Trio in Rio

Chapter Three

Louis fought down the sob that tried to escape his throat. It was true, but it hurt to hear it. It was frightening. To be honest he didn't really want to be left alone, but he thought it would be good for David and Lestat to get out for a while. Go and have some fun. Every conversation was ending in an argument. There was too much guilt and worry in the room. Louis sighed.

Lestat came over to the bed and spoke softly to him. "I want to be with you, beautiful one. Is that such an irritating prospect, hmmm?"

Louis almost smiled. "Non, Lestat, it is only that it has been a terrible trip so far. It got off to a bad start. But everything is going to be fine. I am going to be fine. You said so yourself. So there is no reason to waste the nights you have here. David wanted to show you the carnival. You and David should have some time together. Take it now."

"Louis," David said. "That is not the priority. If that is the only reason you want us to leave then I agree with Lestat, and we shall not. Carnaval happens every year, we have eternity to see it over and over. Do not concern yourself with that."

"David, did you bring any books?" Lestat asked.

"Yes, I have a few," David answered. "Why?"

"Did you bring any INTERESTING books?" Lestat asked, playfully.

David went to the luggage and pulled out one of his bags. He laid it on the second bed and unzipped it. "I brought FAUST, THE COLLECTED KAFKA, THE SERPENT AND THE RAINBOW…"

"I believe I said INTERESTING books," Lestat yawned.

"Well, perhaps this then," David tossed a book at Lestat. Lestat caught it and found the title.

"THE VAMPIRE LESTAT! Perfect!" Lestat exclaimed delightedly. "Now make yourself comfortable David. I am going to read to you."

"Lestat-" Louis began.

"What Louis? Don't you remember life before television and VCRs you spoiled boy? We used to read aloud all the time. It was a major entertainment, have you forgotten?"

Louis smiled. "Non."

"Alright then, Lestat said, climbing into bed next to David. He opened the book. " 'I am the Vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire-these things might destroy me. But then again they might not.' " Lestat read.

"Live and learn," David commented.

"Could I have quiet, please?" Lestat asked him. David smiled at him.

" 'I am six feet tall, which was fairly impressive in the 1780s, when I was a young mortal man...' " Lestat continued to read, for the most part uninterrupted for the rest of the night. Louis and David quite liked this actually, and for the same reason. Neither had ever heard Lestat read one of his own books. It was interesting to hear exactly how each sentence was meant to be said. What words to be stressed, in some instances it completely changes the meaning. And Lestat, for his part, was having the time of his life, with his two favorite fledglings as his audience. Louis was asleep long before anything insulting was said about him. 'His lies and his vanity' and such. And Lestat was just starting the sixth chapter of Part VII when David closed his eyes. Lestat looked at the two of them. He got out of bed and kissed Louis's cheeks. They felt warm, but not overly so. He crawled back into bed with David and kissed his lips. Then he thanked God, or Claudia or whatever it was that had allowed him these perfect companions, convinced himself that Louis would be alright by tomorrow night, and fell asleep.

The next night Lestat awoke curled around David. He simply lay there with his fledgling in his arms, enjoying the feel of it David, his David, in this beautiful body, strong and young and loved him still. Lestat couldn't believe his luck. It had only taken him 5 tries. That wasn't so bad, was it? And two of them weren't complete failures. Gabrielle was cold and anti-social as hell, but wasn't she always? And Louis, he was guilt-ridden, yes, but not quite so melancholy all the time, not since Carmel Valley. And so utterly beautiful in his tragedy that it didn't really matter so much. And he was so good to tease and taunt and infuriate. Actually, Louis was perfect, for Lestat's purposes, just as he was. Think if he had made a fledgling like David back when he had made Louis. A fledgling so alike in his powers that he could actually challenge Lestat and do a good battle for leadership. Back then Lestat would probably have killed him by the third night.

No, Lestat had needed his little mortal lifetime of superiority, even if it had come to a bitter end. It had been fun to be to be the one who was always right and the one who always won. To be the strong one, to be the leader, the protector, the father, even. And it still was.

Lestat gently extricated himself from David and went over to Louis. Lestat kissed his cheeks. There was warmth, but not much more than the heat after feeding well. Louis's color was improving as well. The reddish soreness had faded somewhat, it no longer hurt just to look at it. It was an interesting effect on Louis. He was a few shades darker than he had been even as a mortal and it gave him a faintly exotic appearance. Lestat pulled the sheet down. The color was even, as his own tan was, despite the clothing Louis had been wearing. Lestat ran his hands down Louis's body, even temperature as well. Lestat found himself lingering here, Louis's skin was so soft. Harder than that of a mortal, certainly, but it retained that mortal malleability, the gentle swells and curves. Lestat's own skin had become an almost shell-like carapace. But Louis's was still a bit springy to the touch. Lestat found himself tracing the muscles of Louis's stomach. He pressed his face to Louis's chest. The tenderness and the warmth there was almost irresistible. Lestat looked across the room at David. Still sleeping. Good.

Lestat let his hands roam all over Louis. He touched him and held him and kissed him as he never had. The utter despair at the thought of losing Louis was let loose in his mind now. Louis was a constant. Louis was always there, taken for granted really. Ignored when other, more exciting events took precedence, but always there when needed. Always waiting in some crumbling house, abandoned flat or tumble-down shack so that Lestat could always have him when he wanted. Unimaginable that one night when Lestat had had enough of misadventure and tempting fate there would be no Louis to relax him with his low and gentle voice. No Louis to lull him back into the rhythms of the world with his endlessly repetitive routine. No Louis for him to gaze upon and know that this beauty is eternal. No Louis to frighten and outrage with his tales? No Louis to explain to him in his angry and yet perfectly controlled voice, that he was the devil himself, that he should be walled up in a dungeon, that he was a monster, a fiend? Impossible.

Lestat lifted Louis and slipped into the bed beneath him. He kissed Louis's face and hair. He rained kissed down Louis's smooth chest. He rubbed Louis's glossy fingernails against his lips. He cradled Louis in his arms and licked his soft nipples which were so warm now and slightly pink. He rubbed his hands over Louis's hips to his thighs. Louis was slender and slightly built, standing a bit shorter than Lestat at 5'10 and 1/2, but he was well-developed and his muscles were hard. This was from riding everyday and the other common exertions of everyday life in 1791 that today would be thought of as unendurable hardships. Even rich young planters like Louis walked miles everyday; up and down the stairs of the house, out to the stables, checking the progress in the fields and conditions in the slave quarter. Lestat remembered Louis's difficulty in running the plantation once he had been made and could not supervise the plantation nor conduct his business during the day. Louis had been accustomed to riding into New Orleans and walking from the bank to the cotton mill to the tailor to the blacksmith to the silversmith to various merchants and wherever else he had errands or business. And all this while wearing a full suit of proper gentleman's clothing; shirt, vest, breeches, coat and boots, in the oppressive heat and humidity of New Orleans.

Lestat ran his hands again through Louis's long black waves. He remembered hearing that Louis refused to wear a hat during the heat of the day, and that it was somewhat of a bone of contention between himself and his mother. It was hilarious to imagine Louis being scolded for improper behavior! Louis, who wouldn't even allow himself to put his own hands in his own pockets! What a stiff battle-ax she must have been. This, of course, had been before the bitch had gone to the police to accuse her own firstborn son of fratricide. Lestat had rarely been in her presence, but he had always held a bad opinion of her. It seemed to him that she was forever haranguing Louis about this thing or that. She hated the city, it was coarse and dirty, and the house was too small. She needed another servant, the dressmaker was using inferior thread, the wine that had come in the latest ship from France was unfit to drink and she must have the wine brought from Pointe du Lac. But Louis seemed to love to attend to these endless requests of hers, and always accepted all of her complaints and criticism with a respectful, "Oui, Maman, I shall attend to it" and left her with a kiss and a bow. Lestat was vastly relieved and infinitely glad when she died. Though Louis had been quite upset. He had locked himself in his room, venturing out only to hunt, and cried heartbrokenly for two nights. Lestat understood this, after all it was the same filial grief that had led him to make Gabrielle one of their kind, but he wouldn't let Louis know it then. Instead he had stood and pounded on Louis's door, shouting at him to stop this childish squalling and come sit at the table like a man. In fact, he did it because he loathed the idea of having to pretend to dine with his blind father alone. Louis could always engage the old man in enough mindless chatter to keep him content. Lestat relied on this to get through the charade.

Good God, how he regretted all of his selfishness and stupidity then. But wasn't he still? At this moment, holding Louis naked in his lap, this was certainly selfish, Louis would never consciously allow it. And with David in the same room as well? Louis would be mortified as well as enraged. And it was somewhat stupid. He hadn't determined exactly when David tended to wake, and if he awoke to see this he would be scandalized as well as wildly indignant on Louis's behalf. Yet, Lestat didn't really care, did he? He wanted to do it, and so he was. And enjoying it immensely.

Lestat spread Louis's thighs and ran his fingers through the dark glossy curls between them. Louis's hair was soft, not wiry, as soft as the hair on his head. Lestat petted it and kissed it. He took Louis's member in his hand. It was a good size, proportionate to Louis. Lestat squeezed it gently and massaged it, all the while imagining how thoroughly livid Louis would be if he ever found out. He bent his head and kissed it's tip, then took it into his mouth, because he imagined this would be his only chance to ever do so.

If Louis had any of his own essence or scent left, this was it; a sweet, rich mix of cinnamon and sandalwood. Or better to say a scent more similar to this than anything else. It was impossible to describe really. It was Louis. Lestat released him from his mouth and kissed him. He let his hands wander down Louis's legs and over his feet. He looked over at David, still sleeping. He decided if he had gone this far, why not really satisfy his curiosity?

He turned Louis over onto his stomach. He laid down beside Louis and turned his face towards him, kissing his lips. The warmth in the kiss was an almost sexual pleasure and Lestat moaned softly. He laid his head on Louis's shoulders and rubbed his back. The color of him, the warmth, the softness of his skin, it was like holding a man, not a vampire. And the increased sensitivity in Lestat's recently burnt hands added an even deeper dimension. Lestat traced Louis's spine to his buttocks. He molded them in his hands. Thank Heaven that Louis continued to favor the tight-fitting pants of their era. Lestat had often gotten as much joy out of following Louis as he did from facing him. And it was a pleasure made even more sweet by the fact that Louis had absolutely no idea of his allure. Of course, by now certainly, Louis must have realized that his eyes, his face and his hair were considered to be quite becoming to others, even if he still considered himself "regular" and "nothing exceptional." But as to how the graceful movements of his well-formed body affected others, how he was indeed a walking wet dream, as they used to say in the crude taverns of Auvergne, Louis was as unaware as an infant. It was a charming ignorance.

Lestat let his fingers slip into the cleft. He probed the depth. He stroked Louis lightly with his first finger. He found him to be rather small. Lestat pushed a finger at the opening. Tight, very tight, he would go as far as to say virginally tight. Could that be? Well, with Louis it certainly was possible. Enjoying the favors of whores and bargirls, this was practically a Creole right of passage, but boys? In New Orleans? In the 1780s? Not unless one knew where to go and what to say, and Louis certainly could have lived his whole life without finding out. Lestat nudged his finger deeper, past the hard, unyeilding muscles encircling the orifice. Ahh, yes, this was territory untouched by human hands, certainly. How delicious. Lestat furtively glanced to David. His eyes were still closed. Lestat was having the most irresistible idea.

He leapt up gracefully and undressed in seconds, popping some buttons in the process and lay back down, naked, beside Louis. Lestat took hold of his own organ. It wasn't erect, of course, but it was hard. Hard as marble, as was the rest of his skin. And it had feeling, it certainly did. It was much more sensitive than when he was a mortal, in fact. Lestat tapped himself lightly, feeling the ripples of sensation wash through his body, kissed the back of Louis's neck, and made his decision.

He rolled Louis onto his side. Holding him around the chest with one arm, Lestat held himself with the other hand, and slowly entered Louis. Oh, it was pure delight. Lestat inched himself further and further in, finally moving on top of Louis and thrusting as hard as he could. He buried himself to the hilt in Louis. Lestat rocked slightly, Louis's rigid, unstretched passage crushing him. It was perfect. Lestat eased up and down slowly, for several minutes.

He leaned close to Louis's ear and whispered, "My Louis. Mine. Mon amour, toujours."

Vibrations of pleasure danced through Lestat's body, up to his head, down through his toes, out each of his fingers. And then, similar to mortal orgasms, the sensations became less intense, and faded. Lestat knew it was over. He rolled to his side and pulled himself free of Louis, loving the smoothness and cleanliness of this vampire "love-making." So much more pleasurable than the wet, sticky, odorous nature of mortal sex. Having withdrawn, he saw that he has torn Louis somewhat. 'My, my but we were an untouched child, weren't we Louis? It seems I have broken your maidenhood, mon cher!' Lestat thought.

Lestat ran the tip of his finger over his fang, making a long deep gash, and plunged his healing blood into Louis. He rotated quickly, covering all surfaces and emerged, smearing Louis's wounded ring of skin and muscle with red. Lestat watched the wounds close.

'Ah, restored virginity! Is there nothing beyond the power of the Vampire Lestat?' Lestat looked to see that his finger had already healed. All evidence gone. No fibers to bag for the rape kit, no blood to test for DNA matches, the perfect crime.

Lestat turned Louis again and gazed at his sleeping fledgling. So beautiful. He knew he overused the word until it seemed to have no meaning, but what other adjective could so completely encompass Louis? His luxuriant black hair, fine as silk and vaguely curly, Lestat took two handfuls of it and pulled it through his fingers. Louis's hair, it drove him wild, it really did. Even after more than 200 years, Lestat could barely stand to look at Louis without touching his hair. He stroked it back now, to fall away from Louis's face, such exquisite features. Lestat smoothed Louis's eyebrows with his thumbs. They were perfectly shaped, symmetrical and identical. It was the same with his stunning eyes which were wide set, pure true green, and seemed to have kept a bit of the dimension and roundness of childhood. Lestat touched Louis's eyelashes, they were thick, long and curved outward from his eyes. Louis eyes, was it possible that the sun had destroyed Louis's eyes? Lestat wanted to weep. He kissed Louis over and over. Louis's lips, always soft and full, had a color and warmth that tempted Lestat. He so wanted to bite those rose petal lips. But if he did, he may not be able to stop at one small sip, and Louis was in no condition to lose much blood. Instead Lestat pulled Louis's jaw down and opened Louis's mouth. He stared at Louis's fangs, perfect little fangs. Not that they were actually small, they were adequately long and sharp. But Louis's canines had never been as prominent as Lestat's. So as they lengthened and pointed, they stayed in line with his other teeth, giving him more the look of a kitten than a killer. Lestat often admired his own fangs in the mirror, and thought they had a much more vicious shape to them, like a wolf or a savage jungle cat, or indeed a horrible monstrous vampire!

Lestat pressed his open mouth to Louis's. He flicked his tongue over the points of Louis's fangs, making tiny cuts and bleeding slightly into Louis's mouth as the cuts healed.

'For your eyes, beautiful one,' he thought. 'For your eyes.' Then he withdrew and kissed Louis one last time.

He stood and pulled down the case he'd packed for Louis. He set it beside Louis's bed. Lestat picked up his own discarded clothing and threw it into his own bag. From this he brought out more clothes and dressed quickly; shorts, sandals, T-shirt, the tourist look. David had rolled over and was in the light sleep of night, rather than the death sleep of day, and this only due to the stress of the past nights, as vampires rarely sleep at night. But because of this, Lestat knew he didn't have much time before David woke. He threw the locks on Louis's suitcase. He'd been rather pleased and surprised to find several new garments in Louis's closet when he had packed this case. Of course, he realized that Louis had to buy new clothes once or twice a decade, but Lestat never imagined that Louis would buy so many at one time. And Lestat had packed them all. Suits, all black, of course, but one with beautifully worked silver buttons, and another buttoned with carved onyx roses. Three others with plain flat black buttons of plastic or brass.

'Oh Louis,' Lestat thought. 'Must you dress like an undertaker?'

There were two fine vests, one of blue silk with green embroidery, one of red velvet. Shirts, one large and flowing, white with ruffles at the collar and cuffs, a plain white button down, a plain black button down, two collarless, black and grey, and of course the ever-present black sweaters; mock turtlenecks, cable knits, pullovers. With five pairs of black denim jeans, and 12 pairs of black socks, Lestat had emptied Louis's room of all acceptable clothing. There were no underwear, of course. Louis found them uncomfortable, and Lestat had always suspected that he was too embarrassed to buy them. It wasn't gentlemanly to purchase one's underclothing in public. He had also, without Louis's knowledge, thrown out the rest of the rags that had been masquerading as Louis's wardrobe. But by the time they returned to the Rue Royale flat, Louis would be used to the new clothes, and wouldn't miss the pathetic worn articles. At least this was what Lestat thought. Unfortunately, it seemed that Louis had been wearing his very best suit the first night in Rio, and had scorched it beyond salvation. Oh well, Lestat would buy him another one. But what to dress him in tonight? Something light, preferably. Lestat remembered the feel of cloth next to his skin the first time he had dressed after he'd been burned. It was terrible. Louis was less deeply burned, and a bit more recovered than Lestat had been, so Lestat guessed he could stand it. But there was no need to wrap him in heavy rough layers. Lestat hefted each item in his hands. No, none of this would do, he would have to dress Louis in his own clothes until Louis could bear wearing these things.

Lestat repacked Louis's suitcase and closed it. He opened his own and took out a T-shirt. It would be a bit large on Louis, but not ridiculously so. It was white and plain, that should please Louis. Lestat then brought out several pairs of shorts. Louis's hips were smaller than his own, so he chose a pair that were snug on him. A bit short for Louis's taste probably, but they were black and plain and would fit him well. And besides, he hadn't much choice. Lestat took the shirt and shorts and dressed Louis. It was very enjoyable actually, it reminded him of how he and Louis used to love to order clothes and dress Claudia. Hmmm, the shorts only reached two inches down Louis's thighs. Indecently short without underwear, not that Lestat minded, but it would humiliate Louis beyond all reason to find himself, exposed, as it were. Lestat pulled the shorts off of him, and went back into his own luggage for some smallish white Y fronts. God knew what kind of a fit Louis would throw if Lestat dressed him in colored silk or bikinis or worse. Lestat found a pair and was pulling them up as David opened his eyes.

"LESTAT! What in hell do you think you are doing?!" David demanded.

Lestat smoothly finished his motion, reached in and adjusted Louis to the left, all the while completely ignoring David. He reached for the shorts and happened to look over his shoulder.

"Why David, I didn't know you were awake," He said pleasantly.

David was incensed. "Lestat! How dare you take such liberties with Louis while he is in this state!"

"Liberties, David? And what liberties do you mean?" Lestat asked, amusedly.

"You know damn well what I mean! I saw you!"

"You saw me what, David?"

"TOUCHING him! With your hand on him!"

"I am DRESSING him, David. Don't be such an hysteric," Lestat answered.

David got out of bed and came to stand at the foot of Louis's bed, as Lestat lifted Louis to pull the shorts over his bottom.

"Oh," David said abashedly. "I owe you an apology, Lestat. I jumped to an erroneous conclusion."

"You made a despicable accusation is what you did, David," Lestat said calmly, pulling the sheet back up over Louis.

"Yes, I am sorry," David said sincerely.

Lestat turned and put his hands on David's shoulders. "David, I thought you knew me better than that. If I intend to 'take liberties' with someone, I much prefer to have him awake," Lestat said cheekily, and kissed David quickly, to show it was a joke. "Now listen, I would like to move Louis to the penthouse while he is still asleep, and we haven't much time because you slept late."

"You could have woken me, Lestat."

"Yes, but I was too busy taking liberties with Louis," Lestat said lightly.

David smiled and shook his head. "Shall I take the luggage?"
"No. I am going to take the luggage and check in the usual way, then you bring Louis. It is the top floor, Penthouse three."

"All right."

Lestat piled the luggage onto the luggage cart and wheeled out of the room.

David closed the door after Lestat and went to Louis. He was pleased at the change in Louis's skin tone. David put his hand to Louis's forehead, as if checking for fever. Louis was warm, warmer than David, but much cooler than he had been last night. David took Louis's hands in his own, and looked down into Louis's sleeping face.

"I am so sorry, Louis. So terribly sorry, my friend," he said, with deep regret. He released Louis's hands with a sigh, and looked around the room. He wondered briefly if he should do something about the broken telly. He had intended to allow Lestat forty-five minutes to check in and all that. He looked at his watch. It had only been seven minutes, but there wasn't enough time to replace the television. Instead, he went into his wallet and produced two hundred dollars, American. He left this on the dresser beneath the remote control.

Having nothing else to do, he went to the bed he had shared with Lestat and made it. He thought of making Louis's bed as well. He lifted Louis, and moved him to his already made bed. David stood back and gazed at Louis. Lestat had dressed him in your basic slob tourist fashion. Though it gave Louis a somewhat less dignified look, it was pleasing to David. Louis appeared younger, carefree even, with his face relaxed in sleep.

'He is stunning,' David thought. 'Not as overtly as Lestat, but in a more subtle way. Lestat's beauty is like a burst of color, Louis is more like a carving in ebony. The longer you look, the more beauty you see.'

David felt himself being drawn ever closer to Louis. He wasn't sure of this feeling. Certainly he loved Lestat. He would say he was in love with Lestat. But if he wasn't careful he would find himself wanting to be much more than a friend to Louis. And this was not like him. Even in his younger, wilder days, even at school, he was never one to have a 'boy on the side' as they said. He'd never even contemplated such a thing. Not that this would be the same thing at all. The rules had all changed for him. He never had been able to understand how vampire companionships functioned. When he had been in the Talamasca, he had tried to trace some sort of patterns out of their seemingly random unions and separations. Why would there be evidence of a certain two or three or even an entire coven existing together for decades, or even centuries, and then suddenly moving apart? Why would one who had been solitary for his entire existence, suddenly begin a companionship with another? Why did some fledglings stay with their makers, yet others left almost immediately? David had tried a theory of hunting partners, hunting packs and lone hunters, but it did not follow through. And here he was in the middle of some sort of vampiric relationship, and he still didn't know. He understood that there were elements of love, hate, jealousy, envy, control and security in vampire relationships, as in human ones. But as to this one in particular, David hadn't a clue. Where did he stand in the scheme of things? Had he become the third corner in Lestat's love triangle? This new life was proving to be a complicated challenge. David looked to his watch again. Forty-five minutes and more had passed. He left a tip, fifty dollars, American, on the pillow of Louis's bed, for the poor housekeeper they'd annoyed the night before. Then he opened the window, put Louis over his shoulder and went out.

He flew to the top level and found Penthouse Three easily. Lestat was standing in the window drumming his fingers and looking at his watch. He opened the window and helped David in.

"Put him in there." Lestat pointed to an open door.

David carried Louis in and placed him on the bed. Lestat had already covered the windows securely and put away the bags. David noticed that, though it was a king size, there was only one bed in the room. David arranged Louis comfortably and pulled the sheet over him.

Trio in Rio - Chapter Four

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