Second Place
Second Place
Dedicated to the Guys at the Verse. I can honestly say that without them, this would not exist. Oh and Emily…sorry.Hehe.
They both breathed harshly, exhausted. But still the boy continued. Nadir stopped. It was madness, he was far the fitter yet could not find urgency within himself. He wiped a damp hand across his face. Ahead of him the boy stopped, missing the sounds of his footfalls.
"Which way?"
The Persian exhaled, sharply. He could see in the darkness but imagined the Vicomte could not. He made out the sharp lines of his face, not yet thickened to manhood but not a child.
"I do not know."
Raoul snorted in annoyance. Another dead end. With little time to spare he couldn't afford to be lost now. Every second he did not find her was another that Christine was lost to world.
"She could be dead by now!" He declared to the Persian, wiping angry tears from his face.
"And I promised her that she would be safe."
"No." Nadir replied evenly. "Erik would not kill her. He does love her, though she despises him."
"She does not despise him." Raoul retorted with not a little bitterness. "She pities him if anything. It is odd, I do not understand it."
Nadir frowned, his expression masked in the gloom of the tunnel. So the girl was not as unwilling as this man had led him to believe. Yet still he followed her. Even knowing full well that it was likely to be death to meet him there.
"Why then do you come to find her?"
The boy was silent, perhaps though the stubbornness instilled by his rank. After a pause he replied.
"Because I love her."
"But she does not love you?"
"She does." The boy replied quickly, childishly even.
Nadir smirked to himself in the darkness. How stupid love was, to be defended even at this point. He knew the Vicomte did love her, how could he not?
"And even after this, she will be enough for you?"
"Yes." The boy stated, before curiosity overwhelmed him. "…what do you mean?"
The Persian sighed. Raoul felt his irritation grow. This was not helping their search, though he could hardly say that to his only chance of seeing Christine again.
"Well, you shall never be first for her."
Raoul bit his lip. He did not think that the man meant what his mind had sprung to. Still, he had not finished. The mans voice, though lowered quite to a whisper still managed to fill his ears. It was almost hypnotic.
"Despite all that you can be to her, stability and suchlike Erik will always have shown her more. You could, Allah willing take her in marriage and still you will be second to him. She had be plucked, boy and not in the way you imagine."
Raoul swallowed his mouth strangely dry. He did not like it, or this man. He wanted to find Christine and get home.
"Do you, do you know the way?"
"No, but I shall remember it. Give me a while."
...
He was smoking now. Raoul sighed and slumped lower again the wall. It didn't smell like anything he had tried in Paris. The scent filled the enclosed space making him feel dizzy and light of head. His cheek turned to rest against the cold wall.
"Any idea?."
The Persian shook his head, though he could only hear the movement. He exhaled a breath. Raoul, feeling the warmth upon his neck realised he must be closer than he
had thought.
"No."
"Well, I don't know what to do if-"
He coughed, perhaps a result of the smoke. Next to him he heard the Persian laugh, a soft grumbling noise.
"Iranian. I've never tasted the same in Paris. It would grow on you in time."
"No, thank you."
The Persian shrugged.
"Suit yourself."
...
Raoul took another deep draught.
"So, why exactly am I only second?"
"Because my dear boy." The deep voice explained through the mist. "You will never be as Erik is. He is unlike any other. She will always be haunted by him, whatever happens."
The voice paused, before continuing, soft to point of a whisper. The hairs stood on the back of his neck, making the Vicomte shiver.
"Why not forget it? You are young. Why, I would imagine you have never looked at a woman, let alone touched one."
Raoul flushed a deep scarlet, relieved by the cover of the darkness.
"No… well I mean…"
A touch on his leg silenced him utterly.
...
The man groaned a rumble deep within his throat. Nadir smirked, merely increasing the movements of his hand. It never ceased to amaze him, how even the quiet ones came willingly in the end. Still, it did not help his own enjoyment. Which, after all was the point.
"Come, the manners of your society dictates equality amongst all men of means."
Perhaps only when he felt the hot mouth close around his shaft did he allow himself to murmur, a smirk on his lips.
" Viva la France."
...
Raoul felt stretched, utterly to the limit. A sob of pain escaped his lips before a large hand enclosed around him once again. Once the movement began he could only whimper, dazed from the combination of pain and pleasure so sweet that he could hardly stand. Was it not for the support of the wall, he might have fallen. An age past before it was over, and he was completely undone.
...
"Which way?"
The boy asked sullenly, clearly the owner of a headache. Nadir sighed.
"This one, come we shall be there in an hour."
He began to walk along the passage, the boy following after a pause. Occasionally Nadir though he heard a gasp of discomfort but it was quickly muted. He stopped abruptly at a door. Turning, he faced the boy.
"He shall know us from here; this is the last chance to step back."
The boy stared at him sullenly before responding.
"I may be her second but she will always be my first."
Nadir looked down at the younger man blankly, not one to beg. Soon the younger man averted his gaze.
"Open the door."
Fin