"Okay - okay. It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine!"
Alfred snaps the book in his hands shut, setting it aside on the little shelf he had by now filled in his room. It's been about a month now, a month of days almost entirely spent at Herbert's side. They had kissed by now, so many times...time has eroded most of the initial anxiety he felt at the vampire's touch, and he has learned not to flinch away from it, even to take comfort in it.
A few times, these cuddle sessions had gotten a little more heated, bodies winding together, but each time had ended the same way; Alfred stammering an apology, Herbert being sweet and patient about it, and then Alfred bringing himself off thinking about it when he had the privacy. Part of his hesitance is, of course, the fact that he had never been with another man before. Hell, he has never been with ANYONE before.
So he resolved to do the only thing he could think to.
Research.
Sighing to himself, he looks at the row of books on the shelf he just slipped the tome onto - romance novels, dissertations on the nature of sexual health...even a copy of the Kama Sutra he had had to shove behind his back when the Count had found him flushed and staring into the pages in the library. He's still nervous, still not sure what he's really doing...but it's time. He wants to try. He wants it to be special. Because there's something he...really needs to tell Herbert.
He leans against his closed door in the hallway to wait, trying his absolute best to look dashing, but feeling more than a little silly inside. Alfred needn't worry, mind you - he's dressed himself handsomely for this, wearing a deep crimson brocade tailcoat, tight black breeches, and oxblood red boots with a bit of a heel (He had read somewhere that heels accentuate one's rear end, and...well, he knows Herbert enjoys his.)
Doesn't stop his palms from being a bit clammy, though, or his throat from feeling dry. If he had a pulse anymore, it would be a mile a minute.
"You can do this, Alfred," he asserts to himself, furrowing his brow.
[NSFW] Tonight's the Night
Alfred snaps the book in his hands shut, setting it aside on the little shelf he had by now filled in his room. It's been about a month now, a month of days almost entirely spent at Herbert's side. They had kissed by now, so many times...time has eroded most of the initial anxiety he felt at the vampire's touch, and he has learned not to flinch away from it, even to take comfort in it.
A few times, these cuddle sessions had gotten a little more heated, bodies winding together, but each time had ended the same way; Alfred stammering an apology, Herbert being sweet and patient about it, and then Alfred bringing himself off thinking about it when he had the privacy. Part of his hesitance is, of course, the fact that he had never been with another man before. Hell, he has never been with ANYONE before.
So he resolved to do the only thing he could think to.
Research.
Sighing to himself, he looks at the row of books on the shelf he just slipped the tome onto - romance novels, dissertations on the nature of sexual health...even a copy of the Kama Sutra he had had to shove behind his back when the Count had found him flushed and staring into the pages in the library. He's still nervous, still not sure what he's really doing...but it's time. He wants to try. He wants it to be special. Because there's something he...really needs to tell Herbert.
He leans against his closed door in the hallway to wait, trying his absolute best to look dashing, but feeling more than a little silly inside. Alfred needn't worry, mind you - he's dressed himself handsomely for this, wearing a deep crimson brocade tailcoat, tight black breeches, and oxblood red boots with a bit of a heel (He had read somewhere that heels accentuate one's rear end, and...well, he knows Herbert enjoys his.)
Doesn't stop his palms from being a bit clammy, though, or his throat from feeling dry. If he had a pulse anymore, it would be a mile a minute.
"You can do this, Alfred," he asserts to himself, furrowing his brow.