That kiss.

That damned kiss had been on Raoul's mind for the week that passed—for the performance he was unable to attend due to responsibilities elsewhere calling to him. Christine had been saddened but ultimately understood, but her reaction wasn't what Raoul feared.

For the first time since their… escapades—because what else were they?—began, he hadn't been there. In Box Five or elsewhere in the Garnier. He wondered if Erik had searched for him, missed him at all, or perhaps simply attended the performance in his box as he would have done since before Raoul had taken it.

But that kiss

That, and the fact that though Erik had promised to fuck him, he hadn't.

In fact, he had seemed awfully melancholic and yet eager through the whole thing last time, focused exclusively on Raoul's own pleasure. Hell, he had used his mouth; such an intimate act that he had easily pulled from Raoul their first time but had seemingly avoided to do so himself. He had seemingly praised Raoul's physique, seemed entranced by his body and reactions.

For that damned week Raoul had been wrecking his brain over those matters, trying to figure out what could ever be going on in Erik's mind, but always coming up empty. It seemed he was a Phantom not just in name but also in reason, completely elusive and nonsensical.

Quite uneasily Raoul entered Box five, frown creasing his forehead with his mind once again trying to make sense of that which he never could.

The box looked the same, still sporting the table now decorated with a vase and a bouquet of flowers Raoul didn't recognise. Apart from that, nothing was different. Nothing that signified Erik's displeasure of Raoul's absence.

More at ease he made his way to the chairs.

Firm hands yanked his collar and he stumbled backwards into a rigid body as an arm wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Where," Erik spat harshly into Raoul's ear, voice low and dangerous, "have you been?"

Raoul gasped into his arms and hissed at the blade pressed against his cheek, pressing his eyes closed and cool fear dripped down his spine. "M-Monsieur?"

"Do not play coy with me now, Vicomte," Erik growled low in his throat, tightening the arm around the blond's throat.

Raoul gasped for air, eyes fluttering. "E-Erik—" he wheezed, clawing at the man's strong arm and feebly trying to pull it away. "Air—!"

"Why would I!" Erik hissed into his ear, his words filled with pure venom. "I have half a mind to bend you over this table and punish you for your insolence!"

Despite his struggle for breath his body still responded, a heat warming up his gut. He whimpered, eyes starting to slide shut as he ceased resisting. If this was how Erik would decide to enact his vengeance, so be it.

Christine, forgive me.

He gasped when Erik released him, inhaling with big gulps the delicious air as he stumbled towards the floor. In his fall the knife nicked him and he felt the sharp pain as some blood trickled out the shallow wound.

"No, Vicomte," Erik grumbled darkly, clothes shifting as he tucked the knife away. He glared coolly down to Raoul still grasping for air, his golden eyes narrow and dangerous. "I will not waste you."

Slowly, his brain resumed function, briefly noticing the overture starting. He grabbed his throat, sputtering and coughing the last remnants of restriction away. That was definitely more like the Phantom Christine had warned him of. He had half a mind to counter his anger with his own, ask him what the hell his problem was, but he was fairly certain that would actually end with his own knife at his throat. He turned to look back up at Erik, the angry and brooding man still as a statue glaring straight back.

Raoul closed his eyes and took a moment more to gather his thoughts as he rubbed at his painful throat. To come with a sarcastic remark or a defensive explanation?

"Erik," he started at last, meeting the man's gaze once more. He cleared his throat as he got up, straightening his waistcoat and swiping some dust off. He tilted his head up towards the Phantom, heart beating in his throat. "I had responsibilities elsewhere."

Erik narrowed his eyes beneath his hat, thrown in darkness yet still piercing through the shade. But, he was silent, and that was a good sign.

"I understand your anger." Raoul took a daring step forward, not breaking their stare as he raised a soothing hand. "But you know very well my title. You know it bears responsibilities at times. These opera visits are first and foremost"—he took a deep breath—"leisure."

"It is leisure for me to tug your cock?" Erik growled immediately, stalking closer until their chests barely touched. "For me to take you in these cursed lips and swallow your seed? Well, Vicomte, if it is all the same to you, I see no reason for me to remain."

"Nobody fucking knows what's going on here!" Raoul hissed back, snarl straight on his face as his anger flared up. "To them, yes, it is leisure!" He made a general wave to the house, the general populace. "But to me, to what I hope is you, this is more."

He was close enough he could see Erik's nostrils flare, the wash of hot-white fury a glint in his dangerous eyes that had Raoul's throat tighten instinctively. And yet, he looked so, so handsome.

He yelped when Erik's hand was on his throat again, instinctively grasping the ridiculously strong arm as the Phantom dragged him through the box and unceremoniously threw him onto the table. He gasped, breathless, as he looked up to the Phantom.

Erik pushed himself between Raoul's spread legs until their hips grazed, then settled his hands on either side of Raoul's slender frame and icily regarded him.

Under his scrutinising gaze Raoul resisted the urge to make himself smaller. Instead he simply lay there, heart hammering, hands clammy, and slacks uncomfortably tight. The moment dragged on long enough that he swallowed and moved a tense hand to touch at one of Erik's hands next to him, feel upon the cool fingers and lace them together. He met Erik's eyes once more. "If you must feel secure in my staying," he started breathlessly, hoping more than anything that he had read Erik right after all. "Do what you threatened."

A silent beat between them.

Raoul watched with bated breath as Erik obviously battled with something in his curious brain. He took too long, his intense dark gaze settled far too long on Raoul's face. Perhaps he got lost somewhere inside that labyrinth of nonsense and dramatic flair.

He startled when Erik unceremoniously shoved a hand down his pants and groped at the eager and hardened flesh.

"Vicomte," he grumbled on a dark whisper, stroking Raoul's length as the blond writhed beneath him. "You are to never disappear like that again." He swiped his thumb over the tip and smirked wickedly when Raoul bucked up into his fist with a moan. "And tonight, my dear, you are entirely mine."

"God, yes," Raoul exhaled, arching his back up against Erik's hands.

Erik grumbled, a deep sound reverberating through his chest, and made quick work of Raoul's waistcoat, unbuttoning the expensive cloth and shoving it aside, his hand ever stroking Raoul's twitching and leaking cock. Impatiently he fumbled with the buttons of Raoul's shirtsleeves, growling when he could not get it undone, and then just decided to unceremoniously yank the shirt apart.

"Hey!" Raoul gasped, eyes wide as he stared down at his expensive shirt with buttons now gone. "Erik."

Paying Raoul's objections no mind, Erik parted the shirt and touched at last upon the warm, golden skin, ghosting over his chest and then running through the hairs going from his navel down to where they disappeared underneath his waistband. Erik gave another sharp jerk of his hand and rolled Raoul's cock within it, eyes dark. He pinched the blond's nipple, eager to hear the man's responsive moans and feel him writhe beneath him.

Thoughts could barely form in his head, Erik's hands tightly around his cock and toying with his nipples. Raoul groaned at another graze of nails, thrust up into the unrelenting hand as he chased his eager release. "Erik—" he gasped softly, eyes heavy. "If you—"

"Hush, Vicomte," Erik grumbled, voice hoarse and uneven. "I decide." He emphasised with a flick of his wrist, eliciting a strangled moan from the blond.

"Please…" Raoul immediately disregarded the loose warning, hands flexing onto the wood of the table. He was entirely unbound, no blindfold. With another gasp he opened his eyes to view upon Erik, to look at his hunched silhouette over him, his dark golden eyes soaking up his body, his hand disappearing beneath his waistband. Raoul blushed, unashamedly and heatedly as he wet his lips. "Erik."

"What?" Erik snapped at him, frustrated as he ground his hips against Raoul's with a strained gasp. "Shut it." He bit at his bloated lips, eyes falling shut.

Without second thought Raoul took his cravat and crashed their lips together.

Erik grunted but pulled away with a snarl, chest heaving. "No," he growled, shoving Raoul's slacks down to his ankles. "No, Vicomte, no."

Raoul made a noise when Erik's hands dug into his now bare hips and easily turned him over, pressing his bare chest against the cool wood. With a grunt he turned his face to its side, cheek pressed against the table and heart pounding as he tried to see properly behind him. "Erik," he breathed anxiously. "Forgive me, I—"

"No," Erik interrupted darkly, whipping out the bottle of liquid he had used three weeks ago and setting it down.

Breathlessly, Raoul watched as Erik took off his gloves, the man's eyes dark and dangerous. His heart wanted to leave his chest, his throat tight and his hands clammy. He flexed his hands, then started moving them, anxious and uncertain.

"No," Erik repeated once more, taking the blond's hands and pulling them harshly behind his back. From out of nowhere he pulled the black fabric Raoul was so familiar with and wrapped it around his wrists, tightening the knot with a rough jerk of his hand. "Your insolence knows no bounds," he grumbled low enough Raoul could barely hear it. "You must be punished."

Raoul bit his lips harshly, wishing he could explain the twitch of his cock at the prospect, the eager whine threatening to leave him. He tried the binds but found that, as usual, they were as secure as they could be, and that caused another wave of heat within him.

Erik swiftly took the bottle and slicked his fingers, face hidden by the brim of his hat as he looked down entirely at Raoul's behind. "You tan in the nude, Vicomte?"

Raoul stirred at his voice, filled with lust and want and danger. He bit his lips but nodded, heated and embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks.

"Hoping Christine would see."

His voice dripped with venom, and if Raoul didn't know any better he almost sounded jealous. Still, it seemed that he didn't actually want an answer, so Raoul decided to remain silent instead. Anticipation twisted his gut and ached his cock, the silence behind him clutching at his pounding heart. He bit his lips and dared a wiggle of his hips.

Erik stilled him immediately, fingers digging into his skin almost painfully so, sure to leave a bruise. Then, there was a wet and cold finger against him and he hissed, body tensing up reflexively and shoulders aching as his muscles strained.

"Easy," Erik whispered, softer now but still with an edge. "You've done this before."

It was as if a switch had been flipped, so much of the aggression and anger lapped away by the ocean within Erik's curious mind. Still, Raoul relaxed at his words, eyes sliding shut and body slumping against the table as if following Erik's every command.

He winced when the finger pressed in, biting his lips hard enough he worried it might draw blood, but then slowly settled, his chest heaving. Even with just one finger he felt full yet not full enough, ever needing more. He remembered the three fingers he had been filled with at some point and jerked his hips forwards to chase any kind of release for his dripping cock neglected. He whimpered when instead Erik arched his finger and set a fire ablaze within him. He mewled, an embarrassing sound rewarded with a smack on his arse that had his eyes widen.

Erik wasted no time pressing the second finger in, eager breaths short and shallow as he fucked the Vicomte on his fingers, dark eyes gazing over the way the blond pushed back onto his fingers, his groans and gasps.

"Please—" Raoul gasped breathlessly, hot flashes all through his body. "Please just…"

"Please what?" Erik purred, thrusting his fingers in harshly and smirked when Raoul pushed straight back.

"Your cock, Erik, I beg you— God, I—" He turned his face against the wood, unable to bear Erik's dark and intense stare on him any longer. "Please..."

With a mischievous hum Erik pressed in a third finger, pushing in up to his knuckles and wrapping his other hand firmly around Raoul's cock.

The blond startled and gasped, though instinctively thrust into the tight grip, eyes fluttering and jaw clenched at the pure wave of pleasure tingling his skin. "Fuck—!" he wheezed, cheeks hot enough they felt like fire itself. Erik stroked him mercilessly, thumb swiping over the tip, and Raoul remembered so vividly his hot and eager mouth around him instead. He tensed, screwing his eyes closed as he groaned and fucked into Erik's hand. "Please…"

With a grunt Erik parted from Raoul, eliciting an impatient whine, and fumbled with his own slacks, undoing them and freeing his aching cock to the air. He reached for the bottle once more and slicked himself with practised ease, eyes dark on Raoul's arched back.

Raoul pushed back towards Erik, chest heaving. So close, so close.

Erik's cold hands gripped his hips and steadied him. He grunted when he felt Erik's cock against him, the heat of him juxtaposed with his cool hands. Raoul whimpered and wiggled his hips. "Please, Erik—"

Everything within him stilled when Erik pushed in, spread him apart, and slid in until their hips met at last. He let out a reverent and shuddering breath, gut feeling so full and so right. He dropped his face onto the table, his shoulders aching as he tried to even his breathing and steady himself.

Erik was panting behind him, breaths coming out ragged and uneven as his hands grasped his arse firmly enough it was bound to leave bruises. Yet, Raoul found he couldn't care less—perhaps even revelled at the thought of being marked like that. He wheezed when Erik pulled backwards, cock dragging within him but not quite leaving. "God…" he breathed hoarsely, hands clenched into fists.

Gingerly, Erik felt over Raoul's clenched fists, touching the heated skin of his fingers. "Raoul," he whispered quietly, soothingly. "Ease up, little one." He almost lovingly ghosted over Raoul's strained wrists, massaging the aching skin until Raoul slowly loosened his muscles and his breath slowly evened and shoulders slacked. "That's it," Erik purred voice lowering once again. He reached for the bottle and spread more of the liquid onto his cock with an eager hiss. "I will take care of you, Vicomte," he grumbled lowly, glancing up to Raoul's covered back and his blond hair messy and disheveled. Once again he seized the blond's hips and massaged the skin before smaking his arse and thrusting forwards once again.

Raoul sobbed but pushed back immediately, barely registering Erik's words as the fullness within him settled.

"What your muscles must look like beneath that cloth," Erik murmured, hand idly feeling over the black waistcoat hiding Raoul's slender back. He grunted and pulled back before pushing into the blond's tight heat once more, staying there for a moment. "You convulse so eagerly..." Ge ground his hips against Raoul's and groaned quietly. "So eager for my cock."

"Yes—!" Raoul gasped softly, pushing straight back against Erik and desperately trying to merge their bodies, to be closer and closer to his delicious heat and persistent cool all the same. "Erik," he grunted, turning to meet the man's dark and golden eyes. "Please, let me touch, let me— let me brace myself— anything…"

He gave a dry laugh, hips smacking together once more. "No, Vicomte," he purred, bent over Raoul writhing beneath him. "You asked so sweetly for me to bind you." His breath was hot on Raoul's glistening skin. "I would hate for you to get overwhelmed."

"Fucking—" Raoul grunted and whined, then pressed his eyes close and felt desperate tears dripping down his cheeks. "That was last time, you fucking—"

Erik's fingertips ghosted over his cock and he lost it. With a strangled cry he came, hips jerking harshly against the table. "Fuck— fuck—!" he gasped almost deliriously, eyes rolling back.

"God…" Erik groaned and bit at his lips as Raoul tightened around him with every burst of his cock. His hand dug even harder into the Vicomte's hip, steadying him against his violent orgasm. "Steady," he breathed hotly. "Steady…"

Raoul slumped onto the table, eyes closed and chest heaving as he gulped in the air, smelled their joined sex. He winced and bit his lips, trying to hide his face when the embarrassment of it all became too real.

"Oh, no, Raoul," Erik grumbled, suddenly increasing the pace of his thrusts. "We"—their hips smacked together—"are not done yet." His hands dug into Raoul's skin, anchoring him as he fucked into the blond's eager body. "You are so tight."

"Shut up," Raoul muttered, eyes closed and arms straining against the binds. His whole body ached, pulled and pushed into the table with every thrust of Erik's hips. His legs weakened and he slumped against the table, then gasped when Erik yanked him back straight.

"Show me that second orgasm, little one." Erik bent down to whisper into Raoul's ear, groaning at the change of angle. He carded some loose blond hair aside, casting his dark gaze over the reddened and spent Vicomte's face. "Raoul." He ghosted his hand over Raoul's bare thigh, touching the warm skin before he slid it towards his spent cock. "Twitching already, little one."

Embarrassed, Raoul winced and feebly shook his head, gasping and panting as Erik pounded into him. "Please…"

Erik merely wrapped his hand around his cock, squeezing the flesh within his nimble hand and smirking when Raoul arched his back and thrust into the touch. He stroked him firmly as he felt Raoul harden beneath him once again. "Still soiled from your previous one," he grinned wickedly, nibbled on Raoul's exposed earlobe. "Yet already hard for me once more."

"Please—" Raoul sobbed, feeling the uncomfortable heat of his face and the sweat stuck to his skin. "It's too much— Erik, I—"

Abruptly, Erik stopped, chest heaving and their hips stuck together. "What do you want, Raoul?"

Raoul could feel Erik twitch within him, hard and eager to finish what he had been working towards. His hand was almost painful on his cock before, but now stilled it was unbearable. He groaned and wiggled his hips, pushing back against the firm mass of Erik and thrusting into his hand with a strangled moan. "Please, Erik— just… let me…"

"Let you what, little one?" Erik barely controlled his voice, panting and feeling sweat drip down his face, one hand dug painfully into Raoul's supple behind and the other tight around his leaking cock.

He whined, unable to form a cohesive thought let alone the words. Instead he grunted and continued fucking himself onto Erik's cock and hand, lightheaded and sweating and desperate.

Erik grumbled but allowed the movement, rolling his hips against the Vicomte as he, too, tried to find his release. He resumed his strokes, harder now as Raoul cried at the sudden sensations. "Come for me, Raoul."

With a strangled moan and tensing of his muscles he came once again, heat flared all throughout him as his cock spilled within Erik's tight grip. "God—!" He gave a cry of relief when Erik let him go immediately, cock aching and sensitive.

With renewed vigour Erik grasped Raoul's cheeks and pushed them together, his breath coming out in short and shallow puffs as he fucked into the tight heat of Raoul. "Take my seed, Vicomte," he grumbled, and then stilled within him with a final smack of their skin.

Raoul could feel him coming—could feel his seed spilling within him, his cock twitching and hardening impossibly so until it finally stilled. Chest heaving, he slumped onto the table, eyes closed as Erik finally loosened his grip on him. He could feel the sweat all over his skin sticking to his clothes, the idle tears streaked down his cheeks. His arms and legs ached, his shoulders strained perpetually against the binds. He whimpered uncomfortably and wiggled around to try and relieve some of the pressure.

Erik hissed and slowly pulled away from Raoul's heat, immediately lamenting the loss as the cool air fell upon his flesh and Raoul whined. He took a breath and straightened his mask and wig, eyes dark still as they viewed upon the panting and gasping Vicomte slumped onto the table completely at his mercy. He wet his lips and put his hands firmly on the low of the blond's back, feeling the heated skin beneath his fingertips.

"What—" Raoul gasped softly, too spent to really object. "What are you doing?" he murmured, already feeling the haziness of sleep stirring within him.

Erik didn't bother responding, taking a moment more to look upon the tanned skin before he finally moved up and swiftly undid the binds around Raoul's wrists. The Vicomte's arms immediately flopped to his sides, wrists looking red and angry. Erik tutted and pursed his lips as he took a wrist in hand and soothingly rubbed over the skin, his breath slowly settling.

Raoul grumbled beneath him and sighed contentedly now that his shoulders could finally rest. Still, he didn't move, his cheek pressed against the table, exhausted.

"This is no time to sleep, Vicomte."

Erik's baritone roused him and he huffed annoyedly, though started moving anyway, his wrist slipping from the masked man's grasp. He was surprised to get said man's help, his nimble hands steadying him as he got up on shaky legs and turned to lean against the table. "I can barely stand," he murmured, eyes still closed.

Erik hummed in front of him, sounding pleased and smug all at once. Then cloth was on his sensitive skin and he inhaled sharply, hands gripping tightly at Erik's hand on his limp cock.

"Hush, Vicomte," Erik said soothingly, gently taking his objecting hand and pulling it away. "Would be a shame to soil your slacks."

Raoul whimpered and gripped at Erik's arms instead as the brunet cleaned his spent cock, jolts of fire and discomfort shooting through his body. "Erik—" he strangled out, eyes springing open.

He was so near.

He stared up at Erik's face so close to him—at the golden eyes looking straight back at him.

With a hum Erik pulled away, his face unreadable, tucking the handkerchief in a pocket. He paid Raoul no mind as he then ducked down and pulled the Vicomte's trousers back up to his hips and fastened them. "I am afraid the shirt is a lost cause, Vicomte." His hand hovered over the still exposed skin, then simply grabbed the torn shirt's sides and tried to smooth them over Raoul's chest.

Breathlessly Raoul watched Erik clean him up and put him back together. He blinked and looked down at his shirtsleeves beneath his waistcoat, frowning. "You could have taken two more seconds to actually unbutton them, you—"

Erik's lips were on his, hand angling him up by the chin and his body crowding him painfully against the table. His arm settled next to Raoul onto the table, allowiong him to lean down and overwhelm the smaller man.

Raoul groaned into the kiss and without thinking grasped Erik's cloak, pulling him closer against him as the smell of Erik enveloped him. He swept his tongue past Erik's lips and grunted when they parted and he was allowed access into his sickening heat.

All too soon Erik pulled away with glistening lips and closed eyes.

Afraid to break the spell Raoul simply stared at his face so close, eyes wide as he soaked in the presence of this imposing and maddening man, his fingers holding onto his chin, keeping him in place. His chest against his.

And then Erik parted, taking swift steps backwards, not meeting Raoul's eyes.

"Erik—" Raoul reached out towards him, but he was already gone.

His heart pounded in his throat as Raoul stared into the darkness, feebly hoping Erik was still there but simply hidden. He uneasily grasped at his throat, then ran a hand through his hair to straighten it as he slowly pulled away from the table, knees still feeling wobbly.