[open mingle: the sunlight at midnight gala]

[badfeyth]

WHO: Anyone attending the Sunlight at Midnight gala!
WHAT: KISS PEOPLE AND DANCE IDK
WHERE: The freshly-renovated Planetarium in District 4!
WHEN: Saturday, December 2
WARNINGS: None for the log itself; please warn responsibly in individual top-levels!

THE VENUE

Upon entry to the newly-renovated venue space that was once a planetarium, guests will quickly notice that the space has been transformed into a three-layered affair, ranging from the very well-lit upper level down to the more romantic ambiance of the dance floor and performance space, with a comfortable tier of seating and standing tables in the middle.


Not intended by Ghost (badfeyth) and Kaveh (fussiest), yet still mysteriously appearing at random places throughout the venue, are sprigs of magical kissing mistletoe!

The mistletoe will cause characters to at least pause underneath it, and will give them a mild compulsion to kiss whoever they're with, but the compulsion will not be unavoidable and characters can easily break free of the "hold" the mistletoe has on them. Even so, partygoers will quickly learn to be mindful of what's overhead — or not!

UPPER TIER

On the well-lit upper tier, guests will find plenty of generalized mingle room, including two patios with casual seating on either side of the space. Throughout the center are a variety of stations and attractions, as well as some helpful resources for the discerning partygoer.

For the fashionably un-forward, you may wish to visit (or find yourselves forcibly dragged into) Lestat's on-site fashion consulting lair, which boasts a small and curtained-off space where partygoers in need can receive last-minute fashion advice, do wardrobe finishing touches, and address any other aesthetic concerns under the discerning eye of LESTAT DE LIONCOURT (perfectdevil). This is also where a selection of basic cosmetics and beauty supplies can be found, in case of a need for an emergency touch-up, safety pin, or spot removal!

Continuing onward, guests will find four individual food stations, each with their own set of color-coded disposable dishware! Perhaps they'd like to take a sampling of:

• STATION #1 — TSURUNO (fanstheflames): Fried rice in the shape of Christmas trees, dumplings with carrot reindeer antlers and red pepper noses, and fortune cookies that tell you to go dance with somebody already!
• STATION #2 — ROLAND (gradenine): Hotpot with mild and spicy soup bases plus a variety of vegetables and meats, and KBBQ with chicken, pork, and beef cuts, plus sides!
• STATION #3 — RENO (astraphilia): Whipped goat cheese figs, brie and prosciutto stuffed dates, and sprouting cauliflower with brown butter and lemon — paired with a couple of simple cocktails (a negroni and a Bombay mule)!
• STATION #4 — WANDERER (featheradrift): Samosas, panipuri, Japanese-style sandwiches, and a lot of sweets and desserts like chocolate truffles, pâte de fruit, candied nuts, madeleines, and custards!

Champagne (alcoholic and non-alcoholic) is also circulating around the venue under the watchful eye of KANEKI (anthropophagite), and a small selection of coffee is available at a nearby station as well!

Finally, at the far end of the upper concourse, one can find a partitioned-off space for photo opportunities featuring a black-and-gold backdrop, an arch aglow with fairy lights, and a few idle props like chairs and small movable tables that partygoers can use to coordinate their souvenir photos. PROMPTO (burstmodes) will be around to do formal event photography, but there'll also be a Polaroid available so that people can take their own photos and develop them instantly!

VISUALS: AESTHETICS & ETC.

         

MIDDLE TIER

On the mid-tier halfway down the stairs that flank the venue on either side, partygoers will find a landing with an assortment of standing tables covered in black tablecloths and tied with gold bows, where guests can enjoy their refreshments, engage in conversation, and people-watch the goings-on taking place below them on the dance floor! To prevent any mischief or accidental spilling of food onto hapless dancers below, each landing is lined with a courtesy railing, and immediately below the railing is an arrangement of tasteful decor.

Between the two landings, guests can find the remnants of the planetarium seating — fold-down auditorium chairs with comfortable cushions arranged in gently circular rows, giving the people relaxing there a perfect view of the dance floor and the spectacle of lights taking place below it.

VISUALS: AESTHETICS & ETC.

    

LOWER TIER

The lowest level of the venue, at the very bottom of the stairs, is the most dimly-lit of the three levels and is mostly comprised of the dance floor. Along the back wall and parts of the sides runs a slightly-raised platform stage upon which are arranged a piano, an electric guitar, a stereo system, and a few microphones for the convenience of any vocalists in the house. The stage is wide enough for one or two people to walk around comfortably, but generally is fairly modest to leave the majority of the room for the dance floor.

It's on the dance floor that the real "sunlight at midnight" theme takes its shape, as this is where the bulk of Kaveh's artificial lighting technology has been put into play. Along with standard party enhancements like a few spotlights and an overhead disco ball, the perimeter is also dotted with round arrays of stained glass with light fixtures behind them, causing panels of colored light to cast onto the hardwood of the dance floor. These arrays can also be rotated like kaleidoscopes, allowing for the patterns of light to change throughout the course of the evening — adding an element of renewable interest in the continuing aesthetic.

VISUALS: AESTHETICS & ETC.

    

ENTERTAINMENT

Throughout the course of the evening, music will be provided by a rotating set list of performers, interspersed with prearranged playlists courtesy of the new media store. Entertainers will be informed of their set lengths, obligations, and timeslots well in advance of the venue by Ghost, and any necessary instruments or microphone hookups will be ready and available at the time of the performance.

Performers on deck include:

• HYTHLODAEUS (nomoresharks) and EMET-SELCH (recreator): Jazz piano bops along with some ragtime arrangements.
• EDDIE (thefreak): A mix of slow rock ballads and hard rock dance numbers, on electric guitar!

In addition to the live performances, the venue will also be treated to some traditional mid-2000s party favorites such as:

• BLORBOLICIOUS, by Gurgi (feat. Bill.i.was)
• HIPS SOMETIMES LIE, by The Kira
• SANDSQUALL, by DaNice
• MAYBE GONNA GIVE YOU UP, by Rickard Dastley
• MAMBO NO. 4 AND A HALF, by Stu Vega
• THE CHA-CHA HUSTLE, by DJ FriendlyGhost
• VIRUS, by Boo Boo Dolls

VISUALS: AESTHETICS & ETC.

    

LIVEBLOG

Looking to add some network spam to your gala experience? Check out our dedicated IC NETWORK POST!

credit.

Comments

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis laughs too, though it's little more than a soft rush of breath. )

Undoubtedly. 

( He sets their joined hands against his chest, his fingers running absently across Lestat's, dipping into the small grooves between his knuckles and re-learning the shape of his hands without a half-dozen rings in the way. There's only the one tonight, the one he'd put on Lestat's finger himself, and he finds his thumb tracing idle circles around the stone as he speaks, grounding himself in the present. 

Louis had never questioned Lestat's love for Claudia, even when he was certain that Lestat could never love him. She was Lestat's daughter as much as she was his, Lestat's little lion cub and his pupil in all things vampire, and the two of them had shared in both the thrill of the hunt and their love of luxury. If they weren't so similar, she never could have tried to murder Lestat. ) 

But the mortals here— the people, I mean— have been so kind to us. ( Kinder than we deserve, he doesn't say. ) I know it's only wishful thinking, but I would like to believe that she could have found someone who understood her, too.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat watches the light of the moon and twinkling stars reflect in the shining surface of Louis’ nails as he traces over and over that ring in a mesmerising pattern. He watches and wonders what he might be thinking about, though he can make an educated guess; if hearing Louis mention her had soothed fractures in Lestat’s heart then surely it must have done something similar for Louis, since the last time the three of them had been a family together Lestat had faced a great betrayal at her hands, and had every right to never want to speak of her again. He thinks of that, and it’s like he can feel that little yellow dress clutched tight in his burnt and broken hands again. ]

I think you’re right.

[ He sighs, quietly, expecting tears that don’t come. He feels more peaceful than sad, and honestly doesn’t see the point in crying over her despite how he loves to weep. She wouldn’t want to see it. ]

This place brings all manner of people into its walls. Now and again I’ve wondered if the dreams I have of her here might come true someday, if one day the blonde curls disappearing around the corner might lead to something other than an empty street.

[ It says more about Lestat’s experiences wandering this place than he’s ever confessed to Louis, but this moment between them feels safe. He continues with that in mind, his voice dropping almost to a whisper, words seeping through directly from his heart. ]

I know she must be at peace now, and that any reunion between us is romanticised in my mind, and yet I still selfishly wish I could see her again.

[deathoftheauthor]

( She must be at peace now. The sentiment tightens Louis' throat, and he feels a nearly overwhelming tenderness for Lestat, who has never been one for any kind of religious sentimentality as long as Louis had known him. Louis, who fears the thought of endless nothingness nearly as much as the idea of Hell, can hardly bring himself to imagine any peaceful rest for their kind after they perish, but if any among their number ever deserved such compassion from a higher power, surely it must be the innocent child that they brought into this.

Louis' grip on Lestat tightens subtly, worry stirring him to movement; his head tilts to one side, and he looks wonderingly into Lestat's moonlit eyes. )

You've seen her here?

( He asks softly and without judgment, well aware that anything is possible but trying to be reasonable. His first thought isn't of the phantoms and visions that twist their minds now and then in this strange city, but something else: the way Lestat had looked when Louis had found him standing in their burned-out flat, staring into the darkness as if seeing something that wasn't there, someone that hadn't been there in a century. )

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat's eyes search Louis' for the second or two that lingers before he speaks, trying to discern where this sudden look of worry has come from in such a tender moment, and when it's finally revealed, Lestat feels a strange twinge ripple through his heart.

He can recognise it easily enough as his natural reluctance to be weak in front of anyone, the same reluctance that had him brushing Louis off with a hand so many times in their past, too terrified to show him even an inch of vulnerability for the fear that it might crack and splinter and become something he had no hope of ever repairing or coming back from. Now, though, in this place where their relationship has blossomed into something Lestat had never even dared to imagine was possible for them, Lestat pushes through the initial fear, swallowing his inhibitions just enough to meet Louis' gaze firmly enough that it steels his resolve.

Louis has only ever wanted to know him, after all, and isn't this particular pain as much of a part of him now as Louis is? ]

Yes. A trick of this place or of my mind, I don't know. Sometimes it's just the patter of her slippers on the paving stones, sometimes it's the sound of her laugh. Sometimes I see her curls, as I said, disappearing around a corner or whipping past me as I walk, just out of my vision and out of my reach.

[ A small pause, and though Louis is holding him so tight already, Lestat returns the hold even tighter, as if he needs it to get him through his next confession. ]

I dream of her, too. I talk to her sometimes, when I'm out alone or, before you wake in the evening.

[ His brow twitches, frustration or something else flickering in his expression. ]

I know it's foolish.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis shakes his head immediately and emphatically, an ache spreading deep in his chest. )

It isn't foolish.

( He sighs, and leans his weight against Lestat, and brushes his nose against the curve of Lestat's cheek. )

These flawless memories of ours are a gift and a curse. I can recall the sweet sound of her laugh as if she had just left us... and yet I've forgotten my brother's face. It's simpler for mortals in some ways, I think. Time does a kindness to them by softening the edges of things. We don't have the luxury of forgetting. I wouldn't want to, even if I could.

( Another quiet exhale, and he looks from Lestat to the stars overhead, slipping an arm around Lestat's waist as he does. )

I don't... see her, at least not in the way that you describe. But the reflex remains, and I still think that it might be her every time I spot a small head of blonde curls in a crowd.

( There are no little children here. That makes it easier for him. )

[perfectdevil]

Oh, how she'd laugh if she could see us desperately chasing after shadows and ghosts in a crowd like hopeless parents.

[ His laugh is more tender when it comes now, a soft little chuckle pressed against the side of Louis head before he applies a kiss there.

Lestat is comforted somewhat by hearing that he isn't alone in his reflex of thinking she's still here - though she haunts Lestat's mind in a different way to how she lingers in Louis' thoughts, it's good to know she is indeed still there, that she isn't something they can't bear to think about, that she won't be forgotten.

It must be difficult for Louis to talk of her, Lestat thinks, since they were indeed so much closer toward the end than she and Lestat were, but in a way he wonders if it's cathartic for him. Lestat was always so quick to assume nothing was wrong, to let them alone to do as they wished once Claudia was old and wise enough to no longer listen to his instructions. Toward the end, all he'd wanted to do was punish them both for making him so miserable. He hadn't wanted to listen to Louis talk about her then. ]

It's a relief. Talking about her. I don't know if it's wrong, and I don't care, but I don't regret it.

[ I don't regret her goes unsaid. She isn't here to tell him that he has no right to regret it or otherwise, that it's his mistake and her life. But he can't wish it never happened.

Louis is right about their memories being a blessing and a curse. Lestat can only slightly remember the anger he'd held toward his father, or the faces of his older brothers, the smell of his bed and his dogs and the fire. But he can recall with perfect clarity how Louis had looked as a human, and if he focuses intently, he's sure he can feel her little hand in his. ]

I can't apologise for it, for any of it. I won't. But I wish I had been kinder.

[deathoftheauthor]

( It should hurt, Louis thinks to himself, talking about her so freely like this. It should feel like a knife to his ribs, but all he feels is guilt and that bittersweet ache. It's a relief to speak of her, just as Lestat said, like letting out a long-held breath. Like sharing a secret with someone you trust with your whole heart. )

I wish I hadn't been so cold to you. We can forgive each other that, I think.

( Louis accepted his part in their struggle long ago, and though he is excellent at holding a grudge, he finds that he can't hold much against Lestat now that he knows what he knows. He falls silent for a long moment, pensive as he leans against Lestat's side, head tipped toward his. )

I regret how it ended. And yes, it was wrong what we did to her.

( We, Louis says, because it was Lestat who gave her his blood but Louis who brought her to the edge of death, and Louis who sat by and allowed it all to happen, and Louis who loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. )

Wrong, but not a mistake. I can't bear the thought of never knowing her. I'm sure we're both selfish for that, but it's the truth.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat feels every inch of weight in that ‘we’, and he hears without needing to ask nor expand upon it exactly what Louis means by it. Lestat has always assumed the position of guilt Louis was happy to pin upon him for what happened to Claudia – for her continued existence as well as her unhappiness for it – and though Louis was merely speeding up the inevitable when he almost took her life, he was not guiltless in wanting her nevertheless. Lestat is sure this might be the first time they’ve stood on equal footing when it comes to their shared blame.

He lets out a low, quiet exhalation as something like relief floods his body, a tension he didn’t realise he’d been carrying for centuries leaving him like a bird taking flight; like a child being pushed on a swing, momentarily weightless. ]

Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak, whispers the o’er fraught heart and bids it break.

[ He presses another kiss to Louis temple, then closes his eyes to press his forehead into his hair and inhale his absence of a scent. Just the gentle perfume of laundering from his suit, the faint coppery tang of the tears, the clinging smoke from candles. ]

Thank you, Louis.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Macbeth. Of course.

Louis sighs, and he lets them linger a moment like this, peaceful and close and away from the hum of the crowd just inside the warmly-lit building. Eventually, he shifts, pulls back slightly, and turns his eyes to Lestat, who looks exactly the same as he did to awestruck mortal eyes two centuries ago, and yet somehow completely new. It takes Louis a moment to realize, and then his heart softens, expands, and he sees it so clearly: this is the Lestat that Louis had always longed for him to be in those old years, the Lestat who he wished to be his confidante and companion on this dark and endless road. He thinks of an ancient statue buried beneath the sand, waiting for the wave that will finally reveal it for what it had always been.

Louis lifts a hand to Lestat's cheek, head tipped slightly as he looks at him with wonderment and soft curiosity. What would their Claudia have made of this Lestat? Would she have been kinder, more human, if her fathers had been like this from the beginning? Or would she have cursed them both for their sentimentality? )

What are you thanking me for?

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat's mind is so fast to run away to fantasy at times like this; to think of what things might have been, how they could have changed, who they might be had it all turned out a different way. But with Louis' arms around him, the soft breeze of night air against their faces, the slightly subdued sound of merriment at their backs and every night in their future theirs for the taking, to hold one another like this without the barrier of misunderstanding or a lack of trust... Lestat is reluctant to do anything but bask in it, to let it linger, to force it to spiral as long as he can in comfortable silence.

It's only when Louis cups his cheek that his eyes flutter open, and he looks down at his lover who gazes back up at him with such earnest eyes that Lestat is momentarily caught quite off guard by the tender curiosity in his eyes.

He's about to ask what he's thinking of when Louis speaks, and Lestat finds words caught in his throat. ]

For… Well, everything, I suppose.

[ His answer feels like it falls from him dumb, and he purses his lips in the wake of not being quite as eloquent as he'd like to be. ]

For loving me, even though you tell me plenty how you find it hard not to. For giving me another chance. For not holding my mistakes against me, though you have every right to. For not wanting to forget her, even if it hurts.

[ He shakes his head, not at a loss, but clearly finding it hard to describe exactly how much there truly is in him to thank Louis for. ]

For everything.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis' lips curve into a slow and gentle smile, his heart warmed by Lestat's uncharacteristic lack of eloquence. It's so sincere, so utterly without any kind of pretense or artifice, that for a moment Louis can almost feel as if he actually deserves it. It could be enough, Louis thinks, no more words than this, just the sight of Lestat so sweet and almost boyish in the moonlight. But when he finds the words to explain himself, oh...

Louis wills himself not to weep again, but the rapid blinking of his eyes gives the attempt away. His thumb brushes across Lestat's lips, the minute creases like a fingerprint that Louis has come to know by heart and by touch; he's certain that he could identify Lestat by this alone if he were tasked to touch a thousand Cupid's bows to find his lover's lips.

Louis nods his head, his throat tight and voice soft as he answers: )

In that case... thank you, Lestat, for every word you've spoken could have come from my own heart. You've done all of those same things for me, don't you know?

( Perhaps that's why they can forgive each other so easily. Louis shifts in Lestat's embrace, fingers sliding to the back of his neck, toying with the velvet ribbon in his hair, and with a quiet sigh he brings their lips together in a kiss. )

[perfectdevil]

[ Louis truly is an indescribable vision when he smiles, and Lestat can be confidently certain that this kind of smile is his favourite one to see on him. He looks almost unaware of it at first, his expression impossibly unguarded, vulnerable and yet not sparing a single fraction of thought for anything like safety or what anyone might think. As it grows it feels warm, and fully realised it's so beautiful that it's almost hard to look at, like what Lestat remembers of sunlight through thin curtains, the golden hour at the peak of dawn.

His words are sweet, sweeter than Lestat deserves and yet his selfish heart clings to them desperately, wishing beyond anything that he will never be someone who isn't made up of what Louis sees in him. Hopelessly he wishes - prays, even, though there surely isn't any God who will hear him - that whatever lies in store for their future, that he will always have Louis looking up at him like this, that he will always feel as loved as he does right now. ]

...

[ He's moments from saying something stupid, clearly, because it starts with a hesitation.. but that moment of pause is just enough time for Louis to anchor him in to a kiss, and Lestat goes more than willingly.

Louis' lips are soft, but their kiss is insistent and firm; Lestat pushes it a fraction deeper, teasing Louis' lower lip a little before kissing him with a closed mouth again in a dizzying back and forth of affection, until he finally pulls away to reveal a dazed smile on his face that soon pulls to a point as his mouth runs away without input from his mind. ]

I'm sure that this is where, were we impulsive mortals or perhaps characters in some play, I would propose and then whisk you away from the festivities to enjoy taking up your time for myself.

[ One of his fingers toys in the V of Louis' beautiful waistcoat. ]

I have missed you tonight.

[deathoftheauthor]

I've missed you.

( Once again Louis mirrors Lestat's words back at him, his voice still soft and slightly breathless from the kiss, or perhaps simply from Lestat's proximity. There's relief in it, too, because it's still tragically natural for Louis to assume that Lestat is having a grand time without him, and ever moreso at a grand event like this one, with Louis scurrying about with his papers and notes, seeking out brief, aching glimpses of Lestat, who seems entirely in his element. Shining like the sun itself, just as he always does, the blue of a lost summer's day in his eyes.

He's felt vaguely out of place for hours, grateful that he's volunteered to keep busy; he isn't above a pang in his chest when he sees Lestat twirling someone else around the dance floor, or catches his hands eagerly caressing another underneath the mistletoe. He had been a good sport filming Lestat's effusive speech for Ghost, because of course Ghost deserved all of the praise in the world for her efforts, but it didn't escape Louis' melancholy notice that he couldn't even throw Lestat a simple birthday party. 

But all his doubt and discontent vanishes like mist when Lestat speaks those words, foolish and impossible though they may be. His pulse quickens as if his heart is leaping toward Lestat's long, clever fingers. Armand's voice comes back to him: you really are a romantic at heart, aren't you? And oh, yes, he is, because Louis knows that if Lestat were to ask for his hand in some form of marriage right now, his answer would be an immediate and enthusiastic yes. After all, hasn't he already promised himself to Lestat in every other way?

He smiles, soft and warm and so tentatively hopeful, and loops his arms loosely around Lestat's shoulders. )

And what would you do, monsieur, if you and I were vampires instead?

( He toys with Lestat's ponytail, looping a curl around around his finger again and again like cool silk. )

[perfectdevil]

[ Even when Lestat is completely certain that he understands exactly how Louis’ mind works, to the point where he’s sure he an predict with perfect accuracy how their conversations might go, he still somehow manages to surprise him - and isn’t that the most appealing part of Louis? The fact he’s so very much Lestat’s opposite that he can keep him guessing, keep his attention, inspire him and surprise him, drive him mad and render him wordless and thoughtless with just the right combination of words and brushes of contact.

This is one of those very times, where Lestat had assumed Louis would bluster and perhaps even roll his eyes at his lavish romanticism, but with a helpless blush staining his cheeks as he did… This reply shocks him, then, enough that he struggles on formulating a reply for long enough that it’s quite obvious he’s caught off guard.

Mentioning the possibility of a proposal suddenly makes it quite real in his head, and though Lestat has never held any lofty desires to be a husband after having only experienced enough happy couples in his long life to count on one hand… he thinks, now, that he perhaps finally understands the intention behind it. To want to keep one person by your side forever, to have them know in no uncertain terms that you pledge yourself to them and to have them pledge themselves to you in return, to become bound in a ceremony as an unbreakable unit of two souls. It has always sounded so performative before, but in this framing he can see the appeal.

The impulsive part of him wants to ask if Louis would want that, is already deliberating what his reaction would be to such a question… but the part of Lestat that is still, somehow, afraid of rejection and doubts he could survive something like that, doubts that he deserves it and is certain he’d do something to break it before its wings had chance to fly, keeps a hand clamped firmly over that part of his heart. ]

Well, I suppose if we were vampires the point still stands.

[ He glances behind them, at the dwindling party, at the lights and the music, but finds his gaze wandering back to the only thing he wants to look at right now, and he smiles at Louis in a mischievous way, hands winding firm about his waist. ]

I could still whisk you away, you know. Do you think you and your little clipboard are still needed in there?

[deathoftheauthor]

( The point still stands. Louis has only moments to wonder what that means, but it strikes him that Lestat isn't entirely teasing: that the idea occurred to Lestat first, and he isn't laughing about it the way he would if it were something completely ridiculous. The knowledge takes root in his chest somewhere near to his heart for him to think on later, in the quiet hours of the morning, when the two of them are tangled together as sleep softens the edges of Louis' thoughts and Lestat's heartbeat lulls him into peace.

But Louis lets out a brisk, sudden laugh as Lestat's hands settle at his waist, and he slinks obligingly closer. Their chests are nearly touching, hips lasciviously close; the absurd phrase leave room for Jesus springs to mind, and Louis almost laughs again. He sighs, his breath ghosting across Lestat's lips in the cool air, and the sides of their noses slide against each other in a near kiss. )

Oh, but I shouldn't...

( In a tone that absolutely means: I need you to convince me to do it. Tempting the devil to tempt him back. )

They'll need me back at the end of things, I'm sure.

( But the food and drink preparations have wound down, and cleanup won't be for a while still... )

[perfectdevil]

[ As Louis comes close but not close enough, Lestat is reminded of the pull between two magnets desperate to fit together, held back by force but straining to be one. It’s similar to the way they work, after all; he and Louis both trying desperately to be patient with one another given their newfound relationship, not wanting to rush things, wanting to give themselves time as much as the other… but ultimately failing and finding themselves tumbling into further and further familiarity. This entire month spent wrapped up in each other, exploring and discovering, means that now the separation between them feels so much larger than it is when they aren’t pressed up side-by-side. Lestat wonders how he ever managed to stay away for hours on end in the past, when being with Louis is so much better. ]

If I were a vampire, monsieur, I wouldn’t listen to your reasons, would I? It isn’t exactly clambering in your window at night as you sleep, but it’s almost as good.

[ Lestat’s smile is sultry, like a cat waiting for the bird to turn its back. His fingers flutter against Louis’ waist, as if describing exactly how easy it would be to pull him in close and ruin this ridiculous barrier of space between them. ]

But since we are both vampires, well… You already know all my tricks, how easy it is to sway a partner, especially when they’re willing.

[ Lestat is under no doubts that Louis has seen him flitting to and fro tonight, his hand on countless waists, kisses paid against skin, his eyes flashing when he sees something he likes… but he’s equally sure that Louis must know that this very particular sparkle currently dancing in Lestat’s eyes now is reserved only for him. ]

And equally I know just how willing you are.

[ His resistance peters out, and like a whip cracking he draws Louis against him; chest, hips, lips together. He kisses him firmly enough to tell him without words how impatient he’s feeling, how much he wants him, how much he missed him. ]

Come with me, somewhere we can be close, even for a little while. The dancefloor, or below this balcony in the shadows you like so much, I don’t care. I’ll simply go mad if you refuse me – the idea of waiting until tonight is impossible.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Ah, there it is. Louis has always been a passive creature; his willpower is strongest when he can blame someone else for the initial momentum. There isn't a single thing for Louis to feel guilty for tonight, though, and surely slipping away with his beloved for a few kisses (and perhaps a light snack) won't bother anyone.

And if anyone asks Louis where he'd disappeared to afterward... it was Lestat's idea. Everyone knows how difficult he is to resist.

Louis sighs deeply, contentedly, pressing the long line of his body against Lestat's and searching for the familiar drumbeat of his heart beneath those lovely clothes. Two centuries he's known that rhythm; he was always aware of Lestat's presence in their old townhouse, the sounds of his comings and goings even with those silent steps, attuned to his maker's pulse with a sense that seemed deeper than even his preternatural hearing should allow. )

If you'll promise me the last dance of the evening, we can slip away into the shadows now.

( His voice is a whisper against Lestat's lips, as if he can't bear to stop kissing him even to speak. )

[perfectdevil]

It’s yours, my heart.

[ Like a hound given permission to run, Lestat’s expression turns from sultry to excited; he scoops up Louis’ hand in his own and, bemoaning the lack of certain abilities from his home world that would make lowering themselves down from this balcony to the waiting grounds below a simple task, and instead dragging his lover back into the building so they can sensibly descend the stairs and slip out of a side door instead.

Once in the dimly lit exterior of the building, with nothing to keep them company other than the soft breeze and the glow of the moon, Lestat easily crowds Louis against a wall, his arms and hips pinning him in place, his eyes glittering with intention as he gazes down at him. His expression isn’t hungry – not exactly, not yet – but there’s some trace of satisfaction in it, clearly pleased with this turn of events, as if Louis required all that much convincing. ]

You’ll have to keep your head for the both of us, Louis. There’s very little stopping me from keeping you here for the rest of the night. Your responsibilities be damned.

[ A finger curls beneath Louis’ chin, lifting his face to the slight angle he needs to seamlessly press their lips together. When he speaks, he barely moves back, the brush of his lips a perfect mirror of how Louis had been reluctant to let their kiss break earlier. Each word is like the beat of a moth's wing, and his voice is as soft and sweet to match. ]

I like having you under my attention like this.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis melts against Lestat, their two bodies becoming one in the velvet shadows. He wraps himself around Lestat as if he could consume him with his embrace alone, each syllable of speech a soft kiss that makes him shiver. Their chests touch, embroidered vests rasping softly as they brush together, but Louis can feel Lestat's heartbeat beneath the layers of fabric. Oh, God, it's going to be difficult to go back inside. )

And I enjoy having your attention all to myself.

( Louis whispers the words against Lestat's lips, letting the point of a fang tease the bottom swell just lightly enough to give himself plausible deniability and hopefully drive Lestat slightly mad with desire. And if some of Louis' flirtation is spurred on by his own petty little insecurities, well, at least he's making something useful out of the feeling. )

... I'm sure quite a few people are wondering why you don't have your precious Ghost on your arm for the night.

( Louis is one of those people, and he feels grateful and guilty at once that Lestat chose him instead. )

[perfectdevil]

[ Such a beautiful thing Louis is like this, framed against the wall and held in place by Lestat’s own body, lit by the moonlight and looking up at Lestat like he’d like nothing better than for the boundaries between their two souls to crumble so that they could become one being. Or perhaps that’s what Lestat himself wants… it might be Lestat’s romantic mind at work, but he’s sure he can see his own desires reflected back in Louis eyes.

Louis gets his wish, of course; when Lestat feels his flesh teased under the sharp point of Louis’ fang he groans with the effort of resistance for no reason other than wanting to drag their time together out a little longer… And then when he speaks, his mouth falls a little open, and he backs off to study Louis’ expression once more.

There’s no misery there, no hurt or resentful jealousy as he’s seen before… in fact his expression has hardly changed, and Lestat is confused for a moment before he realises that this comment is merely the product of an evening spent wanting after someone constantly in the arms of others. It isn’t targeted, it isn’t even meant to make him feel bad… it’s simply Louis being honest, in the only way Louis can. ]

I don’t think there’s a soul here wondering that, at least not those who have seen the way I look at you.

[ He presses a kiss under Louis’ ear, over the throb of his pulse. Possessive. ]

Does it bother you so much what other people think, my heart?

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis shivers at the kiss beneath his ear, and he tips his head back and to the side so that Lestat can access every inch of his pale throat. He knows that it could be a dangerous thing, encouraging Lestat's possessive tendencies; he knows that Lestat has fought hard against his own nature to be the sort of vampire who doesn't need to tie his fledgling down or cage him like a songbird. And Louis is thankful for that, he is, except the word yours is galloping through his veins with every eager beat of his heart.

Does it bother him? He isn't sure, and he thinks about his answer as well as he can with Lestat's sweet lips against his sensitive neck, golden hair tickling his cheek. )

I'm not troubled by what others think. If only you and I knew we were lovers, that would be enough. 

( He doesn't have the ego to need more. He nuzzles his cheek against Lestat's, smoothing fingers over the velvet ribbon in his hair. )

It's wonderful to see you so content. I'm grateful to her for the light in your eyes. ( He attempts a self-deprecating smile. ) I feel my own efforts are inadequate compared to all of this.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat follows the path of Louis’ throat that opens up beneath his lips as his lover tips his beautiful head to the side, kissing slowly and almost carefully at the pulse running down his sensitive neck, delighting in every shudder and every bristle of Louis’ nerves beneath his attention. He kisses so softly it’s as though he’s whispering a secret to a lover he’s been reunited with after a long time spent apart; his contact gentle but restrained for fear of showing his true hunger. ]

My heart…

[ Lestat murmurs in a way that could seem admonishing if it weren’t for the helplessly tender look in his eyes when he pulls back ever so slightly to study Louis’ face. It’s true enough that there is a sparkle to his expression, but it’s nothing like how his eyes had shone before, on the dance floor or up on that stage; this glow, this glittering light that seems to reflect from deep inside of him rather than any outside force, is reserved only for Louis. ]

Do you really think yourself inadequate? You may not have been inspired to throw a Gala, but I wouldn’t be nearly as light of heart if I didn’t have you here with me, if I didn’t know that I could leave at any moment to find you.

[ Lestat leans back in, but this time he presses his kiss to the corner of Louis’ mouth, and when he speaks he does so against his lips, in a low and quiet voice. ]

There’s no-one I’d rather spend my life with than you. Surely you must know that? It’s unimaginable how often you’ve plagued my thoughts this evening. I wanted to leave you to your own business, I wanted to focus on mine… But God, Louis, all I could think of was this – being close to you again.

[ He presses his head back into his hands, into his touch, willing him to feel his truth through touch alone, wondering what in the world he can do to make Louis know this, to believe him. He’d been talking about marriage earlier, hadn’t he? A wild thought enters his mind, and his eyelids flutter ever so slightly as he looks back at Louis’ face, searching. ]

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis sighs, deep and contented and in love. )

Oh, Lestat...

( He's overcome as always, amazed as always, all his fears and worries smoothed away by Lestat's sweet words. Louis knows from long experience what Lestat sounds like when he's being insincere or toying with someone or simply playing the suave romantic, and it's all the more precious that Louis can tell that he means it. But Lestat has always been more honest than Louis gave him credit for during their long years together — it was only that Louis grew so used to examining every statement for hidden meanings, and invented them where there were none to be found. It's been months now, the better part of a year since they found each other again; Louis has lost his instinct to sift through every sentence for the insults that he believes he deserves, but the sweetness, the tenderness, that hasn't lost its novelty yet.

A dreamy smile plays at the corner of Louis' lips as Lestat presses back into his hands, and he jostles the bow in his hair; he attempts to right it, but gives up and takes the ribbon out, threading it between his fingers and petting Lestat's hair as it falls free. He'll fix it later. He pulls him close for another long and lingering kiss, and only parts enough to speak, their lips still brushing as he does. )

I know that. I don't understand it, but I know it. You've more than proven your devotion; I have no reason to doubt that your heart truly belongs to me. 

( He lets out a soft breath, almost as if he's laughing at himself a little. )

You do so much for me, Lestat. More than I could ever ask for... more than I even want, sometimes, though I wouldn't change that part of your nature or any other. It's only that I want to give you that same happiness in return. My company doesn't feel like enough.

( Though, he believes he could be content with nothing but Lestat's companionship, and not a single other frivolous luxury. )

[perfectdevil]

[ As the ribbon slides from his hair, Lestat feels almost as if with the movement Louis is removing the persona of the handsome and glittering man who flourishes under the attention of any and all eyes that turn toward him at the Gala, and revealing instead the tenderhearted man who lies beneath, who is always a certain few words away from weeping, who would sooner let the place burn down than let Louis think for even a moment that his position at Lestat’s side is not enough.

He can’t look at Louis from this proximity, but he can feel the smile pressed against his mouth and he can feel the soft exhalation of his laugh. He can feel that this doesn’t weigh Louis down, that it isn’t a highlight of his shortcomings or his failure to make Louis happy… it’s simply the way Louis feels, and the way he probably always will feel. Lestat’s hands hold Louis’ waist a little tighter, curious fingers pressing intently against the well made seams of his waistcoat as if they’d like nothing more than to slit the seams and dive inside. ]

You say such things as if you don’t already make me happy.

[ He kisses him then, and it's a far cry from the soft touches they’ve shared so far. Instead, it’s hard and insistent, as though his whispers of reunion from earlier have grown into a tumult of desperate relief at having the one he loves close again, describing aptly without words exactly how he might crumble were Louis to ever not be within arms reach again. ]

I chose you, didn’t I? [ He asks, once he’s taken his fill of kissing Louis deep enough to steal the air from his lungs. ] I picked you from a crowd of mortals, I made you mine. I told you, all those years ago, that I could have picked anyone, but I picked you.

[ Back then it had been a cruel thing he’d flung at Louis, the truth but without the context that spoke of his soft heart, spat with enough acid to sound like a threat. Lestat’s hands move to the front of Louis’ torso, fingers sliding under the fabric of his clothes, between the layers to lay a palm against his stomach. His touch is intent, caressing, constant. ]

You know how I am when I want something, don’t you? I am relentless, I am unstoppable. I wanted you, Louis, and now I have you, but I have never wanted anything the way I want you. No-one makes me as foolish as you do. No-one makes me feel the way you do. I feel helpless around you. The idea of you being anywhere other than at my side terrifies me.

[ His mouth falls, to kiss his throat again, so that when his words come they’re pressed against the sensitive skin there. ]

When you returned to me, when you fell into my arms the way I’d always wanted you to… I’d never felt happiness like it.

You are more than I deserve, but I’m much too selfish to let you go.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis exhales in a rush, and a soft groan of surprise escapes him as the familiar cool touch of Lestat's fingers meets the sensitive skin of his stomach. It's powerfully erotic, and he feels a stir of hunger for more than just blood beginning in his core. Oh, he shouldn't get caught up in this, shouldn't want to escape his responsibilities to let Lestat have the whole of him in their bed, and show Lestat just how much he needs him in return.

But he can't help the wanting, not when the memory of those early years feels so close and the veil of time so gossamer-thin that he can almost hear the sound of carriage wheels on cobblestone. It aches — sweetly, but an ache nevertheless — to think of those long decades together but so seldom close enough to touch, and Lestat wanting him, longing for him, the entire time. What if Louis had fallen into his arms then? )

Oh, your words are poetry...

( Louis swallows, his throat moving beneath Lestat's lips. Fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging, and Louis' chin tips downward to kiss the crown of Lestat's head, murmuring against him. )

And I can hardly find the breath to speak when you touch me like this. You know I feel the same way, don't you? I was alone for all those years by choice. Even at my most bitter and resentful, you were the only one I dreamed of. You were the one whose voice I longed to hear. A memory of the sun amidst a world of darkness and candlelight.

( He sighs softly. )

Only I've never missed the sun the way that I missed you.