SUMMARY: A night in doesn't go quite as anticipated
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N/A
Louis sat his phone on the coffee table then stood. Quentin was coming over to spend the night and that automatically made the night better. However, the message he had sent him about shopping had his thoughts working overtime, his curiosity growing by the minute. I’d rather show you in person. That’s what the man had written. A mix of nervousness and excitement filled him. He wasn’t sure if Quentin was alluding to things progressing further for them or if his purchase was for future use. Either way his thoughts were many and all over the place.
Suddenly the vampire looked up and toward the door. Moments later a knock came. He kissed then hugged Quentin the moment he saw him before him ushering inside. “It’s so good to see you.” The night the other was away made him feel a little lonely at times. He eyed the bag Quentin held, but didn’t say anything. “Do you want something to drink?”
Anticipation thrummed under Quentin's skin. It was a welcome change from the nerves or anxiety that usually lived there. The hours between when he'd come home from work and then bounded up to Louis's door were almost interminable. Mostly they were a blur of going to the store, coming home to grab some food and take a shower, and then reading the same page of one of his books at least fifteen times in a row because he couldn't concentrate on the words. That wasn't quite hyperbole, not when he could feel the setting sun like an itch in the back of his throat. He'd barely waited for full dark before launching himself out of the room and into a night filled with promise.
He hoped.
He smiled into the greeting and returned it in kind. Really, it was a miracle he didn't trip over himself in his haste to be in Louis's apartment. "It's good to see you, too. I missed you last night. And I thought about you until I fell asleep." Q's words tumbled over each other, and he made himself take a breath. "I'm fine with water, thanks. How are you?"
“I missed you too,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. That warm tingling feeling rushed over him when Quentn relayed he had thought about him until he fell asleep. “Did you think about what we talked about last night?” He didn’t want to say the exact words and make the man uncomfortable or nervous. He had shared that he wasn’t brave enough to say it to him in person after all. “If you don’t want to answer that or talk about it, it's okay.” He didn’t want to embarrass Quentin or make him uncomfortable.
“I’m doing good,” he answered before heading to the kitchen to grab a bottled water from the fridge. He’d already had his blood. He returned to the living room, handed Quentin his water then sat on the couch, beckoning for him to join him. “How was work?"
The relief he felt when Louis moved on from his initial questions left Q frankly weak at the knees. He quickly joined his boyfriend after taking and opening his water, but he didn't drink any yet. "Work was good." He could have expanded on that, but it wasn't what he was working his way toward talking about. "I—yeah, I very much thought about it." His face was hot; there was no way he wasn't glowing like a brand. "It was all I could think about most of the day. Pinching myself was the only way I could keep things from getting… embarrassing. At work, I mean. Last night?"
Quentin huffed a small laugh. It had the barest edge of mania to it. "Last night I let myself think about it until I fell asleep. And then I dreamed about it."
It was a little surprising that his boyfriend did stumble his way into the topic. Judging by how flushed his cheeks were it was obviously difficult to talk about. Yet they had talked so openly about it over text. “All night and day?” A smile came to his face and Louis turned to wrap his arms around Quentin, pressing a kiss to his hot cheek. “Naughty,” he teased lightly. He was aware there were people who fantasized and fetishized vampires. The same people who wanted them to be real, to take them and make them young and beautiful forever. If only his life were like a movie that made it all seem so perfect. This is why it hadn’t crossed his mind that Quentin would want him to do that.
“Are you going to tell me about your dream? Please.” He wanted to know. The more he thought about it he needed to know.
He couldn't exactly squirm. It would mean letting go of Louis, since he'd automatically put his arms around him as soon as his boyfriend had done so to him. Maybe Quentin wiggled a bit, but that was it. Leaning in, he nuzzled the soft skin of Louis's neck. In this quiet place, he could spill the truth. It wasn't Louis's judgment he feared. Not really. More like the judging he was doing on himself. The whole thing was a lesson in red flags, but talking about it could be healthy. Just a thought exercise. Q didn't want to live forever, and he didn't think becoming a vampire would magically fix his brain. He wasn't an idiot. He'd seen what eternity did to people, and it was seldom good.
Still…
"I know it can't happen, and I understand why, but my imagination really, really likes the idea of me being inside you. Us kissing each other desperately, like we're each other's air. I don't— I'm not normally the guy who's in someone, unless it's a woman, obviously. In the mosaic, we'd switch every once in a while, but it wasn't— I think I'm screwing this up. Sorry. I'm with you. I'm in you, and I'm getting close. And you keep kissing my neck, nosing at it. And I want it. I want you. I say, 'please, please, please, Louis, please.' Right when I'm about to come, you slide your fangs in… and then it's over, because I don't actually know what it's like. But it aches, you know? Like… Like I don't really have a clue. It's a dream. They're just kind of like that." Q pushed out a quiet sigh and lifted his head. "I know that's all it can be. Eventually I'll stop torturing myself with the idea, but it might take a while."
Aside from the obvious that Quentin was nervous, Louis, though staring at him, was zeroed in on his heartbeat. Fast then slow, an uneven rhythm that revealed his anxiety as well as the fact that he liked the idea of the dream he was sharing. “That’s some dream.” He could picture it. It wasn't as if he hadn’t thought about it all night after they’d stopped texting. He most certainly had. He pulled Quentin onto his lap and searched his face. He was so beautiful, really beautiful. “Do you want me to do that? For that to happen? Don’t think. Just answer honestly.” That’s all that mattered to him, that Quentin was honest.
Quentin let out a trembling breath; it matched the rest of him. It was all he could afford before he started overthinking it again. "Yes."
And then the caveats started pouring out of him. "But just a little. Not to turn me. I love who you are, Louis, but I really don't want to live forever."
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to live forever. I’ve never asked that.” That Quentin felt the need to say that hurt for many reasons. Obviously he didn’t trust him and really, he couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t like Quentin and never would be.
“Well, maybe that can happen sometime.” Louis gave him a smile, the best he could muster at the moment.
Well, shit. Even with the smile, Q knew he'd let his mouth firmly step in it. Again. That was why he absolutely did not point out that the alternative to Louis losing control—his boyfriend's own fears that they'd just discussed the evening before—was Quentin losing his life instead of gaining unlife for eternity, although it was right on the tip of his brain. He'd said enough already, obviously. Q shook his head with a slight frown, then abandoned his water on the coffee table and took Louis's face in his hands. Thumbs stroking across his cheeks, he made very sure he had his boyfriend's attention.
"Okay, so let's take a beat and reframe this a bit, okay?" Quentin made a face. "That was an unnecessary number of okays. And that's totally beside the point. The point is that we should be approaching this like any other discussion about sexual preferences and potential kinks. Step one is this: I'm very open to the idea of being bitten by you. Step two is to list out my very small number of reservations: I trust that you would never mean to hurt me, but you've also said that your hunger can sometimes be difficult to control. That creates a possibility where your higher reasoning steps into the background, and you take more than you mean to. Step three: can we figure out a way to make it safe for both of us and keep it that way throughout?"
Louis stared back into Quentin's face, trying hard not to show the hurt he felt. Lestat saying he was over emotional and clung to his humanity played over and over in his mind. He did both and would never apologize for that, but sometimes it didn't help. "The truth is it's not a good idea. We said as much yesterday, but we kept discussing it. We were talking, fantasizing. Nothing more." Nothing in life was guaranteed. Nothing.
He gently pulled away from Quentin's hands. "I'm sorry if I led you on or anything. I know better. I couldn't bear it if I hurt you in any way."
"Hey, this isn't a deal breaker or anything." It absolutely wasn't, and that was the last thing he wanted going through Louis's head. Quentin reached for his hand and twined their fingers. Doing so, keeping that closeness, kept the worst of his anxiety at bay. "We're having a frank and honest conversation, which is totally the healthy adult thing to do. Honestly, I'm really proud of us. We're setting boundaries, and I won't ask about it again. I can't promise I won't think about it from time to time, but I swear I won't bring it up. Just because biting is off the table doesn't mean we can't get into all kinds of other totally fun things. Why do you think I stopped at the store after work, huh?"
He nodded. It was healthy and so adult of them. Still, his thoughts were a bit scattered. He knew Quentin wouldn’t ask again because he’d proven himself to be respectful and kind. And he certainly wouldn’t bring it up now or ever. He didn’t mind if Quentin thought about it. It was a fantasy after all, and everyone had them. That’s all it would be, all it ever was. Louis glanced over at the other man. “I really don’t know why you stopped at the store.” There could be a dozen different reasons why.
While Quentin figured things were still a little tender, they hadn't been shut down completely. He made a slightly mad scramble for the bag he'd set next to the couch and pulled it between them. "Okay, so no surprise, there's personal lubrication." He said it easily enough, but Q's cheeks could have guided a certain Yuletide sleigh. Regardless, he continued pulling out two more. "This one is the warming kind. We can test it out to see if it's okay on your skin. And this? This is the actual surprise: massage oil! Unscented, of course, and it's got really good reviews. If there's any time you should be relaxed, it's definitely for your first time. So… what do you think? Are you up for it, or have we kind of killed the mood? It's okay if we don't, honest. I really just want to spend time with you."
“Those are very thoughtful,” Louis finally said. Massage oil wouldn’t have been something he would have thought of. Thinking about it though, it made sense to want your partner to be as relaxed as possible. “I think the moment has passed.” He had a myriad of emotions and thoughts about it doing so. After texting with Quentin, he'd had an inkling it might be on the table for tonight, but wouldn’t assume. Maybe more so he didn’t want to appear all nervous so he let things progress natrually. Then things happened. As much as he wanted to push past them he was having a hard time with it. It was all so fucking complicated in a way. He’d been going on as if this was some normal relationship when it wasn’t.
“We could watch a movie or something, if you want to. I have plenty of snacks in the cupboard and drink options in the fridge.”
Quentin gave himself exactly five seconds to be disappointed before he switched gears entirely. The bottles were put away faster than they'd been presented, and instead he pulled out the same brush he'd originally meant to use for his birthday. It was set on the coffee table as a silent, unobtrusive suggestion before he sat back and smiled at his boyfriend. "A movie sounds perfect. If I get hungry or whatever, I can wander in and grab something. What are you in the mood for? Modern? Period—I hear the irony now that I say it aloud. Have you read Pride and Prejudice yet? There's a really good film version we could watch."
Louis watched Quentin sit a hairbrush on the coffee table. How many times had they talked about brushing each other's hair? Somehow they’d not gotten around to it yet. “I haven’t read it yet, but we can watch the movie. I don’t mind seeing it before I read the book if that’s what you want to watch.” He paused, thinking before he spoke again. “Quentin? Would you like to go to this small music club I found? They have live music. Mostly jazz, some blues.”
They needed to get out more. The whole mostly staying in was getting old. Yes, the late hour they could finally see each other affected what they did, but it was good to get out. Quentin had once told him that he would woo him. Was he? In a little way. “Do you like knick knacks? I think that’s what they’re called.”
The rate at which things were changing gears made Q's head spin a little. There had to be a reason why Louis kept doing it, though. Quentin knew his idea of a fun night wasn't the most widely accepted one, but he was nothing if not flexible when it counted. At least he tried to be. "Are they open now? We could go out instead of staying in again? I can't say I've ever been to a jazz club before, but I'll try practically anything once."
He tried to puzzle out what Louis was getting at, as evidenced by Q's slightly furrowed brow, so he asked, "Like collectables or tchotchkes? Yeah, they're cool. I had a bunch in my bedroom growing up. Are you thinking about getting into something?"
“Yes, it’s open now, but I didn’t mean for us to go now. It’s late. That’s something more to do on a weekend.” Louis knew it was late, Quentin had work in the morning, and he wasn’t much in the mood for going out at present. Because his thoughts were a bit scattered he was jumping around to different topics. He didn’t mean to, it was all just coming out of his mouth.
“Something like that, but I meant more on the decorative side. We can talk about it later.” He reached for the remote and turned the TV on then began to search for Pride and Prejudice. He found it a few minutes later and started the movie.
That was three things now that Louis had brought up and effectively shut down, and Quentin felt all kinds of wrongfooted. So for a while he simply sat there, leaning very gently against his boyfriend's arm, and watched the Bennets rave over the arrival of two men of generous fortune. Soon enough he began to slowly shift until he was mostly angled toward Louis, which was the perfect vantage place for him to use the brush he'd retrieved from the coffee table. Softly, so he wasn't disrupting the movie too much, he asked, "May I?"
Such a movie had Louis lost in memories of the past. How women truly did fawn over a man with money because it was their best and only option to take care of themselves and their family. How times had changed. He liked Elizabeth. A woman who thought for herself. He was pulled from the movie and his thoughts when Quentin spoke and turned to see him holding the brush. He smiled softly and nodded. “Yes, of course.” He moved to sit on the floor, back against the couch in front of him. It would be easier to brush his hair.
Shuffling to sit behind him, Quentin spent a majority of the rest of the movie simply brushing sections of his boyfriend's hair over and over, interspersed with massaging his scalp. The whole experience left him with tingles at the ends of his fingers and goosebumps up his arms. It was all so very intimate, and Q found he enjoyed it. Maybe this wasn't what he'd had in mind when he came over, but it was perfect as far as he was concerned.