Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.
Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Post-POTO. A bit of R/C (yeah). General discontent runs through the characters as they are forced to adjust their views of happily ever after. I guess a bit of E/C as well (but that's usually unavoidable)
Warning(s): slash (that's homosexual content for those of you who don't know)
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul
A/N: Sorry for being late. Weekends still are bad, but at least I did post on a Sunday, right?
Story note: Their thoughts are all over the place in this one, but in my defense, they sort of should be (not because my mind has been distracted by other things of course).
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Reluctantly Willing
Chapter 06 - … to share
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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt
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Once in the safety of his own room, Raoul began to pace. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. Gripping them together, he tried taking a calming breath. Instead, that deep breath only served to make him feel lightheaded. Everything was going so wrong: first with Christine and now with the ghost.
What was he going to do?
He had to keep with the lie. Alright, so maybe he didn't have to, but allowing that insufferable man to have something else to lord over him was not going to be pleasant. As much as it was contrary to his original plan, the thought of the ghost as his prisoner did feel just the slightest bit satisfying. After that rope incident in the ghost's lair, how could he not want to finally be the one with the upper hand? Either way, how much did having the ghost as a prisoner really change?
Raoul let out a sharp exhale. It changed everything. This was why he couldn't kill the ghost when he'd first found him. This was why he couldn't gloat or feel more pleased about the fact that he had the ghost at his mercy. The man was injured and weak. There was no triumph in beating an already injured opponent. Admittedly, that night of Don Juan Triumphant, he would have taken whatever situation had been given to him. In fact, he wouldn't have hesitated at killing the ghost whether he was healthy, injured, or even conscious, but that was then. After everything he'd been through with Christine, he just couldn't hate so blindly anymore.
However, that still left the fact that the ghost would probably kill him given the opportunity, and since he was too weak to do that currently, then he would probably make his life as much of a hell as he could. The man was bound to get his voice back. Then with one shout, the whole household would be informed that he had the famed opera ghost in his household. More importantly, Christine would find out. He could tell her right now that the ghost was in his den… if he could find her. She was probably eating lunch, which meant that he had a higher probability of catching her. Yet, he was reluctant to do so. She didn't deserve to know, not after the way she'd treated him earlier.
The other option would be to convince her to leave the estate again. He snorted; that probably wouldn't be difficult. He could approach Madame Giry and request a favour. He paused; maybe he could convince Madame Giry to take the ghost. Cursing in his head, Raoul realized that would be unacceptable. The ghost wouldn't be his prisoner if he shipped him off to Madame Giry's. It would undermine the whole lie.
Then, there was the simple solution of gagging him. That didn't seem like a very good option though. He grimaced at the mere thought of doing so; this was a man, not an animal. He couldn't shoot down every option though. It probably wouldn't take very long for the ghost to get his voice back.
Raoul leaned against the nearest wall. His voice wasn't the only problem. He would have to find a way to physically restrain the ghost eventually. That's what happened to prisoners, right? They were restrained and mistreated. Since Raoul wouldn't do the latter just yet, at least not in good conscience, then he would have to do the former.
The door!
He'd forgotten to lock the doors. Flinging open the door to the hallway, he pulled out the key to lock the den's door. The deed done, Raoul leaned his forehead against the door, taking in a deep breath. What was he thinking? The ghost hadn't even been able to sit up. He was worrying himself for no reason. Raoul looked up and down the hallway guiltily; empty. Could he be any more obvious that he was hiding something?
Slipping back into his room, he released a sigh. He needed to calm down and maybe then he'd know what to do next.
o.o.o
Erik stared at the door that the Vicomte had just slammed.
In the silence that followed, he could admit to himself that he was fairly confused. Of all the emotions he thought he would feel being confronted with a situation like this, confusion had been the farthest from his expectations. Then again, he never thought he'd find himself in this situation. In fact, he wasn't sure he understood what was happening at all.
The Vicomte's words and actions seemed rather contradictory. If the Vicomte wanted to gloat, then he should have done it already. Besides the statement of 'you're my prisoner now', there'd been nothing. He'd even actually said he hadn't wanted to gloat.
Erik was his prisoner? He'd been a prisoner to a good many people, intentionally or otherwise: the gypsy had kept him captive, the opera house in a way had as well, and then there was Christine who he'd been a rather willing prisoner to – if only she'd been willing to reciprocate. Now, the Vicomte was trying to tell him that he was a prisoner to him? The idea was laughable.
The immediate indignation he'd felt at the announcement had vanished. He should be angry that the Vicomte even spoke the sentence aloud, but something about their exchange had been off. He just couldn't quite place why.
Looking around the room, he saw blankets piled up near him, rather poorly folded actually. Though naked, he was comfortable and clean. Lifting the blanket from him, he checked his body. There weren't any new bruises. In fact, he was looking healthier than he had in a long while. The bowl beside him not only looked good, it smelled good as well.
He didn't know what the Vicomte's definition of a prisoner was, but this was definitely not what Erik correlated with being imprisoned.
Glad that no one was around to see him struggle, Erik pushed himself up into a sitting position. It took much more effort than he would have liked to admit and by the time he braced himself against the desk, he was ready to lie back down to sleep. Hunger won out in the end though. Dragging the blanket onto his lap, Erik took a second to catch his breath.
Placing the bowl on his lap, he paused. The poison theory was still an option, but even though he felt weak, he felt better than he had when he'd first woken. After all, he'd been asleep for three days.
Three days.
It would explain the fact that his body ached, the heaviness of his limbs, and the speed at which he tired.
Reaching for the spoon, Erik knew he didn't have much to lose by eating. At the first taste, he forgot everything about poison theories. The hunger may have lessened from what he remembered, but this was the first real meal that he'd actually tasted in a while. He'd forgotten food could taste like this. The soup was gone before he gave a second thought and by then, his stomach was pleasantly full. His throat even felt better.
Looking at the empty bowl, he remembered having seen the Vicomte place the tray down on the desk. Turning around was still a little difficult, but Erik was pleased to find that he could do so with less difficulty than it had taken to sit up. He placed the bowl down but frowned upon seeing the second bowl.
When he'd woken and seen Raoul there, he hadn't really wondered why he'd been in the room. The Vicomte did say that he was a prisoner, but considering the fact that Raoul had taken in the food, Erik was beginning to suspect that the Vicomte had been the one to care for him these past few days. He frowned at the thought and what it might entail.
It would explain why the blonde had seemed so at ease when he'd sat on the floor and then the fact that he took his meals with him. Erik hadn't been starving. Did that mean…? The Vicomte had been feeding him? Erik refused to believe it. He was probably jumping to the wrong conclusions, but that second bowl of soup stared back at him accusingly. Accusing him of what? He wasn't sure, but he was certain he didn't want to find out.
Erik was starting to hope that there was poison in his soup because at least then, he'd understand what was happening, what the Vicomte was planning.
The sound of the door locking filled the silence and Erik relaxed. That was more like it, something familiar. He looked at the other door and waited for it to be locked as well, but after a few seconds of waiting, nothing happened. He wondered where it led. All he heard was a door closing. Well, the Vicomte was sure cocky if he didn't think to lock the other door. The blonde was probably in there, laughing at him.
Erik glared at the door. He was tired of thinking. It was much easier to act, and he refused to allow the Vicomte another second of thinking he was just going to lie down and be his prisoner.
Flexing his legs, his muscles protested at the movement. Mobility was coming back slowly, but his anger was helpful in that it helped him ignore the pain. Pushing himself to standing position, he swayed unsteadily. Using the desk to keep himself upright, he stumbled towards the door he was certain was still unlocked.
o.o.o
Raoul laid sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was supposed to be thinking about a solution to the problem he had actually created for himself, but all he could think of was how foreign it felt being on his bed. It had been a while.
The second thought that filled his mind was the fact that he was hungry. He'd left his lunch in the den, with his 'prisoner.' He could potentially go downstairs and get more food, but he rather wanted to avoid everyone right now. His butler would certainly have questions for him.
He started when the door to the den swung open. Scrambling to his feet, he schooled his features to be neutral when he met the ghost's gaze.
Erik frowned when the Vicomte didn't react to the fact that he was naked. Admittedly, his lack of clothing had been a mere afterthought in his efforts to get to his feet, but when he'd realized before opening the door, he'd rather expected the blonde to blush and avert his eyes. Instead, all he received was a steady gaze. One that was challenging his own.
Raoul, of course, noticed the fact that the ghost was standing in the doorway naked as the day he was born, but after what he'd gone through in the past three days, seeing the man naked was rather uneventful. He was also painfully aware that it would seem like a weakness if he turned away, and then what would he do about the ruse?
He'd underestimated the man again. He couldn't take his eyes off the ghost in case he tried something else.
Erik knew there were perhaps a handful of proper questions to ask at this moment, but the first one to come out wasn't one of them. He couldn't help but press the subject though.
"Why am I naked?"
"Because…" Raoul tried to joke, "you didn't bring the blanket with you?"
The ghost was obviously not amused. Raoul wasn't laughing himself, but it seemed like it could have broken the tension. Apparently not. He waited for the ghost to say something else, but when he didn't, Raoul realized the ghost actually wanted to know why he was naked.
"You really want to know?" Raoul asked. The ghost wouldn't be pleased with what he heard.
Erik rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise. Why don't you share?"
Raoul bit his bottom lip; it wasn't his fault though that he was going to say this. "It's easier to change the sheets than it is to change your clothes."
It took a second for what that actually implied to sink it. Raoul forced himself not to grin when he saw the ghost grimace.
"And there wasn't much warning besides a moan or a mumbled word…" Raoul continued, rather pleased that the ghost actually looked flustered.
"I get it." Erik stopped him before he could continue. He had the sudden urge to cover himself with his hands, "I get it. Just stop talking."
The very thought that someone had actually touched him while he hadn't been able to protest or fight it actually unsettled him. The thought that the Vicomte had done so made his skin crawl and suddenly, he didn't think he could keep standing. Leaning heavily on the doorjamb, he tried to clear his mind of those disturbing thoughts.
Raoul immediately felt a little bad for flaunting the ghost's weakness in his face. It wasn't his fault that he'd been unconscious and too weak to do anything. True, it had been a little uncomfortable the first time, but he wasn't lying when he said it had been easier with the ghost naked. And luckily, he hadn't needed to perform that particular task too often.
Seeing the ghost seem to deflate, Raoul found himself walking towards him before he thought about it. He couldn't let him fall; it was apparent that he was still at least a little weak. When he was close, the ghost lurched forward and grabbed onto his neck.
Erik saw him approach and he forced himself to stay on his feet. This was the perfect opportunity. If he could kill the man now, then he wouldn't have to worry about anything else. So, using what strength he had left, Erik threw himself at the man. Luckily, his hands easily found the blonde's neck. However, his momentum brought both of them to the ground. While he didn't have enough energy to try and break their fall, the Vicomte did his best to cushion their fall.
They ended up with Erik partially on top of him, his hands still firmly choking Raoul. The blonde gagged and tried to tear the ghost's hands away. Though painful, he could still breathe, just barely. It took a few more seconds but he finally managed to yank the ghost's hands away.
Erik glared, but he was breathing heavily and he was willing to stop. He really had no choice in such matters, not when his muscles were refusing to listen to him.
"Not while you're naked please," Raoul gasped out, pushing Erik off him.
His voice was actually pleading though, and at the sound, Erik's body just sagged to the floor boneless.
Raoul rolled away to put more distance between them; he gingerly felt his throat. There were definitely going to be bruises later. Seeing that the ghost wasn't about to attack him again, he looked up towards his den. The blankets on the floor couldn't have been comfortable and at the moment, they seemed quite far. The ghost wasn't moving. Now he felt worse. Why was he baiting the ghost? That was stooping quite low.
Maybe he could make up for being so mean to the ghost. He slipped Erik's arm across his shoulders and hefted him up. The ghost protested but managed to stand up with the help. Instead of heading towards the den, Raoul walked them over to the bed. It was closer and the ghost dropped into it with a sigh. It looked like he was asleep already.
Walking back to the den, Raoul mumbled to himself, "I really hope that you won't urinate on my bed."
He grabbed the extra blankets and draped it over the ghost.
"We're sharing the bed?" The ghost's voice startled him.
Scoffing, Raoul shook his head. "I do believe we've shared much more than needed these past few days."
"I was unconscious." Erik groused.
"Thank God," Raoul couldn't meet his eyes this time.
Erik didn't know how he was still awake, but he murmured one last question, "That's how you treat prisoners?"
Raoul stared at the ghost. No. He didn't treat prisoners this way. He didn't know anyone he treated this nicely, but someone in this house deserved to sleep well. Someone in this house deserved to be comforted and talked to like a human being. He didn't think the ghost deserved it, but he couldn't help it. There wasn't anyone else to be nice to. He had to admit though, he definitely liked the ghost more when he was unconscious and compliant. It was nice to have someone around, to be able to talk to anyone actually.
The ghost was already asleep when Raoul replied ruefully, "No, you're just special."
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End Chapter 06
Word count: 2,805
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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter review: I almost feel bad for Erik in this. I definitely feel bad for Raoul though. *smirk, sort of.