"You've been so generous, and I...I appreciate it." Centuries. He's been a vampire for centuries. That's...well, there's a little more pressure over the gift now, isn't there?
Resting his free hand on the doorknob, he swallows hard, glancing to Herbert a moment before pushing the door open.
The room itself has been scrubbed and polished within an inch of its life, furniture treated with oil, bedspread immaculately mended and made. He's given himself a desk, which has stacks of papers in neat piles, and an upright piano sits in the corner, tuning supplies in a basket on top.
Over by the window, something stands covered by a sheet on an easel - another basket of paints and brushes on a small table beside it.
"Uh. Come in. It's...well, I'm still settling into it, trying to make it feel...like myself, I guess?"
"Thank you," he squeaks, closing the door behind them. This was probably going to be a pretty private moment, but not for the reasons Herbert might think. "It's kept me busy."
Moving to the easel, he shrugs a little, looking bashful. "I...I play piano, violin, and guitar," he admits, unable to meet Herbert's eyes. Steeling himself.
"But like I said, I...I had something to ask you?"
He clutches the edge of the sheet on the canvas, white knuckled.
Herbert gives a little gasp, pressing a hand to his chest and looking suitably impressed. "We'll have to find you a violin and a guitar, then." Honestly, he'd get anything Alfred asked for. He deserves to be happy, and have fun, and do what he wants to do.
"Of course, you can ask me absolutely anything. Anytime."
Biting his lip, he pulls the sheet - revealing the painting beneath. It's a portrait, but not the stuffy sort of thing dispassionately hung over a mantle as a vanity piece...no, the subject is smiling, eyes sparkling, full of life and full of love. Pale skin painted carefully with makeup, white hair drawn back and cascading into dark locks, rendered with the most careful hand.
It's Herbert. Painted by someone who had paid so, so much attention to everything about him.
Smiling nervously, Alfred turns around, his voice timid.
"...Could you...sit for me? So I can finish the details on this?"
For once, Herbert is stunned into silence. He hasn't been able to look in a mirror in centuries, he'd nearly forgotten what he looks like. His father helps him with his hair and makeup most nights, so that he can look nice for Alfred. He's touched. Honoured, and he touches his hand to his mouth, lips parted slightly in awe.
"Is that what I look like?" he half whispers. "Oh, Alfred..."
The reaction is enough to immediately put set butterflies loose in Alfred's stomach - but his smile grows a little bit, and he steps a little closer to the vampire, hands fidgeting in front of him.
"...It is. I hope you like it, I - I know you can't look in a mirror, so I thought I would...show you what I see. You know. When you look at me."
Once he feels like he can move again, he strides across the room and cups Alfred's face, kissing him firmly on the mouth. "It's wonderful. It's beautiful. I adore it. I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me."
He'd had a string of lovers over the past few centuries, but they were all shallow, vain things. Not unlike himself. He can't think of a single one of them who would do something this heartfelt for him.
By degrees, Alfred has gotten less and less reticent about Herbert's affections - this time, when he is kissed, his breath hitches in surprise, but he doesn't pull away, eyes fluttering briefly shut.
"I'm glad. I'm so glad. You...well, you've done so much for me, Herbert. You've been kinder to me than...maybe...anyone has. In my life. This was - the least I could do, I thought. Something someone else maybe couldn't give you?"
Bashful, he looks back towards the painting.
"But I need you to sit for me while I detail your eyes. I...I haven't quite finished them. They're not quite right yet, yours are much more beautiful-"
He freezes, putting his hand over his mouth.
Too used to being told expressing affections out loud like that isn't Proper.
"Mine are -- " He presses a hand to his mouth, blinking away tears, but one escapes and rolls down his cheek. Bright red against his pale skin. He flicks it away and takes a deep (though unnecessary) breath, trying to smile for Alfred. Because he is happy, just -- emotional.
"Why are you so lovely? Every time you speak, I fall in love with you a little more."
This is a sweet and tender moment - but the sight of the blood running down Herbert's cheek causes a spike of alarm in the much younger vampire. Without hesitating, without thinking, he moves forward, cupping Herbert's face gently in both hands to look closely at him.
It's not a surprise that Alfred is nervous, easily frightened...but this is the first time since he's met Herbert that he's reached out like this, in action, without questioning himself first. That he's been scared, but not for himself. His own eyes are wet with concern.
"Oh, Herbert - you're bleeding! What's wrong? Are you okay? What can I do?"
"Bleeding?" His brows knit in confusion for a moment before he realizes -- his tears. "Oh! It happens, as you get to be older. I don't know quite how to explain it -- but gradually, after I became a vampire, I stopped crying tears like a human did. This is how I cry now.
But oh, you sweet thing, don't worry for me. It's only because I'm happy. And -- very touched. This is a lovely gift you've given me. Yes, yes of course I'd be happy to sit for you."
"Hhhhhhhh - oh. Oh, okay," he hisses in a sigh of relief, visibly calming down. He doesn't quite remove his hands yet, though, now that they're there...he slides his fingers along Herbert's cheeks, his cheekbones, his jawline, the look in his eyes shifting from panic over to...something else. Something studious, like he's trying to learn the contours of the vampire's face by touch.
And then all at once he realizes what he's doing, letting out a nervous little laugh and pulling back, sheepish.
"I...okay, just - pull up a chair, right...right next to me, and I'll finish it."
Herbert holds very still, letting Alfred explore his face. Like he's trying to memorize him somehow. And he finds he quite likes that, the studious care that Alfred takes in learning his face.
Then Alfred pulls his hands back and Herbert catches one of them, kissing his fingertips. "How am I possibly meant to hold still when I know your fingers feel like that against my skin? I won't be able to stop watching your hands. Waiting for the moment when you touch me again."
That little kiss. Sort of like when they meant, isn't it?
But this time, instead of wanting to recoil, he...feels something warm flutter inside him. Impulse strikes once more, and he grasps Herbert's hand, pulling it to him and resting a tiny, chaste little kiss on the back.
He doesn't say anything to the flirting - so he lets that say what he can't, gaze dipping downward as he moves to pull out the correct paints and brush from his little basket, the tips of his ears very red even with his back turned.
His sweet, shy boy. It's lovely, that little kiss. He can feel it still, against his skin, as he sits. It's something he'll be thinking about for days to come.
Herbert usually moves much faster than this. He gets bored easily, so he'd rather bed them and move on. Usually. But Alfred is different. Alfred is special. Alfred is... nice. Herbert's never been with a nice boy before.
Once Herbert settles, Alfred calms...and, steadying himself, he sets to work. The tremors in his hands still as he sets to careful brush strokes, every touch gentle, careful. Tracing the lines he had just learned against the vampire's skin, rendering him in paint.
He looks over, every so often, to compare what he is doing to his subject. And every time he does...every time, he wears a soft little smile.
Alfred has never been with a man before. He's never flirted with one, never slept in one's arms. But in spite of all this, in spite of what had brought him here, he finds that he is...starting to feel at home. Not necessarily in the castle, but....
Herbert. Herbert is beginning to feel like home.
So if he's going to do this, he's going to do what feels right. He's going to be a gentleman, and he's going to treat Herbert like....
"...You look like a Prince," he mumbles, absently, lost in his thoughts. "Out of a fairy tale."
"A prince!" Herbert looks delighted, fanning himself a little, trying not to feel too flustered. Alfred treats him so well. Herbert isn't very good at it yet, but Alfred is teaching him how to sew. How to embroider and make pretty things. And he loves it. He loves who he is around Alfred.
No one's every painted his portrait. Oh -- perhaps many years ago, there was a family portrait. When his mother was still alive. But no one's painted him simply because they want to. Because it makes them happy.
"I have to keep you around, now. You're a great boost to my self confidence.
"Mhm," he affirms, the little smile on his face widening. It's...sort of fun, making Herbert smile like this. Maybe there's something to this whole courting thing, even if his personal approach is...a bit gentler.
The second comment, though, stings a little, echoes of old hurt crossing his face in little shadows as he works.
"... You're the first person who has really... wanted to keep me around at all, I think. So maybe it's good for mine, too."
"I very much like having you around. You've taught me new things. Made me feel useful. And besides that, I enjoy your company."
His father has such a magnetic draw that people seem unable to resist. He always has, even before they were turned. Herbert always felt the need to do everything grander, brighter, just to be noticed. But Alfred notices him without all that. It's a nice feeling.
He looks up at Herbert right at those words, clearly understanding them, feeling them. The force of them chases some of those shadows away, and that tiny little smile draws out into an incandescent grin.
He's always felt somewhat in his father's shadow. His father, who can so effortlessly win over mortals while Herbert often ends up having to eat his intended because he doesn't have Georg's natural charm.
But Alfred lets him be himself. His whole self, even when he's too much.
"I enjoy it when you smile. You have such a lovely smile, Alfred. I want to make you smile more."
He spends a moment thinking about this - about how doting Herbert has been, about how he's never come first in anyone's life before. Has anyone ever actually told him they want him to be happy? Not his parents. They always told him what would be best, not what would make him happy. Not the Professor. He concerned himself with what would be best for HIMSELF, not for Alfred. Never poor, forgotten, scared little Alfred.
But here, of all people, is a vampire. A male vampire, telling him he has a lovely smile. That he wants to make that smile happen more often.
He starts to move back to the canvas, but pauses - and turning his head back to look at his subject, he draws a breath and speaks, directly, calmly: "You know...I'm still afraid, Herbert. I think I can never really be completely unafraid. I don't think I have it in me. But...I think...."
A tear runs down his face, still young, still clear.
"Even if you're never unafraid, I hope I can help you be less afraid, at least about certain things. I hope that I can help bolster your confidence a little, and be the brave man I know you can be."
He leans in and kisses that tearstained cheek, resting a hand against his knee and squeezing lightly. Just wanting to touch him. To be close. "You make me so happy, Alfred. And even happier to know that you're happy, too. Your happiness means everything to me."
"...You already have, you know. I...I feel...like myself? Like I'm...me, now. That...probably seems silly."
Setting the paintbrush and palette aside for a moment, he strides right up to where Herbert is sitting, wrapping his arms suddenly around the larger vampire's shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of his head.
"It's nice, feeling...important to someone. It's nice seeing you happy, Engel."
The endearment tumbles out suddenly, and he's glad he's not looking Herbert in the face as he reddens.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-11-21 08:17 pm (UTC)Resting his free hand on the doorknob, he swallows hard, glancing to Herbert a moment before pushing the door open.
The room itself has been scrubbed and polished within an inch of its life, furniture treated with oil, bedspread immaculately mended and made. He's given himself a desk, which has stacks of papers in neat piles, and an upright piano sits in the corner, tuning supplies in a basket on top.
Over by the window, something stands covered by a sheet on an easel - another basket of paints and brushes on a small table beside it.
"Uh. Come in. It's...well, I'm still settling into it, trying to make it feel...like myself, I guess?"
no subject
Date: 2021-11-22 06:25 am (UTC)He notices the piano tuning equipment, as well as the painting supplies. "Oh my, are you an artiste?"
no subject
Date: 2021-11-22 06:41 am (UTC)Moving to the easel, he shrugs a little, looking bashful. "I...I play piano, violin, and guitar," he admits, unable to meet Herbert's eyes. Steeling himself.
"But like I said, I...I had something to ask you?"
He clutches the edge of the sheet on the canvas, white knuckled.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 04:52 am (UTC)"Of course, you can ask me absolutely anything. Anytime."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 04:59 am (UTC)Biting his lip, he pulls the sheet - revealing the painting beneath. It's a portrait, but not the stuffy sort of thing dispassionately hung over a mantle as a vanity piece...no, the subject is smiling, eyes sparkling, full of life and full of love. Pale skin painted carefully with makeup, white hair drawn back and cascading into dark locks, rendered with the most careful hand.
It's Herbert. Painted by someone who had paid so, so much attention to everything about him.
Smiling nervously, Alfred turns around, his voice timid.
"...Could you...sit for me? So I can finish the details on this?"
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 05:17 am (UTC)"Is that what I look like?" he half whispers. "Oh, Alfred..."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 05:55 am (UTC)"...It is. I hope you like it, I - I know you can't look in a mirror, so I thought I would...show you what I see. You know. When you look at me."
The meaning goes unsaid, but it's clear.
This is more than just a gift of thanks.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 06:05 am (UTC)He'd had a string of lovers over the past few centuries, but they were all shallow, vain things. Not unlike himself. He can't think of a single one of them who would do something this heartfelt for him.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-23 06:31 am (UTC)"I'm glad. I'm so glad. You...well, you've done so much for me, Herbert. You've been kinder to me than...maybe...anyone has. In my life. This was - the least I could do, I thought. Something someone else maybe couldn't give you?"
Bashful, he looks back towards the painting.
"But I need you to sit for me while I detail your eyes. I...I haven't quite finished them. They're not quite right yet, yours are much more beautiful-"
He freezes, putting his hand over his mouth.
Too used to being told expressing affections out loud like that isn't Proper.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 06:07 am (UTC)"Why are you so lovely? Every time you speak, I fall in love with you a little more."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 06:21 am (UTC)It's not a surprise that Alfred is nervous, easily frightened...but this is the first time since he's met Herbert that he's reached out like this, in action, without questioning himself first. That he's been scared, but not for himself. His own eyes are wet with concern.
"Oh, Herbert - you're bleeding! What's wrong? Are you okay? What can I do?"
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 07:05 am (UTC)But oh, you sweet thing, don't worry for me. It's only because I'm happy. And -- very touched. This is a lovely gift you've given me. Yes, yes of course I'd be happy to sit for you."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 07:15 am (UTC)And then all at once he realizes what he's doing, letting out a nervous little laugh and pulling back, sheepish.
"I...okay, just - pull up a chair, right...right next to me, and I'll finish it."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 07:32 am (UTC)Then Alfred pulls his hands back and Herbert catches one of them, kissing his fingertips. "How am I possibly meant to hold still when I know your fingers feel like that against my skin? I won't be able to stop watching your hands. Waiting for the moment when you touch me again."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 07:48 am (UTC)But this time, instead of wanting to recoil, he...feels something warm flutter inside him. Impulse strikes once more, and he grasps Herbert's hand, pulling it to him and resting a tiny, chaste little kiss on the back.
He doesn't say anything to the flirting - so he lets that say what he can't, gaze dipping downward as he moves to pull out the correct paints and brush from his little basket, the tips of his ears very red even with his back turned.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 08:02 am (UTC)Herbert usually moves much faster than this. He gets bored easily, so he'd rather bed them and move on. Usually. But Alfred is different. Alfred is special. Alfred is... nice. Herbert's never been with a nice boy before.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 08:16 am (UTC)He looks over, every so often, to compare what he is doing to his subject. And every time he does...every time, he wears a soft little smile.
Alfred has never been with a man before. He's never flirted with one, never slept in one's arms. But in spite of all this, in spite of what had brought him here, he finds that he is...starting to feel at home. Not necessarily in the castle, but....
Herbert. Herbert is beginning to feel like home.
So if he's going to do this, he's going to do what feels right. He's going to be a gentleman, and he's going to treat Herbert like....
"...You look like a Prince," he mumbles, absently, lost in his thoughts. "Out of a fairy tale."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 01:18 pm (UTC)No one's every painted his portrait. Oh -- perhaps many years ago, there was a family portrait. When his mother was still alive. But no one's painted him simply because they want to. Because it makes them happy.
"I have to keep you around, now. You're a great boost to my self confidence.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 06:33 pm (UTC)The second comment, though, stings a little, echoes of old hurt crossing his face in little shadows as he works.
"... You're the first person who has really... wanted to keep me around at all, I think. So maybe it's good for mine, too."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 09:59 pm (UTC)His father has such a magnetic draw that people seem unable to resist. He always has, even before they were turned. Herbert always felt the need to do everything grander, brighter, just to be noticed. But Alfred notices him without all that. It's a nice feeling.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-24 10:33 pm (UTC)He looks up at Herbert right at those words, clearly understanding them, feeling them. The force of them chases some of those shadows away, and that tiny little smile draws out into an incandescent grin.
"I enjoy your company, too, Herbert. Very much."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-25 06:30 am (UTC)But Alfred lets him be himself. His whole self, even when he's too much.
"I enjoy it when you smile. You have such a lovely smile, Alfred. I want to make you smile more."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-25 07:06 am (UTC)But here, of all people, is a vampire. A male vampire, telling him he has a lovely smile. That he wants to make that smile happen more often.
He starts to move back to the canvas, but pauses - and turning his head back to look at his subject, he draws a breath and speaks, directly, calmly: "You know...I'm still afraid, Herbert. I think I can never really be completely unafraid. I don't think I have it in me. But...I think...."
A tear runs down his face, still young, still clear.
"I think I'm...happy, here. With you."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-28 07:47 pm (UTC)He leans in and kisses that tearstained cheek, resting a hand against his knee and squeezing lightly. Just wanting to touch him. To be close. "You make me so happy, Alfred. And even happier to know that you're happy, too. Your happiness means everything to me."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-28 08:29 pm (UTC)Setting the paintbrush and palette aside for a moment, he strides right up to where Herbert is sitting, wrapping his arms suddenly around the larger vampire's shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of his head.
"It's nice, feeling...important to someone. It's nice seeing you happy, Engel."
The endearment tumbles out suddenly, and he's glad he's not looking Herbert in the face as he reddens.
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