[ There's less impatience than might be expected of him. He doesn't try to move his hips or buck into Alucard's hand. Just watches as Sypha finishes with the fastenings of her dress and lets gravity slide it away from her body. Just settles against Alucard as she returns to the bed, hand on his hip again, lips in his hair.
There's no need to be impatient, he can trust them to be kind to him. He's theirs, after all. Their hunter. Their Belmont. Their informant and protector and potatobrand knitter and whatever else he can possibly make himself be for them. And they love him for it. They're reward him for it. He can trust them.
He's still save for the way that his fingers and legs tremble against Alucard with anticipation, Sypha's own legs slipping around his softly. ]
no subject
There's no need to be impatient, he can trust them to be kind to him. He's theirs, after all. Their hunter. Their Belmont. Their informant and protector and potatobrand knitter and whatever else he can possibly make himself be for them. And they love him for it. They're reward him for it. He can trust them.
He's still save for the way that his fingers and legs tremble against Alucard with anticipation, Sypha's own legs slipping around his softly. ]