Erik only kisses Raoul when he asks him to. Raoul asks well. And Raoul knows that Erik is a little afraid of kissing him. Stretched out like a cat on top of him, Erik will kiss Raoul almost everywhere, biting, sucking and licking the boy's body. Anywhere but his mouth. Raoul has to ask him for that.
He thinks Erik needs permission.
No one kissed Erik before and he doesn't think anyone could want to now. Raoul kisses Erik whenever he likes. Raoul knows Erik loves him.
It's not that easy for Erik.
He is straddling Raoul, knees apart and head bent down to drag his lips across Raoul's chest, bobbing up and down as the boy heaves off the bed, when Raoul asks him again.
"Kiss me," he gasps. Erik smiles into Raoul's belly.
"Aren't I already, Raoul?"
"Please, Erik," Raoul asks again, running his fingers over Erik's shoulders.
Erik denies Raoul nothing, hovering over him and letting Raoul's mouth mold over his. The boy holds Erik's head down to his, as if he will break away the moment he lets go. He holds on until his lungs are burning and then collapses back into the sea of satin and velvet.
"You don't have to wait until I ask you," the vicomte says breathlessly. Erik silences him with the curling of his fingers.
Later, when Raoul's legs are wrapped around the Phantom's hips, his hands tangled over his head in a hanging curtain, and Erik's name is being born from his lips, Erik is convinced.
A panting kiss in the hot silk sheets. A kiss that requires courage.
Raoul says he loves him and comes. Erik believes him and kisses him again.