Words: 4462
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Raoul/Erik
Summary: Christine and Raoul venture to Erik's home. A mindless PWP. Set after the events of Don Juan Thriumphant.
Warnings: Nothing you pervs can't take.
A/N: I just opened Microsoft Word and started writing... End result is... This. Partially written with the power of Yoshiki.
Beta: I even beta-ed this... Done by my friends, thank you.

A Dream Come True

"Christine, is this really a good idea?" Raoul questioned his companion.

A deep annoyed sigh. "Don't worry. He will like it."

"I sure hope so! Or we might find our necks draped with his lasso, or whatever it is."

Christine chose not to comment on that.

They continued their escapade into the Phantom's lair. Raoul kept looking around paranoid. You could never be careful enough when the Opera Ghost was in question. He really didn't want to be present when he noticed what Christine and Raoul had done – whatever it was Christine had planned. And not to mention the traps.

"Here we are!" The singer announced when they arrived at the lake. "Oh, look. The boat is on this side. So that means Erik isn't home. Isn't that reassuring…" She looked at her friend an amused glint in her eyes.

Raoul just glared at her. "Just get on the boat…" He grumbled and took Christine's hand to help her on board.

They glided across the dark waters to the other side. Raoul almost turned the boat around when he was sure he saw a black shadow move on the shore, but Christine made sure he wouldn't chicken out. Raoul tied the boat to a pole, to reassure it wouldn't escape. After that they headed towards the Phantom's home.

"Okay, now what?" The Vicomte asked as they walked into the Ghost's house.

Christine frowned. "We clean this pigsty for starters. Look at this mess!" She exclaimed and pointed at the massive piles of dirty clothes and unfinished composes on around the floor.

The blonde looked around the room. "Maybe he's a bohemian in nature… Let's just leave." He pleaded but Christine was already crouching down to pick up the clothes.

"No, we are going to clean and then do what we originally came here for." Christine stated firmly. She went outside carrying a large pile of the clothes. "I'm going to the shore to wash these. You take care of the papers."

Raoul sighed defeated and got to work.

It took a while to arrange the many operas, poems, stories and et cetera to neat stacks near the organ. The Vicomte had read a few of them and he had to admit the man was talented, a genius to be exact. Maybe the mysterious Ghost wasn't all that bad as the people said, if he was capable of producing such beautiful words. Tormented maybe but not bad.

"Wow, it looks nice," Christine said as she walked inside. She had already washed the clothes and put them to dry.

"Can we now proceed?" Raoul asked hopefully. He was really anxious because the Phantom might come back home at any minute.

"Okay, okay. Alright then, you go to his bedroom. It's over there." She pointed to the door behind him.

Raoul looked at her suspiciously but did as was told. "Now what?!" He called from the room. Suddenly he heard the door close and a lock being turned. "What…? Christine! What are you doing?!" Raoul ran to the door and started to bang on it.

"This isn't fun, Christine! Open the door!" He heard faint giggling moving towards the front door. "CHRISTINE!" He yelled but she was already gone. What the Hell was she doing? This definitely wasn't what they had talked, or actually Christine had talked HIM along, about making the Phantom a nice surprise. Raoul had had the impression that tomorrow was supposed to be the Ghost's birthday or something, and Christine had thought they could make something special for him. But this wasn't what he had in mind!

He kicked the door huffing angrily and turned to look around the room. It was quite nice, not as dark as the rest of the house he had seen. The bedroom walls were painted in warm colours: dark red, brown and… Yellow? A large wardrobe was placed on the far end corner of the room, and a desk and a chair on the other corner. The big four-poster bed was in the middle of the room, dominating the decoration. Its green satin covers looked very tempting and comfortable. It never had occurred to Raoul that the Phantom might sleep in a bed. He had more thought of a… coffin.

The Vicomte went to the bed and sat down. He might as well make himself comfortable while waiting for – he gulped – the Phantom to come home and let him out. If he would let him leave that is… Raoul bet the Ghost might not be very pleased to find the man he very little liked in his bedroom.

The blonde sighed and let himself fall on his back on the bed. He draped a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. He was so dead. He swore he would come and haunt Christine for the rest of her life…

---

Erik was tired. Making havoc at the Opera House was really hard work. And those idiots, André and Firmin hadn't paid him his salary this month, so he had had to pay them a little visit. Now all he wanted to do was drop on to his bed and dream about a certain blonde. Yes, for some strange reason the Vicomte had filled his every thought and dream, and some of them were quite… exciting. The Phantom had tried to shed the thoughts away but in vain, and so he had ceased fighting against them. After some time he found the dreams to be very pleasant and not at all disgusting. He wasn't even sure he hated the boy anymore. Hatred had been replaced with something else. Erik just couldn't fathom what the new feeling was.

He walked along the dark corridor, lighting his way with a lantern. Suddenly he started and stopped when he saw another lantern light nearing him. Erik was just about to put his light out when a voice called.

"Erik?" It was Christine.

"What are you doing here?" Erik asked. He hadn't seen the girl for awhile, not since she had gathered him and Raoul for a little chat a few days after the 'Don Juan Triumphant fiasco'. Christine had told them then that she did love them both but not in the way they wanted, but as brothers. Raoul hadn't seemed very surprised at this revelation, though. Erik in the other hand had been furious. All that he had done for her, all the love he had shown – well, not in the best of ways some might think – and then she comes and says she doesn't want either of them! Erik had accused her of toying with other's feelings to get what she wanted: a tutor to train her to glory and a naïve gofer to worship the ground she walked on.

Christine, and Raoul too, hadn't been very pleased about those accusations. She had slapped him on the cheek and told him quite firmly that none of those were true, that she truly cared about them both and that it was never her intention to make them believe otherwise. Erik had looked her in the eye and had seen the truth in them, and apologized. They had parted as friends, the only exception being Raoul, who still seemed to be rather careful around Erik. Nonetheless they had shook hands at Christine's prompting.

Christine smiled mysteriously. "Oh, nothing in particular. Just came to see how you were doing, but you weren't at home so…"

Erik lifted a delicate eyebrow. Christine was acting strange. She was plotting something but the Phantom was too tired to dwell on it at the moment.

"Oh," was all he said.

Christine looked at him, the situation getting a little awkward when both of them kept silent.

"Well, it's getting quite late so I better be going," Christine finally said and walked past Erik. "Oh, and by the way… Happy birthday," she said over her shoulder and then continued until the only visible thing was her lantern's light in the distance.

Erik blinked, confused. His birthday wasn't until tomorrow. He shrugged and continued along the corridor.

---

Erik shrugged of his coat as he went inside the house he called home. Then he stopped in his tracks, eyes bulging.

"What the…" He looked around the living room. It couldn't be his living room… This room was CLEAN. Erik wondered who could have done this and then it occurred to him. Christine, of course! The Phantom hadn't had the time to clean and tidy up recently, so he was very thankful to Christine. He would have to repay her somehow.

He headed straight to the bedroom. Again he came across a surprise. A note was placed on the door. He took it into his hand and read:

Dear Erik,

As you can see the pigsty you called home has been cleared. I can only imagine how you were able to live with such a mess! But enough of that. I have a little present for you and it's behind this door. I hope, no I'm sure you will enjoy it.

Your friend,

Christine

P.S. And don't look surprised when you see your present! I know you have wanted this for a long time but never acted on it! So I decided to give a little push…

The masked man read the note again and still didn't know what she meant. He decided to find out and opened the door. He lit some candles around the room and with them giving light he noticed something – no, someone on the bed. He went closer and peered at the person's face. He froze in shock.

The one who had dominated his every conscious and unconscious thought was lying on his bed, fast asleep. The candles' light made his hair gleam and seem like strands of gold, his face pale and marble like. Raoul's lean body looked so beautiful sprawled on the bed. His full pink lips were parted slightly, looking every bit as delicious as in Erik's dreams. He just wondered if they would taste the same as in the dreams…

To Erik's great embarrassment the sight of Raoul and the images from his nightly thoughts were making him hard. At that moment Raoul decided to turn on to his side, bending his leg forward. That position gave Erik full view of the blonde's round backside. He couldn't take it anymore. The Phantom was going to unwrap his present…

---

Raoul sighed contentedly. He was pressed against something warm and the hand rubbing his thigh felt heavenly… The Vicomte's eyes flew open. A hand?! He tried to turn around but couldn't. The hand now grabbed his hip firmly, keeping him from turning around.

"What… Who…" Raoul stammered. Then he realized who the person touching him was. "Phantom!" He exclaimed.

Erik smirked, leaning in to whisper in the Vicomte's ear: "Had a good rest? You'll need all of your energy for what I'm planning to do…" The Ghost pressed his aching bulge against the blonde's ass.

Raoul gasped eyes wide. "What! No! Let go!" He struggled free from the Phantom's grasp and started to climb from the bed, but Erik stopped him by snaring his arms around Raoul's waist and hauling him back onto the bed. He rolled on top of the Vicomte, trapping his hands above his head and leaned down. Their faces were but inches apart.

"It's futile, Vicomte. You have nowhere to run, because I would eventually catch you. So just enjoy this moment."

Raoul didn't have a chance to say anything when his lips were caught in a kiss. It wasn't rough, just lips pressing against each other. The blonde found that it felt quite pleasant. The Phantom's lips were soft and warm and Raoul had a sudden urge to lick them. He parted his lips and brought his tongue forward, giving the Phantom's lower lip a little lick.

Erik started when he felt the wet muscle touch his lip. He hadn't expected the Vicomte to respond this soon, but it was a welcome outcome nonetheless. He in return opened his mouth and deepened the kiss by pressing more onto the blonde's lips and bringing his own tongue to meet Raoul's, brushing them together. Erik found that the Vicomte didn't taste like in his dreams, but much better! Like… A strawberry cake. Erik loved strawberry cake…

They kissed slowly, tongues sliding against each other. Erik released the Vicomte's hands and immediately the blonde grabbed the back of his head, pressing his mouth closer. Erik let his own hands travel along Raoul's body, pulling the shirt from under the blonde's trousers and sliding his hand under it. He found a hard nipple and pinched it, causing Raoul to gasp into the kiss.

Raoul draped his leg around Erik's hip, pressing their clothed crotches together. The Phantom responded by starting to move his hips against the blonde, rocking them in a slow rhythm. Their movements were getting more heated and Raoul kneaded Erik's hair so that he accidentally unleashed the bind holding the Phantom's mask in place. The white porcelain slid off, neither of them noticing until they at last pasted to breath.

They breathed heavily and Raoul opened his eyes slightly, but soon they widened in shock as he focused his gaze onto Erik's face. He wasn't shocked because of what he saw, but because of what the Phantom's reaction might be when he noticed the absence of his precious visage. Raoul had seen his face before, when he had come to rescue Christine from the cellars. The sight had surprised him and made him stare, but not in disgust. It didn't look as bad as other people claimed it to, just different.

Erik stared puzzled as Raoul's expression changed from euphoric to frightened. He took notice the Vicomte was intently watching the right side of his face. He froze in alarm and brought his hand to his cheek where he expected to feel the familiar cold and smooth porcelain, but instead his fingers touched the rough and warm skin of his deformed face.

Erik let out an outraged cry and pushed himself away from Raoul, covering the deformation with his hand. He turned his back on the blonde, who still lay motionless on the bed. Erik started to pace back and forth. How could he have forgotten his own face! How it looked like! He should have known that the Vicomte would recoil the minute he saw his true appearance. He was so stupid as to think that Raoul would… He would what, exactly? Return his feelings? There were no feelings! It was only lust! Simple carnal lust. On his part at least. But now it was all ruined!

"Phantom?"

Erik started and whirled around. Raoul had recovered from his shock and was now sitting on the bedside and looking at Erik intently.

"Get out, Vicomte," Erik growled.

Raoul blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me! Leave, before you'll find yourself at the end of my Punjab lasso!" The Phantom threatened, but it didn't seem to faze the blonde one bit.

Raoul stood up and approached Erik slowly. "If this is because of your face, then I don't care." That earned him an astonished stare from Erik. "I would care less how you look like. I've seen your face before, remember. Yes, I was a little taken a back, but I didn't feel any disgust. This is just how you were born. You should not be ashamed because of what other people think of you. They are not perfect either, no one is." Raoul took Erik's hand in his and drew it away from his face. Erik was too gobsmacked to stop him.

"You are beautiful…" Raoul whispered and leaned up to capture Erik's lips in a tender kiss. He had no idea what he was doing, and the strange, sudden feelings towards the Phantom left him in wonder. This all were so sudden, yet it all felt so right, as if he had been missing something and had just found it again. Raoul hadn't felt like this with Christine. Maybe that's why it hadn't been very difficult for him when Christine had told them she didn't love them in the way they had expected her to. The love he had felt for her… He had thought it was real, but all it was in the end, was a brother's love for his sister.

Erik was speechless. He couldn't even move. This… This couldn't be real. He was surely dreaming – dreaming one of his many fantasies, for he was sure the real Raoul would never act like this – say something like that! But it felt amazingly real… He didn't deserve an angel like the man in front of him, kissing him so lovingly. Erik was a beast! He couldn't do this to Raoul… Like he had almost succeeded in doing to Christine; make him a prisoner in his dark world. Maybe that was what had driven Christine away. It would eventually drive Raoul away too, so why had he even bothered to act on this! He must make a stop to this before another angel will be hurt by him.

The Phantom pushed Raoul away from him roughly. "You don't know what you're saying! I'm a monster! You can't get around that fact! Now leave when you still can!" He yelled and stormed out from the room. He didn't look back and so didn't realize Raoul followed him.

"Don't say things like that! You're not a monster!" The blonde argued, oblivious to the thin ice he was skating on – that ice being Erik.

"Phantom?!"

Erik turned and came face to face with the Vicomte. "Look! You don't even know my name!" He spat.

"Then tell me what it is," Raoul said matter-of-factly.

Erik narrowed his eyes. "You don't have to know it, because we are never going to see each other again for you to make use of it," the Phantom hissed and went to his organ and sat down heavily.

The Vicomte stared at his back determinately. He wouldn't let the Phantom off that easily. Raoul needed some answers first, and in all truth, he didn't want to leave him at all. Not after what had happened between them. He had felt that there was something more than lust involved, on his part at least he realized.

"But, I want us to see each other again," Raoul said softly, walking over to Erik and placing his hands gently on his shoulders. Erik surprisingly didn't shun away.

"Please… Don't be afraid," the blonde squeezed the shoulders, starting to massage them lightly.

Erik stiffened as Raoul said that. Was he really just afraid? Yes, it was fear what he was feeling right now. Fear that if he let himself succumb to his feelings again, let himself be with Raoul, and then the Vicomte left him… He wouldn't be able to bear it. And he was so sure Raoul would leave him. Just like Christine. Even though they had parted as friends, he still hadn't gotten over for what had happened. He had loved Christine, had wanted to make her his. Erik had thought he had finally found a person who understood him, the one with whom to have his own happy ending. What a farce it had been!

"Why can't you just leave me be?" Erik asked, his voice wavering.

"Because, I want to help you. Because I... I love you," Raoul whispered the last part so quietly Erik almost didn't catch it.

Erik just didn't hear those three, fateful words. He must have heard things...

"What did you just say...?"

"I said that I love you," Raoul repeated tenderly, and Erik had no doubt he had meant every word – Raoul's voice had held so much sincere emotion. He wanted to say those words back to him, but he just couldn't. He should have just thrown the Vicomte out of his house the minute he saw him sleeping on his bed. Dreams should have been only that – dreams.

Raoul felt anticipation fill him. He wasn't sure how he expected the Phantom to respond. He hoped against hope that he wouldn't again try to push him away.

"Erik."

Raoul blinked in confusion. "What?"

"My name is Erik." The Phantom said and turned to look at the Vicomte.

Raoul gasped and a smile spread over his face. Erik... Erik! It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. So that means...

The blonde wrapped his arms around Erik's neck and kissed him passionately, joy welling in him when he got a respond with the same urgency as his own.

After a while they parted and Raoul cupped Erik's cheeks, smiling. Just now did the Phantom realize he had forgotten to replace the mask! He tried to shun away but Raoul had a firm hold on him.

"None of that. I want you, not the Phantom, but you," he stressed the last word and drew Erik again in a kiss, this time it was slower and intense.

Erik wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist and brought him closer, forcing Raoul to straddle him. It didn't take long when both of them decided that simple kissing wouldn't be enough, as pleasant as it was. Raoul broke the kiss and concentrated on unbuttoning Erik's shirt, but in the Phantom's opinion he was taking a little too much time on the task and decided to help him.

The Phantom shooed Raoul's hands away and simply ripped the shirt open. The blonde made a surprised yelp when his shirt got the same treatment. Erik threw the shredded clothe on to the floor and then attacked the Vicomte's neck with heated kisses and nibbles. He earned a deep moan form the blonde in his lap as Erik started to suck hard on the juncture of Raoul's neck and shoulder, leaving a visible love bite there.

Erik smirked and continued his exploration of Raoul's body. He glided his lips along the Vicomte's shoulder over to his chest, leaving a wet trail behind. He attacked a hard nipple, sucking and nipping it with his teeth, making Raoul writhe and squirm in his grasp.

"E-Erik... Ah! Stop... Stop for a minute!" Raoul suddenly pushed Erik away gently.

The Phantom glared at him. "What is it? Wasn't this what you wanted?"

Raoul cupped his cheeks. "Of course it was, but I just thought this chair isn't very comfortable..."

The implication dawned on Erik and he smiled devilishly. "Maybe we should return to the bedroom."

Raoul gave a surprised yelp as the Opera Ghost took a hold of his legs and stood up, cradling the Vicomte in his lap. Erik headed quickly to the bedroom, and there he laid his precious cargo gently on the bed, planning on continuing their earlier activities.

The Vicomte couldn't wait any longer and he desperately fumbled to open Erik's trousers, but the Phantom let out a little laugh and stopped him.

"Let me," Erik said and got rid of both of their trousers and underwear.

Raoul let out a hiss as the cold underground air hit his exposed flesh. Erik eyed the blonde man beneath him with hungry eyes. Raoul was simply beautiful. Without warning Erik literally pounced on the Vicomte, pressing their bodies flush against each other. He kissed Raoul passionately and deep, sliding his hands to caress the blonde's sides to his thighs.

Raoul moaned and cried in their kiss, while Erik was doing wonders with his hands. It felt so amazing. He wrapped his legs around the Phantom's waist, pushing their aching hard-ons more firmly together. They rocked their hips, members sliding between them in slow movements. Soon the action got more heated and fast.

"Ah..! Oh God... I'm... Going to..." Raoul breathed.

Erik burrowed his head in the crook of Raoul's neck, panting hard. They were very close to completion. Erik quickened his pace, their cocks rubbing against each other and their bellies, creating a wonderful friction.

Raoul was in Seventh Heaven. All he could think about and concentrate on was the man on top of him – what he was making him feel and sense. Raoul had never experienced something like this before. At first he had thought this was wrong, Erik being the Opera Ghost and all, but now it didn't matter. Raoul didn't want this moment to end.

Erik felt he was nearing his climax, and somehow sensed that Raoul was too. He captured the Vicomte's lips in a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue deep into Raoul's hot, wet mouth, moving his lips heatedly against the blonde's. Raoul answered with fervour.

Finally neither of them could hold on any longer and they came with a convulsing force, semen coating the space between them. Raoul fell limb, Erik collapsing on him. They stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily. After a moment Erik rolled off of Raoul and settled beside him.

Raoul snuggled closer to him and wrapped an arm over Erik's chest, placing a sloppy kiss on his shoulder.

Erik manoeuvred the blanket under them and covered them both with it. Then he too draped his arms around the blonde. Neither of them spoke, both feeling too exhausted to speak. And they really didn't need to say anything.

Raoul closed his eyes and soon fell asleep. Erik kissed his forehead and followed suit.

---

The next morning Christine came to her dressing room to find a note and a little package on her makeup stand. She took the note, curious about what it said, and if there was clue who the sender might be, although she had a pretty good idea whom it was.

Dear Christine,

Here is something to repay for the cleaning of my house. It was very much appreciated, thank you. But I do hope that in the future you don't venture into my house without me present. You could have fallen into the many traps along the way, as you very well must know already.

As for the present... You were right, I did enjoy it. Very much actually. Thank you. I do hope you will enjoy your gift as well.

Oh, and Raoul insists on saying hi...

Erik

Christine burst into laughter. She was so happy for them, and relieved her plan had worked – as if she had doubted otherwise.

The singer folded the note neatly and then turned her attention to the package. She wondered what might be in it. The only way to find out was to open it, so she unwrapped it. She let out a delighted cry as the content became visible. It was the book she had been hunting for ages: Mme Bovary by Gustave Flaubert!

Christine hugged the book against her chest. She couldn't wait to read it.

Fin

I really can't fathom I wrote this... I'm never going to write something out of my butt again. I hope this gave you a laugh. x)