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Danse Macabre

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“So it has come to this, Belmont. Lodging in a brothel.”

Trevor exhaled, long and exasperated, determined to ignore Alucard’s disdainful golden gaze.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. At the very least, there should be real beds.”

He made a sweeping gesture toward the squat, shabby building, a red lantern flickering outside. In times like these, its blood-glow looked ominous, a warning light more than a promise of women and wine.

“Ah, yes,” Alucard said drily, adjusting the collar of his long black coat. “Nothing better than falling asleep to the sound of God’s men, indulging their pious fantasies of the Holy Ghost. All night long. Loudly, and rhythmically.”

Sypha groaned. Trevor pointed an accusing finger at Alucard. “That’s crude, vampire.”

“Crude, says the man who lodged us in a fucking whorehouse.”

“It makes me uncomfortable,” Sypha said, before Trevor could snap back. She sank into her voluminous Speaker robes, as if she hoped they would absorb her.

“Thanks to Belmont here, we don’t really have a choice. It’s this or the wagon.” Alucard’s bearing was as devoid of lustful interest as the night-hordes were of souls. He didn’t show a trace of even guilt-ridden excitement. Trevor remembered kneeing Alucard in the crotch of his leather pants, back when they introduced themselves to one another in that charming crypt, and the look of cool indifference with which Alucard had responded. Perhaps he really was missing something down there, because Trevor could not conceive of sleeping in a coffin for a year and waking up anything but horny.

Shoulders hiked up around her ears, Sypha reluctantly agreed with Alucard – the promise of a real bed and the almost sinful temptation of an actual bath won out. They had come to this town with the express purpose of putting walls between themselves and nature for one night, and she was evidently loath to give that up.

You’d think, as a nomad, that she’d be fond of the outdoors, but maybe that was Trevor’s many misconceptions talking.

“It’s true I wouldn’t have had to deal with this if someone hadn’t gotten us kicked out of the actual inn,” Sypha grumbled, right on cue, her tone a swift kick aimed between Trevor’s shoulder-blades.

“Yes, Belmont; it’s almost impressive, the void where your sense of decorum should be,” said Alucard, sweet as a serrated knife. “It’s like watching a gruesome accident – messy and tragic, yet hard to look away.”

“Stuff it, vampire.”

“He’s not wrong, though,” Sypha said caustically. Encouraging Alucard was a sure-fire sign that she was feeling petty, and that it was Trevor’s fault. He sighed, holding up his hands in defeat.

“Right, right. No more uncalled-for yet accurate comments about anyone’s parentage.”

As they entered the building, Sypha put up her hood and did her best to become one with her clothing, the baggy fabric deflecting awareness of her sex. Guilt flickered through Trevor – he couldn’t blame her for feeling unsettled in a place where people with bodies like hers were sold like meat at the market. Hopefully, they could retire quickly, and the bed and bath would make up for it.

The Madame who greeted them, a heavyset woman whose face was painted theatrically white, eyed Sypha’s robed figure with suspicion.

“Please don’t mind our friend. His interesting fashion sense is a religious thing. Comes with the vow of silence and the refusal to eat anything but goat cheese and beans,” Trevor murmured to the Madame, conspiratorially, from behind his hand. He was fully aware of Sypha’s eyes furiously drilling holes into his back, but he thought it was a good save. She might spear his arse on an icicle later, but he preferred to deal with such problems as they arose.

“I see,” the Madame said – at least half convinced. “So … how may I help you gentlemen?”

The negotiations began. The Madame did her best to convince them into spending the night with some of her girls, but Alucard’s soft-spoken iciness soon had her sullenly agreeing to rent them the rooms alone – at an astronomically improbable rate. “To make up for lost revenue,” she said, with an ingratiating smile that made Trevor want to scoff and call bullshit, but his terror of Sypha’s fire-wielding palms and inquiries along the lines of how would you know what a whore costs, Belmont? gave him incentive to keep his mouth shut. Still, this blatant fleecing hurt – yes, they were paying with Alucard’s money and Trevor’s pockets gaped as empty as ever, but it was the principle of the thing.

They were given only two rooms. The woman’s painted eyebrows rose, and she insisted, ringed hands splayed out plaintively, that she had no more to spare.

“I will be rooming alone,” Sypha hissed under her breath, in a tone that brooked no argument, once the garbage deal was done and paid for.

As they moved toward the sounds of laughter and revelry from the bar, Alucard rested his eyes on Trevor.

“Hope you like sleeping on the floor, Belmont.”

“Fuck you, devilspawn,” said Trevor, but Alucard, mane of hair swishing nonchalantly behind him, had already turned away.

 


 

Dinner was awkward, eaten at a table surrounded by bawdy merrymaking – women with plunging necklines plying their trade amongst red-faced, laughing men. Some were so intoxicated that ale sloshed onto the fronts of their tunics when they attempted to drink; Trevor gazed at the stains wistfully, mourning the waste.

Sypha’s tense shoulders and the hood still covering her face made Trevor feel bad all over again, for subjecting her to this, and he told her as much.

“I’m not naïve about these things, but I find it tasteless and sad,” she replied, sipping her thin soup. Her eyes softened a bit, from his admission, but it didn’t stop her from brandishing her finger at the two of them and adding, “In the morning, I better not find out either of you paid some poor woman to sleep with you!”

“I solemnly swear,” said Trevor, choosing to ignore the implication that it would be unfortunate indeed for a woman to sleep with him. Alucard steepled his fingers, saying nothing. He didn’t have to, as obvious as his disinterest was.

Sypha retired soon afterward, wishing the two of them a good night before disappearing upstairs. Trevor and Alucard remained at the table, companionably ignoring one another.

Despite himself, Trevor’s eyes wandered the room. He would be lying if he claimed to feel nothing at the sight of swelling bosoms and exposed, slender necks – he’d spent a lot of time on the road, wretched and alone, and the warmth of another person’s body held an undeniable allure. He meant what he’d said to Sypha, though; some vestige of proper upbringing in him said he should not have to resort to whoring on top of all the drinking he’d done in his days.

Besides, where would he even go, when the surly son of his mortal enemy had already claimed the bed?

There were some young men in the hall as well – ostensibly servers, but with a prettiness to them that seemed to say that for the right price, they could be more. Trevor glanced at Alucard, a new possibility dawning – perhaps that was the direction in which his tastes strayed?

“There’s boys, too, eh?” Trevor said, and inclined his head at a patron who was speaking to one of the young men, standing just a bit too close.

Alucard’s gaze flicked to the two men, then back to Trevor. There were universes of boredom in his eyes. “Your powers of perception are staggering.”

Trevor crossed his arms, sulking. All right, fine. The dhampir probably got off on impaling people with levitating swords, if anything at all.

His treacherous mind crept to the idea of Alucard in bed. It seemed fucking ludicrous, with that stick-in-the-arse stiffness he carried himself with, to imagine him relaxing enough to let somebody near his dick. Tragic, when he was almost as pretty as he was insufferable – the golden hair; the delicately chiselled face; the long, lean body. He sat across from Trevor with eerie marble stillness – quiet vigilance that Trevor knew took only an instant to transform into fluid fighting movements, sleek and ferocious as a cat.

He shifted his weight on the uncomfortable wooden bench and stared at the grain on the table.

His balls were itching. His hair was greasy and lank. The grime under his fingernails may have become a breeding ground for new forms of sentient life. These sobering reminders of his own miserable state soon had any inappropriate stirring straightening itself back out.

A miasma of alcohol and sweat and hearty brown food lay over the room. It was by no means a pleasant smell, but it awakened in Trevor an old longing – for ale or wine or spirits, and that familiar buzz that wrapped around his mind like a woollen cloak, making his fingers feel distant and smoothing out the confusing, jagged edges of the world.

“I’d kill for a pint.”

Alucard glanced at him, and he realised that he’d said the words out loud.

“You’re going to fight the creatures of the night with a wicked hangover? You think highly of your abilities, Belmont.”

“Well, they were enough to handle you, so either I’m a fucking genius or you’re a self-aggrandising piece of shit.”

Alucard chuckled, low and raspy, lips parting enough to show a glimpse of his fangs. Trevor’s eyebrows arched in pleased surprise, the corner of his own lips quirking. He was never quite certain if what he said would make Alucard glower or laugh, but laughter was scarce these days, and he found that he enjoyed hearing it – even if it was a vampire’s.

An odd sense of camaraderie, and something like fondness, settled in the air. Doubtless, Alucard would ruin it with one of his inevitable barbs, but this sense of connection … was rather nice. Murdering swarms of creatures risen from the depths of hell alongside somebody had its way of making them grow on you, cock-boil unbearable as they may be.

On the other side of a room, glass shattered, women shrieked, and a man bellowed. Trevor turned to look, just in time to see the first punch being thrown. As the whole energy of the room shifted toward the fight, flocking to the commotion like crows to carrion, Alucard exhaled and stood up.

“Your people have awoken, so that’s my cue to leave.”

“Now, what in God’s bloody name is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going to ask them to draw a bath,” Alucard said, and sauntered out of the hall – tall and elegant and indisputably the fucking worst.

 


 

Trevor saw no reason to stay in a bar full of brawling people, haunted by the overwhelming urge to drink. It didn’t take him long to follow in Alucard’s footsteps, go back into the reception hall, and ask for a bath of his own.

Once he was alone with the tub and the dim candles, he stripped out of his dirty clothes. As he laid his back and shoulders bare, he shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or from the unfamiliar vulnerability of nakedness.

When was the last time he’d had a bath?

He decided not to think about that, or about the layer of filth that floated to the surface of the water as he lowered himself into the tub. He scrubbed himself with rough soap until his skin felt new and raw, and soaked until the water turned tepid.

Was Sypha asleep already, up in her room? Out on the road, when her watches were over, she would curl up with her pack beneath her head and immediately fall asleep. It had to be Speaker magic, and Trevor hoped it was the kind that could be taught – he always hovered at the edge of wakefulness, and if he did sleep, he did so fitfully.

Alucard was almost certainly still awake. Come to think of it, Trevor had never seen him sleep. He might lie down to rest for a while, but his eyes would gleam in the darkness, reflective like an animal’s. He would sit at the back of the wagon and look out at the nocturnal landscape, immersed in brooding thoughts. He probably figured it made him look profound.

Sleep on the floor, my arse. Trevor would stake the bastard for a spot in a feather bed.

That cursed image from before – of Alucard in bed, and not sleeping – floated back into his head. For a moment, he was gripped by an impulse to drown himself in the bathwater. Without Alucard’s magnificently rude presence around, Trevor’s mind seemed intent on recalling, instead, the delicate curve of his pale lips and the muscular contours of his chest.

Trevor had never freely indulged his desire for men; barring an incident or two, he had chosen to bury it beneath what most would consider more natural inclinations. But sleeping in shifts around a campfire, being close to one another night and day, made it hard not to look at Alucard’s stupid pretty face and wonder.

If he weren’t half vampire. If his personality were even the slightest bit redeemable. If they weren’t all facing unspeakable danger.

Then what?

Trevor closed his eyes, sinking a little deeper into the now-cool bathwater.

That mouth. Those legs.

He clenched his fist under the surface, the water making the movement clumsy and slow.

Time to get out of here.

 


 

Still damp from the bath, skin crawling with the discomfort of putting his clean body back in dirty clothes, Trevor made his way to the room he shared with Alucard.

At first glance, he thought it was empty. He looked around at the great canopy bed, the wooden chest in the corner, the table with its porcelain jug and chamber pot. It took him a moment to spot Alucard, framed by the bed’s posts like the subject of a pretentious painting. He had that way of being perfectly still, not giving away his presence with human trifles like breathing or body heat.

Unsurprisingly, the dhampir was standing by the window, elbows resting on the sill, staring out at the night as if he could defeat the ghouls by unsettling them with his gaze. He was not wearing a shirt, golden hair spilling down his bare back. His trousers clung to his narrow hips. Just like the day they met. God willing, Alucard wouldn’t be swinging a sword at Trevor this time around.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Trevor said, shutting the door behind him. He was enveloped by the smell of unfamiliarity and dust.

“You really think you’re funny.” Alucard didn’t bother raising his voice or turning around, as if he simply expected Trevor to hear every word. “These are the mysteries science will never unravel.”

“Yes, that and your ungodly aversion to wearing shirts.”

Alucard did turn, then. Trevor’s eyes were immediately drawn to the thick scar on his chest, arcing from left shoulder to right hipbone. That, and the sulky furrow between his eyebrows, were the only details differentiating him from a marble statue, sculpted to perfection.

“It’s being laundered. I understand you’re unfamiliar with the concept.”

“You going to do this all night, then?” When Alucard didn’t reply, Trevor added, “Anyhow, since you’re a sleepless demon and I need to pass out desperately, I’ll be taking the bed.”

The linens on the bed looked clean and soft. It would be good to sleep without his sweat-stained clothes chafing against his skin. He began to undress, boots and belt and cape ending up in unceremonious piles around the wooden chest. Reaching behind his head, he grabbed his tunic at the nape and yanked it off, crumpled it into a ball and deposited it with the rest.

Chest now bare (and admittedly, a little chilly), Trevor stretched his back and shoulders, wincing as the bones cracked, yawning with the tiredness that was gaining on him quick …

… and he relaxed, and turned, and caught Alucard watching him.

Something in the dhampir’s eyes sent a shiver down Trevor’s spine. It was not entirely unpleasant.

He couldn’t help himself. He put his hands on his hips, cocked an eyebrow.

“Like what you see?”

He’d infused his voice with sarcasm, but part of him was curious. He’d gotten lean from eating sparsely, scrounging for scraps between towns; it had every muscle standing in sharp relief, wiry and strong. His body was broader and sturdier than Alucard’s ridiculously svelte one, dusted with dark hair on the arms and chest; perhaps that would be of scientific interest to Alucard, who was sculpture-smooth, and had probably never sprouted a pubic hair in his life.

I complement him well, Trevor’s brain supplied, to his immediate regret.

Alucard looked from Trevor’s torso to his eyes. How much of the apathy in his expression was real, and how much a carefully perfected schooling of features?

“Just pondering how someone in an adult body can have the mind of a petulant toddler.”

“Are you physically capable of speaking to me without being a dickweed, or will trying light you on fire?”

“I’m not sure.” And that was a grin; he was trying to suppress it, but Trevor could tell.

“Right. Well, maybe you should find out, and spare me the trouble of finding matches.” Trevor got into the bed, sinking down into it so abruptly that for a second, he had the same sensation of falling he sometimes got at the edge of sleep. The mattress was so soft he was afraid it might swallow him, and it sent his mind back to a now-distant childhood of noble comforts.

Had there really been a time when he lived like this? These days, more often than not, the last son of the great house of Belmont retired to a bed of chickenshit and hay.

He bounced a little, to let his body settle. Alucard rolled his eyes.

“Beats a coffin,” Trevor said, his voice a shrug, and propped his arms behind his head.

There came that dry little laugh again. Fine, so he was rather charming, for a fanged half-human beast.

“Since I’m a generous person, unlike you, you can have six inches on that side.” Trevor gestured languidly, then closed his eyes. The softness of the bed almost made him seasick; the surface seemed to swim beneath him.

The bed sagged to one side as Alucard’s weight lowered onto it. Trevor remained in the same position, eyes closed, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. This close to one another – just an arm’s-length between their bodies – Alucard no longer seemed unmoving and unbreathing. The faint sound as he exhaled, the tiny movements as he shifted into a more comfortable position … Trevor’s skin prickled with heat, tension tightening the muscles in his stomach.

They were still there, in his mind – the flickering images of Alucard’s long limbs, of his perfect lips parted. Trevor had the strangest feeling that his thoughts were seeping out, weighing down the air with his unspoken fantasies.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened his eyelids ever so slightly, just for a peek …

… and amber eyes were looking back at him.

The sight left Trevor a little breathless. Alucard was lying on his side, head propped in his hand, the mattress supporting his hips in a way that emphasised the sleek line of his torso. Locks of hair fell over his chest, gold against the alabaster of his skin. Newly washed, his hair looked silkier than it had on the road, and as if it would be pleasing to the touch. Trevor’s heart stuttered against his ribs. Staring at Alucard was like facing down his own desire. Part of him wished he could strike it down with his whip, watch it evaporate into the cool night air like a creature from the depths, but the other part …

I want the bloody vampire. Damn it all.

“What’re you looking at?” Trevor croaked.

Alucard arched an eyebrow. “Your face. Evidently.”

“Yeah?”

“You repulse me.”

“Well, ’s mutual.” Lying through his teeth.

“But when you’re not talking, or moving, or falling all over yourself like a cretin, I … find I mind less.”

Alucard shifted his weight, brushing hair out of his face and letting his arm settle along his side. His wrist rested on his hip, hand dangling tantalisingly near his crotch. It was positively coquettish.

Trevor could swear he’d meant to respond, but his head refused to form thoughts that could be shaped into words, so all that came out was a strange rumbling from deep in his chest.

It was as if that sound – wordless, primal – made all the tension drifting in the air freeze in place and solidify. In a heartbeat, it had surrounded them: thick, palpable, his lips buzzing with it, his limbs heavy.

Need to touch you – if I don’t touch you I might die.

Impulse seized him. Trevor reached out and grabbed the dhampir’s shoulder. His skin was chilly and smooth. Alucard said nothing – didn’t push him away, didn’t object.

Trevor assessed him for a moment, caught the defiant I-dare-you look in his eye—

—and pulled him close, and kissed him.

After all, Trevor Belmont’s one supreme talent was hurling himself foolishly into the unknown.

And oh—Alucard threw himself into the kiss as if he’d been waiting for it, anticipating it, bursting with need. A flame sprang up in Trevor’s gut as Alucard’s lips opened beneath his, and Alucard’s arms wrapped around him, pressed him closer than he’d ever thought they’d be.

Alucard barely smelled of anything. Even with their faces pressed up together, Trevor caught the clean scent of soap, but not the underlying smell of skin and sweat expected from any human. The absence was uncanny, but the urgency in Alucard’s hands and mouth was reassuringly familiar – it said, loud and clear, I want you, I want you, I want you.

Trevor’s hand slid from Alucard’s shoulder into his hair, cupping the back of his head. The locks tangling between his fingers were silken, as soft as they looked. Alucard’s hands, long and cold, spread across Trevor’s back, making him flinch for just a moment until they began to warm to the temperature of his skin. Their hips slotted together, and Alucard ground against him, making both of them gasp.

As Trevor let his tongue explore Alucard’s mouth, the tip brushed the curved edge of a fang. A shudder gripped him, left his teeth jangling in his skull; he swore he felt Alucard smirk before he sucked at Trevor’s bottom lip, and that had him trembling all over again, in a different way this time.

They twisted until Alucard ended up on top of Trevor, still kissing breathlessly – breaking away would mean acknowledging this, and perhaps neither of them was quite ready for that. Alucard’s slim hips were cradled between Trevor’s thighs, and he ground down again, decisive and firm. Trevor made a pleased sound; the friction between the clothed halves of their bodies felt good, almost as good as his hands sliding over Alucard’s bare skin.

His skin was smooth and pale and flawless. Even his scar, in all its gruesomeness, only made him more beautiful, more immediate – he was real, no longer distant and otherworldly but here and breathing and moaning and wanting.

Wanting me.

Trevor opened his mouth wider as they kissed, now, sloppy and unashamed. He shivered every time his tongue touched Alucard’s eyeteeth, sharp and lethal; it had his belly clenching tight with fear-tinged recklessness.

They both went in a little too hard at the same moment, the kiss colliding, clumsy, and—

“Shit—”

Sharp sting of pain; Trevor hissed, and the taste of iron welled in his mouth.

Alucard’s body shuddered against him, and then he was pulling away, sitting up between Trevor’s thighs. One white hand was pressed to his mouth, his brow furrowed deep with consternation.

Blinking, still dazed, Trevor wrapped his fingers around Alucard’s wrist. Without Alucard pressed close to him, the cold air settled against the bare skin of his chest.

“What is it?”

“I …” Alucard’s lips trembled. His eyelids fell shut for a moment; he inhaled deeply before opening them again, avoiding Trevor’s gaze. “It’s your—”

Alucard released his breath in a long shuddering exhale, falling forward and burying his face against Trevor’s neck. His hand stroked down Trevor’s side, and he nuzzled a little closer, moaning.

Trevor squirmed a bit, aware of the ghost of those fangs so close to his jugular. Alucard’s breath was warm on his neck. The tip of his tongue snaked out, traced a thin line over Trevor’s skin; Trevor swiped his own tongue over the tiny cut in his lip, tasting the metallic flavour that had driven Alucard over an edge neither of them had expected.

“You’re fucking bloodthirsty.” Trevor gripped Alucard’s arms, hard, but to little avail. The dhampir had him pinned, and he was unarmed, stupid, stupid – if Alucard wanted to bury his fangs in Trevor’s throat, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“I can control it.” His voice was unsteady, though – too unsteady for Trevor’s liking – and his body was racked by tiny tremors. “I don’t need blood to survive.”

“But you want it,” Trevor whispered, and the low moan emanating from Alucard, muffled in Trevor’s neck, was answer enough.

“I didn’t think—I didn’t know I would—”

“Didn’t think snogging a hunter would make you want to suck his body dry? Shit happens, mate.”

“It’s not like I planned for this.”

“I know,” Trevor sighed. Alucard would never willingly put himself in a position where he was shaking, keening, balancing precariously at the limits of his self-control – all because of Trevor.

I’m a Belmont. I come from a long, noble line that rose to prominence by hunting and killing his kind.

And yet. Having the dhampir so vulnerable – so ravenous over him – was awakening something inside Trevor he hadn’t even known was there.

He released one of Alucard’s arms, using the now-free hand to firmly grip Alucard’s hair, yanking his head back from his own tender throat. Alucard hissed, the sound high-pitched and inhuman.

“How well can you control it?” Trevor’s voice was pitched low, almost growling. “If you taste blood, will you want to kill?”

“I … no. Because I’m half … it’s not as potent in me … the urge.”

Trevor felt another urge – a very potent one – digging into his hip. He didn’t want that compromised because Alucard was craving a midnight snack.

His head spun with frenzy and lust. This night was turning into plunge after mad plunge. Why not? Everything else is already upside-down.

“If you let me hold a blade to your throat,” he rasped, “I’ll give you a sip. How’s that for a deal?”

Alucard’s eyes widened. Trevor hadn’t seen him wear an expression of such genuine surprise since the catacombs of Gresit, when he’d realised the wicked point of Trevor’s weapon was slowly sinking through his skin. “You would never.”

“I would. I’m out of my fucking mind, remember? Not the neck, though. I don’t want Sypha to see …”

Alucard’s face only grew more disbelieving. “You … you’re serious. A Belmont.”

He shrugged as best he could, lying on his back. “The other Belmonts are all dead, so there’s nobody to judge me.”

Bringing his massacred family into the bedroom might not have been the smoothest thing he’d ever done, but since his partner in bed was the son of a mass-murdering vampire hell-bent on the eradication of humanity, it went over all right. Alucard’s expression of distress melted, for a moment, into amusement.

“Right. If you insist …”

He rested his hand on Trevor’s leg, stroking up the inside of his thigh. Trevor shivered, arched into the touch; Alucard squeezed the flesh, slow, savouring.

“What about here?”

His voice was low and liquid, and melted Trevor on the spot. “Fuck. Yes.”

“You really do have a deathwish,” Alucard murmured, soft and speculative.

“Could be that. Or maybe I just like a bit of pain.”

A whispered curse fell from Alucard’s lips. “You’re trying to do me in.”

“You’re trying to feed off me. It’s only fair.”

Without replying, Alucard drew back from Trevor, sitting back on his heels. Letting him up to get his weapon, a sliver of metal as insurance for his life – promise of a deadlock, that none of them could kill the other without taking himself down. Killing Alucard was the last thing on Trevor’s mind, but he had some pride left; he couldn’t let a vampire drink from him in a state of total helplessness.

Trevor slid out of bed; standing up made him uncomfortably aware of how hard he was, every sensation in his body pooling toward that warm heaviness in his groin. He went over to the wooden chest and rifled through the garments tossed there until he retrieved one of his short blades, the same kind he’d held to Alucard’s gut in Gresit.

“Just a formality,” he muttered, loud enough for Alucard to hear.

He turned, and the sight of Alucard sitting on that wide, plush bed, hair loose and tangled, eyes sultry and blown, nearly had him tripping over his own lust and crashing face-first into the floor.

I want him to fuck me, Trevor’s dick informed Trevor’s mind, and once the thought was born there was no way to banish it back into the realm it had come from. All at once, he needed it badly – needed Adrian Tepes inside him the way he needed air to breathe.

He walked back to the bed, and Alucard rose up on his knees, taking Trevor by the back of the neck and pulling him in for another long kiss. His tongue flickered over the spot where the little cut was stitching itself back together. Alucard held him there for a long time, savouring those few drops of blood left in Trevor’s mouth – perhaps even savouring the way it felt to kiss him, intimate and warm.

Alucard broke away, face still close, eyes dark and glowing with anticipation of what they were about to do. Self-consciousness prickled at Trevor’s skin.

“Maybe we should draw the curtains,” he said, eyeing the heavy drapes surrounding the bed.

Amusement in the curve of Alucard’s mouth. “You are shy, then?”

“Come on. Just in case someone comes in to inform us there’s a fire, or the demons of the night are loose in the city …”

“Right. Yes, we can draw the curtains. No one will see you but me.”

Alucard sounded a tad too pleased with that arrangement. Trevor got back into bed, and they pulled the curtains shut around them – leaving little cracks for lantern-light, which trickled in and set their tiny world aglow.

Trevor lay down on his back, gripping the blade so tight his knuckles whitened. Alucard loomed over him, the shadows on his face darker and more smudged in the dim light.

He set to work peeling off Trevor’s trousers and smallclothes, inching them down his legs. Trevor’s cock sprang free, curving heavy against his belly. Interest gleamed in Alucard’s eyes; he reached out and stroked it gently.

“Ah, shit – don’t tease me, you arse.”

“Mm.” Alucard discarded Trevor’s clothes, then spread Trevor’s legs wide and knelt between them. “No promises.”

His fingers ghosted over that spot at the top of Trevor’s thigh. Trevor’s heartbeat thundered in his head; every point where his pulse throbbed stood out to him, as if the blood were pushing at him from the inside, trying to escape.

Alucard leaned in, and in a burst of sudden nervousness, Trevor blurted, “You know, it’s funny, but somehow I don’t think this is what this bed is for.”

Halfway to pressing his mouth to Trevor’s leg, Alucard paused, glanced up, and smiled tight and promising. “No. But we’ll get to that later.”

Oh, fuck, he was gorgeous.

Alucard lowered his head, kissing the inside of Trevor’s thigh, his lips cold against the tender skin. Trevor’s free hand gripped the sheets, his body twisting; those kisses were going straight to his cock, and he wanted Alucard to move up just a little, to take him in his pretty mouth and—

—and he cried out at the sharp prick of Alucard’s teeth, and before he could decide whether he’d changed his mind about this, the vampire’s fangs pierced his skin.

They sank into him, slow; it stung at first, making him gasp, but the pain quickly faded to a dull throb, and then …

… warmth began to lap over him in waves, starting at the soles of his feet, coursing through him in steady pulses. The waves crested in his head, carrying him away with them, lifting him higher and higher …

It felt good, so good; not base like sex, not like something of the flesh, but somewhere above it, some hitherto unknown heights of bliss. He melted into it, the spot on his thigh where Alucard drank glowing warm, the rest of his body immersed in a sea of pleasant calm.

Alucard’s hands were firm on his hips, anchoring him in place. Still, he strained against that vice-like grip, bucking up closer to the source of that sweet elation, as if he could drive the fangs deeper into him. Alucard’s warm tongue laved at the spot now and then, soft caresses against Trevor’s burning skin.

The hilt of the blade was sweat-slick against his right palm. Caught in pleasure like this, he was painfully aware of what a fool he’d been – he wasn’t sure he could drive the weapon home even if his life did depend on it.

Trevor laced the fingers of his left hand into locks of silken hair, cradling Alucard’s head. He closed his eyes; the swirling patterns on the backs of his lids gathered into crimson circles, growing and drifting past the bounds of his vision in time with his heart.

His pulse was slowing, his limbs sinking into the mattress heavy as lead; through half-open eyes, he saw Alucard’s hair shining halo-gold in the dark. How long had he been drinking? Ten seconds, half an hour – time blurred in the blood-haze covering his mind.

“Right,” he managed to say, his tongue thick and disobedient, everything in his body distant from him except the all-consuming rhythm of his heart. “Think that’s enough.”

Never enough, wailed some deep animal part of him, but the Belmont side triumphed. He put his palm against the crown of Alucard’s head, and although everything screamed for him not to, he began to gently push.

Alucard drew back. As his fangs slid out of the flesh of Trevor’s thigh, Trevor moaned, unable to help himself. An emptiness spread inside him, compounded by the dizziness in his head – but as the haze lifted, he realised that might just be a result of losing blood.

Losing blood to a vampire.

Fucking hell. He’d really done that.

He glanced down at his leg. The light was dim, but he could see two dark puncture wounds marring the skin. There was a dull ache in the spot, but it was fading fast, and it wasn’t bleeding – maybe some of Alucard’s preternatural healing powers spread through his saliva.

Alucard sat up and wiped his mouth, and sweet Jesus, a scarlet smear of Trevor’s blood extended from the corner of his lips, gruesomely cherry-stained. Was it sick of Trevor to want to kiss the colour off them?

“Say ‘thank you’,” Trevor croaked, earning himself a dirty glare.

But Alucard’s hands were trembling. He was still angelically beautiful, but his composure was gone.

Trevor bit his lip, observing him. The pink in Alucard’s cheeks, the flush that had spread to his collarbones, brushing the top of his scar – that was Trevor’s blood gushing through him, animating him, turning him from distant statue into a beautiful young man.

“You look so good,” Trevor said, without thinking – and Alucard did something most unexpected. He blushed.

He could blush now. It was almost … endearing.

“Your blood’s sour with booze,” Alucard mumbled.

“Bullshit. I haven’t had a drink in weeks.”

And Alucard smiled. Just a tiny one, but it was there.

“I hope you’re not done.” Trevor heard himself thinking out loud; the slight blood loss seemed to have punched holes in his already porous filter. “I mean, if the blood’s what does it for you, I’d be very disappointed. ’Cause I’d love to get on to more, ah, traditional pleasures of the flesh.”

Alucard lowered himself down beside Trevor, long lean body deliciously on display. There was a prominent bulge at the front of his trousers. Now, if that wasn’t a sight for sore eyes.

“You’re a stupid lout, Trevor Belmont,” murmured Alucard, but his hand slid down Trevor’s chest, long fingers trailing over the muscles, slow and almost reverent.

“Perhaps. Will you fuck a stupid lout, or is that beneath the great Master Tepes?”

Alucard’s grin was wolfish. “Not at all. I’m still quite hungry.”

“Oh, good.” He shifted his weight, stretching his body out; Alucard’s gaze flickered down it, leaving spots of heat where it lingered. “Seeing you between my legs wasn’t bad. Maybe you could do it again, but suck my cock this time.”

“You’re rather impudent.”

“Stop talking, arsehole. You drank my goddamn blood.”

Alucard’s smile widened, exposing his fangs. “So I recall. All right, then.”

Part of Trevor hadn’t believed Alucard would agree. But the dhampir settled back into the same position as before, and a spiral of excitement uncoiled inside Trevor. The wounds on his leg throbbed in reminiscence, as if his body wanted those fangs back inside it; he bit his lip and shook the feeling off. It was time for this now.

Alucard took Trevor’s cock in his hand, shooting him a heated glance before he lowered his head and began to suck.

The first few strokes were incredible. His mouth was wet, his tongue perfect, and there was something deeply satisfying about having Alucard’s usually sneering lips wrapped around him, hot and tight, making him feel good …

And then there was a scrape, and he swore he felt his cock absorb back into his body, like a sea-creature darting inside its protective shell.

Teeth! Jesus …”

Alucard drew back, and looked up – fuck, he looked amazing like that, glancing up through long eyelashes, framed by Trevor’s thighs.

He was totally unapologetic, though. That was less attractive.

“You’re fuckin’ terrible at this.” Trevor pointed an accusing finger straight at his face.

Alucard sat back, tilting his head to the side – and the bastard smirked, lascivious and fangy. “Noted. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Well, he walked right into that one.

“Fine. I’ll get you wet, then. Before you bite my dick off.”

Alucard’s lips flickered in a smile – something restrained in it, like he wanted to grin wide, but wouldn’t allow himself.

The knife was still in Trevor’s hand. He’d been gripping it for so long he’d nearly forgotten about it. He tucked it underneath the pillow, and when Alucard raised his eyebrows, he shrugged. “Where else am I supposed to put it?”

They switched their positions, Alucard half-lying, half-sitting, propped on his elbows, Trevor flat on his stomach so that he could reach the goods. He nuzzled against Alucard’s cock, feeling heat and hardness through tight fabric. This will be in me soon. He couldn’t wait, and was too aroused to even feel embarrassed about his enthusiasm, though he reined himself in enough to stop himself from rubbing against the mattress, chasing friction.

Alucard brought his hand to Trevor’s chin, the pad of his thumb pressing into Trevor’s lower lip, sliding toward the corner of his mouth and back again. Trevor let his mouth drop open just a tad, stroked Alucard’s thumb with his tongue, then drew back and smirked. The muscles in Alucard’s belly visibly tightened, and he grunted – an inelegant and most satisfying sound.

Trevor undid the laces of Alucard’s trousers, the steadiness of his hands surprising him, and finally, finally pulled them down.

So, he did have hair down there – a darker gold than on his head, but gold nonetheless.

His cock, like everything else about him, was pristine. Trevor wasn’t sure if that healthy shade of pink was natural or a result of his own blood in Alucard’s veins, but the size and shape was all Alucard, and Trevor wanted it bad.

He licked a stripe up the side, then teased the delicate area beneath the head with the tip of his tongue until Alucard was breathing hard, fists clenched in frustration.

“Here.” Trevor took one of Alucard’s hands, placing it at the back of his head. Alucard threaded his fingers through Trevor’s hair, and before long brought his other hand to join the first. He began to gently massage Trevor’s scalp, sending pulses of pleasure through his body. Trevor hummed contentedly and set to his task.

He filled his mouth with dhampir cock, and the dhampir gasped like he’d seen heaven.

Attentive to Alucard’s sighs and moans, Trevor used his hands and tongue to draw sweet shivers out of the dhampir’s body. Alucard’s fingers tightened in Trevor’s hair, gripping so hard his scalp stung with it; the pain sent spears of pleasure through him, making his own cock twitch, and if his mouth had been free, he’d have begged for it harder. In a moment of daring, he pressed the pads of his fingers to the spot just behind Alucard’s balls, and Alucard bucked up off the mattress so hard Trevor nearly choked.

He kept bobbing his head, hand wrapped around the base of Alucard’s cock, when all at once Alucard’s muscles stiffened, and his gasps took on a higher pitch. Trevor immediately slid off, mouth still full of the taste of him, and ignored Alucard’s frustrated groan to look him in the face. “No coming yet. You still have work to do.”

Alucard’s eyes darkened with hunger. “Indeed.”

He climbed on top of Trevor, weight sinking into him, and began to roll his body against him. Their groins came together, the sensation hot and sweet; they shared a soft groan of pleasure.

Alucard’s lips pressed to Trevor’s neck, then his voice was murmuring in Trevor’s ear.

“I want to fuck you till you forget your name, Belmont.”

“Is that so? You seem so fond of saying it, Adrian.”

A sharp gasp, from Alucard; he rutted into Trevor harder.

“Mm …” He hooked one leg over Alucard’s body, to press him closer, and tried his best to turn his voice sultry. “Do you want me to call you Adrian?”

“Fuck. I – yes? No. I don’t know.” Alucard hesitated. “I want you, Belmont. Can’t you just shut up?”

“No, ’s part of my charm,” Trevor began to say, but the words disappeared inside Alucard’s mouth as he kissed Trevor breathless again.

Their bodies still moved in rhythm with each other. Trevor’s insides ached; he wanted this, so fucking badly, his whole body crying out to be pleasured and manhandled, all at once, by the same firm thrusts. The world was ending around them – getting his brains well and soundly fucked out of him would, under the circumstances, be a most forgivable sin.

“Want you inside me,” Trevor said, low in his throat. Alucard’s breathing grew heavier; it made Trevor’s belly coil with delight, and he moaned as Alucard grabbed his arse, squeezing, his strength almost enough to bruise. “Want you to fuck me. If I can see straight, you’re doing a shoddy job.”

“You are so hard to please.” Alucard pressed his lips to the junction of Trevor’s neck and shoulder, searing it with hot kisses. “So needy.”

“You love it.”

“Mmmm …”

“We’re going to need something,” Trevor murmured, leaning his head back to allow Alucard’s mouth better access. “I can’t take you dry.”

“You’re well versed in these matters,” said Alucard, muffled against Trevor’s throat. His hand slid up and down Trevor’s side, fingers pausing to explore the dips between his ribs.

“Please shut up before I change my mind and stake you. This is a brothel, so there should be something in the drawers …”

“I’ll go have a look.”

Alucard slid off Trevor, and Trevor had to fight the urge to pull him back on top of him, as if not touching would break the spell hovering over them, the one letting them do these things with one another. The view of Alucard’s lithe, naked body as he crawled across the mattress and swung his legs out of bed was, however, adequate compensation.

He disappeared onto the other side of the bed’s curtains, and Trevor heard him pad across the floor and rummage around.

“You were right,” he said finally.

“Don’t sound so surprised. Wasn’t born yesterday. I know a thing or two.”

“About whorehouses?” Alucard’s golden head poked back inside their little sanctuary. “I’m sure Sypha would love to know why.”

He tossed a small glass phial at Trevor. The mattress caught it gently, and Trevor picked it up, uncorked it, and drizzled oil onto his fingers. “I’m not going to answer that. Do you want to watch?”

Alucard settled opposite Trevor, cross-legged, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “All right.”

Trevor rubbed his fingertips together, the oil slick between them and rapidly warming from his body heat. His heart fluttered – fluttered, like a nervous maiden’s; it had been some time since he’d last done this, and to have the golden eyes of Dracula’s son on him as he was doing it was … different, to say the least. A little humiliating, perhaps. But his body responded well to shame – cheeks flushing, breath quickening – and he closed his eyes, collecting himself, not wanting Alucard to see just how much he was enjoying this.

Still lying on his back, he traced his entrance with the tip of his index finger, pressing the area gently, biting his lip when his muscles tightened. He slipped the finger inside, moving it in and out slow a few times as he adjusted to it, head falling back, mouth opening slightly. Before he could give in to the temptation to slit his eyes open and peek at Alucard, he added a second finger, winced at the burn as he stretched himself out, letting himself grow accustomed to having something inside him. Only once he had two fingers buried hilt deep in his own body did he allow himself to look.

Alucard’s lips were open enough to show the tips of his fangs, and he watched Trevor intently, unblinking, not missing a single movement. His hand strayed between his legs, stroking his hard cock as if it was something he half remembered he should be doing, but was unable to direct much of his attention at anything but Trevor.

Trevor liked that. Very much.

He pressed his fingers against his own insides, exclaiming ah! when he hit a delicate spot.

“This is what you do for recreation?” Alucard said, but there was a distinct tremor in his voice, and Trevor decided to disregard any sarcasm in those words. The only things in his world were the heat surrounding his fingers, the sweet throb in his body, and Alucard’s eyes, pinned to him with fascination.

“Yeah,” Trevor breathed, “feels good.”

And Alucard groaned. “Should be me.”

“Think you can do better?”

Alucard dropped onto all fours, crawling toward Trevor; the lithe grace of his movements called to mind his wolf form, powerful and feral. He was over Trevor in a heartbeat, kissing the teasing smirk off his lips, his strong hand wrapping around Trevor’s wrist and drawing his fingers out of him.

“Why don’t you find out?”

His deep voice, his intense long-lashed eyes, his hair tickling Trevor’s chest – it melted him to a puddle beneath Alucard’s weight. Trevor’s lip still ached where the cut was healing; Alucard’s kisses were bruising against it. Trevor’s tongue touched the smooth curve of a fang; his blood brightened in his veins, his thigh aching again with the memory of those fangs pushing deep into him. He clutched Alucard close, nails digging into his shoulder blades, encouragement in the way he pressed their bodies together.

Alucard braced his hands against the bed, pushing himself up enough for their chests to separate. Trevor wiped his hand on the sheets and poured a bit more oil on his other hand, heavy and thick on his fingers. He reached out for Alucard’s cock, slicking it up from base to head; his fingers brushed against coarse golden hair, paused to teasingly stroke around the head. That drew a low groan out of Alucard, sending Trevor’s pulse, already hovering so close to the surface of his skin, into an erratic frenzy.

He turned over onto his stomach, pulling his knees in and lifting his arse up – proffering himself for the world to see. Vulnerable like this, his face grew hot, and he pressed it against the cool sheets, his heart pattering against his ribs with furtive delight.

“What are you waiting for? You think you’ve got all night?”

A tiny gasp escaped him as Alucard’s hand landed on his backside, tightening there briefly before it slid to his hip. Alucard’s delicate features belied the power that slept in his body, firm as steel and just as unyielding – the tips of those long fingers dug into Trevor’s flesh, bruising and sweet.

He dragged his cock between Trevor’s cheeks, and Trevor groaned aloud.

“This what you wanted, Belmont?” He sounded out of breath, close to falling apart; it was beyond perfect, to have his composure so utterly gone.

“Yeah,” Trevor growled, against the pillow he was holding, and lifted his pelvis a little higher. He wanted to say something else, something appropriately brazen, but the need burning in his insides wouldn’t let him manage anything but, “Come on.”

Then – finally – he felt Alucard pressing at his entrance. It burned for a moment, until, an inch at a time, he filled him up.

“Yes … shit …”

He felt so much bigger inside. Trevor tightened his body, relishing that feeling of being full; Alucard hissed in response, his fingers gripping Trevor’s thigh.

Trevor drew a deep, shuddering breath.

“Fuck me. Adrian, please.”

Alucard cursed explosively, body trembling against Trevor and inside Trevor, and began to move.

And oh – the sting as he pulled out, the endless satisfaction as he came all the way back inside – it felt so good, so good, and Trevor forgot himself in his flesh.

He’d needed this. He’d needed this more than he could have ever imagined.

He went limp against the sheets, felt a wet spot pooling beneath his half-open mouth, but could not summon the will to care. He wanted to be a mess, reduced to a quivering puddle underneath this beautiful man. Didn’t want to fight anything, endure anything, didn’t want to be determined or strong – just have this done to him, and enjoy every moment.

Alucard’s fingers threaded through his hair. His skin tingled in response to the gentle touch, and he lifted his head, arching back into it. When Alucard tightened his grip, he moaned in a way he hoped was encouraging, hoping the dhampir would understand what he wanted—

—and Alucard grabbed his hair and pulled. Trevor’s scalp burned, his face lifted from the bed, his throat lengthening, exposed.

Oh, yes.

“Fuck, so good, don’t stop …”

And Alucard did not stop. He was relentless, a vampiric strength behind every movement, letting him reach deeper, fuck harder, and Trevor was suddenly very glad his house had not succeeded in wiping these creatures from the earth. Alucard yanked at Trevor’s hair as he thrust into him; those twin bursts of pain, that roughness, felt so fucking good, and he moaned, unashamed of how much he loved it.

“I want to look at you,” Alucard breathed, and Trevor nearly came on the spot – some stupendous combination of self-control and wanting to save the best for last helped him keep it together, but fuck, just barely.

Alucard pulled out, and Trevor nearly cried out at the sudden emptiness. He turned onto his back, his body trembling. He gripped the sheets instinctively, fingers opening and closing around soft fabric, and bit his lip hard as Alucard spread his knees and lined himself up and—

“Oh, fuck, ah—”  

The dhampir pushed all the way back inside him, and this – oh, damn – he’d been right, this was better. This way, he could see the exertion rippling in Alucard’s sculpted belly, the tendons standing out in his neck, his hair falling around him in lovely cascades – and his face, the face of a fanged angel, rapt with the pleasure of fucking another man raw.

Trevor pressed upward until his hips left the mattress. Needing him closer still.

The dreamy haze of the dhampir-bite seemed worlds away, every earthly, grounded, human sensation resonating through his body like earthquake shocks. Alucard driving into him, rough like he wanted it; the sheets silky beneath his back and crumpled in his fists; heart pounding out an unyielding tattoo against the inside of his chest. He could smell his own sweat, and even Alucard no longer seemed quite so immaculate – maybe it was the blood causing it, but a sheen had broken out on his forehead, and a faint, sweet scent of warm skin surrounded him.

Trevor bucked up to meet Alucard, reached for the dhampir’s hips; the response was a deeper thrust that speared straight through him. He moaned, scored his nails down Alucard’s sides in petty retaliation – but if the sound Alucard made was anything to go by, he rather liked it.

“Fuck, Belmont—”

“Yeah—I want—oh, gods, that feels—”

Before long, words left them, leaving only skin and sweat and sighs. Lovers alone in bed, as if this soft curtained space was all there was, the known world ending where their bodies began.

No death. No blood. Just a little bit of pain – enough to be exquisite, and no more.

For one perfect moment, with a dhampir’s cock deep inside him, Trevor Belmont found bliss.

As their bodies came together, Alucard made the most incredible sound – a soft moan, vulnerable, breathy, and full of so much longing that Trevor felt it all the way into his heart, and—

—all at once, a quicker, sweeter heat rose up in him, rushing in from the edges, and he grabbed onto the backs of Alucard’s thighs as it lifted him up and over and oh

—he came hard, swore he went blind for a second, every inch of his skin impossibly bright.

He opened his eyes. His legs were heavy, sinking into the soft bed as if they were about to melt right through it. The mess he’d made was mostly on his own stomach, but some stray drops had spattered Alucard’s skin.

His body was still leaden, but it shuddered – for a moment feather-light – as Alucard pulled out of him. The dhampir began to stroke himself; tension stood out in every vein on his arms and neck, a gorgeous flush dusting his whole upper body. His brow – always so noble, so smug – creased deep as pleasure took him. Contentment buzzing through his limbs, Trevor watched the precise moment Alucard fell over the edge.

“Ah—”

Trevor wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as Alucard’s face contorted and his chest turned an even deeper red, his warm cum landing on Trevor’s lower belly, he couldn’t help but find it endearingly … human.

The moment after was very still. Nothing but their breathing – Trevor’s calming, now; Alucard’s still laboured – and the distant, raucous sounds from the pub below. Alucard sat on his knees, head bowed, hair falling around him like a curtain. Trevor’s skin still felt as if it glowed.

“Adrian,” Trevor said softly, reaching for his wrist. The bones fine and birdlike. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

He rubbed his thumb over Alucard’s pulse-point, felt it pick up speed. Smiling despite himself, he tugged at Alucard’s arm, pulling him down to lie beside him.

As soon as Alucard collapsed next to Trevor, he wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him deep, tongue and all, for a long, long time. Trevor ran his hand from the back of Alucard’s head, down between his shoulder blades, splayed his palm wide to press him close.

They broke apart. In the near-darkness, Alucard’s eyes flickered transparently – a little bit reflective, like a wolf’s. He trailed his long fingers along the scar beneath Trevor’s eye.

“You …” He hesitated, letting his hand drop; Trevor slid his own down Alucard’s side, over his muscular torso, settling on the firm curve of his buttock. “That was …”

“Don’t overexert yourself. You liked it too. Yeah?”

“I … yes, I did. You … have certain talents.”

Trevor scoffed. “Why, thank you so very fucking much.”

He pulled at the thin sheet and began using it to wipe the cum off his stomach.

“That is disgusting,” Alucard said. Trevor rolled his eyes.

“It’s a brothel, Alucard; grow up.”

After they’d cleaned each other up, Alucard fetched one of the heavier blankets folded at the foot of the bed, and they curled up together beneath it. They made a tangle of pale bodies and assorted scars, Alucard’s long hair fanning out behind him and sticking, in places, to his damp skin. The ferocity had gone out of him, and it was suddenly obvious that, despite his preternatural strength, he was the slighter and prettier between them. Trevor was struck by the urge to hold him close, cradle him in the circle of his arms, the way he would a woman.

There was something about this tired, pliant Alucard by which Trevor had to confess himself charmed.

Still in the grip of languor, they shifted around in bed, until Alucard eventually ended up with his back pressed against Trevor’s chest, Trevor’s arm draped over him, bodies slotted together without an inch to spare.

“Belmont?” The hum of Alucard’s voice spread into Trevor’s body.

“Mm?”

“Actually I hadn’t – this was a first. For me.”

Trevor’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. “What, now? Really?

“Yes.”

“You mean, with a man?”

“I mean ever.”

An odd sort of pleasure – part flattery, part embarrassment, part pride – stirred in Trevor’s chest.

“Oh.”

“Mm.”

“Well. Er, you did good.”

“Thank you, O great one.” Ah, and there the familiar derision. Was wondering where that went.

Trevor shifted his weight, kissed the shell of Alucard’s ear. “Vampires don’t fuck? No, wait – your father had to make you somehow. You the result of some bizarre science experiment?”

Alucard rolled his eyes – his back was to Trevor, sure, but it was audible. “Vampires fuck. Maybe you should have read more of the books in your family’s library.”

“Bold of you to assume I can read.”

“Ah. That explains a lot more than I bargained for.”

“Shut up. Regardless, you seemed to know exactly what to do.”

“Unlike you, I have done a lot of reading. And I learn fast.”

“Mm. I’ll say.” His fingertips traced idle circles around Alucard’s nipple. “Maybe it’s animal instincts. Since you can turn into a wolf, you know …”

“Stop talking before you say something you regret.”

“You’re a bastard,” Trevor said amicably. “So, didn’t get out a lot?”

“Not really, no.”

“And then that business of sleeping in the coffin. Can’t imagine that was a good strategy for getting laid.”

A melodramatic sigh. “Never mind. I regret telling you anything.”

“I deflowered Dracula’s son. Incredible.”

“I will kill you, Belmont; do not test me.”

“Well,” Trevor said, pulling Alucard in a bit closer, “at least you got to put that cock to use before we all die horribly. Even you deserve that much.”

Alucard laughed, body shaking against Trevor’s chest. Warmth bloomed in Trevor, more strongly than he’d expected, suffusing him. I like making him laugh.

“Thank you for that,” Alucard said, all sarcasm, but his fingertips wandered affectionately across Trevor’s knuckles. Trevor uncurled his fingers, spreading them apart in invitation. To what he could only describe as his delight, Alucard threaded his own fingers between them, letting Trevor clasp his hand.

“Your hair is in my face,” he murmured, but he couldn’t help but nuzzle into Alucard’s golden mane.

“As I recall, my cock was in your arse, too, and you weren’t complaining.”

“I truly hate you. So much.”

“Mm.” Alucard paused for a moment, anticipation obvious in the air; then he turned in Trevor’s arms, to face him. “I want you to kiss me again.”

“I could do that,” Trevor said, smiling.

As he leaned in to press his lips to Alucard’s, he felt the dhampir smiling too.