[ truthfully, if alucard knew anderson was struggling like this, he'd think it was--absurd. while he has no term for his own feelings, much less a context for them, he likes them even when they hurt, and the fact that anderson is apparently blind to the depths of them would likely wound him in a way. ]

You're Catholic, of course you're guilty. But it's--good, to have another chance.

[ at death, or at what they've forged here? both, perhaps. his back arches a little, from anderson's touch, an idle hum rumbling out of him. he listens to him speak, quiet, and--

--ah. friend. somehow that doesn't seem right, to him, but he doesn't know what to replace it with, so he just--frowns, minutely, nosing in against his jaw insistently. it's easy to make innuendo, to make sexual jokes to fluster him, but that's not--this. this is different, and alucard opens his mouth briefly to speak before he closes it again, at a loss. he doesn't want to be friends.

he returns the kiss as it comes, pressing into it, hand shifting to rest against his jaw and linger there. he's selfish too, wanting, and nips idly at his lower lip as he pulls away, catching but not breaking skin.

his head cants. ]

You're right. We should do that.

[ he presses forward once more, for another kiss, insistent once more--it's short though, at least, though no less wanting for its brevity. he's good at that, at pouring all his desire into short shows of affection. ]

You know, I'd be more than happy to help warm you up further once we get some work done.

[ with a grin. yes, we all know fighting makes you horny, alucard, this is probably not the best time to blatantly hit on a guy though. ]