A/N: Based on an idea that I said I would never write…but then immediately wrote like three days later ;) Originally posted to Tumblr for not-what-leroux-had-in-mind's NSFW Inktober 2018 Day 3 prompt - masturbating.

Christine was at the Opéra for a costume fitting - there were no rehearsals, no lesson with her Angel - but Erik found it unbearable to be so many stories below when she was there above, so near and yet still so far away from him. He came to the mirror with innocent enough intent, only wanting to see her and take comfort in her presence. He found her seated on the floor across from the little Giry girl. There was a basket between them, filled with a meager feast of pears, cheese, bread, and a cheap bottle of wine.

Erik had never taken much pleasure in food, but he enjoyed observing his angel nibble and chat away with her friend - so full of life and light, ever the opposite of the dark figure stalking her. Christine took a generous bite of one of the pears, a shiver running through him as she moaned softly in appreciation. It was perfectly ripe, and a trickle of clear liquid trailed down her chin. What had been a simple indoor picnic was now something that felt suddenly forbidden to him...but he could not look away.

Blood pounded madly in his ears as he watched her tongue dart out to catch a drop of juice from the corner of her mouth, then again to lick the pad of her thumb. He wanted to seize her wrist and take her delicate fingers into his mouth to savor the sugary remnants of the fruit on her skin. Wanted to crush her to his chest and claim her lips, kissing away every last bit of syrup until only the taste of Christine remained. It would be a sin to plunder her perfect mouth with his crooked one, he knew, and yet still he wanted it. Wanted her.

His treacherous mind brought forth memories of all the times Christine had smiled for her Angel and told him that she lived only to please him... Unable or unwilling to stop himself, Erik imagined her smiling up at him now from her perch on the floor, her pink lips and tongue tasting him with the same relish as the pear still dripping down her hand. He bit his fist to keep from groaning as the fantasy shifted to him joining her on the rug, pushing her miles of skirts up around her waist to bury his horrid face between her legs and devour the sweetness hidden there.

His pulse was reaching a dangerous pace, and he leaned heavily against the wall to keep from sinking to his knees. He needed to leave, to conceal his disgusting passions deep below the earth where they couldn't taint the gentle, innocent creature on the other side of the glass. It was a struggle to remain silent as he finally tore himself away from the mirror and turned down the endless maze of corridors leading to the lake. He stumbled more than once and nearly dropped the lantern, his palm rough and red from dragging it along the stone walls to keep himself upright.

It occurred to Erik that he would likely capsize the boat and quite literally drown himself in desire if he tried to navigate across the lake in his desperate state. Ducking into an alcove, he extinguished the lantern and became no more than another shadow in the darkness. Although there was no possibility of being discovered, he would not take any chances. He hissed as he wrenched open his trousers, gritting his teeth to hold back a moan of relief as he slid his fist up and down the length of his aching flesh.

Alone in the dark, Erik's mind transported him back to Christine's dressing room, conjuring up tantalizing images of the two of them entwined in a profane union between angel and demon. And yet the scene was altogether human at the same time… He would be a man to her, at last - no longer some distant, heavenly being - and she would be a woman, all softness and welcoming heat. The thought of her golden voice gasping his true name as he moved within her was enough to send him over the edge. He clamped his free hand over his mouth, too late to muffle a guttural cry of ecstasy. But shudders of pleasure quickly turned to sobs wracking his thin frame.

Even cloaked in the utter darkness of the cellars, Erik could not bring himself to remove the mask outside the sanctuary of his home. And so he choked and sputtered for air, hands trembling violently as he put himself to rights before collecting the lantern and relighting it after a few failed attempts. Filled with shame and self-loathing, he forced his feet to carry him the rest of the way to the lake then across in the boat. His cursed body was sated but his mind railed against itself for daring to fantasize that Christine would ever allow a beast such as himself to prey upon her beauty.