Entry tags:

!complete, dracula, jonathan harker

Who: Vlad and Jonathan.
What: Reunited after a trying week apart.
When: July 8, the weest hours of the morning.
Where: The residence of one Mister Harker.
Rating/Warnings: High / Bad words in foreign languages, nudity, intimate adult activities.
Status: Complete.

In the grand scheme of things, it hadn’t been long at all, but to Vlad it felt like a lifetime. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t the same person he was when he left Jonathan. How could he be? To give into that instinct was no different than giving into it in his dreams - he accepted the darkness fully, willingly, and found that … It wasn’t as horrible as he had thought. Second nature, nothing more. The monster inside had satisfied its bloodlust, hunger subsided, but it was craving something else.

Jonathan. Even as Vlad had held a lifeless body in his hands, Jonathan was ever present in his mind. It was not a romantic notion. Jonathan had become as integral as breathing had once been to Vlad. Four days, five days, that was too long. Vlad’s body was itching with restlessness and the need to touch, to smell, to see.

He didn’t look at the time. It made no difference, Jonathan would be there and would let him in regardless of the hour. There was the chance, even, that Jonathan would be awake as well. Smoking, maybe, studying. That didn’t keep Vlad from standing outside the door for a long time even once he got there. A slow mist rolled in around his feet, curling up, slowly settling into a fog that blanketed its way down the street. Vlad hadn’t learned yet how to control that, not with the ease he had dreamed about. He scarcely noticed it. It wasn’t until it was dense around his feet that he raised his hand, giving Jonathan’s door three sharp knocks.

It felt like it had been raining on the inside of Jonathan’s head for days. A constant storm. He didn’t sleep well, and he wasn’t sleeping well currently. There were too many thoughts, too many bad dreams, too much scribbling in his journal because he always had a penchant for expressing himself by means of the written word - he had no other choice now, lest he wanted to go insane again, this time for different reasons. His sleep was light, and fitful at best, which was why he heard the knock. The knock that jolted him fully awake, and he had a good guess as to who would be coming by so late - he knew Vlad had been out there, and Jonathan also knew what he was doing out there too. Somewhere. The death rattle, the gurgle of a departing spirit, last words being unable to find themselves.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be completely fine with that. But Jonathan knew about survival, and so acceptance was the best he could do right now. He’d used his own time apart to work it out as much as he could.

When he opened the door, the fog was noticeable; it reminded him of London at midnight and black velvet. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes, hair a mess (but at least the white roots weren’t showing yet), barefoot and wearing plaid pajama pants with no shirt, face scruffy thanks to needing a shave.

“What timeissit?” And why did it look like a gothic horror novel cover out here, but oh wait, that answer was obvious. He extended a hand for Vlad. “Dragoste. Come here.”

Vlad heard Jonathan stirring inside. In his mind he saw it, the shift of blankets - probably already pushed aside in the summer heat - the look around as Jonathan tried to orient himself. The shuffle of tired steps down the hall and then, at last, the click of the lock. His eyes met Jonathan’s the moment the door was opened, his hand reached out, ice reaching for warmth to melt some life back into it.

“It is late,” Vlad said, simply, stepping inside. The fog followed, little tendrils wisping in before getting trapped out on the step. “Or maybe it is early.” Inside the familiar home, Vlad reacquainted himself with the atmosphere of Jonathan Harker. Once he’d satisfied himself with the scent of tobacco and coffee, he turned, arms out to draw Jonathan back to him. “Mi-a fost dor de tine.”

“Mi-a fost dor de tine,” Jonathan echoed, a breath of relief escaping him when he collided with Vlad, into his arms, and he nuzzled at the man’s throat - lips searching, hunting, kisses given on the way to his mouth. “Mi-ai lipsit, te iubesc...foarte mult.” He practically seized them together, for him it was instinct - it left barely any space for breathing, like they were woven by the ribs. And it hadn’t been that long, the time they were apart, but even just being here now felt like his bones were rewiring, invisibly melding to the person he hadn’t seen in what seemed like forever.

Then the door was kicked shut behind Vlad, but Jonathan didn’t give himself much space to do it. He had so many questions, and he was fully awake now, fingers combing through Vlad’s hair, down the back of his neck, thumbs on his cheekbones, making sure he was really there. “Are you...what happened...or...”

Jonathan was stuttering a little, somewhat uncharacteristic for him. “How are you?” It was one of those questions people didn’t usually mean, more like a greeting for the most part, but not this time.

Vlad hummed, a low rumble in his throat as he was kissed and touched and held. His gaze unblinkingly never left Jonathan’s face, stoic, impassive, waiting for Jonathan to find his words. He ran his hands down Jonathan’s arms in an effort to calm his mind.

“I am … Very much at ease,” he replied. There was a moment of thought, how to put the feeling into words. Something softer than I don’t feel like a bloodthirsty demon anymore. “Things have settled in my mind.” Which didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He could see the gentle throb of Jonathan’s pulse against his neck, which stirred more desires in Vlad than a simple bloodlust.

The rumble sounded almost like a purr, distant rolling thunder. It made Jonathan smile a little, just the barest flicker of one in the dark entranceway (where they still hadn’t moved from - but he’d fix that in a bit). “Good,” he said, nudging with his nose, skimming along Vlad’s jawline. “I worried about you.” Worried about many things, mostly how this place couldn’t seem to cut anyone a break - and it really was changing Vlad, in ways that were difficult to come to terms with. But Jonathan would stick by him - there wasn’t any other place he’d rather be.

He pulled back slightly, just to watch Vlad through the fringe of lashes, a nearly sleepy, drunk on pleasure stare - and seeing him, taking him in like this, was like a sudden punch to the gut. Oh, in a good way, of course. It was the coiling of simmering want beginning to turn into something like animal desire, that was all. “Do you need anything?” he asked, and no, the double-entendre there probably wasn’t imagined.

Vlad felt the smile more than he saw it. He reached up a hand to brush his fingers across the corner of Jonathan’s mouth, where it quirked up just enough to be noticeable. “There is little reason to worry for me. I have not felt better since this all began.”

Then it was his turn to smile. A glimpse of teeth shining white even in the darkness, through red lips, and Vlad stepped forward as Jonathan stepped back. “I recall you made a promise to me when last I left here. I would hate to think you had forgotten it.”

“I was afraid you would come back and not want...” Jonathan took a breath, like he was too anxious to even put words to that fear. But Vlad knew it anyway. It was the main reason Jonathan had been so reluctant to let him go. “I was afraid your feelings would change.” Or dissipate completely, in a puff of tricksmoke.

But he hadn’t forgotten that promise, no, far from it. Instead, he thought about it all the time. Jonathan still had questions, things he wanted to know - but that would come soon enough. It was need that pushed him forward, primal, like Vlad was the prey instead of the other way around - hungry kisses, a graze of teeth, sucking the breath from his lungs. And as Jon stepped back, to lead them elsewhere (like to the rumpled sheets he’d disentangled himself from when the knock came), it was not a gentle stroll that his hands were taking. They were already grasping and uncovering, cursing clothes, and everytime their lips met it was just like unimaginable relief.

Jonathan was met with the same animalistic intensity. He wasn’t entirely wrong in his fears, either. Vlad’s feelings had changed, though not for the worst. There was a feeling that he could have whatever he wanted now, the thing he wanted most was Jonathan, and he had no intentions of letting go.

Vlad pushed Jonathan as much as he followed, trying to shed layers through Jonathan’s touches. Before long impatience won out. Hoisting Jonathan up, Vlad toppled them among the forgotten bed linens, ignoring his own disheveled state of undress for the moment. “You belong to me,” growled against Jonathan’s throat, teeth pressing against skin just short of breaking it. “Always.”

Belong to me. Nerve endings lit up, a torch taken to them, and there was a hum in Jonathan’s throat that turned into a moan when he felt the sensation of teeth on skin. The words sounded so familiar; hearing them again was the scratch of someone pulling a needle from a record player, a train screeching on its tracks - but the familiarity didn’t fill him with dread, the way the words had once upon a dream. Instead he was fire, he burned with those words - he made the choice this time. He’d already made his choice.

Wind whipped that fire, all in his head, all until it was a vortex around them and the outside world was sealed away. He’d landed on his back, in the mess of sheets and blankets, and with a growl of his own he pushed and pulled, shifting over to sink his knees into the mattress on either side of Vlad, a snug fit, he was breathless and nearly feral - lungs burned, like he’d sucked back a whole pack of cigarettes.

“You belong to me too,” he chuckled throatily. “You always will.” Hands slipped between them, down the pants that Jonathan had just about ripped off of Vlad, stroking, compelling, coaxing him rock hard. “Because you never really let go of me. I was always with you, and you with me...it was me who brought a new breath of life to you. And me who took it all away in the end.”

An existence entirely built around Jonathan Harker. Vlad almost regretted that it had not been Jonathan he’d found at the end of things, among the market stalls in the fading twilight. A story without Jonathan seemed wrong, incomplete. More reason to devote his attention to the Jonathan he had.

“I would have kept you for an eternity,” Vlad breathed, voice strained from Jonathan’s touch. His own hands found Jonathan’s hips, nails skimming over hot skin. “Te voi păstra pentru o eternitate.” He pulled Jonathan down, meeting him in another clash of lips and teeth and tongue.

“An eternity’s a long time,” Jonathan said, the words low and tinged with dark amusement. He was all too pleased to return that kiss, any kiss, creating pictures in Vlad’s mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure you’d know what to do with me for that long?”

Though he was quite sure that it’d be figured out. Jonathan himself had a few ideas - well, for the current situation, anyway. He was still very mortal, very human - and those differences, between himself and a partner who would live forever, he couldn’t focus on those right now. Instead he focused on everything he’d missed - touches, sensations that were infectious and hit nerves, that spread throughout the body. His hands traveled everywhere, tossing the rest of the barriers in the way, caressing skin and determined to not just rush through everything.

Everyone appreciated warmup. Emphasis on the warmup, and not simply slathering up with lubricant and thrusting. Though he’d go for the former in a minute; even vampires deserved extra slickness when being fondled. It was rude otherwise.

Vlad answered with a throaty laugh. “I would find a use for you.” He caught one of Jonathan’s hands, pressing kisses to palm and wrist, before dragging his fingers up Jonathan’s spine and into his hair to lure him close again. His free hand occupied itself with the line of his thigh, the curve and swell of his ass, drawing their hips together with a low groan.

The groan that came from Vlad sounded velvety and deep; it jolted right through Jonathan, jolted elsewhere (blood rushing south, really, unable to be helped); it was liquid excitement and anticipation, all traveling in a singular direction. His hips jerked, a crash together, edging forward at the touches he received in turn - his actions were thoughtless because his mind had already narrowed in on the pleasure of being needed and wanted.

“I have no doubt you would,” he agreed in a breath, teeth bared to set on the edge of Vlad’s jaw again. Playful, teasing. Him and his mouth traveled down too, everything southward - but he wanted to explore, going for the hipbones that were carved from marble, and Vlad’s skin was still on the cooler side. More so since becoming, um, undead. But Jonathan would warm him up. The tip of his tongue dragged through the creases he liked, places where all parts joined, hip to thigh, legs to torso. “I’m sure I could make life interesting for you, for an eternity.”

There was a momentary feeling of annoyance at the immediate loss of Jonathan, fleeting, though, dissipating at the sensation of hot breath and lips ghosting over Vlad’s skin. The untouched parts of his body felt acutely more chilled in the absence of all that focused heat, but the swipe of Jonathan’s tongue sent tendrils of warmth up through his skin.

“It would be worth living an eternity, having you there.” Because life alone, watching the centuries pass and the world change with no one there to watch with you, that was a horrible existence. Vlad had lived that. He had lived it longer in his last dreams, not having the mercy of Jonathan there to put him to rest at last.

Vlad exhaled a breath that didn’t exist. Forever with Jonathan was intoxicating, a perfect fantasy. The muscles in his thigh twitched under the careful attention it was receiving and Vlad shifted restlessly. His temptations needed to be prioritized. Scratching his nails across the back of Jonathan’s neck, he focused himself back to the present. “Te iubesc.”

“Te iubesc,” Jonathan murmured back, kisses trailed back up, desire intermingled with tactile pleasure, everything colliding, everything a rising tide. The next time he touched Vlad it was with slickened fingers, the hand over hand stroking to his cock a prelude and not just a tease. One finger went inside of him, stroking there too, stimulating - for the sole purpose of the latter, direct and concentrated focus. What a benefit it was, actually knowing how the male anatomy worked. Some people just didn’t, no?

His tongue went back to exploring, a long and lazy lick like his vampire was actually an ice cream cone - from the base of his cock to the tip, lips wrapped around there and sucking, along with the deliberate strokes of his middle finger. Make noise for us, dragoste, you know you want to. Maybe even squirm.

Vlad’s brain fizzled to a stop, rebooted void of thoughts beyond the scope of Jonathan. He ran his tongue along the inside of his lip before biting it, fingers burying deep into the thick mess of Jonathan’s hair. “Fute,” he hissed, finishing with a low moan that rumbled from his chest.

Not quite a squirm, but he shifted, foot flat on the mattress as he dug his heel into it. For someone who had never had any practice with this, Jonathan was remarkably adept, and Vlad had a brief moment where he thought about what sort of internet searches Jonathan must have done to learn this. A laugh bubbled out of him, brief, before his voice hitched with a very pleased sounding gasp.

Well! Jonathan was simply într-adevăr inteligent; why would he want, or need, to ram three fingers at a time up where the sunlight did not go? Or scissor those fingers, or curl them, or do anything else similar to what a colonoscopy would be, when what he was looking to stimulate what was right there? It was common sense, really. The laugh surprised him a little and, for some reason, it caused a chuckle on his end too - more like a puff of air, and when he glanced up a smirk crossed his feature - and his eyes, jade gone dark, narrowed in speculation.

“What was that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say such a dirty thing before,” Jonathan hummed, the strokes of his one hand taking over from where his mouth had been. But not for too long - he didn’t want beloved Snobby to hit the ceiling yet. “You’ll say it again?” he asked, shifting a little himself, nudging Vlad’s legs apart and settling in between.

There was something Vlad very, very much enjoyed about knowing that Jonathan had this side to him. He clenched his jaw, but a smile coiled its way on to his face, a strong showing on his part considering that Jonathan was doing his best at unraveling that composure. And succeeding, really, because it was the first time in days that he felt a spark of life inside him.

“You are usually dirty enough for the two of us. I may be persuaded to repeat it,” Vlad purred, a pleasured haze around the edge of his voice. “Kiss me first.”

Of course Jonathan would. That was no hardship - touching and kissing were reasons why he wanted to go at it like this anyway, the opportunity for lots of it. Feeling slick and sufficiently primed and, oh, ready to provide electricity for the whole house if the power went out for some reason thanks to how stimulated he was, he knelt and leaned down, legs twisted together like vines, sealing his mouth over Vlad’s. A fiery kiss, moment expanding, lit from the inside. There was no room to be cold anymore; he didn’t notice it.

“Then I will do my best to persuade you,” a grin flickered across his face, Cheshire cat who swallowed the canary whole. Another kiss, a hand searching, curling around the back of one knee and hitching up to shift them both again just a little so that everything aligned. Then he let go, braced on his hands, his elbows. “Tell me if you’re good.” He wouldn’t just grab hold of his cock and jam it in - how uncouth.

Vlad swallowed the kiss up, tugging at Jonathan’s lip with his teeth, keeping him there with his hands on Jonathan’s face. His thumbs stroked over perfect cheekbones before he let Jonathan take a breath, hands busying themselves with their own touches while he let himself get shifted and moved around.

“Jonathan,” he said, eyebrows raised, “are you quite finished?” Vlad’s mouth quirked up. He drew Jonathan into a kiss that was chaste compared to the recent matches of tonsil hockey, and the predator inside him seemed curiously dormant. For now. “I am fine.” He was, after all, slightly more accustomed to this, but he wouldn’t take Jonathan’s sweetness away from him. “And I am also not known for my patience.”

It was true, Vlad had the...experience. Jonathan didn’t. Not with this, but he was a quick learner and skilled enough with smarts and instinct to figure things out along the way (hands-on applications?) without making any huge blunders - maybe it meant he was also cautious, but not in a bad way, because communication, communication in the bedroom, somethingsomethingsomething, um, whatever, fuck it.

In he went, not all the way, didn’t bury himself to the hilt - there was no need (because, again, the hotspot was right there), and it’d probably be uncomfortable otherwise. But he could still explore, a stroke from deep within - building, creating, an explosion of all the senses. Storms beneath his own skin, heated and crackling, pleasure lashes of lightning.

“Fute,” he gasped, his turn - and alright, yes, he had always had the potty mouth anyway.

Truthfully, Vlad had always seen this happening the other way, but now that they were there, he didn’t mind much. He smoothed his hands over Jonathan’s cheeks again, because he could see him thinking, which wasn’t doing, and Jonathan needed the reassurance more than he did, it seemed. Until Jonathan was doing.

Vlad inhaled, a sharp sound from between gritted teeth. His fingers clutched at Jonathan’s shoulder, grip tight, nails digging into skin. There was a hint of a laugh. “Language, Mister Harker,” he murmured, eyelids fluttered shut to break his unwavering stare. A tremor went through his body as he readjusted himself and it coaxed a sound from his throat, caught between a gasp and something resembling a whimper.

If they were in this for the long haul (and by this point, Jonathan sort of assumed they were), then going a million years in the same positions would probably get tiring - likely they’d end up switching eventually, back and forth. It was simply that Meestahrrr Harrkarrr would require more preparation at first, was all. Preheating the oven sufficiently before stuffing a fifty-pound turkey inside. He imagined that it’d be like any other couple situation - you figure out what you like, and go from there.

At least this wasn’t illegal. Or maybe it was.

It was always give and take though, like he’d said before. A simple flow, not a fight. Sometimes the other would resist, and sometimes they’d submit. Hard, fast, a tight grip of his fingers in the rumpled bedding, holding himself together - in times like these, he was glad he knew how to read Vlad so well. He’d always been good at that. Because listening to the sounds he made, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way they shifted under his skin - that was all second nature by now, and it helped, it was important, so Jonathan didn’t fall over the edge before he should and ruin the whole thing. In his mind, they would go together or as close to it as he could manage.

But there were things he was still learning, just because it really was all new. He wasn’t sure if he should touch Vlad or not, fingers stroking his cock, a brush of a touch; a lot of it depended on how close to feeling that telltale prickling sensation. “Wash my mouth out with soap?” he exhaled, chuckling, a sweaty mess, pressure building within him. “...nenorocit te iubesc,” it sounded like pleading, like Jonathan loving Vlad with his voice. Even with dirty words in there.

Vlad drew Jonathan closer, leaning up to meet him and trap the laugh in a kiss. His lips travelled beyond Jonathan's to the corner of his mouth and his jaw and his neck, the taste of sweat heavy on his tongue. In all his time watching Jonathan, he'd learned, too, how to read him. Vlad could feel Jonathan's uncertainty mingled in with the ever rising tension. He made a fond sound against Jonathan's ear, biting at the lobe, letting his own touch wander.

He found Jonathan's hand, bringing it to his lips, grazing his teeth across the pads of Jonathan's index finger before lacing their fingers together. "Maybe I like you being naughty," he teased, "like you like that I am rude." Vlad hitched his leg up Jonathan's hip, a string of choice Romanian at the change of angle mixed with something possibly Arabic. "Esti perfect."

Their fingers of one hand were linked, and Jonathan clenched tightly - an interwoven knot, complicated, as things tended to be for them. But love was supposed to be anyway, or at least, it was meant to be interesting - if it wasn’t then no one would write poetry about it, no one would sing about it either. “If you weren’t rude, I think I’d have a stroke,” he huffed, or was about to anyway. The jury was still out, at this point.

He held himself together as much as he could too, for as long as he could - but focus was hazy, his breath escaped in pants, and he could feel that trembling sensation coming. Warmth spread outward and everything was unraveling - he couldn’t really think of anything else poetic, no words to describe pictures that entered his mind besides complete and utter incoherencey. Deliberate movements, a thrill of pleasure shooting through him and a snake’s shiver - bodies crashing, so much tension then it snapped and the grip on Vlad’s hand slackened a bit as he let out a long, shuddering moan.

But he’d thrust out all he could until his body was useless (ever the trooper, that Mr. Harker), and his hands were free to pay attention to Vlad entirely.

Fortunately for Jonathan, he didn’t have to push himself too far. Vlad’s own release came soon after, a spasm pulsating through his body, and he managed to choke out another fute - he’d been pretty well persuaded, after all.

He pressed a kiss to Jonathan’s cheek before dropping back against the bed, an amused look toying on his lips. “Perhaps I should stay away from you for days at a time, if this is my greeting when I return.” Though he was quickly learning that being undead and covered in sweat and body fluids resulted in an unpleasant clammy sensation. “... And where is the dog?”

Now, Jonathan was all set to get some cuddle time in (of course), but he recognized that Vlad was a bit more, ah, sensitive to the feel of being sticky and debauched. Besides, men in general tended to be less inclined to roll over and cling like barnacles after fucking anyway - it was wired in them, kind of an evolutionary thing. If they were sleepy and half-dead, they couldn’t run off to find another mate. Not that this was an issue here, and Jonathan seemed to be the exception to the rule anyway. Still, he didn’t take it personally that the automatic reaction was to clean up.

“Don’t do that,” he laughed, his bones sliding out of him (it felt that way) as he leaned over and went for a kiss or a few, a machine gun volley of them pressed to Vlad’s mouth to get them in as a preliminary. “Stay away for days at a time, I mean. Um...”

Speaking of the pup, the jingle-jangle of his collar, and his snuffing and curious rumbling from the other room meant that he was awake in his doggie bed and probably had to take a piss. He’d been easy to potty train, at least, or it was that Jonathan was just very diligent about it. And why the hell shouldn’t he be? “Bathroom’s on your left,” he quipped, because Vlad knew where the bathroom was by now. Jonathan would give him time to un-sully himself. “I’ll go let the dog out. Then come back here. I’m not done with you yet.” Or else he’d find you, Vlad. Don’t deny the cuddle time.

“I would never dream of it. The woman next door seemed to think that, given my strange behavior and you not coming over that we had parted ways,” Vlad said as he sat up. “Better to hide here a while.” He flashed a smile before disappearing toward the bathroom, cleaning himself up. Then it was a matter of settling in to wait for Jonathan and the inevitable cuddles, maybe also some puppy kisses, and the domesticity of it all actually pleased Vlad. Not that he’d so readily admit it.

After grabbing his pajama pants from the floor and his cigarettes and lighter, Jonathan went outside and had a quick, sleepy, eyelids-hooded smoke while the dog did his business in the backyard and then bounded into the house with his tongue lolling out, floppy ears and all. Cigarette put out, the puppy was scooped up and carried to the bedroom where he was set on top of Vlad so he and his fat paws could baby-waddle closer for lots of those kisses.

Then Jonathan took his turn in the bathroom but didn’t require much time - he had things to do, like get back in bed. Which he did, a rumbling sound of amusement escaping him. “You have gossipy neighbors. Or more like it’s just that woman,” he deduced, skin scented like tobacco and soap, curling around Vlad and nuzzling wherever he could reach. Wherever the dog already didn’t have monopoly.

After a minute he asked, “How long?” While stroking the other man’s chest, one leg hitched up and slung across his hip. “Until you have to...leave again?” For feeding, that is. Vlad had mentioned before that in one dream space he only required such things once a month, but since he was new to all this right now - well, Jonathan just wanted to know.

Despite his well-crafted, emotionally distance demeanor, Vlad had very little issues when it came to being covered by excitable puppy (he'd had a lot of practice in the form of Jonathan). As one hand carefully scratched behind the dog's ears, Vlad nuzzled at Jonathan in turn, working his arm around Jonathan to settle across his waist.

"I do not know," Vlad replied, looking absently thoughtful. "I do not think I will need to distance myself. It had been simply a precaution, though now I understand it. Unless you would rather I did." After all, it wasn't as if he was simply taking donations. He wouldn't blame Jonathan if it was him who needed the distance from it, and not Vlad.

“I...” Jonathan paused, taking a breath. It was something he’d thought a lot about, he’d immersed himself in it for days and nights while Vlad was gone, and the topic was just something he still had trouble with because there wasn’t a clear-cut, simple answer. The logical side of him knew that it needed to happen, or else it’d be the equivalent of denying a human food and water - and, sure, there were alternatives. Magical cups, blood bags, drinking from animals. But what worked for one vampire might not work for another - suppressing the predator within Vlad, appeasing it with tofu-like substitutes when it could be dining on filet mignon, it seemed...dangerous. It would probably make him resentful of, well, everything. And everyone. Jonathan just couldn’t demand that from him - give and take, always that.

More nuzzling, a quiet and thoughtful sigh. “No, I don’t need the distance. I just need to work it out in my own head, but I want you near. I think...it’ll just be something I’ll need to learn to trust and accept.” Trust was different than acceptance - trust was an unspoken bond, acceptance was allowing himself to let go, to understand that he couldn’t change this. Acceptance was a ‘must’ sometimes. If he was ever asked if he was fine with a life being taken, the answer would of course be no - but accepting it as a stone-cold truth was something else entirely.

It meant a lot, whether or not Vlad outwardly showed it, that Jonathan was willing to accept it. It was a lot to ask a person, and while Vlad may not have accepted it if Jonathan said otherwise, it would have been understandable. He squeezed Jonathan's hip in silent reassurance.

"Then I will still close by," Vlad agreed. "And I will not tell you when I am going out," to find a victim, "in hopes of keeping you as separate from it as I can."

Not being told that, well, it was for the best. Jonathan knew it was happening, yes, but he didn’t need to be spoon-fed every intimate detail. Better for the both of them that way. “I’m just relieved you’re still...that you’re still you,” he said, tilting his face up, nose pressed to the edge of Vlad’s jaw. “But you have me, and you don’t have to be alone, so...”

Less of a chance of giving in completely to the inhuman side - nothing to keep him anchored, no one to love, no one around to understand him. It didn’t have to be like that now. It wouldn’t. “And you have that too,” he chuckled, with a nod toward the puppy, who was wandering and wagging and wedging himself in, figuring out where the best spot to settle would be. Just wait until he was grown. They’d need a king-size bed for sure.

Vlad wasn't sure he could tell Jonathan anyway. If asked, then yes, he would say enough to satisfy the question, but there was more involved than Jonathan needed to know. Better to keep him distant from it.

Instead, Vlad laughed, nudging Felix with his foot. "I was right, he is less invasive," he teased, kissing Jonathan's forehead. "I've accomplished so much without having you to distract me."

“Why, because he doesn’t sprawl out all on you?” Jonathan wasn’t even doing that now....okay, yes, he was. He had arms and legs wrapped around Vlad in a very clear mine type of claim; like one of those cartoon seagulls on the beach. Mine mine mineminemine. MINE??! “I like distracting you. I think you like it too, even if you don’t admit it.”

Felix would just be here, keeping Vlad’s feet toasty. Fat puppies were good for that sort of thing.

His skin even felt warmer, or at least Jonathan thought so. Not as much of a cold contrast, but that could be because of all the friction and closeness. Still, exhaustion was settling over him, he was lulled by that proximity and feeling drowsy. Vlad would be awake until the sun came up, but Jonathan probably would get a few more winks in. “I’m sure he’ll have to take another piss in an hour or so,” Sleepy Lawyer yawned. Which was code for ‘you’ll probably be awake so please take him out because I’m going to be dead to the world.’ “...te iubesc, Doctor Vlad.” Well, he had a PhD. More like it was Jonathan poking fun at the Mr. Harker insistence.

Vlad snorted. Doctor. It was, technically, applicable. It didn't have quite the same ring to it. He hummed his agreement that he'd take the dog out before dawn, which wouldn't be too far off. Now that the sun affected him, Vlad was even less keen on the idea of being awake during the day. He was looking forward to the short hours of sunlight in the winter.

"Te iubesc, Mister Harker." Vlad gave Jonathan's hair a fond tug as he settled in, willingly letting himself be clung to for the next sixty or so minutes.