Fandom: Phantom of the Opera
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?
Warning(s): slash
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul
Word Count: 4,858

A/N: Sorry this was late. I had to re-read IF just to make sure I don't do anything stupid, and IF's not a quick read. I spent my free time (and parts of my work day) reading it; I still haven't finished.
Story note: Just a sidenote, the OC's names will probably never change from story to story (you'll see what I mean later). I'm not creative like that and may grow too attached to OCs.

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 02 – Restraint

o.o.o.o

Philippe had closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow down after Raoul began to speak. He almost felt bad for doing this, but it was as effective a tactic as any other he'd thought of. He just hoped, no prayed, that he wouldn't hear anything that he didn't want to hear. However, when Raoul's chatter finally tapered off and Philippe heard him shift his attention towards Erik, he couldn't help but not care what was said as long as something happened.

It was difficult to remain impassive as they spoke, tempted as he was to open his eyes and see what was happening, but he knew if he allowed himself that luxury, Erik would certainly realize he was awake. That would automatically mean he would treat Raoul differently. Philippe wasn't quite sure what 'normal' could be defined as but from Raoul's recounting of what had happened at the Opera Populaire, the way they were acting now was well out of the norm.

He was startled into losing his train of thought when Erik began to sing. The sound demanded every bit of his attention, and he struggled to keep his eyes closed even when he wanted to confirm that Erik was indeed the person singing. Reluctant to believe it, Philippe was surprised that the cold man who'd dealt with the managers and the Comte could sound this compelling.

It shouldn't have surprised him though. He'd been able to reconcile the fact that the ghost was Erik and the devil's child was Raoul's saviour. It had been a hard-learned lesson but it wasn't so difficult when he'd seen the two mixed together. Those moments had somehow de-villanized the man. Erik's face wasn't so frightening when he was saving his brother. His actions were less vicious when in all truths, Philippe would have done exactly the same to protect Raoul.

Sometimes he wondered if Erik knew how to separate himself from those roles, from those people he'd been. He worried that one day Erik would do something that was more opera ghost than man and of course, Raoul would be hurt whether directly or indirectly.

A part of him, the part that understood the depth of sacrifice Erik had suffered for Raoul's sake, knew his fears were unfounded. He wondered if he should worry about his own safety, even though Erik had shown nothing but deference to him and his staff. Not his entire staff, but surprisingly, the ones who had managed to kidnap him – and that had been a story that amused Philippe to no end now that he had the luxury of being amused. He'd found himself wanting to tease Erik but decided against it until he was certain no one would die from the experience.

His thoughts tapered off when Erik transitioned into another song, one that was all too familiar to Philippe, the one he'd learned for Raoul.

o.o.o

Raoul's breath caught in his throat. He might've been able to stay lying down during the first song that Erik sang. The song was something altogether unfamiliar but just hearing Erik's voice had been enough; Raoul had barely listened to the words. However, the second song, this second one… he pushed himself to a sitting position. Staring wide-eyed at Erik, he never once looked away as he moved.

This. Raoul thought to himself more than to Erik, This is you. His eyes closed as a gentle peace seemed to wash over him. Even though this was the same song he heard every night before he fell asleep, it had never truly sounded like this. He'd forgotten how it felt as the sound moved through him, how he could actually feel Erik singing. I missed this. And Raoul didn't hesitate when he added. I missed you.

Erik responded back, And we missed you.

As calm as he felt, Raoul couldn't deny the dull twinge of pain in his chest that was spreading. How many years has it been? Why you, Erik?

Why me? Erik replied, not quite following Raoul's train of thought.

Why couldn't I forget you, even when I did forget you? Raoul explained, thoroughly distressed all of a sudden. It was a desperate feeling that grabbed him – his mind had brushed the thought of a life that had been ripped away from him at a time when he'd barely understood what was happening. Why does this feel so right even though I don't understand it?

Raoul could feel Erik's bemusement cut through his own emotions. It was enough to pull him away from those what-might-have-been's. Erik replied, Maybe because we're supposed to be here. You know that. And Raoul could feel Erik's smile as he added, You've known it all your life.

Simply listening to Erik sing, Raoul didn't respond for a long while, trying to memorize the feel of his voice. Looking up at him, their eyes immediately met. He could feel himself blushing at the thought that Erik had been watching him this whole time. He didn't miss a beat in the song.

The urge to move was strong. While Erik was sitting up straight, one leg bent beneath the other, his notebook balancing precariously on it, he was sitting cross-legged, slouched forward. He held his chin in the palm of his hands, elbows propped on his knees. It was unfair for him to have this vantage point when Erik was already taller than him on a normal basis. He felt vulnerable, but he couldn't seem to move. It was as though Erik were staring straight into his thoughts, as though the words of his song were drawing his very soul forth, drawing him ever closer.

I don't think you'll ever be able to get close enough. Erik commented.

Ignoring his momentary confusion at Erik's words, Raoul grinned and released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Erik was right on that one count; the once opera ghost belonged with them, with him. He couldn't be anything but certain of that fact after everything that had happened. After all, Raoul did believe in destiny, fate, whatever one could call it. Even if he hadn't, he knew that something had been missing from his life ever since he'd been a child. There'd been a dissatisfaction, an emptiness; besides his family, he hadn't cared about anything half as much as he cared for this man beside him.

But after all the years they'd spent apart, he just didn't know, What is he to me?

I have some ideas, Erik replied, amused.

Too bad Raoul couldn't share that emotion as well. There were moments when he could convince himself that what he'd felt, his physical reaction to Erik, had been fleeting. There were reasons that could explain it away since he'd never actually felt his body respond to someone as it did to Erik: it had been stress or because it had been quite some time since he'd… well, since he'd relieved himself of that type of tension. Mostly, he blamed it on confusion and the pressure he'd been placed under.

Then, there would be those moments when he couldn't rationalize it away. Sometimes a single look was all it took before Raoul wanted to somehow bridge the distance between them, as though across the room, a meter, a centimeter was still too far. Sometimes it wasn't even Erik looking at him; it was Raoul looking at Erik, and at that moment it physically hurt to be so far from him.

Those times were few and far between though.

When Erik finished his song, Raoul sighed contentedly and with a small grin breathed out, "I like your voice." Realizing he'd repeated the same words he'd said all those years ago, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Still. Of course." He shrugged, turning away to look at the grass. "You sing incredibly well. But that's to be expected." Raoul stopped himself from continuing, biting his tongue.

Erik fought the urge to grin back. Instead, only a corner of his lips quirked upwards. With Raoul turned away from him, Erik's eyes followed the smooth skin from his cheek down to that slender neck. He moved his hand to caress that skin before he caught himself, closing his hands into fists at his side. Chastising himself, he knew that he would ruin everything if he gave into such base instinct. Raoul deserved better than that; he deserved whatever he wanted and Erik wasn't going to push him. He just couldn't keep looking at him; it was too tempting. Instead, he looked past Raoul, seeing Philippe – an even better reason why he should keep to himself.

His eyebrow quirked before he turned his attention back on Raoul. "Is that why you remembered me?"

"I hear your voice," Raoul replied after a moment. He still refused to look at Erik, knowing that those green eyes would be completely focused on him. Trying not to squirm under that gaze, he wondered what Erik saw when he looked at him. The four year old who cried and complained all the time? The man who had called him a monster? He added when he realized he had replied so vaguely, "Before I go to sleep, I hear that song." He dared look at Erik as he finished, "I just hadn't known whose voice it had been until I met you."

Erik's eyes narrowed in thought. "That first time we met. In the tunnels."

Raoul nodded. Of course he remembered the first time he'd run into the famed opera ghost.

"My voice reminded you…?" Erik asked.

"Of that lullaby," Raoul quickly filled in. He definitely couldn't say that it reminded him of the voice in his head. That was one topic he hoped to never have to explain.

Why? You're going to have to eventually.

Erik frowned at seeing his distraction, and Raoul inwardly raged at the voice in his head.

We apparently don't like having you distracted from our conversations. Erik laughed at him.

Raoul ducked his head when he couldn't help but frown at the further distraction.

Erik tried to school his features. After all, Raoul's preoccupation wasn't new. He took a deep breath; the only thing he could do was to remain calm.

"You remembered me ever since that moment," Raoul muttered to himself. They'd already established that point. He just marveled at it sometimes. It didn't really explain Erik's actions but it could be used an excuse for why Erik had been rather irritable with him. Raoul hadn't remembered him; he would've been angry had their positions been reversed. However, he also would've tried to explain that they had a past together instead of avoiding him.

"I doubted that you would believe me," Erik answered his unasked question, which wasn't a total lie. He had doubted, but it was more that he'd been resolved to leave Raoul alone. He wondered how that had ever been an option.

Raoul nodded, unwilling to argue that he should have still tried. It faintly hurt that Erik hadn't, that Erik had waited until his life was in danger before he'd been convinced to approach him. It hurt that he'd been so willing to ignore their shared past.

We didn't ignore that. We just…

Raoul didn't wait for him to finish. "I doubt I would've believed you as well."

I'll say. You can't be angry. Erik retorted, You didn't believe it until later even though I was telling you all along.

It wasn't like you were sure yourself at the time, Raoul argued. And I'm not angry.

But I was right, wasn't I? We did come back for you every time.

Erik cleared his throat.

Raoul mentally cursed. "Sorry," he quickly said. He couldn't help himself. Didn't we talk about this already? No comments unless we're alone. "I…"

Erik had to admit that Raoul looked completely miserable; it didn't erase the annoyance he felt, but he was able to better control himself. Taking mercy on him, he said, "It's alright. You don't have to tell me until you want to."

What if I never want to? Raoul wondered.

Then I'm guessing he'll never know. Erik said, matter-of-factly. Oops.

"We never really got to talk about…" Raoul hesitated, "well, everything."

Erik wondered how Raoul would react if he gave into his impulse and reached across to touch him. He wanted to pull Raoul closer; the mental image of holding him close, close enough that Raoul would be forced to sit on his lap or between his legs, close enough that Erik would be able to breathe the same air as Raoul, refused to leave him. He could clearly remember what it felt to hug him, could feel it still. "It has been chaotic," he said distractedly.

"I'll say." Raoul said wryly. 'Chaotic' was quite tame for what they'd been through, first with the Comte and then with Madame Giry.

Their eyes met again and both turned away from what they saw. Erik, growing increasingly agitated with his wayward thoughts and Raoul, from the intensity of his gaze.

It was quiet for long moments before Raoul offered, "So… the beginning? It couldn't hurt, right?"

Erik turned away. He didn't understand why he couldn't control his thoughts when he'd already convinced himself just being near Raoul was enough. He was already becoming greedy. That was dangerous and no matter what he did to curb such thoughts, he simply failed. Busy tamping down on his anger, he was unnecessarily curt when he replied, "You remember everything that happened." As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished to take them back. It wasn't as though he were angry with Raoul, just himself.

Either Raoul didn't notice or expected such a response from him since he didn't react. Instead, he replied, "I think I do."

"You were a kid." Erik focused on keeping his voice steady; however, that wasn't enough for him not to notice the way the sun looked as it shone on Raoul's hair. It wasn't enough for him to not wonder how it would feel to run his fingers through those strands. He was certain if he asked, Raoul wouldn't deny him. He forced out, "It can be hard to remember things that long ago."

"That's true." Raoul's tongue swept across his bottom lip. "I don't remember getting kidnapped."

"That had been my master," Erik supplied quickly, trying to think of the atrocities he'd experienced as a child instead of this moment to distract himself. It was presently unfortunate that those moments were immediately eclipsed with the memory of a younger Raoul. He couldn't help but feel a little more disgusted with himself, knowing that he still wanted Raoul regardless. His only consolation was the fact that this current Raoul was the only one he'd remotely thought of sexually. In truth, it was little consolation when he also knew he couldn't act on the urge.

"Master?" Raoul said the word as though it were foreign. He stretched the muscles in his back before leaning backwards onto his arms. He made a face at the concept.

Erik stated, "He owned me."

Raoul scoffed, though that expression quickly became something more pensive. "People shouldn't be owned."

"Well, I used to be." And Erik wished he hadn't brought the subject up at all when he saw how affected Raoul seemed.

With enviable ease, Raoul reached forward and put his hand on Erik's knee, meeting his eyes intently. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that." Erik shook his head, barely able to restrain himself.

Raoul pulled his hand away quickly.

Immediately missing the contact, Erik said, "Not that."

"You tensed," Raoul pointed out, keeping his hands to himself.

"I'm just…" Erik tried to think of an excuse, "not used to it. When I said 'don't do that,' I meant be sorry. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Hearing him apologize actually made Erik uncomfortable. After all his own failings, Erik couldn't stand to think that someone like Raoul, who'd never truly done him any wrong, would think he'd somehow failed him.

That's what I've been saying this whole time! Erik cheered. Thank goodness.

When Raoul looked down to stare intently at the grass he was pulling out of the ground, Erik didn't even have time to restrain himself before he placed his hand atop Raoul's, stilling the motion. Surprised at his own boldness, he waited for Raoul to pull his hand away, but Raoul simply looked up at him completely unbothered by his touch. Erik chastised himself even while he was inwardly pleased with Raoul's reaction, his mind already planning for future physical interactions that he knew Raoul would think nothing of.

His hand faintly shook. He almost expected Raoul to disappear. That's what he'd been waiting for these past weeks, for this illusion, dream to disappear. For it to be reality was unbelievable. Yet, here he was.

Making a conscious effort to focus on their conversation, Raoul used Erik's hand on his to ground himself in the moment instead of losing himself in an argument with his mental companion. Erik's hand was larger than his with faint scars that Raoul had never noticed before. Unlike in the mausoleum, his hand was warm, reassuring. He frowned when he thought of how their time together had been sorely reduced because he hadn't kept his promise. "But I didn't come back. I remember that we promised each other and I didn't come back for you."

Erik slid his hand up to grab Raoul's wrist, tugging him closer. Raoul didn't struggle against him, simply scooted closer so that their knees were now touching. Erik could feel his heart speed up. He wanted to touch more of Raoul but contented himself with keeping his hold on Raoul's wrist. "How could you have come back?"

Raoul shrugged, already quite used to that argument. "I should've found a way. You would've."

That one statement was like a physical blow. Erik quickly released Raoul's wrist and moved slightly away from him. He'd been doing it again; all he ever did was betray Raoul, betray his trust and innocence. It didn't matter if his touch was insignificant to Raoul. It meant something to him, and that made it inappropriate. Erik was taking advantage of Raoul… again.

Raoul didn't react to the sudden distance between them, and Erik knew he'd have to pay more attention to his actions. He said gruffly though vehemently, "It's not your fault. It's never been your fault."

Raoul nodded even though he still felt the contrary. He just didn't want to argue with Erik. If he was anything like the one in his mind, they'd never hear the end of it.

Because I'm right, Erik quipped.

Raoul quickly responded. You're not.

"And…" Erik started, still battling the annoyance both with himself and with Raoul for being so oblivious. He knew he shouldn't push his luck, but he couldn't help but ask, "Are you even glad I found my way back?"

"What?" Raoul asked incredulously, "I thought I already told you."

"No, Raoul." Erik cut him off. It was too late to take back the question and he really needed to know this answer. He needed to know that Raoul still wanted him here even though he'd never leave, because distance was becoming the only clear way that he could protect Raoul from his own intentions. He wanted Raoul to want him. "Not just staying in your home or having your brother help me find employment. Not that. I meant around you because this has to be… strange." Seeing that Raoul was still about to argue, Erik realized he needed to forego the euphemisms and he nearly spat out, "You're uncomfortable around me."

"No, I'm not," Raoul immediately replied defensively.

Yes, you are. Erik retorted.

"You are," Erik said a little more calmly. "You avoid me."

"Well," Raoul shot back, "It's not like you're looking for me either."

Erik was about to say the contrary, but Raoul was right. "Okay. That's true. I simply did not wish to make you more uncomfortable."

"I'm not the one uncomfortable." Raoul pointed at Erik's knee. "You're the one that flinches away from me."

You're becoming quite defensive, Raoul. Erik said. Perhaps it would be best to calm down before continuing.

"I told you. I'm just not used to it," Erik was getting becoming just as defensive. This was not how he'd meant to have this conversation and Raoul was being quite unreasonable.

Why are you two yelling? Erik asked.

"So, you're saying you don't mind," Raoul challenged, clearly expecting him to back down. "When you so obviously do."

I don't even know what kind of argument this is.

"I'm just saying that it'd confirm that you don't mind my presence."

What's the difficulty?

"What? So you want me to touch you?" Raoul retorted.

He wants you to touch him.

Erik pointed out, "You've always been tactile."

You want to touch him.

He continued, "More than anyone else I know, Raoul." He had been watching. It had been all he could do in his life and the person he compared everyone else to, their behaviour, their expressions, laughter and every movement of their bodies had always been compared to Raoul. He'd seen Christine, Meg, and half those ballerinas grow up. He'd seen them as children and knew that while they sought out hugs and physical presence they were also loud, bratty, and couldn't sit still. While he'd always known that making such a comparison was unreasonable since he'd spent so little time with Raoul, he hadn't been able to help himself. Even now though, Raoul so freely touched other people, on the shoulder, arm, back. It hadn't even mattered what they were talking about.

I don't see a problem.

They stared at each other, and Raoul wondered if they would come to blows like they had on the balcony of the Opera Populaire. The argument then had been just as asinine. Raoul realized with an uneasy laugh that once again, the voice in his head was right about these matters.

"You're right," he admitted. "You're absolutely right."

Erik let out a harsh breath. He didn't know why he allowed Raoul's own responses to carry him away like that. Admittedly, it was easier being angry than it was being restrained; that was certain. He hardly wanted to live with Raoul at a constant state of anger just to combat against his growing urge for physical contact though. For now however, it was an easy way to interact with Raoul without fear of noticing unnecessary details – like how Raoul's face would slightly redden in anger or how his emotions became so much easier to read or the way his brows furrowed and his breath came quicker. Erik nearly groaned. He had to stop doing this to himself.

Raoul looked away from Erik just to say. You're quite persistent.

Is that your way of calling me a pest?

Maybe. Just let me think without interruptions for several moments, please.

Surprisingly, Erik was silent.

Raoul said aloud, "Philippe says that all the time. And I understand, maybe…"

"Vicomte!" A voice called across the lawn. Raoul turned his attention towards her, not finishing his sentence; Erik watched him for a few moments before turning to glare at the young woman.

Philippe nearly groaned. He was going to fire the person who'd interrupted them. They'd been making some sort of progress, at least addressing one of his main concerns. Erik and Raoul had been avoiding each other. He was pleased that they'd been on the cusp of finding some resolution, even though he had been worried for a while there that he'd have to separate them.

A maid arrived with a blanket and a basket full of food. Raoul and Erik were quiet as they watched the maid laid the blanket on the grass near them and place the food appropriately. Erik pointedly focused on anything but Raoul, trying to get his thoughts in order.

When she left, Erik didn't spare a second before he stood up. "I'll wake up your brother." He wasn't quite certain he wanted to know what Raoul was going to say when they'd been interrupted, but he'd lost hope that it was anything remotely promising every second that had passed in silence.

Before Erik could walk away, Raoul grabbed Erik's pant leg. He looked up at him with wide eyes, "I'll try my best to treat you accordingly."

Erik nodded mutely not quite sure he could hope.

Raoul patted Erik's leg once before moving toward the food. He crawled the short distance before dropping onto his stomach. Blood rushed downwards and Erik had to bite his tongue to focus on the pain instead of his sudden desire. Turning around stiffly, Erik squatted beside Philippe. He poked his shoulder roughly.

"Did you enjoy our conversation?" He asked. As much as Philippe looked asleep, Erik had become suspicious earlier. He was beginning to suspect that way this outing had transpired wasn't a coincidence.

When Philippe still feigned sleep, Erik poked him harder, glad to have an outlet for his frustration. "Stop pretending. It's insulting to you and me."

Philippe's eyes fluttered open. He looked at him innocently. "What conversation?"

"What are you trying at?" Erik demanded.

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Philippe didn't bother to continue the ruse. He said pointedly, "I'm trying to make something happen."

Erik parroted in disbelief, "Make something happen?"

"You two are hopeless by yourselves."

That was it. Erik wasn't used to other people meddling in his business. In fact, people who did usually ended up dead, and Erik suddenly wished he could hurt Philippe somehow. "What?" He whispered angrily, "Would you like me to bed your brother?"

Philippe froze, eyes widening a fraction before they narrowed to glare at Erik. He pushed himself onto his feet, immediately crowding Erik. He was very near having a violent outburst himself. Erik had stood as well, ready to confront Philippe.

"Philippe? Erik?" Raoul called, confused by their sudden movement.

It was a second before Philippe backed down, taking a small step back so as to not upset his brother. He maintained their tense eye contact as he responded, "We're just talking business for a second."

"It's your day off," Raoul reminded him, fond exasperation evident.

"Just a moment, please." Philippe sounded convincingly calm even while his eyes promised a cold death. Erik was vaguely impressed with such control. Raoul had definitely not learned that from him. He could see why Philippe was successful as a Comte.

Raoul grumbled but went back to going through the food.

Satisfied that Raoul wasn't watching them any longer, Philippe focused entirely on Erik. His voice was a mere whisper, yet managed to convey his threat clearly, "If you treat Raoul as a conquest of some sort, if you hurt him, I won't hesitate to kill you. Painfully. Slowly. And rather joyfully since I failed to have the opportunity with the Comte de Montmartre."

Some of the anger actually left Erik to make room for disgust. He was nothing like the Comte de Montmartre, having fooled and used Raoul like he was insignificant. His instinct rebelled against the fact that he wasn't immediately eliminating the threat Philippe posed, and as it were, Erik continued to stare him down though he kept in his place lest he do something unforgivable in Raoul's eyes.

Philippe continued, and his tone of voice seemed incongruous to the words he spoke. "I want whatever makes him happy. He deserves it, and though you might not believe it, I want you to be happy, too. But if that means you'll be friends for the rest of your lives, then you'll be friends. If he wants anything more, it isn't my business."

He smiled at Erik brightly, a fake smile that was as good as any Erik had ever seen. The smile was in place as he finished with a less than friendly pat on his shoulder. "If you do anything Raoul doesn't want, there is no force on heaven or on earth, no begging from you or him that will stop me from castrating then killing you. I'll find a way to keep him happy if you can't. Do we understand each other?"

It took all of Erik's control to nod curtly. A part of him knew he shouldn't push Raoul's brother, but Philippe had to understand there was little he could do to Erik that had any real effect. Erik might not be able to kill him because he'd certainly lose Raoul in doing so, but Philippe could not continue to believe that he had any control over Erik's actions.

"Now stop looking so morose so that we can join my brother."

Erik watched Philippe as he walked towards Raoul, completely at ease as though he hadn't just threatened to kill Erik. He was dangerous. More dangerous than Erik had initially expected and extremely protective of his brother, but Erik had already known the latter attribute. Walking towards the brothers, Erik rather expected Philippe to exclude him from their conversation and the rest of the afternoon. Instead, Philippe acted as though nothing had happened at all.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 02

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter Review: Don't mess with Philippe. He will call you on your shit.

This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write. I think I hate sequels. I'm a little disappointed with this chapter. Let's get to the good stuff already.