Chapter Text
Erik woke to a warm ball of fluff curled against his chest, purring gently.
It was a rarity that Ayesha was so close, even to him. She was as much a loner as he was, though he supposed all must succumb to the need for affection at some point. She rarely slept with him, firstly because, until recently, he had almost never fallen asleep in a predictable pattern, and secondly she hated to be disturbed by his tossing and turning, murmuring or shouting that stemmed from his dreams - or more commonly, nightmares.
He smiled as he stroked her back. Her soft fur was pale here, unlike her face, paws, and tail. With a small noise only to be described as a cat sound, she stretched and rolled over in his chest, her luminous blue eyes meeting his with her usual slate-eyed stare.
Once she tired of his affection, he followed her in getting up from the couch, and after a little investigation found that he had slept not two but four hours, and that Christine was not home yet. He sighed, ready to return to the couch and sleep off his despair, but then her previous words caught in his mind. "Relax," she had said... hmm.
He could certainly help her with this, he could do anything for her and relaxation was no issue. He wasn't exactly an expert in relaxing, per se, but he had gathered enough of her habits to understand the fundamentals. And of course he knew all facts Christine-related.
He gave Ayesha one last pet - she hissed at him - and set off on his task.
It was an entire hour before Christine returned, an hour which would have been far less bearable had he not been occupied with her request. But then the front door was opening, and Christine was stepping through, looking just as she had when she left, if a tad more tired.
"Hello, mon ange," he greeted her, poking his head out from the kitchen. "Your timing is impeccable. Would you like some tea?"
He disappeared without awaiting her reply, emerging only a moment later with a steaming teacup. Before she had even struggled out of her coat he had made it to the door, removing the wool garment with one hand as he held the tea steady.
"How was the rehearsal?" he questioned, handing over the tea which she sipped gratefully, smiling up at him with the warm smile that he so adored. "Was that atrocious violin still off on the fourth page of act two?"
Christine blew on her tea lightly, sending a little curl of steam twisting off the glassy, milky surface (Christine favored chai, because the cardamom reminded her of her homeland in Scandanavia).
"It was excellent, I believe our show is well on it's way to readiness," she declared. Erik hung her coat near the door, anxious to show her his surprise.
"Wonderful, mon coeur."
"... And yes, the violin did miss nearly a measure of the arpeggio."
Erik shook his head forlornly.
"We pray for salvation from his massacre de la musique."
Christine released a small snort of a laugh, which sent ripples across the surface of her tea. Her brown eyes were sparkling, and Erik took a moment to drink in the sight of her looking up at him.
"You're so dramatic, kära."
His heart sent warmth pulsing through his body at her term of endearment, and he smiled softly.
"We cannot stand for poor use of a gorgeous instrument," he murmured, placing his hands softly on her shoulders and leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. A pink blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes heavy with the weight of the double meaning. "Speaking of which," he added, turning his head to speak into her ear. "I believe it is time for your desired relaxation."
Christine shivered, and he pressed another short kiss to the top of her cheekbone. She turned her head to match the angle of his, speaking into his ear now - or as close as she could reach.
"Carry me?" She whispered, her beautiful voice falling on his senses like a thick syrup. Without answering, Erik ghosted his hands down her sides until he reached her hips, sliding under her legs so he had leverage to pull her up against him, lifting her off the floor. Her layered gown sent a waterfall of ruffles behind her, and he found she had already slipped her shoes off when she wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles and bunching her skirts around her thighs.
Mon Dieu, she was beautiful, and she was completely wrapped around him - but he was on a mission, and he swore to himself to carry out his task with utmost focus.
He brought her to their (their!) bedroom, and deposited her carefully in her dressing chair, ending up kneeling before her since he had to crouch so low. She reached out for him as he stood, and he captured her hand in his, kissing her fingers one by one before releasing it. He glanced up at her face, seeing her lips slightly open and her eyes lidded. She did look relaxed, so he counted it as a step toward victory. Christine took his hand, bringing it to her lips just as he had with hers.
"I like your hands," she murmured against his skin. Erik's face heated up with the compliment. "I like your fingers." She glanced up at him and held eye contact on the last word.
Erik fought not to squirm as heat filled his body, dripping down his spine to pool in the bottom of his stomach. He took a moment to gather his voice.
"Yes, well, they're very good for-" she continued pressing his fingers to her lips "-piano, and- and violin."
She took a moment to kiss his palm before pulling back to reply.
"They're very good for other things as well," she purred, clear suggestion in her voice.
Erik caught onto her meaning immediately and mentally shook himself, reminded of his task.
"Yes!" He said slightly too enthusiastically. He tried to calm himself. Focus. "Of course, my love."
Christine smiled up at him, relaxing back against her chair. He glanced up and down her body, stricken. He swallowed hard, and moved around the back of her chair. Christine tilted her head back to look at him in confusion as he began unpinning her curls.
"What are you doing?" She looked both adorable and slightly amusing speaking upsidedown. Erik smiled at her.
"Undoing your hair, love."
Christine's confusion didn't quite clear from her face, but she turned her head to it's ordinary position. He didn't understand her question; it was a fairly ordinary thing to help her with her hair, and he was quite skilled at it. She was right, his long fingers and their inherent dexterity made this an easy task. Erik combed through the free strands of her hair, deftly removing small hidden clips and unbinding her twists and pins. It didn't take long before her curls were free, and he took up a comb from the vanity to gently work through her hair, starting from the bottom as she had shown him. She leaned her head against the back of the chair, releasing a contented breath. His chest swelled with pride as he finished her hair, leaning over the seat back to press an upside down kiss to her mouth.
Her mouth was relaxed and open, and she held on to him longer than he had intended. He suppressed a small noise as she bit his lip when he tried to pull back, and submitted himself to her whims. Her hands came up to keep his head near hers, her tongue sliding into his mouth and oh God, he was trying to focus-
He was breathing hard by the time she released him, trying to ignore the rise and fall of her chest before his eyes. He stood up straight, running a hand through his hair to return it to it's proper place. He struggled to return his pulse to it's normal rate, taking slow breaths.
"Now, my dear," he said, trying to keep the slightly ragged undercurrent out of his voice. His plans would never be completed if she kept distracting him. He came around to the front of her chair, taking her hands and tugging to indicate that she should stand, which she did. "May I?" He asked, resting his hands on the fastening of her dress. Christine nodded enthusiastically.
Erik set to work on her dress. She kept sliding her hands up to his collar, pulling at his cravat and then at the lapels of his suit jacket. He occasionally paused his work to bat her hands away, but by the time he had reached her corset she had removed the apparently offending fabric from around his neck and undone the top of his shirt. He stepped around her back to undo the stays and lacing on the corset, grateful for the reprieve from her assault on his clothing. He pulled away the shell of her corset, then set to work on the underlayers. Christine leaned back against him as he slipped the final layer from her shoulders. He couldn't help running his hands across the smooth skin of her shoulders, and she shivered when he did so. His hands were always cold, and the contrasting heat of her skin certainly would make the temperature more shocking.
He took her hands, leading her through the door in their room to the large bathroom. Already the tub was filled, steam rising from the surface along with the scent of the oils he had added. The water was tinted a faint pink, a result of Christine's favored lilac scent. He had spent almost twenty minutes selecting the array of additives perfect for Christine's relaxation time, and had settled on a mostly floral combination that relied on all her favorites.
"Erik, it smells wonderful," she looked up at him with wide eyes. "You did this while I was gone?"
Erik beamed down at her.
"Yes, for you, mon ange," he replied.
Christine's eyes lit up and she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his ribcage in one of the hugs she was so fond of, and he even managed not to jump back, catching her small body against his. She went up on her tiptoes, kissing his collarbone, which was about as high as she could reach without bending down or lifting her up.
"Thank you!"
She bounced away from him to the tub, dipping her fingers in the water. Erik followed, bending to kiss her hair once more. She took advantage of his bending over and grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a proper kiss. She had been half sideways, so she turned so that her back was to the porcelain rim, their fronts pressed together. Erik wondered if, naked as she was, his clothes were bothering her, since she was pressed very tightly against them.
Christine chased his mouth as he lifted her up and into the tub. The water settled slowly around her, and he was bent nearly in half to maintain contact. He pulled away, standing to remove his suit jacket, which was becoming uncomfortable in the humidity.
"I shall return shortly," he told her. He went to the kitchen to retrieve the second part of her surprise, which came in the form of a tray of kanelbulle. He balanced the tray on one hand, collecting the pot of remaining chai with the other.
Christine was comfortably settled in the warm water when he returned, eyes closed and lashes dusting the tops of her cheeks. He often thought that it looked as if her freckles were painted by the ends of her eyelashes fluttering against her skin, like stars in the sky.
She opened her eyes when she heard him settle beside the tub. They went to his half-marred face before flicking down to the food on the tray.
"Min favorit!" she exclaimed. She took one and immediately bit into it. "I love it!" She said, though her mouth was filled with bread so it didn't sound correct. "Thank you." She took another bite.
"Are they good?" Erik asked anxiously. "I didn't want to try one, in case there were not enough."
Christine beamed at him. "They're excellent, here, eat one."
She quite literally shoved the kanelbulle into his mouth, ignoring his mild protest. He bit into it, and had to admit it tasted very much like the ones she had made him, which meant they were acceptable.
"It was so kind of you to do all this for me," Christine said, her words sincere but made less somber than they might have been by the pastry she was currently devouring.
"Anything for you, mon ange," he promised.
An hour later, Christine was out of the bath and wrapped in an extremely fluffy towel, sitting on their bed as Erik took the dishes to the kitchen. When he returned, he went to the wardrobe to retrieve a simple and comfortable dress for Christine.
"Are you properly relaxed, Christine?" he asked, smiling at her mildly sleepy expression.
"I am very relaxed, thank you." She laid back, scrunching her towel around her as if it were a plush blanket.
He continued perusing her collection of dresses. Why did she have so many?
Probably because he had bought them for her. Ah, yes, that.
"Did it live up to your expectations?" he asked absently, reaching behind the first row of dresses to look through the second. He really should stop buying so many.
"My expectations?" At the confused note in her voice, Erik glanced over at her for, on the bed. She was sitting up now, though she hadn't brought the towel up with her, and he locked his gaze on the one freckle on her collarbone.
"Yes. You said this morning that you would like to relax," he explained. "You seemed... nervous? Did you think I would not agree?"
He turned around to truly face her as she stared at him. Her expression was puzzled for a moment, before it cleared with realization.
"Erik I meant..." she smiled fondly, and shook her head. It was now Erik's turn to grow confused. "When I said 'relax' I meant as in..." a strong blush overtook her cheeks, creeping up her neck as well. It was very cute, but Erik still did not understand. She didn't continue, clearly embarrassed, and instead beckoned him closer. He complied, dropping the clothing he had been examining. When he was standing before her she spoke again.
"I meant like this," she said, abruptly pulling him between her knees, spreading them wider so he had a clear view when she brought her hand between her legs. She tugged him closer, and he looked down, enraptured by her hand, it's movements against her, the dwindling proximity between her and his hips as she moved him closer and-
"Oh," he breathed as he realized. That was why she kept distracting him! The kisses, and his hands- "Oh. Oh," he said again, finally understanding. He smirked at her. "You should have said so, Christine."
Christine remained blushing, but he thought the cause might be shifting. He clasped her wrist gently and pulled it away, bringing her fingers to his mouth to kiss. She brushed her towel away completely, backing up on the bed to create room for him to stand between her legs and lean down to reach her face. He brushed his lips against hers, trailing off to kiss her cheek, then her ear, then down her neck to the top of her shoulder. He pulled back to meet her brown eyes with his blue and gold ones. The freckles on her cheek matched the one on her collarbone. He pressed a final kiss to her lips before retreating, settling on his knees before her.
She let out a small noise as he kissed her navel, then her hip. He looked up as she slid a hand into his hair. Her eyes were sparkling, her pupils wide.
"That, my love, I can absolutely do."
- - - -
la fin