"And now you're grown. Such a big strong man." He trails just the tips of his nails lightly over Alfred's neck, enjoying the noises he's able to elicit from him.
"Tip your head back for me, mon cheri. I'll wash all the shampoo out for you." He squeezes Alfred's shoulder, so, so tempted to lean in and lick that blood off his chin.
Nope, that's it, he can't recover from this. Somewhere in the back of his head, he's mortified that he is completely hard under the layer of bubbly water - it's really all he can do not to touch himself, given that Herbert's hearing would most CERTAINLY pick up on the splashing that would happen.
So now he has to just...live with that, breathing heavily and saying nothing as he keeps his eyes shut and tilts back his head obediently.
He's being teased, he gets that. But the way it feels....
He carefully pours more water over Alfred's hair, working his fingers through it. Massaging his scalp gently, trailing his nails down over his neck and shoulders before moving back up to his head.
Herbert can practically smell the lust coming off of Alfred. The sheer need and want in the expression on his face, the way he's breathing. Herbert wants him. Wants to climb into the tub and just --
Oh, this is getting unbearable. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, every touch, every little scratch of Herbert's nails against his scalp, his neck sends a thrill of heat down through him, the breaths his body still needs to take for now coming in low, shuddering thrums.
He just - he can't help it. He feels more hot blooded than he did before, maybe, or maybe there's another reason -
But slowly, trying to be subtle about it, he slides a hand across the bottom of the tub, making his way towards touching. He opens his eyes a little, heavy and half-lidded, face flushed, lips parted and still bleeding, gazing up at Herbert....
It's too much. How is he meant to resist all that? The blood on his lips, that sultry, half lidded gaze. The beautiful way his pale skin pinkens. Herbert shucks his shirt aside, barely making it out of his trousers before he's in the tub and straddling Alfred.
He smears his thumb through the blood on Alfred's lips and licks it off with moan of relief and pleasure. Finally able to taste some part of him. "I want very badly to kiss you right now, my sweet Alfred." Since the boy probably deserves some sort of warning before Herbert descends upon him.
Everything happens so fast, he almost can't parse it - one moment he's trying to sneak his hand around himself, the next Herbert is naked and sliding into the water over him. Panicked, he moves his hand away, twitching and hissing at the barest graze of pale thigh against his erection.
It frightens him a little, watching the vampire lick his blood from his finger like that...but it's not entirely as offputting as it had been before.
This is...so much, so fast, and his words aren't working, but he's being asked for consent and -
"...O-okay." Tiny, scared, shy...but hoarse with arousal all the same, eyes locked upon Herbert's, falling into them.
It's happened so quickly that his socks are still on, but it's fine. It's all wonderful because Alfred said yes and Hebert cards a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
He groans at the taste of blood, at the taste of Alfred underneath the blood, at the feeling of Alfred's muscular little body underneath his own, the scent of roses in the air. "I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you out in the snow," he sighs against Alfred's mouth.
Oh...wow. The kiss is - it's overwhelming, but it's warm, it's nice (even with that stupid snaggletoothed fang in the way), and the way Herbert works a hand through his hair has him groaning against his lips. He doesn't so much reciprocate just yet, but he doesn't pull away...in fact, he writhes a little under the larger man, shuddering as he feels himself grind against skin still a little chilly through the warm water.
He pants, anxiety and lust fighting a battle on his face.
"...Y-you mean...wh-when I was...looking...for - mnh - the P-Professor...?"
"Mmhm." He strokes his fingers over Alfred's cheeks, nodding faintly, brushing their lips together lightly. "I saw you out there, with the snowflakes stuck to your beautiful lashes. With your scarf around your head to keep your ears warm, and all I wanted to do was bundle you up and take you home. But Father said I ought to wait, and invite you to the ball instead.
I'm so glad you're here, now. And I'm going to take such good care of you."
Part of him finds that thought absolutely terrifying - the thought of being marked before he even knew it, strung along like a little puppet until he was where Herbert had wanted him. Was there any choice? What if they hadn't gone after Sarah, would he have been kidnapped?
...But the other part of him...is a little bit flattered, strangely. Standing out there in the snow, he had worried about being forgotten if the Professor was gone. Now here's someone who had seen him then...and had wanted HIM.
It's confusing, and he looks Herbert in the eyes again, starting to tremble a little anew. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows audibly, trying with all his might to keep his hips still, not to just start grinding, not to reach out because - because it's soon, it's fast, he had only just learned being with another man was even an OPTION for him, and even if he HAD known that, he's never even -
A little whine escapes him, and he suddenly tilts his head, burying his face in Herbert's neck, embarrassed.
"Oh you beautiful, lovely, wonderful boy," Herbert coos, and strokes his hair gently, wrapping an arm around him to hold him close. They can take this slow, he tells himself. Alfred has never been with a man before, after all. And he's only just been turned. So much is so new for the poor thing.
He's not sure what would have happened, if they hadn't come to the castle to rescue Sarah. Perhaps Herbert would have gone to him in the night, as Georg had with Sarah. Tried to lure him out somehow. To coax him into coming to the ball with him.
For now, he strokes his hand over the back of Alfred's neck, his shoulder, over his -- oh, very lovely -- bicep. "You could kiss me, if you wanted. Or we could get out of the tub and lie together in bed until we have to go down to the crypt."
It actually takes him a while to pull himself away from Herbert's neck - nose and mouth just pressed to his cool skin, breathing him in. It's strange...maybe it's his senses already beginning to sharpen, or maybe it's just that his first memory of their dance, of being close had imprinted upon him more deeply than he might have admitted; the scent of the vampire is heady to him, floral, steeped in oils and colognes, tinted with something else he can't quite name -
Whatever it is, Alfred finds that...he likes it. He purrs in his throat as he is pet, feeling the gentle graze of Herbert's nails, and his hips twitch again, giving him just a tiny thrill of friction before he keens softly and stops himself.
It's good, that he is being understood. As much as he may want (or even need - he throbs guiltily beneath the other man) release right now, he just...isn't ready, not for EVERYTHING.
So, drawing in a shaky breath, he pulls back finally, but not without placing a fluttering, lush little kiss against Herbert's throat.
And that kiss is rewarded with a low, needy noise. His hips shift a little, enough that their lengths slide together momentarily and Herbert hisses through his teeth at the feeling of it but he can behave. For Alfred, he can be good.
"Let's -- " His voice cracks slightly and he clears his throat, smiling down at Alfred and caressing his cheek tenderly. "Let's dry off, then. And we can lie in bed until sunrise. How are you feeling, mon cheri? Warmer, I hope. You're certainly looking better than you were at the door."
The friction catches Alfred off guard and he moans loudly right back - but then Herbert is pulling back, being...gentle. Respectful. It's...surprisingly sweet, given the circumstances, and he finds himself leaning his cheek into the cool hand.
"...I...I feel b-" He pauses, seeming to realize something, and with a moment of focus, FINALLY puts that second fang away, sighing with relief.
"I feel better...yes. Th-thank you. I think...I think your...blood...helped."
And if that didn't, he definitely feels warmer NOW for Other Reasons.
"I could hardly let you starve. Tomorrow, I'll hunt for us both, no worries, dear thing." He giggles a little when he sees Alfred finally correct his fangs, and climbs out of the tub. Luckily he has large, fluffy towels nearby, and wraps one around his waist. Then he fetches his equally luxurious looking robe and holds it out for Alfred to take whenever he's ready to come out of the tub.
"You can borrow some nightclothes from me. Though they might be a little big on you."
"...Thank you. I...I don't know if I'll be able to...to do that...yet."
It's his turn to stare a little bit as Herbert gets out of the bath...he tries not to, he really does, but that last rush of friction is haunting him, even as he tries to calm.
Some day. Maybe. Just not yet.
Timidly, he stands up, a little wobbly in the knees as he wraps himself in the oversized robe. At least it's room-y enough to obscure his too-slowly-shrinking-erection. Smiling a bashful little smile, he looks to Herbert with a little shrug. "...I don't mind. I...I usually just slept in my clothes, travelling with the Professor."
Herbert look appalled, pressing a hand to his chest and tutting and shaking his head. "Oh no, that won't do. That won't do at all! No, you'll only have the best, in our home. Even if you have to tailor it a bit, you can have anything at all that you like from my wardrobe."
He strides forward and takes Alfred's hands in his, kissing his fingers fervently. "I adore you, Alfred. I never want you to think of yourself as less than. And I'll do whatever I can to make you feel wanted and appreciated."
"I am, I promise you I am," he nods, giving Alfred's hands a squeeze. He can feel the urge to sleep coming on as well, but he wants to spend as much time as he can with Alfred before they need to retire to the crypt.
"I will try to make it not so scary for you. There are parts that will be frightening, but I'll be by your side the whole time."
The difference from when he had first arrived such a short time ago is so stark - he's not shaking anymore, standing in front of the other vampire and just...smiling. It helps, knowing he won't be alone.
Now that the heat of the moment is more fully subsiding, though, he definitely feels...different. His smile flickers a little, just a little, before he coaxes it back, pushing forward a little to lean against Herbert.
"...Can we...go lie down, like you said? I'm feeling...I'm feeling sort of tired, now that I'm not so cold."
He has no idea what's starting to happen, or he would no doubt begin to panic anew - but Herbert will probably be able to hear his pulse, quickened by lust in the bath, now starting to beat slower, slower, by degrees.
Oh dear -- yes, they need to get Alfred into the crypt. Soon. He gives Alfred one of his dazzling smiles and rubs his hands over the boy's arms.
"Let's get you into some pyjamas." He hurries to his closet and swiftly pulls on his own night clothes, then gets some for Alfred as well. He pulls Alfred out of his robe and helps him into the pyjama top and bottoms, fussing with his still-damp hair a little.
"We ought to start moving downstairs. Now -- " He sighs and presses a kiss to Alfred's forehead. "This part might be a little -- well it's all new, isn't it? But I promise it's perfectly normal and I'll be right here with you the entire time."
There is a faintly dazed expression on the boy as he stands there, simply allowing Herbert to tend to him. He does not flinch as he is stripped and redressed, does little more than faintly purr when his hair is fussed with - something is happening, that much is becoming clear but he doesn't know what. Maybe it's just sunrise approaching.
It isn't until Herbert kisses his forehead, sighing, that a needle of fear pierces the fog.
"Might be a little what?" His voice is thin, he finds, when he tries to speak. His hand flutters to his throat as he tries to suck in a breath, finding that it sticks and rattles in his lungs.
"I know, I know my darling. I'm so sorry." He strokes Alfred's cheeks, his shoulders, trying to comfort him somehow. "It's always so hard, this first night. Your body is dying, my love. To complete the transformation. And it's going to feel frightening, maybe even a little painful. But I'm not going to leave your side, I swear it.
Come, let's make our way down to the crypt, so we can get you comfortable."
The word falls hard against his ears, and the haze yields now to full terror.
Dying.
The panic doesn't do much to make the labor of breathing easier - it feels like there is a hand inside his ribcage, slowly squeezing tighter each time he exhales.
A frail whimper is all he can manage, a high, piteous cry as he responds with a terrified nod, reaching out to clutch white-knuckled at Herbert's hand. His eyes are wide and full of tears.
"I know." Herbert feels awful for Alfred. The dear boy deserves better than this. So he scoops him up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. "I've got you, Alfred. I'm not going to let you go. I'll hold you the whole time, I swear it."
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"Tip your head back for me, mon cheri. I'll wash all the shampoo out for you." He squeezes Alfred's shoulder, so, so tempted to lean in and lick that blood off his chin.
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So now he has to just...live with that, breathing heavily and saying nothing as he keeps his eyes shut and tilts back his head obediently.
He's being teased, he gets that. But the way it feels....
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Herbert can practically smell the lust coming off of Alfred. The sheer need and want in the expression on his face, the way he's breathing. Herbert wants him. Wants to climb into the tub and just --
But no. He'll wait. He'll be good.
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He just - he can't help it. He feels more hot blooded than he did before, maybe, or maybe there's another reason -
But slowly, trying to be subtle about it, he slides a hand across the bottom of the tub, making his way towards touching. He opens his eyes a little, heavy and half-lidded, face flushed, lips parted and still bleeding, gazing up at Herbert....
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He smears his thumb through the blood on Alfred's lips and licks it off with moan of relief and pleasure. Finally able to taste some part of him. "I want very badly to kiss you right now, my sweet Alfred." Since the boy probably deserves some sort of warning before Herbert descends upon him.
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It frightens him a little, watching the vampire lick his blood from his finger like that...but it's not entirely as offputting as it had been before.
This is...so much, so fast, and his words aren't working, but he's being asked for consent and -
"...O-okay." Tiny, scared, shy...but hoarse with arousal all the same, eyes locked upon Herbert's, falling into them.
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He groans at the taste of blood, at the taste of Alfred underneath the blood, at the feeling of Alfred's muscular little body underneath his own, the scent of roses in the air. "I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you out in the snow," he sighs against Alfred's mouth.
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He pants, anxiety and lust fighting a battle on his face.
"...Y-you mean...wh-when I was...looking...for - mnh - the P-Professor...?"
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I'm so glad you're here, now. And I'm going to take such good care of you."
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Part of him finds that thought absolutely terrifying - the thought of being marked before he even knew it, strung along like a little puppet until he was where Herbert had wanted him. Was there any choice? What if they hadn't gone after Sarah, would he have been kidnapped?
...But the other part of him...is a little bit flattered, strangely. Standing out there in the snow, he had worried about being forgotten if the Professor was gone. Now here's someone who had seen him then...and had wanted HIM.
It's confusing, and he looks Herbert in the eyes again, starting to tremble a little anew. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows audibly, trying with all his might to keep his hips still, not to just start grinding, not to reach out because - because it's soon, it's fast, he had only just learned being with another man was even an OPTION for him, and even if he HAD known that, he's never even -
A little whine escapes him, and he suddenly tilts his head, burying his face in Herbert's neck, embarrassed.
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He's not sure what would have happened, if they hadn't come to the castle to rescue Sarah. Perhaps Herbert would have gone to him in the night, as Georg had with Sarah. Tried to lure him out somehow. To coax him into coming to the ball with him.
For now, he strokes his hand over the back of Alfred's neck, his shoulder, over his -- oh, very lovely -- bicep. "You could kiss me, if you wanted. Or we could get out of the tub and lie together in bed until we have to go down to the crypt."
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Whatever it is, Alfred finds that...he likes it. He purrs in his throat as he is pet, feeling the gentle graze of Herbert's nails, and his hips twitch again, giving him just a tiny thrill of friction before he keens softly and stops himself.
It's good, that he is being understood. As much as he may want (or even need - he throbs guiltily beneath the other man) release right now, he just...isn't ready, not for EVERYTHING.
So, drawing in a shaky breath, he pulls back finally, but not without placing a fluttering, lush little kiss against Herbert's throat.
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"Let's -- " His voice cracks slightly and he clears his throat, smiling down at Alfred and caressing his cheek tenderly. "Let's dry off, then. And we can lie in bed until sunrise. How are you feeling, mon cheri? Warmer, I hope. You're certainly looking better than you were at the door."
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"...I...I feel b-" He pauses, seeming to realize something, and with a moment of focus, FINALLY puts that second fang away, sighing with relief.
"I feel better...yes. Th-thank you. I think...I think your...blood...helped."
And if that didn't, he definitely feels warmer NOW for Other Reasons.
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"You can borrow some nightclothes from me. Though they might be a little big on you."
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It's his turn to stare a little bit as Herbert gets out of the bath...he tries not to, he really does, but that last rush of friction is haunting him, even as he tries to calm.
Some day. Maybe. Just not yet.
Timidly, he stands up, a little wobbly in the knees as he wraps himself in the oversized robe. At least it's room-y enough to obscure his too-slowly-shrinking-erection. Smiling a bashful little smile, he looks to Herbert with a little shrug. "...I don't mind. I...I usually just slept in my clothes, travelling with the Professor."
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He strides forward and takes Alfred's hands in his, kissing his fingers fervently. "I adore you, Alfred. I never want you to think of yourself as less than. And I'll do whatever I can to make you feel wanted and appreciated."
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He really does.
Slowly, his smile grows, exhausted but sincere. It must be approaching daylight by now, he thinks. He's starting to feel a little bit tired.
"...You're...you're really nice, Herbert. This is...much less scary than I thought it was going to be."
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"I will try to make it not so scary for you. There are parts that will be frightening, but I'll be by your side the whole time."
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Now that the heat of the moment is more fully subsiding, though, he definitely feels...different. His smile flickers a little, just a little, before he coaxes it back, pushing forward a little to lean against Herbert.
"...Can we...go lie down, like you said? I'm feeling...I'm feeling sort of tired, now that I'm not so cold."
He has no idea what's starting to happen, or he would no doubt begin to panic anew - but Herbert will probably be able to hear his pulse, quickened by lust in the bath, now starting to beat slower, slower, by degrees.
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"Let's get you into some pyjamas." He hurries to his closet and swiftly pulls on his own night clothes, then gets some for Alfred as well. He pulls Alfred out of his robe and helps him into the pyjama top and bottoms, fussing with his still-damp hair a little.
"We ought to start moving downstairs. Now -- " He sighs and presses a kiss to Alfred's forehead. "This part might be a little -- well it's all new, isn't it? But I promise it's perfectly normal and I'll be right here with you the entire time."
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It isn't until Herbert kisses his forehead, sighing, that a needle of fear pierces the fog.
"Might be a little what?" His voice is thin, he finds, when he tries to speak. His hand flutters to his throat as he tries to suck in a breath, finding that it sticks and rattles in his lungs.
"Herbert? I don't...my chest feels...tight...."
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Come, let's make our way down to the crypt, so we can get you comfortable."
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Dying.
The panic doesn't do much to make the labor of breathing easier - it feels like there is a hand inside his ribcage, slowly squeezing tighter each time he exhales.
A frail whimper is all he can manage, a high, piteous cry as he responds with a terrified nod, reaching out to clutch white-knuckled at Herbert's hand. His eyes are wide and full of tears.
Please don't let me go.
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