#{ interaction ;; trevor } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sillyfanatic · 1 year ago

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Opposites attract

Hiiii everyone, happy holidays!!! For those of you who like castlevania, here's some smut <3 Minors DNI i dont want to see anyone under 18 interacting with this fic.

This fic is directly inspired by 'first sip of early spring' by tragic performer on AO3, read it here. (And read it before you read my little fic <3)

p.s; if you're not a part of this fandom and / or don't like smut, no need to interact with this :3

click here to read this fic on ao3!!!! ooooo

(wc; 6313)

Trevor had not been keen on Alucard’s invitation – it wasn’t the proposition itself, nor the person who offered it that uneased him, no, it was something else, it was, it was…

It was because they’d finished their mission, fulfilled their purpose – and was it not supposed to be over, now? Was this partnership – if you could call it that –finished?

Should they be parting ways? Shouldn’t they be?...

He wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to leave – there’d been an itch in his legs for months now, a pulling sensation in his chest that pleaded him to turn tail and run, to be the coward he’d always been.

God, he wanted to.

But now? Now, he felt closer to death than ever before. It was a dreary feeling; an aching in your bones, sharp pains accompanying your every breath. It was sore muscles and the inability to feel your limbs properly, and a question floating in the back of his mind; had living always felt this dreadful? He was not sure he could recall.

There was a dull sensation in his head that’d been there for a while now – an overwhelming tiredness, a mix of despair and exhaustion, the kind you only had the misfortune to feel in that moment after the near-death adrenaline wore off.

It’s why the sight of the guest bedroom was almost enough to make him weep (if he could remember how to do so; he might have let himself.)

There was a bed. It’s all he could focus on now. A bed. The kind of bed fit for a castle, for God’s sake.

“Belmont?” The voice besides him managed to captivate his attention again, and as he turned to his right, he was met with the face of an acquaintance. Those piercing eyes, the kind that lived a life so different from Trevor’s. It sent a chill down his spine – or perhaps, was that the result of all the blood he’d lost?

“Yes?” He found himself replying rathe dryly. Bed, bed, bed, bed. It was the only word spinning around in his mind, an undeniable desire that grew thicker as the seconds passed him by.

It was offered again. “You could stay the night, if you’d like.” The voice was far too quiet and faraway this time.

What happened to leaving? What happened to running away?

Those ideas were far, far away.

And so, he turned to look at the bed again, nodding quietly.

Please. He’d beg if his body allowed him to.

It wasn’t long before he found himself alone, alone in an unfamiliar room, with soft sheets and pillows plusher than he’d ever felt before. There was a small fire whispering in the hearth of the fireplace, and he certainly did not remember the last time he’d felt so warm.

He tumbled into unconsciousness in between blinks, succumbing to the fatigue that wore him down.

Trevor had always been aware of the size of Dracula’s castle, from distant childhood memories to stories spread from one village to another, each re-telling seemingly more dramatic than the last. Seeing it up close had put the stories and rumours to shame, for the castle was much more imposing than words could allow.

It’s black structure – a material he could not identify – extended for miles in every direction, stylistically slashing through the inky sky. Describing it as ‘imposing’ felt like an injustice to its menace. The thing looked alive, ready to swallow any who dared to trespass.

And that was from the outside; the interior was beyond ridiculous. The stylistic choices mirrored those of the outdoors, a black and grey colour scheme with the occasional pop or red and purple, if you looked close enough to find it.

It was pretentious, to say the least.

Much too large for the both of them, Trevor wondered how Dracula had managed to live by himself for so long without going insane (ignoring the fact that he very much did go insane, albeit from different circumstances.)

Empty hallways stretched for miles, forgotten rooms with forgotten functionalities plagued the castle. There were stairways leading to nowhere, and doors that faced a brick wall.

Trevor felt as though this worked in his favour, figured the odd architectural choices, and the sheer massiveness of the place were enough to keep the two of them apart. They wouldn’t have to see each other, and by morning he’d be gone, no goodbyes or lingering glances.

Just a cold exit – his favourite way to go.

It was a fine plan; he could maybe go so far as to say it was a good one. It worked in his favor, he didn’t want the dry conversation Alucard provided, did not care for it.

They weren’t friends. Conversations were for friends, pleasantries and stories were for friends. And they aren’t friends. Nor are they enemies – they are strangers that could no longer be so. Fate had decided to acquaint them, had decided to meddle in their personal lives, and now Trevor was trapped with an obnoxious vampire roaming around in his head when he should be focused on tomorrow, or on anything else, really.

It would come to surprise him, how quickly he’d given into his own exhaustion. It was unlike him to be unconscious in a stranger’s home. Trevor had found himself asleep in strange areas before; fields, dumps, random piles of hay, underneath a tree in the forest- but never in another’s home. He’d not allowed himself to be that vulnerable before.

Not only was he sleeping in someone else’s home tonight, but he was sleeping in fucking Dracula’s castle. He was a vampire’s guest.

If Trevor had not been so exhausted, he would’ve been far from this place. Now, he was unwilling to listen to the instincts that told him never to sleep in a vampire’s home – instincts that were most likely genetic as well as learnt, and ignoring them would surely disappoint his mother.

But she wasn’t here, was she?

And so, against all better judgment, the vampire hunter slept in the nest of the beast, wrapped in satin and surrounded by duck feathers. The smoky smell of the fire lulling the man into a deeper slumber than he’d had in months, or perhaps even years, at this point.

It was a dreamless sleep, the kind of sleep where your body melts into the mattress, where consciousness feels like a concept you’d only briefly known, a long, long, time ago.

And like all the good things in a Belmont’s life, it was over much too soon.

“You’re awake.” The remark was quiet.

He should’ve jumped, shouted, reacted in any alarming way, like a normal person would be. He should’ve been scared at the suddenness of the other’s presence – but he could not find it in himself to do so.

“Do you always watch your guests sleep?” He replied tiredly, opening his eyes to stare at the source of the disturbance in the room.

And there he was, in all his glory, leaning so effortlessly against the wall of the bedroom. Simply existing, and yet Trevor felt his blood beginning to boil as he rose from his sleeping form, letting the sheets tumble away from his bare chest.

He was unusually warm, he noted, though he only bore his trousers from the other day. A quick glance to the fireplace showed a bright flame dancing in the silence, one that had been nurtured in his sleep.

“Not always.” Alucard replied, unmoving. The hunter could not decipher if this was meant to be humour or not – it was rare that the half-vampire allowed his façade to slip enough to make pleasantries.

A silence settled between them as Trevor stood reluctantly, stretching the muscles that ached in the aftermath of yesterday’s combat, and of the weeks of travel preceding it.

And then he noted something truly odd – apart from the orange glow of the fire, the room was plunged in darkness, a moonless night staring down at him from upon the large windows.

And as if he could read minds (Trevor had yet to fact-check this about vampires), Adrian spoke again; “You were asleep for three days, you know?”

The man turned towards the other then, observing him with furrowed brows.

“What?” He questioned, feeling a sense of overwhelming disorganization flooding his mind.

Alucard was the opposite of this, calm as he spoke; “It’s been three days since we’ve last spoken.” It was said as though it was obvious, or common, to which it was neither. It didn’t feel like he slept for that long, given how tired he still was, and it sure as hell wasn’t a weekly occurrence. “You’ve slept for a long time.” The half-vampire remarked casually as he pushed himself off the wall, approaching his guest with soft steps.

There was a certain familiarity in this closeness they now shared, a warmth that the Belmont dismissed as something else entirely.

“Why did you let me stay?” He mumbled, crossing his arms against his bare chest. The gesture made Adrien’s eyes flicker downwards, a small smile appearing on his pale face.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t think of me as cruel, would you?” He spoke coyly, tilting his head to the side in a manner that was far too endearing.

“Hmph.” Trevor squinted, unamused.

Alucard simply huffed a small laugh, patting the other’s cheek with his hand.

“Come now, I’ve made dinner.” He spoke, turning on his heels to head outside of the door.

Trevor did not follow, eyeing the other man as he stood still.

He was supposed to be far away by now, getting drunk in the tavern of a nearby village and running his mouth off, not here, half naked, being invited to dine with someone he’d really rather never speak to again.

“What, not hungry?” Adrian teased from the open door, that sly smile sneaking itself onto his pale features once again. Trevor’s stomach felt fuzzy at the sight – perhaps he was beginning to feel dizziness from his hunger.

With a sigh, and against his better judgment, he relented. Not bothering to dress himself, he followed the other. The castle wasn’t any less confusing, in fact, it seemed a little more like a maze now that he had slept for much too long.

They walked in silence, the stone floor cooling against his feet – it helped ground him, if only slightly.

The hunter could almost hear the complaints of his ancestry, could practically feel the shame that paired well with his parent’s angry remarks and disappointed looks.

He ignored it.

It was fine – he’d been a disgrace to the family name for a long time now, what did having dinner with a vampire worsen?

He’d expected to be led to some sort of grand dining hall, the kind that has a table so long that you can barely discern the edge of it from one side to the next.

But Alucard did not bring him to such a place, instead, they found themselves in a small room lined with large windows, a round wooden table in its middle with two chairs to accompany it. There was a fireplace in this room too, one that had already been lit, its flames painting the room in a living light that waltzed ever so slowly.

There was a desk as well, and a small bookshelf, all wooden. There were paintings on the walls and a few empty pots where he imagined plants had once lived.

It all felt much too alive.

“My mother’s favourite place to eat breakfast. She despised the dining room, always spoke of how cold and lifeless it felt to her.” Trevor fought back against a snappy retort, something along the lines of ‘finally, someone in this family who makes sense’. It was best to leave it unspoken, to spare himself from the death glare that would’ve surely killed him, should he have given in. “She would eat here whenever it was possible for her to do so – I used to join her in the mornings.” Adrian spoke as he sat on one of the two chairs, moving a few plates around the table. He did not speak of his mother often, and when he did, his tone seemed so quiet, so soft. As if the memories were so fragile that speaking of them loudly might shatter them.

The half vampire shed his coat, revealing a simple white chemise underneath, one that billowed so ornately around him that Trevor had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the sight. He bit his tongue again, sitting down on the free chair.

Wine was poured in their glasses, and Trevor was silently thanking the gods for the alcohol, taking a generous swig before replying to the other.

“Your mother had excellent taste in furniture.” He spoke, uncertain of what to say. Adrian simply nodded at this, handing him a plate of what looked like salad.

“Yes, now shut up and eat.” And there it was, a familiar tone. One of general annoyance, a feeling Trevor seemed to invoke a lot – which only made him wonder why he’d been invited to such a seemingly private thing.

Too hungry to object, Trevor put himself to use, devouring anything that seemed edible enough – and by God, it was a lot more than he’d thought. The spread was generous, from familiar meals to exciting new ones, each dish cooked to perfection. There were meats cooked in thick sauces, vegetables that were seemingly fried, and yet tasted so light it almost made him choke.

Dinner was spent in a quiet silence, one that wasn’t necessarily awkward, but not exactly welcomed either. Adrian poked at plates here and there, naturally less hungry than Trevor – one of them hadn’t eaten for over three days and it really showed.

With every plate, the wine seemed to taste sweeter, and before he knew it, the familiar buzz of alcohol had crept underneath his skin, rendering him fuzzy and content.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Trevor spat out as he poked at some peas in his plate, too full to conceptualize eating any more.

“Is that your way of thanking me?” Alucard replied, his hands woven beneath his chin. He looked so calm here in the low light, his skin gaining a warmth in the orange glow of the fire.

“I suppose.” He mumbled, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“You’re welcome.” The vampire replied, pausing to take a small sip of wine. And then, a silence again, until Adrian decides to fill it; “You learn to cook when you’re alone for a while.” It’s accompanied by a little shrug of his shoulders, which makes the fabric of his blouse sway in a mesmerizing, yet very pretentious way.

Trevor almost laughs here, a smile cracking his wine-stained lips. “Not necessarily – I can’t cook for shit.” He confesses, leaning back in his chair. The heaviness of the meal and the sweetness of the wine was beginning to tire him, and despite the three days of uninterrupted sleep, he felt himself yawning.

“Hm. Why does that not surprise me?” The other retorts, a matching grin lining his features. It’s surely an insult, but he says it so elegantly that its rudeness is almost completely lost. Still, Trevor allows himself to roll his eyes at this, the fuzziness of the wine rendering him more content than he’d be comfortable with, should he be sober.

There’s no good retort here, he knows he’s lost the battle, and he accepts it. Alucard just cooked them both an excellent meal, where Trevor would’ve burnt himself trying to get a fire started.

“You’re welcomed to stay the night again, if you wish.” The man before him offers then, so casually, inconsequentially. As if they knew each other. As if one wasn’t a hunter, and the other wasn’t the prey. (If asked, they’d both claim to be the hunter.)

Trevor did not respond immediately, letting the sentence float in between them as he pondered it.

On one hand, he was three days overdue – he needed to be gone two nights ago, and yet he was still lingering.

On the other hand, perhaps it would be wise to stay. He was still exhausted, and he was now a little tipsy as well – those weren’t ideal conditions in setting out for a voyage, now, were they?

He did not wish to be here much longer, but here there was a bed, and a warm fire, and one more night wouldn’t be the end of him, would it?

He nodded curtly, an acceptance of the invitation that’d been so kindly extended upon him.

If he’d come to regret it, he was not sure, but he knew it fit him in the moment. He’d made the final decision, the consequences (should there be any) would be a problem for another day.

And so, their conversation fizzled out – before long, Trevor had finished his wine, and Adrian was beginning to gather up the dirty plates – he didn’t ask for help, and Trevor did not offer it either. They simply parted ways, wordlessly.

Like strangers.

For a second – technically fourth – time, the vampire hunter slept in the night creature’s home.

They had developed a slight routine. They ate together once a day, nothing as lavish as that first time, but equally as delicious. Trevor spent some of his time hunting for wildlife outside the castle grounds, bringing with him anything he’d caught. Adrian would usually cook whatever he had slain, and they ate it together by firelight.

Words were rarely exchanged, as if sound would rupture the odd system they had going for them.

Every night, Trevor would convince himself to leave for the next morning. He ran the plans in his head as he lay; he would head to the east, find the nearest town or village, not stopping his journey until he found it. From there it’d be odd jobs and favours, wandering semi-aimlessly until he found his purpose, or his purpose found him.

And yet, every night, the soft bed and the warm meals kept him around, kept him comfortable and warm, cared for in a way he’d never been.

In his empty moments, he would search the castle, unable to resist the vast knowledge at his fingertips – for centuries, his ancestors had longed to be in Dracula’s castle, dedicating lifetimes to locating it, and yet… And yet, here he was, so casually residing in it, with all the technology the Belmonts had sought to study, to destroy.

Who would’ve thought that it would end up like this? The last of generations, alienated and uneducated, trying his best to fulfill a destiny he did not belong to.

If he was going to stay here for a little while, might as well try to, right?

As he familiarized himself with the castle, there was one room he avoided like the plague, not daring to venture into it. It was Adrian’s bedroom, of which the door was always closed shut. He hadn’t gotten so much as a peak inside, and he was not planning to. It’s not like he was afraid of Adrian or anything of the sort, no, it was something different… it seemed as though it was not for any reason in particular, like he could not put his finger on it, on why the sheer thought of opening that door turned him away – but it did.

As the days passed him by, his sleep had returned to something akin to normalcy. ‘Normalcy’, in this case, meant that Trevor was back to no longer sleeping well – no matter the comfort of the bed. Still, it was considerably more sleep than he’d get out there, but it wasn’t good by any means or standards.

Tonight, it irked him in particular as he tossed and turned within the sheets, the sheets whose softness was becoming unreasonably unbearable, a pleasant sensation turned sour for no apparent reason. His sleepwear this night consisted of a pair of old shorts and nothing more, and yet, his body seemed to burn with an unknown heat, one that made him too restless to sleep.

The fire in his hearth had gone out long ago, and the sun was beginning to rise somewhere in the distance, but as much as his body ached for it, it could not find sleep, could not find relief.

Pent up, and warm beyond belief, Trevor huffed an annoyed sigh before giving up on trying to sleep. Annoyed, he stood, throwing on a random white chemise from the closet on the guest room – of his room.

Exhausted, he began walking, trying to entertain his body with something, anything. Perhaps walking would be enough to make his subconscious realize that he needed rest, not restlessness. As he roamed the castle, he found himself walking a familiar path around the home, down corridors and up a few flights of stairs, taking specific turns, movements that worked on muscle memory alone.

It wasn’t long before he found himself in the small dining nook, the most familiar room in the entire manor. (And perhaps, it was beginning to be his favourite, but he had yet to admit this to himself wuite yet.)

It was rare to see it in this setting; it was dim, the light of dawn softly illuminating it as the sun rose to greet them. It was a beautiful sight, but he was perhaps too drained to enjoy it. Instead, he went straight for the small cabinet where the wine was stored, hastily uncorking a bottle for himself. He stared at the uncorked bottle for a moment, the habit of drinking himself to sleep was pushing him to just do it, do drink it now.

Reluctantly, he put the bottle down, grabbing a glass from the desk and the other end of the room, a desk that had come to serve as more of a surface for Adrian’s wine glasses. Adrian, who was the reason Trevor grabbed himself a glass in the first place – he knew his host would be very displeased if he were to drink straight from the bottle. He’d done it a few times before and had earnt himself a few lectures because of it – a result he was not intent in re-living.

When had he come to know the other so well?

He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the exhaustion that clawed as his brain, the familiar feeling of despair that often clung to him on sleepless nights, on sleepless days.

The wine was quickly poured into the glass, where it did not stay for long. The alcohol was too sour for his taste, but he did not care enough to stop drinking, feeling the familiar burning sensation that had carried him through a thousand nights before this one.

Old habits died hard, and if he wasn’t the living proof, no one else was.

“Couldn’t sleep?” A voice behind him spoke, and he was far too used to the way Alucard appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The sudden presence did not illicit a reaction, merely a soft sigh of acknowledgment on his part.

“How’d you ever guess.” He spoke tiredly, voice practically dripping in sarcasm as he lulled his head to observe the other. “Care for some?” He lifted the bottle as he spoke, and Adrian nodded, grabbing a glass and pulling his chair up to face the Belmont. His glass was quickly filled, and they were soon drinking in silence, a silence that had come to be very comfortable, too comfortable.

The man before him was wearing an odd outfit for this time of day; pleated black pants and a ruffled chemise that matched the colour of their drink, the colour of which made it seem like his skin glowed in the low light.

“You know, I have no fucking idea why I’m still here.” Trevor spoke with the honesty of someone who’d already had half the bottle. It’s not like he had anything to lose, anyway. “You know, I really hated you. I wanted to leave, as soon as I was done with everything.” But it wasn’t true, and he knew it. He’d never hated the other. He’d yearned to, felt obligated to, in a sense. “I really wanted to hate you.” He took a generous sip and topped his cup off – this was far stronger than the other red wines he’d gotten used to, and he could feel its effect a little too well.

“I never would’ve guessed; you only declared it every five minutes.” Alucard remarked, smiling from behind his wine glass. And Trevor huffed at this, too tired to muster a real laugh.

“Then why the fuck isn’t it true? Why can’t I hate you?” His heart was beating a little faster than usual, and confessions were slipping from his tongue much too easily. “Your ancestors killed mine and vice versa, and yet here I still am, getting hammered on your wine. It’s laughable.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer.” Adrian crossed his legs, legs that were so long and slim in comparison to Trevor’s. Legs that were always hidden away beneath fabric, skin that was so hard to see.

They both took another sip as the man’s gaze squinted.

“The real question is, why haven’t you chased me out of here? The Alucard I met a few months ago would’ve never let a thing like me live within his walls for so long.” His words were beginning to drag on a bit, the alcohol heavy on his tongue.

Adrian shook his shoulders tiredly. “I’m not sure.” Another sip, and was it just Trevor, or did the other’s cheeks tint a bit rosier? It was hard to tell in this lighting. “Perhaps I’m lonelier than I’d like to admit.” A smile accompanied the sentence, but it was a small one, a sad one. Trevor could not muster the energy to ignore the flutter in his chest.

“Lonely, huh?” He threw back, downing the rest of his wine. “I have trouble seeing that.”

Alucard laughed at the statement; it was a rare sound, one so full of mirth that the Belmont could not help but smile at it.

“It’s that hard to believe?” The half-vampire asked then, leaning his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Yes, quite.” Trevor crossed his arms, a gesture meant to convey seriousness, that he was not joking. “Me, lonely, that’s logical. You? I think you’re lying.” He accused now, to which the half vampire feigned offense.

“Why is it so hard to believe, Belmont?” He pried, furrowing his eyebrows in what seemed to be an invitation.

And Trevor was drunk enough to say something very regrettable; “Because I believe that should you ask anybody; they would be glad to indulge you in anything.”

“Anybody, huh?” Down went the rest of the wine, his glass now discarded onto the table, besides Trevor’s.

“Anybody.” Trevor confirmed.

“Anything.”

“Anything you desired.”

The half vampire ran a pale hand through his golden locks, letting a thick silence reign over them for a second or two. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before – and why was Trevor’s heart beating so fast?

“You’re clueless, aren’t you?” Adrian spoke after a bit, tilting his head to the side in that way that drove Trevor insane.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He shook his shoulders, too lost in his contentment to think about the other’s statement.

The other, who stood so suddenly, tossing his chair aside. The other, who offered a hand, and when it was taken, guided the hunter. They walked away from the breakfast nook, from the open wine and the dirtied glassed, down an unfamiliar path – or perhaps it was recognizable, but not in the state Trevor was in.

He was so at ease, Adrian’s hand fit nicely around his; it was slimer, and colder, but it was comfortable in a strangely beautiful way. They went up a staircase, maintaining a fairly quick pace – they took a right into a hallway, and a few doors down to their destination.

Trevor was shoved into the room before he could begin to protest, or to realize where he was. He stood in a rather modest bedroom, an unfamiliar one – it was the only room in the castle he had not yet been to.

“This is-“

“My room.” He finished the sentence with impatience. The curtains were drawn and there was a dying fire in his hearth, but there was enough light to show the slight tint on Adrian’s, the flush of alcohol that rendered him so much more attractive than before and – when had Trevor come to think of the other as attractive?

“Why are we..?” He began to question, his head several steps behind.

“Because I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me since the day I invited you to stay, and I cannot go another second without it if you keep looking at me the way you do. You said I could get anyone to do as I desired? Well, I’m asking you now to indulge me so that I can finally sleep at night.” The words were spoken hastily, so hushed they could’ve almost been misheard.

Almost.

Trevor could not deny the effect the confession had on him; he felt his blood rush south at the thought of it.

He’d expected a realization like this to feel like planets crashing, systems colliding inside his mind, but it didn’t. It was a gentle snap, two pieces of a puzzle clicking together in a manner that could only be described as gratifying. He felt warm as a smirk settled on his face. “I thought you’d never ask.” He did not linger then, unceremoniously joining their lips together in a kiss that tasted of aged berries and desperation.

And it made too much sense, the way his heart tried to beat its way out of its cage, the way his blood buzzed in something entirely different than the wine.

Alucard’s mouth was too eager to part for his as they stumbled upon the bed. The kiss was only momentarily interrupted as the half vampire let himself fall into the mattress’ embrace, Trevor in toe.

They weren’t apart for very long before Trevor was marking the other’s neck, biting and sucking anywhere he could reach, leaving traces dark enough to pierce through the dim lighting.

The hunter was soon unbuttoning the others’ blouse, stripping himself of his chemise as well. Fingers roamed across pale skin, eyes committing every juncture to memory.

The way the vampire was half propped up on his elbows, long hair cascading down bare shoulders – it drove him absolutely mad, a madness he was barely aware he’d been containing.

“Why on earth would you ever hide such a thing.” The Belmont spoke, mesmerized.

Adrian’s eyes were dark and half-lidded, and Trevor did not need much more to continue.

Trevor was speaking more than he usually did in situations like these, but he could not keep the words from falling off his tongue, sugary sweet confessions that surprised them both. “I tried to hate you; I had no idea it didn’t work because of this.” Pants came off very quickly after that, leaving them both unveiled, intoxicated not only by the wine that flowed through their veins, but from the tension that rose between them.

“Stop talking.” Adrian hissed, firmly grabbing the other’s chin to bring him down again, leaving hungry kisses on his lips.

In between heavy breaths, Trevor spoke; “Tell me what you want from me, and I will deliver it.” It was a promise, an oath to stop talking, should his mouth be put to good use. He sealed the words by leaving marks on the other’s jawline, relishing in the little hisses that came of it.

“I want you to be inside of me, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.” A request he couldn’t wait to oblige. Before he could do so, however, he felt a soft hand on the back of his head, fisting his hair. His head was easily lifted then, eyes forced to meet the other’s. There was a hint of malice there, a dark glimmer in Adrian’s eyes he could not ignore. Everything about this was so wrong; he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. There was no kindness in the other’s eyes when he spoke again, instead, the words resounded in Trevor’s ears like a threat. “Do not make me beg.”

And the hunter could do nothing but oblige, putty in his prey’s gaze. He ran a thumb between his lover’s folds, gathering the wetness to cover his shaft. It was sinful, to use another’s arousal as lubrication for penetration, it was sinful and enticing, pulling him further down a path with no return.

There was no preparation beyond that, they were much too far gone for it.

As Trevor sheathed himself within the other, he made sure to be as gentle as possible, savouring every inch that was taken. “Fuck.” He groaned beneath his breath as the feeling of Adrian’s walls hugged him so tightly, he could barely hold onto logic anymore. Perhaps he’d be the one to forget his own name.

“Ah-“ It was a small intake of air, barely a moan, but it managed to make him even harder than he already was. The half vampire threw his head back as Trevor was fully situated, taking a few audible breaths before meeting his gaze again.

Slowly, he began to thrust, baring his cock to slide it in again as gently as possible. When his lover began to grow restless, he upped the tempo, setting a steady rhythm.

And by God, it felt damnable how wet Alucard was, the sound of his arousal resonating lewdly in their ears with every thrust.

“Jesus, I’ve wondered what was beneath all those layers for so long.” He grunted, setting the pace to something somewhat regular.

“Hm?” Came a small noise from the person below him, whose elbows were getting too weak to hold them up – and so they fell to the mattress, their back arching gracefully as they did so.

It was a sight to behold, smooth skin that seemed to run for miles, a lithe body that was moving for him, in response to him, and only for his eyes to see. He’d declare the scene heavenly if it weren’t for the raunchiness of it, because by God, Trevor had never laid eyes on anything as gorgeous as this.

A lifetime of travel could not reveal such beauty, it was only found here, in his lover’s dips and curves, in the way his eyes rolled back, in every shaky breath, every silent gasp.

“Too modest for someone as pretty- shit- as you.” He struggled to keep his sentences focused, words slurring in a mix of intoxication and lust.

Adrian keened at the compliment, and Trevor took it as a sign to pleasure him harder, better – he quickened the pace a little more, hooking Adrian’s left leg over the crease of his elbow, almost lifting his partner to give a deeper angle.

The other’s breaths quickened, his chest moving up and down quickly as he struggled to contain the pleasure that rang throughout him.

Such a beautiful sight, watching his cock get lost in the vampire’s folds again and again, its tip prodding his belly with every deep thrust – Trevor could not tear his gaze away if we wanted to.

“Aaah- Belmont, you-“ They could not be considered conscious any longer, no, they’d stumbled into another state of being at this point.

“What is it- mm- Adrian?” The mention of his name made him whimper, his body writhing in pleasure.

“More.” He demanded, and so Trevor obliged.

With his loose arm, the trained killer brough his hand to rub circles around the other’s clitoris. It was by no means elegant or methodical, but it made the vampire react in such a delightful way, his walls clenching tightly around the shaft that penetrated him.

“Hng-“ The moans were becoming more and more frequent, sweet sounds that his ears drank up so greedily, trying desperately to commit them to memory. They’d be all he’d think about for weeks, this, he was certain of.

“You’re, fuck, sofuckinghandsome” The words tumbled out of his mouth without rhyme or reason. He pushed harder, bending the body beneath him to better reach the inside of his lover, to nestle himself deeply, in a desire to never be anywhere else but here.

With a glistening chest and the firm squeeze of his eyes, Adrian’s body seized in the throes of pleasure, wave after wave of shock coursing through his sensitive nerves. It was done rather quietly, and yet it made the scene all-the-more ethereal, like having watched something so rare that it only came once in a lifetime – to those who were lucky enough to get it.

And lucky felt like an under-statement as Trevor relished in the feeling of his lover’s orgasm, coming undone in tandem with him. He felt the pleasure crawling up and down his spine, relishing in the sight of the bump he left in Adrian’s stomach.

They stayed still for a moment or two before Trevor decided to move, pulling out of the vampire, leaving a trail behind the action. Lazily, the hunter took his thumb to the opening, gathering any liquid that had escaped and pumping it back inside of him.

Adrian was back on his elbows now, observing the gesture and shivering in sensitivity.

The two locked eyes, the exhaustion and elation of love-making heavy in their gaze, unspoken sentences staying in their minds. It was that comfortable kind of quiet again, the one that meant a lot more to them now.

They weren’t really strangers anymore.

A/N

>happy holidays... i love queer people so much. thats all.

>if you like this work i am So sorry but i have published nothing similar LMAO i doubt anyone will read this since its so outside of my norm. sonadow fans ill write some good stuff for you guys now that i've finished this <333

#my fics #myr writes #my writing #castlevania #trevor belmont #alucard #adrian tepes #trevor x alucard #alucard x trevor #if yer under 18 and interact with this im blocking you

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