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Emptiness	By : Josephine1881 Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Slash Views: 8257 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: See Chapter One!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Delighted as I had been at the prospect of Erik showing me the opera in the way he knew it, I hadn’t seriously believed that I’d see very much of interest to me. After all, I had been to the opera countless times, first with my brother, usually to see some ladyfriend of his, then alone to visit Christine. I had thought I knew most of the corridors leading backstage and to the upper floors of the building. How very wrong I had been…

After we had left his world behind, Erik led me through a couple of passageways. I had no idea where we were going, but it didn’t matter to me either. It was being with Erik that counted. We were talking about this and that, and I found that he wasn’t only capable of meaningful discussions about important matters, but also of light-hearted conversations about nothing special.

He amused me with an anecdote of a chorus girl who had once returned to the opera late at night after a long encounter with an admirer and had tried to climb through the window of her dormitory rather than use the door, as to avoid being spotted.

“Most unfortunately, she was not the brightest ballet rat there was,” he told me with a tragic little sigh. “She counted the windows from the wrong side of the building, and instead of landing in her own room, she ended up right on the lap of Mme.Giry, who had fallen asleep at the window of her study!”

I burst into laughter. Erik was such a good story-teller that I could easily imagine the scene in front of my mind’s eye. The indignant ballet mistress and the puzzled girl – it was just too funny.

“I wish I could have been there,” I mumbled, gasping for breath.

“I was there,” Erik said. “Well, at least I was almost there. Keyholes are a very useful invention for finding out the most interesting stories. But we have to stop talking and be quiet now, or someone will hear us.”

To my surprise, he didn’t lead me further down the corridor we were just walking through, but up a steep ladder that he placed right in front of us. It was so dark that I couldn’t see where it led. The air was stale and dusty, and I had to suppress the urge to sneeze. I tried my best to make as little noise as possible, knowing that if Erik told me to be quiet, it had to be important.

After two or three minutes of climbing in silence, we came to a halt.

“Take this for a moment,” Erik muttered, handing me his lantern. “I need both my hands.”

I heard a series of metallic clicking sounds, but I couldn’t see anything, for his body was between me and whatever he was doing. Still, I rather enjoyed the view I had. Erik’s backside was right over me, moving in a tantalising rhythm. I couldn’t resist the temptation to give it a loving squeeze.

Erik yelped indignantly and jumped slightly.

“Watch out, boy,” he growled, but he didn’t sound too angry. “If I fall, you’ll have to catch me.”

I merely chuckled. Erik was as sure-footed as a cat. The chance of him falling down the ladder was rather remote.

At last, light spilled onto us from above. I saw that there was a rectangular opening in the ceiling, large enough for a man to climb through. And that was what we did, after Erik had peered through the opening for a few moments and declared that it was safe to come out. He went first, then took over the now useless lantern, while I heaved myself through the opening, panting slightly.

As I came into a standing position, I looked around curiously to see where we had ended up.

“The stage,” I muttered, still a little out of breath.

“A remarkable observation,” Erik commented dryly. “Do you like it here?”

I walked around a little, marvelling at the sounds my footsteps made on the wooden floor. It was a strange sensation to be here on the stage, to see the rows and rows of seats. I imagined them being full of curious people, all of whom had only come to hear me sing. A little shiver of excitement ran down my spine, and suddenly, I understood a little of what made the profession of a singer or an actor so appealing to many.

“Yes,” I replied in a whisper. “Yes, I like it.”

It was only when I heard that even my soft voice echoed through the deserted auditorium that I realised how exposed we were on the stage.

“What if someone sees us here?” I asked, turning around to face Erik.

“No one will see us, because no one is there” he assured me. “It’s the time of the morning break. Everyone is in their rooms, eating, drinking or doing whatever else they please. Nobody will even be near the stage or the auditorium. They all enjoy their break far too much to end it earlier. That’s why we are here now. I wanted to start my little tour with the heart of the opera: the stage.”

“And the trapdoor?” I wanted to know suspiciously. “Is this where Christine and you vanished at the first night of ´Don Juan Triumphant´?”

“Indeed,” he answered. He seemed surprised that I had made the connection, but not in a negative way. “Of course there was no ladder standing there on that day,” he explained. “It would have taken us far too long to climb down. We simply jumped. I had placed a stack of mattresses at the right spot, so we didn’t hurt ourselves.”

“I see,” I muttered.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to think about that day now. I had been so full of hatred then, and now… Soft lips made their way up the side of my neck, which somewhat distracted me.

“Don’t think about it,” Erik whispered in between little kisses. “I expect we’ll encounter the past many a time today, but bear in mind that only the present really matters. I’m here with you now, and I love you. Who cares what a trapdoor was used for months ago?”

By the time his lips reached mine, I was fully convinced. What was the point in pondering, now that the man I loved was with me, his tongue seeking entrance into my mouth? I was only too willing to grant it. If there had indeed been an audience in the auditorium now, they’d have seen quite the performance. And the best thing about it was that it was not a performance at all. Every gasp and moan was real.

After a few minutes of exchanging increasingly heated kisses and caresses, my hand made its way down to the front of his trousers, where it encountered the tell-tale bulge of his hardness. I moaned into Erik’s mouth. It was quite amazing that we both were aroused again, so shortly after our encounter before breakfast. There had to be something about the atmosphere of the opera. I wondered how many couples had stood where we stood now, right on the stage, making the most of a short break between two rehearsals. I’d have to ask Erik about it later. I had a feeling that he knew very much about such topics. But now was not the right moment.

I hadn’t as much as started opening his trousers when he seized me and pulled me behind a curtain at the side of the stage. I threw him a surprised glance. What were we doing here?

“Before long, the ballet rats will return to the stage,” he explained hastily. “The break won’t last forever, you know.”

“Neither will I,” I reminded him, taking his hand and placing it where I wanted to have it.

A few days ago, I might have tried to persuade Erik to go somewhere else, somewhere less exposed. Yet I had to admit that the situation itself was quite arousing. Any moment now, the chorus girls and Mme.Giry would come back and continue their usual morning rehearsal, oblivious to the fact that we were right here, behind that curtain, with our manhoods exposed in each other’s hands. Perhaps they would notice the curtain moving and come to see what was going on. Perhaps they would hear our moaning. The thought made me grow even harder, and I thrust frantically into his hand, while we kissed passionately.

Neither of us lasted long. We came in each others’s hands, stifling our moans with hungry kisses. When it was over, we simply stood there for a few moments, trying to regain our breath. Then we cleaned ourselves with the handkerchief I found in my pocket and tucked away our now limp members.

It was only when I peered through a gap in the curtain and saw the still deserted stage that I noticed something was wrong.

“Why is no one here?” I asked, somewhat suspiciously. “You told me the break was almost over.”

Erik grinned cheekily.

“Oh, now that I think about it, the break might not be over for another ten minutes,” he gave back. “I have no idea how I could have made such a grave mistake… But you did enjoy it, didn’t you?”

I felt like throwing something at him. Yet since there was nothing useful in sight, I merely gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder as we left the stage. After all, he was right. I had enjoyed it, and the fear of being discovered had added a certain thrill I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Like so many times before, Erik had known exactly what I needed.
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Emptiness