Chapter Text
It is weird to be on set. Everything about it is invasive and far too open for his liking. While Louis shot himself in the foot when he’d allowed the book to be published opening the floodgates of vampire kind, he never in his wildest dreams imagined there would be additional steps.
He certainly didn’t think Lestat was being serious about going on a fucking tour. His hysterical manner and knotted golden hair seemed more ready for a long vacation in a beach-side rehab rather than engaging the press, creating a Twitter account, and hiring a manager.
Lestat never did things halfway, it would seem, and this obnoxiously typical cry for help is now inescapable.
They’d agreed to stay friends, to allow themselves space to grow and heal in this new century, but that didn’t mean Louis didn’t keep a close eye on Lestat. It helps that Daniel is now bound and determined to get a sequel out of Lestat.
Louis still partly thought Daniel’s own motivations were wonky. The fledgling knew three vampires, and with Armand MIA and Louis putting a ten-foot pole between himself and the rest, Lestat is it.
When he saw the trailer for the upcoming documentary, Daniel’s voice was clear as can be. They must have shot it on this same set, and he recognizes the backdrop from the waiting room just upstairs.
Louis knows the whole world has seen the trailer… which also means Armand has seen it. Even if he is sulking in a sewer somewhere, the technology-dependent vampire would still see it. Still realized Daniel is working with Lestat, hanging out with Lestat, and, given the performance, likely planning with Lestat to piss off the rest of the vampire race.
Lestat is being an overgrown brat to Louis following the publication of the book, and Daniel is signaling a big fuck you to his maker by doubling down on his recklessness. If Louis didn’t want to rip Armand’s spine out through his throat, he could likely be sitting in dread with the man side by side.
He couldn’t speak for where Armand is, but Louis showed up. He doesn’t tell anyone he’s coming even if he did have half a dozen texts from Lestat since sundown.
[17:00] Les: Bonsoir ma chérie, où es-tu ce soir ?
[17:12] Les: I hope you are enjoying your weekend. I have a taping tonight, but could I call you after?
[17:58] Les: Louis, they are picking out my clothes for the filming, tell me which you like best.
[17:58] Les: [image sent]
[18:30] Les: I must go to film if you should reply, I will answer after. Sois prudent, mon cœur.
Lestat texts like he’s addicted to it, and from what Daniel has told Louis, the man might as well be foaming at the mouth every time he looks at his phone. If it wasn’t texting, it was Facetime. If it wasn’t listening to Spotify, it was doom-scrolling through TikTok and liking anything about himself.
He’s accepted that the space between them would be Louis’ job to enforce. Lestat didn’t mean harm, he knows that now, but he struggles with boundaries. It made him jittery to have Louis close but still have so much space between them. Daniel tries to help, he tries to explain to him how it is healthier.
Staring down into the set, Louis can see that healthy isn’t something either Daniel or Lestat are managing well. He sees two people slumped over in crew chairs, blood dripping from their necks, and the poor man behind the camera is shaking as Daniel stands close by peppering Lestat with questions.
They make an unorthodox pair, but he got the sense they liked one another. Maybe it was enough to be in proximity to the people they really wanted to indulge in.
Louis can’t hear what they’re discussing given the level of soundproofing in the observation area and the stage. Still, he could see by Daniel’s waving arm and Lestat’s scowling that they were hitting rather uncomfortable topics today. He remembers Daniel’s story from last week when they were discussing the turning of Claudia. Lestat cleared the room and broke about 1.5 million dollars worth of equipment. At least he didn’t break Daniel, although from experience he knows it’s a tempting idea on the other side of that man’s interrogations.
Shouting starts, French shouting , and Daniel throws his hands in the air and walks back from behind the camera. Louis can’t help but smirk, finding the performance as amusing as the situation. Lestat with his wild hair, glitter-stroked skin, and leather clothes primping and preening before supplicantly sitting to be interviewed. Daniel, frazzled and probably still a bit blood-wasted, trying to keep a lid on a quickly unraveling Lestat.
Both were gluttons for punishment, and this is why Louis primarily stayed away.
Daniel . Louis calls to him softly, waiting to see the man tense. Don’t turn around. I can see you both from the observation room.
Daniel all but groans as he nervously glances around. Lestat slinks back into the chair and continues on some tirade.
Louis, what a day to show up. He’s completely off his rocker, and I’d much rather be balls deep in a bar somewhere.
Louis tries not to judge, but he shakes with laughter which he allows Daniel to hear.
The fuck are you laughing at? He dodges questions worse than you do! Yesterday it was hysterical crying anytime I said her name, and now he’s trying to bulldoze through my follow-ups!
Did you expect anything different after all we warned you about? This is the nature of Lestat. He’s… passionate.
Daniel snorts a laugh which causes Lestat to pause. The sheer look of insult is enough to tell Louis this is quickly going off the rails.
He’s manic and in need of a 51-50. Daniel informs him.
Louis hums thoughtfully before he glances down at the remaining crew. They must be getting paid a hefty sum to disregard the death and destruction around them. That, or they were also some of the crazed and delusional believers who hoped that they’d be close enough to taste the gift themselves.
Dismiss the mortals for a break, give him a minute to cool off, and don’t tell him I’m here.
Louis makes his way out of the observation room upstairs and uses the crew exits to make his way to the stage. The mortals are talking and scurrying off for their break, and Daniel is trying for the hundredth time that day to remind Lestat that the documentary is his idea. That Daniel knows what he’s doing. That he isn’t judging him.
Like hell, you aren’t judging him . Louis reminds him, and Daniel frowns as he tracks the thoughts projected to him around the building.
Louis has been focusing on his growth for the past few months. While the occasional vampire did show up to kill him, he’d otherwise been living a life of rather peaceful retreat. Never has he read more vivaciously. Never has he spent more time in a meditative space. Growing his power, focusing on what is to come.
He’s discovered his particular knack for blending in. Moving silently. Almost dissolving into shadows and avoiding detection even from the supernatural. He’d not made these insights public to anyone but Daniel, as he needed his help doing research on unknown gifts through the Telemasca. Today, however, it would be helpful.
He walks onto the stage from behind. Eyeing the bright lights and the blood-spattered backdrop as Lestat continues with Daniel.
“You are an insufferable, charogne! How does inflicting these things upon me discuss my musical prowess?!” Lestat shouts, and Daniel rolls his eyes before leaning onto the camera.
“Lestat, I’ve told you a thousand times, you have to establish your motivations with the public. It’s not enough for you to be camp and queer and trying to outdo Ziggy Stardust.”
Lestat groans and shakes his head, those long crunchy set curls hardly moving as they usually did. Louis decides he hates the hair the most. Lestat’s hair should always be free to be combed through. Or maybe that was just a Louis thing .
Daniel senses Louis even if he can’t quite pick up on his exact location. It makes Louis smile, and there’s a faint sense of pride as he walks up deathly slowly behind the prop throne Lestat has taken up.
“My motivation is to be a legend! To be transcendent and une sirène pour les masses!”
“Yes, to the masses, and that’s why all your songs are for one specific person,” Daniel deadpans, and Lestat moves to stand up in a snarl.
Thankfully, Louis is quicker. Both his hands grab Lestat’s and sit him down with a thunk. His grip is tight, and Lestat freezes in surprise at being snuck up on. Louis leans over to his ear, a cocky smirk blooming heat within him. “You’re acting like a brat , Lestat, next time Daniel’s going to threaten to take you over his knee,” Louis threatens sweetly.
Tension melts out of Lestat like a tidal wave. He exhales and tilts his beautiful head back to behold him. “ Louis… ” He whispers in reverence, and the surprise and endearment in his expression make it hard to look away.
Daniel makes a noise close to a gag, and Louis glances over to his friend with a faint challenge. A dark brow perks, opening room for comment, but Daniel doesn’t bother. It’s clear enough that Louis could get away with anything just by flashing those everglade eyes.
“I’ll go take my lunch break,” Daniel replies, and Louis lets out a laugh before glancing down at Lestat. Lestat who couldn’t tear his eyes away from Louis. Lestat who nervously fiddles his fingers on the armrest as if further movement would dispel the vision in front of him.
“Don’t eat anyone of note,” Louis’ smooth voice calls after Daniel who throws up a middle finger in retort.
Once they were at least allowed the illusion of privacy, Louis walks around the throne and looks over Lestat’s whole get-up up close. The unforgiving black leather pants leave little to the imagination. The chain shirt barely concealed every sharp detail of his torso. The spattering of blood and imprecise application of chunky glitter certainly added a lot to the manic look.
By the time he got back to his face, he noticed Lestat’s blown cerulean gaze bearing up at him. Louis imagines, had he the ability, he would have blushed at the heat coming off his maker. “Are you truly here?” Lestat asks, and Louis grins all the more.
“Still seeing my ghost?” Louis asks, reaching over to flip a couple of errant blond curls back toward their correct side. He did this often, perhaps more so out of his own curiosity. Gentle actions that press into Lestat’s space just to see how he would react. If it bothers him, Louis is never told so.
“Non, I just didn’t think you would come. You are scarcely in town…” Lestat murmurs before he blinks a few times. Trying to focus himself back in, and Louis laughs mostly to himself wondering if Lestat had always acted this starstruck. Did he truly miss so much of their earlier years together in his tunnel vision? Had his doom and gloom painted Lestat unfairly?
“You’re hardly in one place all that often either, Monsieur le Rockstar,” Louis teases before pulling back slightly. Lestat looks slightly more composed, but it’s clear he needs a long shower. Probably a bit of WD-40 to get some of that mess off.
“You don’t answer my text messages,” Lestat also points out, and Louis hums unable to deny that one. He stuffs his hands into his pockets before turning to look around. The set looked much different from this angle. The lights were certainly obnoxious. He’s convinced it would give him a headache, vampire or not.
“How am I supposed to keep you coming back for more if I always give in, Lestat?”
Louis didn’t necessarily ignore Lestat to play around with him or his feelings. A lot of it is certain of Louis’ own self-preservation. Getting lost in Lestat, getting lost into any dependent relationship, would be bad news.
Lestat makes a sound that’s close to choking, and Louis feels himself stand a bit straighter. Maybe there is something deranged in this unorthodox arrangement. It certainly wasn’t fair, but when has it ever been?
“You say that as if you don’t already know I would crawl through hellfire to find you,” Lestat murmurs and Louis turns back to him curiously.
“Be careful, Les, one of these days my self-control is going to be too thin, and I might start calling these flowery bluffs in.”
Lestat rises from his throne, taking a few cautious steps as eyes trail over Louis briefly. Unable to entirely deny himself the pleasure. It’s Louis’ face he can’t bother hiding his adoration of. Looking into his eyes as he stands in front of him, his lips twitch. “And yet, here I wait, ever at the ready for you, mon saint Louis.”
Louis lets out a slow breath and swallows back his natural reaction to Lestat’s proximity. It doesn’t matter if it is day one with Lestat or day one hundred thousand. He is a walking magnet that pulls the innermost pieces of Louis’ soul to the surface.
He can smell the tobacco and French perfume coming off Lestat. The hairspray and warm honey shampoo that he’d stolen from Louis’ hotel an year ago. Pieces of their unconventional relationship connecting them across whatever distance they put between them.
Louis’ lips part, his smart reply failing to bubble out, and Lestat hums before leaning in. Neither of them seems able to resist the temptation to draw closer. Galactic gravity circling them nearer and nearer. Louis knows there will be no space at all if he allows himself too much freedom.
“What am I to do with you, Lestat?” Louis whispers, feeling the tickle of Lestat’s breath as the elder’s hand trails down Louis’ arm. A fingertip daring the permission to touch him after all their past hurts. After these many months of playing the international game of chase. Of will they, or won’t they?
“Embrasse moi mon amour,” Lestat purrs. “Strike me, hate me, leave me here alone in my misery. But je t'en supplie, kiss me first.”
Louis lets out the faintest of groans as his nose brushes against Lestat’s. His hands grip the man by his arms, feeling the cool tingle of the chains against his skin, and he holds him still as the battle is fought against his judgment. As he starts to lose it, horrifically .
Lestat would not kiss him first. He would not close the distance despite Louis’ desperate desire for him to do it. To take away the responsibility of allowing this to happen again. It has to be him, he has to hand over that gift of intimacy.
His lips are at the corner of Lestat’s mouth, and Lestat is practically shaking in anticipation. “ Lestat --” He whispers with his own veneration, and he tilts his head as his lips ghost over Lestat’s halfway parted ones.
Lestat’s arm loops around his waist, bringing his body flush against his own as he takes the inch given for the whole mile. Lestat’s kiss is desperate, chasing Louis’ touch and affection as if he were a dying man in a desert and Louis is a promised oasis spring.
It takes Louis a few seconds to catch back up. A hand skirts across his chest and around his neck holding him against him. He groans into Lestat’s kiss before returning it in earnest. Lips part, he nips at his lip before using his other hand to wind into Lestat’s hair. It feels awful, crunchy, and unnatural, and he tugs on it softly to pull their kiss apart.
Lestat gasps, a wet plop between them as he’s deprived of what he seems so ravenous for. “You gotta stop doing your hair like this,” Louis whispers darkly, winding a strand around his fingers as the energy vibrates between them. “How am I supposed to card through it? How am I supposed to resist the temptation to ruin it like this?”
His words shoot straight to Lestat’s core, and Louis feels that all too familiar urgency bloom between them.
“ Ruin me ,” Lestat begs him, completely unrepentant as his hands wander down Louis’ figure and paw at him. Louis chuckles at the request, and his good humor adds another layer to the emotion between them. The corner of Lestat’s eyes are pooling with red tears. “Just keep letting me hear that perfect laugh, and par tout le pouvoir dans ce monde diabolique, ruin me for any and all around us.”
“You saying there’s an any and all around us I gotta watch out for?” Louis teases softly before tilting Lestat’s head back. He leaves a trail of hot sharp marks at his jaw and down to his throat. Lestat inhales sharply and shakes his head. “No, non, there is only you. You are the only one for me, propriétaire de mon cœur, gardien de mon âme.
Louis smirks satisfied before releasing Lestat’s hair in favor of returning to his lips. “You remember that when you write your pretty little songs, hm? When all those fans start throwing themselves at your feet…” He eggs it on, painting the image if only to prove how meaningless it will be without Louis in it.
“They can throw themselves on the spikes below if only to make a path for you to find me again,” Lestat whispers back before stealing him in another kiss. Somehow they’ve managed to move backward, and Lestat stumbles onto the throne and easily catches Louis. His weight against Lestat is a clear balm to his overwhelming anxiety.
He pulls Louis onto his lap, looping his arms around him as they exchange long overdue affection. Lestat’s overly complicated chain mail is a pain in the ass to navigate, but Louis figures out how to unbutton the damn thing and Lestat shrugs out of it. Louis could have any part of him, and Louis seems content marring his skin with permanent reminders. Or, at least, semi-permanent for them.
“Mon Louis, mon saint, mon salut. Scelle-moi à toi pour toujours. Mon bien-aimé. Mon mari,” Lestat croons on and on. Unable to shut up, unable to stop the anxious energy from overspewing into the air. Louis shifts back, and Lestat lets out a whine which Louis answers with a laugh. The younger moves down to his knees in front of his maker before undoing Lestat’s belt and yanking it free.
Lestat looks drunk, he appears lost in a tailspin of the most gratifying proportions. He beholds Louis as if he were the sun at the center of his galaxy. The only anchor holding him to the mortal plain. And Louis, Louis drunk up that adoration as feverishly as blood.
“Don’t stop,” Lestat breathes, his chest rising and falling as Louis briefly pauses to take him in. His fingers undo Lestat’s fliviriously expensive pants, button by button, as he regards him. “ Oh yeah? ” Louis coaxes him on.
Lestat’s hips lift ever so slightly as Louis’ touch trails over his most sensitive place. Already strained against his leathers, it just takes Louis’ softest passing touch for Lestat to let out a hiss of anticipation.
“You're pretty when you’re wound up,” Louis tells him, and Lestat clenches his jaw and glares at the teasing vampire.
“Is this more punishment?” Lestat whispers, clearly trying to contain his impulse to rip Louis back off the floor and drag him into his dressing room. Louis has undone the pants enough to reach in them for him. Just as he seems to lean in, a perfect snapshot that Lestat would one day surely need to have painted and hung over his bedroom, a cough echoes loudly behind them.
Both freeze and Lestat’s eyes are the color of pitch as he spots Daniel Molloy standing several feet behind them next to his camera. “You two realize this thing is still running?” No shame, no concern. Just a deadpan reminder.
Louis goes cold, absolutely frozen as water is dumped onto him. His hands start shaking, and he fumbles to cover Lestat up. “No... Non , mon cher,” Lestat whines, but Louis scrambles back to stand and starts wiping his face and neck. Reality snaps back in, and it’s clear whatever haze Lestat has managed to enact is draining out with haste.
“Destroy the fucking tape,” Louis snaps at Daniel, and the fledgling looks at him with amusement and holds his hands up. “It’s digital, goes into the cloud. No tape to destroy.”
Lestat stands and fumbles to straighten his clothes. “Louis, it is fine --” Lestat starts, but the emerald-eyed vampire whirls around at the camera before kicking the thing with all his strength. It snaps cleanly from its mount and flies into the neighboring concrete wall.
Daniel’s jaw drops, not expecting that level of destruction from Louis, and he throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “
What the hell, man?!
That is the second one this week! I was just fucking with you, for fucks sake!”
Louis turns to start walking out, his head shaking as shame and regret begin to bloom inside him. Lestat becomes frantic to chase after him. “ Louis ! Please don’t leave, ma chérie, s'il te plaît!” The stage door slams right in Lestat’s face, and he can see the door's warped metal edges have stuck it into place.
“Well shit, that had the opposite effect, I was hoping you two would cool each other off--” Daniel offers unexpectedly, and Lestat turns back to glare at him.
He stalks over to Daniel, a hand outreached before the fledgling goes flying into the concrete wall beside his precious million-dollar camera. “No manners! No respect!” Lestat snarls. He collects his things from the side of the set before using the back door to go and find Louis.
Despite the mere moments between them leaving, Louis is not found. Lestat looks everywhere around the studio’s sets and even in the parking lot. He tries to call several times, first aloud and then by phone. All go unanswered.
It isn’t until he’s back at the hotel, begrudgingly tucking his exhausted and weary self into his coffin, that he feels his phone go off.
[05:43] Mon Mari Louis: I’m heading to Portland now, my phone will be off for a few hours.
[05:43] Mon Mari Louis: I’ll be safe if you promise not to be a brat.
His heart leaps into his chest, and it takes him several precious minutes to fumble his way to type out a response.
[05:46] Lestat de Lioncourt: I miss you, mon cher, I wish you would have stayed.
It’s the truth, not overcasting it as Louis seems all too willing to do. They always did this. Always swept it under the rug. This fumble is the biggest movement in their months-long stalemate yet. He doesn’t know if he could endure Louis ignoring it again.
[05:47] Mon Mari Louis: I’m sorry. I got overwhelmed. It’s nothing on you, Les.
He swallows back the tears that inevitably build, and, in truth, there is little comfort to Louis’ assurance he hadn’t been the problem.
[05:48] Lestat de Lioncourt: How long will you be in Portland? I have a show coming up in Seattle.
Maybe, if he were lucky, he could convince Louis to come. Make use of his outstanding ticket, and perhaps truly let go and enjoy a night.
[05:49] Mon Mari Louis: Two days, I have a deal for some collection pieces. I’ll be back in Dubai after that.
It stung, the ease with which Louis could escape these shores and hardly care to look back. Lestat wished he could compel him to remain. Entice him to let Lestat back in.
[05:50] Lestat de Lioncourt: If you asked it of me, I would abandon all of it to come to you. However, you would wish it, whatever you would allow me.
There is no instant response, no instant denial. Lestat lays there in his coffin desperate for one hint of agreement or understanding. Even if Louis denied him, it would be better than being ignored.
[06:00] Mon Mari Louis: I just want you to be happy, Lestat. I want us to be happy as our own people. That's all I can do right now. If it makes you unhappy for me to leave everytime I visit, maybe it would be better for me not to visit at all?
How cruel the thought of denying him all connection just to spare Lestat the pain of watching him go. Lestat fiddles with his rings as he feels his last meal churn in his stomach. In his heart, Louis is all there truly was. He’d suffered through seven decades trying to let Louis go and be happy. He doubts he has the strength to endure much more of it.
[06:02]: Lestat de Lioncourt: I would rather you there. I’ll do better, I promise.
Anything is better than silence. Anything is better than not knowing where Louis was, if he was safe, if he was happy..
[06:04]: Mon Mari Louis: You didn’t do anything wrong, Les. I promise I’ll tell you if you did. Just please try to enjoy this journey for a while even if I’m not there…. And maybe stop dumping an entire bottle of gel in your white fine ass hair.
The response makes him huff, having already washed his hair clean at Louis’ previous request. It is something so small in his mind if it made Louis happy.
[06:05] Mon Mari Louis: Plane’s taking off. I’ll text you when I’m set up at the hotel.
It is a bittersweet resolution, but it at least assures him not all hope was lost. He lets the phone go dark as it rests against his chest. His eyes shut even if he doubted his dreams would be anything as sweet as what he saw that day.
His beautiful sweet Louis, those bright warm eyes, and his endlessly illuminating laugh…