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The stage lights dim, changing from neon purple to a warm, Edison bulb yellow. The music fades. The bass player, guitarist, and drummer relax. It’s just The Vampire Lestat and his hot pink grand piano now. Lestat wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead before shaking out his mane of golden curls and leaning into the mounted microphone.
“This next song is dedicated to…” he says, his voice laden with the usual melodrama, heightened by the fact that he’s got an audience. He smiles, but it’s a little melancholy. “Ah, mes amis. Friends, lovers, you know who it is dedicated to.”
A cheer goes up.
Louis. Of course, it’s Louis. Every single fucking one of his songs is dedicated to Louis. Well, except for the ones that are just straight up vampire lore drops.
Lestat launches into his song. It’s a pretty good one, Daniel thinks. Daniel had been there when he’d written it in a burst of romantic inspiration between interview sessions. Louis had just flown in from Dubai to see him, and Lestat was all in his feelings, as the kids say (although when is he not?). He’d written it about their near-century-long separation and their reunion, and the everlasting bond of their love, and… blah, blah blah… the lyrics are from the heart, but they’re a little trite.
Anyway, Louis, who seems to be back in his “fuck off and find me” era, had left only a few days later and now you can always tell the status of Lestat and Louis’ on-again-off-again situationship based on the way Lestat performs this particular song.
Tonight, he’s performing it with bright red tears streaming down his face, dragging his mascara along with them. The audience thinks it’s all makeup of course. A gimmicky little special effect to lean into the whole vampire act. Blood tears. So edgy. Daniel’s pretty sure that means they’re currently off-again.
Daniel does kind of feel bad for the guy, but he also knows what Lestat’s like. He’s probably brought it upon himself. Still, Daniel decides to check in with the object of Lestat’s current warbling.
You really should get out here, Louis. Daniel sends down the telepathic vampire hotline. Your boyfriend’s not exactly in fine form.
Maybe you should ask my boyfriend about what I caught him and his drummer doing the last time I was in town.
Well, then come down here anyway, for me. It’s been too long.
A beat of silence down the line.
Is he there? Louis eventually replies.
Daniel can’t help but smile like an idiot. You’re damn right he is.
Then that’s a hard pass, Daniel.
You’re gonna have to be in the same room as each other one of these days.
I still can’t believe you—
Daniel cuts him off. Yeah, yeah, the heart wants what it wants, Louis. I’ll talk to you later.
Whatever, Daniel’s an asshole and he’s doesn’t really feel like wasting too much energy on those two whiny existential queens when he’s currently got his arms wrapped around the most beautiful, most evil vampire he’s ever laid eyes on.
Rockstar company included.
He’s got Armand in front of him, his back pressed against Daniel’s chest, Daniel’s arms around his waist, holding him tight. Armand has his arms wrapped around on top of Daniel’s. His touch is gentle, easy, pretty domestic rather than possessive for once. Daniel has his chin hooked over Armand’s shoulder as they both watch the concert. His soft, inky curls tickle against Daniel’s cheek, but Daniel doesn’t mind one bit. They sway together to the music and every so often Daniel turns his head a little so he can breathe in his scent and plant a kiss on his temple. Armand is a little taller than him usually, but he’s started dressing Daniel in these chunky heeled boots which he says remind him of the ones Daniel was wearing the day they met. But Daniel has an inkling he just sort of likes feeling small and held sometimes. Armand turns his head to look up fondly at Daniel with those huge, gorgeous eyes.
“This song reminds me of us, beloved,” he says, almost looking like he’s fighting blood tears of his own. “Apart for so long… together at last…”
“Well, hopefully we can do a little better than them,” Daniel replies, nodding toward the stage.
“Hmm, we will,” Armand says with a happy little hum. “I’m never letting you get away again.”
There’s the possessive streak Daniel loves.
Daniel leans in and kisses him with a little more tongue than is probably appropriate.
Someone nearby thinks he’s an old pervert. Someone else thinks Armand is a gold digger. Classic. At least Daniel knows who they’re having for dinner tonight.
Ugh, the pair of you make me nauseous.
Lestat’s obnoxious voice entering his mind takes Daniel aback, but not enough to affect his mood. Or to stop him kissing Armand.
Yeah, well, better get the stage manager to bring you a bucket, buddy, because we’re not stopping. I only just got him back in my arms, I’m not letting him go any time soon.
Lestat huffs a bitchy little huff. Hmm, and you say my lyrics are trite.
Asshole.
When Lestat speaks to his mind again, his tone is suddenly as serious as a heart attack.
Do not take for granted the love you have while you have it, fledgling. The bitchiness isn’t far away though. Even if it is the love of a damnable little devil.
Daniel breaks the kiss, but only so he can look at that beautiful, devilish face again. His warm honey gaze, his barely concealed, fond-as-all-hell little smile.
God, Daniel’s so in love with him. And no, he won’t ever take it for granted. Not again.
Daniel brushes his nose against Armand’s and kisses him once more, but not before answering Lestat.
Yeah, well, he’s my damnable little devil.