Angstosaur

After Odette had wreaked havoc on the more vulnerable dwellings in New Orleans, including the shack where he’d found Lestat, he’d stayed a couple of days and then given Lestat one of his own credit cards so he could either stay in his hotel suite, or find other accommodation. During the time they’d shared the room, Lestat had slept in the coffin while Louis had made use of the bed. It was too soon for anything else. Neither had needed to say as much, but at the time they were just glad to be in each other’s company again.

Two months had passed when Lestat informed him that he was looking into purchasing property in Montreal. For reasons that Louis understood, he did not want to remain in New Orleans. The only reason it had taken him two months to consider moving was that he needed his solicitor in Paris to arrange new papers to be sent to him, such as visas and passports on account of his previous documentation being several decades out of date.

It was only then that Louis realised Lestat hadn’t been out of New Orleans since he’d returned there after the trial. He suspected that Lestat would have treated that as a form of penance, staying in the city where they had once shared so much … enduring squalor where they had once had a family.

Naturally, when Lestat announced his intention to move away, Louis understood. New Orleans held too many memories, good, bad and downright ugly. And then, when Lestat asked if Louis would accompany him to Montreal to find a suitable residence, Louis had barely managed to supress his excitement.

“Sure. I can do that.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose on you … after all, you are a busy- ”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Where are you planning on staying in the city?”

“The Ville-Marie Borough. It is close to the areas I am interested in and is close to both the Museum of Fine Arts and the Opéra de Montréal, and not far from a park I want to check out.”

Louis did a quick search of luxury hotels in the area and smiled as he saw the Ritz Carlton was midway between the opera house and the art gallery. “Let’s stay at the Ritz Carlton. They’ve got a gallery or local artists – I can combine business and pleasure that way.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll text you my travel arrangements and see you there.”

~~~

Lestat was in the lobby of the hotel when Louis arrived, readily identifiable by his glossy fair hair that caught the lights of the chandeliers above him.

“Hi there,” said Louis, walking over to meet him. They embraced as if they’d been parted for decades again, each rejoicing in the closeness of the other. After a kiss on each cheek, they parted slightly.

The lobby was buzzing with people gathering to go into dinner or out on the town and yet Lestat cut a lonely figure, sat on his own, watching the revolving doors for Louis’s arrival.

“Hey, you didn’t have to wait down here for me, you couldha just texted me your room number.”

“My room number?” Lestat looked panicky. “Mais, Louis – you implied you would arrange the accommodation.”

Thinking back on their conversation, Louis realised he hadn’t made it clear he’d just be booking for himself. He’d suggested the hotel and not stopped to consider that Lestat wouldn’t book his own room. “That’s fine, we’ll ask reception what’s available.”

There were no other rooms.

“You can share my suite – I think it’s got two beds,” said Louis, awkwardly. He still didn’t know exactly where they stood with each other.

There weren’t two beds. Just the one, albeit a king sized bed.

“It’s alright, Louis,” muttered Lestat, gesturing at the sofa. “There are plenty of pillows and there will be spare blankets. I can sleep in here- ”

“No!” protested Louis. “There’s no need … unless… well unless you’d rather not share with me…”

“Never!” exclaimed Lestat, before sighing and picking up his suitcase. “However, if it would make you uncomfortable, I can enquire about vacancies at another hotel.”

The look of desolation on Lestat’s face was unbearable. Shaking his head, Louis took the case off Lestat and put it down and then wrapped his arms around him. “I want to be close to you… that OK?”

“More than OK…” said Lestat, although the crooked smile indicated he was uncertain of Louis’s true feelings. “But you want to take it slow? Yes?”

“Yeah…” admitted Louis, unable to deny Lestat’s perceptive deduction. “For now.”

“Bien sûr. Je comprends.”

“Hey, it’s not you, hon… it’s just me, I need time.” After eight decades with Armand, sharing a bed, yet hardly ever an affectionate touch, he was still adjusting to the new reality. The fact that the slightest of touches from Lestat was sufficient to have his heart racing could be down to being starved of the kind of passionate affection that Lestat exuded. He felt the need to pace himself and not to binge on what he could tell was on offer if only he gave the word.

~~~ They decided to take a night time walk around the city on their first night, to determine which area had the best vibe for nocturnal inhabitants. Criminal elements were of no concern to them as they just provided additional feeding opportunities.

Lestat had already identified two main neighbourhoods that he was interested in – the Mile End and Le Plateau-Mont-Royal, both described as artistic communities, hubs for musicians and artists alike. As they wandered from one district to another, they identified the neighbourhoods that had a vibrant nightlife, with live music spilling out from bars and clubs. Seeing the multicultural, multiethnic nature of the communities and clear indications of a tolerant society had both of them feeling relaxed. They were also well fed, having found a belligerent visitor preaching that anyone waving a rainbow flag would be condemned to an eternity burning in hell.

Having scoped out the streets with properties for sale that appealed to Lestat the most, they ended up in Mount Royal Park, strolling along pathways between trees, their hands linked. For the longest while they walked in silence, just listening to the night sounds of birds settling down amongst occasional squabbles, a few honks from Canada geese as they escorted troops of golden goslings towards their roosts and the distant sound of traffic.

Every now and then, Lestat would brush his thumb across the pulse point in Louis’s wrist, as if tentatively requesting a deeper connection. Walking in step, Louis smiled. Focusing on their heart beats he could hear they were as in sync as their breathing. The connection was already being reforged.

“Wanna sit on that bench – the one by the lake?” he asked.

“I would like that very much,” replied Lestat, his voice catching slightly. Louis waited for Lestat to sit down first and then sat next to him. Close enough that their thighs were pressed together. He didn’t want to leave Lestat in any doubt as to how close he wanted to be to him.

Looking out over the water, which sparkled as the moonlight caught the ripples from water birds wading across slowly it seemed that the night stood still. Out of nowhere, a couple of bats skimmed low over the water, feeding on bugs of some sort. He could imagine Lestat strolling around the park on his own when he moved to Montreal. That thought left him unsettled. He didn’t like to think of Lestat on his own. In the early years of their relationship he’d told Louis that loneliness was his greatest fear.

He was about to ask if Lestat thought he’d be able to make friends in Canada when he noticed that Lestat was holding his breath. His brow was furrowed, as if there were a question on his mind that he dared not ask.

“What’s on your mind, Les?” Taking one of Lestat’s hands, he clasped it in his lap. “You can ask me anything.”

“Of course. I can ask, but you may choose not to answer – and that’s what troubles me. How I may react to your withholding of the answer.”

“I promise I’ll answer.”

“When you were with … him… did you walk in the parks in moonlight? Did you sit together on a bench …?”

Louis sighed. “At first. In Paris … before… before… when I first knew him… we’d take walks in the city… along the river… around Sacre Coeur… we’d sometimes sit on a bench and talk- ”

Lestat pulled his hand away. “I see – ”

“No you don’t,” said Louis, quickly reaching out to capture the hand pulled away from him. “You were there too … it was you I wished was with me, even then.”

“Vraiment?”

“Really. And then… after… afterwards. No not just after. Before, during and after – it were never anything like it had been with you. Our hearts were never aligned… even when I was mad as hell with you, I wanted you. I never stopped loving you.”

Lestat turned to look at Louis, a blood tear gathering on his lashes. “You loved me…”

“Never stopped. Still do. You once called it a cord that binds maker to fledgling – but that don’t explain what it is that pulls us together.”

“You’re right, mon cher,” muttered Lestat. “When … with Nicolas it seemed that the love we once had mutated into something darker when he became a vampire. He resented me… I assumed that you also resented me.”

“Only on account of what I believed you’d done,” explained Louis. “Soon as I found out the truth, there was nothing on earth that was gonna get in the way of me finding my way back to you.”

Louis hadn’t realised that he, too, was crying until Lestat leaned over and gently brushed the tears from his cheeks.

“Oh mon cher… so much time lost.”

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“That’s a tired cliché, Louis – I can think of several individuals for whom that is far from the truth.”

Louis chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

They were suddenly disturbed by the clanging sound of a waste bin. They spun around, as one, to see a raccoon burrowing into a pile of litter that had spilt onto the ground.

“That reminds me of the raccoon that took up residence in our home on Rue Royale.”

“Yeah – how the hell did that get in the house in the first place?”

“I brought it to you to eat, but you were in no mood for any offerings from me.”

“Claudia shooed it out,” said Louis, thinking fondly of how she had cleared up the mess that had accumulated in their home during her absence. “And then ended up bringing in pigeons for me to eat and they just shit on everything. And a goat.”

“A goat?” Lestat frowned.

“Yeah… you two were really much more alike than either of you would ever admit.”

“Hmmmm… perhaps that is why we argued so much.”

“Yeah … but I always knew you loved her.”

Lestat bit his lip. “I suspect the feeling was never mutual…”

“Don’t kid yourself. It was the situation she despised… and she blamed you for that… but that was on both of us.” Louis pressed his lips together, recalling the circumstances when he’d pleaded with Lestat to take a wounded young girl, severely burnt on account of his actions, and make a vampire of her. Closing his eyes, he recalled the rows he’d had with Claudia when they’d been travelling around Europe. “I guess she hated and loved us both, in different ways and at different times.”

“As a daughter?” prompted Lestat, cautiously.

“Yeah. Our daughter.”

Resting his head on Lestat’s shoulder, Louis felt an arm slide around his shoulders, drawing him in closer. The scent of Lestat filled his nostrils. He smelt of belonging. It was like coming home after a prolonged period spent away from all that grounded you and made you feel at peace.

“Shall we go back to the hotel now?” he whispered, almost afraid of breaking the spell that encompassed them.

There was a moment of silence and then Lestat leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Louis’s head. “Yes.”

~~~ Neither of them spoke a word as they walked back to the Ritz Carlton. No words were needed. They moved through the streets side by side, hand in hand, in harmony with one another. In the elevator, they turned to face each other, eyes meeting and seeing nothing else but adoration. Entering their suite, Louis led Lestat to the bedroom, where they undressed each other slowly and with infinite care. Pausing before each button was unfastened, or zip eased down, ensuring that neither was moving too fast.

Small gasps of pleasure as fingertips caressed bare skin and sighs of delight as their bodies came together, from lip to hip … kisses were exchanged and became deeper as their mouths opened and breaths were shared.

It was Lestat who scooped Louis into his arms and carried him to the bed, settling him down gently on the thick eiderdown cover. They lay face to face, side by side, slowly fondling one another, reacquainting themselves with the curves of backs, buttocks, hips and thighs, while their hearts were closer than ever. Sliding his leg between Lestat’s thighs, Louis pulled him closer still, until their arousals came together, causing their hearts to beat faster.

They had not lain together since the night before the Mardi Gras Ball … and that thought made Louis’s heart ache. So much lay between them in the intervening decades and yet they were together again. Making love with their whole being, body, heart and soul reminded Louis that it had only ever been making love with Lestat. It had been sex with Jonah and Armand. Fucking with the strangers he picked up in bars. But with Lestat, it transcended the physical and became a spiritual experience.

Without needing to ask, they drank from each other’s throats as they came, letting the blood flow from one to the other, as other fluids were spilt between them.

A sensation of euphoria flooded Louis’s senses as he held Lestat close, seeing in his blown pupils and smile of ecstasy that he was sharing the very same experience.

It had taken almost a century and thousands of miles to come back to where they had started. As Lestat had told him on that altar… ‘I send my love to you and you send it back around to me.’ He’d been right about the circle that kept bringing them back to each other.

Later that night, as the sky was starting to lighten over the city of Montreal, they lay in each other’s arms, at peace with the world and with each other.