Hellsing Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond Mortal Blood ❯ You're an Ironing Board! ( Chapter 13 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Hello loyal readers! :D I’m happy to yet again present you with another installment of Beyond Mortal Blood. ^^ We’re terribly pleased with all the reviews we’ve gotten, and we’d like to say before we begin we couldn’t have better fans. Now, since neither of us has any notes, other than the normal apologies for OoCness (^^;), we’ll continue!

PLEASE READ, ENJOY, AND REVIEW! :D

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The drive to Lebende Tote was out of the way of everything. It was located towards the farthest reaches of Tokyo, and as Aya parked along the street curb, the blinding brightness of the sun had dimmed to a molten gold, a great deal easier on the eyes. Leaving his coat upon the seat, he twisted the keys from the ignition and deftly slipped out of the car. His movements were fluid, a cat-like grace in his steps as he neared the door. He paused upon the last step, hands reaching up to clasp the buckle about his neck to hide from plain view the evidence upon his throat. He turned, glancing at Alucard before he lightly pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The first stench to assail his nostrils was that of sex, and then smoke and alcohol permeated his body. A man at the front turned to him, eyes widening in an appreciative gaze.
"Welcome to Lebende Tote. I've never seen you around here before," he murmured, grinning toothily, and then he turned his gaze to Alucard.
"Or you for that matter. Both of you, welcome and I hope that you enjoy yourselves thoroughly." The faintest touch of a smirk touched Aya's lips.
"We will," he answered, mouth hardly working as he spoke the words in a smooth repose. The baritone that slipped from his lips tantalized with seduction, almost making it appear that when Aya dressed in such an outfit he had a natural proclivity to becoming utterly rape-worthy, not that he didn't already have that seductive air on a normal day but it was now especially emphasized.
Aya slipped past him, entering into the wide room of the club. A collection of people were found there, Aya observed. Many were dancing to the erotic music that blared upon the speakers, and immediately he noticed that it was not Japanese but instead English music playing. That did not serve as much of a clue, for the unimportant cults Manx mentioned might also play such things. As the violet gaze drifted around, he noticed several shooting themselves up with syringes, filled with drugs of sorts. Further observation found couples embracing and even screwing against the walls. Making his way towards the bar, he sat down upon a stool, violet gaze moving left to right as he spotted figures huddled over their drinks, eyes bloodshot. So far, he could yet to tell the difference between mortal and FREAK when their mouths weren't hanging open, and the terrible lighting of the room did nothing to help the fact - maybe Alucard would have better luck with that. His attention was pulled away as the bartender paused in front of him, head cocked to the side as he asked what Aya would like.
"Nothing," the redhead replied, but the man merely shook his head.
"I assure you, you'll want some of what we've got. It's the finest in any club around, and it'll numb pain like nothing you've ever felt before." Aya placed his head against he head, tilting it slightly.
"Really?" he inquired, faintly intrigued. "If you insist. Give me the strongest thing you've got."
The man smiled, "Nice choice. You look like the kind of guy that needs hard liquor in a place like this. Drugs work well, but not well enough."
A drink was placed before, and he picked it up, nodding his thanks as he turned away from the bar - glass in hand - back resting against counter. A place that needed drugs and alcohol to numb pain, huh? That sounded suspicious.

The Vampire observed the area with an air of disgust, his mouth set in a bit of a frown, though he managed to retain the open, accepting aura about him, thought it was the complete opposite. He in fact, felt nothing but intense malice toward the FREAKs, and found their existence despicable. Sauntering about the club, Alucard observed the destructive and self-destructive habits that the young people were taking part in–was it merely because they were immortal? Did they feel as if, now that they would supposedly live forever, they were free to be complete morons? How absolutely atrocious. The Vampire felt awful that he were supposedly grouped with such beings. How could they consider themselves Nosferatu, with their drugs and liquor and such. They did not take advantage of any thing that they had gained, and instead chose to abuse it. The thought to him was nearly infuriating, and as he felt his blood rush with a hot rage, he soon managed to calm it, leash and reign it in, as it could not be properly utilized within the moment.
And as he skulked, the Vampire found himself appreciating the loud, pulsing beat of the music, though it was not his style, and though the lighting was absolutely horrid–erratic and capable of inducing a seizure–it was not a problem as he could see as if it were daylight. He could tell they were FREAKs by the parched, hungry look in their eyes, and the bags about them not caused by being drunk, or tired, but by being one of the Undead. The lines that signified a type of worn ache, one that was a telling sign of a lust for blood. Even if they were synthetic, there were still similar things between them, bloodlust being one of those traits. Though, Alucard was not proud of it, he in fact preferred if they would simply decompose into the dust they deserved to be. He turned and spotted Aya at the bar–with a drink. Hmm, the punk was deciding to drink after all? Well, at least Manx would be pleased to win her bet. He strolled over to the young man, shoulders shifting back and forth almost seductively, and took up a seat next to the redhead.
Alucard assumed Aya’s position and leaned next to him for a moment, whispering softly into his ear, “They’re all fake...” and as he did it, a grin crossed his face. The Vampire then turned away, surveying the club once more, red pools holding back an irritated fire.

Aya dipped his head in acknowledgment, still fingering the glass in his hand. A glance from the bartender drove him to sip from it - so as not to look untrusting of the substance within. Liquid fire seethed down his through, quickly alighting his veins with warmth. The sudden strength of the beverage caught the redhead off guard for a moment, but he quickly shook his off, head cocked down slightly. Wordlessly he mouthed 'Can't leave yet, they'll catch on.' It was a disgusting thought, having to remain in the club for any longer than they truly needed. Of course, reconnaissance wasn't over until he had searched the place up and down thoroughly - and he was planning to do so - but it wouldn't hurt to look drunk doing it.
That mindset, he downed the rest of the glass in a hasty gulp, setting the empty container upon the counter as his mind fuzzed and swam with the alcohol's urgency. The tender sauntered over, hand around the bottle of Aya's chosen beverage.
"More, son?" he asked, brow arched as the redhead looked physically unaffected by the booze.
"Sure," was the muttered reply as violet eyes cast about the room again. As his drink was replenished, Aya lifted it from the bar and slipped off the stool he'd been sitting upon. A slow, comfortable pace slid him to the wall where he perched himself, becoming in essence an alluring wallflower. Drink to his lips, he sipped at it slowly, eyes watching the dance floor before they drifted towards a shadowed off hall. From his sense of depth perception, the branch off corridor ran a good length back, rooms located to either side along it. Where the hallway ended, it turned sharply to the right to possibly lead down to another. Such rooms could be used for various things, he contemplated. There was of course, for sex - though such people seemed not to care where they fucked in this place, or installing the FREAK chip...? But no, they wouldn't do that so close to the main room, should they be searched out - discovery that quickly would be fatal for their cause...
Who the hell turned up the music?! An ivory hand touched his head as his hearing heightened to pound the music further into his mind. It made his brain hurt. Or maybe it was thinking that was putting such a strain on his head. Whichever the case, he didn't much feel like considering anything. As the alcohol seeped its way into his body, he grew strangely... Numb? No, that wasn't the word. Maybe... He closed his eyes, hand shifting to pull down the zipper holding closed most of his shirt. The article shifted, only belts now holding it somewhat closed over his front. And why was it all of a sudden so hot? Hm... He felt free! That's what it was. Violet eyes flashed open as a person placed a hand to his arm. It was a waitress, who batted her eyelashes up at him coyly.
"I see you've got the good stuff. Here, have another glass and I'll take this one for you."
As the female took the glass from his hand, he noticed it was suspiciously empty. Had he really already drank it? He thought he'd been drinking it slowly, but... Something within him urged him to drink more of the stuff. Presented him with the ability to forget the mistake he'd made with Sakura, and his utter submission to Alucard - wherever the Vampire was at the moment. He wasn't up to searching for him, and so he started upon his third glass and as he did he suddenly had all the want in the world to seek out Alucard just because he could.

The Vampire had noticed the quickness in which Aya had guzzled his drink, and it amused him, really. He could see the young man off in the distance, as Alucard had watched him carefully, and noted that the punk was starting on his third drink already. Was Aya getting drunk, then? A grin caused by intrigue and utter entertainment. This, he figured, would certainly be interesting. His pressed all his weight to his back, now allowing himself to completely rely on the counter as he crossed his legs, hands folded in his lap. Surveying the young man up and down, he could identify the dulled look in the violet pools. They did not seem as vibrant as they had earlier in the day, when they had become brilliant gems of endless surfaces, giving a tranquility to Aya’s face, illuminating his very skin, causing him to become a jewel on his own. No, now they seemed void, dead, truly mirrors–though they reflected nothing but the disgusting, shallow air of the room. Alucard had never seen the young man in such a state, and it seemed that with his speedy consumption of the drink it had taken fast effect. It was due to, most likely, the health of his blood that had caused it to travel and infiltrate swiftly.
Though, whatever it was, watching the swaying movements of the young man made Alucard catch a bit of mischievous air within him. He was usually not feeling so toying, so innocently malicious, but with Aya, it was released, and he enjoyed it. Legs were uncrossed and he slid from his seat as well, walking slowly up to the young man. As he grew closer, a tendril of smoke wafted past his nostrils and he shook his head in utter repulsion. Sure, he tried a cig once or twice, but God if anything they were unfulfilling. He had never truly liked the smell of smoke–that is, unless, it was accompanied by screams and death. Though that neither was the same as the scent of burning tobacco.
And as he reached Aya, he took the young man in his arms, pressing the redhead’s back up against his chest, leaning over him and sliding his hands down Aya’s shoulders, hands making sure to noticed the tight, lithe arms. Alucard took the alabaster hands within his own cool grip and brought his face close to the redhead’s. He smelt the pungent aroma of alcohol within the redhead’s breath and winced slightly–completely vile. It had been awhile since he had been close enough to a drunkard to smell it that powerfully. Though, even with this, he pressed the young man close to him, holding Aya’s hands tightly as he nuzzled the young man–the assassin was drunk, why not have a little fun, really! He was interested to see Aya’s reaction. It would be a chance to calm his damned curiosity. Perhaps now was one of the only open windows into the redhead he would have.
“Thought you didn’t drink,” he purred into the assassin’s ear.

"I... Don't," Aya replied, voice an octave louder than he had meant it to be, as his head jerked away from the tantalizing sensation of breath upon his ear - why was the affect of that even intensified? Then again... No wonder people liked getting drunk; it made things louder, passionater... Wait, had he just thought such a word? He'd mean more passionate. The redhead felt like cracking a smile, giggling at the idiocy in his own mind, but he fought of the feeling. Giggle? He didn't giggle! Ever. At least, he didn't think he did... And God forbid he did it in Alucard's presence. The lightly complected hands gripped Alucard's loosely, considering the feel of them against his own. Aside from when the Vampire was dragging him, hand holding wasn't really in their relationship - a shame too, since he found he rather liked gripping the man's hand.
Why was he thinking like one of those stupid school girls that always came into the shop? He was a grown man, he had more sense than to concern himself with how nice a person's hands were. There were more important things to be done. Like... The thought was at the tip of his mind, and he grasped for it, body reacting upon its own into the rhythm of the song blaring overhead. There was the mission, but they were done with that - no... They weren't done yet, but he just didn't give a damn about finishing it just yet. They had the rest of the night, right? And Yohji always complained he was too uptight on missions that involved clubs. Now was as good a time as any to prove that idiot wrong. Even if Yohji wasn't there, but that didn't matter. Maybe Alucard thought he was stuffy too, even though he'd seen how uninhibited he was in bed...
His head span around possibilities with a hyper-active attention span and Aya found it hard to keep up with his own thoughts, and as such pushed them away. Who needed to think anyway? But now that he thought about it, he liked contemplating and thinking. Back into his crazed mind he was thrown, and he bid it a hasty retreat as he chose to allow more primal bodily instincts to take care of him. And, as he escaped the whirlwind of thoughts, he found himself pressed against Alucard, rocking in time to the tune. A light flush of pink drew across his face, all together an alien emotion upon the alabaster mask. He wasn't quite sure what bid him to say it, but the words drifted from his mouth jovially.

"You're an ironing board," he stated, as if this was an entirely obvious fact.

The Vampire’s face twisted into an expression of puzzlement, as he was confounded by Aya’s statement. The punk was obviously more drunk that Alucard had estimated, to make such a nonsensical statement. However, he did not pull away, or appear to flinch. Keeping up the charade, he rocked along with the redhead, holding his hands much more tightly as he leaned down, grinning. Slowly, a triangle of deep pink, similar to a blood-red protruded from the Vampire’s mouth, now slack. With a hot, forced breath, the soft tongue slid gently over the tip of Aya’s ear, slowly paving its way down as he pressed the young man closer to his body. He grinned wider.
“Am I, really?” he whispered into the young man’s ear. The beat of the music swelled and rolled in his ears as he moved back and forth with the young man, and though he honestly didn’t like it, he still could find an odd sort of affection for it–perhaps the mood of the scene set him in the mind set. The pounding base shook his insides, the erratic lighting falling over his countenance, casting shadows that caused an eerily wicked appearance. Lips laid on the tip of the ear, kissing and licking gently, and he chuckled.
“You’re incredibly drunk,” he murmured, his voice poured through his lips sensually. He honestly did not know what was driving him to do this–perhaps it was the punk’s vulnerable state that caused him to act as he did, the guard that had been let down that urged him to tease and toy and play. Alucard didn’t think that Aya would remember, being that he was clearly inebriated enough to not even form a coherent, cogent thought. As such, he could probably even take advantage of Aya–which was, at the moment, what he was doing–but in a different way. The
Vampire was still curious of Aya’s history. Though, something tugged at him–perhaps that was a bit too manipulative? Then he stopped. Too manipulative? For him? Nonsense. He pressed his face into the young man’s shoulder, nuzzling gently, and as he pulled up he blew a warm breath over the assassin’s ear.

"Not... That drunk," Aya mumbled, slurred voice catching suddenly in his throat as his ear received more appreciative attention.
Why had he ever let Alucard find that sensitive part on him? Drunken state intensifying the feel, Aya was about ready to melt from sheer pleasure overload, His mind giggled inwardly - no, Alucard certainly was no longer an ironing board, and he thought for a moment that he said it merely to challenge the Vampire into molesting him to the beat of the music. But then, no - certainly not - for the fact that Alucard would molest him under any conditions. Even when his sister was in control. Feeling an emotional anger rising in him at that memory, the redhead realized that he was indeed drunker than he thought. His emotions were running out of control, something that he didn't like. Loss of control meant the inability to shut up when he should.
That was a dangerous position for him to be in, being what he was and how he was. Alcohol opened a door right into the core of Fujimiya Ran - the boy he'd once been. And wasn't Ran already showing in the act of dancing - swaying, really - against Alucard? Where Aya was fluid in the art of death, Ran was a master in the art of innocent seduction. ...Innocent? Far from it - better was to say that Ran was a devilish, seductive imp.
"Nn..." he tilted head away from the offending lips that bid his cartilage no mercy. "Quit making me like you," Aya growled, mouth set in almost a pout as he turned his countenance to
peer up at the Vampire. Ah... He hadn't just said that aloud, had he? He hadn't said or thought it all, right?
"I- I mean," he stammered, "not that I like you anyway."
A flat-out lie to the Vampire and himself. He couldn't say that he still hated Alucard to this very day. No, the hate factor had lasted about as long as their first trip to Japan, having abruptly ended with Alucard looming over his bed that first time. At that point, he had mildly dislike the man, and now he just wasn't sure what he felt for him.

At these words, the Vampire grinned–oh, so Aya did have feelings for him? It made sense, the young man had let himself be taken by the Vampire, what, five instances now. But, the inebriation had allowed the thought to slip out, and though Aya had quick revoked his statement, Alucard had been alive (Undead?) long enough to catch a cover-up when it was fabricated. The smile that Alucard held was one so wide his fangs gleamed in the lighting, the shadows growing to an unnerving darkness. He spun the young man around, hands still clasped, though he doubted at the level Aya was at now that he would be able to make out much of Alucard anyway. He bent close to the assassin, an amused, mocking expression on his face.
“You don’t?” he inquired, though it sounded more as a statement than a question. “Then why let me fuck you, punk?”
This was the last thing he asked, and followed it with a kiss, pressing his lips up against Aya’s in a demanding passion, hands wrung away from the redhead’s own and gripping the slim hips. He pressed the body up against him, moving with the music still, his pelvis and body rocking and swaying as he kissed the young man, the hands sliding up and down the slender form, groping and grabbing and pushing and holding. His tongue, moist and hot, glided about in Aya’s mouth, despite the disgusting taste and smell of alcohol. The Vampire could endure it, he would most likely wash it out with the young man’s blood eventually, as soon as the blood was filtered from it. Yes, Aya’s blood was godly, but when spoiled with the taste of alcohol, it wasn’t something Alucard was keen on drinking. And besides, with the plethora of FREAKs surrounding them, it would be a foolish move–no doubt not one of them had even smelt blood as incredibly as Aya’s, even when tarnished by drink. His eyes closed in the passion of the kiss, holding it for moments longer, before pulling away finally, teeth nibbling at the lower lip as he did.
“Why let me do that?”
He knew it was odd, perhaps a bit too playful, but the Vampire couldn’t help himself. He was thoroughly enjoying it was all he knew, so why the fuck not.

"You don't give me much of a choice," Aya returned, violet eyes squinted to try focusing. His body moved with Alucard, fully taking advantage of the situation as he cocked his head down.
"I should hate you, really. I don't even know why I won't hate you, 'cause I can't stand you most of the time," he murmured, shaking his head. "I could have resisted you the first time though it probably wouldn't have made a difference. And how many idiots would take that much abuse?"
And why couldn't he shut himself up - it took biting down upon his own lip to silence himself. He was going to say things he shouldn't, he could feel it. He needed to keep quiet and act like a stupid drunk, instead of one that poured his heart onto his sleeve for the world to acknowledge. - the world at the moment consisting of Alucard.
The ivory face turned up, and he pressed his lips to Alucard's. He hadn't wanted to resist Alucard the first time, nor the second time... The third, he'd gotten about as far as being shoved against the wall before he decided not to want to resist. He pulled back after a second or two, eyes opening. Even now he wasn't resisting. He was mixing business and pleasure on too many levels, but he just didn't care. Frankly, no matter how much the Vampire pissed him off, he wanted the kisses, the teasing and taunting, and he wanted to get fucked by the man when it was convenient for Alucard. There was no denying that Aya wanted that much from him. And maybe that was all he wanted from Alucard, but maybe it was more. Maybe he didn't want to know if deeper feelings ran for the Vampire aside from the aforementioned. His brain hurt.
Too many thoughts all at once, too much confusion in a booze-hazed mind.

Alucard chuckled as Aya spoke, for his words sounded amusing when slurred, and after the young man had finished kissing him, he pulled their hips closer together, as if there were magnets imbedded within them, a force that didn’t let them be drawn apart. A gentle chill was sent through him, as they were grinding, and Aya’s outfit was one of the most tantalising things he had ever seen. The magnetic force was increased, and an intangible pulse emanated from their bodies, and unseen aura that bespoke their hidden passion. Though, in simple terms, it was the Vampire’s strong grip, no matter how you cut it. As he rocked and leaned, his head fell back a bit, looking down at Aya in a confident, mocking delight. However, the gleam within the rubies, as the light flashed and hit their glassy facets, seemed to illuminate an almost frightening cruelty, a promised malicious intent that burned at the center of the gems. It was evident that whatever Aya had said, even if he had stumbled through it, had been the spark for such a fire. His lips parted, and as he spoke, his voice was deep, dark, flowing like the descending night outside of club.
“I gave you no choice?” he queried, and one could tell that within the smooth malevolence there was an edge of indignation.
“You could have resisted me from the very instant I had come into your room, and you could have fought against any further instances–but remember, it was you who instigated it the second time, and it was you who kissed me after Sakura had. It was you, punk, who accepted every advance and made one or two yourself. It was you who asked to be fucked whilst we were in the bathroom and it was you who asked for every bruise I laid on your body. Right now, it’s you who kissed me back after I had kissed you. Don’t you dare insinuate that this is entirely my fault, and that I have never given you a choice, because I have, and you accepted–wholly. It takes two to fuck, Aya Fujimiya,”–he spat out the redhead’s name–“and you have been my willing partner the entirety of the time.”
His mouth was no longer grinning, and the irate luminosity of the crimson gems were contrasted against the dark shadows around his eyes, giving the Vampire an assuredly furious, and simply evil appearance.

The amethyst orbs narrowed, mouth setting into a firm line. "This is entirely your fault," Aya retorted back.
"The night you met me you could have left me alone. When I ran, you didn't have to follow me. And who the hell says you wouldn't have raped me if I had said no the first time? And since when is 'what do you want?' an invitation for sex! You never gave me a choice the first time you kissed me, and maybe I did respond and that is my fault. But it doesn't take away from the fact that you made the first move for me. I asked for my bruises?" Aya almost wanted to laugh at the thought. "I did not asked to have my body bruised and beaten by anyone, let alone
you. So I kissed Sakura - willingly, even - but as far as I was concerned you and I were done. How could I have possibly known I was your property, some goddamn trophy? You never told me about that part of the deal, I had to find that out the hard way, you sick son of a bitch."
Anger brimmed in the violet eyes. “And I never asked for you to try to kill me every time we fuck, and don't think I don't know that if I wasn't immortal I'd be long since dead. You make me sick. Let me go." He turned his head away, hands against Alucard's chest as he tried to shove himself away. "How I ever thought to call for you when Schuldig raped me is a mystery. You would have enjoyed the show, relishing every scream of pain because that's one step closer to you owning me. Aya told me not to let you go, but she had no idea how much you would love to see me dead at your feet."
The eyes slid back to Alucard for a moment.
"There's only one difference between you and Schuldig that I like. After he tore me apart, he took the time to clean me up."

At these words, the look on Alucard’s face only became darker, more cruel, insanity slowly creeping into the sides the scarlet pools, though as Aya tried to push away, the Vampire only held him tighter, closer. Aya was being much too stubborn, much too impudent for Alucard’s taste. What right did the punk have to say such things, when he had no clue of what went on within the Vampire’s mind. Had he no idea that Alucard had actually forced himself to keep from killing Aya, that when he had heard the Schuldig had raped him, it infuriated him? It may have been merely due to property violations, but it was still what he had felt, and Alucard was positive that if he had been there, there would have been an interruption in the events that Schuldig had planned. Aya could deny all that he wanted, but Alucard knew that if Aya did not want to be beaten, did not desire Alucard’s rough sense of affection there would not have been a second time, there would not have been a third, fourth, or fifth time. Aya had found out what was in store for him the first time the Vampire fucked him, and if he hadn’t desired such abuse, he wouldn’t even have mentioned to Alucard the third occasion that he was holding back. He had done it for the redhead’s sake, for some sick reason, and now found himself contemplating why he had ever thought he had held any sort of affection for such a foolish, impudent man. In some way he still desired the young man as his property though the surface feelings contained nothing but raging, angry fire. What had, in some way, infuriated him more was the fact that Aya had the gall to compare him to Schuldig, and say that he’d chose the bastard over him. However, he somehow knew it was a lie–because when it was with Alucard, it was sex.
“Is that so, punk?” he hissed, seething. “Then why did Schuldig rape you, and I merely fuck you?” Alucard did not pull Aya away, but instead, drove him into a kiss, teeth and lips rough, and it was short but forceful, and got a message across.
“No matter what you say, you can’t escape, because you will always belong to me–flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin.”
And he said this, he glanced down, spotting the keys to Aya’s car hooked on a belt look, which he ripped them from, and thrust the assassin forward–as the young man as so desired–with such a startling force (as Alucard had the strength of twenty strong men) that it sent Aya into a wall. He should have just left the punk there, stumbling for a way home, but instead he stalked up to him, gripping the young man by the wrist and twisting him forward. He mentioned not a word as he dragged the semi-stumbling young man out the club, and outside. The Vampire opened a door and nearly threw the punk inside, slamming it behind the young man and getting inside himself.
He pushed the keys into the ignition and twisted them, setting it into gear and driving off.

The assassin had meant to get a rise from Alucard with such a final statement, and he had. One that somehow made him feel smug, even if he'd taken more abuse for it. It was true. He would never escape the man, because he couldn't die to get away.
"You'd put up with my stubborn ass for the rest of eternity?" Aya mused, finding sick humor in that. "How sweet, I just don't know what to say."
His voice was touching upon caustic, and he folded his arms onto the buckles laced over his chest. Maybe Alucard would get bored with him and toss him away - that would be a reprieve, though he did enjoy the affection between himself and Alucard, when it was there anyway.
Just as the drive to Lebende Tote took time, it was a long trip back to Aya's house. A trip that the redhead spent in silence, and when the car was parked he stepped out of the car, wobbly for a moment before balance was regained and he started for the door. He stopped, turned and sauntered back to the car to apprehend the keys from the Vampire so that he could get inside. After all, Manx had put the new house key on his keyring. With those now in hand, he moved back to the door, stuffing the key into the lock. He twisted and pushed, the door giving way to the unlit house. One ivory hand sought out the light switch, and he flipped it nonchalantly as he stepped inside.
Immediately he went to his room, leaving the light off as he sank down onto his bed, laying back to stare up at the ceiling. Maybe he'd made a mistake by blowing up at Alucard... Aya at the time hadn't been drunk enough that he couldn't have held back his explosion. The alcohol had only given him an excuse to do so, because he didn't do it often enough. Holding all that anger and frustration in wasn't healthy at all.

The Vampire had followed Aya into the house (grabbing his clothes as well) and closed the door behind him, perhaps a bit angrily, locking it as well. He had calmed down during the drive home, though still remained baffled as to why he even wanted to keep the punk around. It was something that wracked his mind, and he was growing frustrated with the way he was feeling–the only thing he should be feeling is a need to kill, and knew that well. It was not often this sort of thing occurred with him. The only person he felt rational feelings toward was Integra, and even those weren’t damnable as the ones toward Aya were. As he slid onto a couch in a nearby room, he raked a hand through the sable hair, leaning back, eyes closed. There was no reason to go too quickly with stripping the layers of emotion apart. He ruminated.
Slowly, he pulled each feeling from another. Anger with Aya’s denial and impudence. Frustration that he could not conquer the young man completely. Disappointment in the redhead’s view of him. They all merged and created the swell he was experiencing, which, as he reasoned with it, slowly dissipated. What matter was it that Aya despised him? Alucard certainly did not care, simply all that mattered was that the young man was his. The redhead could resist all he wanted, but Alucard still had him chained, had him strapped down and tied to the Vampire for eternity. Though, he did not know if it would last that long. Perhaps he would push away the young man after a while, perhaps after such a time he would grow sick and disgusted with the assassin’s demeanor, with his stubbornness. But such things were interesting. There was always the chance that yes, perhaps, another perhaps, they would be companions in the twisted way that they were. Alucard grinned.
Yes.
The punk could deny it all he wanted to, but he felt something for Alucard, whether it be lust or the strange, indiscernible affection that the Vampire felt for him. Now that it was straightened out, the No-Life-King felt assuredly at ease. The pull on his lips tightened and his smile grew wider, hints of augmented canines now visible. Who cared, who cared. Unlife was too long to hold such feelings. Why should he waste his time feeling angry and miserable, when he could be enjoying not living? There was too much blood to be shed to make such things like his relationship with Aya an importance. He had it sorted now. Aya was a bitch, but it didn’t matter, as he belonged to Alucard, and it would remain that way–and Alucard was pleased with that. He turned, and saw that in the time he had spent pondering, night had fallen fully, and now the moon was nearing the stage of sinking into the sky. Had it truly been that long? The stars glimmered softly, and the Vampire stood to admire them through the window, hand resting gently on the sill. The light fell on his face, turning his light olive flesh a pale bluish-white, a stark comparison to the now calm crimson pools and dark tresses that fell attractively about his countenance, a content smile on the Vampire’s face.
The placidity expression caused Alucard to appear simply beautiful, and the open-chested shirt wasn’t exactly interrupting the fact. Ah, now he could think of better, much more wonderful things.

Aya... Felt sick. Even as he slipped off into slumber, his stomach churned and gurgled in empty protest to the alcohol he'd drank. His gut bid him immediate rise, and as he did he dashed for the bathroom, ivory hands gripping the toilet as he vomited. Clutching at the seat illy, the redhead looked pathetic as his stomach attempted to hurl up stomach contents that did not exist. Now this he remembered from the last time he'd gotten drunk. Only, Aya could feel the alcohol still seething in him with its last remnants. They'd be gone soon, and with their absence a terrible hangover would come. He groaned - why hadn't he at least eaten something before drinking? It would have made this less painful. He knelt over the toilet for a good ten minutes before he was sure his stomach had settled down, and slowly he stood. His feet moved to the sink, and he peered at himself in the mirror.
A pale, drunk fool stared back at him and as grimace he felt only that his reflection was smirking.
"Worthless..." he muttered, eyes flinching. Shoulders shook with rising passion, and violently he slammed his fist into the glass, the sound of shattering echoing through the small bathroom.
"Why are you worthless!" he snarled, shards of broken mirror driving painfully into his hand. "Why am I..."
The gem-purple eyes pressed shut tightly, warm liquid stinging at the corners. "Aya... If you were here, I wouldn't be like this. I wouldn't be such a wreck..." The bloody hand slipped away from his broken reflection, resting against the edge of the counter as he sank to the ground, tears sliding down his face gently.
"What happened to me... I could take this. I was stronger than this. When did I become so pathetic?" The answer to that question painfully obvious. When he'd let Alucard dominate him, he'd lost control of his emotions, of part of him that needed caging. "This is stupid - why am I crying again?" A pang of pain jarred his mind, and he flinched away.
“Still drunk... Useless and drunk."


At the sound of window smashing, the Vampire’s head swivelled. Keen ears twitched slightly and he, out of sick curiosity, followed the sound. A grin still creased his lips, and he maneuvered through the house it slowly grew dark with malice. Alucard turned a corner, the bathroom in his view, door open. He found the punk, looking the most miserable Alucard had ever seen him looking. The ivory face was distraught but heavy with alcohol, and the body was curled in a vulnerable but protective position. The Vampire noticed the salty solution falling from the punk’s eyes, adding to the tenebrosity of the room. Darkness seemed to weigh the walls in, dragging the ceiling down, and the folded figure on the floor was a classic display of angst. His grin faltered, and he noticed it, but didn’t stop to think about the reason. Alucard did not bend down to comfort Aya, and did not move forward.
He merely hung at the entrance, arms resting against the molding. The crimson pools looked down upon the redhead, a veil guarding all emotion from showing. No, it was utter detachment that shown in his eyes, and he could only stare down, pondering. What had gotten the young man into this state? He looked positively disgusting. One of the most pathetic creatures he had seen in his entire life–sniveling, drunken, foolish. What truly bothered him, however, was how a twinge of pity tugged at his heart–which he should not feel. Of course, the Vampire had felt it before. He thought of the times Integra had been upset, and how she had come to him. She had buried herself in his chest and he had held her–he was not one to instigate such movements, but had no trouble if it were to come upon him. He may have been a sick and twisted son of a bitch, but he was not cold. He spoke, softly, face unreadable, though he didn’t know what drove him to say it.
“What’s wrong?”

Aya almost didn't want to look up as the voice rattled his thoughts - didn't want to see Alucard who may be grinning at his entire situation. But the softness in that voice forced his curiosity to look up at the man. Blurred vision took in the unreadable face, and somehow he misread the blank expression horribly. If Aya hadn't already shattered completely, that blankness had done him in the rest of the way. The tears upon his cheek increased, and he bit his lip to hold them back. He couldn't cry in front of Alucard... He couldn't let this man see how pathetic he was when he cracked - couldn't let Alucard know that he could crack. But it was too late for that. Now, the Vampire had seen - was seeing - the weakest side of Aya that still remained. Not the heartless assassin he had molded himself into, but the scared eighteen year old that had run into his house to see his parents dead, who had seen his little sister hurt in a hit-and-run. This was the Aya - Ran - that wasn't strong enough to stand on his own two feet anymore and no longer knew how.
This Aya couldn't take blank expressions without getting hurt by them, didn't know how not to cry when it hurt that much.
Shakily he pulled himself to his feet, the counter his only crutch. The ivory digits clenching the marble were paler than usual, and Aya's face was drawn in stress, break down carved into the normally beautiful countenance. He quivered, staggering as he moved to step forward. He had meant to run past Alucard to get away, but as his stride stumbled, he fell into the Vampire, body gentle shaking with quiet, inaudible sobs. The slender fingers clutched at Alucard's shirt, and he closed his eyes, pressing his face into the fabric to hide the tear stained face. He didn't want to be seen like this. But... He didn't want to be alone either...
"Alucard..." he murmured, voice unsteady. "Don't let me go."


The Vampire’s face remained empty, and, almost reluctantly, arms fell from the molding to surround Aya, pulling the young man close to his chest and holding him. The strong arms encompassed the trembling figure, and his void gaze drifted upward as he pressed Aya to his chest. The young man had said his name, and to his face. He felt a strange satisfaction from it, as if he had some how accomplished something, though what it was he couldn’t be bothered to think about either–it seemed better to simply keep the silence and tranquility. Just earlier the young man had said that the Vampire made him sick, and was now requesting some type of odd, but seemingly natural comforting from him. Alucard had no qualms about it, as he had known he wouldn’t, though it did seem so different. To see Aya in such a state was nothing less than shocking or surprising in any manner of the word, due to the seemingly impermeable mold that the redhead had built around him.
What had drove it to break and collapse? Was it their argument, or was the entire situation–their violently rocky “relationship,” his submission and then inebriation, paired with the blood and gore that seemed to follow both of them. Either way, it certainly worn against the young man who now laid in his arms, eyes pouring his fatigue with whatever it may be. The Vampire would have sighed, but he didn’t feel as if were appropriate. It was something that Alucard did not have to do often, this sort of comforting thing, but when he did do it, it was... different, some feeling he couldn’t describe, nearly soothing. Perhaps it was simply the position he held once more–dominant, though it was in a different situation. Or maybe it was that he could experience another part of himself which often did not come to the surface. It was stirring, in any case. And, strangely, as he felt Aya’s body jerk slightly whilst he cried, he held him closer, chancing a glance downward for a moment.

There were so many reasons why the assassin had shattered. Killing Takatori hadn't fixed the fact that his sister was in a coma, didn't give him a chance to try to go back to what he'd been. But how could he have ever thought he'd be normal again? Had he really thought that when Aya-Chan woke up that the two would just go back to living their quiet life? She'd lost years that she would never get back, no matter how hard she tried, and always with him there would be those memories of what he'd become to avenge her. Those cold and empty years he had spent murdering one after another until he had lost count of them all - the knowledge that he would spend the rest of eternity with those memories to remind him of murderer that he was. Even Aya-Chan had been frightened to see what Aya had turned into since her accident. Since when did murderers by their own choice deserve their lives back when they wanted to stop? And did he even want to stop killing at all? Had the blood through those years carved so deeply into his being that murder had become the only profession he knew beyond the ability to nurture flowers? Losing control of his life hadn't helped this either. Before Alucard he'd had a one-track mind - avenge Aya-Chan and wait for her to wake. Everything had been dedicated to Aya-Chan. Unlike his parents, she still had the chance to live. And she deserved that chance - she'd never been anything but nice to everyone she met and that counted for something, right?
But his sister wasn't the only thing on his mind anymore. The harder he tried to push out Alucard, the more the Vampire stayed on his thoughts, bidding him to forget his last cause for living. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't escape any fate that he'd laid out for himself. And he had done it to himself. He'd chosen to become Weiss' leader when Persia sought him out. In the end it had been he that turned his head to offer his neck to Alucard, when he could have just said no. And when Persia had given him the ultimatum to stay with Aya-Chan? He could have said yes. He could have gotten away from the Vampire then, if only for a bit.
Fujimiya Aya, the man that made no mistakes, was making quite a few. But that brought yet another question to the surface. Were they mistakes, or had Aya meant to make every one of those decisions without realizing it? Maybe he'd done it knowing he'd continue to need to stand on his own feet - maybe that was why he hadn't minded becoming Alucard's, because he realized that the Vampire would not be one to hold him up when the stress became too much. But then what was this? Why was he seeking comfort in the man he had known no comfort would come from, and better yet why did he feel comforted in Alucard's embrace?
The redhead kept his face hidden against Alucard's chest, refusing to lift it even though the tears were beginning to slow. The remaining alcohol was beginning to flee his body, dissipating to leave a sober Aya clinging to Alucard. And that made the young man feel even more pathetic. The booze had been an outlet for all of this teary angst, but it was gone and he was still upset. And only now did he remember that his knuckles swelled with blood, glass shards gleaming from within the broken skin. It would be a process of fishing the mirror pieces out before cleaning up the wound to wrap it - that was a good sign, he was back to thinking rationally about things. And he felt tired. What he wouldn't give to just fall asleep and be done with it. But open wounds with debris in them did not need to be left unattended. By now, Aya almost felt okay enough to look up at Alucard and possibly step back to stand on his own, but something in him told him to hold onto this comfort because it would not come again.

Feeling that the tears were beginning to slow, and the body had stopped the gentle tremors of despair, Alucard moved a strong olive hand upwards. Orbs caught notice of the damaged hand, and he had held back another sigh. His face utterly calm, his hand gripped the bloody mess and moved it toward his countenance. Slowly, a smooth pink tongue slid out, and brushed roughly over the broken skin, catching some of the glass on it. The Vampire flinched slightly, due to the unexpected bristle of pain that hit his tongue, crimson eyes narrowed in a bit of confusion. Garnet gems darted to the broken mirror, and he realised why it had occurred–that was the sound of smashing glass he had heard. However, he merely spit them out and continued his self-assigned duty, the rubies curtained by light olive flesh in soon enough time, tongue dipping and digging and probing for remaining shards of glass, no matter how it hurt the assassin, until the duty was done and the glorious immortal nectar remained tingling on his lips and tongue. The ensanguined lips curled mischievously, and whilst still gripping Aya’s hand, olive digits lifted the assassin’s chin, pulling forward as Alucard bent down, causing their lips to meet. The smell and taste of alcohol had reduced about Aya noticeably, and this pleased the Vampire as he continued to kiss Aya, nothing demanding or controlling about it. He was soft, eerily gentle, lips a calming caress on the redhead’s as his hand fell around to the small of Aya’s back, pushing their bodies together. The kiss lingered on for moments, a strange warmth traded between the two, seeming to lift the darkness and gloom from the walls of the bathroom if only for that time. Alucard’s optics fluttered open as he pulled away, relinquishing the young man’s cleansed (though still bleeding, slightly) hand, smirking.
“Feel better?” the Vampire purred.

Aya had been drawn from his thoughts when Alucard had pressed his tongue to the bloody knuckles. His body was riveted when he realized exactly what the man was doing, and he was more than a little shocked. But then, had he not accused the Vampire that his rapist was nicer in that regard? Of course, it might have just been that the glass was inconvenient for Alucard, and that was the only reason he cleaned it - but Aya was having a hard time believing that. And the soft kiss? That only helped to convince him that for once Alucard was being gentle and nice with him. Now, there'd been tender moments before, but never had they shared the simple niceness of most relationships.
The assassin took a step back from the man, violet eyes glancing from the older man to his hand, and then to his broken reflection. His face was tear-stained, but slowly regaining its color.
"Of course I'm better. I'm no longer drunk," Aya replied, turning away to wrench on the water as he placed his hand beneath it. No, that wasn't true. Being drunk could be that good of an excuse. Eyes downcast to his wounded hand as he cleaned it.
"...What happened in here doesn't leave this house, got it? No one else needs to see me at my worst, or know I even have a worst for that matter."
The water ceased as Aya turned around to face Alucard. He stepped forward, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the Vampire's lips - a way of showing his gratitude. As he pulled away, he knelt to fish bandages from beneath the counter and stepped past the man to leave his room and find his way to the kitchen, which wasn't hard as he had memorized his house even in the dark. There he wrapped the knuckles, careful to give him the ability to clench and unclench his hand without mishap.
Rubbing his head, he felt the headache of a hangover coming on. Better to take something to relieve it before it grew unbearable. And it really didn't help that he'd cried. It had been a long time since he had cried so readily - except when Aya-Chan was in control of his body. She'd cried a lot when she was in his body, and it was headache inducing to say the least. He was more than pleased that he did not cry often. Two pills slipped into his mouth, and he downed them with a glass of water before he pulled open his refrigerator and peered into it curiously.
He was hungry.

Stomach full, and confidence high, Alucard remained content, strolling past Aya in the kitchen, wheeling into a connected room. Through the windows, the moon’s beams pierced through and echoed through the room. The stars were dimly lit, as if they were dying candles in the blanket of the night sky, fighting to out-do the moon in its gleaming wonder. The refraction given by the windows only increased the brilliance of the rays, and it caused a swell of appreciation for the night to rise within the Vampire. The blue-white contrasted against the shadows in the corners, causing an incredible effect, such as chiaroscuro within a painting. Alucard smiled, and decided to spend the rest of the night within this room, collapsing down upon a couch within the room. Though, it was not out of fatigue he laid to rest upon the couch, but merely to more comfortably observe the beauty within the room. The Vampire considered it a wonder, for a moment, that Aya did not spend the majority of his time in here, with such an interesting room set up that caused such a gorgeous setting. However, the thought that immediately followed was that, yes, of course, Aya was not one of the Undead though he was immortal.
And the Vampire took time to consider what an anomaly that was–how could such a thing have happened? What mutation had formed to cause such a chemical to be manufactured by the human body? Was it merely something within Aya’s sister’s body, or could it be some type of gene only made dominant when a certain chromosome paired up with another... what was the use of trying to figure such things out. Alucard certainly took advantage of it, that was all he knew.
The Vampire laid his head back against the couch, moonlight turning the exposed, smooth chest alabaster, a similar effect to when he had been staring out from the other room. He appeared sculpted at that very moment, everything carved from perfection to form his body. The slightly parted lips, the gently-shut eyes, the carefree posture and chiseled face. What was most noticeable was his jaw line, trimmed so finely to outline the slenderness of his chin. Basking in the glow of the moonlight, the Vampire himself was illuminated–incredibly so. It seemed that whenever he and the night were paired, it brought out his true pulchritude, something that was masked by his insanity the majority of the time.
Thoughts drifted back to when he had comforted Aya only minutes ago, and the corners of his lips twitched upwards into a grin. The moment was relishable, as such things with Integra had been (though those would most likely be much higher in abundance, though the woman was strong she was not forcing herself to be so, it was simply how she was raised and had collapsed under stress and pressure more than once), but Alucard did not know if he wanted to put such time high in importance. Yes, they were capable of sharing sane, humane moments with each other, but was such a thing appropriate for either of them, considering their occupations? He shrugged away the thought–did that matter, either? If there was once thing Alucard was sure of, it was that both he and Aya had nothing to worry about when it came to enemies using their lives against each other–both of their life forces were inextinguishable.

The redhead glanced up from the cutting board upon the counter, towards the couch situated to half face the kitchen. Aya-Chan had used to lay there, attempting to read that books Aya liked while he made made food for them to eat when their parents were out of town. She'd complain loudly that she couldn't understand the big words in some of the books, demanding that Aya he explain them to her. The violet eyes glanced back down, but his hands abruptly stopped slicing through the vegetables found there. A memory had only momentarily blinded him of the man lying on the couch presently. The gaze turned back up, watching Alucard quietly. He jerked his eyes away as they began to wander over the gleaming and visible flesh, memorizing, admiring, praising. Dammit, he'd just let the man see how pathetic he could be, now was no time to be getting other ideas in his mind.
Aya turned his attention back to his work, but it drifted once again back to Alucard, lying sinfully beautiful on the couch. Again the thoughts of the Vampire were bidding him to forget the memories of his sister that he had, and he shook away the feel. He would not let Alucard chase away his memories of Aya-Chan. The eyes turned to glance at the small table placed next to the couch, bosting the last book he'd taken off the shelf to read when time allowed. That very item proved that Aya spent time in the living room. In fact, when he was at home and not sleeping, most of the time he was in there. He'd even fallen asleep upon the couch often, book against his chest as he slumbered with empty dreams.
Again the assassin pushed away the urge to look at Alucard again, forcing his concentration to remain on food. He should be starving, with his stomach empty, but apparently necessities such as eating wanted to take a back step to whims such as admiring his lover, and thoughts of sex were on the brain. There was no stopping them now, he guessed. Reluctantly he abandoned the knife, laying it upon the counter as he turned to enter into the living area. One hand resting on the top of the couch, he leaned down, brushing his lips over Alucard's as his free hand slid over a smooth cheek. The crimson sidelocks fell forward, curling and resting against the face beneath his in a gentle caress. The amethyst eyes fell shut, and he held himself there, unable to pull himself away.

Caught up in thoughts with eyes closed, Alucard was a bit startled when Aya had started kissing him. His mouth had slid open slightly more, and the lids covering the crimson pools were
slowly tugged upward. However, with a grin he wrapped an arm around the young man, a hand resting on the arch of the assassin’s back, pressing it forward as to bring their bodies closer. His other hand rose upward to brush back the red silk that had fallen onto his face, placing one securely behind Aya’s ear. The kiss was returned with a bit of vigor, the Vampire pressing his lips into the redhead’s own, tongue brushing against the lower lip quickly. Alucard was always open for this sort of thing, as it was spice in the meal of his life... which was a terrible analogy, but he didn’t care about that either. Powerful arms jerked the young man forward, causing Aya’s arm to bend and the body to fall totally onto Alucard’s own.
Strong digits fell to the young man’s sides, sliding up and down the body covered in tight garments. The buckles seemed almost a bother to the Vampire at the time, but he still held the young closely, the kiss slowly heating in passion. He wondered what had driven Aya to do such a thing, really. Due to the young man’s resistance earlier to him, how he had denied that everything was his fault, blamed it all on Alucard... he was now in a position that could effectively be lorded over him. Then again, it wasn’t truly that surprising, due to the fact that Aya had just been involved in an incredible break down, and was now just recovering. Not only had he admitted submission to Alucard and regretted it, he then continued to deny it, sob over all that had happened in his entire life, and find consolation within the Vampire’s arms.
Though, Alucard forgot when all that added up to wanting kiss like they were now–not that he would complain, of course. As mentioned, Alucard heartily accepted all advances that were to do with excitement within his life, and subconsciously he wondered if this would progress to sex. If so, then this couch would most definitely become blood-stained within the hour, and he figured Aya would realise it as well. The kiss was broken off for a moment as the Vampire began to kiss down Aya’s cheek and drag his tongue back and forth across the jaw line, before pulling back at which point their lips rejoined. A bit of arousal rose within him, the pull at his lower stomach and the longing that bristled in his loins.

And Aya had been planning on a single kiss to transgress between them, but no matter. Sex was permeating his mind, and he might as well let it get satisfied. The ivory hands fell to Alucard's shoulders, sliding up to rest against the light olive face as he returned the kiss. One arm moved to rest next Alucard's head as he lifted his own upper body slightly, the hand still on the cheek stroking over it gently before drifting down to unbutton the rest of Alucard's shirt. Violet eyes opened for a moment, looking down at the older man as the whispering digits painted over Alucard's chest softly, brushing over every part of the olive canvas with an artist's precision. Or was it the precision of an assassin, in this case?
The fingered brush lifted away from the sculpted muscle, touching upon his own chest as the slender digits worked with the buckles. The redhead leaned forward, lips descending onto Alucard's heavily, hand still at work as the other curled into the sable tresses. The first buckle gave way, the strips of once connected leather falling to touch Alucard's abdomen. The hand moved to the second, administering the same attention to it to unclasp the leather binding. As he turned to work on the third, he noticed that he could now breathe much easier, and he wondered momentarily why he hadn't thought to at least loosen them before. At last, all of the buckles strapped over his chest had been undone, and alabaster shimmered from the slit created by the open zipper upon the shirt.
Lowering himself back onto Alucard, his hand ran over one shoulder as he pressed his body into the Vampire's, deepening the kiss as he closed his eyes tightly. Before it had always been Alucard to instigate sex, and most of their kisses - though Aya had started a few of his own,
but never had he blatantly sought out the lust in the Vampire for his own gain. He merely waited, and when Alucard came to him he took it. Always at Alucard's convenience, but never at his own - until now, that is.

Taking notice as Aya had done it, and pleased with the fact the assassin’s chest had been exposed–mangled as it was, yes, but exposed nonetheless–Alucard’s hands began to work at the buckles on Aya’s arms. Digits fumbled only slightly from the outside, but within moments, both were undone, loosening the top so it could be removed. Alucard had done this all whilst kissing Aya, and praised himself a bit for it, and after soon got to work on the top, slowly working it off from the upper-torso. The fabric clung so tightly to Aya’s flesh that Alucard found himself growing a bit frustrated, and with increased strength began to pull it from the assassin. What came along with this was a elevation in passion with the kiss, tongue applied readily to the punk’s mouth, a familiar territory now. Aya’s hot mouth was an invitation that the Vampire could not resist, and finally, the buckled top was removed completely from Aya, flung to the side. Alucard erected his back, bringing himself upward to meet the assassin, hands pressed against the warm back, mouths attached. For a moment, the olive hands were held out, sliding the thin fabric of his shirt from his body and letting it drop down to the couch.
He adjusted their positions so that Aya’s legs were now embracing his body, their groins touching in a dangerously sensual way. Alucard groaned slightly as the kiss continued, but suddenly he allowed it to end, dropping his mouth to Aya’s neck, lips suckling and praising the still-bruised flesh. The Vampire wondered when Aya would ever recover from such things, though he was not raging enough with lust to drive his fangs into the tender flesh. For now, merely lips and smooth tongue were applied, two digits that were gripping the alabaster back now sliding up the assassin’s spine, applying the touch ever-so-gently, nearly teasingly. As it reached the nape of Aya’s neck, it fell slowly back down, resuming its former spot and pressing the young man into him. He could feel the arousal growing with him, much more evident now, but it was not strong enough so that this position must lead to sex, though he knew within moments it would progress to that point.

Aya tilted his head forward, hands playing over the muscled form of Alucard's upper body. A gentle shudder ran through his spine as the strong fingers touched upon it feather-light. The alabaster chest rose quietly, and fell just as such. Bruises still marked a good portion of it, but the damage he'd suffered at the hands of Schwarz was healing well - the bigger the wound the faster his body sought to fix it. But then there was the issue with the skin Alucard had broken on his back only earlier that day, but small wounds like those would heal relatively quickly Aya thought. Violet eyes drifted over the sturdy shoulders, following the curve of the collarbone, the fingers following the admiring gaze.
Abruptly his praising was brought short as from the table his phone rang. The face turned up, and slightly around to look behind him, and he glared at the phone angrily, as if the sheer irritation he felt towards it would shut it the hell up. To no avail, the godforsaken thing would not silence. In a cat-like arch, he bent back, consequently pressing his groin into Alucard's as his hand snatched up the offending technology. A glance at the number told him that it was either Yohji or Omi calling from the flower shop. With a grunt, he answered the phone, leaning forward to allow the Vampire access to his neck again.
"What is it?" the redhead grated out, before Omi could say a word.

"Ah..." Omi seemed on edge, and strangely apologetic. "Aya... I don't know if you've seen the news but..."
Quietly Omi relayed what was airing currently on the television, and the hand not holding the phone moved to cover Alucard's lips lest the man try to further seduce him. He tilted his head to the side, holding the receiver in place as he groped about the top of the couch for the TV remote. Hurriedly he flipped on the TV directly parallel to the couch. The news replaced the black screen, and violet eyes widened as a familiar name was mentioned by a reporter.
"Sakura Tomoe, a local school girl of fifteen, was found murdered earlier today in an alley way, a bullet splitting open her skull. For those that will be attending her funeral, it will be a closed casket."
Aya stared at the screen, mind reeling. Bullet to the head? Strong enough to split a skull in twain? He knew one person that enjoyed point blank shots to a victim's head. The livid countenance turned to Alucard, eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You did it. You killed her," he started, pulling away from the Vampire in utter disgust.
He distanced himself from the couch, feet carrying him in the direction of the door. Pausing, he turned back to the man.
"Alucard, the day you own me enough to justify murdering someone I care about is the day you kill me," he growled, swinging about on his heel as he stalked through the foyer and ripped open the front door.

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:O Drama! So, what did you think of this chapter? Don’t you just love the angst? >3 I’ll tell you, it’s one of my favourite parts. However, it’s review response time! :D Yay!

Oriya-Chan: Yeah, I liked Sakura’s death too, as I hate that chick. I really enjoyed writing it, I’ll tell you what. To tell the truth, I’ve seen not an episode of Weiss, but I’ve done pretty well, ne? Thanks for reviewing, we’re so happy you enjoy the story. Please keep coming back!

Red-on-Black: Alucard and Aya certainly will be together for eternity. Of course, Alucard will never leave Hellsing, and Aya cannot leave Weiss. They won’t. Simply out of character. But they’ll remain together. They can do that online thing, right? XD Anyway, no spoilers. Or did I just give you one? Nah, probably not. Or did I? :O We really appreciate your review, and just as I said with Oriya, please return! :D

Mikko: There are plenty of inappropriate comments to come, rest assured. XD And Aya is a rather bad boy, though he’ll never admit he likes being punished. Perhaps that’s why he keeps coming back for more? >3 You do really well for English being your second language–better than 60% of the people in my school, definitely. So, thanks for your review! :D Keep them coming!

That’s all for now, please remember to review and we really appreciate you reading! :D