In the Closet

By Auden

Warning: This spec contains sexual situations between adults of the same sex.

Louis Point Du Lac tapped gently on the door of the airing cupboard, leaning close to the the wooden-slatted door as he called through it:

"Lestat? Are you in there?" There was a pause before the familiar voice responded:

"Yes Louis? Did you want something?"

"David's arrived. I thought you might want to see him," Louis suggested hopefully. Another pause.

"Ah well, I very much regret that I will not have the time," Lestat said eventually, still inside the closet. "Tell him I said hello."

"Very well." Louis turned back to face the other occupant of the living room who was regarding him with an astonished look. "Lestat's busy right now," he said calmly, "but he asked me to say 'hello' for him."

"Yes, I heard." David took Louis' arm, leading him away from the door to the airing cupboard before adding in a lowered voice: "Louis, what *is* he doing in there?"

"He's writing his latest book." Louis explained uncomfortably.

"In a closet?"

"It's a walk-in closet," Louis said defensively. "There's plenty of room."

David regarded the older vampire for a while. The whole coven knew that Lestat hadn't been the same since Memnoch and Louis' reticence on the subject had been one of the reasons he'd decided to see the Brat Prince for himself. He'd expected tears and recriminations. But this was a bit unusual. He adopted a reasonable tone:

"And how long has he been in the closet?"

"Um," Louis counted on his fingers. "I think about five...no...six... six weeks."

"Six weeks? In there?" David stared. "Aren't you the least bit worried, Louis?"

"Well it's more comfortable than the crypt," Louis pointed out fairly.

"Louis." David stopped and then began again. "Louis I think Lestat should seek professional help..."

"In the closet?"

"No! Not in the closet! He's hardly going to find a psychiatrist in there, is he?" David frowned at Louis. "Now I come to think of it maybe *both* of you should get help." He stood up. "I don't think this conversation is getting anyway. I'll come back later, Louis, and we can discuss this rationally."

Once David had gone, Louis walked back to the door to the airing cupboard and tapped again.

"Lestat?"

"Yes Louis?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, cher." Louis opened the door and stepped in side. There wasn't much room. The ironing board had been pushed up against the wall but the shelving on which the laundry was piled took up quite a lot of the room. Lestat was sitting on the floor, working on his lap-top. Louis sat down beside him. Lestat wasn't writing at all, he was playing mine-sweeper. Louis watched the screen for a while before looking at Lestat.

"I thought you were working."

"Writers block," Lestat confessed. "And I had cramp in my leg."

"Which one?"

"This one," Lestat stretched out a long leg and Louis began to massage it almost absent-mindedly.

"Guess what David said," he asked Lestat.

"What?"

"He said you should look for a psychiatrist." Lestat looked around consideringly. His blue-violet eyes swept the neatly stacked bed-linen, the pile of coat-hangers, his computer. The ironing-board looked dangerously unbalanced, he reached out and settled it before it could fall on Louis.

"I can't see one," he said finally. "Is it some kind of joke? Prospect far enough into the closet and you find a shrink?"

"I don't know." Louis shrugged. "More likely you'd find a lion and a witch."

"You should read something other than children's books for a change," Lestat reprimanded him.

"I read Playboy last week," Louis pointed out.

"Playboy?" Lestat shook his head. "And people say *I'm* in the closet."

"Lestat, you *are* in the closet. In *this* closet." Louis said severely.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal," Lestat protested, finally shutting down the computer. "Armand and Daniel spend most of this century in closets, when we were living on the Night Island it got so bad that you couldn't open one of them without them falling out."

"Logic dictates that they could only occupy one, or possibly two, closets at any one time."

"And that's another thing, you shouldn't watch so many Star Trek re-runs," Lestat criticised.

"We all have our vices," Louis pointed out. "I wonder when David will realise that?"

"I thought he'd have tumbled to it when Maharet started enacting her own personal bondage fantasy," Lestat mused. "Or when Marius showed him his stamp collection - 'It that must be kept'."

"Or when Jesse stage-dived at the Cure Concert."

"And the Guns n Roses concert..."

"....and the Meatloaf concert."

"We all have our little quirks," Lestat said. "David will just have to adjust."

"I did," Louis said with a slight smile.

"Indeed you did," Lestat agreed. "I've lost count of the times I've had to say 'he's just going through a phase'. The melancholy wasn't that bad compared to the chocolate fixation."

"Lestat, I thought we'd agreed to forget that," Louis said in a wounded tone of voice.

"Maybe you can forget forcing a rugby-player to eat twenty-pounds of hershy-kisses before you would consent to drain him, but I can't," Lestat said sarcastically.

"Lestat!" Louis glared at him. "If you're just going to criticise me I'll leave."

He got up and left, slamming the door behind him. But it didn't take long for him to cool down. He was wondering whether to return or not when the doorbell rang. Louis answered it. David was standing outside, grinning.

"What is it now?" Louis sighed. "Have you come to tell me you've found a psychiatrist for Lestat?"

"No, I forgot about that." David looked slightly guilty. Then he cheered up again. "I found a tattoo parlour just down the road..."

"Not another one," Louis averted his eyes, unwilling to see the latest in David's tattoo and piercing collection. "How many times do I have to tell you? You've got *this* body for life!"