[Even as he says that, he wonders. It's deep, deeper than Trevor is playing it off to be. Deep enough that his vampiric instincts are howling at him to dive in, but he ignores them. What is a vampire but a miserable pile of barely-suppressed instincts and all that.
He tugs out a potion that acts more or less like peasant antiseptic (the worst thing about living with his father: he'd gotten used to having much more refined materials). This will hurt, but he doesn't bother to warn Trevor. Just smears it on a cloth and, his hand gentle, sets it on his chest.
His other hand reaches over Trevor's body, gripping his hip lightly-- not to keep him still, but just to steady them both. He's warm beneath his palm, and Alucard can feel his own body heating up in direct response.]
But perhaps it will, and we'll match.
[He can feel his eyes on his face, and an odd smirk quirks on his lips.]
no subject
[Even as he says that, he wonders. It's deep, deeper than Trevor is playing it off to be. Deep enough that his vampiric instincts are howling at him to dive in, but he ignores them. What is a vampire but a miserable pile of barely-suppressed instincts and all that.
He tugs out a potion that acts more or less like peasant antiseptic (the worst thing about living with his father: he'd gotten used to having much more refined materials). This will hurt, but he doesn't bother to warn Trevor. Just smears it on a cloth and, his hand gentle, sets it on his chest.
His other hand reaches over Trevor's body, gripping his hip lightly-- not to keep him still, but just to steady them both. He's warm beneath his palm, and Alucard can feel his own body heating up in direct response.]
But perhaps it will, and we'll match.
[He can feel his eyes on his face, and an odd smirk quirks on his lips.]
Would you like that?