Louis woke Saturday and the first thing he did was shower. He and Quentin were going for a walk on the beach and he'd been looking forward to it since the moment he was asked. He dressed in black casual slacks and a light blue button up shirt. The jacket was left behind.
He grabbed his phone and texted Quentin. Hi. I'm ready whenever you are. After sending the text he drank. At least he would be warm for a little while. It wasn't long before a knock came on the door. Louis smiled when he came face to face with Quentin. "Hi." He stepped out and made sure the door was locked before they left The Station. "How are you? How was your day?"
"Hi." It came out high and a little strangled as Quentin took in his date with a single sweep that lingered a little on his shoulders and chest. His eyes snapped back to Louis's face, a slightly guilty flush making his cheeks warm. Even if he'd worn his nicest pair of khaki chinos and a dark gray polo shirt with a nerdy emblem on the breast pocket. "I'm, uh, I'm good. Finished up a book, took a nap so I could stay up way past my bedtime."
He took Louis's hand. It was warmer than before, which told Q that he'd already eaten. He brutally squashed the slight disappointment, because Louis was only doing what he needed to survive, and that had nothing really to do with Quentin himself. It was utterly selfish to think otherwise. "What about you? I know you were sleeping most of it, but what about before then? Or after you woke up?"
“You smell good.” Louis grinned then suddenly laughed. “I mean your cologne and I detect shampoo perhaps as well, but the cologne is a stronger scent.” One thing he definitely didn’t want was for Quentin to think he was referring to his blood. He gave his hand a squeeze as they continued on their way.
“I had a very interesting one-sided conversation with Elizabeth about how I should add some decor, personal touches to my apartment. She had no suggestions for me unfortunately. Maybe you have some ideas? I’ve always lived in places that were already furnished for obvious reasons.” At least they were to him. “I went for a walk to a park. Then I tried to make a list of things to get for my apartment. I didn’t get very far with it.”
Quentin flushed, but didn't reach for the back of his neck like he normally would have. Try as he might, compliments were still hard for him to take. "Thanks," he said instead, "it's just something I found at the drugstore. You look— You look really hot. I mean, great. And hot. Like, if this is your normal outside-the-apartment look, I may not survive."
He chuckled at the idea of Louis talking to his spider plant. It was an adorable mental picture. "Well, you have the rare benefit of living through a couple of centuries' worth of interior design. Do you have a favorite period? You could always go the eclectic route, mix and match from different eras? I'm pretty sure my room is essentially college chic, so I might not be the one to go to for decorative advice, unless you don't mind worshiping at the altar of IKEA."
Louis chuckled and ducked his head. He wasn’t used to compliments either. “Thank you. You look nice, too. I wasn’t sure what to wear to be honest. I don’t have a big selection yet. I tried to go for more casual.” It seemed he’d hit the mark. They reached the beach and he stopped, taking a moment to look out at the water, listen and use all his senses to take it in. “We should take off our shoes,” he suggested. He didn’t wait for Quentin before he did just that, removing socks and shoes and sitting them on the sand. He’d pick them up before they left.
“I do have that, but I’ve lived in the past long enough. I think I’d like more modern decor with the exception of one item. I want a comfy antique chair to sit by one of those fake fireplace things.” He had no idea what they were called. “I do miss having a fireplace.” He glanced over at Quentin. “What about the rest of your apartment, what does it look like?”
"Bold move, leaving our shoes here." Q admired Louis's faith in humanity and decided to trust in it too. They'd seemed to reach the beach in no time whatsoever, but he didn't have a problem with that, not with his own bare feet sinking shallowly into the cool sand. While he couldn't make out much but the light reflecting off the waves and hear the low rumble of the surf, he could see the look of peace on his date's face and feel the way his own heart fluttered in his chest. "Beautiful."
He didn't mean the beach.
"Yeah"—Quentin cleared his throat and looked away—"I can understand that. Then honestly? IKEA is the way to go. It's modern design, but economical. We could probably find an antique chair you're looking for in an antique store or an estate sale, if you don't mind it being one of those long term search things. Did you get to talk to Angie about the whole job thing? Speaking of spending money."
“Isn’t it?” A human could never see as he did nor would he ever see as they did again. He took Quentin’s hand as they walked. “I know you understand. I can feel it.” Someday he would know Quentin’s full story, but for now he was content to learn bits and pieces as they got to know one another better and better. “I’m not looking to replace everything. I want some things that are more me, does that make sense? Some art pieces for the walls. A nice comfortable throw for the couch and some pillows. I don’t mind a long term search. I’ve got time.” He laughed then gave the other a bump with his hip.
“Are you avoiding my question about your apartment? Don’t tell me, you’ve got it decorated in an old Victorian style,” he teased. “I haven’t talked to Ms. Smith yet. I’ve been a bit preoccupied this week, but I will. You can’t buy anything without money.”
They walked close to the water's edge and Louis looked up at the moon in the sky. “Do you believe what they say about the moon affecting people? A full moon making people more ‘crazy’ and all that? I don’t. I think it has the opposite effect.” He moved back some then sat down on the sand. “Maybe next time we’ll remember a blanket,” he grinned, reaching to pull Quentin down beside him.
"I'm not avoiding!" Q laughed, and hip checked Louis right back. "It's just… not mine. Or not mine alone. I'm rooming with my best friend Julia, and she was there for a long time before I moved in. All the common areas were already decorated, so it's really only my room, and I've already filled it with books and bookcases. I've been a little tempted to find some framed prints or fan art on the wall, but I've also been really picky. Anyway, I haven't been there very long. Just a couple of months now."
If he was honest with himself, Quentin had never really thought about decorating Eliot's space either. His living spaces had literally only ever been: his room at home; his room in undergrad; his room(s) at Brakebills; a preexisting cottage; Marina's penthouse; the room in Eliot's apartment; then Eliot's room. And now his room in Julia's apartment.
It was the kind of realization that made Quentin groan and draw a hand down his face. "Oh, god, I've never had a grown-up place of my own. I've also never been diagnosed with Peter Pan syndrome, but maybe I can add it to the list."
He didn't resist getting tugged down, but his foot slipped out from under him on the way down. The only way to avoid landing badly on his ass was to twist and catch himself with an arm on the other side of his date. Honestly, it was freaking miracle that he didn't smash their heads together. As it was, they were face to face with Quentin smiling shyly down at Louis. "Um, sorry. About… me. So you think the moon gives people clarity?"
“How old are you?” Louis couldn't recall asking or being told. “Maybe it’s time to get your own place. It’s an exhilarating feeling,” he smiled. “You have pride in a space that’s your own. Plus you can decorate it however you choose and do whatever you please there. Well, within reason,” he chuckled.
The sudden flailing and Quentin falling practically on him sent Louis sprawling onto his back looking up into the others face. He laughed out loud and once he started he couldn’t stop. “I’m not sure if that was on purpose or comedic gold. Either way it’s a bit funny.” And nerve wracking having the other so close. He sat up pulling Quentin with him. “There we are. It’s a good thing there were no cameras around,” he teased.
Once more he reached for Quentin’s hand. “Clarity for some. I mean, I think the moon has a calming effect. The soft silver light spilling down over everything. Think about how many poems, sonnets and stories have been written of its beauty. There are those who worship the moon and if I had to worship something it would be the moon.” He didn’t believe in any God or Gods or other deities. But nature, the moon? Those were things that had stood the test of time and held so much beauty. “Have you ever heard of moon water?”
"I'll be 28 in about a month." Like it didn't make his admission about his historical living arrangements that much worse. Quentin shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I'd like to eventually. Hell, I'd like to now, but I think space is kind of the issue at a place like The Station, insomuch as it's finite and you just never know who might get pulled here and how many of us there could be at any time." He made a face at himself. "Okay, so it turns out some times I'm a buzzkill pragmatist. But not often. I get your point, though, and I'd totally do it if it was an option. I don't mind living with Julia, though, and helping out with her baby. It… It reminds me of spending time with my own son."
He was glad of the assist when Louis deposited him safely at his side, even though he could have drunk in the other's laugh for the rest of the night and not been the least bit sad about it. "Honestly, don't be surprised if some kind of beach-trained security camera picked it up, because that's just the story of my life."
The more Louis spoke, the more entranced Quentin became. He turned his hand so he could thread their fingers together. "Were you a patron of the arts through the years? Because you sound like you were." He was being completely sincere, not a trace of teasing in his smile or the way he was watching the other man. "I remember coming across a mention of a sect of magicians on my world who worshiped the moon. They called themselves Lunatics. I know, I know, completely unoriginal and a little unflattering, but that's their name for their brand of pseudo-religion. I'm not familiar with moon water, though. What is it?"
"A month? When is your birthday?" That wouldn't give him much time to find a gift. "If it was an option? May I be honest? You don't seem to want a place of your own. And that's fair, but not correct to say it isn't an option. When I arrived I was told there's another apartment building, Stark Towers I believe, but that The Station was where the majority of people lived, so I said put me there." He shrugged a little. While he couldn't completely understand not wanting one's own place he wasn't judging or trying to be harsh. The mention of his son had a wave of sadness wash over Louis. "Is your son still alive in the other time or world? If that's too personal or too much you don't have to answer."
"Not really. I did donate to various buildings when funding was needed. I traveled around a lot. I couldn't stay in one place for too long. People become suspicious and were much more superstitious back then. There was one young man who I gave an anonymous donation to once. He played piano and he was amazing. I don't know what became of him." He became lost in memories for a few moments.
"The Lunatics?" He chuckled. "Not original at all. Moon water is setting water out during a full moon to charge. Usually you put it in something like a Mason jar. It is believed the water will be charged with lunar energy, which can then be used to cleanse negative emotions or aid in spiritual transformation and intentions as well as positive energy. If you have intentions you write them down and place them under the jars. You can also use the water to clean your home, water plants and you can drink it as it or put it in tea, coffee or any drink. I've made it before. I want to make some here to water Elizabeth and drink, and to set some intentions. Would you like to make some with me? It's okay if it's not your thing."
"July 20th. Makes me a Cancer—which is not something I typically lead with. Mostly because I've heard all the jokes before. Or enough of them." Q brushed the sand from his free hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Whatever smile he'd had on his face froze and faded away. "I've never heard of this alternate source of space, but it's possible I missed something somewhere. Guess we can add co-dependency to the long list of issues I have." He laughed, but it was hollow. "Or chalk it all up to an epic case of white privilege, which is far more likely."
For a moment, Quentin merely looked out at the ocean. From one hard observation to an even harder question. "I don't really know. If he is or not. Or if he ever existed. He's kind of a paradox, the result of Eliot and I winding up in the past in another world and living fifty-plus years, having a family, but then it didn't actually happen because Margo stopped us from going through the magical clock before it pulled us there and then. One of these days, I'll tell you all about the mosaic, but maybe not today. I already had grandkids when Eliot died, and that would have been around the 1940s in the real world time. That doesn't really mean a whole lot, though, since time here and time there rarely matched up. Still, as much as I like to think about Teddy playing with my great-grandchildren, I doubt he's still out there. Or if the line of Coldwater-W—of Coldwater ended with me."
He blinked out of his reverie and glanced over at Louis, listening as he described what sounded very much like the kind of ritual he might find in his brand of magic. Frankly, it sounded charming, no pun intended. "I wouldn't know where to start on making intentions for myself. What are a few of yours, unless it's like birthday candle wishes, where you can't say them out loud or they won't come true?"
“That’s not far away at all. Do you have any big plans?” Louis reached for both of Quentin’s hands and held them between his own. “I’m sorry if I came off judgemental or mean. That wasn’t my intention. I know it might sound crazy, but I already feel this ease and comfort in talking to you. However, I think what I said should have probably come from someone who knows you better, a lot better than I do.” The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Quentin. “As for your son, all that matters is what you think, what you believe. You ‘lived’ it. You and Eliot.” He really wanted to ask who this Eliot was, but held back.
“As far as I know the intentions aren’t private and they don’t not come true if you speak them out loud. Surely, you have a few intentions you’d like to see happen in your life.” Everyone did. “As for mine, the intention of a good, happy and peaceful life here, a happy, healthy and…caring relationship for us and forgiveness for Lestat. Those are the big ones at any rate. Would you want to make some moon water with me on the next full moon?”
The last he'd talked about his birthday was with Eliot, when he'd been told he wasn't allowed to ask for books. It couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks ago, but it felt like ages. "No, no big plans. I'm not a big partier or anything like that, so maybe I'll just invite some friends out for bowling or one of those video game bars." Quentin couldn't help but laugh. "The last time I bowled, I was in Purgatory. Uh, the Underworld. My world is weird, especially when I'm trying to explain it to other people. But consider this your tacit invitation to whatever I wind up doing. It might not be the day of, anyway, since I think it's a weekday this year. So maybe the weekend before or after. We'll see."
He smiled down at Louis's hands over his, and while it was a little sad, it was no less true. "Don't worry about it. It's probably the kick in the pants I need anyway, but we'll see. I don't really want to leave Julia on her own, even though she'd kick my ass and point out she was more than able to take care of her baby by herself." Q drew in a slightly shaking breath and pushed his hair back. "I have to believe he lived a long and beautiful life. Not only for my sake, but Eliot's too. He loved Teddy just as much as I did. Loves him. Have you met him yet? Eliot? We, uh, we lived together before I moved in with Julia."
And there was the awkward beat filled with everything Q couldn't say about his fraught relationship with one Eliot Waugh.
"Those are some really nice intentions to have." He leaned into his date's shoulder with a quiet sigh. "For me? I'm not really sure. Health. Happiness. More books." Q laughed. "Lots of quality time with you. Finding a way to repair things with—people. But, yeah, I'd love to help you collect moon water."
"That sounds like a lot of fun. I've never been bowling or played video games," he grinned. There were a lot of things he'd never done in his solitary living. "Thank you for the invite, but I can't come. Your celebration will be held during the day or early evening as it should be." Louis wouldn't want it any other way. Not that his opinion mattered in this scenario. "Maybe if you're not too tired afterwards you can stop by my place? If you want to."
Lived together. Oh. He and Quentin had been a couple here as well as their own world or the other world. "Uh, no, I haven't met Eliot. I don't even know who he is." He couldn't recall seeing the name around the network. Now he was curious and question filled and that could be dangerous. He would look Eliot up later. Maybe not. Or maybe.
He slipped his arms around Quentin and listened to him then chuckled. "More books? Is that a hint at a wanted birthday gift?" Louis wondered if there were all night bookstores here. Probably not. He'd have to ask someone to get them for him. "Those are all good intentions. I hope the lunar energy brings them all to both of us." He looked out at the water and listened to the surf for a few moments. "If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"
Quentin pursed his lips in a powerful moue. "I think you very much underestimate the twenty-something ability to stay up well past their bedtime, but especially when something fun is involved. How about a compromise? If we're still going strong well after sunset, come out and have some fun. And if we're not, I'll just show up at your place with movies. After calling, of course. I shouldn't just presume you'd be waiting around for me. Pining for the fjords."
He snorted at his own Monty Python joke, but it petered off after a moment. "He posts to the network every few days. He's a good man. We're just… not exactly on the same page right now. Possibly in the same book. Or in the right library. Too much in the way of book metaphors? Regardless, he's moved on, and now so am I. With you. As both-friends."
The hold was a very welcome one, and Quentin sank into it, just like had a week earlier, when he'd been desperate for any kind of comfort. He circled his arms around Louis as well, head on his shoulder. "Books are always the number one on my wish list, but especially if they're a friend's favorite. But you really don't have to get me anything. The best birthday present I could have is just being around you." For just a moment, Q chewed on his lower lip, because he knew exactly what he wished for. He just needed to determine if he was brave enough to ask. He was. "Anything? Really, really anything? A kiss. From you. Anywhere you'd like. If you want. Only if you want."
“I can take a compromise. Alright, I’ll text you after I’m up on that day. If I don’t hear back from you then I’ll assume you’re partying hard or on your way to my place with movies.” As long as Quentin was enjoying his special day then Louis would be happy. Louis smiled. “Of course I’ll be waiting around for you. If you don’t do anything on your actual birthday maybe you can stop by here for a little bit. I’ll gift you and even sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you.”
Louis made a slight face. “I’m on the network everyday and I don’t remember seeing any Eliot around.” It wasn’t like there were that many posts each day either. He laughed. “That’s a lot of book metaphors, but I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Quentin the bookworm.” He was smiling again and teasing a little. It faded away though as he thought of last week when Quentin had come to him needing comfort. Now he thought he knew why.
“I know I don’t have to get you something, but I want to. Deal with it,” he chuckled. “You’re so sweet. What am I going to do with you?” Quentin wanting to spend time with him on his birthday meant a lot to him. He had friends he could be with and that he’d share any of that time with him meant a lot. “Anything at all. The sky is the limit.” Louis wasn’t sure how he’d answer such a question, but those thoughts disappeared when the other answered that he wanted a kiss from him. Wow. He hadn’t seen that coming. Should he have? Sure, he’d thought about it since they met, but had no expectations of when it would happen. He’d never kissed another man. Well…”I think I would like to kiss you on the lips.” He was nervous. What if Quentin didn’t like it? Or thought he was a bad kisser?
Louis straightened then moved to cup Q’s face. Even in the dark he could see his beautiful features. Tilting his head he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to Quentin's.
It was the answer Quentin had been hoping for but not necessarily expecting. He turned when Louis did, and didn't flinch when those slightly chilled hands found his cheeks, nor when those soft lips touched his own. The only slight change he made was the angle of his head just a hair, all the better to really sink into the feeling of being kissed by Louis. His hands came up to wrap loosely around the other's wrists, not to pull them away, but to encourage them to stay right where they were. He felt a pulse of warmth pool well below his belly and tried to ignore it. If he'd been a little afraid they might not have physical chemistry, it was short lived and now effectively refuted entirely.
Q hummed happily right until the moment they broke apart a little. "I'm adding to my list of moon water intentions, just so you know. What about you, though? If you could have anything right now, what would it be? Be honest."
The fingers that wrapped around his wrists were going to pull his hands away, Louis knew it. Yet they didn’t and so he leaned in more not wanting to let go of the feelings that were coursing through him. It had been far too long since he’d done anything like this and he swore Quentin’s lips fit against his own perfectly. The soft humming, the warmth of hands on him, it was enough to almost short circuit his thoughts.
A soft sound close to a whimper came from him when they parted. His tongue snaked out to lick over his lips. He would blame it on a habit from drinking blood. Yeah, that’s what it was. He blinked at being asked the same question he’d asked Quentin. At the moment it was a little difficult to shift gears, but he would try. The vampire had no reason to lie, to not be honest, especially with Quentin. “I’d give anything to see Sarah and my daughter again and Claudia. I will love and miss them for as long as I walk this earth. But right now, if I could have anything, I’d want to be able to walk in the sunlight again. I’d even accept still being a vampire who needs blood if I could.”
That little peek of tongue was almost enough to thoroughly distract Quentin, but Louis's response sobered him in an instant. It was his turn to touch the other's face, to trace the shape of his cheek and jaw only lit by a thin sliver of moon and the city reflected on the water. "Well, when you put it like that, I sound a little bit like I'm only interested in carnal relations." He let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh and darted in to give the very corner of Louis's mouth a kiss. "If I had the spell to give that to you, I would. Maybe we could ask some of the others? I'm not the only magic user in residence. I hope you know I'd do that for you if I could. As breathtaking as you are by moonlight, I can't imagine how dazzling you'd be in the light of day."
He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a moment. His eyes opened and he looked directly at Quentin. “But I know better. And there’s nothing wrong with being interested in carnal relations. Most are whether they admit it or not.” Of course the degree of interest varied, but that instinct was inside everyone.
“Thank you, I know you would. It wouldn’t hurt to ask others, but I don’t think they can help. I am what I am. The only ones I know of who could walk in sunlight is our ‘mother’, our queen if you will. Lestat said he drank from her. I don’t know if he can walk in daylight now or not.” It may depend on how much he drank. Louis hadn’t asked for all the details. “You flatter me so. I promise I won’t get a big head though. Come on, let's walk some more and maybe I’ll steal another kiss.”
Unless they're aro/ace, Quentin thought but didn't say. No one had time or patience for that level of pedantry, but especially not on a date. The news about Lestat's maker was a fascinating thread, but he wasn't sure it was a one he necessarily wanted to pull. He also began to wonder if there was a scientific solution, one he simply didn't have enough knowledge to glean. Q climbed to his feet when Louis did and offered him his hand. "You can't steal what's been freely given, but I welcome the attempt. Yeah, let's walk."