Mourning

Inspired by the 2004 movie.

Mourning

She had died so young. Just after the horrific battle for her love had been won, cruel Fate stepped in to take her from him.

It had been two years since Christine had died of fever and Raoul just couldn’t even begin to pick up the pieces once again. He went through his daily routine as usual. The Viscount would be missed if he stayed to mourn. Of course, a man should not be mourning for two years. They just didn’t understand.

Strangely enough, as the snow fell, he was allowed to ride up to the cemetery. He left his horse and began walking the same path Christine had those years ago. Five? Six? He couldn’t remember anymore. Time flowed without any meaning whatsoever.

Raoul paused before the grave and waited, not really sure what he was waiting for. He wanted to hear something that told him that time of his life had been real.

Erik watched Raoul from the shadows. He’d been living in the cemetery for much of the seven years since the theater burned down. It was ever easier to play a ghost here. His world had been torn apart so many times but to see Raoul, the prince…viscount, drowning in sadness angered him.

Raoul spun as the Phantom stepped out from behind a tree, eyeing him angrily. He reached for his sword by the Phantom was too quick.

Erik stepped up and caught the brat by the throat, forcing him against the stone wall.

“You had her for seven years and yet you mourn that time as if it was the worst of your life!” he cried bitterly. “You…”

Erik froze, not because he had remembered something or was speechless, but because Raoul had placed his hands on either side of his face. He was shocked into stillness, he didn’t think he could move if he tried.

Raoul didn’t know what made him do it but the man’s face looked so cold and his hands felt like fire so…he did. The mask of course was porcelain smooth but his face, his skin, was not coarse as he expected, or slimy, though he had no idea why he’d expected that, but smooth has any. Barely a trace of hairs missed in a shave.

“Phantom…” he didn’t know why he said his name. Something to fill the growing silence.

“Erik.”

He blinked twice, not fully understanding. He was beginning to see what Christine had meant. There was something about this man that fogged the mind.
Erik sighed as the confused gaze in Raoul’s eyes.

“My name is Erik.”

“Erik.” Raoul repeated.

The monster had a name? But no, his skin didn’t feel like that of a monster’s. And he’d seen the man’s face. It shocked at first but was not overwhelming.

He traced the line of the mask but for some reason, Erik felt no fear. There was nothing he could take from him anymore. He’d taken everything.

And his hands were so warm.

The sound of hoofbeats broke the moment and Erik swept away to the side, vanishing into the dark shadows of the cemetery. Raoul waited there for a moment before mounting his horse once again and vanishing back into the city.

Erik watched him go from atop the mausoleum.


Late that night Raoul sat beside the fire, staring into it blindly.

“You’re still trying my patience.”

Raoul turned to see Erik leaning against the doorframe. Part of him wondered how he’d gotten there, the other part didn’t care.

He reached up and grabbed the sword from the mantle and turned.

“She’s not here to stop me from killing you this time. I kill you, kill myself, and then we’ll both be in hell, fighting until the end of eternity.”

Erik smirked. “And they told me I had a flair for the dramatic. I just want you to stop mourning Christine like she was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“How should I mourn then?” Raoul snapped. He wanted to throw something at the Phantom but that would be childish and pointless…but it might make him feel better.

“Remember all that you had,” Erik said softly. “All those gifts she gave you just by choosing you. You got to see her smile, hear her laugh, know she loved you and only…”

“She loved you too. She loved us both. She told me.”

Erik closed his eyes. He knew that, somehow, but it had been easier to ignore it. He fought back the tears he’d been swallowing since the day he died so he didn’t see Raoul moving until he heard the doors locking.

“I won’t escape.”

“It’s not that,” Raoul whispered. “I locking them out, not you in.”

He sank down tiredly into the chair by the fire then waved a hand at Erik.

“Come sit.”

Erik closed and locked the window he’d come in and drew the curtains on all the windows. Then he took the vacant chair next to Raoul.

They sat there for almost an hour, just staring into the fire.

Raoul wasn’t sure what was going through his head and the Phan…Erik would probably cut off his head for trying it but…Christine had seen the Phantom’s potential. Over the years, so had he. Sure, his face was messed up but his soul was beautiful, truly beautiful, and from what he’d seen, his face was the only part of his body distorted.

Erik started out of his trance when Raoul stood, walked over, and knelt before him. He blinked and stared at the viscount, wondering what in the world was going through his mind. He physically jumped when Raoul placed his hands on his knees.

“What are you…”

“Shh…” Raoul offered.

He ran his thumbs in little circles over Erik’s knees through the cloth and Erik himself was surprised by the thrill it sent up through his body. Raoul ran his hands up Erik’s legs, feeling the firm muscle there, over his hips and stomach to his chest.

By the time his hands reached the Phantom’s shoulder, his own knees had landed on either side of Erik’s hips for better reach and Erik, oddly, had an arm around his waist, holding him there. He held himself slightly elevated off Erik’s legs so as not to inform the man of his raging arousal.

Where that had come from he had no idea but he was going to roll with it.

Erik was astonished by not only the fact that Raoul was doing this but what it was doing to him. The man’s hands were so soft and his body so lean, somehow they just seemed to fit together. Raoul’s fluttered over his throat, causing his raging pulse to skip a beat. He let his head fall back automatically, exposing his throat to his enemy but not really caring.

Raoul’s heart jumped at the submissive gesture and he ran his thumbs along Erik’s jawline, cradling the man’s neck. He could see Erik’s pulse fluttering just beneath the skin and bent to give the vein an experimental nip.

The hiss he got from Erik was quite rewarding.

He quickly checked the man’s face but saw no malice. Erik’s eyes were half-closed but seemed to come to knowing that he was being looked at. Their gaze met for a moment then Raoul shifted his hands to the man’s face. He waited a moment before lifting the mask and tossing it to the side.

For a moment, panic welled in Erik’s eyes but Raoul placed a hand over Erik’s lips then bent and kissed his distorted eye. As he continued kissing the rest of the blemish, Erik slowly relaxed beneath him. Raoul didn’t notice that he was relaxing as well until he was sitting on Erik’s thighs and their arousals brushed together as Erik shifted.

Erik gasped loudly and stared up at Raoul.

“Why?” he begged.

“Why not?” Raoul countered. “I’ve felt so broken for the past two years but here, with you, I feel whole again.”

Erik nodded blindly, unwilling to speak and break the dream.

He lifted his hands and wrapped them around Raoul’s shoulders. For a moment their eyes met then Raoul’s lips descended on his. They fought now with their tongues the way they had fought so many years ago. Erik tightened his grip on Raoul’s thin body, pulling him close and Raoul compensated by cradling his head so their lips never parted.

Raoul pushed the thick black blazer from Erik’s arms and tossed it away before beginning work on the buttons of the thin shirt. Erik, however, had other ideas for Raoul. He jerked Raoul’s shirt roughly from his pants and pulled it over his head, popping a few buttons in the process then captured his lips again.

“Erik,” Raoul gasped when he was released.

Erik wasn’t about to stop. Human contact for the first time in so long, it was nearly addicting. Raoul was giving off heat like the very fire they were next to. He wanted to feel that heat with every pore of his body, around him, on him…inside him.

Raoul could barely keep pace with Erik’s heated kisses, the icy yet searing hands tearing away his breeches. It was clear now, he has started this tryst but Erik was going to finish it.

He could do little more than focus on breathing straight as Erik blazed a trail down his chest with his tongue and teeth.

Erik blinked when Raoul suddenly sat up and reversed their positions in a huff. The smaller man made short work of his breeches and boots but he was completely unprepared for Raoul to skip the foreplay and immediately swallow his length to the hilt.

If the man’s body was fire, his mouth was an inferno, hot and wet, relaxing and tightening at all the right intervals. Erik threaded his fingers through Raoul’s hair as he bobbed and licked over the Phantom’s length, his hands resting on Erik’s hips.

“Stop!” Erik gasped and Raoul let go with a loud pop before he was shoved to the carpet once again.

Erik caught their lips for a fierce kiss before drawing Raoul’s legs over his shoulders. He glanced about quickly then grabbed Raoul’s glass of wine before pouring it over Raoul’s groin and entrance. Raoul shivered but gave no protest, his hands resting on Erik’s forearms as if struggling to maintain the contact.

Quickly, so as not to lose the lubrication of the wine and Raoul’s saliva, Erik pressed into Raoul’s entrance to a groan and hiss of pain from the smaller man.

Raoul bit his lip to suppress a cry and Erik was immediately repentant, suddenly remembering a hundred things he probably should’ve done to make this easier for his lover that he’d forgotten in the moment.

But oh…it felt so good.

Raoul opened his eyes to see Erik bend nearly in half to kiss his stomach then the end of his length, nipping and licking small circles around the head to take his mind off the pain. It worked quite well as Raoul began rolling his hips in time to Erik’s licks. Erik shifted and suddenly hit a nerve inside Raoul.

Raoul screamed, he didn’t mean to but he did. There were no words to describe what he had felt he merely struggled to pull Erik closer to him.

“More, again.”

Erik responded quickly by releasing his cock and setting up a brutal pace, angling his hips to find that nerve once again.

Raoul mewled and begged and clung to Erik for dear life, his hands running over the other man’s strong muscular back, threading into his hair, never staying in one place for long. Only his legs never moved, held fast by Erik’s strong arms.

He felt the familiar heat growing in his stomach, coiling and coiling until he thought he’d explode if the pressure didn’t release. Erik sensed this by the way Raoul began tensing and with a shift of his hips hit the prostate once again. Raoul screamed and released white seed over Erik’s stomach with having barely been touched.

Erik continued his brutal pace, roughly torturing the smaller man’s prostrate and lengthening his climax until he reached his own a moment later. Raoul screamed again as the hot seed assaulted his prostate then fell limp in Erik’s arms.

Erik blinked several times, breathing heavily then shook Raoul lightly.

“Raoul…”

Slowly Raoul opened his eyes then nuzzled into the warmth that was Erik. Erik lowered them both to the carpet and they lay there for several minutes before Raoul lifted his hand.

“Look.”

Erik turned and there by the window was a shimmer, a ghost in the form of Christine. She smiled then applauded for them before being whisked away in the wind. Erik smiled then kissed Raoul again.

“I think she approves of your mourning.”

Raoul laughed.