cryptsleeper | Catch All

[It's concern. It's fear of relapse. It can absolutely be both at once, combined with a weird sense of responsibility and respect for what his father might want out of this situation.

Alucard lets out a long, weary sigh at Hector's response.]

Yes. Ash is the way of these things. I could extend the metaphor about mixing ash into mortar, but that's maudlin even for myself. [He's overdramatic and this isn't about Alucard's sense of drama for once.]

I'm bothering all the same, Hector.

Because you a-

[ He doesn't finish that retort, because Alucard shudders and the movement passes through him, dragging a groan from his lips. He's just barely remaining controlled enough to direct this, to keep up the sappy stuff rather than just falling against the ground and rutting into Alucard until they're both spent. He doubts Alucard would have any complaints if he did. But it's important that this be more than that. Here (even if they're not really here) it needs to be more than that. Special.

With Alucard wrapped around him like this, he doesn't need the hand on his back to steady him so much. He keeps it there in case, but it's stroking rather than holding him.

He lasts longer than he expects, this is so slow, but it still isn't long before his breath grows ragged and his hands trembling, forehead falling against Alucard's chest. Soon. Very soon. ]

[Alucard's all set to snap shut up with all the love in the world, but he's saved the effort thanks to Trevor threatening to be almost as overwhelmed as he is. Thank God for it, because it could potentially ruin the moment and that? That is the last thing Alucard wants. He wants this. All of this joyful perfection, movement carefully considered and even restrained all things considered.

His own hands know exactly how sensitive Trevor's spine is, and so they brush against it sparingly. Just when Trevor's gaze is lifted that tiniest bit further upward. When Alucard feels another lilac shake free of his hair. When he can feel himself rubbing but hard against Trevor's stomach, the threat of finishing before he feels ready ever looming. This is all softness, yes, but the focus shouldn't be on himself and himself alone.

When Trevor's forehead falls against Aucard's chest, the vampire tries to nudge it upward. It fails, since all Alucard can manage is nuzzle the top of his head, but an attempt is made all the same.]

Don't look down there. Please.

[ There's a retort that he starts - it's a little late for Alucard to get shy about Trevor looking at his dick - but it dies before it reaches his lips and leaves as a long, ragged groan. It's easier to be like this. He feels too hot, fevered, and Alucard's chest is so cool against his forehead.

But Alucard said please.

He forces himself to look up, and when he does his eyes are heavy and unfocussed. His face is flushed, moth hanging open just a little. What had come out as ragged breaths before are harder to muffle like this, instead emerging from him as gasps and whines. And then Alucard's fingers brush against his spine and he's gone. His grip on Alucard's him tightens, he thrusts forward as best he can. He strains with the effort of continuing to look up at Alucard rather than curling in against him again.

He manages, still looking up at Alucard even as his hands and thighs start to tremble with exertion. ]

[Alucard's aware of just how hard he grinds down on Trevor when he catches sight of that face. It's because it's too hard too quickly and there's a little bit of reverberation and regret on the dhampir's end but to hell with it. Worth it. Worth it because that face is absolutely beautiful.

He can't know what his own looks like, flushed with color and eyelids that feel so goddamn heavy but refuse to close, lest he lose sight of what's important here. All Alucard can guess is that he must look close to Trevor in this moment and--

--whatever. He's overthinking, and all Alucard wants to do is lean in and kiss Trevor. Keep his mouth over his, swallowing every wonderful noise he can. So he does just that, deep and loving and broking no argument in response. For emphasis Alucard's hands move up and down Trevor's spine - one hand in each direction. It may be enough to distract from how his own back is starting to twitch, unsteady and so very, very close.]

[ Just a little longer. He's exhausted, swiftly becoming oversensitive, but just a little longer. A trembling hand leaves Alucard's hip and travels to his groin instead, and his strokes are no quicker or more forceful than the slow, shallow thrusts that he's been making until now and that he's swiftly becoming incapable of continuing.

It's only when he tries to say something encouraging and wonders why his lips aren't moving right that he realises Alucard's lips are against his. That's good. That's perfect. He deepens the kiss as he strokes, tongue pushing into Alucard's mouth without much fear of fangs. ]

[Alucard's hips roll forward with Trevor's touch and end with a twitch into Trevor's hand.. It's far faster and less controlled than the rest of this has been, but that gives voice to everything the vampire is feeling right now and his current state of mind. He's done, done done in only a few moments more.

There's probably no need for air right now, so Alucard doesn't break the kiss. He only opens his mouth further, aware that here, fangs are probably blunted. He sure doesn't care like he normally does. All he can focus on his his tongue stroking against Trevor's in long, languid strokes - or at least attempts at them. The full of the dhampir is shuddering against Trevor right now, hands no longer moving up and down Trevor's spine, but starting to cling and scratch.

There's only a few more moments of restraint he has in him. Alucard tries to cling to every single one of them.]

Why?

[Blue eyes seek out Adrian's gold ones, lost. Hector has understood why everyone else in his life has 'bothered' with him. Dracula had valued first his innovation, then his brute skill at crafting. Carmilla had taken him for power. Even Rosaly, he could understand. She'd loved him, because bafflingly enough, she'd seen in him something she thought she could redeem.

Hector can't think of a reason that Adrian would care.]

Because it's what my parents would have wanted. Both of them, for their respective reasons and moralities.

[There's not warmth in Alucard's eyes, not exactly, but there's...concern? Worry? Something. Alucard lets out a soft sigh.]

Anything else is something I'd rather not give voice to.

[ It's true. The fangs are only ever as sharp as they need to be here for the dream logic to work. they were sharp before, to make the bite as painless as possible. They are blunter now, because nobody has any desire for the kiss to suddenly become bloody.

The feeling of nails digging into his back helps keep Trevor focussed, in the moment. His strokes increase in speed to match Alucard's, moving in the opposite direction to the movement of Alucard's hips. The hand on Alucard's back moves upwards, across his neck to bury itself in his hair.

And he's beautiful, so beautiful. This is all Trevor's wanted of him, ever since he saw him for the first time. And it's all more perfect than he dared to imagine. ]

[It's Alucard that breaks the kiss, in the end. He has to, because he knows his breath is too short to last much longer, and because he knows Trevor won't want this moment to just be pressed against his lips. This entire set up, it's made for these moments, and the tiny part of Alucard that's hooked into dream logic knows it all too well.

So he withdraws. It's at that same time his speed up, and the full of Alucard feels how tight he is around Trevor now. His legs are practically squeezing for dear life, and then finally everything crescendos.

It starts from the bottom of Alucard's spine, coupled with a soft gasp that quickly grows into a long, loud groan. His back arcs upward, chest pressing against Trevor's and nails scratching down his back. Alucard should, in theory, at least bump against Trevor's antlers as his head tilts back just a little to ride out the wave of pleasure that's now spread up his back and out to his limbs, twitching and mad and completely unable to resist the feeling anymore, but it never happens. He simply stays there for what feels like a wonderful, blessed eternity, lips parted to let everything out, skin running as warm as it can ever run, and eyes half lidded and still trying to focus on Trevor in all of it. His hips drive into Trevor's hands, the movement disjointed and messy and who cares an ounce about it anyway?]

[Hector drops his gaze to the cottage floor and turns away. Honesty. That's something. He isn't sure what he expected. Adrian's admission of his unspoken suspicion lends credence to his answer.

Hector never met Lisa of Lupu, but the memory of Vlad Ţepeş carries weight for him still. The man...the vampire...the traveling scholar...the lord of the castle. He'd borne more affection and pride for Hector than Hector's own father had.]

...fine.

[For his former lord's sake, he won't fight Adrian on this any more.]

I'm going to go wash up before I surrender myself to your custody. [It's harsher than he needs to be, but he wants to at least be allowed a little time alone before he leaves. To walk the island one last time, to catch sight of his early experiments through the trees, to say his farewell to this place knowing he'll never return to it.

He steps toward the door, not looking at Adrian as he moves past him.]

[Someday, Trevor will realize that he talks so that he doesn't have to think. So that when the gravity of this starts to set in, he doesn't have to acknowledge it for what it is. So that he doesn't have to stare back into the gaping, obvious void of his own feelings and give them a friendly nod. Someday, he'll have that wisdom. For now, he's tangled up with Adrian, sated again of the attention he's practically starved for, and making light of it because...

Because it's only ever confusing with Adrian anymore. But poking fun is decidedly uncomplicated.

Times like this, his fingers itch for a cigarette. Sypha made him promise to quit, and it's for the better, he knows. But it's a good excuse to roll away for a few minutes, to get away and collect himself back into some semblance of sane. God knows why he's so restless after such a pleasant night.

And just like that, he resolves to stop caring. Because Adrian's bare thigh is right there for him to grab at, and that's the only bone he wants to chase at the moment. Squeezing gently, working up to his ass and then back down, dragging Adrian's knee over Trevor's own hip for a better reach. Does an impromptu massage make up for ruining the moment with nonsense? Maybe not. But he's practically cackling nevertheless.]

They'll fit better next time. Come to think of it, how do you squeeze yourself into all that leather?

[Not that he's complaining.]

[Alucard vaguely wonders if moments should be added to the long list of prey that the Belmont family has added to their hunt over the years. Surely, surely some of this cock sure, smug, insufferable Belmont-ness must be inherited. It's far easier to ascribe a hereditary nature to certain aspects of Trevor's personality rather than reflect on how all of it is a defense mechanism to exactly how badly the world has treated the Belmonts. To think about that is to stew with anger on Trevor's behalf and want to lash out about it, and...well, that's how one goes Full Dracula.

You never go Full Dracula.

Even with vampire healing, Alucard's exhausted, and inclined to simply sleep at this point. There's a vague notion of needing to make dinner or some sort of food - it is that time of day, he thinks = but that thought is dashed with Trevor's decisions. Alucard is in no place to protest being touched again, dragged over, and having rough hands run over him. Protesting is exhausting, and he resolves to only spend energy on important things.

Which obviously means being a smartass to that question.]

Magic, obviously. Next question?

I...don't expect to leave much before mid-morning. If that effects anything.

[They can't take all the time Hector may need. But Alucard knows that this is still tearing a man from his home. It's cruel, even if it is to try and provide improvement and make it harder to return to old ways. The weight of it hurts his shoulders, just as the weight of parental expectations do.

There's no standing in the way of Hector. Alucard instead goes to rouse Sypha from slumber and to manage all preparations to depart. They'll probably burn the remaining zombie bits, and maybe that will spread to the rest of the island.

Another part of someone's life up in smoke. That's what it always comes back to, isn't it? Fire and destruction and being forced to emerge from it again and again and again.]

[What do you want out of this? It's on his tongue, very nearly brought to fruition, before a sudden spark of annoyance murders the notion in its infancy. Because why should Trevor care? Really? Why should it be anything more than it is? It's not like he wants it to be something more.

Does he?

He's confusing their arrangement again. Granted, he only ever obfuscates this shit in his own mind; God forbid he speak of it and let Adrian in on just how much of a fucking mess he is. Like Adrian isn't intimately aware of this already, but-- He's not serious about this. Neither of them should be. It's damn good and it staves off the loneliness for a minute. That's all it needs to be.

Trevor pulls Adrian close enough to press a kiss to his temple, simple affection that's just plain dichotomous with his current line of thinking, then carefully untangles himself from the dhampir and rolls to the edge of the bed. Jeans on first, but that's all the dressing he bothers with.]

I'm getting some water. Do you want anything?

[The kiss is lovely. Being untangled from Trevor, less so. Alucard ends up lying on his stomach rather than rolling onto his side or back, one hand reaching out to rest next to Trevor. The other grabs one of the pillows and shoves it under his own head. It absolutely needs to be changed - hell, all of the sheets do after that marathon - but for right now, it'll do. At least until Trevor's back and Alucard can demand to use his chest in place of the pillow.]

Just bring the entire pitcher in and two glasses?

[It's a smarter, more elegant solution. But more than that, it's a request that Trevor actually stay. Linger even. It's the kind of request that has to be made like this, because to be bold and ask him to stay could scuttle this...whatever it is.

Alucard lets out a soft sigh at that thought. They need Sypha home already. At the very least, this is something the dhampir can talk to her about, even if it'll end in Sypha rolling her eyes and demanding everyone just sit down and talk already.]

[Hector pauses at the well when he exits the house, scrubbing his face and hands clean with the chilly water. So he hasn't lied about what he's doing. Once he's done, he wanders his old haunts, steering clear of the dock. Adrian and Sypha would likely not be happy to find him where they left his weapon and the discarded zombie pieces.

The little footpaths he'd worn in these woods years ago have since grown over, but he knows his way without them. He's got no particular destination in mind. It just feels...not good, but less tiresome...to be alone with his thoughts.

He's not saying goodbye to a place so much as a time, and he tries to keep it brief. If he's being compelled to sail with Adrian and his speaker, they might as well get started so they can reach a safe stopping place before dark.

...he is still himself, though, so when he finally returns to the ruins of the house, he has a small bundle of fur tucked into the crook of his elbow. A hare, mottled brown with eyes that glow a faint, milky blue. She has no visible pieces missing, but when she peeks out to look around, her neck is able to turn at an unnatural angle. Hector had suspected an aborted attack from a bird of prey, when he'd revived her years ago.]

I'm bringing her. She's gone blind. She won't survive on her own. [He says, maybe unnecessarily defensive as he reemerges. If the fire from the zombies spread, the other creatures can flee; this one would not be so lucky. He thinks he needs to save this one helpless creature.

Adrian said he needed a foundation. Maybe this is the first stone.]

[There's an implication there somewhere. Trevor hadn't been intending to slink off and leave Adrian alone all night, but he needs-- Something. A moment to breathe, possibly a second to think. Adrian drives out all sense and reason, and sometimes Trevor's fine with that, but other times -- like right now -- it's just...

He needs to breathe.]

As you wish, my liege.

[Trevor can't even bring himself to make Adrian suffer for his mood. Not after it's been sweet for what's possibly a record amount of time between them. Let it simmer a bit longer before Trevor turns bastard again.

It doesn't take long to get water, even a pitcher of it, with two glasses, which is what makes Trevor's lengthy disappearance somewhat worrying. The kitchen's a God-send of solitude, but the silence is deafening, and a damned drink might help quiet his mind, but they'd thoroughly polished off the last of the liquor last night. Had he thought to get more-- Had he thought, period--

Damn it all, what would Sypha do if she were home right now? Very probably smack Trevor around a bit and insist that he talk about his feelings, which has never been more out of the question, and the notion just irritates the FUCK out of him. Because all signs point to it, and he's never hated any idea more in his life.

In his life, and he there is no way he's being too dramatic about this.

Trevor's in a considerably darker mood when he returns to Adrian's room. He places a glass on Adrian's bedside table, fills it, then rounds to the other side of the bed. But he's abandoned the pitcher at the bedside table, and he's holding an empty glass in one hand. An empty glass he's still holding when he sprawls across the bedcovers, sighs, and then... Then starts glaring at it the moment he realizes it's still fucking empty.

If that's not the last goddamned straw...]

What are we doing with all this, anyway? [The tone's edging on snappy, but there's an undercurrent -- faint -- of something else. Anger, maybe. Fear?

Not that he'll ever admit.]

[For the first few minutes that Trevor is gone, Alucard lays where he is, doing nothing at all and no particular thought coming into his head. Trevor will be back soon, and that will be permission to doze for several hours at least. There's no work to worry about tomorrow, which is a blessing in and of itself, and Alucard fully expects himself to sleep until noon.

Except soon passes, and Trevor doesn't return. Alucard's eyes move over to the clock that sits on his nightstand, the digital numbers telling him that more time has passed than required for such a simple errand. A soft sigh follows that revelation, and it's one laced with worry.]

Of course.

[Two words, said softly and with far more melancholy in them than even Alucard expected. This, whatever it is, it makes Trevor think too much. Alucard is no expert on the man's brain, but he can't imagine that this absence is due to happy thoughts.

He grabs a hairtie from that same nightstand and pulls all of his hair back (it is, unsurprisingly, an absolute mess and not one that's getting addressed until later). It's the only action he has any energy for, and by the time Trevor does return, Alucard is in the same position as before, the only difference being his hair's attempt at decency.

Keen gold eyes watch as Trevor settles down on the bed. Alucard doesn't reach for the water glass immediately either, not until Trevor's settled and...

...the empty glass is concerning. The question is too, but it needs to be put into the open. Sypha would demand that much of them both.]

I...I suppose that's one way to phrase it, yes. [They're words said with a slightly distant tone of voice. One that's carefully considering what to say.] But it leads to the easy response of I don't know.

[Alucard frowns at a flyaway that dares to enter his field of vision.]

I've assumed it is building to something.

[As Hector walks the island, Alucard goes about rousing Sypha and trying to make sure that they have all they need. It's Sypha that goes and inspects the boat to ensure that it's seaworthy, just as it's Alucard who packs up whatever rations he can find. (So like, two tiny things of dried meat and an additional water skin that gets filled up.)

The two then deal with the zombie parts. They're piled into one space, and Sypha's flame does it's work with the same efficiency as before. The wind is blowing off the island entirely, and so the smoke is sent in that direction. A small mercy. The blaze is left to take care of the bones and render them into ashes, but it is with rocks around it to keep the thing at bay. (In theory.)

Through all the work, they quietly debate what to do next. How to keep an eye on Hector without making him feel a prisoner. Where he might go, and what the two of them can do to help. Trevor's still of his own strong opinions, but they're best left ignored right now.

Sypha's the one who stands when Hector walks in. The bundle has her attention, and when it's revealed to be a hare well. It's still cute, reanimated and all.

Alucard's not going to argue this one.]

She won't be seasick, will she?

[ For a while, it's all too overwhelming to do anything. Slowly, his breathing slows. He gathers Alucard up against his chest, leaning back against cushions that definitely weren't there before. There's still a mess problem, for the moment, but that will resolve itself as soon as they stop thinking about it.

It's a while before he does more than just holding Alucard. Even when he does, it's tiny motions. Fingers massaging small circles into the small of his back. ]

[Alucard's practically drifting when he feels pillows against his back. They're soft, but that's all they register as. Simply present. Soft. Cooling, and he needs that so bad right now. It's so easy to drift, over sensitive and every sensation lingering.

All he manages, in the end, is to rest his head against Trevor. A single arm is slung around the Belmont, fingers curling into other soft things, but even then that's just. It's too much.

So he lays there, eyes closed, ears focused on Trevor's heartbeat. Easier to focus on one thing right now. To move from that to the fingers on his back, their soft circles and...

...no. He still can't manage words. Not for a few minutes more, until he whispers:]

Trevor?

Still here.

[ He says it softly, and it isn't accompanied by a kiss or anything of the sort. Not yet, not until Alucard's settled again. Just those small, soft circles. ]

What do you need?

[Alucard considers the question. Or at least he thinks he does. Thinking is hard, not when everything is still overwhelming and warm and sensitive and everything else. He tries to at least give his stupid Belmont a squeeze. Something.

His arms don’t move. But it gives him an answer to the question.]

Nothing.

[Nothing at all. Alucard’s eyes close fully at that realization.]

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