[Sypha could have looked at the damn things and instantly understood what they were and, moreover, how to deal with the problem. She's the brains of the operation with understanding, Trevor's the brains when it comes to tactics. It's a reminder of why they work best when there's three around, rather than two.]
But it could be to our advantage. Go down only once and not come back, like this was all some kind of exploratory mistake gone wrong.
[They're words more to himself than to Trevor and--
Oh. Fingers. Moving. Trevor has caught Alucard's attention. The dhampir makes an embarrassed noise before he shrugs off his coat.]
[Was it not an exploratory mistake gone wrong? Trevor's not sure who they're fooling here, but--
He offers Adrian a knowing eyeroll, and nods as he carefully drapes Adrian's coat over his arm and proceeds upstairs. Oddly, he's familiar enough with Adrian's routine to know where the missing coat should fit in his closet, and he replaces it in the likeliest-looking spot (careful to brush out the shoulders as Adrian would want) before continuing on duties.
Golden skulls. Something about it still nags at him, try as he might to ignore the way it tugs at his awareness. It will come to him, in time. Probably at precisely the wrong moment and two days too late, if past experience is anything to go by.]
Hell, there's nothing subtle about it, is there?
[Trevor's mumbling to himself as he finally gets the fire started in Adrian's hearth, and he stands after the task is accomplished. Stares, as if the fire will give him any sodding clue. It doesn't, but he's certain he's starting to smell of woodsmoke, and he can use a moment's respite from that, if nothing else.]
[Alucard lingers in front of the fire for a little while longer, appreciating the heat. Oh yes, the house has actual heating that he can control, but there's something about an actual fire that is a true comfort in a way that just being warm isn't.
Nothing about this is right, but the particulars for the reason of right or wrong is absolutely beyond the dhampir. He doesn't like it, not one single bit, and there's an aggravated sigh as he finally peels off his gloves. His hands are warm enough now, thanks to the fire and their wool lining.
Heading up, he goes to his room first. It's the room he uses least, and that's reflected in the sparse decor and the general stillness of the place. Alucard has long since found himself happier in Sypha's or Trevor's beds, and he's awaiting a commissioned bedframe meant to hold all three of them without any sort of overcrowding. The upstairs parlor will be the bedroom, when all is said and done, and the three separate rooms kept for when one needs space alone.
He walks over to the hearth, cool hands resting on Trevor's shoulder.]
I'll start on dinner, when this is done. I don't suspect you've eaten all day, have you?
Not since breakfast, but don't worry yourself. I'd rather a bath.
[After stalking the catacombs all day, he swears he can still feel the cobwebs in his hair. And perhaps it's all psychological, but that musty, earthy stench seems to be clinging to his coat.
And it doesn't occur to him that he could have both. That he could possibly bathe and then eat, but taking care of himself has never been his strong suit if alcohol isn't involved. Case in point, he'd fully intended to have a liquid dinner until Adrian mentioned dinner, and -- vile betrayer -- Trevor's stomach gives an involuntary grumbly whine at the notion. No chance it would allow him to refuse Adrian's cooking.]
Of course, if you're making something anyway...
{Trevor presses a kiss to the hand on his shoulder, and moves onto the hearth in Sypha's room.]
But he'd rather cook. It relaxes him, going through the motions. Making sure that there's something creative made of frustrations, and then it fills a true need. It's alchemy in it's way, and it feels like a magic that, if not in par with Sypha's, is at least something of Alucard's own.]
I'll go get started, and finish the last of the wards when I'm done.
[Alucard can hear your stomach, Trevor. It's a reminder of how long the day has been, just as the kiss to his hand is a reminder that Alucard's worry is becoming far too much.
He withdraws to the kitchen. Fills a pot with water and a few herbs and a lemon, and puts it all to boil while the chicken in the refrigerator is brought out and butterflied. Alucard knows his kitchen benefits from all of Dracula's advanced technology, putting it a century ahead of all other kitchens in London.
Poached chicken breast isn't much. Steamed carrots isn't anything very special. But it comes together quickly, and Alucard knows that the fires will be lit long before he's done cooking.
That's fine. He sits at the table in the kitchen, focusing on the rosemary permeating the room. Good. It helps. It distracts.]
[It's almost an afterthought, called after Adrian when he leaves Trevor to his own devices again. He's been a flurry of nervous energy since they left the catacombs, and while Trevor doesn't blame him for it, he also knows Adrian has a tendency to wear himself thin when he's like this.
After dinner, after whatever wards are left to be placed, Trevor resolves to get Adrian out of his own head. Whatever form that takes, Trevor will dedicate himself to the task with all due diligence.
The remaining fires are built with Trevor still idling in a state of preoccupation. The golden skulls problem still tugs at something long-buried in his memory, and trying to wrench it free is an exercise in (frustrating) futility. He's not certain how he can even smell rosemary over all the firewood currently burning in the manor, but his stomach loudly protests again, and he begrudgingly decides to put off the bath until after they've eaten.
He joins Adrian in the kitchen shortly thereafter, thankfully bereft his hat and cape. ]
[Alucard looks up when Trevor enters, looking mostly surprised about the speed that all has been done. There's five minutes left for the poaching, and that means he can go take care of the wards. He's quick to get to his feet.]
I'll do that now. Can you make sure the pots don't boil over, please?
[There's no time for Trevor to respond. Alucard's taking advantage of vampire speed to get upstairs. Get the wards set. Ensure that tonight they're safe no matter what tries to escape those catacombs.
He's slightly more relaxed upon entering the kitchen again. Slight being the key word, because as Alucard fishes the chicken out of the poaching liquid, his shoulders are still too square. His body is still too taught when he puts the dinner plates down in front of them both, and there's that uncomfortable silence again as Alucard eats. He doesn't savor any of it, he only gets it eaten so that the matter is done.
There's been so many worse things in his life. Alucard doesn't know why it is that this is getting to him so badly.
He needs to break the silence. Small talk. Good, tedious small talk.]
I'm probably going to go right to bed after I do this evening's dishes, if you don't mind me in your bed tonight.
[Not that Adrian is giving him much room to suggest otherwise, but he is absolutely not going to bed right after dinner. After the rather staggering amount of shit Sypha and Adrian gave him about hygeine and regular bathing, he's not about to allow Adrian in his bed without a bath.
Trevor couldn't care less, honestly, but it's the principle of the thing. And as Trevor has practically inhaled his own food...]
You know I never mind.
[Trevor casts Adrian a sidelong glare as he gathers their empty dishes together and dumps them in the sink. They can wait 'til morning. At the moment, there's no matter quite as pressing as Adrian's dire need of relaxation, and Trevor's just given himself an idea.
Before Adrian can escape, Trevor slides up behind and hooks an arm around his waist, pulls him back to bury his face into the dhampir's shoulder and nip gently at the nape of his neck. It's a mean trick, the neck thing, and very nearly indecent; so of course, Trevor's merciless about employing it.]
But we're having a bath first. Together. You and Sypha can't insist I wash constantly and then come to my bed dirty. It's hypocrisy, at best.
[In fairness, Sypha and Alucard began the campaign to Make Trevor Take a Bath Several Times a Week because at the start of all of this, it had been needed. A very different life had left a lasting impression on the Belmont, and while they were happy to live with him they were much less happy to live with the scent that he carried.
Alucard's all set to say something about being irritated by how long the bed is taking to make, or at least something about doing the dishes quickly, he is ambushed! Set upon! Attacked in the sneaky way only vampire hunters can sneak, all while honing in on his true weakness: attention to his neck.
There's an immediate noise that's Alucard's version of a squeak (it's actually just a squeak and he lies to lie to himself that it isn't) from Trevor's sudden ambush. He's done it plenty of times, and Alucard's found it easy to escape from if he's needed to. Sometimes it happens automatically, but now--
--not happening. Alucard's body rebels against the desire to try and escape Trevor's grasp, and so goes slack instead. He isn't even going to attempt this fight.]
I'm not in any negotiating position, am I?
[He's in the opposite. But more than that, having Trevor back against him feels like the release he's needed since this started, and it's more likely to help with plans for the next few days.]
[At the very least, Adrian's not resisting -- either the suggestion or the contact -- and that gives Trevor some hope that the evening's not a total loss. He gives Adrian's neck a parting nibble as he disengages, and tugs at the dhampir's sleeve as a silent beckon. Bath. Now.
Trevor remembers the first time he set foot in the downstairs bathroom, because that was the moment he'd decided this manor was a madman's palace of excess, and Adrian an abject hedonist. There's no reason for a Roman-style bath in this house, let alone one of this magnitude. Then again, there's no apparent reason for many of the strange technologies Adrian possesses, but Trevor came to appreciate most of them ably enough.
Besides, the hot water is glorious after a hard day, which helped to assuage Trevor's borderline aversion to bathing, and he stopped questioning it altogether when they discovered that all three of them can bathe together like this. Henceforth, ever and enthusiastically did the Belmont sing its praises.
But baths require nudity, and Trevor has long been a fan of not wearing clothes in Adrian's presence. There's no ceremony to it, and no shyness; just stripping and leaving his garments in an untidy pile by the open bathroom door.]
[Trevor being remotely interested in baths is what Alucard calls a victory, even though he's aware that it is only because it involves the dhampir also being nude. So be it.
He follows after with only a moment's glance back to the dishes. The baths themselves are what Adrian considers the house's only real luxury, because it is in fact over kill to have a miniaturized bath house in the middle of the city. There are steam rooms and the like left over from the Ottomans here, yes, but more than that, Alucard leaves such places feeling much calmer and civilized. Why would't he simply have one in his own house?
[Trevor's more unabashed with his appreciation of Adrian's body. No stolen glances or quick peeks, just a sidelong leer that continues even after the dhampir has stepped into the bath. He's never been particularly shy about his admiration, but he learned early on that being vocal about it (at least, Trevor's crass version of vocal) was unwelcome. So even if Adrian is the most finely-built man Trevor's ever seen, even if Trevor's driven practically to fits by Adrian's long lines and pale skin, even if he has to bite back against the swell of-- Even if, he says nothing. Instead, Trevor follows suit, slips into the basin behind Adrian, and--
It takes a moment -- more than a moment, to be fair -- for Trevor to reclaim his wits. Hot water hitting sore muscles is vying for the best feeling in the world at the moment, and while he manages to stifle a groan, it manages to surface as a long sigh instead. So he unwinds, slowly but surely, and remembers why he'd tempted Adrian here in the first place. Sadly, this is not about his own aching legs and back.
Trevor has effectively melted against the side of the tub already, but he holds a hand out to Adrian, beckoning him closer.]
Come here, will you? I've barely held you all day. I'm beginning to forget what it's like.
[Which is the exaggeration of the century, and Trevor couldn't care less.]
[Alucard is already stretched out and content in the water when Trevor joins him. He doesn't look or insist Trevor get in already. Moments like this require moving at one's own pace, and he'd never rush either of them along.
He does look though, when the water is disturbed and Trevor comes into view. The Belmont is all torso and muscles, scars earned from simply being a Belmont and all that entails. They compliment so much of him. Draw the eye in. Emphasize his shape, and in far more intimate moments, Alucard is inclined to kiss along their lines and leave soft bites with his front teeth (never fangs, never). Right now though, they get a thin smile and a very welcome sigh. There's longing in there, but Alucard's not inclined to move that further along tonight.
He smiles. It's nice, seeing Trevor at peace, or at least near it. It is a rarity that shouldn't be as such.]
Taking romance lessons from Sypha are we?
[He approves, if the tone is anything to go by. Trevor's crass most days, but things like that? That hits the vampire in ways he's never going to deny. Being romanced instead of the one doing the romancing always feels wonderful, and he moves into Trevor's arms without a moment's hesitation.
Just being in this room does wonders for the anxiety.]
[Trevor's tempted to remind Adrian that he doesn't have to take shit from Sypha, except-- Well, the less said of that, the better. The self-admonishment effectively silences any further argument, at least; as if his current position weren't serving well enough as an antivenom. It's exceedingly difficult to raise his hackles when Adrian is wet and naked in his arms.
Trevor wastes absolutely no time wrapping himself around Adrian, either. Both arms wind loosely around the dhampir's waist, coax him to lie back against Trevor's chest, head pillowed against his shoulder, and-- God help him, he could fall asleep like this. They probably both could, after the day they've had.
But Trevor can't help the way his mouth tends to wander, to press idly lingering kisses to the crown of Adrian's head, his temple, his cheek, his jaw, down his neck to his shoulder and then along his arm until he's kissing water away from each of Adrian's fingertips in turn. Slow, deliberate, and his hands only move as much as they must to bring new parts of Adrian to his lips to kiss. One need only see Trevor in moments like this to understand; he can be patient, he can be thorough and attentive, he can be worshipful, if only given the proper focus.]
[Sypha's a powerhouse with words. Trevor has always been better at action, just as Alucard's been. It drives Sypha mad some days, but others? Others like this just make it lovely, and now is no exception.
He'd have been happy just to be held. It's the number one way to the dhampir's heart, to be quiet and curled up with one or both of them, reading or talkign or doing nothing at all. As three, they don't get to be out and about together, holding hands or anything of the sort. Oh, Trevor and Sypha can go hand in hand in public, but that's it. Everything else is dangerous.
So when they get to moments like this, Alucard pulled against Trevor's chest and the Belmont absolutely spoiling him with affection, the dhampir goes limp. Relaxed utterly, focused on his breathing, Trevor's, and nothing more. The sigh that comes with those kisses is that of a lovestruck maiden, Alucard's never denied that, and oh. It's the kisses to his fingertips that truly get Alucard.
He can't hold Trevor's hand. Said hands are busy. So he can only murmur softly against Trevor's neck:]
[Not that Adrian seems to mind the spoiling, and with no complaints voiced, Trevor is content to carry on his attentions. It's some careful maneuvering that brings him back up and then down Adrian's other side, diligent to match the shower of kisses so that no part of the dhampir feels neglected. At least, no part within reasonable reach.
Perhaps he had a few shots of brandy while he was building the fires. He's not normally this liberal with his affections, after all; not unless he's either drunk, or he knows his conquest is already ensured. But he never smelled of alcohol tonight, even during dinner. Perhaps, just now, he simply recognizes the importance of getting Adrian well and truly spent on adoration. He'll never tell, and Adrian has no way of knowing for sure.]
I love you. [It's no more than a whisper of hot breath in Adrian's ear, spilling soft across his throat and heady in the wake of Trevor's kisses.] I didn't mean to worry you today. I fully intended to be back before you woke.
[He wants this constantly. To just be surrounded by love from the two of them and to give it in return, the world being of no matter at all. His hand reaches up to try and stroke Trevor's cheek, and he manages to move a finger down Trevor's jawline with a careful tenderness that he feels every inch of.
He's doing such a good job of covering Alucard in affection. Alucard hasn't even stopped to wonder why Trevor is this affectionate right now. He just wants more.]
I love you too. [Easy words to say. He feels every inch of them. There's no whispering though. Some words should be said loud and clear.]
You have my word. I'll inform you every time I intend to step outside the manor.
[Which is not at all what Adrian meant, and Trevor knows it, but if he can't be contrary, what else is there for him?
Trevor's hand strays, only briefly -- in the name of contrariness -- before he reminds himself very firmly that he's dedicated to helping Adrian relax tonight. There's always time for more, another night, and with that reminder, his arms wind once more around Adrian's waist.]
Dip your head back, will you? Let me help you out with all that hair.
[Alucard hums softly, content and awash with all Trevor's adoration.]
Might hold you to it.
[It would calm the anxiety, at the very least. Just as much as Trevor's straying hand offers a threatening but wonderful outlet for letting all of said anxiety out. He sighs when it withdraws, and it's probably better not to go down that path tonight.
Alucard wiggles slightly in Trevor's grasp. It's not easy, dipping his head back. Instead, Alucard pinches his nose and simply dunks all of himself down, being careful to ensure that all of his hair comes with him.
When he surfaces, he's careful to look back at Trevor.]
[Holding his damned nose. Absolutely no one has the right to be as equally alluring and adorable as Adrian, and yet...
The dhampir keeps his soaps in a convenient and ostentatious silver rack by the side of this tub. Trevor's simply grateful he can reach it without overly disturbing the pile of relaxed dhampir in his lap. He measures out what he deems to be an appropriate amount -- liberal, given the sheer volume of Adrian's hair -- and carefully combs the shampoo through that mass of gold.]
Much.
[And, granted, Trevor isn't always the best judge of signals. He would like to think he knows Adrian well enough by now, that he could tell if this attention were unwelcome, but he's been burned by that assumption two times too many. So even though his hands are both buried in Adrian's hair, his fingers massaging gently at the dhampir's scalp and gingerly pulling the shampoo through, he still mumbles in Adrian's ear:]
Just let me know if you want more. Or less.
[You know I can get overzealous. That's the unspoken implication.]
[Alucard's hair products usually smell of something light, his preference erring towards sandalwood and citrus. Light, not quiet floral but edging to it. It compliments a much more natural scent that is closer to that of fresh dirt that has been rained upon, and in that, well, it doesn't matter why the combination works. It simply does.
So sandalwood fills the room now, and Alucard exhales contently as it does so.]
I will.
[He probably won't, because the minute Trevor's hands meet Alucard's hair, he's gone. Boneless and happy and relaxed. Trevor's plan has already achieved it's goal, and the man has done almost nothing but touch the dhampir's head.
His eyes close, focusing only on the sensation of touch as Trevor's fingers go over and over his scalp. Soothe over spots that still carry stress, make the vampire feel like some weight really has been lifted.]
[That's high praise from Adrian if Trevor's ever heard it, so he'll take that statement as his goal achieved. Not that they'd been such lofty goals from the start, but it's good to know he's done something to ease Adrian's strain. Given Trevor's partially-responsible for said strain, it's probably the least he can do.
He remains diligent to his task, and say what one might about his lineage, he owes his single-mindedness to the Belmonts, if nothing else. It pays off at times. Like when he's patiently and carefully cupping clean water over Adrian's head, gently combing the shampoo from his hair with both hands.
It's one of Trevor's worst-kept secrets, but he's positively enamored with Adrian's scent. This scent, in particular. It plagues him at times. They'll be doing something completely innocuous -- fetching materials from the vault, or taking an evening stroll, or some-such -- and Trevor will catch a hint of it in Adrian's wake and become suddenly undone by the memories of when he's surrounded by it. And the dhampir wonders after Trevor's amorous moods... More often than not, he's driving Trevor mad with no awareness, without even trying.
It's a blissfully long while before Trevor's rinsed all the soap from Adrian's hair. Though a task completed is no permission for the dhampir too slip away. In fact, Trevor winds both arms around Adrian's waist to keep him well and truly present.]
Anything else you'd like me to wash?
[This asked, of course, with an unwholesome smirk.]
[At some point, time stops working properly. It is lost to relaxation, to finger pads rubbing against scalp, to Trevor's dedication unto a single task. The man's ability to focus has never been lost on Alucard, but it becomes more obvious in the intimate moments more often than not. Oh yes, Trevor's a work horse, but that doesn't require tenderness.
These moments do, and Alucard is so very literally awash in it.
More than that, Alucard is quiet. Still. He lets Trevor work, occasionally stretching out his own arms or legs under the water when the threat of cramps grow. But that is the only movement he makes, until it's time to rinse all that soap out of his hair and Trevor considers the task done.
He's grounded soon after, and Alucard's hands move to sit atop Trevor's. He can't see the smirk, but he suspects it is present.
All the more reason to ignore it.]
No. Just...[He sighs, besotted.] Just this. Please.
[Moments like this are quietly sacred. They demand nothing -- Adrian demands nothing -- and yet they mean everything. Once upon a time, Trevor questioned it, wondered why this happened, how they came to be like this, and more to the point, what was driving Adrian and Sypha to put up with him in the first place. Not anymore. He's decided to stop grappling with the reasons; their connection, their love, is like the geometry of the stars. If he tried to pick apart the logistics, it would drive him mad. He's happier simply enjoying it for the beauty it is.
And hell if he knows how to talk about his own emotions, but showing them? The hands slowly moving behind Adrian, to carefully work slow circles through his low back? The soft kisses that occasionally land on Adrian's temple or neck? All surer proclamation than words could ever be.]
[Silence and soft gestures are far easier for the dhampir to respond to, mostly because it is a language that he also speaks. Sypha is a Speaker and words are her domain, but he and Trevor have no such birthrite. It is easier to communicate through touches. Being held and kissed, having the quiet surrounding them and the fact it can be quiet, comfortable, and lovely.
A soft, happy sigh comes in response from Trevor's fingers against Alucard's back. But it is the kisses that make him happiest, and Alucard tries to kiss back. The angle is hard, but every so often, he catches Trevor's lips against his. Just for a moment. And a moment is perfect.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Sypha could have looked at the damn things and instantly understood what they were and, moreover, how to deal with the problem. She's the brains of the operation with understanding, Trevor's the brains when it comes to tactics. It's a reminder of why they work best when there's three around, rather than two.]
But it could be to our advantage. Go down only once and not come back, like this was all some kind of exploratory mistake gone wrong.
[They're words more to himself than to Trevor and--
Oh. Fingers. Moving. Trevor has caught Alucard's attention. The dhampir makes an embarrassed noise before he shrugs off his coat.]
Thank you. I almost forgot I had it on.
no subject
He offers Adrian a knowing eyeroll, and nods as he carefully drapes Adrian's coat over his arm and proceeds upstairs. Oddly, he's familiar enough with Adrian's routine to know where the missing coat should fit in his closet, and he replaces it in the likeliest-looking spot (careful to brush out the shoulders as Adrian would want) before continuing on duties.
Golden skulls. Something about it still nags at him, try as he might to ignore the way it tugs at his awareness. It will come to him, in time. Probably at precisely the wrong moment and two days too late, if past experience is anything to go by.]
Hell, there's nothing subtle about it, is there?
[Trevor's mumbling to himself as he finally gets the fire started in Adrian's hearth, and he stands after the task is accomplished. Stares, as if the fire will give him any sodding clue. It doesn't, but he's certain he's starting to smell of woodsmoke, and he can use a moment's respite from that, if nothing else.]
no subject
Nothing about this is right, but the particulars for the reason of right or wrong is absolutely beyond the dhampir. He doesn't like it, not one single bit, and there's an aggravated sigh as he finally peels off his gloves. His hands are warm enough now, thanks to the fire and their wool lining.
Heading up, he goes to his room first. It's the room he uses least, and that's reflected in the sparse decor and the general stillness of the place. Alucard has long since found himself happier in Sypha's or Trevor's beds, and he's awaiting a commissioned bedframe meant to hold all three of them without any sort of overcrowding. The upstairs parlor will be the bedroom, when all is said and done, and the three separate rooms kept for when one needs space alone.
He walks over to the hearth, cool hands resting on Trevor's shoulder.]
I'll start on dinner, when this is done. I don't suspect you've eaten all day, have you?
no subject
[After stalking the catacombs all day, he swears he can still feel the cobwebs in his hair. And perhaps it's all psychological, but that musty, earthy stench seems to be clinging to his coat.
And it doesn't occur to him that he could have both. That he could possibly bathe and then eat, but taking care of himself has never been his strong suit if alcohol isn't involved. Case in point, he'd fully intended to have a liquid dinner until Adrian mentioned dinner, and -- vile betrayer -- Trevor's stomach gives an involuntary grumbly whine at the notion. No chance it would allow him to refuse Adrian's cooking.]
Of course, if you're making something anyway...
{Trevor presses a kiss to the hand on his shoulder, and moves onto the hearth in Sypha's room.]
no subject
But he'd rather cook. It relaxes him, going through the motions. Making sure that there's something creative made of frustrations, and then it fills a true need. It's alchemy in it's way, and it feels like a magic that, if not in par with Sypha's, is at least something of Alucard's own.]
I'll go get started, and finish the last of the wards when I'm done.
[Alucard can hear your stomach, Trevor. It's a reminder of how long the day has been, just as the kiss to his hand is a reminder that Alucard's worry is becoming far too much.
He withdraws to the kitchen. Fills a pot with water and a few herbs and a lemon, and puts it all to boil while the chicken in the refrigerator is brought out and butterflied. Alucard knows his kitchen benefits from all of Dracula's advanced technology, putting it a century ahead of all other kitchens in London.
Poached chicken breast isn't much. Steamed carrots isn't anything very special. But it comes together quickly, and Alucard knows that the fires will be lit long before he's done cooking.
That's fine. He sits at the table in the kitchen, focusing on the rosemary permeating the room. Good. It helps. It distracts.]
no subject
[It's almost an afterthought, called after Adrian when he leaves Trevor to his own devices again. He's been a flurry of nervous energy since they left the catacombs, and while Trevor doesn't blame him for it, he also knows Adrian has a tendency to wear himself thin when he's like this.
After dinner, after whatever wards are left to be placed, Trevor resolves to get Adrian out of his own head. Whatever form that takes, Trevor will dedicate himself to the task with all due diligence.
The remaining fires are built with Trevor still idling in a state of preoccupation. The golden skulls problem still tugs at something long-buried in his memory, and trying to wrench it free is an exercise in (frustrating) futility. He's not certain how he can even smell rosemary over all the firewood currently burning in the manor, but his stomach loudly protests again, and he begrudgingly decides to put off the bath until after they've eaten.
He joins Adrian in the kitchen shortly thereafter, thankfully bereft his hat and cape. ]
The fires await your finishing touch, my liege.
no subject
[Alucard looks up when Trevor enters, looking mostly surprised about the speed that all has been done. There's five minutes left for the poaching, and that means he can go take care of the wards. He's quick to get to his feet.]
I'll do that now. Can you make sure the pots don't boil over, please?
[There's no time for Trevor to respond. Alucard's taking advantage of vampire speed to get upstairs. Get the wards set. Ensure that tonight they're safe no matter what tries to escape those catacombs.
He's slightly more relaxed upon entering the kitchen again. Slight being the key word, because as Alucard fishes the chicken out of the poaching liquid, his shoulders are still too square. His body is still too taught when he puts the dinner plates down in front of them both, and there's that uncomfortable silence again as Alucard eats. He doesn't savor any of it, he only gets it eaten so that the matter is done.
There's been so many worse things in his life. Alucard doesn't know why it is that this is getting to him so badly.
He needs to break the silence. Small talk. Good, tedious small talk.]
I'm probably going to go right to bed after I do this evening's dishes, if you don't mind me in your bed tonight.
no subject
Trevor couldn't care less, honestly, but it's the principle of the thing. And as Trevor has practically inhaled his own food...]
You know I never mind.
[Trevor casts Adrian a sidelong glare as he gathers their empty dishes together and dumps them in the sink. They can wait 'til morning. At the moment, there's no matter quite as pressing as Adrian's dire need of relaxation, and Trevor's just given himself an idea.
Before Adrian can escape, Trevor slides up behind and hooks an arm around his waist, pulls him back to bury his face into the dhampir's shoulder and nip gently at the nape of his neck. It's a mean trick, the neck thing, and very nearly indecent; so of course, Trevor's merciless about employing it.]
But we're having a bath first. Together. You and Sypha can't insist I wash constantly and then come to my bed dirty. It's hypocrisy, at best.
no subject
Alucard's all set to say something about being irritated by how long the bed is taking to make, or at least something about doing the dishes quickly, he is ambushed! Set upon! Attacked in the sneaky way only vampire hunters can sneak, all while honing in on his true weakness: attention to his neck.
There's an immediate noise that's Alucard's version of a squeak (it's actually just a squeak and he lies to lie to himself that it isn't) from Trevor's sudden ambush. He's done it plenty of times, and Alucard's found it easy to escape from if he's needed to. Sometimes it happens automatically, but now--
--not happening. Alucard's body rebels against the desire to try and escape Trevor's grasp, and so goes slack instead. He isn't even going to attempt this fight.]
I'm not in any negotiating position, am I?
[He's in the opposite. But more than that, having Trevor back against him feels like the release he's needed since this started, and it's more likely to help with plans for the next few days.]
And it was rather gross down there...
no subject
[At the very least, Adrian's not resisting -- either the suggestion or the contact -- and that gives Trevor some hope that the evening's not a total loss. He gives Adrian's neck a parting nibble as he disengages, and tugs at the dhampir's sleeve as a silent beckon. Bath. Now.
Trevor remembers the first time he set foot in the downstairs bathroom, because that was the moment he'd decided this manor was a madman's palace of excess, and Adrian an abject hedonist. There's no reason for a Roman-style bath in this house, let alone one of this magnitude. Then again, there's no apparent reason for many of the strange technologies Adrian possesses, but Trevor came to appreciate most of them ably enough.
Besides, the hot water is glorious after a hard day, which helped to assuage Trevor's borderline aversion to bathing, and he stopped questioning it altogether when they discovered that all three of them can bathe together like this. Henceforth, ever and enthusiastically did the Belmont sing its praises.
But baths require nudity, and Trevor has long been a fan of not wearing clothes in Adrian's presence. There's no ceremony to it, and no shyness; just stripping and leaving his garments in an untidy pile by the open bathroom door.]
no subject
He follows after with only a moment's glance back to the dishes. The baths themselves are what Adrian considers the house's only real luxury, because it is in fact over kill to have a miniaturized bath house in the middle of the city. There are steam rooms and the like left over from the Ottomans here, yes, but more than that, Alucard leaves such places feeling much calmer and civilized. Why would't he simply have one in his own house?
The decor is far more in the Turkish style anyway, all heated marble and elaborate metal working for the fixtures, the hot, cold, and tepid pools sizeable but not swimming pools either. It's absolutely overkill. And maybe that's just fine.
Alucard's own clothing is taken off layer by careful layer, each garment folded and placed aside on the little wooden bench near the entrance that's meant to serve that exact purpose. It's slow going, not just because of the layers, but because the dhampir keeps sneaking glances in Trevor's direction.
He finishes, finally, and wastes little time getting into the hottest of the baths.]
no subject
It takes a moment -- more than a moment, to be fair -- for Trevor to reclaim his wits. Hot water hitting sore muscles is vying for the best feeling in the world at the moment, and while he manages to stifle a groan, it manages to surface as a long sigh instead. So he unwinds, slowly but surely, and remembers why he'd tempted Adrian here in the first place. Sadly, this is not about his own aching legs and back.
Trevor has effectively melted against the side of the tub already, but he holds a hand out to Adrian, beckoning him closer.]
Come here, will you? I've barely held you all day. I'm beginning to forget what it's like.
[Which is the exaggeration of the century, and Trevor couldn't care less.]
no subject
He does look though, when the water is disturbed and Trevor comes into view. The Belmont is all torso and muscles, scars earned from simply being a Belmont and all that entails. They compliment so much of him. Draw the eye in. Emphasize his shape, and in far more intimate moments, Alucard is inclined to kiss along their lines and leave soft bites with his front teeth (never fangs, never). Right now though, they get a thin smile and a very welcome sigh. There's longing in there, but Alucard's not inclined to move that further along tonight.
He smiles. It's nice, seeing Trevor at peace, or at least near it. It is a rarity that shouldn't be as such.]
Taking romance lessons from Sypha are we?
[He approves, if the tone is anything to go by. Trevor's crass most days, but things like that? That hits the vampire in ways he's never going to deny. Being romanced instead of the one doing the romancing always feels wonderful, and he moves into Trevor's arms without a moment's hesitation.
Just being in this room does wonders for the anxiety.]
no subject
Trevor wastes absolutely no time wrapping himself around Adrian, either. Both arms wind loosely around the dhampir's waist, coax him to lie back against Trevor's chest, head pillowed against his shoulder, and-- God help him, he could fall asleep like this. They probably both could, after the day they've had.
But Trevor can't help the way his mouth tends to wander, to press idly lingering kisses to the crown of Adrian's head, his temple, his cheek, his jaw, down his neck to his shoulder and then along his arm until he's kissing water away from each of Adrian's fingertips in turn. Slow, deliberate, and his hands only move as much as they must to bring new parts of Adrian to his lips to kiss. One need only see Trevor in moments like this to understand; he can be patient, he can be thorough and attentive, he can be worshipful, if only given the proper focus.]
no subject
He'd have been happy just to be held. It's the number one way to the dhampir's heart, to be quiet and curled up with one or both of them, reading or talkign or doing nothing at all. As three, they don't get to be out and about together, holding hands or anything of the sort. Oh, Trevor and Sypha can go hand in hand in public, but that's it. Everything else is dangerous.
So when they get to moments like this, Alucard pulled against Trevor's chest and the Belmont absolutely spoiling him with affection, the dhampir goes limp. Relaxed utterly, focused on his breathing, Trevor's, and nothing more. The sigh that comes with those kisses is that of a lovestruck maiden, Alucard's never denied that, and oh. It's the kisses to his fingertips that truly get Alucard.
He can't hold Trevor's hand. Said hands are busy. So he can only murmur softly against Trevor's neck:]
Mmm. Going to spoil me stupid like this.
no subject
[Not that Adrian seems to mind the spoiling, and with no complaints voiced, Trevor is content to carry on his attentions. It's some careful maneuvering that brings him back up and then down Adrian's other side, diligent to match the shower of kisses so that no part of the dhampir feels neglected. At least, no part within reasonable reach.
Perhaps he had a few shots of brandy while he was building the fires. He's not normally this liberal with his affections, after all; not unless he's either drunk, or he knows his conquest is already ensured. But he never smelled of alcohol tonight, even during dinner. Perhaps, just now, he simply recognizes the importance of getting Adrian well and truly spent on adoration. He'll never tell, and Adrian has no way of knowing for sure.]
I love you. [It's no more than a whisper of hot breath in Adrian's ear, spilling soft across his throat and heady in the wake of Trevor's kisses.] I didn't mean to worry you today. I fully intended to be back before you woke.
no subject
[He wants this constantly. To just be surrounded by love from the two of them and to give it in return, the world being of no matter at all. His hand reaches up to try and stroke Trevor's cheek, and he manages to move a finger down Trevor's jawline with a careful tenderness that he feels every inch of.
He's doing such a good job of covering Alucard in affection. Alucard hasn't even stopped to wonder why Trevor is this affectionate right now. He just wants more.]
I love you too. [Easy words to say. He feels every inch of them. There's no whispering though. Some words should be said loud and clear.]
Just don't do it again. Please.
no subject
[Which is not at all what Adrian meant, and Trevor knows it, but if he can't be contrary, what else is there for him?
Trevor's hand strays, only briefly -- in the name of contrariness -- before he reminds himself very firmly that he's dedicated to helping Adrian relax tonight. There's always time for more, another night, and with that reminder, his arms wind once more around Adrian's waist.]
Dip your head back, will you? Let me help you out with all that hair.
no subject
Might hold you to it.
[It would calm the anxiety, at the very least. Just as much as Trevor's straying hand offers a threatening but wonderful outlet for letting all of said anxiety out. He sighs when it withdraws, and it's probably better not to go down that path tonight.
Alucard wiggles slightly in Trevor's grasp. It's not easy, dipping his head back. Instead, Alucard pinches his nose and simply dunks all of himself down, being careful to ensure that all of his hair comes with him.
When he surfaces, he's careful to look back at Trevor.]
Better?
no subject
The dhampir keeps his soaps in a convenient and ostentatious silver rack by the side of this tub. Trevor's simply grateful he can reach it without overly disturbing the pile of relaxed dhampir in his lap. He measures out what he deems to be an appropriate amount -- liberal, given the sheer volume of Adrian's hair -- and carefully combs the shampoo through that mass of gold.]
Much.
[And, granted, Trevor isn't always the best judge of signals. He would like to think he knows Adrian well enough by now, that he could tell if this attention were unwelcome, but he's been burned by that assumption two times too many. So even though his hands are both buried in Adrian's hair, his fingers massaging gently at the dhampir's scalp and gingerly pulling the shampoo through, he still mumbles in Adrian's ear:]
Just let me know if you want more. Or less.
[You know I can get overzealous. That's the unspoken implication.]
no subject
So sandalwood fills the room now, and Alucard exhales contently as it does so.]
I will.
[He probably won't, because the minute Trevor's hands meet Alucard's hair, he's gone. Boneless and happy and relaxed. Trevor's plan has already achieved it's goal, and the man has done almost nothing but touch the dhampir's head.
His eyes close, focusing only on the sensation of touch as Trevor's fingers go over and over his scalp. Soothe over spots that still carry stress, make the vampire feel like some weight really has been lifted.]
Lovely.
no subject
He remains diligent to his task, and say what one might about his lineage, he owes his single-mindedness to the Belmonts, if nothing else. It pays off at times. Like when he's patiently and carefully cupping clean water over Adrian's head, gently combing the shampoo from his hair with both hands.
It's one of Trevor's worst-kept secrets, but he's positively enamored with Adrian's scent. This scent, in particular. It plagues him at times. They'll be doing something completely innocuous -- fetching materials from the vault, or taking an evening stroll, or some-such -- and Trevor will catch a hint of it in Adrian's wake and become suddenly undone by the memories of when he's surrounded by it. And the dhampir wonders after Trevor's amorous moods... More often than not, he's driving Trevor mad with no awareness, without even trying.
It's a blissfully long while before Trevor's rinsed all the soap from Adrian's hair. Though a task completed is no permission for the dhampir too slip away. In fact, Trevor winds both arms around Adrian's waist to keep him well and truly present.]
Anything else you'd like me to wash?
[This asked, of course, with an unwholesome smirk.]
no subject
These moments do, and Alucard is so very literally awash in it.
More than that, Alucard is quiet. Still. He lets Trevor work, occasionally stretching out his own arms or legs under the water when the threat of cramps grow. But that is the only movement he makes, until it's time to rinse all that soap out of his hair and Trevor considers the task done.
He's grounded soon after, and Alucard's hands move to sit atop Trevor's. He can't see the smirk, but he suspects it is present.
All the more reason to ignore it.]
No. Just...[He sighs, besotted.] Just this. Please.
no subject
[Moments like this are quietly sacred. They demand nothing -- Adrian demands nothing -- and yet they mean everything. Once upon a time, Trevor questioned it, wondered why this happened, how they came to be like this, and more to the point, what was driving Adrian and Sypha to put up with him in the first place. Not anymore. He's decided to stop grappling with the reasons; their connection, their love, is like the geometry of the stars. If he tried to pick apart the logistics, it would drive him mad. He's happier simply enjoying it for the beauty it is.
And hell if he knows how to talk about his own emotions, but showing them? The hands slowly moving behind Adrian, to carefully work slow circles through his low back? The soft kisses that occasionally land on Adrian's temple or neck? All surer proclamation than words could ever be.]
no subject
[Silence and soft gestures are far easier for the dhampir to respond to, mostly because it is a language that he also speaks. Sypha is a Speaker and words are her domain, but he and Trevor have no such birthrite. It is easier to communicate through touches. Being held and kissed, having the quiet surrounding them and the fact it can be quiet, comfortable, and lovely.
A soft, happy sigh comes in response from Trevor's fingers against Alucard's back. But it is the kisses that make him happiest, and Alucard tries to kiss back. The angle is hard, but every so often, he catches Trevor's lips against his. Just for a moment. And a moment is perfect.]