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You'll Be Wanting to Use that Later

By: DreadfulPenny
folder Hellsing › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating: Adult
Chapters: 1
Views: 4,991
Reviews: 2
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

You'll Be Wanting to Use that Later

So, as Hunting the Hunter demonstrates, my attempts at PWP usually go awry. This is another example of that, this time in a different direction. The thing that happened here was that I didn't want to write just another "suck and fuck" fic. So I didn't.
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The path was empty and clearly illuminated by the full moon; the only thing moving was grass as a breeze riffled through it; the night sounds of insects and animals rustling in the undergrowth continued without interruption.

Walter was bored out of his bloody mind.

The movies never showed Abraham van Helsing and his various assistants sitting around ready to fall asleep while they waited for their prey. That wouldn’t really sell tickets, now would it?

They also couldn’t show a hunter ready to simply murder for a smoke. He’d been crouched behind his boulder for hours and he couldn’t light up or the vampire he was waiting for would smell it in an instant – even if he was downwind from the path he expected it to take.

He was bored, he desperately wanted a cigarette, he was dozing off, and that ruddy vampire was late.

The young butler had just turned his mind to household accounts in a, one could argue, misguided attempt to keep himself awake when a light touch to his leg under his trousers stiffened his back. Alucard. He opened his mouth to say something when his partner’s cold hand closed over his mouth.

Not a sound, Angel. Do you want your prey to hear you?

He wasn’t sure if he hated or loved Alucard’s voice in his head. It wasn’t a sound, it was more a sensation as the words insinuated themselves into his mind. It was as intimate as anything else the two of them ever did – as intimate as the touch under his trousers that was now travelling lightly up the inside of his thigh toward his groin. Now was not the time for these games, but he didn’t signal for a stop.

Instead, he shook his head, eyes still fixed on the path the vampire was supposed to take on his way home from his hunting grounds in nearby Burwell.

He almost regretted it when the vampire’s voice slithered through his thoughts, as smug as the Cheshire Cat ever was in Carroll’s books. Good.

Alucard drew his fingers across Walter’s lips as he took his hand away from the man’s mouth and Walter darted his tongue out to leave a wet line on the vampire’s index finger.

He never knew how the vampire did it. He was the Angel of Death, but Alucard could leave him hard in his trousers and wanting nothing but to forget the world for a little death in the arms of a creature that had not been human in half a millennium.

He hated that Alucard knew it. He loved that Alucard knew it. He loved their games more than anyone would ever know outside the two of them.

His lips parted in a soundless gasp as the touch feathered across his balls. His trousers were a miracle of tailoring to allow him to fight as he did without splitting a seam across his arse, but they were not tailored to accommodate the erection that grew with painful urgency under the light tease of spectral fingers.

Shh… Alucard touched his lips to Walter’s nape, pushing aside the shaggy hair to let his fangs dent the skin there for a moment. Concentrate. You have a mission. You must have discipline. Focus. Nothing can sway the Angel of Death from his duty.

Nothing? Not even the shadow that was now teasing its way to circle the tip of Walter’s cock? Slipping its way around the head and drawing tight for a moment of constriction that made Walter cover his own mouth to keep the gasp from escaping.

Alucard clamped his fingers down on Walter’s hips, pulling the man back against his body. Even though at 18, Walter had reached his full height of well over six and a half feet tall, the vampire was still taller. His erection was a hard line against the small of Walter’s back even through their clothes.

And if there were no clothes…

Then he’d look a right idiot trying to kill his prey with his hard-on waving around in the breeze, wouldn’t he?

Right. Concentrate. Discipline. Focus. Alucard was testing him. This relationship was never one of tender words and soft kisses – it was always testing, probing, seeing how far they could push each other. How far could the vampire push the hunter’s self-control? How far could the human entice and intrigue the vampire?

His eyes widened as the questions were superseded by the far more immediate ‘How could he keep from coming in his pants?’ The teasing and squeezing turned into the sensation of a mouth wrapping itself around his erection from head to base, a tongue stroking the shaft in languid sweeps.

Concentrate. Dear God, that was going to…

Focus. His breath came faster, forced out in the softest panting to keep the silence.

Discipline…

Movement caught his eye just as he thought there was no turning back, and his mounting orgasm receded like an almost physical – and painful – wave. Dammit, it was the vampire he’d been waiting all this time for. Couldn’t the bastard have waited two minutes longer?

With a mental chuckle and a last toothy kiss to the nape of Walter’s neck, Alucard faded to shadows to leave the man to his work.

Careful not to cut off your circulation, Angel. You’ll be wanting to use that later.

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