Let me do it. Just — I think it'll be better for you if you...just let me.
[He rises quickly, all fast and sleek movements like a predator on the hunt, and in the same smooth motion that he uses to sink down onto the loveseat, he reaches over and drags Alucard into his lap, facing him.
When they're close, the smell of Alucard's heat is so much stronger, thick and cloying against the back of his palate. But the blanket smells like him, and that's good. He should smell like him. His scent, his Alucard —
No. No, no, get control. It's just like learning to control Star for the first time. He's the master of Sanguis; it's not the master of him.
And yet it knows what to do, seemingly, so he carefully follows where the urges lead him — gathering Alucard up tight, burying his face against that blond hair and the side of his neck so that he can feel every hot exhale of breath against his skin.
Without even meaning to, a growl starts to rumble in the back of his throat — low and almost like purring, a sound he doesn't know how to make, but one that nevertheless seems calculated to reassure and to pacify the sort of agitation that Alucard must be feeling.]
no subject
[He rises quickly, all fast and sleek movements like a predator on the hunt, and in the same smooth motion that he uses to sink down onto the loveseat, he reaches over and drags Alucard into his lap, facing him.
When they're close, the smell of Alucard's heat is so much stronger, thick and cloying against the back of his palate. But the blanket smells like him, and that's good. He should smell like him. His scent, his Alucard —
No. No, no, get control. It's just like learning to control Star for the first time. He's the master of Sanguis; it's not the master of him.
And yet it knows what to do, seemingly, so he carefully follows where the urges lead him — gathering Alucard up tight, burying his face against that blond hair and the side of his neck so that he can feel every hot exhale of breath against his skin.
Without even meaning to, a growl starts to rumble in the back of his throat — low and almost like purring, a sound he doesn't know how to make, but one that nevertheless seems calculated to reassure and to pacify the sort of agitation that Alucard must be feeling.]