It had been such a significant thing in New Orleans. Crossing the room. Walking into Lestat's arms. Kissing him, hearing the gasps of shock.
There are no appalled murmurs. Maybe a passing glance, this murmur, that shrug. They are noted, smiled over, dismissed. Another older couple gets up, rangy silver-haired man coaxing his sweet-faced partner along after him into their own waltz as Jeannie sings.
Louis' fingers come to rest at Lestat's neck, thumb running back and forth at the hinge of his jaw. They are farther apart than they once were, and Louis understands it. They are different. Lestat wants different things, but still perhaps wants this remembered intimacy. It takes a few long minutes, but Louis relaxes into the sway of their bodies.
Lestat twirls him, and brings Louis back, as he had always done before into his arms. Louis lets him. Touches him still, hand at his neck, fingers linked as Lestat leads.
There are things Louis could say that would fill the space between them with conversation. But Louis gives it up. He is content to look into Lestat's face, drink in the pleased expression there, while they move together through the last few verses of Jeannie and Mark's song choice.
enjoy a tag of nothing
There are no appalled murmurs. Maybe a passing glance, this murmur, that shrug. They are noted, smiled over, dismissed. Another older couple gets up, rangy silver-haired man coaxing his sweet-faced partner along after him into their own waltz as Jeannie sings.
Louis' fingers come to rest at Lestat's neck, thumb running back and forth at the hinge of his jaw. They are farther apart than they once were, and Louis understands it. They are different. Lestat wants different things, but still perhaps wants this remembered intimacy. It takes a few long minutes, but Louis relaxes into the sway of their bodies.
Lestat twirls him, and brings Louis back, as he had always done before into his arms. Louis lets him. Touches him still, hand at his neck, fingers linked as Lestat leads.
There are things Louis could say that would fill the space between them with conversation. But Louis gives it up. He is content to look into Lestat's face, drink in the pleased expression there, while they move together through the last few verses of Jeannie and Mark's song choice.