Captive Audience
folder
Hellsing › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,330
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Hellsing › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,330
Reviews:
4
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.
Interlude
DISCLAIMERS: "Hellsing" is owned by Kouta Hirano. I'm just writing this for fun.
-----
"Ah hate ye," the priest whispers.
"Who are you trying to convince, Anderson? Me? Or yourself?" Alucard's silky tone sets the priest's nerves on edge. He feels trapped, more a captive than the vampire he has pinned against the wall.
"We keep dancing to the same old tune, you and I," Alucard continues, stroking his fingers through the paladin's short hair. "And while it's a favourite, don't you ever long for a change of tempo?"
"Change o' tempo?" Anderson echoes in confusion.
Another amused smile finds its way to Alucard's lips. He tips his head forward, pressing his cold, smooth cheek against Anderson's warm, stubbled cheek. "Yes, perhaps something a bit less... frenetic." The scrape of unshaven skin against his own sends a shiver running along Alucard's spine. He'd been close to the priest before, but always in the heat of battle. This was an entirely new chapter in their relations, one the vampire had only briefly mulled over before current events had thrown them into their present situation. Now it might bear a more thoughtful consideration.
As for Anderson, he seems paralyzed with indecision. Everything he'd ever been taught, ever believed in, was screaming at him to destroy the vampire. But he stubbornly ignores that incessant clamor and jerks his head back to study Alucard with shrewed eyes. Despite the smirk tugging at Alucard's lips, there is a strange sense of vulnerability to the Killer Joker at the moment. Without sunglasses to shield his gaze, the priest can stare right into those blood-red eyes, down into the black depths of Alucard's soul.
Doubt nibbles at the edges of Anderson's resolve. Clearly Enrico has his own agenda, one that is becoming less and less to Anderson's liking. He'll have to deal with that matter shortly. But right now, it's only him and the vampire. It's a strangely quiet interlude within the tumultuous battle raging across England.
"I know you work at an orphanage, Angel Dust. Surely that indicates some capacity for tender feelings. I'm not using you for target practise right now and you're not making a pincusion out of me with your blades. Let's just put aside our differences for a little while longer, Anderson. Just you and I."
Manipulating a weak mind is a simple trick. That boy at the Hotel Rio had been completely defenseless against Alucard's power. But it was another matter entirely to meddle with a strong, well-disciplined mind like Alexander Anderson's. However, if the desire was already in place, Alucard need only give a little nudge here and there to guide his victim's thoughts.
Why not give in to the vampire's suggestion? Here they'd been for over an hour together without trying to kill one another. Alucard had snatched the priest off the street and into the burnt out shell of what was once someone's home. Anderson had immediately been on the defensive, prepared to do battle with his enemy, but for some inexplicable reason, the vampire had simply vanished. Intrigued, the priest sat down on the remains of a coffee table to wait and watch out the window as London burned. When Alucard had finally returned, they'd shared a companionable silence until sunset.
The kiss had completely unnerved Anderson. Shooting? Yes. Cursing? Yes. Punching? Yes. Kicking? Yes. But kissing?! It was the last thing the priest expected Alucard to do. It was so completely out of the realm of anything Anderson knew about the vampire, that he still doesn't quite know what to do or where to go from here.
Anderson's whirling thoughts are nearly transparent to the vampire. Alucard knows the priest won't continue any further. Given too much time, and the Assassin would be right back to his usual routine of trying to pummel the vampire into a greasy spot on the wall. But right now Anderson is neither attacking, retreating nor denying No Life King's suggestion. Again the vampire takes the initiative, brushing his lips over Anderson's and running his tongue along the seam of Anderson's mouth. This time Alucard asks permission instead of merely conquering and devouring.
Neither of them are surprised when the priest's lips part and he lightly touches his tongue to Alucard's in a wordless invitation.
-----
"Ah hate ye," the priest whispers.
"Who are you trying to convince, Anderson? Me? Or yourself?" Alucard's silky tone sets the priest's nerves on edge. He feels trapped, more a captive than the vampire he has pinned against the wall.
"We keep dancing to the same old tune, you and I," Alucard continues, stroking his fingers through the paladin's short hair. "And while it's a favourite, don't you ever long for a change of tempo?"
"Change o' tempo?" Anderson echoes in confusion.
Another amused smile finds its way to Alucard's lips. He tips his head forward, pressing his cold, smooth cheek against Anderson's warm, stubbled cheek. "Yes, perhaps something a bit less... frenetic." The scrape of unshaven skin against his own sends a shiver running along Alucard's spine. He'd been close to the priest before, but always in the heat of battle. This was an entirely new chapter in their relations, one the vampire had only briefly mulled over before current events had thrown them into their present situation. Now it might bear a more thoughtful consideration.
As for Anderson, he seems paralyzed with indecision. Everything he'd ever been taught, ever believed in, was screaming at him to destroy the vampire. But he stubbornly ignores that incessant clamor and jerks his head back to study Alucard with shrewed eyes. Despite the smirk tugging at Alucard's lips, there is a strange sense of vulnerability to the Killer Joker at the moment. Without sunglasses to shield his gaze, the priest can stare right into those blood-red eyes, down into the black depths of Alucard's soul.
Doubt nibbles at the edges of Anderson's resolve. Clearly Enrico has his own agenda, one that is becoming less and less to Anderson's liking. He'll have to deal with that matter shortly. But right now, it's only him and the vampire. It's a strangely quiet interlude within the tumultuous battle raging across England.
"I know you work at an orphanage, Angel Dust. Surely that indicates some capacity for tender feelings. I'm not using you for target practise right now and you're not making a pincusion out of me with your blades. Let's just put aside our differences for a little while longer, Anderson. Just you and I."
Manipulating a weak mind is a simple trick. That boy at the Hotel Rio had been completely defenseless against Alucard's power. But it was another matter entirely to meddle with a strong, well-disciplined mind like Alexander Anderson's. However, if the desire was already in place, Alucard need only give a little nudge here and there to guide his victim's thoughts.
Why not give in to the vampire's suggestion? Here they'd been for over an hour together without trying to kill one another. Alucard had snatched the priest off the street and into the burnt out shell of what was once someone's home. Anderson had immediately been on the defensive, prepared to do battle with his enemy, but for some inexplicable reason, the vampire had simply vanished. Intrigued, the priest sat down on the remains of a coffee table to wait and watch out the window as London burned. When Alucard had finally returned, they'd shared a companionable silence until sunset.
The kiss had completely unnerved Anderson. Shooting? Yes. Cursing? Yes. Punching? Yes. Kicking? Yes. But kissing?! It was the last thing the priest expected Alucard to do. It was so completely out of the realm of anything Anderson knew about the vampire, that he still doesn't quite know what to do or where to go from here.
Anderson's whirling thoughts are nearly transparent to the vampire. Alucard knows the priest won't continue any further. Given too much time, and the Assassin would be right back to his usual routine of trying to pummel the vampire into a greasy spot on the wall. But right now Anderson is neither attacking, retreating nor denying No Life King's suggestion. Again the vampire takes the initiative, brushing his lips over Anderson's and running his tongue along the seam of Anderson's mouth. This time Alucard asks permission instead of merely conquering and devouring.
Neither of them are surprised when the priest's lips part and he lightly touches his tongue to Alucard's in a wordless invitation.