#hehehe the boys are crushinggggg

[beevean]

Draactor prompt: Dracula hearing each of his boys' hearts skip a beat for him for the first time. ❤

Dracula not bullying Isaac? In my Beev fic??? what happened to modern society

~

Even when he was a human, Dracula would have been able to read Isaac like an open book.

The boy did not have a concept of hiding his thoughts or feelings, and his body was out of his control, with how easily he roused to anger or joy. More often than not, Dracula was almost sure he could hear his thoughts bouncing under that flaming hair of his, Still, that was fine for him. Isaac was young, there was time to teach him some discipline: he could draw comfort from the fact that he couldn’t have any doubts about Isaac’s loyalty, which was essential for a servant in training.

The boy was driven by pure, primal passion that scalded his blood. In normal circumstances, Dracula looked down on people unable to control their basic instincts, humans or vampires as they were. However, Isaac threw himself into any task, whether it was chipping gems to perfect polish or learning how to read Latin, with the same amount of determination – and, not hard to guess, eagerness to please his Lord, which made him content.

Now, if only he could channel said passion into a more useful concentration.

“You forgot a couple of words. It’s ‘immaculate being, appear before me now’,” Dracula corrected his student, after a failed summoning. The gangly boy was standing as straight as a rod, but his thumping heart belied his lingering shock. “You must be less hasty, Isaac, and ponder about the blasphemy you are committing. Otherwise, the energy you are drawing from Hell might retort against you. Let me see your wound…”

He had to bit his tongue to curb his urges at the smell of the young sorcerer’s blood, flowing in rivulets from a cut on the hand, that the boy was cradling close to his chest. He had promised that he would only allow Isaac to “pay” once a month, with proper equipment, and he was not one to betray a promise, even more so because Isaac has been nothing but docile and obedient.

(The boy even had the worrying tendency to dart his eyes towards Dracula, in particular his mouth, during the procedure. He was still a human at heart, and as such reasonably frightened of him. That wouldn’t do: Dracula needed Isaac to trust him with his life.)

Therefore, it was with all the gentleness he could muster that he lifted Isaac’s hand to examine it up close – and then he heard it.

Ba-dump.

The poor boy was outright flustered, with cheeks matching his hair, eyes as wide as a fae’s, and fidgeting in discomfort. Ah, but it wasn’t discomfort, per se: they were the tell-tale signs of a childish infatuation.

Dracula smiled.

“Mmh. Nothing that your Fairy won’t be able to heal without a trace. Very well, Isaac, you may leave for today, but remember my words.”

“Y-yes, my Lord!” chirped Isaac with a cracked voice, before bowing so deeply his nose nearly touched the ground and scuttling away.

The heat of his skin still lingered on Dracula’s: he rubbed it away.

What an interesting development.

Perhaps the time to teach Isaac some discipline had come earlier than expected. It would be unbecoming to indulge in the whims of a growing boy, even if he didn’t have a family. Deep inside, however, he could not deny that he found it quite endearing; oh, the way Isaac looked up to him, with stars in his eyes, like he was his entire world! Which he was, so he could understand where those feelings budded from.

During his tutelage, Isaac would be moved by something more intense than loyalty. It suited Dracula just fine.

The new boy brimmed with raw talent, ready to be molded under Dracula’s hands. He would keep a vigil eye on him.

Hector was everything Isaac wasn’t. Any passion his younger student might have had was most plainly beaten out of him, leaving him a frightened mouse in the den of lions, afraid of so much as breathing too loudly. His little heart did not beat any faster, but the way he hid inside himself spoke for him.

It was only due the pitch-black taste of his blood that Dracula took pity on him. Never shall anyone accuse him of not having infinite mercy towards the rejected.

It turned out that he had made the right call, because when left to his own devices, Hector showed an impressive intellect. He was already well-read in the matters of alchemy, although he refused to explain whence his knowledge came from, and he took to Devil Forging like a fish to swimming, blazing through his creations at a much faster pace than Isaac did at his age. The other boy plastered on a smile whenever Hector achieved a new accomplishment, but he could only fool his friend, not Dracula.

Well, anything that might incentivize him to work harder. He was starting to slack behind. Perhaps some more pressure would help.

Hector may be lacking in words, but he listened to Dracula with intent and seriousness, and he never forced him to repeat himself twice. More often than not, he found himself not knowing how to correct the boy, which left him at lost – even his own dear Adrian struggled with the matters of shapeshifting.

“The detail of its feathers is astounding,” he found himself commenting, while he circled around a bird of Hector’s making. The boy was boring holes in the floor with his stare, but Dracula knew that he was absorbing every word that came out of his mouth, and he was proud. “The material is sturdy, yet malleable. The wingspan is large enough that it might even be able to lift you. Was that your intent?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Hector replied in a tiny but steady voice. “It can’t fly yet, but I’m working on it.”

And Dracula had no doubt that he would succeed.

His approving smile was returned with a timid one from Hector. He truly was a cute boy, with glistening curls that spoke of the curse he was born with and delectable sinful blood, the smell of which was hard to ignore even when not wounded. Dracula didn't resist the impulse of tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Ba-dump.

Ah.

That was awkward, to say the least.

Dracula was taken aback. He hadn’t been able to read the boy properly. Hector was too closed off, too talented even in hiding. Now the boy was chewing his lip, pale eyes avoiding him, and Dracula was burdened with a problem that was only inconvenient.

What could he do, other than dismiss him and being left with the sensation of the boy’s hair brushing on his fingers?

Not that he wasn’t flattered, of course. Hector didn't vibrate with emotion like his friend, but it still radiated from him, warm and intense and so painfully earnest. The boy begged for love with all but his words; how could not he grow attached to the only one who gave it to him? Dracula was pleased with himself for earning Hector’s trust, which he figured was not an easy feat.

Still. Dealing with one boy’s improper feelings was one matter, but both of them? It would be troublesome.

Dracula rubbed his temples, lost in thought. They were young, easy prey to emotions, and already competing against each other. They would fight for their Lord, to prove themselves superior to the other and worth of his undivided attention.

However, they were also both intelligent, and most importantly ready to please. In the best-case scenario, it would push them to strive their best each day. Both of them wanted and needed him: he was important to them like water to stranded travelers. Therefore, perhaps ignoring their infatuations would be disadvantageous? Could he, instead, nurture them and allow them to blossom?

The memory of Isaac’s heat and Hector’s smile stirred an emotion with no name in his chest.

Yes, Dracula smiled to himself, a healthy rivalry would allow the boys to grow, whether in study or love. And to the victor… well, he would have to decide the prize.