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This was a terrible idea, Louis thought as he rode the elevator up to the luxury hotel.
It had been a few months since Lestat debuted his music and he was now playing concerts here and there before heading out on his tour. Many places including the 77 Basement, Louis' new establishment. Today's performance was good, very good. And Louis only allowed it because he didn't know how to say no. How could he? How strange would it be to refuse that proposal? When the vampire on stage sang so beautifully what seemed to be just for him? It had been months since he had seen his maker, enough for Louis to realize that perhaps a reapprochement was inevitable.
After the concert, Lestat invited him to a 'private party' in his hotel room. This, indeed, seemed like a bad idea. But again, how could Louis refuse? After so long, it would be so good to have Lestat back in his life, even if it was just a few feet away, in a room surrounded by potential victims. Maybe Louis wasn't thinking straight.
Arriving on the top floor, the vampire sighed, adjusting his navy blue shirt and wondering about the lack of music, but he went anyway, to the door of the room where the rock star was staying. Another sigh, and he knocked.
Footsteps were heard, more specifically the high-heeled boots the vampire wore during his performance. And then... The door opened. And all the worries in the world seemed to slide off the dark-haired man's shoulders. The rock star smiled at him. Golden, defined hair falling over a long jacket that laced across the back, accompanied by tight red velvet pants. But what Louis couldn't take his attention away from were the leather gloves, and a bottle of wine in one of them.
"Hello Lestat" He said without knowing how long it took him to say it.
The blond vampire smiled. "Louis, please come in." He gestured for the vampire to enter, which Louis did, frowning when he found the room was empty.
Suspicious, the dark-haired man took a few steps across the beige carpet, observing the room that was not as luxurious as he had imagined. Simple, as much as the other rooms, but sophisticated, clean...even though disorganized. With makeup scattered all over the vanity, as well as ruined clothes thrown everywhere. "Lestat? Didn't you say it would be a party?" He tilted his head to the side, already with that expression of habitual anger.
But of course, Lestat continued to smile mischievously. "It is, Louis!" He began to twist the cork of the bottle. "Extremely exclusive, for my host tonight." The cork broke with the force with a small pop and the vampire began pouring two glasses while humming, ignoring the other angry and confused vampire.
Louis stared at the scene with his arms crossed, unsure. They had never been in the same room alone since the storm in New Orleans. This was dangerous, for both of them.
"Oh, don't be like that," Lestat made a tearful face, approaching and handing the cup full of red liquid to the younger man. "I can do a performance if you want, for you, have a party if you really want to" He wasn't serious, Louis thought, but he honestly didn't know what was going on in the other's head.
"Lestat, what are you doing?" Seriously he questioned, frowning. And oh how he regretted it, for he had to watch the sweet and cheerful face of his former love wither immediately.
Lestat still held his glass between his leather fingers, his lip trembled a little, the shine in his eyes too. He licked his lips, motionless for a moment, and Louis had the feeling he was going to burst into hysterical laughter at any moment. But he didn’t. “I appreciate your company, Louis. I thought we could have a nightcap, just like old times"
"Yeah, but I know what your nightcaps are like," Louis retorted. This was dangerous territory. Most of the time this was a code name, a disguise to lure fans into the dressing room and drain them in the heat. It was his method, sick, tasty.
The rock star drank some of the wine and made a sour face. It didn't suit him, with the crimson glitter on his eyelid, with the feline smile, with the attitude. Always that attitude. "No Louis. Not you, never with you." He looked seriously melting, or was it...touched?
Louis turned his back, walking across the room and sitting on the edge of the huge bed, yes, at least the drink came in handy. He took a long sip. And why did he come? Why did he get ready? Why did he give up his space? What did he think would happen? He was caught up in thought, and feeling guilty, very guilty. Barely noticing the weight beside him as Lestat sat down on the bed.
"Are you mad at me?" The brat prince asked
"I'm always mad at you," Louis retorted.
Silence. "Would it help if I sang to you?" Lestat rested his hand on Louis's knee.
"Sing to me? You're a fucking canary? How would that help me?" Louis turned to him. Yes, furious. But oh, they were so close. And the damn leather glove made him feel things. But in response the blond just shrugged, didn't fight back, didn't yell back, and Louis just wanted to wring that neck once and for all. For everything, for the lost time, for the feeling, for the pain, for the success, exposure, for everything. Yes he was angry, but he was also dying of love for this idiot.
More silence. But Lestat was always good at breaking things that were already broken. "I miss you, Louis." Blue eyes looked down, so much melancholy for such a striking figure seemed like a sin. "There is no other reason I stopped by, chose your establishment, invited you. I miss you" A confession.
And of course the dark-haired man didn't know what to do with this information. He left his drink on the table next to the bed and turned to the other. "Don't come to me with that now, we can't do that again. You don't need me and I certainly don't need you" Louis was spot on, he needed to be, to be sane, to be firm. He couldn't let them fall into that destructive cycle all over again, get hurt again. It hurt to say it, but it was for their own good.
"I love you, Louis" Lestat stared at him desperately. "And I hope you're happy, I want you to be. I'd hate to be the cause of your discomfort...again." he murmured, couldn't seem to resist the temptation and leaned to the side, pressing a kiss to his fledgling's temple before standing up.
Damn, that broke Louis's heart. An anguish he thought he would never feel again. "Have you read my book?" he whispered, so faintly that he didn't even know if the other had heard. His emerald eyes were still staring at the carpet.
There was another silence, Lestat turned to him, one could tell he was holding back. "I did"
"Then you know why we can't get back together."
Lestat was agitated, Louis noticed as he looked back at him, considerably anxious. But then a wicked smile spread across his thin lips. "I didn't say anything about us getting back together. I just invited you for a drink and that might involve some naughty touching. No hard feelings"
Louis frowned. "You? No hard feeling? Since when? You told me you love me one minute ago"
"Well, I lied. Now let's get to the point, Mr. 'Sentimental'". Lestat recovered by taking a decisive step and deliberately throwing himself onto the black man's lap. Without hesitation, without thinking.
"To hell you lied. You love me!" Louis protested, but in the next second his lap was full of Lestat, and his arms too, and his mind too, and then...his mouth.
The first kiss in...how long? A century? Almost that long, it seemed, and yet Louis's muscle memory kicked in beautifully. He wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him closer when he felt thighs close around the hips. It was fast, intense, cold leather gloves grabbed his face and Louis thought he was going to have a stroke right then and there. Lestat didn't kiss, he devoured. Was that the only way he knew how to kiss? They broke seconds later, just because they had to, and gasped for the air they never needed.
" 'Mr. Sentimental, really?" Louis retorted, watching the blue eyes widen intensely. Fingers held his chin up, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make fun of that figure. He then stood up, turning them over in bed and pressing Lestat's back against the soft comforter. The quick movement made the blond moan, and Louis went on top of him, eyes equally mesmerized. "You're so full of yourself, Mounsier Le Rockstar" One could see the moment when Lestat melted for that, for the phrase, for Louis.
"Please"
"I didn't know rockstars begged. But that's just a drink and touches, as you said? Isn't it?" Louis smiled, he could feel Lestat stiff against him, but ignored it. He ignored everything. He was in love with the view. Lestat lying there, his hair curled, golden, the glitter like blood in his eyes. And the leather, all that leather. And he wanted to teach Lestat a lesson! To stop being a scoundrel, and selfish, and opportunist!
"Stay here, mon cher" he asked sweetly, stepping away only to pick up the bottle of wine beside him. Lestat sighed, delighted, giving in as he never had before. Maybe it was the affectionate nickname that Louis accidentally let slip.
When Louis returned with the bottle and climbed onto his lap, Lestat sighed. "Louis, Louis, Louis..." His hands were on his fledgling's hips, firm. His expression, thirsty, curious.
"You like bringing young people over, huh? Get drunk and drained? Let's see how good it feels," Louis narrated playfully, if a little bossily. So he opened the bottle that was still almost full and began to pour the wine over Lestat's face. Slowly, until the blond took the drink between his lips. Drops, then more and more. Staring sensually at the brunette while doing it. Hips moving against Louis' static ones.
"Very well," Louis smiled, then turned the rest of the thing over. The bottle began to make several blops as all the liquid came down the neck that Louis forced into Lestat's mouth.Without stopping. The vampire spat out the wine, liquid leaking from his lips. But Louis cruelly forced him to a still position. And Lestat was drinking everything, as much as he could without letting it leak out of his nose, as the current of alcohol did not accompany his swallowing movements. He choked in the middle of the bottle, but Louis laughed. He laughed like he hadn't laughed in a long time. Even with the hands squeezing him so tightly, with the trembling, with the blue eyes that didn't leave his even when wine-colored tears appeared.
Tears of anger, of suffocation, and of love, the sick kind of course. "Almost there..." Louis murmured, and finally Lestat emptied the bottle in a few seconds.
When Louis took the glass from his lips Lestat sat up. He pushed himself forward and coughed up the liquid from his burning lungs. Louis fell off his lap at the sudden movement, observing as a scientific experiment. Lestat felt dizzy, the absurd amount of alcohol being consumed too quickly. He coughed, mumbled something as his cheeks flushed, his eyes clouding over.
"What did you say?" Louis frowned.
Lestat took a breath, or at least tried to. He crawled as best he could toward Louis, dizzy, throwing his arms around Louis' neck.
"No touching, I haven't even finished my drink yet," Louis retorted. But then Lestat buried his face in his neck, it was very warm, limp, mellow. The fledgling took him in his arms. Fuck, he loved that idiot, that needy and loving idiot. For Lestat's impulse, his instinct, was always this: to go to Louis, to return to him again and again. And of course he wouldn't let the book's bitter words change that. The love, the stubbornness, everything stayed, it was all he had to give.
Louis stroked the golden mane carefully, feeling a little guilty, but then again, Lestat was more than fine, merely playing soft and human for Louis's benefit. "Are you okay?" Louis was embarrassed to ask.
"Your aftercare is kind...Now it's your turn," Lestat muttered, pulling away in a failed attempt to take off his own clothes.
Louis watched in curiosity and a small laugh "Let me help you" Their legs touched as he reached behind Lestat's choir garment, undoing the knot made with the leather strip at the back and calmly removing the leather garment. Of course, Lestat wore nothing underneath it, exposing his somewhat heaving chest for the simple task. And indeed, he was panting, his skin a little stained from the leaked wine, as was the mattress, oh and his golden hair, with soaked strands. Amidst the chaotic scene, the brat didn't seem to mind, smiling flirtatiously, albeit softly.
"Well, now where were we..." He dove into Louis' neck once more, pressing small kisses before sucking on the skin. In response, the vampire just laughed, as if tickled, feeling pampered. It didn't last long, however, until he felt the kisses getting weaker and wetter. Holding the maker by the back of his neck, he pushed him away a little.
"You're drooling, Lestat."
"Uh I apologize my love" Eyes heavy with sleep stared at Louis, terribly meek, coming in for another kiss on the lips. But Louis barely paid attention, did Lestat have to say 'love' so sincerely? His love. His.
"Want to really make it up to me? How about playing at 77 Basement tomorrow, for free?" Louis pouted.
"But mon cher, I need to pay my band, and I don't sing for free!" Lestat retorted
"I'll pay you thirty percent." Louis stroked his flushed cheeks.
"Eighty percent! And I won't tell anyone that you got me drunk to abuse your power" the blond breathed
"Thirty-five. And I won't tell anyone you slept with the owner of the place to be able to play there." The final proposal
"But did we? Oh! Okay, I get it. Deal done," Lestat corrected, grinning madly. A stolen kiss on the lips, and another, and another. Until Lestat just gave in and lay against Louis, his head spinning.
"Louis, Louis," he closed his eyes. "I'll let you sleep here with me. Just don't fall in love, no hard feelings, remember?" He turned, hugging Louis, breathing in his scent, forcing him to lie down.
"A little too late for that" Louis whispered to himself, laying back against the large, soft pillow. The weight of the other against him. And damn, he came for this, he wanted to get along with Lestat. He came because the whole night admiring him on stage wasn't enough, it would never be enough. And now, he could smell his shampoo, the glitter from his eyelids sticking to Louis' skin, probably never to come off. Lestat would never get out of him.
They are back, they never really separated. The separation was deadly for both of them and now the reunion was being too. Back to a dark place that Louis was so afraid of returning to again...tears streamed down his face, and Lestat stroked his torso, his back, the consciousness of the unconscious calming him. Until they both built this nest around each other. Louis wasn't sleepy, and over time he realized that Lestat wasn't either. Of course the son of a bitch was faking vulnerability. It was noticeable by the way he made perfect little infinity-shaped circles on his fledgling's back.
But just this once, the two of them put aside their pride, and Louis finally cuddled against Lestat for hours.