[Eventually, Alucard does come to the door, opening and glancing from behind it. His ears are even longer now, pointed. He has no shirt that will fit him right now considering his arms are also, evidently, white bat wings.]
Jotaro.
[There's a pause as he glances over Jotaro, his expression soft and fond before he opens the door.]
[It's Alucard, he realizes; the source of the scent he's been trying to place is right there in front of him, and if he didn't have self-control he'd bury his face into the back of his neck and breathe in deep the smell of his hair and his skin, but he's also not going to do that because it would be weird and he's not going to be an idiot about this. Probably.]
Uh, sure. I brought...oh. I guess it's not really going to be a lot of help. Sorry, I didn't know.
[He makes his way inside, Star and the amp trailing along with him, and once they're past the threshold he shoulders off the backpack and offers it quietly to Alucard, letting it dangle from his hand by the straps.]
I didn't know if you were...making nests too. I brought a blanket and some of my clothes. A sweatshirt and...just stuff. For a nest.
[Things of his. Things that smell like him. Was he really trying to indulge Alucard's Iris, or was that just the Sanguis impulse at work? He genuinely doesn't know, at his point.]
[It doesn't even occur to him, honestly, what Jotaro must be noticing. It's something he's already been trying to deal with himself, and he's hoping he's burned out enough to not worry about it.
The backpack is taken, his fingernails a bit longer and more like little claws at this point as he grips the bag.]
Oh. [A smile forms on his face and he hugs the bag to his chest, pressing his cheek against it.] That sounds very pleasant. Thank you, Jotaro.
[There is no possible way he can say "I can smell you all over this room" and not make it weird. That's not a normal thing to say. Neither is the fact that in some inexplicable, nebulous way, Alucard seems softer than usual, and it's making him a little crazy in the best possible way.]
I just need someplace with no armrests if I'm going to play, so a couch or a chair without them. So anywhere should be fine, I guess. Just don't sit too close to the amp, it might hurt your ears, especially —
[since they're long and cute today and different from usual]
— since you're not used to the sounds it'll be making. Like, the tonal quality and stuff.
[The bag is reluctantly deposited on the love seat. The apartment thus far is still fairly vacant, more in that Alucard hasn't really figured out what he wants to do with it at all now that he's agreed to be awake.
He trudges to the kitchen, taking a chair that is distinctly without any arm rests, setting it by Jotaro before Alucard retreats back to the love seat. Digging into the backpack, he looks pleased with the blanket the most and decides to bundle up in that.]
[There's a second, just one, where he finds himself standing perfectly still and unmoving as he watches Alucard rummage through the backpack, like something inside him is poised on a knife's edge and thrumming with anticipation until he gets the reaction he'd been waiting for. He can't explain it, couldn't articulate it if he tried, but something in the look of pleasure that crosses Alucard's face mollifies the agitation, soothing it back down again like the stroke of a hand along a cat's back.
Good. It's good. He likes it, he's happy. He's warm now. He smells right. He wants to just — just be next to him, drape on him, he said Iris was giving him a hard time and he wants to be the one who makes that stop, makes him comfortable, makes him —
...What the fuck.
He rubs his hand across his mouth, hiding the lower half of his face as he tries to pull his fucking shit together, and then turns his attention to the kitchen chair because that's just easier to focus on right now. He shifts it toward the loveseat at an angle that will let Alucard easily see the way his hands move across the strings, then drops into it and starts hooking up his guitar with Star Platinum's help.]
...Good.
[He coughs a little, like he's clearing his throat getting ready to sing, and pretends like he's not just filling the air with sounds to regroup while he's otherwise at a loss for words.]
The songs have words. That I'm going to play, they...there's lyrics. I'm going to play you the vocal line anyway, but — I remembered too late that you won't know the words.
[The best way to describe Alucard's movement right now is that he's snuggling down, getting comfortable on the love seat as he pulls his legs to himself as he watches Jotaro. He doesn't even consider that Jotaro might be flustered about him, and just assumes he might be nervous about playing the song. Which is fine, he can understand.]
It's all right.
I promise I'll enjoy it, however it turns out.
[He gives Jotaro his full attention, eager to listen to his efforts.]
Okay, well. You said...a song about being alive. So.
[He ducks his head just a little, focusing on the strings beneath his fingers, and runs a quick scale to loosen up his fingers before settling in.
The song starts slow, deceptively giving the impression that he might've chosen a ballad — and softly, under his breath, he's half-singing the lyrics just enough that the reason for his pick becomes apparent (I feel ali-i-i-ive...) before fading out again to a low mumble (in ecstasy, so don't - stop - me - now) as he works his way through the rest of the intro.
But then he hits the tempo change, and all of a sudden his whole demeanor seems to change with it; his fingers all but dance across the frets, and he's off like a shot.
By the time he hits the second verse, it's clear that he's enjoying himself; one line in and the memory of Freddie Mercury's voice becomes irresistible. This time, he's actually singing, less confident and more just out of familiarity (two hundred degrees! That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit — I'm traveling at the speed of light!), and though it's less of a proper performance and more simply that he's adding vocals to all of the objectively fun parts, two things immediately become evident:
He's really quite good at this, and doing it makes him happy — almost without even realizing it's doing it.]
[In his time, he's witnessed many entertainers. Bards with their jovial tunes, their play elegant and practiced. Jotaro, albeit far from professional, plays well with something he's never seen before, and a song he's never heard.
As he perks up, the blanket slides off his head, down his shoulders. His long ears look alert, his gaze bright and curious.
When he's finished, Alucard reaches out with a hand.]
[He feels lighter. That much catches him a little off-guard, as the last notes die away in the air and a feeling of calm satisfaction begins to settle around him. He wouldn't have thought that there would be something of a release in something like just fooling around on a guitar, but...oddly, it feels like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders, just for a little while.
Music has charms to soothe, or something — his dad used to say something like that, laughing. He'd never really put a lot of faith in it, until now.
But Alucard holds out a hand to him, and the sight of him curled on the loveseat brings that earlier sensation rushing back, that same ache to just...do something that he can't even place or identify.
But it starts, he thinks, with taking Alucard's hand.
Uncertainly, he sets his guitar aside and gets up, moving over to cover it with his own.]
[Gently, his little claws curl over Jotaro's hand so he can tug him closer. He thinks briefly back to their kiss; encouraged by enchanted antlers or not, he still thinks about that from time to time. How much he'd like to do that again.
He reaches out with his other hand, claws cupping against Jotaro's cheek.]
Fuck me.
[It's softly spoken, yet still without much hesitation. It doesn't even sound like an order, but like an idea. He feels wet, like he's been feeling since Iris started, but it's more now and he wants so much he could cry.]
[Of literally every possible thing he might've expected Alucard to say to him just then, that...was definitely not among them.
For a split-second, there are two halves of him, the man and the Moonblessed, the human and the wolf. His Sanguis is tangled up in the smell of heat and it feels like it's rattling the bars of the cage within his bones, demanding to be let out and tend, smother, ravish, claim — while the human is still stumbling over is he sure he heard that right and holy fuck and HOLY FUCK.
But the two halves fold in on themselves and combine when his startled gaze lands on Alucard's face, gauging the expression there. He thinks of how uncertain Alucard had been even about suggesting that they might be friends. He thinks of how lonely he must be, and how he might be aching, and how he probably has no one else to turn to.]
...You're not kidding.
[If Alucard's words are an idea, his own are a moment of quiet revelation. Still holding Alucard's hand, he sinks down onto one knee on the carpet in front of the loveseat, wanting to be lower than him, feeling more comfortable if he's the one looking up into his eyes.]
[There are a lot of sides to him debating over this. The Iris moon assures him that it's what he wants, he's been in heat for what feels like forever, he's wet and uncomfortable and he's had so little to prepare himself for this. But there is a part of him that knows what he's just said, and it's too much to ask isn't it? Too much to put onto him.
And here Jotaro is, kneeling in front of him, holding his hand. It's charming, it really is.]
It's like... I'm on fire, on the inside. I don't... [Alucard shudders, a little ashamed to even describe how he's feeling.] It feels like a deep itch I can't scratch on my own.
I'm sorry. You don't need to do anything. [His ears flatten against his head. This is his friend, and he can't be selfish to ask him to do that.]
[The soothing, comforting noise that escapes his throat surprises even him as soon as he makes it; that wasn't him, not exactly, but it was, and that's...strange.]
I think — I think Sanguis is...made to take care of you. Iris. I feel...
[He hesitates, lost for words. Sentences that start with I feel are always so complicated, and this situation already feels like it's spiraling out of control and he's just along for the ride no matter what he does.]
I'm going crazy because I can tell there's something wrong. Like I can't help it. Like if I don't take care of you I'll lose my mind. But that's — Sanguis. And Iris.
[He closes his eyes, another of those little growls falling from his lips without meaning to.]
I need to know what you want me to do. If you need...that. Or I can try to calm you down without it.
[In so many ways than just one. Their histories, their moonblessings -- how odd it's all turned out, but he would welcome whatever it is that Jotaro would give him. Anything at all.]
Come here. Please. Hold me. That... I think would be a good start.
[It could make it worse or make the heat better. He doesn't know. But it's worth trying.]
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.]
[Ah. It's a significant improvement like this, Jotaro dragged him into his lap and the close embrace. Slowly, he winds his arms around Jotaro's shoulders, his wings draping around him in turn as he relaxes against him.
The rumble is comforting, as is his warm hold. Alucard sighs and closes his eyes, nuzzling near. He still feels the distant discomfort of heat and want, but it's muted like this. And that's all he could ask for, truly.]
[It's mumbled, soft, breathy where he presses it against the skin of Alucard's neck; he's being good, holding him tight without letting his hands roam, because even if the wolf inside him is insisting that the bat is his, theirs, the part of him that isn't beholden to Sanguis still won't let this go even a fraction farther than Alucard is okay with.]
Can I bite you?
[His jaw aches. His teeth feel just the right amount of sharp. They would both feel better, something nags at him, if Alucard had the marks of his teeth in his skin.]
[The word escape him before he can even think about it. It's breathy and eager, but the sound of it -- Jotaro's fingers, his mouth, his teeth, all of it -- yes, he wants it. He wants it more than he can stand.]
Please. Touch me. Bite me.
[In what backwards place has he really ended up where a vampire pleads a human to do this? But it doesn't feel wrong, not in the least.]
[Now at last, his fingers rake up Alucard's back, careful to avoid scratching too hard, but certainly leaving faint lines behind where the nails caught the skin. It's easy, too, to angle his chin just a little more and start to nibble at the column of his neck, like he's subconsciously trying to give Alucard the chance to acclimate to the feeling of his teeth before he really sets in.]
Hey. Do you...
[He turns his head, nips at Alucard's neck. Nips again, below his ear. Each new bite lands just a fraction sharper than the last.]
Do you still think about — with the antlers — when we —
[The fingernails on his back are just barely enough pressure. He almost wants to beg for more, that he can take more, but he doesn't. He's lucky enough to have this as it is. So, instead, he shivers and arches his back slightly before tipping his head at the teeth along his neck.]
Jotaro.
[Alucard's voice is soft, almost needy.]
Yes. I do. I thought about it when you messaged me. When you came in.
[It's a lie, an obvious one. He's preoccupied with biting him, like he's still just testing out his jaws and the way his teeth feel when he puts in just enough pressure to make them start to sink into skin.]
— Yes. Yeah. A lot. So much. You acted like you thought I didn't want to.
[He runs his nails back down Alucard's back again, this time directly over his spine, from his shoulders to the small of his back.]
I didn't know if you were right about that. I kept thinking about it.
[The pressure of the bites make him whine, but he wants it. He encourages it, his arms hugging a little tighter against Jotaro.]
...I'd assumed it was just the enchantment. That you wouldn't have, otherwise.
[Isn't he just a cold spot in a room, Alucard thinks distantly, still hurt by the memory. But then, it's not as if Jotaro's ever treated him that way. He always look for Alucard's company.
Alucard shivers again at the fingers running down his spine, down and so close and too close and not close enough. How ridiculously lucky, to have a friend like him.]
[It's hard to know what to say in response to that. He knows better than to say that Alucard is right, even if by one interpretation it's objectively true — but for the horns being where they were when they were, he probably wouldn't have kissed him otherwise. Not in the middle of window shopping, not out in the open.
He doesn't know for certain if there's a circumstance where he would've. It's not like he's looked at anybody in that way since he got here, or ever really did back home. He didn't just sit around thinking about kissing people and then...going and doing it.
But maybe that's not the right question anyway. Maybe it's about something different, and he draws back from Alucard's neck far enough to look at him properly.]
I didn't like it when it stopped. Didn't like that it stopped, I mean.
[That much, he knows for certain is true. Forget what he would've done or didn't do. How he felt about what did happen...that's more concrete.]
[And the only reason Alucard found himself stopping then was when he'd gotten too eager, too excited, and his fang cut Jotaro open. He thinks of licking off his thumb, and that alone makes him shudder. He grits his teeth, clenching at nothing, and holding on Jotaro all the tighter.]
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Jotaro.
[There's a pause as he glances over Jotaro, his expression soft and fond before he opens the door.]
Come in?
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[It's Alucard, he realizes; the source of the scent he's been trying to place is right there in front of him, and if he didn't have self-control he'd bury his face into the back of his neck and breathe in deep the smell of his hair and his skin, but he's also not going to do that because it would be weird and he's not going to be an idiot about this. Probably.]
Uh, sure. I brought...oh. I guess it's not really going to be a lot of help. Sorry, I didn't know.
[He makes his way inside, Star and the amp trailing along with him, and once they're past the threshold he shoulders off the backpack and offers it quietly to Alucard, letting it dangle from his hand by the straps.]
I didn't know if you were...making nests too. I brought a blanket and some of my clothes. A sweatshirt and...just stuff. For a nest.
[Things of his. Things that smell like him. Was he really trying to indulge Alucard's Iris, or was that just the Sanguis impulse at work? He genuinely doesn't know, at his point.]
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[It doesn't even occur to him, honestly, what Jotaro must be noticing. It's something he's already been trying to deal with himself, and he's hoping he's burned out enough to not worry about it.
The backpack is taken, his fingernails a bit longer and more like little claws at this point as he grips the bag.]
Oh. [A smile forms on his face and he hugs the bag to his chest, pressing his cheek against it.] That sounds very pleasant. Thank you, Jotaro.
Please. Get comfortable. Can I get you anything?
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[There is no possible way he can say "I can smell you all over this room" and not make it weird. That's not a normal thing to say. Neither is the fact that in some inexplicable, nebulous way, Alucard seems softer than usual, and it's making him a little crazy in the best possible way.]
I just need someplace with no armrests if I'm going to play, so a couch or a chair without them. So anywhere should be fine, I guess. Just don't sit too close to the amp, it might hurt your ears, especially —
[since they're long and cute today and different from usual]
— since you're not used to the sounds it'll be making. Like, the tonal quality and stuff.
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[The bag is reluctantly deposited on the love seat. The apartment thus far is still fairly vacant, more in that Alucard hasn't really figured out what he wants to do with it at all now that he's agreed to be awake.
He trudges to the kitchen, taking a chair that is distinctly without any arm rests, setting it by Jotaro before Alucard retreats back to the love seat. Digging into the backpack, he looks pleased with the blanket the most and decides to bundle up in that.]
It's so soft.
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Good. It's good. He likes it, he's happy. He's warm now. He smells right. He wants to just — just be next to him, drape on him, he said Iris was giving him a hard time and he wants to be the one who makes that stop, makes him comfortable, makes him —
...What the fuck.
He rubs his hand across his mouth, hiding the lower half of his face as he tries to pull his fucking shit together, and then turns his attention to the kitchen chair because that's just easier to focus on right now. He shifts it toward the loveseat at an angle that will let Alucard easily see the way his hands move across the strings, then drops into it and starts hooking up his guitar with Star Platinum's help.]
...Good.
[He coughs a little, like he's clearing his throat getting ready to sing, and pretends like he's not just filling the air with sounds to regroup while he's otherwise at a loss for words.]
The songs have words. That I'm going to play, they...there's lyrics. I'm going to play you the vocal line anyway, but — I remembered too late that you won't know the words.
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It's all right.
I promise I'll enjoy it, however it turns out.
[He gives Jotaro his full attention, eager to listen to his efforts.]
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[He ducks his head just a little, focusing on the strings beneath his fingers, and runs a quick scale to loosen up his fingers before settling in.
The song starts slow, deceptively giving the impression that he might've chosen a ballad — and softly, under his breath, he's half-singing the lyrics just enough that the reason for his pick becomes apparent (I feel ali-i-i-ive...) before fading out again to a low mumble (in ecstasy, so don't - stop - me - now) as he works his way through the rest of the intro.
But then he hits the tempo change, and all of a sudden his whole demeanor seems to change with it; his fingers all but dance across the frets, and he's off like a shot.
By the time he hits the second verse, it's clear that he's enjoying himself; one line in and the memory of Freddie Mercury's voice becomes irresistible. This time, he's actually singing, less confident and more just out of familiarity (two hundred degrees! That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit — I'm traveling at the speed of light!), and though it's less of a proper performance and more simply that he's adding vocals to all of the objectively fun parts, two things immediately become evident:
He's really quite good at this, and doing it makes him happy — almost without even realizing it's doing it.]
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As he perks up, the blanket slides off his head, down his shoulders. His long ears look alert, his gaze bright and curious.
When he's finished, Alucard reaches out with a hand.]
Come here?
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Music has charms to soothe, or something — his dad used to say something like that, laughing. He'd never really put a lot of faith in it, until now.
But Alucard holds out a hand to him, and the sight of him curled on the loveseat brings that earlier sensation rushing back, that same ache to just...do something that he can't even place or identify.
But it starts, he thinks, with taking Alucard's hand.
Uncertainly, he sets his guitar aside and gets up, moving over to cover it with his own.]
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He reaches out with his other hand, claws cupping against Jotaro's cheek.]
Fuck me.
[It's softly spoken, yet still without much hesitation. It doesn't even sound like an order, but like an idea. He feels wet, like he's been feeling since Iris started, but it's more now and he wants so much he could cry.]
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For a split-second, there are two halves of him, the man and the Moonblessed, the human and the wolf. His Sanguis is tangled up in the smell of heat and it feels like it's rattling the bars of the cage within his bones, demanding to be let out and tend, smother, ravish, claim — while the human is still stumbling over is he sure he heard that right and holy fuck and HOLY FUCK.
But the two halves fold in on themselves and combine when his startled gaze lands on Alucard's face, gauging the expression there. He thinks of how uncertain Alucard had been even about suggesting that they might be friends. He thinks of how lonely he must be, and how he might be aching, and how he probably has no one else to turn to.]
...You're not kidding.
[If Alucard's words are an idea, his own are a moment of quiet revelation. Still holding Alucard's hand, he sinks down onto one knee on the carpet in front of the loveseat, wanting to be lower than him, feeling more comfortable if he's the one looking up into his eyes.]
Tell me what's wrong.
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And here Jotaro is, kneeling in front of him, holding his hand. It's charming, it really is.]
It's like... I'm on fire, on the inside. I don't... [Alucard shudders, a little ashamed to even describe how he's feeling.] It feels like a deep itch I can't scratch on my own.
I'm sorry. You don't need to do anything. [His ears flatten against his head. This is his friend, and he can't be selfish to ask him to do that.]
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[The soothing, comforting noise that escapes his throat surprises even him as soon as he makes it; that wasn't him, not exactly, but it was, and that's...strange.]
I think — I think Sanguis is...made to take care of you. Iris. I feel...
[He hesitates, lost for words. Sentences that start with I feel are always so complicated, and this situation already feels like it's spiraling out of control and he's just along for the ride no matter what he does.]
I'm going crazy because I can tell there's something wrong. Like I can't help it. Like if I don't take care of you I'll lose my mind. But that's — Sanguis. And Iris.
[He closes his eyes, another of those little growls falling from his lips without meaning to.]
I need to know what you want me to do. If you need...that. Or I can try to calm you down without it.
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[In so many ways than just one. Their histories, their moonblessings -- how odd it's all turned out, but he would welcome whatever it is that Jotaro would give him. Anything at all.]
Come here. Please. Hold me. That... I think would be a good start.
[It could make it worse or make the heat better. He doesn't know. But it's worth trying.]
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[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.]
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The rumble is comforting, as is his warm hold. Alucard sighs and closes his eyes, nuzzling near. He still feels the distant discomfort of heat and want, but it's muted like this. And that's all he could ask for, truly.]
Good.
This is much, much better. Thank you.
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[It's mumbled, soft, breathy where he presses it against the skin of Alucard's neck; he's being good, holding him tight without letting his hands roam, because even if the wolf inside him is insisting that the bat is his, theirs, the part of him that isn't beholden to Sanguis still won't let this go even a fraction farther than Alucard is okay with.]
Can I bite you?
[His jaw aches. His teeth feel just the right amount of sharp. They would both feel better, something nags at him, if Alucard had the marks of his teeth in his skin.]
You'll feel better. I know you will.
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[The word escape him before he can even think about it. It's breathy and eager, but the sound of it -- Jotaro's fingers, his mouth, his teeth, all of it -- yes, he wants it. He wants it more than he can stand.]
Please. Touch me. Bite me.
[In what backwards place has he really ended up where a vampire pleads a human to do this? But it doesn't feel wrong, not in the least.]
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[Now at last, his fingers rake up Alucard's back, careful to avoid scratching too hard, but certainly leaving faint lines behind where the nails caught the skin. It's easy, too, to angle his chin just a little more and start to nibble at the column of his neck, like he's subconsciously trying to give Alucard the chance to acclimate to the feeling of his teeth before he really sets in.]
Hey. Do you...
[He turns his head, nips at Alucard's neck. Nips again, below his ear. Each new bite lands just a fraction sharper than the last.]
Do you still think about — with the antlers — when we —
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Jotaro.
[Alucard's voice is soft, almost needy.]
Yes. I do. I thought about it when you messaged me. When you came in.
Do you?
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[It's a lie, an obvious one. He's preoccupied with biting him, like he's still just testing out his jaws and the way his teeth feel when he puts in just enough pressure to make them start to sink into skin.]
— Yes. Yeah. A lot. So much. You acted like you thought I didn't want to.
[He runs his nails back down Alucard's back again, this time directly over his spine, from his shoulders to the small of his back.]
I didn't know if you were right about that. I kept thinking about it.
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...I'd assumed it was just the enchantment. That you wouldn't have, otherwise.
[Isn't he just a cold spot in a room, Alucard thinks distantly, still hurt by the memory. But then, it's not as if Jotaro's ever treated him that way. He always look for Alucard's company.
Alucard shivers again at the fingers running down his spine, down and so close and too close and not close enough. How ridiculously lucky, to have a friend like him.]
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He doesn't know for certain if there's a circumstance where he would've. It's not like he's looked at anybody in that way since he got here, or ever really did back home. He didn't just sit around thinking about kissing people and then...going and doing it.
But maybe that's not the right question anyway. Maybe it's about something different, and he draws back from Alucard's neck far enough to look at him properly.]
I didn't like it when it stopped. Didn't like that it stopped, I mean.
[That much, he knows for certain is true. Forget what he would've done or didn't do. How he felt about what did happen...that's more concrete.]
...You wanted me to do it again?
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...I do. But only if you also wanted to as well.
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