimacy, and Armand loved every second of it.
For minutes he stared at the screen, beaming and not really seeing anything of the movie, too distracted was he by the warmth of Lestat's hand, how his fingers intertwined with his made him feel connected.

And without realising, he inched a little closer to him. And closer. And closer. Until their shoulders practically touched, which made him gasp a little. When Lestat looked at him now, Armand had to look away to stop himself from leaning in and kissing him because although he wanted it, he also knew that it was too soon, that his triggers and his baggage didn't care for what he felt in the moment. He needed to feel even safer with them, before he could let that happen. For now he could only fantasise what it would be like, to kiss through the entire length of a movie, here or in an actual cinema, in the back row, the three of them…
Armand looked back at the screen.

Again it was Lestat demanding a break because 'his poor bladder couldn't take this' and this time he went alone, leaving Armand and Louis to gaze at each other with barely disguised affection.

"Armand?" Louis said and Armand swallowed down his nervousness.

"…Yes, Louis?"

"Do you want to… you know… cuddle? Would you like that?"

Armand's jaw dropped a little and he had to put effort into making himself look normal and not like he just won the main prize in a horse rally.

"I do not - I mean I want- This is… What I am saying -"

"Armand, look at me," Louis said, his tone just the amount between gentle and commanding.
He complied, his gaze snapping to Louis'.

"I would very much love to cuddle with you. Do you want that? Yes, or no?"

"…How?"

"We can figure that out. Yes, or no, Armand?"

Armand blushed but he couldn't deny that he wanted this, not any longer.

"Yes," he said, almost a whisper. Louis smiled at him, quite happily. Then he patted the space next to, where Lestat had been sitting.

"Come here."

And Armand followed because he was too nervous to think for himself. He loved how Louis handled this, handled his anxiety. His self-assured aura filled the empty space where Armand's doubts would normally creep in but now they didn't. With a careful breath he leaned against Louis, who took his arm and wrapped it around Armand's shoulder, pulling him closer. Not too much, not suffocating, no force behind it—but he could feel the weight of his arm and when he leaned his head against Louis' chest, Armand almost wanted to cry of happiness.
How long hadn't he had a touch like this? It must have been… years.

When Lestat returned, he didn't comment on the changed seating arrangements and instead took the spot on the other side of Armand, wordlessly offering his hand again for Armand to hold. He gladly took the offer.

When they started the movie again, Lestat came nearer, and Armand wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but in the last third of the movie Lestat's head was suddenly laying in Armand's lap—not too invasive, he was still a good distance away from his crotch. Armand couldn't resist bringing his hand down and feeling Lestat's hair under his fingers as he gently scratched his head as if he had done it a thousand times before.

By the time the end credits rolled, a sense of happiness and…hope, washed over Armand. Maybe, when he was fully out of the dark place he'd fallen into, they could talk more about this. How to approached this new, developing dynamic.
Because, as Lestat gazed up at him out of trustful eyes, and Louis rubbed his shoulder so gently it nearly made Armand cry, again, he realised something.
He'd been wrong about their motivations. With all the care they had given him these past days and with how they were now, cuddling and making this seem so easy—no, they didn't just want his body. He was sure of it now. He didn't know how deep their feelings for him ran, but he could acknowledge them now.
And with that thought, he closed his eyes, listening to the music and enjoying their touches for a few moments longer.