Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Amoare ab Hostis ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Author: VelvetBlood

Title: Amoare ab Hostis

Rating: NC-17

Summary: What if you longed for that which you could not have? What would you do to have it at all costs? Love/hate, angst, drama, sex, violence, slash. Alucard/Anderson, Alucard/Walter.

Disclaimer: I own jack shit.

Author's note: "Amoare ab Hostis" roughly translates into "To Love an Enemy" in Latin.

I originally wrote "A Taste of Darkness" as the only completed part of a rather large plot bunny I had. Ironically, it was the very end. AToD is the sequel to AaH. I will be writing a sequel to AToD as well after I get done with this story. The idea for these fics came to me after watching "Sword Dancer". It seemed to me that the bitterness and resentment between Anderson and Alucard had more of an old feel to it. Like maybe that was not their first meeting. Perhaps something in the past had occured between them to make them hate each other so much? Hmmm.

Warning: This fic does contain slash, and also some underage sexual material. If you cannot deal with this, DO NOT READ THIS FIC. Don't flame me just because you can't handle something a little out of the ordinary. I'm supposing this isn't the case, otherwise you wouldn't be reading an Alucard/Anderson fic to begin with.

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Walter stared out over the empty vastness of Lodz through the grime and soot coating the windowpane. Brief flashes of flame and smoke dotted the horizon and illuminated his profile as he leaned against the window ledge in an abandoned room high up in one of the deserted buildings of central Poland. Dust felt thick and grainy under his fingertips. The room was in a horrible state of disuse. However, beggers couldn't be chosers. And that's exactly what they were.

Glancing over, Walter watched as dim light from the explosions outside flickered across the hauntingly handsome features of the creature sitting in a dusty armchair across from him. Alucard was youthful beauty preserved for eternity in death. He couldn't help but wonder, however, what the vampire might have looked like before he had fed. And what would he have seen if he had been so brave as to lift the lid of the coffin and peak inside?

The master vampire had only risen just hours before, during a fight with the Nazi troups they had been assigned to assassinate. Unfortunately, the Captain and Major had escaped, retreating to a stronghold in Southern America. Walter cursed inwardly as he thought of having to admit this to his commander when he saw him again, which would be soon. A helicopter rescue squad would be arriving in mere minutes, having been radioed their coordinates just shortly after the battle.

Turning again to face the window, Walter caught a glimpse of his reflection in the dirty glass. He looked like hell. The battle had done a number on his fair features.

He was young. Only fourteen and already a member of Her Magesty's elite forces. His eyes were a pale blend of ice blue and cold granite gray, and glowed like moonstone in the pale light. His hair was as black as raven's feathers and looked as if it had been recently ruffled at all times. It had a slightly untidy, unkept look that Walter rather prided himself on. He felt it made him look dangerous. He was thin. One could almost call him gaunt. Life as the urchin pickpocket he'd been before being recruited by one of the Queen's scouts had gained him a lean form sculpted by the streets in which he'd lived.

His left jaw was swollen and bruised, the shade of purple deepening with each passing hour from where the Captain had punched him. He ran his fingers over his jawbone, wincing slightly, and cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have been able to avoid the man's fist, but he'd been slow. He'd gotten arrogant and sloppy back there, and because of it his main objectives had gotten away. The Queen would not be pleased.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself." A voice like liquid smoke issued from behind him.

Walter turned to face the vampire who had been studying him ever since the battle. He knew little to nothing about him, other than he was an agent assigned by one of Her Magesty's secret organizations specifically formed to deal with matters of the supernatural. The Hellsing organization. He'd heard of it, of course. Ever since he'd been recruited when he was twelve years old, he'd overheard hushed voices whispering in shadows about the illustrious Hellsing family, which served the Queen and no one else. He'd also heard rumors that they kept demons in their dungeons. He supposed the creature in front of him was evidence enough of that.

"Reading my mind?" He asked dryly.

"No," the vampire murmured softly. "You were projecting."

The younger boy snorted in genuine amusement. "Yeah? I'll try to keep that down a bit for you."

The vampire chuckled, his dark, rich voice flowing smoothly over the notes like fingertips down a backbone.

"Please, don't," he purred. "Your thoughts are most...intruiging."

"Are they?" Walter looked away, disinterested, at the devastation out the window.

"Yes," Alucard hissed. "They're so deliciously dark for one so young as yourself. I feel as though I could close my eyes and listen to the thoughts of a man, instead of a boy."

Turning to glare at the smirking vampire, Walter braced a hip on the dusty windowsill and regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not a boy. I may be young, but I'm not a child." He told the other man firmly. "I haven't been in a very long time."

"I can tell." Alucard grinned.

Walter fought the urge to squirm as glowing red eyes made a slow survey of his body. He wasn't so naive as to misinterpret the look in the vampire's eyes. And if he were honest with himself, the idea of giving him exactly what he wanted wasn't completely repulsive to him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd been with a man. When one lived on the streets, one quickly learned how to trade favors in order to obtain food, money, or a warm place to stay for the night. He'd even dabbled with a few of the other homeless boys in damp alleyways a few times, and had found the experiences to be fun and pleasant.

However, this was different. The monster sitting across from him unnerved him. When the cinder-colored eyes settled on his he found himself fighting a shiver of reaction. No, being with this man, this vampire, would be very different from anything he'd ever experienced before. He decided it was best not to investigate too deeply into the matter until he was ready, or simply to leave it alone entirely. Alucard, seeming to have picked up on his unease, sighed and looked away, breaking the hold his spellbinding gaze held on the boy. Walter couldn't quite explain it, but somehow he knew that the vampire had backed off. For now.

The roar of distant helicopter blades broke the thick silence and both human and vampire turned toward the sound coming from the west. Their rescuers had arrived.

"Well, well," the vampire muttered. "The calvary is here."

Walter's lips turned upwards in amusement, and Alucard winked at him. Together they rose from their dusty perches and made their way to the roof. The air outside was thick and cloying with the smell of burning wood, earth and flesh. Walter's wrinkled his nose at the stench. Alucard turned to him and grinned with a flash of fang.

"Cute." He chuckled.

The youth stuck his tongue out at him. He saw a fleeting expression of contemplation on the vampire's face before he turned away. Not knowing what to make of Alucard's attraction to him, or his apparent willingness to restrain himself, Walter decided once again not to think about it. His clothes whipped harshly against his body as the helicopter landed, stirring up as much dust as air. He ducked his dark head down and ran to the open door, Alucard following behind him.

"No casket?" The soldier inside greeted the vampire, his voice raised to carry over the sound of the rotating blades.

"No," Alucard shouted back. "I can manage by myself this time around."

The soldier gave him a thumbs up and then turned to Walter.

"We've got a small stop to make in Italy before heading back home." He told the younger boy.

Walter simply nodded, turning to gaze out the window as they rose high above the building. He watched as the fires of Lodz grew more and more distant, soon nothing more than glittering stars in the blackness of the landscape below. He thought about England, and what he'd tell the commander about the Captain and the Major having escaped. With a sigh he dropped his head into his hands, cradling it there as he rested his elbows on his knees. He sensed someone slip into the seat next to him and ignored it. He had a headache.

When he felt fingers on his temples he started out of his seat, startled, until he looked to his right and saw Alucard's face looking at him with an expression he couldn't read.

"Relax," he said.

Nodding, Walter closed his eyes, letting the vampire's fingers work their magic on his temples. He sighed in pleasure and didn't object when the vampire turned him in his seat and pulled him back into contact with a firm body. Alucard positioned him so that he was leaning back against his chest.

"Have you ever been to Italy?" Alucard asked him, his voice soft and soothing in his ear.

"Mm-mmm," Walter answered in the negative, the vampire's fingers making him drowsy.

"I'll have to give you a tour, then. Show you the sights," he whispered. "They have the most beautiful cathedrals..."

Walter yawned. "I thought vampires hated churches."

"We do," answered Alucard. "But I'll make an exception for you, my Angel of Death."

And with that husky promise in his ear, Walter fell fast asleep in the comforting embrace of a monster.

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