Hatred in the Moonlight

Hatred in the Moonlight

Smutty resemblance to a wannabe plot brought to you by Queen Creepy.
Part 1 of the “Betrayal of the Innocent” series

Summary?
Sometimes, when you love somebody so much, you hate them with a burning passion…Anderson specifically hates one Hellsing vampire…

Rating?
NC-17, definitely. Yaoi sex, swearing, and Alucard.

Comments?
It seemed like a good idea…with any luck it came out right…

Disclaimer: As much as I wish, they ain’t mine. However, I think my bid on Alucard on eBay might have gone through…

Feedback?
YES!
Send it to us through reviewing. Please?
Your criticisms now may stop that next one from sucking as bad as this.

Dedicate: My co-author, Fake. She loves this crap.

I hate vampires.

I hate him especially.

As I wait for him to arrive, I look up, and stare ahead, watching the moon and the stars as they glitter slowly…but glitter isn’t the right word.

Smolder. The stars smolder and the moon burns; the moon is the dieing fire, and the stars are the embers cast out to try and resurrect the place they came from, the burning fire…

They remind me of hatred. The fire is the hatred that burns inside; the stars are the seeds it casts off to preserve its legacy, to burst into flame at the slightest provocation.

It completely represents my relationship with him…

Him. The Hellsing pet abomination.

Alucard.

The stupid smirking bastard whose face I would –love- to cut clean off, and then chop his body into little pieces, light them on fire, and dance on the ashes, laughing hysterically.

But that’s only before we’ve fought.

Heh…this will disappoint him.

His favorite toy has already calmed down before he actually got a chance to watch the flame cool.

Good.

At the moment, I want to piss him off, I want to smash his face in, and I want to kill him.

But that’s only because we haven’t fought.

It’s only because he hasn’t won.

It’s only because he hasn’t claimed the prize for winning yet.

That’s why I make this trip up to Britain, once a month, on the full moon, when the stars are smoldering.

It’s all because I hate him.

Hate.

Ha.

I don’t hate him, really.

But he’s a vampire. One of the creatures I will destroy, in fact, -the- one creature I will destroy, even if I must do it with my dieing breath.

So I won’t say the true word…the true feeling.

I will never give him the satisfaction of fully submitting and letting myself believe that.

Where is that bastard?!

I narrow my eyes as the rage returns, and I grip one of my swords tighter, irritably, trying to resist the sudden urge to mutilate the trees surrounding this little clearing, deep in the woods.

I whip around as I hear a deep chuckling, and then his smirking goddamned form slides easily out of the shadow, like the serpent he is. He smirks comically and calmly, watching me with similarly narrowed eyes.

“Shall we?” He asks in the deep, mockingly calm voice he always uses that these meetings… I glare at him irritably, and pull out two of the swords, not even giving him the dignity of my wasted breath. He chuckles and shakes his head, sliding his gun out of the holster, and then evening it so that the barrel pointed straight between my eyes. I crossed my swords, and waited, counting to ten mentally.

He made the first move, firing off three easy shots, aimed for my head. I ducked easily, shifting into an offensive crouching position, before remaining ducked like that, and rushing forward, stabbing and swinging once I was in range. He spun and dodged as well, some attacks missing, some attacks meeting where they should have gone.

We parried and fought for close to an hour, and in uncountable slashes of sword and fourteen gun wounds later, I was tired. My head was ringing from the first two bullet wounds that had gone through my temple, and the next that had sent itself through my eardrum. I was tired, but I attribute that to my still being human, somewhat…and then my mind began to wander and mull over that subject.

That’s why I lose these fights.

I let my mind wander too far, and before I knew it, he had me on the ground, my coat out of reach, current blades out of hand, various sheaths scattered, his very solid presence on my back, holding me down on all fours, pinning me effectively with his body weight, and the barrel of his gun pressing into my neck. He chuckles into my ear, and leans down, scraping fangs over the back of my neck, smirking triumphantly behind me.

“I win.” He says simply, nipping my ear with his blunt front teeth, shifting slightly on top of me. I grit my teeth, and close my eyes as I begin to feel excited, with something interesting pressing into my lower back…

I shifted somewhat, moving my knee off of a rock and moving so I could breathe easier, and he moved with me, smoothly accommodating me. I murmur in return to him, eyes opened to slits. “No you haven’t…” Defying. Heh. I don’t want to break the façade we both have running, but then again, I want to get to the main event… But I put my pride and patience first, and begin to struggle and thrash, fighting under him, trying to push him off, cursing him to deepest Hell.

He just smirked into the base of my neck, moving with me, like a man waiting for a bucking horse to calm down, until I managed to throw him off balance, sending him to the side.

However, I sent myself with him. I threw us both to the side, and he landed on the bottom, holding me against his chest while I pushed and thrashed, managing to scramble to my feet. Only to be tackled and forced on my back, glaring up into his mocking, bright red eyes, that damnable smirk taunting me as he leaned down and nipped along my neck.

“Now now, Paladin Anderson, you lost the fight…you become mine to command for the rest of the time spent together…and I don’t want you to leave just yet.” He says, like a parent explaining to an impatient child. He smirked at me and turned me over slowly, shifting and sliding, until I was on my stomach again. He then nipped the back of my neck as he reached around and undid the front of my pants. I stiffened, in more ways the one, and then said, in mock outrage and hatred. “How dare you?! Remove your hands from me, you worthless, pitiful, damnable, abominable hell spawn!” I thrashed wildly, mostly pushing up as to not allow him to touch a specific part of my anatomy.

However, I pressed up against his. It was making him excited.

The damnable freak chuckled softly, and nipped my ear, before taking the lobe between his sharp canines and rolling the flesh between his needle like fangs warningly. He smirked into the back of my neck when I stiffened again, and before I could blink, his gloved hands were working on my clothing, sliding off my pants and shirt while humming softly. I couldn’t have fought half decently, as he was leaning almost all of his weight on me, no longer supporting himself with one hand. My arms gave out under the force of us both, and I was soon on my elbows and knees, panting softly. In the span of a few minutes, he had removed every stitch of my clothing.

Everything but my cross.

In all of these meetings, I had never figured out why he never touched the cross. It was a number of reasons, or so he hinted. Maybe he couldn’t touch the blessed silver object for fear of pain…no. It would never be that. He seems so impervious to pain, it seems like he actually wishes for pain. Maybe it’s the only way he’s sure he’s still a physical being…he knows he’s not alive. That prospect seems to make him happy, and prideful, but seems to send him remorse, and longing for something different. He changes emotions like a storm changes weather, so often, and so violent. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and get back to my original subject as I hear the soft rustle of cloth above me. He’s removing his coat and hat.

I close my eyes tiredly and slowly as I realize his true reason for never touching my cross. He’s mocking me. He leaves a physical reminder on me of my God. And of this great betrayal I perform once a month, when I submit to him, a damned beast of Lucifer.

He chuckles quietly again, and I realize he’s reading my thoughts. I shake my head, and think only one thing.

Fuck you. Go to hell and stay there, you Abomination.

His chuckles increase in volume as he removes my boxers, purring softly into my left ear, blowing into it softly with a puff of cool air from his long dead lungs.

“Now now, Judas Priest…-Alexander-…be a good boy.” I stiffen as he says my first name. He’s the only one who ever calls me just Alexander. I growl softly in return as I feel him sit up and shift position. His leg is then pinning my neck to the ground, and his front is shifting and shuffling through pockets, or so it sounds. I feel shame as I picture how this must look, completely vulnerable to a vampire. I cringe at how this would look should anyone but us ever see me like this.

The abomination stops in his shuffling and turns somewhat, his foot lifting off my neck, but his leg still pinning me. Except now I can breathe. He whispers quietly. “No one will ever know what we do here…because you…and your vulnerability are mine.” He chuckles softly, and I close my eyes. He has that much respect for me? He’s quite a moronic being sometimes…my eyes reopen as I hear the soft pop of a cap being pulled free, even over the drumming of my heart, our panting, and the sounds of the wood around us.

He snickers calmly, and I hear the soft whisper of a glove being removed, a few moments before his slick finger is probing at my entrance. I stiffen, and force my muscles to contract, and he chuckles softly, and continues to probe. “It will hurt you more than it will hurt me if you do not just…relax, Alexander.” I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes, my hands clenching into fists, and he waits, patiently, still probing slowly. He’s waiting for me to tire, to submit, or to forget myself…and it’s the third that is my undoing. I take a deep, shaky breath, and he takes his advantage, thrusting his index and middle fingers in before I can retighten myself, and I yelp, not having expected the intrusion. I tighten around his fingers, which is quite a foolish mistake…the abomination has long fingers. He’s pressing into the blinding spot deep in every man. And he knows it. He curls and uncurls his fingers ever so slightly, taunting me, forcing me to submit.

I groan softly, and he purrs tauntingly at me, continuing his treatment until I spread my legs a little more, and allow myself to relax. He chuckles at me, and thrusts his fingers in and out, adding a third, and eventually a fourth. I wonder a bit about the fourth finger, since he usually just uses three, and I can’t help but bark out tauntingly, raggedly. “So what, vampire, you think your cock has grown thicker since we last met?” He chuckles softly, not replying, continuing to thrust his fingers in and out for a few minutes, before shifting again on me, sitting up. I heard a soft click, and then the drop of a clip of bullets. I froze, and turned my head as much as he allowed me. He was holding the Jackal out to the som somewhat, examining it with a casual turn of head. He grins slightly and looks back at me.

“This will do nicely…” He smirks evilly, and I shake my head, attempting to thrash. I growl lowly at him.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He sighs and shakes his head.

“You’re no fun, Alexander.” But he puts that forsaken gun away, thank God. I turn my head again, breathing in deeply.

Which is my mistake, for when my ears are filled with the sound of my breathing, he pulls out that god-forsaken piece of artillery again, and thrusts it halfway into me. I shriek, and writhe under him and it. It stings and burns, larger than anything I’ve ever felt, and yet it presses against the blinding spot of pleasure deep within me. I whimper and shake my head, my glasses falling and tears stinging my eyes from the pain. “Get it out…” I hiss and plead, shaking my head, trying to push my hips down and off of the barrel of the black weapon. He chuckles quietly, and holds my hips still with the other arm, thrusting the weapon shallowly in and out of me.

I lost track of time how long he thrust the weapon in and out. It never lost it’s painful edge, but it still rubbed my prostate every time, keeping me erect, although making it feel like I was burning deep inside my bowels. I hissed and cursed him lowly in Italian as he continued, watching my reaction calmly.

Finally, he pulled that goddamned thing out, and set it to the side, before shifting again, and pulling me with him. I felt something warm and wet trail between my legs, and his head snapped up almost instantly. He looked at me with an arched eyebrow, and murmured to me, “I didn’t know you were bleeding…” I narrowed my eyes in return, my vision blurry. “I didn’t know either. I had a gun blocking the feeling.” He let a calm smirk take over his face, although his eyes expressed a tiny bit of sorrow and regret. He slid a finger along my jaw line, and chuckled softly.

“Well…since you need to heal and retighten yourself for me,” He said, tauntingly, suggestively, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Why don’t we make use of your other entrance, Alexander?” He grinned, and shuffled me so I was on my hands and knees again…with my face directly in his crotch. I glared up at him, and he slid his hands down, unbuttoning the black pants slowly, and then easing them down his hips even slower.

He then slid down the black boxers underneath, and groaned softly in relief as I was put face to face with his pulsing organ. He chuckles softly, and thrusts his hips up at me, waiting for me to do what he wanted. I glared up at him, and he purred softly, the hand that had been stroking through my soft blonde hair tightened, and pressed my face down. He held me there firmly, and tilted his head down to watch me. I gritted my teeth, before leaning forward, shoving mide ide into a crevice briefly, and slid out the tip of my tongue to flick against the tip of his arousal. He groaned quietly, and arched upwards, pressing the tip against my lips, and I gritted my teeth again, before relaxing and opening my lips, taking in the very tip of his manhood, suckling softly. He purred affectionately, and rocked his hips back and forth, slowly sliding in the rest of his arousal, purring quietly, encouragingly. I opened my lips even more, and relaxed my throat, allowing him to rock into my lips completely, so that the tip of my nose pressed into black curls of soft hair. Then he grinned down at me, and pulled back so only his tip remained.

And then he began to fuck my mouth.

He held my head still and began to thrust brutally in and out, growling and moaning in an extremely animalistic way as he did so, stabbing deep into my mouth, chuckling over the animalistic noises he continually admitted. I drug in deep breaths through my nose, flexing my throat and moving my tongue somewhat. He continued thrusting until he came, semen slipping down my throat. The moment he pulled back, I coughed, spitting some out, swallowing the rest, taking a deep breath, before glaring up at him. He chuckled quietly, and smirked down at me, raising an eyebrow, and asking innocently, “Too much?” He grinned at me as I glared at him and bared my teeth.

He smirked and stood slowly as I crouched back on my feet, propping my elbows against my knees and glaring at him in contempt. He smirked, and stood, sliding off his pants and boxers, and stepping out of them, removing his undershirt as well, leaving him as nude as I. He chuckled and looked down at me, before crouching in the same position as I. He smirked, before reaching and picking up all of our clothing, and laid them into a makeshift pile, made like a mock bed. He smirked at me and pulled me to him, and turned me, laying me back on the pile of cloth, smirking at me, before leaning down and kissing me surprisingly soft, gently running his long tongue along my lips until I parted them, at which point he slipped the wet flesh inside and probed against my own, until we lay there in each other’s embrace, his hand gently stroking my back and side, purring quietly to me as he rubbed our hips together.

He then pulled back and lifted me, pulling me into his lap and moving me so that his erection was poised directly at my entrance. Without word or signal, he suddenly thrust up into me, roughly, brutally, and I gasped, clenching my teeth and tightening my hold around his neck. He chuckled softly, and began thrusting up into me, causing me to grit my teeth in pain.

I don’t know when the pain stopped, and it turned to pleasure.

I cried softly, rocking my hips down against his, thrusting my own arousal against his stomach, whimpering and begging, my mind completely blank except for the stars that were dancing across my sight.

He continually nipped my ear as we coupled roughly, his nails raking along my sides and back, my grip around his neck tight enough to choke a man.

I was like a doll to him now; I needed him to move me and to use me, without any thought of how I felt.

And he did the job rather well.

Somewhere amidst the pleasure, the pain, and the fucking, a small voice screamed at me. What was I doing?! How could I do this?! I was a holy Paladin; I should be killing this sinner against God, not allowing him to fuck me! Why was I sleeping with another male, anyhow?!

I ignored the voice and grunted softly to him, his chuckles soft in my ear.

“I hate you, you bastard.” He smirked and thrust twice as hard and fast as before, pressing against the blind spot once.

That’s all it took.

I came against our stomachs, near screaming his name, for the first and only time during our meeting. He grunted and moaned, and bit deep into my neck, suppres a h a howl of his own, his nails digging into my hips, forcing me still as he released deep inside me.

Wth pth panted and I loosened my grip around his neck and he eased us backwards, so that he was lying on top of me, fangs still buried in my neck.

He pulled away and lapped at the bloody wound, closing it on his own, for once not chuckling or smirking, just watching the slowly closing marks with a sort of reverence and respect.

It may have been short hours, or maybe even long minutes before we finally stood and began moving around, clothing ourselves, composing ourselves. I took longer than he did, having to sheathe and refasten all the short swords and knives inside of my coat, murmuring a quiet prayer to myself as I did so.

He purred softly and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist, and kissing me one last time, gently, just pressing our lips together.

Then he stepped back, and smirked, eyes narrowed and bent on enraging me, bringing me back again.

“It was mediocre, Judas Priest…you should really practice your technique…maybe –Father- Maxwell would be all too happy…or perhaps one of the alter boys…” He chuckled evilly and stepped into the tree line, smirking at me and raising a hand in a goodbye.

My blood ran freezing, and yet boiling at the same time the moment those words processed through my tired mind, and I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, wanting nothing more than to collapse his jaw with my fists at that moment.

But I merely stood and turned, walking away, my movements stiff and irritated.

I hate that bastard.

I will kill that bastard.

Maybe next month.

…

Heh.

Yeah right.

Authoress’ Note:

Queen Creepy: Wow…that was…spiffy. And fun to write. I should probably change end ending…and I’m already planning a sequel, as well as my next fic.

I need to see if Fake finds this adequate when it comes to Alucard’s part, since he’s in her mind, not mine…Anderson seems a bit ADD at points…and I just suck when it comes to writing. Anyhow…

(Fake: NO YOU DO NOT! THAT WAS WONDERFUL!)

Does anyone else notice that in episode 7, someone could just push Anderson or Alucard forward, and the two of them would be kissing?

Does anyone else notice that in episode 3, Anderson looks like he’s looking at Alucard’s ass when he is behind Alucard, in the shadows when Alucard is talking to Ceres…Celas…Seres…Seras…Ceras…Celes…Seles…Selas…the policewoman?

Anyone else notice I’m hyper?

…I’m done.

Thank you for reading.

If you don’t review…I won’t work as fast on the second one, nor the rest of a series I plan to write.

You heard me. More are on the way. The second one is uh…finished. Actually. So ignore above threat…um…if you don’t review, I won’t post it! Stop cheering!

I may even get Fake to participate. That’s right…Alucard’s point of view.

Flames will be laughed at and torn apart.

Constructive criticism will be thought over and taken in to write a better one next time around.

Wee!