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“I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” Louis said, as he stood to his feet, wobbling a little as he balanced on the two thin blades of his rental skates.
“I can’t believe that in almost one hundred and fifty years on this earth you have never been ice skating,” Lestat replied as they marched together towards the gap in the barrier.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a Louisiana pastime.”
Lestat chuckled as he stepped onto the ice, holding out one of his hands for Louis to take. “You’ve had plenty of time since then.”
Louis gave him a look and reached out, taking Lestat’s hand as he took a shaky step onto the ice. But the dull blade of the rental skates failed to make any kind of real connection with the ice and, almost immediately, Louis lost his balance. He tripped over his toe pick and his body flew forwards, crashing face first into Lestat’s chest. Lestat caught him easily and wrapped him up in his arms.
“It’s all right, mon cher,” he said, helping him upright. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Lestat carefully eased him back onto his feet, Louis’ gloved hands still clinging to his lover’s strong, sturdy body. Louis scissored his feet back and forth, trying to get used to the feeling of having knives strapped to his shoes … which he was then expected to balance on … while also standing on the slipperiest surface possible.
Who even came up with this?!
He was definitely regretting letting Lestat talk him into going ice skating, but when their car had driven past the enormous Rockefeller Center Christmas tree and the glistening ice rink situated below it, Lestat’s eyes had become even brighter than the tree.
“Oh, Louis, we must go!” he had exclaimed, grabbing Louis’ hand across the backseat of the car, eyes transfixed by the lights on the tree.
“You wanna go ice skating?”
“Oui, mon cher! It’s Christmas and we are in New York City. Of course I want to go ice skating!”
“Can you even skate?”
“Of course.” Lestat had replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Really?” Louis had asked, one incredulous eyebrow raised.
“Oh, oui,” Lestat said, “I used to skate all the time as a child. There was a pond on my father’s land which would freeze over on particularly cold winter days. My brothers and I would skate on it until we were windburned and chilled to the bone, or until out mother called for us to return home.”
Lestat had gone on to explain how his brothers used to chase him and push him over on the ice, but he enjoyed skating so much that, instead of being deterred by his brothers’ antics, he spent one particularly cold winter out there alone practicing, so he could outrun them.
“And skating was quite a fashionable pastime for aristocratic men in the nineteenth century, so I dabbled a bit during that time as well and learned a few things,” he explained. “It’s a wonder what becoming a vampire will do to eliminate one’s concern with self-preservation.”
Louis wasn’t sure he agreed. He was still pretty concerned about falling and cracking a rib. Sure, it would heal quick, but still. He’d rather not. He also wasn’t sure whether Lestat had wanted to go skating to actually skate, or whether it was just an excuse to hold Louis the whole time. Although Louis certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.
Lestat took Louis by the shoulders, setting him in place, steady on his feet. Then he stood in front of him, reaching both hands out now so that Louis could hold on.
“You have to keep your knees bent, Louis,” he said. “Turn your feet out a little and start by taking only small steps. That’s right, like you are marching.”
Louis glanced down at his feet as he took almost imperceptible marching steps.
“Uh uh, Louis,” Lestat gently scolded, “try not to look down, keep your eyes on me.”
Louis looked up and this time, instead of falling on his face, he fell into Lestat’s blue eyes. They were brimming over with elated joy at sharing this so-very-human activity with his lover. And he looked positively handsome too, bundled up in his overcoat and scarf, cheeks all pink and windswept, smile so full of light and love … if Louis had had any sort of control over his movements he would have towed him off the ice and lead him back to their hotel so he could lay him down on a soft, cozy bed and warm him up with kisses.
“You’re doing so well, mon cher,” Lestat said, effortlessly gliding backwards in front of Louis, holding both of his hands as they slowly made their way around the perimeter of the rink. “Just one step at a time, one foot in front of the other, keep marching, I’ve got you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were so good at this?” Louis asked, teetering along, clinging to Lestat’s hands as he struggled to stay upright on his blades without his ankles turning in, which Lestat had told him he had to avoid.
“I don’t like to point out my virtues,” Lestat said with a cheeky smile.
“Bullshit.” Louis chuckled as he gently tugged on Lestat’s hands, managing to pull himself close enough to kiss the smile off his face.
“You told me that before you became a vampire you couldn’t read or write, and then when you got turned, suddenly you could,” Louis said. “Why did the dark gift make you literate, but it didn’t make me good at ice skating?”
“The dark gift manifests itself in many different ways, mon cher,” Lestat replied, voice dripping with faux profundity. “Who are we to question its mystery?”
The two continued slowly making their way around the rink, Lestat gliding effortlessly backwards, Louis hobbling along under his tutelage. But maybe there was something to be said about the dark gift accelerating the speed at which one became good at things, because after just a few laps of the rink, Louis was balanced enough to skate, without death-gripping Lestat. At the beginning he was certain he was going to crush all the bones in his hands, but now he was only holding on because he liked the feeling.
“Hang on, cher,” he said. “Lemme try something.”
He reluctantly withdrew his hands. Lestat kept his own hands held out before him, just in case Louis lost his footing again, but taking in all the expert advice Lestat had given him in their little crash course, Louis began taking some small pushes on his own.
Lestat’s face lit up. “That’s it, mon cher! You’ll be at the ISU grand prix in no time!”
Louis snorted a laugh. “Yeah, maybe after a century of practice.”
Lestat rolled his eyes. “By then they may have finally updated their rules and will allow us to skate as a pair.”
Lestat did a few little backward swizzles, moving himself slightly further away from Louis, holding his arms out in front of him like a proud father helping his child to take their first steps unassisted. Louis bent his knees, turned out his feet, and began skating all while keeping his eyes fixed on the proud, loving gaze of his Lestat.
Lestat kept a small distance, enough to give Louis a bit of a challenge while remaining close enough so he could catch him if he fell. Louis built up a little bit of speed, spurred on by the delight on Lestat’s face. Sure enough, he gained enough momentum to catch up with Lestat’s steady pace, and he crashed purposefully into his chest. Lestat wrapped him up in his warm, tight embrace and kissed him under the glow of the Christmas tree.
“Look at you,” he said, still holding him close, “such a diligent student, my Louis. Ever the fast learner.”
“Well, I’ve got a good teacher,” Louis said. “Still, I think it might be a while before I’m skating at the Winter Olympics.”
“Ah, never fear, Louis, we have plenty of time to practice.”
In a preternaturally short time, Louis had developed the ability to skate quite smoothly unassisted, which meant he and Lestat could now both skate forwards, hand in hand, and Lestat didn’t have to be quite so preoccupied with keeping him upright.
“So, what other talents you got that you’re hiding from me,” Louis asked, eyeing his enigmatic lover who, apparently even after all this time could still manage to surprise him. “You gonna do a spin? Or do a triple axel or something?”
Lestat chuckled. “Oh no, Louis, I cannot do a triple axel.”
“Not even with the cloud gift?” Louis asked with a smirk.
“I would never use any of my vampire gifts for skating, Louis,” Lestat said, suddenly all serious. “That would compromise the purity of the sport. It would be the equivalent of a mortal doping.”
Louis laughed. “Yeah, just a bit.”
“I can do a single axel though; however, my technique may be a little … antiquated.”
Louis’ eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”
Lestat shrugged like it was no big deal. “Are you surprised, mon cher? I am good at so many things.”
“Yeah, good at talking shit,” Louis replied with a cheeky, affectionate grin.
A devilish smile spread across Lestat’s face. “Oh, is that what you think?”
“Do I think you can do an axel?” Louis said. “No, I don’t.”
“Well, let me prove you wrong, Louis,” Lestat said, parking Louis at the barrier and dropping his hand.
Louis watched as Lestat took off, quicker than he’d done all night. He easily turned backwards and skated a big arc, long lithe arms stretching out elegantly beside him, legs moving gracefully as he stroked across the ice. Lestat set up his jump, the movements apparently coming back to him without an issue. He stepped forward on his left leg, pulled his arms back behind him, and launched himself into the air, rotating one and a half times in the air and landing smoothly, gliding backwards on his right leg.
Louis had to admit. It was pretty hot.
Louis clapped; his applause muted by his gloves. “Okay, that was pretty impressive, cher.”
Lestat came to a graceful stop and did a dramatic little bow. “See? I told you. I’m a man of many talents.”
Louis rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the lapels of his overcoat, pulling him into a kiss. Lestat stumbled forward slightly at the abrupt movement before finding his feet and cradling Louis’ head between his hands as he returned the kiss.
When Louis finally released him, his expression had changed. He’d gotten all serious again. Even more serious than he’d been when he was doing his anti-doping spiel.
“Louis,” he said on a sigh, still holding his face tenderly between his hands. “There is one more thing I wanted to do on this trip, mon cher. And I have been trying to decide how and when and where. No place or time ever feels good enough.”
Louis’ brow crinkled in confusion.
“And I do not wish to wait any longer, Louis,” Lestat said. “I am tired of waiting for the right moment when we have a whole eternity of moments ahead of us. I could wait forever trying to find the perfect one, but I cannot wait any longer for you to be mine.”
Louis smiled. “But I already am yours, Les … what are you …” the thought froze in his mind and the words died on his lips as Lestat let go of his face and reached into his overcoat pocket, producing a small, dark red velvet box.
Lestat dropped to one knee and Louis’ breath caught in his throat. His heart beat in time with Lestat’s—as it always did—and both hearts began to increase in rhythm.
“We once sat on an altar, many years ago, making vows to one another,” Lestat said. “But we have both changed in many ways since then. The only thing that has remained the same—and that will always remain the same—is my love for you, Louis. I love all the beautiful things that you are. I love you more than I have ever loved in all my centuries. Even when the worst came between us, my heart never stopped calling out for you. Even in my darkest, loneliest nights it was your beautiful face I pictured, and it took away my pain, even if only for a second. Every moment since you returned to me has been filled with joy. Even the moments when things are difficult, they are still joyous, because you are here for me to be difficult with. I want nothing more in this new, progressive century, than to stand on an altar like a pair of lovesick mortals and make a different set of vows. Vows which we could not have made back then. I know it is unnecessary, especially to us with our eternal bond, but if you would have me, I would love nothing more, mon cher than to be your husband.”
Louis’ head swam with the pretty words and his heart seized with the overwhelming love he had for his lover, his maker, his murderer. His husband? Well, he liked the sound of that.
Louis dropped to his knees, ignoring the fact that a whole bunch of tourists had congregated around them and were taking photos which would surely end up on Instagram later. He threaded his fingers into Lestat’s hair and pulled him into another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent, hoping he could fully express with his kiss all the things he felt for Lestat which he couldn’t fully express with words.
He pressed his forehead against Lestat’s and reluctantly broke the kiss.
“Is that a yes, mon amour?” Lestat asked, his voice wavering slightly.
Louis laughed. “Yes, of course it is.”
Lestat’s face glowed as he opened the little box. Inside was a gold band, inlaid with an emerald the color of Louis’ eyes and a sapphire the color of Lestat’s. Louis pulled off his left glove and offered Lestat his hand. Lestat slid the ring on Louis’ finger as the tourists cheered them on in the background. Louis captured his face once more, kissing him again.
“I love you, Lestat.” He murmured against his lips. “I will always love you. Even when you’re showing off, jumpin’ around like Scott Hamilton.”
Lestat laughed his sweet, melodic laugh. “Even then?”
“Even then.”
“Louis, we have been sitting on this ice for a little while now.” Lestat frowned. “It’s beginning to soak through my trousers.”
“Same here.”
“Only one way to resolve this problem,” Lestat said, all coy.
“Go back to the hotel and take them off?”
“See? We don’t need to be able to read each other’s minds, not when we know each other’s hearts.”
Louis smiled. Nearly one hundred and fifty Christmases and this one would go down in history as his favorite. He kissed his future husband one more time.
“Merry Christmas, my Lestat.”
“Merry Christmas, my Louis.”