Life in New Orleans can, at times, be a rollercoaster. While it's not the ideal romance Lestat had envisioned, at the very least he's happier than he's been in several decades. Besides, the constant give-and-take, tug-and-pull nature of their relationship makes it exciting. Trust Louis to ensure that Lestat is less bored than usual. Perhaps he's even coming to enjoy the little moments of domesticity they seem to carve out for themselves.
Which is why, at least on this night, Lestat is out for only an hour at most before he's walking back through the door of their home. Jacket carefully placed on its hook, he sweeps his way into the sitting room.
"I have never met anyone with such a penchant for reading as you, my dear."
There's fondness colouring his words, though, and its in his gaze as well as he looks at Louis on the couch with a book. Lestat sits beside him. He leans into Louis's personal space, one arm along the back of the couch while he presents a small, wrapped box with his free hand.
"For you. I saw them in a shop window and thought of you." Inside the box, a set of cufflinks set with remarkable stones. "Dazzling jewels amid so much mundanity."
At times, thinking of where his life (if it could still be called such a thing) currently was compared to where he had expected it to go was overwhelming. Things he had taken for granted as a foundation - his brother, his sister, Mamaw - were gone. That which he'd long since accepted as unattainable, to be loved by and love a man in authentic equal measure, was now something that washed over him in all-consuming waves. Lestat's attention and romance was something Louis could find himself drowning in all too easily. He felt untethered, adrift and separate from all of society as he'd always been, and when it felt too much he sought refuge in reading.
The Pointe du Lacs had always been blessed with a comfortable personal library, although in his living days he'd rarely found the time to indulge in idleness after his father had passed. That had all chanced, in the years since. He had all the time in the world, it was true, although Louis could never commit himself to the life of the idle rich like Lestat already had. Leisure, true relaxation for the sake of it, was a luxury Louis was still acclimatizing to.
On nights when Lestat went out - presumably to feed, it was still a sensitive topic between the two of them and Louis was trying to exercise his ability to keep from sniping at the matter - Louis would distract himself by putting on a house robe and stretching himself out comfortably on one of the couches. He'd pour a glass of bourbon and light a fine cigar, both more for the ambience than consumption, and return to whichever book it was he was reading. He enjoyed biographies, or semi-autobiographical at the very least, and tonight he was reading This Side of Paradise by a young chap named Fitzgerald. It wasn't bad.
He hears the door, but doesn't acknowledge Lestat's return until the man is in the room with him, looking up silently and raising an eyebrow in a quiet question at the man's early return. As Lestat comes to sit beside him, Louis shifts and straightens up unconsciously to give him the space. He has to, anyway, in order to mark his page and put the book down out of the way. It was easier to give Lestat his full attention from the start, rather than wait until he demanded it.
"For me?" He echoes curiously, taking the box and opening it cautiously. The cufflinks inside shine in the low light, and despite the many wonders that Lestat had already shown him, they were still impressive. There's a soft snort of dismissive amusement, though, at the thought that this gift was 'just because' they had caught Lestat's eye.
"I don't think I forgot our anniversary. What's the occasion?" With his free hand he touches Lestat's jaw, pressing in to give him a brief but thankful kiss before his words could be misconstrued as ungrateful. "Thank you. Help me with them?" Louis asked, shaking back the oversized sleeves of his housecoat to extend an arm and offer up his wrist.
Lestat cannot deny how he pleased he feels by the reaction. Not that he had anticipated Louis doing anything other than what Louis had exactly done, but the self satisfaction washed over him all the same. Were Lestat the sort to practice any self-introspection, he might acknowledge some deep-seated issue that prompted him to feel the need to buy love. Gifts have always been one of his preferred ways to woo and romance. A well-thought token could do wonders to patch up a fight. It could ease bruised feelings or fouled moods. It could earn him just this, a soft touch and a softer kiss as the object of his affection humours him.
What good is decades of accumulated wealth if one can not share it?
“Truly, you wound me.”
Lestat’s voice is a murmur, his low voice becoming an amused sort of rumble as the corners of his lips quirk up. He takes the opportunity to brush his fingers against the smooth skin of Louis’s wrist before setting to the task, making the act of securing the cufflink something delicate and purposeful.
“Is it so unbelievable that I might find myself thinking of you?”
It's hard to stay angry at Lestat; the man has a way about him, an air that draws Louis in and makes it difficult to remember all he's done in the past. It's more than simply engaging, and Louis has never been able to tell if it's some supernatural gift or an innate facet of the man he loved. Or, a quiet voice whispered to him, when he lay alone in his coffin, this is just what love feels like. He didn't feel the head rush, the burning cheeks and butterflies in the stomach that he'd once thought were all signs of love. Sometimes, since his death, he didn't think he felt much of anything at all - a weakness he would never confide in Lestat, knowing the man would leverage it against him to make him even more complicit in his decadent murders. He wasn't thinking of that now, with Lestat holding his hand so carefully and intimately touching his wrist.
"Non, mon cher," Louis reassures him, more placating now when their banter is light than he ever is in the midst of an argument. "What's unbelievable is that you'd come back here so early, instead of enjoying the rest of your evening out."
That you would choose to spend it with me, instead of doing wanton murder. If he didn't say the thought, it was as if he didn't think it. With the cufflink secured, Louis lifted Lestat's hand, kissing his knuckles fondly before giving over his other wrist for the next.
"What'd you plan to do with the rest of the night?"
He wasn't fishing. He really wasn't. Just because a gift like this deserved to be seen, and they hadn't had a night out together for longer than Louis would like to admit... When his pale blue eyes slowly raised from looking at the cufflink to looking at Lestat, he looked like a dog begging for scraps from the table.
At the question, Lestat merely shrugs one shoulder, barely a gesture and barely a response. They both know exactly what Lestat might have had planned for the night. He would have become the life of the party somewhere, wooing men and women alike with too much ease and then seeing one or two of them to a gruesome (albeit exhilarating) end. Or maybe this had been his plan all along, to buy Louis some extravagant gift that cost too much money while people around them struggle to make a living and then soak in the attention he longs for.
"What does it matter now? I find myself much more content where I am."
The fact of it is that Lestat's also noticed that it's been too long since the two of them had gone out. He assumes, of course, it's due to Louis's dislike of the approach he takes to their vampiric nature. Whatever the reason, Lestat isn't blind to the way they seem to be casually drifting apart. These cufflinks are like a life preserver, being sent out into the dark waters to draw Louis back to him and anchoring him there.
When Lestat meets Louis's gaze, it's with the same look of adoration he'd look at him with when they first started this journey together.
Louis hums softly at Lestat's casual dismissal of his question; he's being played, and he should know it, but it's just so much easier to choose to believe him. After all, Lestat's here with him, isn't he? That had to mean something. Louis shifts in closer against the man's side, taking his hand to thoughtfully entwine their fingers and hold his wrist out for them both to see the sparkle of the cufflink. Lestat would rather look at him, and truly how could he resent the man?
"I love them," He reassured, squeezing at Lestat's hand. "I love you. I don't say it near enough." It isn't an apology, but perhaps the closest he can come to asking not to fight. Louis leans in for a kiss, their lips almost touching before he smirks and puts his hand on Lestat's chest.
"Take me out. A gift like this, it needs to be seen." Louis knows his lover well enough that one of the greatest gifts he can give in return is the opportunity to show off. As much a chance to display the cufflinks as it is an excuse to display Lestat himself.
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Which is why, at least on this night, Lestat is out for only an hour at most before he's walking back through the door of their home. Jacket carefully placed on its hook, he sweeps his way into the sitting room.
"I have never met anyone with such a penchant for reading as you, my dear."
There's fondness colouring his words, though, and its in his gaze as well as he looks at Louis on the couch with a book. Lestat sits beside him. He leans into Louis's personal space, one arm along the back of the couch while he presents a small, wrapped box with his free hand.
"For you. I saw them in a shop window and thought of you." Inside the box, a set of cufflinks set with remarkable stones. "Dazzling jewels amid so much mundanity."
no subject
The Pointe du Lacs had always been blessed with a comfortable personal library, although in his living days he'd rarely found the time to indulge in idleness after his father had passed. That had all chanced, in the years since. He had all the time in the world, it was true, although Louis could never commit himself to the life of the idle rich like Lestat already had. Leisure, true relaxation for the sake of it, was a luxury Louis was still acclimatizing to.
On nights when Lestat went out - presumably to feed, it was still a sensitive topic between the two of them and Louis was trying to exercise his ability to keep from sniping at the matter - Louis would distract himself by putting on a house robe and stretching himself out comfortably on one of the couches. He'd pour a glass of bourbon and light a fine cigar, both more for the ambience than consumption, and return to whichever book it was he was reading. He enjoyed biographies, or semi-autobiographical at the very least, and tonight he was reading This Side of Paradise by a young chap named Fitzgerald. It wasn't bad.
He hears the door, but doesn't acknowledge Lestat's return until the man is in the room with him, looking up silently and raising an eyebrow in a quiet question at the man's early return. As Lestat comes to sit beside him, Louis shifts and straightens up unconsciously to give him the space. He has to, anyway, in order to mark his page and put the book down out of the way. It was easier to give Lestat his full attention from the start, rather than wait until he demanded it.
"For me?" He echoes curiously, taking the box and opening it cautiously. The cufflinks inside shine in the low light, and despite the many wonders that Lestat had already shown him, they were still impressive. There's a soft snort of dismissive amusement, though, at the thought that this gift was 'just because' they had caught Lestat's eye.
"I don't think I forgot our anniversary. What's the occasion?" With his free hand he touches Lestat's jaw, pressing in to give him a brief but thankful kiss before his words could be misconstrued as ungrateful. "Thank you. Help me with them?" Louis asked, shaking back the oversized sleeves of his housecoat to extend an arm and offer up his wrist.
no subject
What good is decades of accumulated wealth if one can not share it?
“Truly, you wound me.”
Lestat’s voice is a murmur, his low voice becoming an amused sort of rumble as the corners of his lips quirk up. He takes the opportunity to brush his fingers against the smooth skin of Louis’s wrist before setting to the task, making the act of securing the cufflink something delicate and purposeful.
“Is it so unbelievable that I might find myself thinking of you?”
no subject
"Non, mon cher," Louis reassures him, more placating now when their banter is light than he ever is in the midst of an argument. "What's unbelievable is that you'd come back here so early, instead of enjoying the rest of your evening out."
That you would choose to spend it with me, instead of doing wanton murder. If he didn't say the thought, it was as if he didn't think it. With the cufflink secured, Louis lifted Lestat's hand, kissing his knuckles fondly before giving over his other wrist for the next.
"What'd you plan to do with the rest of the night?"
He wasn't fishing. He really wasn't. Just because a gift like this deserved to be seen, and they hadn't had a night out together for longer than Louis would like to admit... When his pale blue eyes slowly raised from looking at the cufflink to looking at Lestat, he looked like a dog begging for scraps from the table.
no subject
"What does it matter now? I find myself much more content where I am."
The fact of it is that Lestat's also noticed that it's been too long since the two of them had gone out. He assumes, of course, it's due to Louis's dislike of the approach he takes to their vampiric nature. Whatever the reason, Lestat isn't blind to the way they seem to be casually drifting apart. These cufflinks are like a life preserver, being sent out into the dark waters to draw Louis back to him and anchoring him there.
When Lestat meets Louis's gaze, it's with the same look of adoration he'd look at him with when they first started this journey together.
"Do you like them?"
no subject
"I love them," He reassured, squeezing at Lestat's hand. "I love you. I don't say it near enough." It isn't an apology, but perhaps the closest he can come to asking not to fight. Louis leans in for a kiss, their lips almost touching before he smirks and puts his hand on Lestat's chest.
"Take me out. A gift like this, it needs to be seen." Louis knows his lover well enough that one of the greatest gifts he can give in return is the opportunity to show off. As much a chance to display the cufflinks as it is an excuse to display Lestat himself.