Title: A Stroll Down Bourbon St (Part 3)
Author: Jen Imparato Archive: Yes to ATP, anyone else, email me. Pairing: Brian/Michael Featuring: Lestat, Louis, & Armand Rating: R Status: New Email address: vampirejen@comcast.net Disclaimers: Characters are the property of Showtime and CowLip productions. Vampires are property of Anne Rice. Spoilers: None Notes: Part 3 of QAF/Vampire Chronicles Crossover fiction. If you've read or seen Interview With The Vampire, you'll know the characters I'm using. The first 2 parts are mostly QAF, this part is entirely from Lestat's point of view. Thank You: To everyone that pre-beta'd this story when it was in the beginning stages, and those who reviewed the finished product. And most of all, to the QAF-BrianandMichael group, for giving me that extra little push to start this project and continue it.
I notice him as soon as he walks into the club. He walks with a confidence that is rare in mortals. He struts up to the bar and downs two double shots as he scans the dance floor; it looks as if he's played this role before. *"A whole new ball game,"*, I read in his thoughts. So, he has played the role before, just not around here. I notice him spot me., *"I have to have him,"*, I hear from his mind. Yeah, he wants me. And why wouldn't he?, I'm an attractive vampire who portrays one hell of a hot mortal. He's walking this way. I scan his thoughts; he's got more going on in his mind than my last four victims combined. He's Pittsburgh's hottest stud, but he left. He always gets his trick... I, Lestat De Lioncourt, am no trick. However, this Brian is quite attractive. I think I'll play along.
He comes up behind me, and taps me. I turn, and the look on his face is priceless. He looks at me the way most mortals look at me, stunned by my beauty. "Lestat," I offer, knowing that if I don't say something, he'd probably continue to stare. He's a bit confused at first, but then he smiles and regains himself. I ask him to dance, and then I see it, his smirk of confidence. He agrees to dancing, promising that we have the whole night for "other things." Yeah, he's going to be fun. I know what he's thinking, but I play along. "Other things?" I question. He smiles. "You'll see," and we dance towards the center of the floor. So, he likes to be the center of attention. I can do that. I knew, as soon as we started dancing, that he was no ordinary mortal. This Brian is everything that I am, without fangs. He's a predator. I can tell by that way he was looking at me while he was walking toward me. I can tell by the way he's looking at me now, like he's captured his prey. This is going to be fun.
"You're not from around here, are you?" I ask, trying to see how much he will open up to me and how much I'm going to have to rely on my power of mind(-)reading to tell me.
"No," he answers. Short and sweet. I figure he might go on, but he doesn't. His arms rest on my shoulders as he pulls me closer.
"So, where are you from?"
"Pittsburgh, why?" he replies, somewhat confused that I'm actually talking to him.
I look into his eyes, and for a moment I'm struck by his beauty. His eyes tell his story. He's here because he had to get away. He's in love, but afraid. Someone he loved, or at least thought he loved, hurt him. He never believed in love before this young man, this Justin. So he has a thing for blondes. But there is someone else in his thoughts, someone he tries to push back. This person must be the cause of his fear.
"Just wondering, didn't you ever hold a conversation with anyone you met in Pittsburgh?"
"Yeah, I guess. It just didn't involve much more than 'your place or mine?'" he says, thinking back on the last night he went dancing in Pittsburgh.
While we dance, all eyes are on us. I love it, and I can tell that he does too. It won't be long before he motions to make an exit. I'd seen this scene run through his mind many times from the club he used to frequent in Pittsburgh.
"Babylon," he says, literally out of nowhere.
"Huh?" He catches me off guard, and this is truly a first. Normally I can field a question before it's ever asked.
"You were asking about Pittsburgh. Well Babylon is the club I used to go to every night. Everyone on Liberty Avenue knows who Brian Kinney is; I'm nearly a celebrity there," he says. The look in his eyes tells me that he has no idea why he is telling me all this.
"Then why would you leave? If everyone knew you, and I'd assume everyone wanted you, why would you willingly walk away?" I ask, knowing that he won't tell me the exact truth.
"Change of scene. I've had nearly everyone on Liberty Ave. It was time to move on," he replies.
He really looks like he believes himself. Little does he know that I can read the truth. He left because of the love for his best friend. Why isn't he thinking the name? Is he afraid of admitting the truth? Whatever Justin did, it hurt Brian's outlook on love more than he'll ever admit.
"But it's all behind me now. Let's get out of here," he says, pulling me through the crowd.
Once outside, he looks lost. I guess he figured it would look like Liberty Avenue.
"What's wrong, Brian?"
"Nothing. I'm staying at the Astor Crowne Plaza if you'd like to come back with me," he says, smiling at me.
"How did you get here?"
"I took a cab. I haven't driven around the French Quarter long enough to know my way around in a drunken stupor." As he speaks, a glimmer of sadness flashes across his face.
"Okay, I'll get us a taxi," I say.
*Why is this guy being so nice to me? Why does he care where I'm from or why I'm here? I never had a trick actually talk to me, well, except for Justin. But was Justin ever really just a trick? Can't think about him. But Lestat, he's beautiful. He's not Mikey, but he's beautiful. He's got to be amazing in bed* Brian thinks as he watches me hail a cab.
"Come on Brian, this cab is going our way," I yell, pulling Brian out of his thoughts.
In the cab, we don't talk very much. Brian is lost in his thoughts about Pittsburgh and Mikey. He is trying to forget what he left behind and concentrate on what is here and now. He wasn't counting on me. He's never held a conversation with a trick. I still hate that word. I want to know more about this man. He wants more from me than I can give him. Now I know what drew me to this mortal. He reminds me of how my beloved Louis made me feel. Louis left me because I couldn't give him everything he wanted, or everything he thought I should be able to.
"We're here," Brian says, pulling on my arm. "Are you coming? Or going?" Brian smiles as he recalls another time where he said something similar.
"I'm coming," I reply, getting out of the cab and paying the driver.
"You didn't have to do that; I could have paid him," Brian says, smiling.
"I know, but I wanted to. Haven't you ever heard of southern hospitality?" I ask, flashing the irresistible grin that makes Brian want to melt.
He opens the door to his room, on the sixth floor, with a wonderful view of the never-ending festivities of Bourbon Street. He motions to the bed and tells me to make myself comfortable as he kicks off his shoes.
I sit down on the end of the bed and watch Brian as he takes his clothes off. He is beautiful. He turns to look at me, I stand and walk to meet him half way across the room.
"You're still dressed," he says, grinning.
"Why yes, I am," I reply, he thinks I'm playing hard to get. How can I tell this beautiful man that I can't do what he wishes? At least I don't think I can.
"Why is that?" he says, taking the hem of my shirt in his hands and pulling it over my head.
"Brian, I'm not sure you want to go through with this. I'm not what you think I am," I say, hoping he gets mad and throws me out. But he doesn't. He looks at me, like he understands.
*First time? Could be straight? No, too attractive to be straight. Bisexual? No. He's gay. First time in a long time? I don't care, I have to have him.* I hear from his mind.
He unbuttons my pants and pushes them down and helps me step out of them, leaving my underwear on. He's a predator, but he's not going to take something the other party isn't willing to give.
*Don't leave. I'm giving you the chance to leave. The chance I didn't have my first time. I won't hurt you. I can be gentle. Give me a chance, I know you won't regret it. Hundreds of gay men in Pittsburgh can't be wrong* He's thinking, and I believe him. But, can I? It's been a long time, centuries.
"Kiss me, Brian," I say, breathless, just thinking about what this man wants to do to me.
"Now that's what drew me to you., I could tell you've got aggression in your blood," he says, and takes me in his arms and kisses me. His mouth devours mine; he's incredibly talented with his tongue. He hands roam everywhere else on my body he can reach. I start to feel something I never felt before, but it's hard to describe. I wanted him, but I was still afraid that everything I've ever read or been told is true, that once you accept the dark gift, you say goodbye to your sex life.
*Wow he's a hell of a kisser. He melts right into my kiss. He wants me. Of course he wants me. And I want him* Brian? thinks. Such arrogance, such self-love, he'd make a perfect vampire.
I start to explore his body with my hands; he's sculpted beautifully. Armand would love this body, but he'd rather paint it than touch it. He's running his hands all over me, and I'm getting that feeling again. It's coming from deep within me. I want him. I have to have him. But can I? I need to tell him.
"Brian," I manage to say between kisses and gropes.
"Hmmm?" he moans, and looks at me. There is a fire in his eyes, such desire. But, he'll wait. He'll wait as long as it takes me, and this is uncharacteristic of him. I wonder why he's being so patient.
*I'm worried. I never wait this long for a trick to get ready. By this time, we're usually starting round two. But he's different. He's gorgeous. But he's got a fire inside him. The way he was standing there, completely confidant. The way he kisses, with such desire. But why is he holding back?*
He's doesn't even know why he's being so patient. I pull him over to the bed and we sit down.
"Brian, I'm sure I'll be able to do what you ask," I say.
"Sure you can," he replies. "You want me, don't you?"
"Of course I do. It's just that I'm not human, and I don't know if I can," I blurt out, realizing, too late, what I had just done.
"What do you mean?" he asks, looking at me as if to try to decide if I'm lying.
I bare my fangs and say, "I'm a vampire."
Author: Jen Imparato Archive: Yes to ATP, anyone else, email me. Pairing: Brian/Michael Featuring: Lestat, Louis, & Armand Rating: R Status: New Email address: vampirejen@comcast.net Disclaimers: Characters are the property of Showtime and CowLip productions. Vampires are property of Anne Rice. Spoilers: None Notes: Part 3 of QAF/Vampire Chronicles Crossover fiction. If you've read or seen Interview With The Vampire, you'll know the characters I'm using. The first 2 parts are mostly QAF, this part is entirely from Lestat's point of view. Thank You: To everyone that pre-beta'd this story when it was in the beginning stages, and those who reviewed the finished product. And most of all, to the QAF-BrianandMichael group, for giving me that extra little push to start this project and continue it.
I notice him as soon as he walks into the club. He walks with a confidence that is rare in mortals. He struts up to the bar and downs two double shots as he scans the dance floor; it looks as if he's played this role before. *"A whole new ball game,"*, I read in his thoughts. So, he has played the role before, just not around here. I notice him spot me., *"I have to have him,"*, I hear from his mind. Yeah, he wants me. And why wouldn't he?, I'm an attractive vampire who portrays one hell of a hot mortal. He's walking this way. I scan his thoughts; he's got more going on in his mind than my last four victims combined. He's Pittsburgh's hottest stud, but he left. He always gets his trick... I, Lestat De Lioncourt, am no trick. However, this Brian is quite attractive. I think I'll play along.
He comes up behind me, and taps me. I turn, and the look on his face is priceless. He looks at me the way most mortals look at me, stunned by my beauty. "Lestat," I offer, knowing that if I don't say something, he'd probably continue to stare. He's a bit confused at first, but then he smiles and regains himself. I ask him to dance, and then I see it, his smirk of confidence. He agrees to dancing, promising that we have the whole night for "other things." Yeah, he's going to be fun. I know what he's thinking, but I play along. "Other things?" I question. He smiles. "You'll see," and we dance towards the center of the floor. So, he likes to be the center of attention. I can do that. I knew, as soon as we started dancing, that he was no ordinary mortal. This Brian is everything that I am, without fangs. He's a predator. I can tell by that way he was looking at me while he was walking toward me. I can tell by the way he's looking at me now, like he's captured his prey. This is going to be fun.
"You're not from around here, are you?" I ask, trying to see how much he will open up to me and how much I'm going to have to rely on my power of mind(-)reading to tell me.
"No," he answers. Short and sweet. I figure he might go on, but he doesn't. His arms rest on my shoulders as he pulls me closer.
"So, where are you from?"
"Pittsburgh, why?" he replies, somewhat confused that I'm actually talking to him.
I look into his eyes, and for a moment I'm struck by his beauty. His eyes tell his story. He's here because he had to get away. He's in love, but afraid. Someone he loved, or at least thought he loved, hurt him. He never believed in love before this young man, this Justin. So he has a thing for blondes. But there is someone else in his thoughts, someone he tries to push back. This person must be the cause of his fear.
"Just wondering, didn't you ever hold a conversation with anyone you met in Pittsburgh?"
"Yeah, I guess. It just didn't involve much more than 'your place or mine?'" he says, thinking back on the last night he went dancing in Pittsburgh.
While we dance, all eyes are on us. I love it, and I can tell that he does too. It won't be long before he motions to make an exit. I'd seen this scene run through his mind many times from the club he used to frequent in Pittsburgh.
"Babylon," he says, literally out of nowhere.
"Huh?" He catches me off guard, and this is truly a first. Normally I can field a question before it's ever asked.
"You were asking about Pittsburgh. Well Babylon is the club I used to go to every night. Everyone on Liberty Avenue knows who Brian Kinney is; I'm nearly a celebrity there," he says. The look in his eyes tells me that he has no idea why he is telling me all this.
"Then why would you leave? If everyone knew you, and I'd assume everyone wanted you, why would you willingly walk away?" I ask, knowing that he won't tell me the exact truth.
"Change of scene. I've had nearly everyone on Liberty Ave. It was time to move on," he replies.
He really looks like he believes himself. Little does he know that I can read the truth. He left because of the love for his best friend. Why isn't he thinking the name? Is he afraid of admitting the truth? Whatever Justin did, it hurt Brian's outlook on love more than he'll ever admit.
"But it's all behind me now. Let's get out of here," he says, pulling me through the crowd.
Once outside, he looks lost. I guess he figured it would look like Liberty Avenue.
"What's wrong, Brian?"
"Nothing. I'm staying at the Astor Crowne Plaza if you'd like to come back with me," he says, smiling at me.
"How did you get here?"
"I took a cab. I haven't driven around the French Quarter long enough to know my way around in a drunken stupor." As he speaks, a glimmer of sadness flashes across his face.
"Okay, I'll get us a taxi," I say.
*Why is this guy being so nice to me? Why does he care where I'm from or why I'm here? I never had a trick actually talk to me, well, except for Justin. But was Justin ever really just a trick? Can't think about him. But Lestat, he's beautiful. He's not Mikey, but he's beautiful. He's got to be amazing in bed* Brian thinks as he watches me hail a cab.
"Come on Brian, this cab is going our way," I yell, pulling Brian out of his thoughts.
In the cab, we don't talk very much. Brian is lost in his thoughts about Pittsburgh and Mikey. He is trying to forget what he left behind and concentrate on what is here and now. He wasn't counting on me. He's never held a conversation with a trick. I still hate that word. I want to know more about this man. He wants more from me than I can give him. Now I know what drew me to this mortal. He reminds me of how my beloved Louis made me feel. Louis left me because I couldn't give him everything he wanted, or everything he thought I should be able to.
"We're here," Brian says, pulling on my arm. "Are you coming? Or going?" Brian smiles as he recalls another time where he said something similar.
"I'm coming," I reply, getting out of the cab and paying the driver.
"You didn't have to do that; I could have paid him," Brian says, smiling.
"I know, but I wanted to. Haven't you ever heard of southern hospitality?" I ask, flashing the irresistible grin that makes Brian want to melt.
He opens the door to his room, on the sixth floor, with a wonderful view of the never-ending festivities of Bourbon Street. He motions to the bed and tells me to make myself comfortable as he kicks off his shoes.
I sit down on the end of the bed and watch Brian as he takes his clothes off. He is beautiful. He turns to look at me, I stand and walk to meet him half way across the room.
"You're still dressed," he says, grinning.
"Why yes, I am," I reply, he thinks I'm playing hard to get. How can I tell this beautiful man that I can't do what he wishes? At least I don't think I can.
"Why is that?" he says, taking the hem of my shirt in his hands and pulling it over my head.
"Brian, I'm not sure you want to go through with this. I'm not what you think I am," I say, hoping he gets mad and throws me out. But he doesn't. He looks at me, like he understands.
*First time? Could be straight? No, too attractive to be straight. Bisexual? No. He's gay. First time in a long time? I don't care, I have to have him.* I hear from his mind.
He unbuttons my pants and pushes them down and helps me step out of them, leaving my underwear on. He's a predator, but he's not going to take something the other party isn't willing to give.
*Don't leave. I'm giving you the chance to leave. The chance I didn't have my first time. I won't hurt you. I can be gentle. Give me a chance, I know you won't regret it. Hundreds of gay men in Pittsburgh can't be wrong* He's thinking, and I believe him. But, can I? It's been a long time, centuries.
"Kiss me, Brian," I say, breathless, just thinking about what this man wants to do to me.
"Now that's what drew me to you., I could tell you've got aggression in your blood," he says, and takes me in his arms and kisses me. His mouth devours mine; he's incredibly talented with his tongue. He hands roam everywhere else on my body he can reach. I start to feel something I never felt before, but it's hard to describe. I wanted him, but I was still afraid that everything I've ever read or been told is true, that once you accept the dark gift, you say goodbye to your sex life.
*Wow he's a hell of a kisser. He melts right into my kiss. He wants me. Of course he wants me. And I want him* Brian? thinks. Such arrogance, such self-love, he'd make a perfect vampire.
I start to explore his body with my hands; he's sculpted beautifully. Armand would love this body, but he'd rather paint it than touch it. He's running his hands all over me, and I'm getting that feeling again. It's coming from deep within me. I want him. I have to have him. But can I? I need to tell him.
"Brian," I manage to say between kisses and gropes.
"Hmmm?" he moans, and looks at me. There is a fire in his eyes, such desire. But, he'll wait. He'll wait as long as it takes me, and this is uncharacteristic of him. I wonder why he's being so patient.
*I'm worried. I never wait this long for a trick to get ready. By this time, we're usually starting round two. But he's different. He's gorgeous. But he's got a fire inside him. The way he was standing there, completely confidant. The way he kisses, with such desire. But why is he holding back?*
He's doesn't even know why he's being so patient. I pull him over to the bed and we sit down.
"Brian, I'm sure I'll be able to do what you ask," I say.
"Sure you can," he replies. "You want me, don't you?"
"Of course I do. It's just that I'm not human, and I don't know if I can," I blurt out, realizing, too late, what I had just done.
"What do you mean?" he asks, looking at me as if to try to decide if I'm lying.
I bare my fangs and say, "I'm a vampire."