Dislcaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.

Hello! And I'm back! This is a light-hearted, steamy little one-shot with Erik and Christine that I hope you guys will like! I put it under romance/humor simply because Christine is a bit OOC in this story as the Christine I usually write would never attempt something like this! It's my first M story (even though I still feel as if White Roses Red deserves an M...) so hopefully I didn't fail too miserably. This little plot bunny hopped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down! Plus, it's a nice break from my horror one-shots. :-)

Christine fell into her plush dressing room chair with a huff.

Erik was impossible.

It had been an entire month since Erik had laid a hand on her, whether in passing or romantically speaking and she could only blame herself. If she hadn't of had that stupid nightmare none of this would be a problem. It was as if they hadn't been married for five years and had a good two years of acquaintance before that! She had a particularly terrible dream one night about a month ago and had awoken to her husband's bare face beside her, which had unfortunately startled her even further, which in turn made her scream,which in turn made Erik think that the nightmare had been about him, which in turn made him distant and cold, which in turn made for a grumpy Christine.

A very grumpy Christine.

Christine crossed her arms and shot a glare at her floor length mirror that she knew he wasn't behind yet.

Christine groaned and shut her eyes. It had been a long rehearsal and all she wanted was a little attention from Erik…something she knew she wouldn't get with him like he was at the moment. She pursed her lips and looked back at the mirror. He would be behind it any minute now to take her home, or at least to his underground house that they stayed at on nights she had particularly late rehearsals; take tonight for example.

She had always wondered how Erik had procured a mirror that you could see straight through from one side but only your reflection form the other, but at the same time she didn't wish to know all of his secrets-

Christine froze, still staring at the mirror. Erik could see straight through it….and he would be there in a matter of minutes…Christine sat up straighter in her chair, admiring the image of herself in the mirror, her mind spinning with an idea to break the bad air between the two of them.

Christine gave a devious little smile before rising up out of her chair and beginning to undo the buttons on the front of her dress.

And thus she kickstarted her plan into action.

Erik had only a few feet between him and the hidden door that was Christine's dressing room mirror when he stopped dead in his tracks.

No, it can't be…

Erik inhaled sharply and took another step forward, ogling at the sight before him. There, backside towards him, stood his wife stark naked in front of her mirror.

Erik thought he may never breathe again.

Had he seen her naked? Of course he had, many, many times, but never….never in this much light. It had always been dark, or at the very most dimly lit. But to see her in broad daylight with not even a chemise covering her? Now that was a sight he had never even dreamed of laying eyes on.

And then slowly, she turned around.

Oh, she turned around….

Nipples pointed straight outward and her breasts teased him through the mirror's glass. He let his eyes trail downward from her chest to where her most precious secrets lie under a tuft of curls and let his eyes linger for just a moment before she moved again to grab a brush off of her vanity. Completely nude and completely exposed to his gaze, Christine began to brush through her long locks of hair, taking her time as she worked out any knots as she came to them.

And Erik drank in every second of it.

He almost felt as if he was invading her privacy, standing there watching her do the simplest tasks, but yet he couldn't find the strength nor the willpower to rip his eyes away. He could imagine his hands running over every inch of her, could imagine those intoxicating little sounds she would make when he happened to touch just the right place. He felt the warm, welcoming feeling of desire begin to build up in the pit of his stomach. Oh what he would give to crash through the mirror and take what had been his to take for the last five years— but he refused to do so.

Christine was terrified of him.

For if not, why else had she screamed at the mere sight if his face?

So many times she had lied to him about his face not bothering her, so many caresses...and lies…so many lies….

His wife was a better actress than he thought.

Christine dropped the brush on the floor with a clatter. Christine looked down in surprise as she turned her bottom back to Erik's view, casting a look towards the mirror over her shoulder before bending over to retrieve the hairbrush, making sure to take her precious time coming back up. She proceeded to place the brush on the vanity and then walk over to the sofa that was in the middle of the room, swaying her hips back forth. Slowly, she sat on it, her gaze once again focusing on the mirror.

She must know I'm here…Erik thought, panic seeping into his emotions. She knew he was invading her privacy, she knew what a monster he was for watching her so shamelessly from behind her mirror, she knew—

Erik gasped.

Christine sat, legs spread on her sofa, her own fingers teasing at what was his.

A flash of jealousy lit up within him as his eyes locked on hers from his place behind the mirror. He knew what he must do.

Erik ripped open the door that dared to be a barrier between him and his Christine and rushed to her side. He took her wrists in his hands and kissed her on the mouth, ignoring the surprised gasp that came from his beloved's lips as she fell backwards onto the sofa. Christine deepened the kiss and maneuvered her hands to begin unfastening Erik's shirt buttons. After a few failed attempts, Christine began pulling at the seams hoping it would rip as she refused to break the kiss between her and Erik to look down. However Erik was the one to break away, releasing Christine's wrists in the process.

Christine was breathless as she took the opportunity to undo a few of his buttons, refusing to let a moment pass where she wasn't touching him in someway.

"Christine…forget about the damn shirt…" Erik replied hastily as he yanked down his trousers and pressed himself against Christine.

Christine hummed in agreement and took him by the shirt collar to pull him down on top of her so that they were both lying down.

"I missed you…." Christine got out between kisses as Erik began trailing kisses down her bosom. Christine couldn't decide if Erik had ignored her or simply hadn't heard her as he continued his quest down her stomach.

"Christine…" Erik moaned as he reached his favorite part of her.

Christine threw her head back and arched beneath him as she felt Erik's fingers opening her folds. She let out a small squeak of approval and shivered as she pushed up against his hand. "Please…" was the only coherent word she was able to form.

After a moment, Christine felt something replace his fingers, something warm and familiar and completely foreign all at the same time. She let out a cry that was full of both of frustration and pleasure as she sank down into the sofa so as to deepen their union. Her hips bucked up and Erik took it as permission to grab her hips and meld them both into a steady rhythm that grew faster as the urgent need for one another took over. Christine cried out, her legs wrapping around her husband as he continued.

The world came in and out of view for Christine, blurring in front of her before going completely dark...

Christine finally came to— unsure if she had been out mere seconds or hours— only to find Erik lying on top of her, eyes shut, pinning her to the sofa. They both laid there skin to skin as Christine listened to their racing heartbeats and labored breaths. Christine stroked her husband's hair, letting him sleep peacefully on top of her.

She let her eyes drift shut for a moment as she relished simply holding Erik close to her.

Where he belongs, she thought contentedly.

Erik stirred and stared at her for a moment, convinced he was living in a dream.

"Hello," Christine's voice broke the silence.

"Hello," Erik's shaky voice answered back.

So it wasn't a dream after all…

Erik quickly rose so that he was sitting, Christine's legs still spread in front of him. Oh what a monster he was! He had taken advantage of her- and on the sofa for that matter! He would never be forgiven….

"Christine, I….you must forgive your poor Erik-"

"For what?" Christine cut in, a blissful smile playing at her slightly swollen lips.

Erik paused, confused. "For taking you without warning, for invading your privacy-"

Christine laughed, playing with the buttons on his shirt that had managed to remain buttoned- which wasn't many. "You silly man…you did no such thing." Christine sat up as well so that they were looking eye to eye. "Do you honestly think I would've let you do such a thing if I hadn't intended for it? Well…" Christine blushed, rethinking her words. Why yes, she would've happily let him do that without her planning for it to happen and she would happily let it happen again…

"I don't understand," Erik said simply, running a hand down Christine's cheek as he allowed her to push his shirt off his shoulders. "You're terrified of me!" Erik finally cried out, letting his hand drop.

"Oh for goodness sakes, Erik! I wasn't scared of you! You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I needed...I wanted you to comfort me, not abandon me…I was scared because of my dream, never of you." Christine placed her forehead against his forehead, wanting more from him, needing more from him.

"Twenty-eight days," Erik whispered as he shook his head. "I fought so hard to stay away-"

Christine cut him off with a kiss, placing her hands on either side of his face, fingers curling around his mask. Erik's hand grabbed her wrists so as to stop her from removing it from his face, but Christine continued anyway.

"No," Erik feebly protested, but let her remove it anyway.

He trembled as he watched her set it aside and then look at him fully exposed to her, the noseless skull that he was.

And then the most impossible phrase came from her lips. The most impossible, wonderful phrase:

"I love you."

And Erik almost believed her.

To think, he wasted an entire month that could have been spent in bliss wallowing around in self hatred and sorrow- and what for? Nothing.

"Say it again," Erik ordered, leaning in closer so that he could feel her breath on his face.

"I love you."

And this time, Erik believed wholeheartedly that the words she uttered were true.

"I love you," he whispered back before closing the distance between them and starting his favorite pastime all over again.

The End.