Title: The Surreal Truth
Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic. Midnight meetings and things finally go Raoul's way. I might have to say this is going to be a PWP. Didn't actually plan on that. Started off as just a character introspection bit but got way to the M rating side.
Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!
A/N: So, so sorry. I fell off the face of the planet and was suspended in time doing nothing but hoping for a way to get back to my computer to finish Pass Time. Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration but it's better than the truth. I've committed the worse sin against fanfiction writing (besides Mary-Sues)… I've lost interest in the fandom in the middle of writing a story. winces So, sorry. I mean it. I really don't know what happened at all. It just all left me one day and I couldn't bring myself to write anymore. cries I'm trying to get back on track. Really I am. I've forced myself to only listen to the POTO soundtrack and watch the movie like 2 times a day. It's a slow process but it's getting along. And as proof… here's a one-shot fic starring our favorite pairing Erik/Raoul. Please forgive me. I feel so bad for leaving you hanging.
The Surreal Truth
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt
Casting a long shadow in the setting sun, Raoul paced outside the burnt remains of the Opera Populaire. The walls still stood defiantly though parts of the ceiling had caved in. The air was crisp and a few people still loitered past him. They no longer bothered to wonder what he was doing there. He had come every night following the destruction of the opera house one week ago, pacing outside of the once great, twice cursed opera house.
Back and forth. Back and forth. The blonde paced. He absentmindedly alternated rubbing his wrists, not really realizing he was doing so. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, mussing it from its perfection. It was the same every night.
Christine had not wanted to go through with the marriage and he had been overjoyed. The kiss she had shared with the Phantom had burst the illusion he had had of her. After that ordeal, he truly saw her as she was and not as Little Lotte. And he also began to think that she started to really see him. He had taken a walk to think about everything that had happened, his mind returning to that night and his feet had brought him to the very same place. He would think the same thoughts, over and over again.
He was appalled to say the least. One would think the emotion would fade with his constant scrutiny, but it held fast.
He never realized... though he thought he should have known... it was impossible. Plain and simple, it was just impossible.
It never happened and he did not react that way.
He stopped pacing and sighed. There was no fighting it. He was simply in denial.
Every night, it came to this. He concluded that he was in denial but he couldn't help being that way. Part of him wanted to get over his denial but a bigger part wanted to wallow in it longer, probably forever.
Raoul pouted. It wasn't fair to learn something that important in a time of such stress. He guessed what they said about a person's true colors coming out when put to the test is true.
Here he was standing in front of the very place he was tested. The blonde wasn't quite sure if he had passed or failed it. That night of the performance of Don Juan Triumphant had been chaos. To say he had been under stress would be a gross understatement.
He hadn't been sleeping well. He hadn't been eating well. Christine was far from being composed herself which affected him. Of course, Raoul had been under stress.
He could blame it on stress at least.
Raoul couldn't help but flashback to what happened that night.
The audience had been so confused with the Phantom's opera. Don Juan Triumphant was very much different than most of the other operas that the Opera Populaire presented. Sitting in Box 5, the Vicomte had kept a close eye on Christine in every scene. He was tense. With officers practically in every opportune part of the theatre waiting to shoot the Phantom, he could barely suppress the fear and adrenaline racing through his body.
Once the Phantom had switched, he had known. He had recognized that voice; the voice that could steal your mind as well as your heart. He had been entranced for a moment before realizing their moment had come. He prayed that Christine would follow through with the plan. They would kill the Phantom and everything would return to normal.
Too bad it didn't end that way. What was normal anyway? The moment he arrived at the Opera Populaire, nothing had been normal.
Raoul started pacing again. The sun had gone down and the street was completely empty and dark; the only light was provided by the moon.
He had followed them. Followed them down, deep under the opera house to save Christine. How useless he had been. He had literally walked into the trap. He found himself tied to the portcullis quicker than he could react.
Raoul was ready to allow the denial to take over again. A large part of him wanted to be in denial.
Arms suddenly wrapped around his torso, effectively pinning his arms down. He couldn't move, could barely think. The pressure was tight, almost unbearable; any tighter and he wouldn't be able to breathe properly. What was worse was the heat he felt permeating through his back. He felt the porcelain mask cold against his neck for a brief moment confirming whom he thought had grabbed him. Just as suddenly as the arms had come around him, he was being pulled deep into the building and pushed deeper into the shadows.
His back was pressed against cold stone roughly. The cold contrast between stone wall and warm body startled him out of his stupor. He still couldn't see in the darkness though, his eyes not adjusting quickly enough. He tried to push the Phantom off, but strong hands gripped his wrists and held them above his head. He winced. There would be more bruises tomorrow. A warm body pressed his own flush against the wall.
He felt the warm air against his face when a rough whisper spoke, "You come every night, boy. I'm putting an end to this."
Raoul couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through his body. He was uncertain whether it was from anticipation or fear. It really didn't matter though.
Just like on that portcullis. The Phantom had been this close. He had been this helpless. He had felt his body betray him. He wanted to press tighter against the other man so badly. He had tried to but didn't get far.
This was his denial. This was the secret he had kept from himself. Raoul wanted to be this helpless. He wanted to be at the hands of the Phantom.
As lips roughly descended onto his, he knew that he wanted that too. He wanted that skilled tongue and the harsh nips to his neck. He wanted to be completely at the mercy of this man. The Phantom's hands had trailed their way down his chest, no longer holding Raoul's hands above his head, which were instead replaced by rope. Raoul distantly wondered when that had happened and what they were attached to, but that thought flew from his mind the moment the Phantom roughly ripped off his shirt.
That hot mouth was upon the bared skin in an instant. Raoul couldn't stop the moans and whimpers that came forth like song from his lips. He wondered where his pride had gone, but decided he would give up his pride if the Phantom kept touching him like he was doing at that moment.
Those artist's hands alternated between fluttered contact to forceful strokes. Raoul hadn't thought it possible but his body ached even more for the Phantom.
"Please," Raoul wasn't quite sure what he was begging for. Maybe more touches, more kisses, but definitely just more. He knew that the Phantom wouldn't listen to his pleas. He only received one kiss on his nightly visits. That one kiss in the beginning but it would be enough to set his body aflame with desire. He craved more. He wanted the Phantom to just take him already, but the insufferable man would move at his own pace. It was torturous for Raoul, but he knew that the Phantom probably wanted it that way.
So, he was surprised when the Phantom acquiesced and his lips moved from their place at the juncture of his neck and he kissed him. It wasn't as forceful as the first kiss but it was just as hungry and it set a slow burn throughout Raoul's body.
The Phantom's hand had been busy while he had kissed the Vicomte. He deftly loosened Raoul's trousers without once breaking contact.
Raoul was disappointed when they had to stop to breathe. He reluctantly pulled back even though his chest was heaving. The blonde was certain that he would gladly give up every breath in his body to be able die in such a manner. The Phantom had taken a step away from Raoul. He could see the outline of the Phantom's face, but wasn't sure what expression it held. The blonde was afraid that the Phantom would see his. He was afraid that the longing was not reciprocated though he felt that it was already a lost cause. He was afraid that he would be left hanging and helpless. He was afraid to be alone. He was afraid that the Phantom would stop kissing him and leave him forever.
What he wanted and why he wanted it were such a mystery to Raoul, but every night it came down to the same fact, he wanted to be with this phantom of the night. The first time it happened, Raoul was certain that he must have dreamt it even though he could not recall falling asleep. It had been so surreal. He could not recall a moment in his life when he had felt more alive. It hadn't felt like he had been in his own body. He had somehow made it back home. However, come night, he found himself on the opera house's doorstep once more and he had been surprised at himself. The second morning he found himself in anticipation of their next meeting. Then the morning after that, and so on. He wanted to say it was all physical. He had never felt what he felt in these midnight meetings, but that would be a lie. He wanted the man, the passion, not just the body.
However, in the seven days that had passed, he had yet to walk inside the building uninvited and search for the man himself even if the Phantom had yet to disappoint. He found himself waiting outside pondering this rather unexpected turn of events. So many questions plagued his mind, the priority of which involved Christine, the Phantom, and his sudden disinterest with the prima donna. His heart would always ache with the thought, but self-denial and avoidance are powerful tools. He would brush those thoughts aside and think of those happier times when life was less complicated. How could he ever admit to himself that he loved a shadow? A shadow that seemed to answer his heart's yearning every night.
Nevertheless, every night when they had finished, the phantom would leave just as quickly as he had appeared. Raoul would have time to think in the darkness alone. He would feel satisfied, saddened, and ashamed all in the same breath. He would stand on shaky legs and leave before the morning light appeared.
Their nights made the day more bearable. And now… now Raoul was afraid. Their trysts had just barely begun and now the Phantom grew tired of him already.
'I'm putting an end to this.' Those had been his words and Raoul tried to stare through the darkness to see exactly what the Phantom was thinking. The other man had stopped moving. He could feel his presence and see his outline but nothing more than a shadow amongst others. Raoul bit his already swollen lips. He was completely naked with his arms tied above his head. His shirt lay in tatters on the floor somewhere. The last he had felt, the Phantom had scarcely loosened his trousers. His own trousers had pooled at his feet. His body had cooled from their intermission and the stone was chilling. Some part of him tried to stay as still as possible in fear that he might scare the Phantom away but he could not suppress his shivering.
Why did the man have to be such a mystery?
The Phantom did not move a muscle. He did not speak, but that was to be expected. The Phantom never spoke whenever they had their meetings. 'Putting an end to this.' Why did he want him so much it hurt? Why did wanting him make him hurt? Raoul could feel tears beginning to form and he shut his eyes tightly.
A single drop slid slowly down his cheek. Raoul turned away for he was certain the Phantom would mock him now even though no words had ever passed between them before. All the blonde felt was warm breath on his cheek then a rough tongue lick the tear away. Raoul's breath caught in his throat.
A hand followed and cupping his cheek, turned his head forward. The kiss that followed warmed Raoul to the very marrow in his bones.
Instead of stopping the tears that flowed, Raoul felt something in him break. His chest hurt terribly at the thought of this being their last night. Unbidden, more tears silently made their way down his face. The Phantom paid them no heed and continued kissing Raoul until the blonde thought he would never be able to take a breath again. The Phantom pulled away though and began kissing down his neck. Raoul pressed his head against the wall. His body was once again in heat and he was torn between seeking the heat that the other man provided or trying to cool himself against the wall.
Fingers pressed into his mouth while the other hand gave his straining erection the attention it desired. Those hands were not smooth as most artists' should be, but rather the tough skin and calluses revealed the difficult life the Phantom had lived. It drove Raoul crazy with the friction it created. The Vicomte strained against his bonds but any sound that may have been emitted was muffled by the fingers the Phantom had inserted into his mouth. Not wanting to release so quickly, Raoul tried to concentrate on moistening those digits. His tongue swirled around them and he knew that he had gotten the Phantom's approval when the tormenting hand was replaced by the other's crotch grinding into his. The sweet friction tore a moan from deep within Raoul. All coherent thought that might've been residual had indeed left with that gyration.
Those fingers quickly left his mouth and headed downwards to prepare him for the eventual end of their night together. The Phantom bluntly pushed one finger in and slowly began pumping. Raoul couldn't help but whimper at the intrusion. It still hurt a bit. The Phantom was rarely gentle and never offered any solace but when Raoul found himself in another heated kiss, he barely noticed when the second finger entered.
The tears had stopped but Raoul was floundering between the heat that had pooled down in his belly and the pain he felt in his chest. He had never felt so frustrated in his entire life. He wanted to pretend that the Phantom wasn't just using him, wanted to believe it wasn't their last meeting, or at least, he would like to enjoy their last coupling together completely.
His prayers were answered when the Phantom pressed his fingers deep into Raoul and rubbed against a spot that made stars burst behind his closed lids and his body to arch tautly before cumming with a scream. He hadn't expected to cum. Some nights if he hadn't found release when the Phantom was through, Raoul would have to finish the task himself. With thoughts of a Phantom that was an attentive lover, he would cum.
All emotion left him with that release. His body was thrumming with so much pleasure that he did not have any room left for pain. His body felt as though it were floating on warm water. He sagged against the wall and was thankful he couldn't fall to the floor even though his legs provided no support to him. Distantly, he realized that the Phantom could well have left in that moment. The missing body against him would be reason enough to believe it to have occurred, but he heard the rustling of clothes and the ragged intakes of breath. At least Raoul had some confirmation that the Phantom was affected by their actions. A few moments later, that warm and now naked body pressed against his again.
He would have felt embarrassed when his penis quickly hardened once more at the mere touching of their bodies, but his whole body was tingling with pleasure so he just didn't care. He felt his leg being lifted up and something brush his anus. Compliantly, Raoul lifted his other leg and wrapped them around the Phantom's waist. The Phantom's hands gripped his hips supporting most of his weight before lowering him. The Phantom entered slowly and by the time he was fully in, Raoul was once again alert and completely erect.
This too was new. Those other nights the Phantom would push Raoul against the wall face first and with a cursory preparation, he would enter roughly and pound away until he was through.
Raoul wished he could place his hands around the Phantom's neck. The other man felt so good within him he didn't want the moment to end. The blonde was surprised when he was pushed against the wall and felt his hands being loosened from their bindings. He wondered briefly if all his wishes would come true this night. Once his hands were completely free, he placed them on the Phantom's shoulders but before he could try to react in any way, those rough hands were on his hips once more raising him up before roughly pulling him back down.
Raoul couldn't stop the loud moan that escaped from his lips. With his own moan, the Phantom once again stopped completely. Raoul could feel the Phantom's chest rise and fall quickly from the restraint it took to keep still.
He didn't know why but at that moment, he was thankful because he had never felt so complete in his life. Raoul experimentally ran his hands through the Phantom's hair. It was surprisingly silky. He tentatively reached to pull the mask away and was pleasantly surprised when he was allowed to. He received no sound or protest from the man. He had seen the man without the mask already but the Phantom was being so acquiescent with him tonight. The blonde suddenly feared that it was indeed the last time they would do this. It could be the only explanation of why everything had gone the way he had wanted it.
Gently holding the man's face between his hands, he stared through the darkness hoping to see the expression. The dark hid it too well but Raoul leaned forward to kiss the Phantom slowly. The Phantom responded immediately. Finishing, Raoul leaned close to the Phantom's ear and whispered 'okay.'
That was all the other man needed. The Phantom began with a slow rhythm. Raoul relished the feel of the friction between them. However, too soon for the blonde, the Phantom sped up. Raoul reached in front of himself and began pumping his own erection in rhythm.
Raoul couldn't handle the pressure building up within him any longer and came for the second time that night in a mind-blowing orgasm that he had yet to ever experience. He was certain that he blacked out for a few moments but he was roused when the Phantom moaned loudly as he came.
The Vicomte laid his head on the Phantom's shoulder thinking to rest for just a bit before leaving.
Raoul woke slowly. It was still dark, but he was fairly sure it was morning. He looked around his room briefly and was thankful for the heavy curtains he had bought for his room. He was not generally a morning person and the windows all faced the rising sun. The sunlight would have surely have risen him. He felt as though he had slept soundly, more soundly than he had been sleeping since he first came to Paris. He was also warm, surprisingly so. Usually in the mornings, he would have kicked off the blankets by then. He shrugged the thought off, wondering what could have made him so tired that he actually had slept well. He also wondered how he had even gotten home. He didn't remember going to bed.
Raoul stretched languidly but froze the moment his arm hit some body next to him. He turned to look but it was too dark to see anything clearly.
Yes, there was a body next to his, but he already knew that. The better question would be whose?
Said body turned over and reached out a hand to pull Raoul flush against him so that they were spooning. Had Raoul been a morning person, he would have reacted quicker, but instead he stayed perfectly still and wondered why it felt amazingly good to be held by this person. He felt his body relax almost immediately.
"Where do you think you're going?" a familiar voice asked.
Raoul stiffened, recognizing that voice immediately. The events of the previous night played though quickly, quite vividly in his mind.
This was it. The Phantom would end it. He would tell Raoul to never come by the Opera House again. He would say that he was a pathetic boy for allowing his body to be taken by the enemy.
He waited for the words to come, but after a few minutes, he began to wonder if the Phantom had fallen asleep again. Thinking the best solution to the problem would be leaving before any such rejection occurred, Raoul tried to extract himself from the Phantom's grip but if anything, the Phantom held onto him more strongly. Raoul felt trapped. He didn't want to hear those words. He didn't want to be so outrightly abandoned. He didn't think he could take it.
The Phantom shifted, somehow bringing Raoul even closer, "I'm not releasing you. There really is no reason to try."
"Please," Raoul whimpered while still trying to squirm away.
"You do realize," clearly amused, "we are in your room. Where exactly do you plan to run to?"
Raoul stopped struggling. That particular thought hadn't actually crossed his mind. It did lessen his panic a bit though. Prospects couldn't be that bad if the Phantom... finally, Raoul realized the major fact that the Phantom was not only in his house but in his bed, but also that he had brought Raoul home after last night's... activities.
"I presume that you misconstrued my statement last night."
Raoul was beyond confused. He pinched himself on the arm just to make sure he was awake. The whole situation was just too surreal for him. Maybe he was still dreaming. If he was, then this was one hell of a dream to be having. It would explain everything. It was as if the Phantom last night had read his mind completely. So, last night would be a dream. That would make perfect sense. Raoul would have thought so at the time but it had all felt so damn real and not to mention too good. Then now, he was still sleeping. Raoul considered his options for a moment. It had to be a dream because there could be no other likely explanation. That left him two choices: he could try to wake himself up to a world where the Phantom didn't care about him or he could relish this dream.
The Phantom continued to speak as though it were the simplest statement in the world, "I'm not letting you go. I want you completely."
Raoul faced the Phantom for a brief second to kiss him on the lips before turning around and nestling deeper into the embrace. He sighed happily, "You can have me completely."
A/N: Wasn't that bad! Lol... I can't believe I wrote that. I didn't like the ending, but hell, it ended and I wasn't planning to write something like that at all because hell it made me laugh when I did it. I can't be serious at all when I'm writing sex scenes because I don't know what kind of words I should use e.g. Should I use the technical term 'penis' or more of a slang 'dick' or maybe even a euphemism 'his rod'... lol, really though, those are the thoughts that run through my head when I was writing that part. I'm sorry again for not updating sooner and as you can tell, I still need a bit more effort before I can get back in the groove of writing Pass Time again. I'll try my hardest though.
Oh yeah, Happy Holidays!