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Catch the Thunder	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Fairy Tail Views: 17785 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail is the property of Hiro Mashima. I make no money, I just do this for my own pleasure.

Chapter List
- 40
- 41
- 42
A/N: I blame Sass-queen-justine for these drawings of “Phantom” Freed:
http://sass-queen-justine.tumblr.com/post/130307352372/
http://sass-queen-justine.tumblr.com/post/132319815987/
A quick note for anyone unfamiliar with "Phantom of the Opera." The Phantom is a musical genius with a deformed face who wears a mask and calls himself the Angel of Music to deceive the heroine, Christine. The love interest is Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny, a nobleman and childhood friend of the chorus-girl-turned-opera-star, Christine Daaé. Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical includes a love duet between Raoul and Christine, "All I Ask of You." In the story, the Phantom has many commands for the managers of "his" opera house, including that Box 5 be left empty. Some of the lines in this chapter come from the songs in the musical. I highly recommend the book, the musical, or the film of the musical with Gerard Butler as the Phantom.
Audio: http://chirb.it/qPnaG6 (You've got to hear Laxus sing! I don't do justice to what I imagine in my head.)
Chapter 41
Angel of Music
When Freed said he adored the music of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, he should have said "fanboy-for-life with major obsession issues including a closet full of cosplay outfits, from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat to School of Rock, with outfits for Evita, Sunset Boulevard, Jesus Christ Superstar, and too-many-to-be-sane outfits for Cats." So when he showed up at the Magnolia Opera House, not in his regular nice clothes, but in a cape and white mask, Laxus literally face-palmed.
"Really, Freed? Really?" he muttered. "This is why it took you so long? This is why you kicked me out and said you'd meet me here?"
Freed gave an exuberant bow, swirling his cape. "I aim only to inspire."
"Freed, quit it," Laxus grumbled. He sighed and shook his head. "Shit, I should have known you were up to something weird."
He grinned and grabbed around Laxus' arm. "It's Phantom. This is seriously my favorite musical of all-time. The other times I've gone have been with my family. There was no way I could dress up." He bounced on his toes. "Now, I can finally live out a dream of mine."
"To dress like a murderer who seduces young actresses?"
He scoffed and held his chin high. "You wouldn't understand."
"Obviously not. I swear, if you jump up and dance in the aisles during Masquerade, I'll throw you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone."
Freed laughed and entered the opera house in high spirits. Laxus immediately went to the will-call booth and gave his name for the tickets in wait. He accepted them and passed one over to Freed. He looked down, curious what sort of seats Laxus managed to get to opening night and on such short notice. As he saw the seating number, Freed's boyish grin cracked. He stopped dead in the middle of the foyer, staring down at the ticket. Then he glanced up sadly at Laxus, who was busy glancing around, trying to find where they sold the wine.
"Laxus?"
He hummed and looked down. "Ya okay?"
Freed tucked the ticket into his pocket. "Wine is to the left. Um … I'm going to look at the merchandise. Meet me here."
"Sure. Don't go too crazy buying stuff, fanboy," he teased, nipping Freed on the chin.
Freed tried to laugh, but he turned away looking disappointed.
After waiting far too long in a line for wine, Laxus returned to the waiting spot to see Freed minus the mask and cape, although the rest of the outfit was still regal. He had a large gift bag stuffed with the rest of his costume.
"What's up? Couldn't see through the mask?" Laxus saw right away, Freed looked upset. Instincts to protect him kicked in. "Did some asshole tease you about dressing up?" he growled. Freed shook his head but said nothing. Laxus then wondered if this was about his exasperation earlier. "Really, if you wanna wear the mask—"
"Never call my father again!" he snapped.
Laxus flinched and pulled back. "What?"
Freed held up his ticket. "I've sat in these seats so many times, I can tell you exactly where Bickslow stuck his bubblegum when we were kids. My family always gets these seats. The only way you could have gotten them is through my father." He shook his head. "Dammit, I was wondering how you managed tickets to opening night. You said you had connections. You used my father!"
"I asked if he happened to have tickets."
In disgust, yet trying not to raise his voice, Freed growled, "How often do you meet with my father?"
"I didn't meet him. I called him on the phone."
"You chat with my father over the phone? Do you text each other, too?" he snapped in outrage.
"No!" Laxus barked, but he brought his voice back down, realizing they were in a busy foyer. "That was the first time I have ever called him. I knew he had a connection to the opera house."
"My family has a connection," he emphasized. "This!" He held up the ticket again. "It's not like you bought it. It's my money, my family's money."
"Because I don't have money like that, Freed," he whispered, angry that he had to admit to his own personal destitution. "I'm sorry, but I don't. You want a date with me, on my paycheck? You'll be going to car shows and eating Jack-in-the-Box. You wanted to see Phantom; I said I'd get tickets. I didn't say where I'd get them from. Would it have been better if I got them through one of my old clients?"
Freed's fist clenched the gift bag, and in a scathing whisper he spat out, "That's … precisely … what … you … did!"
Laxus took a step back at the fury in those turquoise eyes. Freed was right. He had seen it as just calling up Freed's father, but he had also gotten that favor from an old client. He hoped Freed did not ask the damning question: had Llewellyn flirted on the phone?
"I apologize," he said humbly, casting his eyes down. "I won't call him again unless it's specifically about you."
Freed still felt deep disappointment. He thought Laxus truly went out of his way to get these tickets. The romantic side of him imagined Laxus calling the opera house for any cancellations, frantic to get two seats together for the show. Instead, he simply called and got a favor from—of all people—Freed's own father.
"Never call him."
"From now on, only in an emergency."
Freed nodded, and his fist loosened up. "Sorry," he sighed, feeling weary now.
Laxus wanted to take him into his arms, caress him, and whisper apologies to show how sorry he was for upsetting Freed. Instead, a woman with a child in tow bumped into his elbow and apologized as she walked on. He glanced around at the milling crowd and pouted.
"Can we go anywhere? Some … I dunno … secret VIP room for rich shits?"
Freed laughed, and shook his head. "No, but there might be a closet."
"Nah, I hate being in the closet," Laxus grumbled with a soft chuckle at the joke, "but I can't do what I want here."
Freed raised an eyebrow and whispered in scandal, "No blow jobs."
"No," he laughed, realizing that was of course Freed's first impression. "Just apologize properly."
Freed realized they really did need a moment together, and no matter the gender, that sort of display would not be appropriate in this location. "The wine cellar. I have access for inspections."
He led the way, and Laxus followed. The cellar was locked, but Freed pulled a key card out and swiped it. They went down a flight of stairs into a chilled, darkened area.
"Going under the opera house. You really are the Phantom of the Opera."
Freed glanced back with a sly smirk. "Does that make you Christine?"
Laxus' eyes narrowed. "You're getting your ass beaten later for that."
Freed hummed sensually with a gleam in his eyes. They came to a cold room with wine barrels and racks of bottles. Freed pulled Laxus a little to the side, between the racks.
"We're out of sight here."
Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed into a crushing hug, throwing him off balance for a moment. He wrapped Freed up in a strong, protective embrace, nuzzling into the scent of his hair.
"I am really, really sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I shouldn't have used your family like that."
Freed leaned against the large chest with a small, relieved smile. "I don't mind that you used my family's tickets. It's that you went behind my back and asked a favor of my father. If it had been anyone else in the family … but not him!" He clenched Laxus' suit coat as he felt a stinging in his eyes from the threat of tears. "Look, sometimes it's just … hard. Awkward. I can't even look at my father anymore without realizing … you and him—"
"Freed!" Laxus gasped, hurt by this deep pain in the man he loved.
"You even said, he was a problem. You had to punch him just to get him away from you. He's … a man who doesn't give up easily," Freed said delicately, cringing at having to think badly of his own father. "I know that more than anyone. And … and I'm afraid … he's not going to give up on you. Asking favors of him … he'll want a favor in return. I don't want you in his debt. At all! Ever!" he shouted, looking angry now. His voice dropped back to a breathy whisper tense with the tears he fought back. "Don't call my father again. Don't ever ask him for a favor. If you keep his hopes up … he's a businessman to the core. He won't let go of a favorable opportunity if there still seems to be an interest in an offer."
Laxus grabbed Freed's shoulders, yanked him back enough to look into his eyes, and bellowed in disgust, "I'm not at all interested!" His voice echoed between wine barrels and cases of bottles. Softer, gently, he swore, "I never have been. Ever. Only one man. Only you."
The tears finally slipped over the edges of his eyes. "I know," Freed said with a tremble. "But … more than one man has been interested in you. I get jealous at times when I stop and think about it. I don't like being jealous of my own father. It's … disgusting," he admitted sadly.
Laxus sighed and rubbed Freed's arms, hoping to support him. "How do you think I feel?"
Freed looked up in confusion.
"Freed, you're sexy as fuck. People around you notice."
He laughed bashfully. "No, I'm n-…"
"They do," he insisted. "You've gotta be blind if you don't see all the bitches checking you out."
Freed's nose cringed. "Well, maybe, but I'm not interested in women."
"No, but they're interested in you."
Freed realized what he was saying. It was the same thing. Maybe Laxus was not interested, but Llewellyn was; maybe Freed was not interested, but plenty of women were.
"Well then," he decided, wrapping his arms around Laxus' waist, "we have to protect one another from our rabid horde of admirers."
Laxus snorted out a laugh, and grabbed Freed into a hug. "You protect my front, and I'll watch your back." He suddenly grabbed Freed's ass, making him yelp. "I'll watch it good!"
"Laxus!"
He pulled back with a smirk. "But if we don't get to our seats, we'll miss the intro. Lead the way, Phantom."
Freed chuckled, stepped forward, and crooked his finger. "Follow me, Christine."
"Fuck you. I more see myself as Raoul."
Freed swirled around and cupped Laxus' chin, singing up to him from the musical, "Love meeeeee! That's all I ask of you."
Laxus' cheeks flushed as he stared in surprise. There was nothing he could say, and besides, now Freed was laughing at his awestruck expression. The green hair flipped as he swirled away and began to walk off. Laxus trotted after his bitch … no … his angel of music.
They made their way back to the foyer and up to the box seats. Two burly men in black, obviously private guards, stood outside of the entrance. Even Laxus realized that these men looked tough.
"Ah, so he's here," Freed said to himself.
Laxus was about to ask who, but Freed went right past the guards, barely looking at them. There was a small lounge where the VIPs in the box could enjoy themselves before the show and during intermission without being forced to mingle with the crowd. Laxus knew he should have expected Mister Justine, fucking rich CEO, would not have casual seats, or even front row seats, but a whole private box. Two people were already sitting in the lounge sipping glasses of wine.
"Ah, so we're honored to have the young Justine tonight," said a man with dark hair, narrow eyes, and a smile that was both regal and devious.
"Senator Geer," Freed said, nodding with genteel familiarity. "I thought those were your security guards at the box entrance."
"Please, just Mard. I'm here to enjoy the show, nothing more."
"Mard Geer," Laxus whispered, eying the man he had only seen on television, either in campaign ads or on the news. "I voted for you."
"Did you?" the man laughed. "Well, thank you for your support."
"Senator Geer, this is my boyfriend, Laxus Dreyar."
"Oh!" he said in mild amusement, shaking hands with Laxus. Then his dark eyes slid over to Freed. "Your father knows about this, right?"
With a stiff smile, Freed replied, "He's aware of my orientation, and of the man I've been dating since last summer."
"Just making sure," Mard said, trying to sound appeasing. "These things can cause scandals."
Laxus bristled, but Freed's official mask of geniality did not crack. With the same plastered smile, he retorted, "Maybe in the past the gay son of a CEO could cause the family problems, but this is a new age. Those prejudices are going away."
"A new age indeed!" Mard lifted his glass. "To tolerance, and to love. My dear Seilah, please get these gentlemen some wine. We should toast properly."
"Yes, sir," the woman said.
Freed raised an eyebrow at the busty woman in a gown that showed off her assets too bounteously for his liking. "Your … secretary?"
Mard's sly smirk lifted. "My wife knows, in case that's your concern. We have … a liberal arrangement." He saw that Freed was still eying Seilah with a pinch to his brow. "Come now, young Justine! You can't expect people to accept you for being gay if you can't accept me for being polyamorous. That's hardly fair."
Freed gave an expiatory tip of his head. "My apologies, Senator."
"Just Mard tonight, please." The curvaceous woman in question handed the two young men crystal wineglasses. "To love and tolerance, and to a new age of acceptance."
"Cheers," Freed chuckled, clinking glasses.
Laxus only grunted as he also toasted with them. Immediately after a sip of the wine to be courteous, he slipped away while Freed and Mard continued to talk.
The lounge opened to the seats. They were to the side but right next to the stage, providing a commanding view of the action. Laxus now wondered what Freed must have thought of the tickets Mira gave them to see the opera. Why would she have given him tickets anyway, knowing his family had their own box?
Unless Freed utterly hated sitting here. Laxus heard the stiffness of his voice when talking to Mard Geer. Although he was smiling and amiable, Laxus could tell it was forced. Probably all the people with box seats were like that, with fake smiles and always aware of their social standing.
Mira must have given Freed those tickets so he could watch in peace, as just another person in the crowd, and not as the young Justine.
"I fucked up," he muttered to himself.
He never should have relied on Llewellyn Justine for tickets. Now Freed could not come in cosplay as he had wanted, so excited to wear that silly mask and cape, living out a dream of his as he had put it. Now he had to be the son of a well-known CEO, entertaining one of the most politically powerful men in the country.
He heard soft footsteps behind him and leaped around. Seilah was coming forward, and in her hand was a tumbler of golden alcohol.
"The senator called for wine, but you look like a man who prefers something stronger." She held out the glass.
"What's in it?" Laxus asked as he gave the drink a sniff. Whiskey!
"Glenfiddich," she replied.
Laxus grunted, not too surprised VIP seating like this would also have high quality scotch. "Next time, no ice." Then he drank half of it in one go. It hit strong, just how he liked it.
"There will be another regular joining us tonight."
"Regular?"
"These seats are usually reserved for … special guests, such as the Justine family. However, they can be sold back to the house for … regular people."
"Commoners," Laxus spat.
She sighed awkwardly. "We don't use that term."
"Yeah, but that's the truth, right. You, me, we're not like those two. You're a secretary, right? And me, I'm a nobody, a total nobody. I wonder all the time what the hell Freed sees in me."
"I wonder the same about Mard, but I am thankful for his love."
Laxus grunted again, looking around as the audience filtered in for the start of the show. "Yeah. I'm one damn lucky guy. I still feel out of my league. I mean, he's chatting with a fucking senator like it's nothing, all first-name-basis with a powerful bastard like him … no offense intended toward your boss."
"Your boyfriend does not really know the senator, if that's your fear. I believe they've met only a few times. He's simply being polite, as I'm sure he was raised."
"Yeah, raised to meet a fucking king one day," Laxus grumbled. "The most I got taught in terms of manners was don't put my elbows on the table and chew with my mouth closed, and I still don't do that."
Seilah gave a polite chuckle that Laxus heard was forced as well. He had hoped to find a kindred spirit in her, but perhaps she had been in this sort of world longer than he imagined. She was simply being polite, no different than Freed was inside.
"More whiskey," he demanded, thrusting his glass at her. "No rocks."
She bowed her head and took his tumbler. Laxus pulled out his ticket and looked to see which seat was supposed to be his. Second row. Of course, the senator had the first row. The Justines were rich, but they were still just businessmen, not politicians. Seilah returned with the drink, and Laxus sat in his seat, staring at the stage set up for an auction.
Hardly a minute passed before Freed stepped out of the lounge and joined him. "I'm guessing this will be the last time you take a free favor from my father."
"I didn't know there'd be a fucking senator," Laxus whispered, glaring back to make sure their companions could not hear. "That chick said someone else would be here. Should I brush up on how to fucking curtsy?"
Freed chuckled and shook his head. "Richard Buchanan is an eye doctor."
"Oh, that's not so bad," Laxus decided.
"Well … he's one of the top ophthalmologists in the world. They call him Hoteye."
Laxus rolled his eyes. "Great. An internationally renown doctor, a senator, and a pretty rich boy. Fuck, I might as well be sitting in Box Five and meeting up with the fucking Phantom. Oh wait! I'm sitting next to his cosplaying number one fanboy!"
Freed laughed at his crankiness, and Laxus could hardly help but smile down at that happy face.
"Good seats, at least," he conceded, and took a sip from his tumbler. "Does your family provide the booze as well?"
"Just the wine."
"Damn. I was hoping I could request some Blue Label for the next time we come here. Then again, I guess I can only get real booze in that fancy-ass lounge." He reached over and placed his hand on top of Freed's. With a soft and worried voice, he asked, "Do you hate these seats?"
He jolted and looked up from scanning the audience. "No. These are one of the best seats in the house. I just didn't like how you got them, asking a favor of my father."
"Yeah … I'm sorry about that, really."
Freed sighed and squeezed Laxus' hand. "Forgiven and forgotten."
"I just wouldn't mind coming back. At least here, I get booze … no offense to your family's wine. You get the tickets, though. Any show you want."
"Any show?" he smirked.
"Sure. Any. German opera, ballet, modern dance, I don't care." His hand surreptitiously rubbed up Freed's arm, getting the younger man to blush. "Just being with you is enough."
A voice boomed out, "Young love is a glorious thing!"
They both jumped and turned around sharply to see a towering man with long, bushy, orange hair.
"Doctor Buchanan," Freed said, standing to shake his hand. "It's rare to see you."
"The opening weekend of my favorite musical? Of course I must watch it … with my own eyes!" he laughed, as if that was a great joke for an eye doctor.
Before Laxus had to go through another awkward introduction, the house lights dimmed. Mard Geer and Seilah came out and took their seats as the music began.
The show itself was delightful, with Mira singing the role of Christine. Laxus made it through the intermission mindlessly listening to Richard "Hoteye" Buchanan ramble about some troublesome patient of his in The Netherlands, while debating if drinking the entire bottle of scotch was some sort of social faux pas. After the grand finale, while the actors were taking their bows, Mard Geer stood to leave, not wanting to sit through such a trivial part, which made Freed scowl as he continued to applaud with the rest of the theater.
"At least show appreciation," he grumbled after the senator was gone.
"Guess who I'm not voting for next election," Laxus agreed.
When Mira came out and took her bow, Freed leaped to his feet and cheered loudly. "Brava! Brava, Mira!"
Hoteye leaned over to Laxus. "He knows the lead singer?"
"Childhood friends, apparently," Laxus told him.
They waited in the lounge for the crowd to disperse. Hoteye gave a boisterous farewell as he left, since he had valet parking and did not have to worry about the busy parking lot. That left Freed and Laxus alone in the lounge, sitting on a couch together.
"So, did you enjoy it?" Freed asked, having another glass of wine.
"Mira's voice really fits that role."
"Yeah, like she was born for it. Another Sarah Brightman!" he grinned, excited for his friend.
"I'm glad to see you so happy."
Freed blushed and hid his face down in his wineglass, taking a small sip. Laxus' hand rested on his slender thigh, which made Freed's cheeks feel even hotter.
"After that drop Tuesday … I was really worried about you. I could hardly think about anything else other than wanting to make you happy."
Freed rested his hand on top of Laxus' and threaded his fingers between those thick digits. "You always make me happy. Just seeing you cheers me up after a hard day at the office. Having you on the weekend like this…" He squeezed Laxus' hand. "It's a dream, an incredible dream."
"I'm no dream Freed." He cupped the flushed cheek. "I will always be right here for you."
Such deep, solemn words left Freed speechless. He looked up into those blue eyes, narrow now with seriousness, and felt filled up with the deluge of love in that gaze. Always. He wanted to believe, to hope … maybe … maybe this could be something that could be always. Always them, coming to the theater, sleeping in bed together, eating breakfast while watching the news, doing laundry together, loving and living and just being together … always.
"They probably have security cameras in this room, right?"
Freed laughed softly. Did he really have a wish to make love here, in the middle of the Magnolia Opera House? "I would assume they do for the safety of the patrons."
"Figured as much. But I don't need sex right now. It'd be fun, still … giving you a blow job here."
"G-g-giving me?" he stuttered in surprise.
"Yeah. Treating you, spoiling you, like you always spoil me."
"I … I don't spoil you," he protested.
"Freed, you're giving me a place to live, practically for free."
"You're paying rent," he said timidly.
"I'm paying a fraction of the rent. I saw what the monthly due is. I could never afford even half of that."
Freed cringed. He had tried to keep the actual rent of their condo a secret.
"You spoil me, and not just with your money. With everything you do. With all the love you show me." Laxus chuckled and shook his head. "I'm truly being spoiled. I try to pay you back in what ways I can. Even this, although I screwed up. Anything I can do to repay, to balance things … but it's not enough. A single lifetime isn't enough to pay you back for how rich you've made my life."
Freed felt a shiver of hope again. Was Laxus … maybe … saying…?
His fingers stroked through Freed's silky green hair, watching the dim lounge lights sparking through the strands. "I love you so much."
Tears were threatening to come to his eyes, and his throat choked up as he replied, "I love you, too."
"Freed." Laxus stopped playing with Freed's hair and looked down at him with an austere grimness. "Will you…"
Freed froze, not even breathing. Was he going to ask?
"… let me kiss you?"
His shoulders dropped. A kiss? Freed laughed softly, realizing he was being silly, getting his hopes up like that. He nodded and turned his face up. Laxus had a warm smile as he leaned over and gave Freed a tender kiss.
'Fuck, I couldn't say it! I guess it's not time. We were arguing just earlier. Today wasn't good, that's all. Some other time, then. When it's the perfect time, I'll know it. Maybe then, I'll actually be ready for it, too. Like a fucking ring! Goddammit, what was I thinking, not even having the damn ring. Like I can afford that shit! If I was to pay him back for spoiling me, I should buy my own goddamn ring with my own money. Fuck … and that was a good setup. What the hell is wrong with you, Laxus?'
Despite screaming at himself internally, when Laxus pulled back and saw the relaxed happiness in Freed's face, he knew he did not have to worry. There was time.
Besides, he had a plan, a special surprise for their one-year anniversary. Today just seemed really good. Or maybe the scare on Tuesday messed up his brain, made him terrified about losing Freed. He should not ask something like that if it was out of fear. It should be purely out of a desire to make this love truly always and forever.
"Are you ready for some dinner?"
Freed overcame his nervousness and nodded. Besides, he wanted to be the one to ask. Laxus may think he was spoiled, but Freed knew the truth. Money was just money, and it was his father's money, mostly. Money did not count. Freed's life had been destitute and lonely before Laxus. He wanted to thank him in the only way he knew how.
He just feared it was too soon. He felt this proved it. He was getting his hopes up, and obviously Laxus was more than happy dating and living together.
Besides, it had not even been a year. It was the beginning of June. They had hooked up on the 30th of August.
They had time.
After dinner, they headed home. Laxus offered to cook while Freed showered. As he set a pot to boil water for pasta, he heard the shower streaming and humming from the bathroom.
Laxus chuckled to himself. Freed rarely sang, but he loved to hum. He was apparently a musical genius, although his parents did not urge him to continue, guiding him instead into a life of business and the road to becoming a CEO.
Laxus wondered if things had been different. What if Freed had become a musician? Maybe he could play piano in a club, and Laxus could be the bodyguard. It was a silly imagination, but he liked Freed's music.
Laxus turned down the stove and crept to the bathroom, silently stripping out of his clothes. Freed was oblivious, lost in the heat of the water and Music of the Night. Suddenly, he began to sing aloud.
Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar,
And you'll live as you've never lived before.
Laxus suddenly slipped into the shower, startling Freed. Before he could cry out, Laxus placed his finger to Freed's lips and smirked. Then, as he rarely did, he serenaded Freed.
His deep voice was not at all suited for the Phantom, it was in the wrong key, but hearing Laxus sing melted Freed. That sensually low voice tingled every part of his body … especially as Laxus seduced him in the shower.
"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…" He ran his hands up and down Freed's soapy body, gliding over his smooth skin and devouring him with his eyes. "Hear it, feel it…" He reached down and stroked Freed's already hardening arousal. Laxus smirked to see the embarrassed flush and feel the quick response to his touch. "…secretly possess you."
He thrust Freed against the tile wall, but as he ground their hips together, he kept on singing, nearly snarling at times.
"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight." He paused and looked down with eyes filled with lust and adoration. Softly, barely a whisper, he sang, "The darkness of the music of the night."
Freed gulped. To be seduced like this to his favorite song of his favorite musical … he used to have wet dreams like this. Now it was a reality.
"I can't remember the rest," Laxus admitted. "So I'll kiss you … fuck you … and listen to a different music of the night."
Freed shuddered at the promise of pleasure. As Laxus knelt and gave a playful lick to his arousal, Freed knew who was the true Phantom here. He was just as helpless and seduced by his charm and raw power as poor Christine had been to the singing masked man.
Electric blue eyes turned up to him, and Laxus commanded in a whisper, "Sing, my Angel of Music!" He thrust all of Freed's cock into his mouth in one gulp.
The voice that cried out of that throat was no opera, but it was music to Laxus' ears.
Next Chapter: A New Storm Rolls In
A/N: I do not own the music to "The Phantom of the Opera," nor do I make money from this fanfic. (Just covering my legal ass.)
"You'll be going to car shows and eating Jack-in-the-Box." - My first date with my husband was a car show and dinner at Jack-in-the-Box.
I love Phantom of the Opera. I've seen it live three times, once at the Ahmanson Theater in Hollywood (my brother-in-law's best friend was on keyboard in the pit and got us free tickets), my husband took me for my birthday in 2008, and I watched the 25th anniversary live broadcast from the Royal Albert Hall, which luckily happened on our wedding anniversary, so it was a treat to us both.
Once my dad won tickets to box seats. I personally didn't like it. You're way off to the side which makes for weird acoustics (musician that I am) although you can see the stage well since you're right up front, and it was nice having the lounge during intermission rather than a long wait for the restroom and shoving your way through the crowds. I don't know if all box seats have lounges, but Magnolia Opera House does.
I said in the first chapter, this modern AU is set in America to make it easier for me. Mard Geer is a Senator. In U.S. politics, Congress is made of the upper chamber Senate and lower chamber House of Representatives. Each of the 50 states has two Senators. In contrast, Representatives are elected balanced proportionally by population. Thus over-populated California has 53 Representatives, but barren Alaska has only one. Senators represent the state as a whole, while Representatives carry the "sentiment of the people." So there are 100 senators in the Senate, and 435 elected officials in the House of Representatives. The Senate serves longer terms (6 years instead of 2) and has powers the House does not, like agreeing to treaties, confirming federal judges, and trial of any federal official who has been impeached (like the President). That's your American-government-in-a-nutshell lesson for the day, and that makes Mard Geer one of the most politically powerful people in the country.
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