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Debbie Harry Jan 4, 1980

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 3.07: The Failures TVLTwT/IWTVTwT Version.

As the last notes ring out through the room, Lestat wipes at his eyes, a smile curving his lips upwards.

"That was wonderful."

He's met with a sigh and slumped shoulders as Nicki goes to place the violin back in its case.

"What?" Lestat asks, tilting his head. "What's the matter?"

"It still isn't right," Nicki says, sounding irritated and down-trodden all at once.

He walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge with his back to Lestat, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Lestat frowns at him from where he sits on the bed behind him.

"It sounded alright to me."

"Well it would to you," Nicki scoffs, "you can't hear it the way I can." He rubs at his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache, pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. "It's just that one part near the end, I can't quite–" He scoffs again, leaning his forehead against his palm. "I don't know why I'm trying to explain it to you, it's not like you'd understand."

Lestat feels a touch wounded at the comment but pushes it aside and scoots over to sit at his back, resting his head on his shoulder with his arms wrapped around his waist.

"You could try anyway," he suggests.

"And then what? I'll suddenly be able to perfect it just like that?" Nicki clicks his fingers. "Face it, Lestat, there are just some things I'll never master."

"Don't say that," Lestat protests softly, "it sounds too much like you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up, just accepting the truth."

Nicki raises his head and stares ahead, gazing out the window across the room with a resigned look on his face.

"Well I don't think so," Lestat counters, pressing a kiss to Nicki's shoulder. "It's only the truth if you let it be, you just have to keep trying. You'll get it eventually, I know you will." He kisses him again, lips pressed to his neck this time. "You're much too good to let this defeat you."

Nicki scowls a little, shifting away from him to lie down against the pillows, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

"I'm serious, you're too harsh on yourself," Lestat tells him, looking down at him from his seat on the bed.

"I'm being realistic," Nicki retorts, hands still pressed to his eyes. "We can't all be effortless geniuses in whatever we please like you."

Lestat rests a hand on his ankle and gives a pointed look. "You don't need to be like me, you're already talented in your own right, far more than you give yourself credit for."

"Be quiet," Nicki grumbles.

"I will not," Lestat says and moves to climb on top of him, straddling his waist. "In fact, I won't stop until you believe me."

"Well you'll be trying to quite a while, then."

"As long as it takes," Lestat smiles.

Nicki shifts a hand and glares up at him. "Must you sit on me to do it?"

Lestat's smile turns sly. "I can't risk you trying to escape while I tell you just how talented you are. You realise how impressive it is to pick up a violin at twenty?"

"Impressively old, maybe."

"No, it's amazing. Inspiring. Any child can take it up and spend so many hours and years trying to perfect their craft. But you. You've accomplished so much in such short time. Anyone would be lucky to accomplish even half as much as you in that time and yet you make it look so easy. You have a gift for it."

Nicki covers his face with his hands but Lestat could swear he sees his cheeks redden despite himself.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." His voice comes out muffled from behind his hands.

"I say it because I believe it. I say it because it's true. Do you think so many people can be wrong? My mother, me, our friends at the theatre, the audience? Renaud doesn't give you solos out of the kindness of his heart, he gives them to you because he knows you capture the attention of everyone in that room and hold them there until even after the last note fills the air."

Nicki groans from behind his hands. "Lestat, stop it, will you."

"You pretend not to notice but when you stand in that orchestra pit and the light falls upon you, the whole room waits with baited breath for that first sound of bow against strings. The audience sit forward, attentive, just waiting to hear that first note; I stand in the wings with my fellow actors, fighting myself not to run and sit on the edge of the stage, so desperately wanting to get as close as possible to your magic. We all want to feel it, Nicki, your magic. Because that's your gift to us, the magic of your soul laid bare for us all to bask in."

"Lestat, please," Nicki says, practically begging. "That's enough."

"But it's not," Lestat counters, a sense of awe tinting his words. "It's never enough. You play with your hands, your fingers so long and swift on the strings, taking us all with you through the music."

He pulls Nicki's hands from his face, smile widening to see the flush brought to his cheeks, his awkward discomfort written all over his face even as he glowers up at him. Looking him in the eye, Lestat lifts his hands to his lips and kisses each of his calloused fingers in turn, his palms, his aching wrists so sore from playing.

The flush in Nicki's face deepens, though Lestat suspects it's from more than just embarrassment. He continues to smile, bringing Nicki's knuckles to his lips and kissing them, then holds his hands in each of his own, gazing down at him adoringly.

"But it's from your heart the music comes from. When you play, we can hear your soul; it pours from you in the most mesmerising torrent. We feel you in your music, right down to our own very souls. It demands attention, commands that we stop and listen to the music of you."

Lestat releases one of Nicki's hands and places his own on his chest, feeling the rapid thud thud thud of Nicki's heart beneath his palm.

He looks away, turning his head to the side and Lestat's almost certain he sees him blink back tears. With his hand still resting over his heart, Lestat lets go of Nicki's other hand, gently turning his face back to look at him and leaning down to brush their lips together.

"Your soul is beautiful," he whispers, kissing him softly on the mouth. "So beautiful. It's the purest thing, so full of spirit and passion. It's magnificent, a true miracle come to life."

Lestat kisses him, slow and gentle, sliding his hand down the length of Nicki's body from his chest to his hips, slipping into his breeches and grinning against his mouth when he hears the breath catch in his throat.

"And what a privilege it is to bear witness to, the sound of your soul."

Nicki's breath grows heavy and ragged as Lestat strokes him, lips teasing his with each word spoken against his mouth, whispered as if sharing a secret for his ears only.

"I wonder if anyone knows the great honour that comes with hearing you play, as you flay yourself open with every draw of your bow and lay yourself bare for us all to marvel at."

He leaves a trail of kisses along Nicki's jaw, moving down to kiss his neck; hot breath tickles his ear as Nicki pants, one hand coming to grip his thigh while another tangles in his hair. Lestat nips at his skin and shifts his hips over Nicki's, earning him a shaken gasp as reward.

"Your soul is the music to make even angels weep," Lestat says into his ear, voice hushed. "They write songs about you up in heaven, about the boy who's soul is so pure he makes even the clouds in the sky stop to listen." He nuzzles against Nicki's cheek. "But their songs could never hope to compare to yours."

He quickens the pace of his hand in Nicki's breeches to the sound of his heavy panting against his ear. Capturing his mouth in another kiss, forceful yet slow, Lestat takes in all the beautiful noises he makes, a different kind of music in their own right.

He parts from the kiss, smiling a little when Nicki tries to chase his lips and giving him one more chaste kiss in response. He rests their foreheads together, hot breath hitting his skin from beneath him.

"You tell me there's a darkness in you, that you're evil and that you revel in it. But how can that be true when your soul is made of light itself? It's the very meaning of goodness, don't you see? The world holds its breath just to hear you, time stops just so you can fill it with that wonderful music."

Lestat feels a shudder from under him and touching his lips to his cheeks, he feels a slight wetness that wasn't there before.

"Nicolas de Lenfent, my Nicki. You were put on this earth to show us your soul. You have and will achieve so much. You are light, you are good. And you are beautiful."

A soft, choked cry escapes Nicki then as he reaches his release and his hands tighten on Lestat's thigh and in his hair. Lestat covers his face in light kisses and withdraws his hand from Nicki's breeches, wiping it off on the blanket beside him and briefly telling himself he'll deal with it later.

Nicki brings his arms around Lestat, holding him close as his body shudders and trembles both with the aftermath of his orgasm and the tears which he seems to try and hide, silent save for the occasional sniffle.

Lestat stays right where he is, unmoving, refusing to sit up in spite of his body starting to ache so long as his lover needs him close. He leans his head against Nicki's shoulder, face tucked into his neck with his arm over his chest, hand resting on his other shoulder.

They stay like that for some time, Lestat laying against him, acting as a comforting weight almost, and Nicki holding him to himself, cheek resting against the top of Lestat's head.

Eventually, the shaking and sniffling stop, Nicki falling still and silent. He loosens his hold on Lestat, though doesn't release him entirely, and his breath evens out, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath Lestat's arm. They lie in the quiet together, Lestat still not moving from his position even though his muscles are screaming at him to sit up.

After a few moments longer in the tranquil silence, Lestat murmurs quietly against Nicki's neck.

"Do you believe it now, the talent you possess?"

Nicki stays silent, the quiet dragging out long enough that Lestat wonders whether he's heard him. Then,

"No."

That one simple word leaves Lestat stunned, hitting him with full force it almost hurts. Finally, he sits up, untangling himself from Nicki's arms so he can stare down at him, face a mixture of bewilderment, pain and sorrow. He tries to conjure up something to say, opens his mouth to ask him why?, but nothing comes out. He stares at him, lost for words.

Nicki gazes back up at him, a sadness in his eyes even as he offers Lestat a small smile. He places one hand back on his thigh, the other on his waist, thumb gently rubbing back and forth as if to comfort him even though if either of them need it, Lestat surely doesn't think it's him.

He tries again to ask him why. Why, after all he's said, does Nicki still refuse to see his own worth? But like before, his words fail him and he's left staring at him tearfully. Nicki's sadness seems to deepens, though Lestat can't tell whether it's sadness for himself, for Lestat, or both. He tries to smile more but Lestat can see the effort it takes him to do such a simple action; he wishes he wouldn't do it, wouldn't do something that hurts himself just to comfort him.

Nicki goes to speak then, and despite the sombre quality in both his eyes and words, it makes Lestat smile and his chest bloom with warmth.

nickistat’s one wish willow

I love them <3

He gave me the gift rather than tell me he love me.