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It's been close to a hundred years since Louis last lived with Lestat, and a lot of things have changed since then—only some of which Lestat has kept up with. Louis is spared having to introduce Lestat to the internet, since he's already enough of an iPad baby to rival Armand, but he does have to introduce Lestat to things like smart appliances (and he absolutely agrees when Lestat has a minor meltdown about their fridge displaying ads in the comfort of their own home), and artificial intelligence (ChatGPT is banned from their home after Lestat asks it who the best character from the best-selling book "Interview With The Vampire" is, and it promptly replies with "Armand").
It's hard to anticipate when something might be new to Lestat, and when he might need a little more easing into his introduction to it. Take vacuum cleaners, for example. They'd already been invented by the time Louis and Lestat met the very first time, but it wasn't until 2022 that Lestat came face-to-face with one. And the results were shocking—for everyone.
Lestat had been standing at their bathroom sink, ranting and raving about the inherent lack of soul in AI-generated music and how it was an affront to the art of music, when he accidentally struck one of his larger containers of body glitter, knocking it to the floor and sending glitter everywhere.
Presently, Lestat blinks over at Louis—who was fortunate enough to be standing on the other side of the room—from within the great mess of glitter.
"Would you be so kind as to retrieve something for me to sweep this up? If it gets into the carpet, we'll never be rid of it."
Louis snorts. It's already much too late for that; no matter how well Lestat scrubs the glitter from his skin when he returns after a show, some amount always lingers, and it was through the entire house within a matter of days of Lestat purchasing the large container. Still, this magnitude of glitter is something Louis would like to avoid spreading. "Yeah, I'll be right back. Please, for all that is good and holy, don't go anywhere."
Louis grabs the vacuum cleaner from the cupboard down the hallway and brings it back to their bedroom. When he wheels it into their bathroom, Lestat gives him a truly perplexed look.
"What on earth is that? Do we not have a broom?"
"This? It's a vacuum. Have you not used one before?"
Lestat tilts his head, eyes wide with that look of awe he gets whenever Louis has something new to show him. "No. What does it do?"
"Here, I'll show you. Heads up, it's going to be a little bit loud."
"Oh, I'm sure it can't be that bad," Lestat scoffs.
Louis plugs the vacuum cleaner in, and then he flips the switch. It roars to life, and several things happen in very quick succession.
Lestat's eyes widen even further, his fangs drop, and he emits the kind of screech that the neighbourhood cats do whenever they're fighting to the death outside Louis and Lestat's bedroom window at 2am. He also leaps a good couple of feet into the air and is out of the room so quickly that Louis doesn't see him move. One moment there is a Lestat, and the next there is not. There is only Louis, a vacuum cleaner, and a lot of body glitter.
Louis blinks, still processing what just happened. He looks down to discover a trail of glitter that Lestat has left in haste to flee.
A trail that goes right into their bedroom. Onto the carpet.
Louis just sighs. Wherever Lestat is, he's probably not going anywhere any time soon, and he's going to be easy to find with this damn trail, so Louis may as well take a few minutes to clean up.
He vacuums up the mess in the bathroom and then follows the trail through their bedroom, down the hallway, and right up to the door that leads to the basement. Not wanting to give Lestat another heart attack, Louis puts the vacuum back in the cupboard before descending into the basement.
He follows the trail to the hidden entrance to their coffin room, and notices a set of frantic-looking claw marks on the wall surrounding the handle which opens it. The trail leads Louis straight to his own coffin, which is a slightly unwelcome surprise—why'd it have to be his coffin that got filled with glitter?
Louis' frustration melts away once he notices even more claw marks on the lid of the coffin, and the frantic beating of the heart inside. He knocks gently on the lid.
"Lestat?"
There's a faint hiss.
"I left the vacuum upstairs, it's just me."
A few seconds of silence, and then, very slowly, the lid opens just a crack.
"No terrible monstrosity?"
"Not unless you count your husband."
"Hmm." Lestat opens the lid all the way and pouts from where he's wrapped in Louis' bedding. If it didn't look so terrified, it would be adorable.
"Oh, baby. You're shaking."
Lestat gives him an affronted look. "I am not." He folds his arms, hiding his trembling hands.
"Can I come in?"
"I opened the coffin, didn't I?"
Louis gives Lestat a look. "That doesn't answer my question. I'm not a mind reader, Les."
Lestat's answering look is nothing short of petulant. "Yes, you are. You are a vampire, Louis. That is what we do. We read minds."
Louis sighs. "Stop being a bitch."
Lestat looks like he would like to continue doing so, but he deflates, shuffling over to give Louis some room. "Yes, you may come in."
Louis clambers into the coffin and pulls the lid down with him. He settles on his back, pulling Lestat down onto his chest.
"So..." Louis starts. He cards his fingers through Lestat's hair, as is a habit in this position. "That was... a reaction."
Lestat huffs. "What, was I supposed to enjoy that sound?"
"No, I just wasn't expecting—"
"Me to flee in terror from the world's loudest object? Are they supposed to be that loud, Louis? I fear someone sold you a bad—what was it called?"
"A vacuum cleaner."
"A ridiculous name."
"Well, I mean, it kinda makes sense. A vacuum is when—"
"I know what a vacuum is, Louis. I'm not an idiot."
"I know you're not. I'm just trying not to assume you always know what I'm talking about."
Lestat sighs. Louis can feel him tracing circles into his chest. "You know what this all reminds me of?"
"What?"
"It reminds me of the times you and I would go shopping together, not long after we first met. Updating my wardrobe to the styles of the time. You helped me acclimatise to the 20th century, and now you are doing so again, this time to the 21st."
Louis' heart warms at the thought of it, and he does his best to ignore the sting that comes when he thinks about why.
Lestat continues, a soft affection in his voice. "I look forward to facing the 22nd century with you, chéri, and all the wonderful fashions and technologies that it brings." Then, he pauses before making a low noise of disgust. "Except technology like that. We should get rid of it, Louis. I don't want it in the house."
"They're handy, Les. Much better at cleaning up glitter than any kind of broom. We'll just get a quieter one. Maybe we'll get one of those automatic robot ones. They're a lot smaller, I don't think they're as loud."
"A robot vacuum?"
"Not like how you're probably thinking. It's not like the one we have. They're these little discs that propel themselves along the floor. They're really clever. They can learn the layout of the house and just go room by room. I don't know if they're smart enough to go looking for dirt on their own—maybe the real fancy ones have cameras or sensors? We could look into it."
Lestat makes a little noise of interest. "Especially if it means we can get rid of that terrible contraption from earlier."
Louis snorts. "Every day I become more and more sure that vampires are descended from cats. Or you are, at least. Cats hate vacuums, too."
Lestat nods against Louis' chest. "That's because they are smart creatures, Louis."
"What, it's smart to lick your own ass and cough up furballs on the carpet? Gross."
"Surely they aren't that repulsive, considering they're a favourite meal of yours. Or are they more like a little treat? A break from the rats?"
Louis tries to ignore the bait, since Lestat is well aware of the fact that it has been a very long time since he sustained himself with non-human blood. Still, no one is perfect.
"If the ass-licking and furballs are genetic traits, when do I have to start worrying about you doing that? Should I be worried about that nice rug in the study?"
"You had no smart remarks for me when I was licking your ass earlier."
"Touché."
Lestat snickers and drags his cheek against Louis' chest, purring even as he tries to smother the sound of it.
"Now, thanks to your rapid departure, there is most definitely glitter all through this coffin, and all over us. What do you say we get in the shower, and deal with this mess later? I'll even wait till you're out of the house to do the rest of the vacuuming."
Lestat tips his head up to give Louis a fond smile. "And they say there's no such thing as a perfect man."
~...~
A few days later, they make a date out of breaking into a nearby appliance store and setting loose every robot vacuum they have on offer.
Louis has every intention of simply figuring out which is the quietest and then going home to buy several online, but Lestat immediately becomes attached to one of the display models.
"He is so well-behaved, Louis! Look at him! Oh, and he'll match the kitchen tiles so beautifully, too. I think we should keep him, don't you?"
"It isn't a dog, Les. Leave it, we'll get it online."
But, after several minutes of Lestat pleading and staring at Louis with the biggest, saddest, wettest eyes on the planet, they end up stealing him. Within a month, they have six robot vacuums. Each is given a name, and they supposedly have very different personalities.
"Oh, Louis, you must excuse me, Jean is stuck on the stairs again. He is always doing this! I have told him to leave them alone, but he insists!"
"You will never believe where I found Amélie this evening, mon cher—out in the yard! She was attempting to vacuum the lawn! I should sprinkle some dirt on her favourite rug, she is clearly bored."
"I have purchased new covers for Maël, he will be able to mop the floors now. Isn't that clever of him? Louis, we should spill some blood for him, give him something to clean up."
So, though it sometimes feels like Louis can't walk around without tripping over somebody—and god help him if he trips over a vacuum and doesn't audibly apologise to it—at least their floors have never been cleaner.