[ He breathes in when he feels cool breath on his neck, then holds it as Alucard licks. It's only when the teeth pierce skin that he releases it with a long, soft sound. He's still, he's so, so still, but his heart is hammering in his chest with a force that feels bruising. The pulsing of his blood in his ears is the loudest thing in the room, and he can feel as it moves downward.
And he can feel his mind becoming lighter. Not from blood loss, and not from blood relocating to other body parts. But from this, from being something useful and important so effortlessly. He doesn't have to think. He doesn't have to fight. He just has to be here, be here and bleed, and that's enough.
He's enough. And usually he doesn't believe that until at least four drinks in. ]
[Alucard keeps his fangs in for Trevor for a few moments longer than he might otherwise. He wants a deeper wound, because he truly is hungry. When he takes his fangs out, there's a spurt of blood that splashes over his face, and it sticks there.]
I love you too.
[They're soft words, and then Alucard's lips close around the wound. The blood is flowing and the horrible hunger within him demands that he waste no more time with words. He starts to lap up the blood, delighted with the flow. His hand on Trevor's hip shifts, and moves so it it wrapped around his waist instead, holding Trevor close.]
[ He loves him. He already knew that, but it's easy to believe like this. Of course Alucard loves him. He's important. Precious. Needed.
His hands aren't gripping the back of the sofa so tightly anymore. There's no need, not when he can trust Alucard to hold him steady. And he can. He can trust Alucard with anything (except, perhaps, in his more lucid moments, with possessing the restraint not to overwhelm himself). ]
Easier to know that, like this. Makes more sense.
[ He doesn't expect an answer, of course. Not while Alucard's mouth is occupied. He lets his head loll to one side, resting it against Alucard's. Not enough movement to interfere with the feeding, just enough to close whatever gaps are left between them.
Blood has ceased to flow downward, now. Oh, he still feels it. He still wants it. But certain things are not really possible for the human body, and that's one of them. If he were a little more himself right now, he might be grateful for the lack of that particular inconvenience and embarrassment. As things are, it just- is. ]
[The sound is whispered against Trevor's skin. Alucard requests it so he can concentrate, but also so that Trevor doesn't overwhelm himself. This is already so much, and Alucard knows that it might be borderline too much when Trevor's head rests against his.
He can't imagine how this looks like from the outside. All he knows is that oh, oh he's full and he can feel the blood reinforcing all his silly little injuries.
Moreover, he's yet to pick his head up and withdraw from the wound. There's still a trickle left.]
[ He shuts up. He can follow instructions. He's good at following instructions. Good at just being outside of his head, not making any decisions, just letting his body do what it's told.
He's heavy now. So heavy. Heavy and tired and still wanting. Wanting Alucard's lips and tongue to stay against him forever. Wanting to be held more closely. He can't sustain much more. Not without needing more than a few days' rest and some hearty meals to recover. But god, he wants to give more. It feels so, so good to be give.
He hums in contentment, letting his arms slide down from the back of the sofa. It's difficult to move them, but he manages to hang them loosely over Alucard's shoulders. ]
[In time, Alucard lifts his lips from the wound, and that means jostling Trevor's head so that he can reach for the bite kit. He and Sypha have the whole thing down to an exact science of what's needed for what, but--
--Oh. Sypha's never this sleepy. Or heavy. Or lost in herself. So Alucard has to bounce Trevor lightly.]
[ He tries, after a few seconds, and mostly succeeds. He doesn't like it, though, not resting against Alucard's head anymore. Everything feels like it makes less sense once he raises his head. His arms don't pull Alucard closer, for all that they could be closer in the first place, but it's not for lack of trying.
But he's doing what he's told. He's doing what he's told, and that feels good to do. He thinks for a moment, then smirks, glassy-eyed and contented. ]
[Alucard applies a small, damp cloth over the wound once Trevor has done so. He wipes carefully, and there. All the blood is gone now. Then he reaches for the bandages, and on they go. Ever so carefully and--
[ He doesn't back away, though. Doesn't apologise more than once. Doesn't try to do anything dramatic to make up for pushing things further than hee should. Just goes quiet for a moment, watching the bandages, and lets the smirk melt into a smaller, warmer smile. ]
[Alucard carefully kisses the the bandage. Then his hand reaches up, stroking what it can of Trevor's hair. It's impossibly gentle, wanting to just return everything that Trevor has done for him since Carmilla's death.]
You have to look after me, now. I don’t have any blood.
[ It’s amused-sounding, and just a touch childish. Like he’s managed to trick Alucard into being gentle with him, rather than just achieving it in a terribly roundabout way that avoids asking for gentleness. And it’s maybe a little too honest. Not like when he was on the medicine, he’s still mostly present. He’s just- happy, and for once willing to be small and fragile and protected.
[And I've been looking after you a very long time, Alucard does not say. He knows better, and with that, Alucard has to pause to figure out how to best move Trevor into a comfortable position.
All while his hand keeps combing through Trevor's hair.]
Don't worry. There will be no walking. We're just going to settle you down on the sofa, Trevor.
[ Probably for the best that he doesn't say it. It'll be a long time yet before Trevor can communicate that this is the only time he doesn't feel guilty about letting himself be looked after. ]
Yeah. That sounds nice.
[ All of this is nice. Nice and warm and safe. So safe. The slow, constant movement of Alucard's hand through his hair is nearly hypnotising. ]
[Alucard's careful as he shifts Trevor down onto the sofa. He makes sure that all of Trevor is supported by the pillows, that his neck has extra cushioning. It's impossibly soft, but now Alucard? He's at a terribly strange angle and doesn't know how to extricate himself.]
But I'm getting you a blanket first. Is that okay?
[ He has to think about that. Logically, for whatever part of him is operating on logic, he knows that he's going to get cold sooner rather than later lying still after blood loss. But it also means Alucard going. Means the hand in his hair stopping.
He looks up at Alucard, making sure to pull away just a little o they can see each other's faces. So Alucard can see how very serious he is (he just still looks soft and confused, in truth). ]
[And he does. Alucard extracts himself from the sofa so very carefully, and once he's up, he takes one of the thick wool blankets that are draped over the little headboard that has been re-purposed for draping blankets over so they can get warmed.
(He could make a more efficient version of this, Alucard thinks to himself. He'll do it once he's well.)
Alucard comes back, and he makes a point of tucking Trevor in.]
[Alucard's aware that even like this, Trevor has managed to keep in mind the touch rules. It's good. Alucard leans in so that his cheek does brush against Trevor's hand, a quiet acknowledgement of his want and Alucard's ability to give right now.]
[ A little bit a sex thing, but he'll have to work through the emotional shit before it can be that proper. ]
I- shit, I don't know. I don't even know who the fuck that would be, other than shitty company.
[ Who even is he, outside of the context of being a Belmont. Of the church. Of everything that's asked blood from him before and never repaid in care the way that Alucard and Sypha do. Who the fuck is he in peacetime? It wasn't something he had to think about before, not when he could just leave and go to do Belmont things when the question started burning too hot. Maybe in a few more months things will be normal enough that he can start doing that again. But for now he has to think about these things, and he doesn't care for it. ]
You're...I struggled with you for a very long time, Trevor. I can't lie about that. But Sypha loved you because you cared. Because you felt compelled to do right by her, and because you were more than just a family crest. You were someone with your own values, some that aligned with your family's, some that were clearly your own. The things that were your own, those were the things that mattered to me.
The person I see now is someone who's been through so much, and yet maintained dignity and a sense of purpose - a different one than would be expected of him at first, but perhaps a better purpose now.
[ If he wasn’t already basically floored by affection and blood loss right now, that would have done it. He takes his hand from Alucard’s face, turning to lie on his back and bringing his arm over his eyes. It’s a moment before he does anything else, and when he does it’s a chuckle. A soft, slightly heavy one. The kind that’s disguising something else. ]
Shit, Adrian. The fuck am I meant to say to that?
[ Gradually he brings his arm away from his eyes, leaving them exposed and heavy and glassy. ]
I still don’t see it. But I’ll try to figure out what I’ve done to trick you into- all of that. And I’ll do more of it.
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And he can feel his mind becoming lighter. Not from blood loss, and not from blood relocating to other body parts. But from this, from being something useful and important so effortlessly. He doesn't have to think. He doesn't have to fight. He just has to be here, be here and bleed, and that's enough.
He's enough. And usually he doesn't believe that until at least four drinks in. ]
Love you. More than anything.
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I love you too.
[They're soft words, and then Alucard's lips close around the wound. The blood is flowing and the horrible hunger within him demands that he waste no more time with words. He starts to lap up the blood, delighted with the flow. His hand on Trevor's hip shifts, and moves so it it wrapped around his waist instead, holding Trevor close.]
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His hands aren't gripping the back of the sofa so tightly anymore. There's no need, not when he can trust Alucard to hold him steady. And he can. He can trust Alucard with anything (except, perhaps, in his more lucid moments, with possessing the restraint not to overwhelm himself). ]
Easier to know that, like this. Makes more sense.
[ He doesn't expect an answer, of course. Not while Alucard's mouth is occupied. He lets his head loll to one side, resting it against Alucard's. Not enough movement to interfere with the feeding, just enough to close whatever gaps are left between them.
Blood has ceased to flow downward, now. Oh, he still feels it. He still wants it. But certain things are not really possible for the human body, and that's one of them. If he were a little more himself right now, he might be grateful for the lack of that particular inconvenience and embarrassment. As things are, it just- is. ]
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[The sound is whispered against Trevor's skin. Alucard requests it so he can concentrate, but also so that Trevor doesn't overwhelm himself. This is already so much, and Alucard knows that it might be borderline too much when Trevor's head rests against his.
He can't imagine how this looks like from the outside. All he knows is that oh, oh he's full and he can feel the blood reinforcing all his silly little injuries.
Moreover, he's yet to pick his head up and withdraw from the wound. There's still a trickle left.]
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He's heavy now. So heavy. Heavy and tired and still wanting. Wanting Alucard's lips and tongue to stay against him forever. Wanting to be held more closely. He can't sustain much more. Not without needing more than a few days' rest and some hearty meals to recover. But god, he wants to give more. It feels so, so good to be give.
He hums in contentment, letting his arms slide down from the back of the sofa. It's difficult to move them, but he manages to hang them loosely over Alucard's shoulders. ]
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--Oh. Sypha's never this sleepy. Or heavy. Or lost in herself. So Alucard has to bounce Trevor lightly.]
Pick your head up for a moment, please?
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[ He tries, after a few seconds, and mostly succeeds. He doesn't like it, though, not resting against Alucard's head anymore. Everything feels like it makes less sense once he raises his head. His arms don't pull Alucard closer, for all that they could be closer in the first place, but it's not for lack of trying.
But he's doing what he's told. He's doing what he's told, and that feels good to do. He thinks for a moment, then smirks, glassy-eyed and contented. ]
's it good, having me inside of you?
[ He's not too out of it to be a little shit. ]
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--there's a soft laugh.]
Thought we weren't ready for that step yet.
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[ He doesn't back away, though. Doesn't apologise more than once. Doesn't try to do anything dramatic to make up for pushing things further than hee should. Just goes quiet for a moment, watching the bandages, and lets the smirk melt into a smaller, warmer smile. ]
I like it. s'nice. Feels safe.
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[Alucard carefully kisses the the bandage. Then his hand reaches up, stroking what it can of Trevor's hair. It's impossibly gentle, wanting to just return everything that Trevor has done for him since Carmilla's death.]
We should get you off my lap and lay you down.
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[ It’s amused-sounding, and just a touch childish. Like he’s managed to trick Alucard into being gentle with him, rather than just achieving it in a terribly roundabout way that avoids asking for gentleness. And it’s maybe a little too honest. Not like when he was on the medicine, he’s still mostly present. He’s just- happy, and for once willing to be small and fragile and protected.
He leans his head against Alucard’s again. ]
Wherever we’re going, I don’t want to walk.
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[And I've been looking after you a very long time, Alucard does not say. He knows better, and with that, Alucard has to pause to figure out how to best move Trevor into a comfortable position.
All while his hand keeps combing through Trevor's hair.]
Don't worry. There will be no walking. We're just going to settle you down on the sofa, Trevor.
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Yeah. That sounds nice.
[ All of this is nice. Nice and warm and safe. So safe. The slow, constant movement of Alucard's hand through his hair is nearly hypnotising. ]
You'll stay? [ Please? ]
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[Alucard's careful as he shifts Trevor down onto the sofa. He makes sure that all of Trevor is supported by the pillows, that his neck has extra cushioning. It's impossibly soft, but now Alucard? He's at a terribly strange angle and doesn't know how to extricate himself.]
But I'm getting you a blanket first. Is that okay?
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[ He has to think about that. Logically, for whatever part of him is operating on logic, he knows that he's going to get cold sooner rather than later lying still after blood loss. But it also means Alucard going. Means the hand in his hair stopping.
He looks up at Alucard, making sure to pull away just a little o they can see each other's faces. So Alucard can see how very serious he is (he just still looks soft and confused, in truth). ]
You have to come back.
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[And he does. Alucard extracts himself from the sofa so very carefully, and once he's up, he takes one of the thick wool blankets that are draped over the little headboard that has been re-purposed for draping blankets over so they can get warmed.
(He could make a more efficient version of this, Alucard thinks to himself. He'll do it once he's well.)
Alucard comes back, and he makes a point of tucking Trevor in.]
See? Back.
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[ He reaches up, and his arm is so, so heavy. He manages, though, and he curls a lock of Alucard's hair around his finger. ]
It's nice, that I can be part of you. Just a little part of something beautiful.
[ His hand hovers close to Alucard's cheek as the hair slips away from around his finger, but doesn't touch. ]
I'm so fucking lucky.
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[Alucard's aware that even like this, Trevor has managed to keep in mind the touch rules. It's good. Alucard leans in so that his cheek does brush against Trevor's hand, a quiet acknowledgement of his want and Alucard's ability to give right now.]
Being a part of me?
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[ He's soft enough with affection and bloodloss to be able to admit that right now, rather than be as dismissive as he was earlier. ]
Like the drink makes me someone I like better than me. But I'd rather be you than me, but drunk. S'better, that way.
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Alucard sighs, his hand coming to rest over that bandage.]
And if Sypha and I simply like you for you? What then?
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I- shit, I don't know. I don't even know who the fuck that would be, other than shitty company.
[ Who even is he, outside of the context of being a Belmont. Of the church. Of everything that's asked blood from him before and never repaid in care the way that Alucard and Sypha do. Who the fuck is he in peacetime? It wasn't something he had to think about before, not when he could just leave and go to do Belmont things when the question started burning too hot. Maybe in a few more months things will be normal enough that he can start doing that again. But for now he has to think about these things, and he doesn't care for it. ]
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[It's a very dangerous thing they're embarking on here. Alucard knows it. But it seems important to go down that route anyway.]
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If you say something shitty I’m going to tell Sypha you were a dick to me even though I gave you blood.
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I fear her too much to ever do that.
[It's a truth.]
You're...I struggled with you for a very long time, Trevor. I can't lie about that. But Sypha loved you because you cared. Because you felt compelled to do right by her, and because you were more than just a family crest. You were someone with your own values, some that aligned with your family's, some that were clearly your own. The things that were your own, those were the things that mattered to me.
The person I see now is someone who's been through so much, and yet maintained dignity and a sense of purpose - a different one than would be expected of him at first, but perhaps a better purpose now.
I also see someone that I love.
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[ If he wasn’t already basically floored by affection and blood loss right now, that would have done it. He takes his hand from Alucard’s face, turning to lie on his back and bringing his arm over his eyes. It’s a moment before he does anything else, and when he does it’s a chuckle. A soft, slightly heavy one. The kind that’s disguising something else. ]
Shit, Adrian. The fuck am I meant to say to that?
[ Gradually he brings his arm away from his eyes, leaving them exposed and heavy and glassy. ]
I still don’t see it. But I’ll try to figure out what I’ve done to trick you into- all of that. And I’ll do more of it.
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