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

Summary: Raoul's a nice guy. He's about to find out that Erik can be nice too. ErikRaoul slash fic. That was a really stupid summary. It's okay though, I think it's a good fic. Come on it's slash!

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: evil laughter…. Hahahaha I finally have my internet working. It's a beautiful thing. In celebration. Here's a fic!

AU since the time off. It's sometime before the end of the musical? Characters are major OOC. You know, I just can't write them in character. Maybe next time, again. I don't know if this will be one-shot or whatever. We'll see at the end of the story.

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I guess it's okay to be a nice guy

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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--Raoul's POV--

I sat on the ledge staring at the ground, my legs dangling over the edge of the Opera House's rooftop. Christine was supposed to meet me here, what? I pull out my watch and check the time for what seems like the hundredth time. Only two hours ago. It was well into the night since we were supposed to meet right after her performance.

I'm not sure why I'm still waiting up here in the cold weather – at least it stopped snowing, but it's probably because I don't want to go home to an empty house again. Philippe was out again on business, which left me completely alone in that large estate. I'm more or less used to it because Philippe is always out on business. I really do live there by myself. I look up at the night sky. It's a full moon and Paris is shining with an ethereal glow.

I sigh. It's beautiful, but it only makes me wish I were back at our house by the sea. The ocean is amazing, and life there is less complicated. It was also less cold. The full moon and stars reflected on the ocean creates an astounding image, multiplying the effect a thousand times over.

My thoughts wander back to Christine. She was probably amidst her fans outside her room. Once Madame Giry left her alone to deal with them, she found out that she actually liked the attention. She was just probably flirting with the bunch. I'm not bitter. No, not at all. I'm just up here in the cold, by myself.

Or even better, she's probably with her angel, the Phantom of the Opera.

I sigh again. I can't help myself. I'm certain of it though. I'm certain nice guys always finish by themselves in the end. They end up alone. They don't get the girl. Too bad, I'm a nice guy.

I thought Christine loved me back, but I guess I'm not dangerous enough for her. Of course, she would love the dark, mysterious singing teacher than the plain Vicomte. I think I would have to be continually praising her or even just killing people for her to pay as much attention to me as she does that Phantom.

Nice guy, right? She wants that intrigue, that danger, that mystery. I can't offer her that. What can I offer her besides my love and my money? Nothing. I could push her off this freaking freezing rooftop if she really wanted danger, but I don't think she'd appreciate it as much as the type of danger her angel provided her. Too bad though because as time wears on the idea is becoming more and more attractive.

I'm beginning to accept the truth though and I think I'll give up on Christine. Her fans and her angel can fight over her. I thought I loved her. I thought I would die for her. I would have gone to the ends of the world for her, if only she asked. Maybe I was just in love with the idea of being in love. Whenever I saw her, I was reminded of the childhood crush I used to have on her. Little Lotte was someone with whom I could share my dreams of the future. Our dreams are so far apart now, that I don't think I ever really got to know her as Christine the adult. She will always be Little Lotte whenever I see her.

It was pointless to waste so much energy on her, but truth be told, Christine had been the only woman I found marginally appealing. Philippe had been pushing me to find a wife and no woman I ever saw appealed to me at all. I was almost repelled by them. They all reminded me of someone like Carlotta, and that's something I wouldn't wish on any man. If I had to marry, then at least I would like to be able to stand the sight of her. Christine was the only woman I could really stand being in the same room.

Too bad nice guys finish alone in the world.

I try to move to relieve some of the stiffness I feel in my joints but it hurts to move.

I may also still be waiting here, I think ironically to myself, because I'm just frozen in place. I rub my near numb hands together and blow into them, trying to warm them up. I think my butt has frostbite. Just think of the headlines in the papers, new statue atop the Opera House resembling the patron of the establishment. In other news, same patron has gone missing; police are baffled by lack of clues. At the thought, I can't help but laugh aloud.

--Normal POV--

"Have you finally gone insane, Vicomte?" a familiar voice commented from behind Raoul. When he had arrived about an hour ago, the Phantom had been surprised at seeing Raoul on the rooftop. He had come here for the explicit reason of escaping everything that was related to the Opera House, yet Raoul was up here. He had been annoyed at first, but seeing that Raoul was just sitting there minding his own business, he couldn't just push the boy off the building unprovoked. Well, he could have, but he just didn't have the heart to do it. As time wore on, he was certain the Vicomte was just going to die because of the cold. He could see the boy shivering.

Raoul was going to turn around, but the faculties to do so would not allow it. He was freezing cold and was chagrined at not having noticed it earlier.

"Ah," the blonde figured why not enjoy what little company was available. Either way, the phantom could just decide to push him off the building and the Vicomte wouldn't be able to stop him really. So, Raoul figure he may as well be civil, "Monsieur OG, please take a seat."

Erik was taken aback by the statement, but he too figured he could just push the Vicomte off the building if the blonde vexed him. Raoul was a little surprised when he didn't find himself falling off the building of the Opera House, but it was a pleasant surprise at seeing the Phantom sit to the right of him. The night was silent as they both stared at the sight before them. Raoul could barely see the porcelain mask he knew to be on the other's face. With this view, he could forget that they had been rivals and that the other had faced hardships he could scarcely imagine.

"So, are you going to answer my question?" Erik broke the silence. He didn't know why he was being so civil, but he thought it would become clearer as time moved on.

"Question?" Raoul was confused for a moment, "Oh, 'have I gone insane?' I do not see why you would think it."

Raoul shivered involuntarily. He rubbed his arms, but that was not working too well. He should have worn a thicker coat, but then again in his defense, he thought he would be inside an Opera House.

Erik noticed, and felt a little worried for the blonde. He tried to ignore the concern though. "You have been waiting on this rooftop without any appropriate apparel for the snow, for what appears to be since the end of the opera, presumably for Christine who does not appear to be leaving her entourage any time soon. Then, to compound against your case, you must be talking to yourself since you seem to have found something quite amusing, amusing enough to laugh aloud. Did I miss anything?"

Raoul laughed again. He felt at ease with the Phantom even though the history they shared. He hadn't realized that the Phantom had such a wicked wit. "You missed the fact that I am rather defenseless though I am on the territory of my ex-rival."

The phantom wondered at the phrase 'ex-rival'.

But before he could say anything about it, Raoul continued, "However, you are mistaken. I had not been talking to myself. I was just thinking about my predicament."

"You're predicament?"

"Well, I had been thinking things over since there's nothing one can really do for two hours on a rooftop besides think. I had been wondering why I was still waiting for Christine. You had been correct about that part."

"And have you come to a conclusion?" Erik was beginning to get really worried for Raoul. His lips were beginning to have a light blue tinge to them, and he was shivering though Erik was sure he didn't realize it.

"I came to the conclusion that the Opera House may just have another statue by the end of the night. In my honor of course." Raoul turned to face the Phantom with a mischievous grin.

Erik couldn't help but laugh. The sound was like music to Raoul's ears. The blonde wondered if he could make the Phantom make the sound again.

He realized he didn't know the man's name, and it was becoming quite irritating for him to keep referring to him as the Phantom. It was much too dramatic. "What is," Raoul faltered when he felt the Phantom's cloak being wrapped around his shoulders. The Phantom's hands at the blonde's throat clasping the cloak firmly in place, made the blood rise to Raoul's face. "Th-thank you," the blonde stuttered. He felt warmer, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the cloak. "But aren't you going to get cold?"

"I'll be fine. I'm used to the cold weather."

Raoul was amazed at how nice the Phantom had been acting. He may be dark and brooding, but maybe he was a nice guy too.

"What were you going to ask?" Erik was pleased to see that Raoul was shivering less and the color was returning to his skin, but he wanted to force him to go inside just to be on the safe side. He wasn't sure why he was being so nice, but Raoul was not being threatening. He just remembered something, "Then I'll ask you a question."

"Okay. I was going to ask you what your name is." the Vicomte suddenly wasn't so sure he should have asked when the Phantom became silent. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he added hastily.

"No, no," Erik said, "It's just a difficult question. There's no one to really call me by a name."

"Oh," Raoul was confused, "does Christine always call you angel then?"

Erik scoffed, "Mlle. Daae thinks me to be the angel of music sent by her father, so she doesn't want a name."

"Do you have a name?"

"Madame Giry sometimes calls me Erik."

"Erik," Raoul tested the feel of the name, "I like it. It just fits somehow."

Erik had never really preferred being called one thing over another, but hearing his name fall from the blonde's lips was enough to convince he never wanted to be called anything else in his life again, at least by the Vicomte.

Raoul shifted with great effort so that only one leg hung over the ledge and he faced Erik fully. Erik looked at him in confusion. Raoul extended his hand and said, "I do not believe we've been properly introduced yet. Hello, I am Raoul. I am pleased to meet you."

Erik grinned at the blonde's behavior, but grasped the offered hand firmly in a shake. He was once again worried when he felt the hand so cold, but replied, "I am Erik. I, too, am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Raoul reluctantly released the surprisingly warm hand but remained facing the Phantom. "Your question?"

Erik had to try harder to concentrate once those gold eyes were focused on him, "I was going to ask what you meant by ex-rival earlier."

"Oh," that Raoul looked down and pulled the cloak around him tighter. He realized belatedly that it smelled like Erik, like roses. "I am releasing Christine from any of her obligations towards me. I have come to the realization that nice guys finish alone in this world." At seeing the confused look on Erik's face, he continued, "Nice guys don't get the girls. Christine does not want someone who is just nice and plain such as I am. She wants some mystery and intrigue. She wants danger and darkness. She wants you, and I will not prevent her from achieving what she wants."

Erik wasn't sure if all of what Raoul said was true, but he did notice that what he said about nice guys was almost the truth. Most women didn't want the sure thing. He knew Christine was inexplicably attracted to him even though she knew nothing of him. Too bad, he was no longer sure he wanted her. "Why the change of heart?"

"I came to the conclusion that I never really loved her. It's as simple as that. So, you can have her."

Erik laughed again, and Raoul looked up quickly to catch the sight. The sound made him smile. It filled him with a warmth that could combat against the cold of the night.

When Erik stopped laughing, he said, "I do not think she wants me either. I waited an hour in her room before I realized she wasn't going to talk to me. I came up here to think, and I think we reached the same conclusion about her."

"What?" Raoul asked with a glint in his eyes, "You want to push her off this roof, too?"

Erik laughed again. He hadn't laughed (not maniacally at least) this much since, well, since ever. Raoul seemed to bring the best out of him. He noticed Raoul shiver again. "You shouldn't be sitting out here for so long. It's not good for your health. Let's go inside." Erik stood up and moved behind Raoul to help him down. He was certain the blonde's joints would be too stiff, and he didn't want him to fall off the building accidentally. He briefly wondered when the change of heart occurred, but brushed the thought aside.

"I guess we should go," Raoul tried to pull his other leg onto the ledge. He felt Erik supporting his back, so he leaned a little so that he could pull his leg up with the proper leverage. He managed to lift his leg, but the dead weight it provided threw him off balance, and he fell backwards.

Luckily for him, Erik had managed to catch him so he didn't hit his head, but since he had been caught off guard, he fell on his ass with his arms wrapped tightly around the Vicomte's waist who had fallen snugly on his lap.

"Ow," the blonde said. He had dug his face into the juncture between Erik's neck and shoulder. The warm breath teased the bared skin, and Erik was certain that the weather suddenly became all too hot.

"Are you," Erik subconsciously held the blonde tighter. He didn't know what he was thinking before when he thought the blonde was cold. The blonde in his arms was emanating enough heat to melt all the snow around them, "are you hurt?"

Raoul slowly pulled away from Erik. The arms around his waist stayed firmly in place, and he couldn't help but blush at their position. They were sitting on the roof with Erik's arms around his waist as he sat between the other's legs. He suddenly forgot why they were going to leave the rooftop. In fact, he wanted to stay in this place for the rest of his life with the smell of roses permeating every molecule of air that he breathed. It was so warm in Erik's arms that he just wanted to bury his head into the warm body again, but Erik had asked a question.

"No," the blonde looked up. Their faces were mere millimeters apart. He could feel the other's breathe on his face, "I-I'm fine."

Erik did not know when Raoul suddenly developed a stutter, but the extra air that brushed against his lips made them tingle. They were so close. He wanted to kiss him senseless, but he didn't know how the blonde would react.

Erik released the blonde's waist and saw the disappointment flash in the blonde's eyes. He quickly grabbed Raoul's hands and formed a cup around them with his own. Raoul was staring at Erik, wondering what he was doing. Never breaking eye contact, the Phantom brought their hands up towards his lips and breathed warm air into them.

"Do you know," Erik whispered, releasing Raoul's hands. Raoul placed his hands around Erik's shoulders while the Phantom returned his hands around the blonde's waist. He felt the blonde shiver in his arms again, and he smirked knowing that it wasn't from the cold this time, "there's another way to warm up in cold weather without going inside?"

The blonde had shuddered. He involuntarily arched his body against the warmth that Erik provided. Erik barely managed to suppress a moan. Their noses brushed briefly, as Raoul replied, "No, do you want to show me?"

"Yes," Erik breathed as he passionately kissed the blonde on his lap.

He pulled the blonde as close as he could so that the blonde had to straddle him. It felt unbelievably good to have the supple body flush against him. Raoul's hands found their way into his hair. Then, Erik felt the pressure as Raoul's hand traced the porcelain mask. He almost forgot that he had been wearing it. As long as Raoul wasn't pulling away with disgust, Erik didn't matter what he touched.

Erik pulled away when they had to breathe. Raoul leaned his cheek against Erik's unmarred cheek. Erik couldn't help but be proud of himself when he felt the cheek to be warm, instead of the cold it had been minutes earlier.

"That was nice," Raoul commented breathlessly.

"Yeah," Erik agreed, grinding himself against the other, "So, you're nice, huh?" He said suggestively. Raoul moaned loudly in his ear.

Erik could feel Raoul's smile, as he replied, "Seems you're very nice." Raoul continued the wonderful friction between them.

Raoul remarked breathlessly, "I guess it's okay to be a nice guy as long as there's someone just as nice finishing alongside with you."

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

Okay, that was it. A little weird double entendre there to close it off. I'm a little too giddy right now, so sorry about that. No lemon, just two really horny guys humping each other in the end. We'll just have to see the way the wind blows to see if that's a one-shot. Umm, yeah, that didn't turn out the way I had originally thought it would, but there it is anyway. Hoped you enjoyed.

Review!

Flamers will only be used to add more friction for the two lovers. I'm sure Erik and Raoul will appreciate you very much.