reposing | a world without logos

a world without logos | stoneup

The conclusion of the mission in the heart of Paris had finished by Alucard's lone hand -- technically, in any case. The building in which Millennium was inhabiting and running tests, evidently, had already seen its blood bath from someone else: one of their own, more or less. Alucard returned to the Hellsing manor with the blonde-haired vampire, covered in dried blood and wearing clothes that don't fit him, scrubs and a lab coat -- and a giant scar on his chest that he could not hide.

The vampire's name is Adrian. Beyond being a pet project, he doesn't remember anything else outside of a life of Millennium. It begins there, and ended with circumstances Alucard only described in a laugh and a Don't interrupt his reading time.

The elusive new vampire is not seen for another day. Then, as if he has always belonged in Hellsing manor, he walks the halls with a regal elegance, fully dressed this time and certainly much more put together. There is almost always a suspicious look in his golden gaze, skeptical as he looks at most people, but significantly less lost than when he'd first arrived.

Reluctantly, he does approach one Trevor Belmont, a book under one arm.

"Alucard has instructed me that I should be introducing myself to the rest of the organization," Adrian says, sounding bland and distant.

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He lets out an abrupt bark of laughter. Trevor -- can't remember the last time anyone called him smart, honestly, and he's about to comment on it when Adrian continues to speak and he suddenly feels the flush that had crept over his cheeks chasing down his neck.

Damn it, hadn't he been the one flustering the vampire a handful of minutes before? He squeezes Adrian's fingers carefully, glancing to the side. He's ... embarrassed?

"Better interesting than boring, but not exactly the way I thought things would end up tonight," he admits, shaking his head and looking back to the vampire's face.

"No, I suppose not." Adrian looks up at him. "It wasn't exactly my intention, either."

He knew what he was expecting when he invited Trevor down with him, and he suspects the mercenary had much of those same intentions. Absently, he rubs away the remains of the drying blood on his face.

"Sort of kills the mood a bit, doesn't it."

"A bit," he admits, although the sudden hammering in his chest argues with him on that point. When things are quick and emotionless, the thing he'd been expecting from a vampire he assumed was starved for intimacy, things are -- easy, familiar.

This? He's not so good at. His gaze softens when Adrian looks at him, though, and he brings the vampire's hand to his lips to brush a kiss over his knuckles. "But it's fine."

And it is, honestly. That's the odd part -- finding a strange connection in the Hellsing organization isn't something he expected either, but he finds himself wanting it.

The reassurance seems to be enough. Adrian smiles faintly, reaching up with his free hand to touch the side of Trevor's face, touching the roughness of his scruff and tracing his jawline.

"How patient of you," he says, sounding fond.

Leaning in, Adrian presses a soft kiss to Trevor's cheekbone. Then another to his jaw. An invitation, if he still wants it.

Another trait that nobody in their right mind would associate with him -- patience.

Still, he appreciates the thought, and the fact that he's touching him again. He wouldn't have pressed on further, given the amount of shock he was sure that Adrian was in now, but ... With the kisses as clear indications, Trevor turns his torso toward the vampire, brings his own hand up into Adrian's hair to guide him into a proper kiss. His lips are eager, if a bit clumsy, a warm contrast against the vampire's mouth.

Truthfully, Adrian is no better. He can't remember this being soft, but he knows he must have done this before as well -- but he's still careful with his fangs. He remembers that being an issue, and he doesn't want to cut Trevor open.

So, he keeps his jaw relaxed, his mouth open. He can taste the wine they'd just had, but more importantly he can taste Trevor, feel his warmth that he finds himself craving. Moving with abrupt confidence, he shoves himself into Trevor's lap, content to continue pressing into the kiss for the moment.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd spilled blood during something like this, but he supposes it's different when you're dealing with a vampire -- he makes a low noise in his throat as Adrian shoves himself into his lap, but quickly settles an arm around his waist to keep him half-balanced there.

With Adrian's pressing, he runs his tongue along the vampire's lower lip and explores more of his mouth, fingers trailing over the back of his neck. Adrian has so much skin exposed right now for him to explore, and he's planning on doing just that.

Hands wander up to hold the back of Trevor's head, fingers running through shaggy brown hair that's terribly unkempt, not unlike the rest of him. Adrian pauses at the warm tongue sliding into his mouth, teasing him, and finds that he rather likes it. A low, deep rumble stirs in his chest, reaffirming his appreciation before he drags his nails down to toy with the front of Trevor's shirt.

The man is wearing too much clothing right at the moment, in Adrian's opinion.

They ought to remedy that, then.

The shirt is easy enough to unbutton, and Trevor is more than eager to help Adrian with getting the offending garment off; his body is still well-muscled and scarred, perhaps no less than it would've been if he'd lived life as a solo mercenary. More bullet wounds, certainly, but cleaner scars -- better taken care of.

He sighs into Adrian's mouth at the hand in his hair, finally drawing back from the kiss to take a shaky breath and let the corners of his lips twitch into a grin. His hand trails down the middle of Adrian's back, light fingertips against his spine.

It shouldn't strike him as strange; he has his own scar, after all, but he can see every bit of Trevor's humanity. Absently, his fingers trace over the scars, also finding himself a little delighted by the hair on the man's chest and abdomen.

He hums a little at the fingertips against his back, smiling almost sheepishly to himself. There are flicker of memories here and there, some of them good and some of them terrible, but mostly he has an idea of what he wants.

"You're very warm," he says smartly, then feels a bit embarrassed for saying the obvious -- but he does like it.

"It's all my extra insulation," he responds with an easy laugh, brushing his lips over Adrian's throat as the vampire explores his chest as he'd like. He's certainly never had any complaints about the hair, other than someone once telling him they'd given them an unfortunate case of friction burn, but he'd been fairly sure they were joking.

He lets his hand settle on Adrian's hip, thumb stroking over the small divot there.

That does actually manage to make Adrian laugh softly, a sound he didn't think he was still capable of after all this time. He smiles, still delicately tracing over how well toned Trevor is, eventually settling his hands onto the man's hips.

Adrian nudges close, pressing his chest flush against Trevor's, liking that, too. Tilting his head, he kisses his neck. Then, holding his breath, he gives a little experimental roll of his hips.

Trevor grins into the crook of the vampire's throat, chancing a light nip against the skin.

There's a moment of tension as Adrians's lips brush against his neck, timed almost the same as when Adrian's hips roll down against his. It at least -- disguises his momentary hesitation, and he turns his chin to give the vampire careful, intentional access to his neck.

"Ah--" he murmurs, muffling the noise against Adrian's shoulder and answering the roll with a responding lift of his hips.

The nip gains a wordless noise of approval. For Adrian's part, he doesn't chance his fangs; he won't bite, he won't even tease with them. He knows to be careful, and he finds he desperately doesn't want to give Trevor a reason to leave.

He breathes in sharply when Trevor shifts back against him. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard, and he feels the familiar heat rising up into his face, but he isn't going to stop. One hand curls against Trevor's back, the other staying to his hip, and with more determination he's rocking against the mercenary.

Yes, this was a good choice, he decides.

As the noise hits his ears, Trevor decides immediately that he wants to hear more of that -- he shudders pleasantly at the feel of their hips meeting and nudges his hands between them, trailing his hand over Adrian's torso, dipping low beneath the trousers.

More experienced now than he would've been if he'd been a solo act for most of his life, the intimacy is something that comes smoothly to him. His lips settle onto Adrian's collarbone, outlining the bone just underneath skin.

For his part, he finds that he rather likes the teeth on his skin. Adrian sighs, rolling his hips to push into Trevor's hand.

He likes this. He definitely wants more. With a huff of air, Adrian is suddenly sliding off of Trevor's lap, hoisting him into his arms with a sharp smile. Against the lid of his coffin is his foot, and he shoves it off, showing a well padded, velvety interior.

"I think I like you, Belmont," he purrs, giving him the lightest kiss before he's settling the both of them inside. "Help me finish undressing?"

And Adrian is lifting him then, settling him into the coffin and -- he's really going to fuck someone in a coffin, isn't he? He's certainly not going to back out of this, and when the vampire says he likes him, it makes an unfamiliar twitch in his chest.

"I think I could manage that," he muses, tugging insistently at the closure of the vampire's slacks. One hand slides through the opening once he has one, eagerly palming his growing hardness.

After licking his lips, he shivers when he feels Trevor's rough palm against his cock. God, he could be content to just rut into his hand, but he knows he wants more than that. Adrian shoves down his trousers, tossing them aside out of the coffin before he's pressing back into Trevor's hand with a firm rock of his hips.

He presses his palms against Trevor's thighs, squeezing, inching to work on unclasping his pants in return.

The moment that Adrian's free of his slacks, Trevor wraps his hand around the vampire's length and gives a firm upward stroke, lips curving into a grin.

Trevor assists eagerly with the removal of his pants as best he can when Adrian starts for the closure of them, mostly by arching his hips up into the touch and then shimmying them down his legs -- once he's free, he moves immediately to work his hand into Adrian's hair and pull him in for another kiss, less careful and more passionate than before.

He thinks he likes Adrian, too, and he pours that sentiment into the kiss.

A startled gasp becomes a strained moan, his hips jerking toward Trevor's warm, welcoming hand. It's not the first time Trevor's touched him along his prick, but it's more full-on, all of his hand felt. It's so different than his own.

Into the kiss, he opens his mouth, more receptive than even before, moaning into Trevor's mouth and settling against him. He finds he likes the hand in his hair, so he returns the same, one hand to Trevor's and fingers scratching at his scalp. The other hand, smooth and soft, reaches down and roams curiously over his cock, almost shy.

Both of them now free of the confines of their respective clothes, Trevor takes advantage of the increased skin contact by pressing against the vampire, letting his teeth catch on Adrian's lower lip to tug while he explores him more deeply.

He wants to find out exactly what Adrian likes -- his thumb brushes over the head of Adrian's cock as he continues to pump his fingers, and when he finally feels the vampire's careful touch against him, he provides an approving gasp into his mouth and a low murmur of his name.

Admittedly, he can't remember sex ever being this pleasant or soft. In the few times he can recall, it was harried and rough and animalistic when he was in Millennium when the urge would strike and another subject was willing; Adrian would bite and dominate and claim when there was an agreement struck, a fight for who fucks who, but this is so far from anything like it. Before that, he's certain he hadn't, but admittedly he can't remember everything before he went to sleep.

So this is-- new. All of it is so new, and Adrian can't stop himself from groaning into Trevor's mouth, his hips rolling eagerly into the mercenary's hand, a spark of electric pleasure rushing up his spine at the way the thumb plays with the head of his cock. How odd it is to think that Trevor would be soft with him, but he finds he enjoys it.

Just as he enjoys hearing him gasp, the way he says Adrian's name. With a bit more confidence, he curls his hand to be more snug around the hot length in his hand, giving it a slight tug before he resumes with more consistent strokes.

As much as he and the rest of the Geese had a reputation as the sort of men who tumbled quick and rough into the beds of anyone willing (and that was well and good, when it was time for that sort of thing), he's just as aware that this is something very much unlike that.

His back arches into the more confident touches, the contrast of Adrian's hand around him, cool and strong.

When he draws back from the kiss it's with no small amount of hesitation, his mouth lingering not far from Adrian's so he can breathe raggedly against his jaw, voice low, "Tell me what you want." Because they're still somewhat tangled, and right now he feels too sensitized with pleasure to have a strong preference for how he has Adrian, so long as he has him.

Even just a little, he leans into the warmth of Trevor, his mouth against Adrian's jaw. Even his breath is so warm and he wants all of it, whatever the man will give him. And then, suddenly, Adrian looks-- flustered. Embarrassed. The pink rising in his pale skin, up his face.

"I don't--" Adrian ducks his head a little. Trevor is human and he can't treat him like anything else, like whoever or whatever he's overpowered in a frantic hump or fuck. "I don't have anything to really... make this. Easier."

He could say oil or salve or any number of things, but that's somehow just making his blush more fierce. As if this was more intimate than anything else he'd ever done.

Okay, see, sometimes being the sort of person who's nearly always ready to jump into bed with someone willing has its perks. Trevor glances over the edge of the coffin, where Adrian's tossed his pants.

"Ought to be something in the pocket." Even something vaguely more modern than oil or salve, even. Lubricant is a wonderful thing, even if not all of his encounters end up needing it. Better to be prepared than not. He rolls one hand up Adrian's stomach as the vampire flushes, fingertips chasing the pink flush until it disappears into the blonde's hairline and he opts, instead of helping, to press light kisses down the side of his neck while he continues to stroke his cock lazily.

He can't help that seeing Adrian flustered is altogether too pleasant to pass up, all right?

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