Disclaimer: Please don’t sue. I don’t own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul various degrees of slash. One word prompts based on body parts, most parts but the one you really want.

Warning(s): slash (that’s homosexual content for those of you who don’t know)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Long hiatus again for no apparent reason besides life. I don’t know what that says about my life that it can just take me away from fanficiton like that. Not the best of situations, that’s for certain.

Story note: these are pretty long though as an apology (all I do is apologize to you guys).

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Human Anatomy

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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The first time Raoul saw Erik’s deformity had been in pitch blackness, a darkness so deep that even Erik had admitted he couldn’t see. In retrospect, Raoul realized that he had planned it that way more for his good than Raoul’s own. That way, he wouldn’t be able to see his reaction if, or rather when, he did react.

It was the first time that Raoul had been given permission to touch the older man. Erik had many rules: no interrupting while he was playing the organ, no visiting Christine before or directly after a performance, no speaking to the managers about them, no trying to find him when he obviously didn’t want to be found. A lot of things Raoul was forbidden to do. The biggest rule however, was that Raoul was never allowed to touch Erik.

Of course they touched. It was rather inconceivable for them to be in such a relationship and not touch each other, but Raoul was simply receiving, a passive participant in all their physical engagements. Erik had been quite explicit about that particular rule.

Erik initiated all contact.

Raoul couldn’t reach out to touch him. He couldn’t kiss back with the passion he felt; he could only follow Erik’s pace, and if he did respond too eagerly, Erik would simply disappear. Raoul couldn’t even put a hand on the older man’s shoulder without reprimand, and that first reprimand had been so terrible that there hadn’t been a second.

Simply put, Raoul wasn’t allowed to reciprocate the way he wanted, the way every instinct of his body and mind told him to respond.

And after all the time that had passed, all the daydreams about being finally able to touch the somehow still mysterious man, Raoul was quickly coming to the realization that his imaginings hadn’t been able to skim the surface of what touching Erik would be like. He was simply glad that he’d long since made the decision that when the opportunity arose, he’d take it slow and memorize how it felt to touch him.

So, when Erik grabbed his hand and proceeded to drag him down stairs he hadn’t known existed, through tunnels that looked as though they hadn’t been used in years, and across cavernous rooms that echoed their steps and chilled Raoul to the bones so that all he could do is shiver as his only anchor in such a strange environment was the equally cold hand gripping his own, Raoul was glad that he hadn’t needed to think anything else but take your time when Erik finally did stop and bring his trapped hand up with a harsh order to touch him.

Raoul’s hand hovered in the air uncertainly. He wasn’t even certain his eyes were open in such a darkness, didn’t know if Erik was still indeed in front of him. All he could tell was that in the absence of his vision, he could distinctly feel himself. His skin was more sensitive, as though the cold had enveloped him, a second skin upon his own. His ears picked up sounds he was certain he shouldn’t be able to hear – at least, once he could focus on something other than his own breathing and heartbeat. There were the phantom noises of animals he didn’t even want to begin to think of and thankfully, no sound of footsteps walking away. He could smell the dank rock that surely surrounded them completely and taste the stale air.

He moved his hand a fraction forward, and immediately felt Erik’s mask. The cold porcelain, an image easily brought forth in his mind, was the only beacon his eyes, though currently useless, could focus on.

“Go ahead,” Erik’s disembodied voice roughly prompted.

Raoul didn’t allow himself to hesitate. He moved with deliberate slowness, using all his fingers to lightly caress the cold unforgiving material he so often had to face. He could almost feel Erik’s tension through it, feel what lay beneath. Once his fingers found the edge of the mask, he raised his other hand to join in his perusal. He was able to easily find the smooth cheek he’d always wanted to touch. He rested the palm of his hand against Erik’s cheek, his thumb slowly stroking the corner of Erik’s lip. The complete image of Erik’s face filtered in through the darkness, making the mask before him less frightening. There was a man beneath that mask. Raoul knew that. He just sometimes forgot. He forgot because he couldn’t reach out and touch that man.

With that thought, Raoul forced himself to imagine the rest of Erik’s body. There was a man, a person beneath his fingers.

It was simply pathetic that Erik was more real now in the darkness than in the candlelight, than in the light of day. He was more substantial when the only image Raoul could see was the one summoned by his mind.

Still slightly afraid of reprimand, Raoul paused before he bravely took the next step and removed the mask. He almost flinched when Erik took it from him – as though Erik had known Raoul wouldn’t have taken the time to put it down in fear that Erik would decide in that short time to leave. He didn’t voice his appreciation, knowing that any sound would snap the tension that hung between them and he would lose this chance.

Raoul let his fingers fill in the image he feared he would never be able to see. As gently as he could, he skimmed the uneven surface that was Erik’s skin, his right hand keeping Erik’s face in place while being used as a basis of comparison. Erik’s breathing was unsteady and Raoul actually wished he could see, wished that he knew whether the leathery skin and varied gouges were blood red or a dull yellow.

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his own breath until he was forced to exhale. His fingertips tingled, over-sensitized because of the cold, because of the loss of his sight, because this was Erik he was finally touching; Raoul wasn’t sure why. Slowly, he touched, mapping the lines of his love’s face until the image was burned in his mind, until it wasn’t the phantom standing before him. He touched and memorized until all that was left was Erik standing before Raoul.

And when it was just them, he touched until touch became an adoring caress, until Erik stilled Raoul’s hands with his own and closed the distance between them.

o.o fingertips o.o (wc:1,073)

Erik nudged Raoul. The only response he received was a groan before that weight settled upon him again.

He was having a little difficulty breathing, what with Raoul laying half atop him. Admittedly, he’d easily fallen asleep in this position, but after the whole night, Erik was beginning to lose feeling on the left half of his body, notably, the half that Raoul was sprawled over, though ‘sprawl’ might be too generous a word.

“Raoul,” Erik whispered, not quite sure if he should be annoyed that Raoul had managed to spend the whole night asleep in the same position. Erik did have to admit it was better than when he moved in his sleep. Then again, since they were sleeping in Erik’s home tonight, there wouldn’t have been any other way to sleep; there was no space to move around.

But, considering this was the third night in a row that Erik was waking up with half of his body numb, he was beginning to think that this was all part of some elaborate ploy of Raoul’s to make getting rid of the coffin Erik’s own idea. Which it wasn’t.

Raoul had brought it up once. After telling him that ‘one has to get used to everything in life, even to eternity,’ Raoul had made a pained expression and never thought to bring it up again. Instead, that evening had been the first time Raoul snuck into his bedroom and climbed into the coffin with him. There had been many wayward elbows and knees in sensitive places at first, but they’d eventually managed to find a position they could both comfortably sleep in, relatively speaking.

At the time, Erik hadn’t been able to question Raoul’s intentions. The blonde had been so adamant on staying the night that words had simply failed him. There had been a look in Raoul’s eyes that even the darkness of his home hadn’t been able to hide completely. Erik could still picture the look in his mind’s eye and no matter how many times he tried to determine what that look meant, he couldn’t. Worry perhaps. Fear? But not of Erik, for him instead. It had been as though climbing into that coffin had actually physically pained Raoul, and yet, he could do nothing but climb in. To this day, Erik still hadn’t questioned him.

Raoul’s breathing had changed, and Erik took a deep breath, straining to look down to watch the blonde head using his chest as a pillow rise and fall as well. It wasn’t so hard to imagine that same expression there now even though Erik hadn’t seen it since that first time.

Or, he’d stopped looking because he couldn’t stand to see Raoul look like that.

“Raoul,” Erik pressed his head back down onto the padding, staring at the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lid of the coffin. “I’ll get rid of it.”

“Get rid of what?” Raoul’s answer was immediate though his voice was still a little rough with sleep.

“The coffin.”

There was a pause before Raoul asked, “Why?”

And Erik was convinced that he was indeed confused about their topic of conversation. “I…” he actually hesitated. Instead, he asked, “Why have you been sleeping here?”

At the question, Raoul lifted his head, moving so that they could look each other in the eyes; the pressure on Erik’s chest eased. He tilted his head, his lips pressed together in worry. “I…” Erik could see his cheeks tinged red, “I wanted… Do you want me to go?” He asked plaintively.

Erik sighed in exasperation and even with Raoul off him, he felt his breathing just as constricted. “No,” he said a little too forcefully; Raoul had flinched at his tone of voice even while he looked relieved at his response. Erik’s voice was even when he continued, “I just want to know why this is the third night you’ve slept here.”

Erik’s hand strayed to Raoul’s face, fingers trying to smooth the worry lines away.

Raoul leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a brief moment before giving him a tentative smile. He answered as though it should be obvious, “Because you’ve been sleeping here.” The question where else should I sleep? remained unspoken.

“Oh” was the only response Erik could think to say, blinking owlishly. It was then that Erik realized he had been sleeping more and more at the Chagny estate and whenever he slept at the opera house, Raoul was always there with him.

Outright smiling at him now, Raoul turned to kiss Erik’s hand before laying back down.

Erik closed his eyes, taking a deep breath again; Raoul’s solid presence was less burdensome than before.

o.o chest o.o (wc:787)

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End Chapter 06

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A/N: Don’t forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Fingertips gave me a major plotbunny of blind!Raoul, and can you imagine all the kinds of awesome that fic would produce? At that length, I could’ve made it its own story – yeah, 1000 is usually my oneshot minimum, but I decided it would remain.

‘Chest’ started out very different and wanted to be more of a oneshot as well, so I had to reconfigure it. It’s more aww-worthy as is right now. Raoul all making Erik get used to his presence from now until eternity. :)