[Trevor has to stop and think; was what a pun? The realization strikes him a beat or two later than it should, and he smirks with a slow shake of his head.]
Dork.
[It's not an insult if it's the truth. Adrian and Sypha are total nerds; Trevor's told them as much, and their acknowledgement makes it all the more entertaining. But it's endearing. Everything they do is adorable. The more Trevor allows himself to acknowledge that truth, the freer -- and more foolish -- he feels.
They rarely poke fun at his more vulnerable moments. Sypha recognizes them for what they are, and throws the occasional good-natured jibe. Adrian treats them with respect, almost handles them with kid gloves. But neither of them has ever made Trevor regret opening up to them or feeling anything. That's crucial, and it's far more than Trevor's ever gotten from his family.
Adrian and Sypha are starting to feel safe.]
You certainly know your way around a man's wrist. It's practically indecent.
[Trevor's called Alucard worse than dork or nerd anyway. Early on, it was only vampire or Alucard's name with an unwanted gravity that made Alucard chafe. These days, it's easier. Better for certain, and it's lead to a far better relationship than Alucard ever anticipated.
He's still unsure what his father makes of it. Alucard does know that he doesn't care.]
We both know I'm familiar with more than just wrists. Speaking of, give me your other.
[He motions for the other set of cufflinks, knowing the second set will be much easier to deal with than the first.]
How far is this place from the house anyway?
[Trevor's not given him the name of the place, the address, any identifying features besides extremely fancy.]
[Trevor adjusts in the seat to extend his other wrist toward Adrian. Perhaps it's not entirely necessary to rest his other hand on Adrian's knee, but he does it anyway. It's subtle affection, not enough to draw their driver's attention, but moreover, Trevor's testing the waters. For all their past intimacy, this will be the first time they've graced a public venue in any kind of romantic capacity. They should probably understand where their lines are drawn.
Belatedly, it occurs to Trevor that maybe boundaries should have been established before they left the house.]
About ten minutes. It will probably depend on traffic. You'll like it, I think. There's supposedly a live string quartet.
[Trevor casts Adrian a sidelong glance, then focuses his attention on the dhampir's hands instead.]
Anything I should know before we arrive? [Trevor's lowered his voice, gone a bit somber.] Limitations on hand-holding? Dancing? Anything you'd find distasteful in public?
[For all his false bravado, Trevor almost seems nervous tonight.]
[Alucard finishes with the other cufflink with a bit more speed than the first. He understands the particular fastening, after all, so the work is quicker. But with that done, there's no excuse other than desire to keep touching that wrist.
It's the most natural movement in the world when Alucard's fingers move and lace together with Trevors, cooler hand against warm. Of course Alucard's hands are smoother, with none of the callouses of monster work done over the decades. That contrast is one that the dhampir takes joy in, just like the differences in body temperatures, just like how their natural shapes are at odds. (He's too slender, even if it's all muscle. Trevor's build is wider, and if Alucard was being honest, he found it more attractive than his own.)]
Mmm, yes. It already sounds perfect.
[It's an important question. It's one that requires a considered answer, and Alucard is thoughtful before giving a response.]
Nothing too lingering in the kiss department, if only out of fear of the two of us getting carried away. [It's been known to happen.] Beyond that, whatever you feel safe doing.
[If allies see him smooching a dhampir, for example, that might not be ideal.]
[It's a simpler answer than he'd expected, and that's enough to raise both alarm and Trevor's brow. It can't be that easy, can it? Adrian's handing the reins over to Trevor like he's comfortable with however this transpires, and Trevor's not sure why that surprises him, because-- Well, when it comes right down to it, that's been a bulk of their relationship; Trevor setting the pace, and Adrian falling into step beside him, unflinching. As if Adrian's expecting -- and embracing -- every step before Trevor even takes it.
Nothing's ever come easy for Trevor. Nothing this simple has ever been this beautiful.
Momentarily lost for words, Trevor brings Adrian's hand to his lips instead, and presses a lingering kiss to the dhampir's knuckles. He's not sure why it's so sobering to realize that things can pass so easily between them. Maybe it's unknowable, and maybe for once in his damn life, Trevor doesn't have to destroy everything important to find the answer. Maybe it can just... be. Without Trevor complicating everything.]
Free reign? I think you're going to regret that. [Trevor smirks.] I feel like they taught me Viennese waltzes just to prepare me for you.
[There is a small and impossibly warm smile on Alucard's face when Trecor kisses his knuckles just so. He's never articulated what makes him happiest while dating - all the small, little gestures - mostly because calling it dating seemed like a bad idea. Alucard has been matching Trevor's pace to make the man more comfortable with the situation, and that has often meant forgoing some obvious statements.
But this evening is more than likely to lay certain preferences bare, and that's fine by Alucard. Let tonight be the start of a new chapter for all three of them.]
I bet you say that to all your dance partners.
[A laugh is threaded through those worse, and Alucard is all but beaming at Trevor.]
[Trevor smirks, but it seems impolitic to point out that he can't even remember the last time he's danced. He's sure he'll remember the steps, fall into them just like climbing back on a bike, but there's another implication hanging on that admission. It's a lonely implication, and Trevor needn't call that to mind now that -- against all odds -- he's finally found suitable company.
More than suitable. They've been like a delicate dance themselves, and sometimes the missteps are torture, but the rhythm is completely irresistible.
It's another few minutes before the car lumbers to a stop before their destination. The place is ostentatious, to say the least; all sleek modern edges and glowing fountains, and without even looking inside, Trevor would bet money on the presence of Chihuly chandeliers.]
Wait here a moment.
[Trevor nods his thanks to their driver as he climbs out, then circles around to open Adrian's door. And of course, like the proper gentleman Adrian's suddenly discovered in him, he's offered his arm to the dhampir as well.]
[Alucard falls into a content, companionable silence for the rest of the ride, his fingers still laced with Trevor's. It's Trevor's window that he looks out of the entire ride, eyes carefully clocking the streets of Bucharest as they fly past. He knows the city well (he has to, he lives here, he's doing his damn masters here, he does volunteer hours for the arms and armory department in one of the museums), and all of that means that Alucard has a fair idea of at least the district they're heading towards.
The car jostles every so often, causing the beads of Alucard's jacket to brush against Trevor's wrist. There's an apologetic look every time, and Alucard vows that on the way back, he'll just take the middle seat and lean against Trevor the entire time.
There's no protest when they arrive and Alucard is told to wait to get out of the car. He's practically cheering for the statement, as silly and ridiculous as it sounds. This is a date in every way that matters, and he could practically scream from the joy of it all. He's made a promise to himself not to question what has spurred Trevor to acting like this. It's happened. Alucard's happy enough for that.
He takes Trevor's arm when it's offered, aware that the ground beneath their feet are cobblestones placed for elegance and the city's more touristy old world feel. Doesn't matter. It's right for this moment. Right for walking up to the front doors of an all too fancy and expensive restaurant with his boyfriend, the two of them looking far better than they have any right to.
There's a moment when Alucard leans in, right as the doorman opens the door for them both.]
[Trevor's genuinely baffled, but Adrian doesn't have time to answer before Trevor becomes preoccupied with reservation details with the host. It's a brief exchange before they're being shown to their table. The booth they're shown to is well-away from the kitchens and main thoroughfare, perhaps not exactly private but the panels are high enough to give the illusion. The place is dimly-lit as a whole, and the candles at each table lend to the overall ambiance. And as promised, a string quartet occupies one corner of the place, drawing out subdued melodies just loudly enough to not draw attention to themselves.
It's not bad, by Trevor's estimation. Formal to be sure, but not as pretentious as the places he used to visit with his family, which is a definite point in its favor. But the champagne already chilling at their table? That's just a bonus, and the host is kind enough to fill their glasses and leave their menus before shuffling off again.
Trevor stays at Adrian's side, ensures he's settled and comfortable in his booth before slipping into the one across from him.]
Thoughts? It's not what I expected but that's probably a good thing.
[There is indeed no time to answer. The reservation is much more important, and for all the world, Alucard is still stunned that this is happening at all. He'd have been happy enough going to a bar with Trevor, never mind sitting in a place that's probably...well. He's not paying attention to the menu prices until he absolutely must, nor thinking about how expensive bottle service must be. It'll be ridiculous, and that is that.
The only problem in all of this (and there are so few problems) is where Trevor sits. He's across from Alucard, not beside him, and if that's the only complaint of the evening, well. That speaks volumes. This place's intimacy is already far more than Alucard would ever dare to hope for, and it's why his response is absolutely besotted.]
It's perfect.
[And in truth, those are all the words that Alucard has.]
[It's perfect. Trevor's never been the sort to crave approval, but Adrian's clearly overjoyed with this, and that-- It feels good. It feels so much better than fighting ever did; better than bites and barbs and ice and distance. To see Adrian genuinely happy, sincerely grateful for Trevor's effort, is damn-near the best thing Trevor's ever felt.
It is perfect, if only because Adrian is happy with it. This is never something Trevor would do of his own volition, but Adrian's so besotted (and that alone is something of an unbelievable sight) that Trevor's making a mental note to arrange things like this more often.]
I'm glad. I worried you might think it was too... You know. Too much.
[Alucard's reaction to that is to nudge Trevor under the table with a foot. On some other day, it'd be a swifter, more powerful thing of real irritation. Here and now, it's a gentle correction, a way to say bullshit without swearing inside a classy establishment like the one they're in.]
Sometimes over the top is exactly the right amount.
[Alucard's right hand definitely reaches for the champagne class, but his other lays flat on the table, vaguely extended in Trevor's direction.]
And you're reinforced the fact we are absolutely doing this for Sypha when she's back. Her reaction to this kind of place will be priceless.
[Trevor smirks, and his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he unconsciously reaches out to rest his hand over Adrian's. He can't even predict Sypha's reaction to a place like this. She'll either be overjoyed, disgusted, or some strange mix of overjoyed disgust. Either way, it'll be delightful to see.]
I'm sure she looks better in a tuxedo than either of us. Does she even own a dress?
[Trevor resists the urge to point out that Adrian would look decent in an evening gown as well.]
Goodness. [Alucard pauses, taking his sweet time to not only envision the glory of Sypha in a tux, but in how she'd walk in it. What cuts would flatter her best, and how a hat may very well enhance the entire ensemble even more. It's an image that leaves a flush of pink in his cheeks.] I'll be thinking about that for a while yet.
[Which means that if it ever happens, Alucard will be utterly beside himself.]
I genuinely don't know if she owns a dress. I know she has skirts, I've seen her wear them before, but being a Speaker, I don't suspect she has a dress that would....conform to standards here, for a lack of a better phrase.
[He could be wrong. God, Alucard wants to be wrong and stunned into silence. But for now, he can lie back when he's alone and reflect on that mental image.
Until then, there are other important matters. He takes the champagne in hand, and his thumb runs slowly and softly over Trevor's knuckles.]
[Skirts. Adrian had to say that word, and it immediately short-circuits Trevor into a stunned silence. Trevor appreciates skirts. More accurately, he appreciates legs, and most skirts afford a generous view of the legs they contain. Sypha has nice legs; he'd like to see her in a skirt. Adrian also has nice legs...
Being in whatever this is with both of them has manufactured some inordinately strange trains of thought for Trevor. Clothing, for example. The notion of anything even vaguely attractive becomes a mental struggle between whether Sypha or Adrian would look better in it. They're about even so far, not that Trevor's keeping score, but it's a nigh-daily curse now.
But a toast. Yes. Trevor centers himself, takes up his glass, and draws a slow breath, because--
Words are hard. Finding the right words that won't sound ridiculous is harder still.]
To... [Something, he's tempted to say. But that's not what Adrian wants to hear.] To the luckiest man in the world, who's making a complete idiot of himself and enjoying every moment, because he's doing it beside you.
[That toast gets a soft laugh out of Alucard, and he raises his glass.]
I don't know if I'll drink to all of that, but I can toast to the spirit of it.
[It's wonderful, the weight of the glass in his hand. The clinkof the glasses together. The music that weaves it's way through and makes the whole moment absolute perfect.]
And be very glad that neither of us have to drive back. We're consuming the whole of this bottle.
[Champagne is a bit out of Trevor's wheelhouse. He's used to harder liquor and heavy lagers, but he's not going to look a gift drink in the mouth. And it's not bad (he thinks), just not his usual style.
But they are drinking the entire bottle, and it's not entirely up to the dignified standard of the place to drain his entire flute in one go, but there's something that needs discussing tonight, and Trevor can probably grace it better with a bit of liquid courage behind his words. For whatever it's worth, he doesn't make it look undignified.]
Did your family ever come to places like this when you were growing up? We did, every now and then.
[It's never something Alucard has explicitly stated, but he grew up in the castle outside of humanity, as much as his mother protested the matter at first. The only reason Lisa Tepes had relented was due to Alucard's rapid aging. To expose him to the world was a danger, and that she wouldn't abide. Even though it meant her son would be isolated. Alucard knew it always bothered her.
He doesn't let the thought linger. Not when there happier memories.]
They went out though. A lot, sometimes dressed even more elaborately than we are, others my mother was just dragging him to see a movie which he almost always hated. I think she just liked hearing his critical thoughts after.
[Trevor probably didn't expect the Alucard's Parents Relationship department to happen, but oh well. Alucard's too proud of the two most days, and it shows in the warmth of his voice now.]
[Adrian's always spoken so highly of his family. Defying Trevor's expectations once again, they actually sound like a happy family. Decent parents, who probably allowed Adrian to be a child at some point in his young life, rather than forcing him through endless drills and battle formations and paces and sparring and--
Casual alcoholism. Trevor refills their glasses and takes another sip of his own drink. This line of thinking isn't entirely fair, he knows this. Not to himself, and not to his family. The Belmonts were odd, for lack of a better word. But they weren't necessarily bad. Trevor's still learning to distinguish between the two, and that's part of the struggle in all this nonsense between himself and Adrian. Or even, himself, Adrian and Sypha. It's not normal by any standards he's known, but that doesn't mean it's bad.
And in any case, he's quite enjoying it.]
Do you like going to the movies? Or the theater? I'd have pegged you for box seats at the opera, but not cinema.
I've actually never attended an opera before. [Alucard shrugs, although he is careful to keep an eye on how quickly Trevor refills their glasses. He's not going to comment on the matter so early in the evening, but...
...he and Sypha know how to deal with Trevor's alcohol consumption. As long as it's just the bottle between the two of them and then a dinner wine, it's fine. Just enough to make sure the evening's nerves are gone, and if they both go to bed tonight having done no more than kissed, then that's perfectly fine by the dhampir.]
And yes, if our Netflix subscription and various art house streaming subscriptions didn't tell you, I do enjoy movies. Nearly as much as my mother and I enjoy watching my father complain. We used to see a film, place bets about what he'd complain about, then take him out to see who'd win.
[Those were good memories. The films were ranged from animated to deeply serious to just about anything from the Fast and the Furious franchise on principle. And there's a very thin, pained smile from that memory too. Ever since his mother's medical liscence was revoked it has been...fragile, back at the castle. Hard.]
Were you particularly young when you started getting dragged to places like this?
[Trevor has to stifle a snicker behind one hand, because something about the notion of Dracula bitching about movies is more entertaining than it has any right to be. It lends him a degree of humanity Trevor had never considered before Adrian came into his life, and it's as disconcerting as it is endearing. Trevor doesn't even question it anymore. He's sure there are only so many times Adrian can hear You're kidding, there is no way Dracula actually... before it gets nauseating.
But that's not the half of it on this particular point. Trevor shrugs, gesturing vaguely with one hand.]
Not places like this. I wouldn't bore you with the places my family dragged me to. They're... sycophantic. There's no heart or quality to it, just-- Just appearances, you know? Charity balls and award dinners, because God forbid you get on the Duke's bad side and lose his sponsorship; better to kiss ass and save face than actually do anything worthwhile for society.
[From Trevor's tone, it sounds as if worthwhile translates to anything but hunting monsters.]
So yes. They were parading me around from the time I was five or so. In tiny suits, with shoes I never kept on and always got a wollop for.
[Trevor's hand tightens momentarily around Adrian's, then relaxes again when he forces himself back to the present.]
But you've never been to an opera? [It's almost incredulous.] Carmen? Madama Butterfly? Tosca?
[In fairness, somrt of it is because it's just so much fun to get Dracula going, especially when it came to the world outside of the castle. Dracula is still a man of invention, but for all that he might have ever been able to predict cameras and film and all the other parts of it, he alone could not create content.
And no way he could dream up Hamlet But With Lions.
Alucard is careful to listen though. Trevor talks so little about his own family, and so when he does, Alucard is always at full attention. The squeeze of his hand doesn't matter. Alucard's dealt with worse.]
I'm sure that you at least looked extremely charming.
[He'll move away from the subject, only because Trevor's discomfort is clear.]
I have not. And if that's your next date idea, then I'm very enthusiastic.
[Not that Trevor is an avid opera fan or anything, but live musical theater is an experience Adrian should have. Adrian, of all people, because just sitting here as he is, he looks like the caliber that belongs in an opera box seat with tiny gold binoculars. As if anyone in this restaurant could stop by the table and start discussing the finer points of Matisse or Verdi or Tarkovsky, and Adrian could navigate the conversation just as fluently from any point.
The realization makes Trevor feel out of place. Because he's never looked like he belonged in high society. And maybe he doesn't, and that's perfectly fine, but beside Adrian?
Adrian makes him want to do better. Be better.]
In fact, that's where I'm taking you and Sypha on our date together. We're getting box seats. Samson and Delilah is playing this month, and your jaw will hit the floor when you walk into the National Opera. If anything can rival your father's castle...
[Alucard lets out a soft laugh, and he pauses so that he can put his other hand on the table. He leans his cheek against his hand, content.]
I like going out with you. It makes you come up with more ideas for continuing to be out.
[It's said with a very, very warm tone. And he can't read Trevor's mind, right now, but if he could, the dhampir would be all but glowing from the words. Then gently tutting at Trevor's low estimation of himself.
But the waiter appears for all the appropriate orders before Alucard can say much more, and all the lovey dovey glances from the dhampir disappear for just a few minutes. He's all polite business, asking questions about ingredients and then settling on a rack of lamb with a red wine to pair with it.]
[Trevor's own order -- wagyu filet, rare -- is laughably predictable but notably without alcohol to accompany it. He does have some sense. Sometimes. Currently, it's being employed under the knowledge that he needs to have a somewhat clear head moving forward, and the awareness that he's nearly polished off half their champagne bottle as-is. He's not going to lead this conversation as a drunken mess.
The server is off again, and Trevor takes a moment to come back to himself -- to remember what they were talking about. Right, opera. And Adrian liking to go out with him, which almost sets Trevor to short-circuiting again. It's infuriating, how often Adrian does that to him; arrests thought, flatters him to thoughtlessness. And there's that notion again, that Trevor's become his thrall.
But perhaps real love is just as sinister.]
I have something of an ulterior motive for bringing you out tonight. It might be better to get that out of the way first.
[If the finer details of it weren't digging their claws deep into his mind...]
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Dork.
[It's not an insult if it's the truth. Adrian and Sypha are total nerds; Trevor's told them as much, and their acknowledgement makes it all the more entertaining. But it's endearing. Everything they do is adorable. The more Trevor allows himself to acknowledge that truth, the freer -- and more foolish -- he feels.
They rarely poke fun at his more vulnerable moments. Sypha recognizes them for what they are, and throws the occasional good-natured jibe. Adrian treats them with respect, almost handles them with kid gloves. But neither of them has ever made Trevor regret opening up to them or feeling anything. That's crucial, and it's far more than Trevor's ever gotten from his family.
Adrian and Sypha are starting to feel safe.]
You certainly know your way around a man's wrist. It's practically indecent.
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[Trevor's called Alucard worse than dork or nerd anyway. Early on, it was only vampire or Alucard's name with an unwanted gravity that made Alucard chafe. These days, it's easier. Better for certain, and it's lead to a far better relationship than Alucard ever anticipated.
He's still unsure what his father makes of it. Alucard does know that he doesn't care.]
We both know I'm familiar with more than just wrists. Speaking of, give me your other.
[He motions for the other set of cufflinks, knowing the second set will be much easier to deal with than the first.]
How far is this place from the house anyway?
[Trevor's not given him the name of the place, the address, any identifying features besides extremely fancy.]
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Belatedly, it occurs to Trevor that maybe boundaries should have been established before they left the house.]
About ten minutes. It will probably depend on traffic. You'll like it, I think. There's supposedly a live string quartet.
[Trevor casts Adrian a sidelong glance, then focuses his attention on the dhampir's hands instead.]
Anything I should know before we arrive? [Trevor's lowered his voice, gone a bit somber.] Limitations on hand-holding? Dancing? Anything you'd find distasteful in public?
[For all his false bravado, Trevor almost seems nervous tonight.]
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It's the most natural movement in the world when Alucard's fingers move and lace together with Trevors, cooler hand against warm. Of course Alucard's hands are smoother, with none of the callouses of monster work done over the decades. That contrast is one that the dhampir takes joy in, just like the differences in body temperatures, just like how their natural shapes are at odds. (He's too slender, even if it's all muscle. Trevor's build is wider, and if Alucard was being honest, he found it more attractive than his own.)]
Mmm, yes. It already sounds perfect.
[It's an important question. It's one that requires a considered answer, and Alucard is thoughtful before giving a response.]
Nothing too lingering in the kiss department, if only out of fear of the two of us getting carried away. [It's been known to happen.] Beyond that, whatever you feel safe doing.
[If allies see him smooching a dhampir, for example, that might not be ideal.]
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Nothing's ever come easy for Trevor. Nothing this simple has ever been this beautiful.
Momentarily lost for words, Trevor brings Adrian's hand to his lips instead, and presses a lingering kiss to the dhampir's knuckles. He's not sure why it's so sobering to realize that things can pass so easily between them. Maybe it's unknowable, and maybe for once in his damn life, Trevor doesn't have to destroy everything important to find the answer. Maybe it can just... be. Without Trevor complicating everything.]
Free reign? I think you're going to regret that. [Trevor smirks.] I feel like they taught me Viennese waltzes just to prepare me for you.
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But this evening is more than likely to lay certain preferences bare, and that's fine by Alucard. Let tonight be the start of a new chapter for all three of them.]
I bet you say that to all your dance partners.
[A laugh is threaded through those worse, and Alucard is all but beaming at Trevor.]
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More than suitable. They've been like a delicate dance themselves, and sometimes the missteps are torture, but the rhythm is completely irresistible.
It's another few minutes before the car lumbers to a stop before their destination. The place is ostentatious, to say the least; all sleek modern edges and glowing fountains, and without even looking inside, Trevor would bet money on the presence of Chihuly chandeliers.]
Wait here a moment.
[Trevor nods his thanks to their driver as he climbs out, then circles around to open Adrian's door. And of course, like the proper gentleman Adrian's suddenly discovered in him, he's offered his arm to the dhampir as well.]
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The car jostles every so often, causing the beads of Alucard's jacket to brush against Trevor's wrist. There's an apologetic look every time, and Alucard vows that on the way back, he'll just take the middle seat and lean against Trevor the entire time.
There's no protest when they arrive and Alucard is told to wait to get out of the car. He's practically cheering for the statement, as silly and ridiculous as it sounds. This is a date in every way that matters, and he could practically scream from the joy of it all. He's made a promise to himself not to question what has spurred Trevor to acting like this. It's happened. Alucard's happy enough for that.
He takes Trevor's arm when it's offered, aware that the ground beneath their feet are cobblestones placed for elegance and the city's more touristy old world feel. Doesn't matter. It's right for this moment. Right for walking up to the front doors of an all too fancy and expensive restaurant with his boyfriend, the two of them looking far better than they have any right to.
There's a moment when Alucard leans in, right as the doorman opens the door for them both.]
Thank you.
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[Trevor's genuinely baffled, but Adrian doesn't have time to answer before Trevor becomes preoccupied with reservation details with the host. It's a brief exchange before they're being shown to their table. The booth they're shown to is well-away from the kitchens and main thoroughfare, perhaps not exactly private but the panels are high enough to give the illusion. The place is dimly-lit as a whole, and the candles at each table lend to the overall ambiance. And as promised, a string quartet occupies one corner of the place, drawing out subdued melodies just loudly enough to not draw attention to themselves.
It's not bad, by Trevor's estimation. Formal to be sure, but not as pretentious as the places he used to visit with his family, which is a definite point in its favor. But the champagne already chilling at their table? That's just a bonus, and the host is kind enough to fill their glasses and leave their menus before shuffling off again.
Trevor stays at Adrian's side, ensures he's settled and comfortable in his booth before slipping into the one across from him.]
Thoughts? It's not what I expected but that's probably a good thing.
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[There is indeed no time to answer. The reservation is much more important, and for all the world, Alucard is still stunned that this is happening at all. He'd have been happy enough going to a bar with Trevor, never mind sitting in a place that's probably...well. He's not paying attention to the menu prices until he absolutely must, nor thinking about how expensive bottle service must be. It'll be ridiculous, and that is that.
The only problem in all of this (and there are so few problems) is where Trevor sits. He's across from Alucard, not beside him, and if that's the only complaint of the evening, well. That speaks volumes. This place's intimacy is already far more than Alucard would ever dare to hope for, and it's why his response is absolutely besotted.]
It's perfect.
[And in truth, those are all the words that Alucard has.]
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It is perfect, if only because Adrian is happy with it. This is never something Trevor would do of his own volition, but Adrian's so besotted (and that alone is something of an unbelievable sight) that Trevor's making a mental note to arrange things like this more often.]
I'm glad. I worried you might think it was too... You know. Too much.
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Sometimes over the top is exactly the right amount.
[Alucard's right hand definitely reaches for the champagne class, but his other lays flat on the table, vaguely extended in Trevor's direction.]
And you're reinforced the fact we are absolutely doing this for Sypha when she's back. Her reaction to this kind of place will be priceless.
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I'm sure she looks better in a tuxedo than either of us. Does she even own a dress?
[Trevor resists the urge to point out that Adrian would look decent in an evening gown as well.]
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[Which means that if it ever happens, Alucard will be utterly beside himself.]
I genuinely don't know if she owns a dress. I know she has skirts, I've seen her wear them before, but being a Speaker, I don't suspect she has a dress that would....conform to standards here, for a lack of a better phrase.
[He could be wrong. God, Alucard wants to be wrong and stunned into silence. But for now, he can lie back when he's alone and reflect on that mental image.
Until then, there are other important matters. He takes the champagne in hand, and his thumb runs slowly and softly over Trevor's knuckles.]
Did you have a toast in mind?
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Being in whatever this is with both of them has manufactured some inordinately strange trains of thought for Trevor. Clothing, for example. The notion of anything even vaguely attractive becomes a mental struggle between whether Sypha or Adrian would look better in it. They're about even so far, not that Trevor's keeping score, but it's a nigh-daily curse now.
But a toast. Yes. Trevor centers himself, takes up his glass, and draws a slow breath, because--
Words are hard. Finding the right words that won't sound ridiculous is harder still.]
To... [Something, he's tempted to say. But that's not what Adrian wants to hear.] To the luckiest man in the world, who's making a complete idiot of himself and enjoying every moment, because he's doing it beside you.
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I don't know if I'll drink to all of that, but I can toast to the spirit of it.
[It's wonderful, the weight of the glass in his hand. The clinkof the glasses together. The music that weaves it's way through and makes the whole moment absolute perfect.]
And be very glad that neither of us have to drive back. We're consuming the whole of this bottle.
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But they are drinking the entire bottle, and it's not entirely up to the dignified standard of the place to drain his entire flute in one go, but there's something that needs discussing tonight, and Trevor can probably grace it better with a bit of liquid courage behind his words. For whatever it's worth, he doesn't make it look undignified.]
Did your family ever come to places like this when you were growing up? We did, every now and then.
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[It's never something Alucard has explicitly stated, but he grew up in the castle outside of humanity, as much as his mother protested the matter at first. The only reason Lisa Tepes had relented was due to Alucard's rapid aging. To expose him to the world was a danger, and that she wouldn't abide. Even though it meant her son would be isolated. Alucard knew it always bothered her.
He doesn't let the thought linger. Not when there happier memories.]
They went out though. A lot, sometimes dressed even more elaborately than we are, others my mother was just dragging him to see a movie which he almost always hated. I think she just liked hearing his critical thoughts after.
[Trevor probably didn't expect the Alucard's Parents Relationship department to happen, but oh well. Alucard's too proud of the two most days, and it shows in the warmth of his voice now.]
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Casual alcoholism. Trevor refills their glasses and takes another sip of his own drink. This line of thinking isn't entirely fair, he knows this. Not to himself, and not to his family. The Belmonts were odd, for lack of a better word. But they weren't necessarily bad. Trevor's still learning to distinguish between the two, and that's part of the struggle in all this nonsense between himself and Adrian. Or even, himself, Adrian and Sypha. It's not normal by any standards he's known, but that doesn't mean it's bad.
And in any case, he's quite enjoying it.]
Do you like going to the movies? Or the theater? I'd have pegged you for box seats at the opera, but not cinema.
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...he and Sypha know how to deal with Trevor's alcohol consumption. As long as it's just the bottle between the two of them and then a dinner wine, it's fine. Just enough to make sure the evening's nerves are gone, and if they both go to bed tonight having done no more than kissed, then that's perfectly fine by the dhampir.]
And yes, if our Netflix subscription and various art house streaming subscriptions didn't tell you, I do enjoy movies. Nearly as much as my mother and I enjoy watching my father complain. We used to see a film, place bets about what he'd complain about, then take him out to see who'd win.
[Those were good memories. The films were ranged from animated to deeply serious to just about anything from the Fast and the Furious franchise on principle. And there's a very thin, pained smile from that memory too. Ever since his mother's medical liscence was revoked it has been...fragile, back at the castle. Hard.]
Were you particularly young when you started getting dragged to places like this?
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But that's not the half of it on this particular point. Trevor shrugs, gesturing vaguely with one hand.]
Not places like this. I wouldn't bore you with the places my family dragged me to. They're... sycophantic. There's no heart or quality to it, just-- Just appearances, you know? Charity balls and award dinners, because God forbid you get on the Duke's bad side and lose his sponsorship; better to kiss ass and save face than actually do anything worthwhile for society.
[From Trevor's tone, it sounds as if worthwhile translates to anything but hunting monsters.]
So yes. They were parading me around from the time I was five or so. In tiny suits, with shoes I never kept on and always got a wollop for.
[Trevor's hand tightens momentarily around Adrian's, then relaxes again when he forces himself back to the present.]
But you've never been to an opera? [It's almost incredulous.] Carmen? Madama Butterfly? Tosca?
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And no way he could dream up Hamlet But With Lions.
Alucard is careful to listen though. Trevor talks so little about his own family, and so when he does, Alucard is always at full attention. The squeeze of his hand doesn't matter. Alucard's dealt with worse.]
I'm sure that you at least looked extremely charming.
[He'll move away from the subject, only because Trevor's discomfort is clear.]
I have not. And if that's your next date idea, then I'm very enthusiastic.
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[Not that Trevor is an avid opera fan or anything, but live musical theater is an experience Adrian should have. Adrian, of all people, because just sitting here as he is, he looks like the caliber that belongs in an opera box seat with tiny gold binoculars. As if anyone in this restaurant could stop by the table and start discussing the finer points of Matisse or Verdi or Tarkovsky, and Adrian could navigate the conversation just as fluently from any point.
The realization makes Trevor feel out of place. Because he's never looked like he belonged in high society. And maybe he doesn't, and that's perfectly fine, but beside Adrian?
Adrian makes him want to do better. Be better.]
In fact, that's where I'm taking you and Sypha on our date together. We're getting box seats. Samson and Delilah is playing this month, and your jaw will hit the floor when you walk into the National Opera. If anything can rival your father's castle...
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I like going out with you. It makes you come up with more ideas for continuing to be out.
[It's said with a very, very warm tone. And he can't read Trevor's mind, right now, but if he could, the dhampir would be all but glowing from the words. Then gently tutting at Trevor's low estimation of himself.
But the waiter appears for all the appropriate orders before Alucard can say much more, and all the lovey dovey glances from the dhampir disappear for just a few minutes. He's all polite business, asking questions about ingredients and then settling on a rack of lamb with a red wine to pair with it.]
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The server is off again, and Trevor takes a moment to come back to himself -- to remember what they were talking about. Right, opera. And Adrian liking to go out with him, which almost sets Trevor to short-circuiting again. It's infuriating, how often Adrian does that to him; arrests thought, flatters him to thoughtlessness. And there's that notion again, that Trevor's become his thrall.
But perhaps real love is just as sinister.]
I have something of an ulterior motive for bringing you out tonight. It might be better to get that out of the way first.
[If the finer details of it weren't digging their claws deep into his mind...]
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