Chapter Text
Tulane University, New Orleans, May, 2013.
Louis drove his well-loved Honda up to the front entrance of Tulane, already regretting his decision. His friend Antoinette had recently asked if her boyfriend could drive to New York City with him, and Louis, after too much sangria, had agreed. Now, he was about to be stuck in a car with a complete stranger for almost 20 hours.
Louis spotted Antoinette, completely oblivious to everything around her, making out with said boyfriend. He was pretty tall, with long blonde hair he had tied into a low bun. He seemed to be cosplaying as a rockstar from the 90’s, or perhaps, that was his normal style- an all black leather outfit with black nails to match. Louis looked down at his button up shirt and slacks, suddenly feeling self-conscious. This guy was probably going to think that Louis was a huge dork, dressed like he was going to church.
The two continued to aggressively make out as Louis pulled up right next to them, rolled down his window and cleared his throat. That did not deter them at all, so Louis pressed down on his horn.
“Oops, sorry! Hand slipped!” Louis lied.
Antoinette at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Her boyfriend flexed the muscles of his square jawline and narrowed his blue eyes at Louis.
“Louis! Hi! Sorry about that,” Antoinette started. “Louis, this is my boyfriend, Lestat. Lestat, this is my friend Louis– remember I told you, we met in Hospitality Management.”
Lestat. What kind of name was that? It sounded like he made it up on the spot.
“Hello Louis,” Lestat said. His voice was deep and a little too seductive. It sounded like he had an accent as well.
“Hello,” Louis responded. “You want to drive the first shift?”
“No,” Lestat said quickly, putting up his hands. “You’re there already.”
Lestat picked up his two suitcases as Louis opened the trunk from the inside for him. Lestat loaded his luggage and turned back around to Antoinette, who looked close to tears.
“I miss you already,” Lestat told her, not sounding very convincing.
Antoinette launched herself at Lestat, throwing her arms around him once more, kissing him fiercely. He put down his guitar to catch her, the two making out once more. Louis watched them from the rearview mirror. While Lestat’s true feelings for Antoinette were unknown to Louis, he still seemed quite determined to continue to French-kissing her in broad daylight.
French! That was the accent. Lestat was French.
Louis realized he had been watching the pair kiss for far too long, and he averted his eyes to not look creepy.
The two finally broke free.
“I love you,” Antoinette said.
Lestat moved to get into the front seat next to Louis, leaning out the window to look at Antoinette. “Yes, love you too,” he responded, again, not very convincingly.
“Call me when you get there!” Antoinette requested.
“I’ll text you on the road, ma cocotte,” Lestat said, waving. Ma cocotte. Quite literally, my casserole. Louis doubted that Antoinette knew what that meant. She did not seem the type to like that kind of nickname, even as a term of endearment.
Louis pulled out of the university’s gates and made his way onto the highway as Lestat pulled out a bag of pistachios. He held it out to Louis in an offering.
“No thanks, I try not to eat in the car,” Louis explained, hoping Lestat got the point. He did not.
“So you were in Freeman with Toni, then?” Lestat asked, picking up a pistachio and peeling it, getting remnants everywhere. Louis side-eyed him and Lestat rolled down the window to throw the shells outside.
“Toni? Is that Antoinette’s nickname? I’ve never heard her say that.” Louis responded.
“Oh, no. She hates it. I’m the only one that gets to call her that,” Lestat explained, as if that made him sound virtuous somehow.
“Same for cocotte, I’m assuming,” Louis supplied. Lestat broke out into a grin.
"Louis, you speak French?” he asked, voice filled with wonder.
“Oui un peu,” Louis said.
Lestat chuckled. “Oh, that’s delicious. I had no idea Antoinette had such interesting friends. Everyone she has introduced me to has been just so dull.”
Louis wondered if Lestat liked Antoinette at all.
“Charming,” Louis said, commenting on the current situation as a whole. “And yes, to answer your first question, Antoinette and I were both in Freeman.”
“So you want to go into hospitality then?” Lestat continued, still peeling pistachios in Louis’ clean car.
“My degree was Marketing for Hospitality and Tourism, yes,” Louis answered.
“Hm, perhaps I’m not understanding because of a language barrier? What does that entail? Why are you going to New York?” Lestat inquired.
“I got a job as the Assistant to the Marketing Manager at the Waldorf Astoria,” Louis explained. It was the one thing he would allow himself to brag about. He had worked his ass off this past year trying to get the job.
Lestat whistled. “Wow Louis, that’s quite the gig. Are you worried that it might be too much pressure?”
Louis gripped the steering wheel. No, he had not been worried about that until this moment. Who the fuck was Lestat to ask a question like that?
“I’m up for the challenge,” Louis said, quickly directing the conversation elsewhere. “What about you? Antoinette said you studied music?”
“Oh yes, I’m going to New York to become a rockstar.”
Louis almost snorted. So the outfit was cosplay. Part of him had to admire Lestat for his big dreams.
“A rockstar? Wow. That’s... cool,” Louis stated, hoping he sounded interested.
“Do you like music, Louis?” Lestat implored, his voice sounding dream-like. Louis wished Lestat would stop saying his name like that over and over, like he had to say his name out loud or he would forget it. Louis.
“Well yes,” Louis said, slightly annoyed. “Everyone likes music, don’t they?”
“Ah, but I love music, Louis. I breathe music. I would die without it,” Lestat explained. “Is it the same for you?”
“I guess not,” Louis replied, lamely. “But that doesn’t make you deep or anything.”
Lestat laughed out loud as if Louis had just told him the funniest joke known to man.
“So, tell me the story of your life,” Lestat asked, leaning back in his seat.
Now it was Louis’ turn to laugh. “The story of my life? There’s not much there yet, I haven’t done anything.”
Louis inwardly cursed at himself. I haven’t done anything? That made him sound so incredibly lame.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Lestat said, voice reassuring. “Is that why you’re working in hotels, then? Would you like to travel? Do some things?”
“I would love to travel,” Louis admitted earnestly. “I’m not sure how much an assistant gets to travel, but, maybe someday.”
“Where would you like to go?” Lestat questioned.
“Well, Paris was always a dream.” Why was Louis telling Lestat all this? He barely knew the man.
“Oh, Paris! Louis you should have said! You can always come stay with me,” Lestat exclaimed, like it was the easiest solution in the world.
“You have a place there?” Louis asked.
“Oui, bien sûr,” Lestat answered. “Or, rather, my parents do. For now, at least. I’m pretty sure they’re going to get divorced soon.”
Lestat admitted this like he was reading the weather report to Louis.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Louis responded.
“Don’t be. They should have divorced years ago. I’m desperate for it to happen. My father’s verbally abusive and my mother hates him,” Lestat explained.
Okay, so Lestat was someone who was unafraid to be completely open with strangers.
“Not sure I’ve ever heard someone hope for their parents’ divorce before,” Louis mused.
“What, are your parents happy or something?” Lestat laughed.
“They were. I think they were. My dad died when I was younger. My mom never remarried,” Louis said.
“Well, now I’m sorry,” Lestat replied.
“Don’t be, it’s been ten years,” Louis dismissed.
There was a pregnant pause between them. Lestat finally put his pistachios back in his bag, sparing Louis’ car.
“I don’t ever want to get married,” Lestat said suddenly. Louis supposed that was not incredibly shocking after the revelation about his parents.
“Really? Never?” Louis could not help but ask.
“No, not for me. I don't think I really believe in it. What about you?’ Lestat turned to him.
Louis was afraid to answer. The truth was that Louis could not wait to get married. He had had his wedding planned out since he was a kid. The Derbès Mansion, right there in New Orleans. Louis’ art deco decorations and emerald green suit always stayed the same, but the bride had changed into a groom over the years. A groom that, at the current moment, greatly resembled Idris Elba in Luther. A man could dream.
Of course, that was all it was, a dream. Louisiana still had not legalized same-sex marriage.
And there Lestat sat, telling Louis he did not believe in marriage at all. Would he make fun of Louis for being a hopeless romantic?
“Um, yeah. I think I want to get married one day,” Louis supplied. “I have to meet the right person first, though.” Louis laughed to prove to Lestat that he was completely nonchalant about the whole situation.
Lestat looked at Louis with a strange expression.
“Good for you, Louis.”
Lestat at least sounded like he meant it.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
They had been arguing for the past hour about Jo, Laurie and Amy in Little Women, and Louis was ready to drop Lestat off on the side of the highway.
“Laurie and Amy are perfect for each other! – Oh there’s a diner, off that exit coming up, right over there,” Lestat said all in one breath.
Louis merged to get off the exit. “Laurie only loved one woman his whole life and that was Jo! Amy, quite frankly, deserved better. It was clear that Laurie settled for Amy. Choosing the other sister when he couldn’t have Jo.”
“What is clear is that Jo never liked Laurie in that way, because she was a lesbian, so he moved on,” Lestat responded.
Louis could not believe they agreed on something.
“Well, I won’t argue with that,” Louis concurred. “Jo was definitely written as queer. Professor Bhaer really was just a sad little deus ex machina.”
Lestat smiled at Louis. “Glad we can see eye to eye. But, still, you’re wrong about Laurie and Amy,” Lestat finished as Louis pulled into the parking lot of the diner.
"But, their relationship is just not romantic at all,” Louis continued as the two got out of the car and began walking up to the restaurant.
“Because marriage at that time was so romantic?” Lestat mocked. “I’m sure they lived happily ever after with that good Laurence fortune. Do not worry about them, Louis.”
There it was again. Louis. Each time Lestat said his name, Louis wanted to scream.
“Well, you know their sex life sucked,” Louis responded as they walked into the diner, the hostess taking them to an open booth.
“Why would you say that?” Lestat laughed, taking his long hair out of its bun and letting it fall to his shoulders.
Why would Louis say that? He felt his cheeks burn.
“I mean, a loveless marriage? Laurie thinking about Jo the whole time?”
Lestat broke out into a devious grin. Louis felt his heart begin to race.
“Tell me, Louis, do you think you have to be in love to have good sex?”
Now Lestat was really mocking him. Louis wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He could laugh it off as a joke or stick his ground. Louis opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
“Ah, I get it,” Lestat said, sitting back. “You’ve never had good sex.”
Louis felt embarrassed and violent all at once. He had had good sex. At least once or twice. It was not like he could really complain as a man, anyway. Louis always came, no matter what. What was Lestat doing in bed that was so spectacular? Louis found himself sitting there picturing Lestat having sex, and immediately told his brain to think about wet socks instead. What was happening?
“I have had good sex!” Louis replied, much louder than anticipated as the song on the jukebox came to an end. The patrons at the tables around them turned to look at Louis. Excellent.
“No you haven’t,” Lestat dismissed easily.
“Yes I have. Great sex, even!”
“No you haven’t.”
“Yes. I have.”
“Hey there! What can I get for you?” The waitress came up to them, dropping glasses of water in front of them, breaking Louis from his own horrible thoughts. Louis had not even looked at the menu, yet. Luckily he knew exactly what he wanted.
“Could I get a Coke, and a number four, please,” Lestat asked, while having the audacity to wink at the waitress, who giggled.
Louis rolled his eyes as she turned towards him. “And for you?”
“I would like the house salad with balsamic on the side, please. And the bananas foster. But I don’t want the ice cream on the top, I would like it on the side. And I would like strawberry ice cream instead of vanilla, if you have it. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only if it’s real. If it’s out of a can, then nothing,” Louis rambled.
“Not even the bananas foster?” the waitress asked, annoyed.
“No, then just the bananas foster, but without pecans. Thank you!” Louis finished as the waitress walked away.
Louis looked back at Lestat who was staring at him slack-jawed.
“What?” Louis said self-consciously. He knew his restaurant orders were always a bit detailed, but Louis liked what he liked. He did not see the problem in being thorough in what he was asking for.
“Nothing, nothing,” Lestat answered, holding his hands up in surrender. “So, with whom did you have this great sex?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to the subject Louis wanted to avoid.
Louis had to think about this answer. There had only been two men he had actually slept with. One had been a frat guy in Louis’ sophomore year. Every one of Louis’ friends had lost their virginity and he thought it was time to do the same. So, he went to a party he did not even want to go to, found a drunk frat member and they went upstairs to one of the beds where Louis allowed the man to fuck him with not nearly enough lube. It had not been enjoyable.
The other person had been Louis’ classmate, Tom Anderson. Tom was, quite frankly, a huge dick, but he had been weirdly obsessed with Louis. He had asked Louis to tutor him for a semester and two weeks later, they were secretly dating. “Secretly” being the operative word. Tom had not come out to anyone, and had no plans to do so... ever. Louis had been so excited to have a boyfriend that he had been unable to realize just how ashamed of him Tom actually was. Their break up had been nasty, but Louis had considered parts of their relationship somewhat pleasant.
“Tom Anderson,” Louis admitted. “But don’t repeat that. Please.”
Lestat threw his head back and laughed. He really was so annoying when he did that. “Tom Anderson? Didn’t he get arrested for public urination?”
Louis was sure he audibly gulped. That was true. Tom had gotten arrested for that.
“No way in hell you had good sex with him, Louis,” Lestat stated.
Once their food came, Louis decided to just let Lestat talk at him rather than giving him more ammunition.
Louis was dividing up the check, figuring out his 30 percent tip. Louis always prided himself on his tipping– he did plan to work in hospitality, after all. When he finished, he looked up to see Lestat staring at him. Louis put his share of the bill on the tray and passed it to Lestat.
“What?” Louis asked.
“You’re very attractive,” Lestat said, bluntly.
Louis was taken aback. No one had ever told him that before, even Tom, and here was Antoinette’s boyfriend announcing it like he could not believe that Louis looked the way he did.
“Thank you?” Louis responded.
“Antoinette never mentioned how attractive you are. Weird,” Lestat mused.
“Well, maybe she doesn’t think I’m attractive,” Louis suggested.
“Oh, it’s not a matter of opinion, Louis. You’re undeniably a very attractive person,” Lestat finished, throwing two 20 dollar bills on the tray without looking at the check and standing up to walk out, leaving an almost 100 percent tip for his half. The gesture made Louis livid for some reason.
Louis stood up next to Lestat. “Are you serious right now? You’re dating my friend.”
Louis walked out of the diner quickly.
“So?” Lestat asked.
“So! You’re hitting on me!” Louis shouted once they were outside.
“No I’m not!” Lestat responded.
In a frustrating turn of events, they were now shouting at each other and Louis had misread the situation. But why else would Lestat have said that?
“Alright fine, let’s just forget you said anything,” Louis said, getting into the passenger seat to allow Lestat to drive.
“Okay! I was just trying to pay you a compliment, but I’ll forget it,” Lestat answered, turning the car on and pulling out of the parking lot. Louis could already tell Lestat had a lead foot. He gripped his seat for safety.
When they were back on the highway, Lestat turned to him again. “Motel, next exit. Should we get a room, fuck, and forget I said anything?” he teased.
“Just drive,” Louis responded.
Louis pulled out his printed out directions as they passed another exit, still 13 hours left in this trip.
“You still use Mapquest? You know our phones do that now, right? Works pretty well,” Lestat said.
Louis ignored him. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Oh, Louis, I fear I’ve ruined our friendship,” Lestat announced. Friendship? This guy was ridiculous.
Louis sat up in his seat, determined to simply end this conversation. “You haven’t ruined anything,” he assured Lestat.
“No, no,” Lestat protested. “We can never be friends now that I’ve made it clear I would sleep with you if given the chance.”
Louis was sure he was having an aneurysm. What was Lestat talking about? He had just said he found Louis to be an attractive person, now he was admitting that he wanted to have sex with him? Was Lestat actually gay and just pretending with Antoinette? Was he bisexual?
Louis was unsure how they got to this point.
“That’s not what you said,” Louis explained. “You said I was attractive. That’s fine. Surprising, but fine.”
“Yes, but now I’m saying I would fuck you. I’ve made it weird. We will never be friends.”
“Don’t be so vulgar,” Louis admonished. “We can still be friends.”
Why was Louis fighting this so much? He did not actually want to be friends with Lestat.
“Louis, two people cannot be friends if they find each other attractive–”
“Never said I found you attractive,” Louis protested.
“–because the sex part will always get in the way. The ’will they, won’t they’ of it all,” Lestat finished.
Louis scrunched up his face in disgust. “That is not true. I have many friends I find attractive.”
“No you don’t” Lestat started once more.
“Yes I do!” Louis responded. “In fact, I would argue that I find all my friends attractive. And I haven’t had sex with any of them.” Louis refused to admit out loud that he did not have any attractive, gay, male friends with whom he could potentially have sex, if given the opportunity.
“You don't actually find them attractive, then,” Lestat replied absolutely.
“You know, you really seem to have a lot of ideas about me and how I operate,” Louis huffed. “So what? You think all your friends are ugly or something?”
“No, I’ve just slept with all my friends that I have been attracted to,” Lestat clarified. "Effectively ending said friendships.” Louis was almost rendered speechless. He guessed it was true what they said about French men.
“Well, fine then. Whatever you say. Guess we won’t be friends!” Louis grunted.
Lestat glanced quickly at Louis again as he continued to speed down the highway.
“Guess not,” Lestat agreed.
“It’s too bad,” Louis said sarcastically, after a minute of silence. “You were the only person I knew in New York.”