He's been here long enough and had to engage in enough survival-handholding to know that even the slightest contact here is strangely- calming? Meaningful? Something like that. He thought that he was used to it. But Alucard rolls his sleeve up and-
-it's not even a sex thing, is the problem. If it was a sex thing it'd at least make sense. He doesn't want to fuck Alucard. Insofar as he is capable of accepting that he has any real desire to fuck Alucard normally, he kind of wants to do that less than usual. He wants to pick him up and spin him around. Press his forehead against his. Mush his face into his chest to listen to it.
He wants to hear Alucard laugh, which is worlds weirder than wanting to fuck him.
He watches the syringe instead of doing nonsense things because he has the presence of mind to recognise that none of those are good ideas even if he doesn't have the presence of mind to be ashamed. Sure enough, the blood comes out a translucent blue-green rather than a deeper, more opaque red. He watches it fill, and that's something to focus on. ]
It's- [ He watches as Alucard's tongue darts over the tiny puncture. And it's nice, and it makes him feel cared for, and he's kind of aware of how his brain isn't trying to make it into a sex thing when it absolutely should be. ] -it's fine. Drinking and bleeding are my favourite things to do anyway.
[ A pause. ] I'm happy to fuck off and let you get drunk by yourself, but you did say I was going to get ice cream. I think I deserve ice cream.
no subject
He's been here long enough and had to engage in enough survival-handholding to know that even the slightest contact here is strangely- calming? Meaningful? Something like that. He thought that he was used to it. But Alucard rolls his sleeve up and-
-it's not even a sex thing, is the problem. If it was a sex thing it'd at least make sense. He doesn't want to fuck Alucard. Insofar as he is capable of accepting that he has any real desire to fuck Alucard normally, he kind of wants to do that less than usual. He wants to pick him up and spin him around. Press his forehead against his. Mush his face into his chest to listen to it.
He wants to hear Alucard laugh, which is worlds weirder than wanting to fuck him.
He watches the syringe instead of doing nonsense things because he has the presence of mind to recognise that none of those are good ideas even if he doesn't have the presence of mind to be ashamed. Sure enough, the blood comes out a translucent blue-green rather than a deeper, more opaque red. He watches it fill, and that's something to focus on. ]
It's- [ He watches as Alucard's tongue darts over the tiny puncture. And it's nice, and it makes him feel cared for, and he's kind of aware of how his brain isn't trying to make it into a sex thing when it absolutely should be. ] -it's fine. Drinking and bleeding are my favourite things to do anyway.
[ A pause. ] I'm happy to fuck off and let you get drunk by yourself, but you did say I was going to get ice cream. I think I deserve ice cream.