[He nods slowly to Alucard's words, his chin brushing his knees. He's at perhaps his lowest point, but he won't abandon his beliefs. In the end, it's his own failings that led to his defeat, to his losses, not God's; he's simply... struggling, right now, to feel the presence of God with him, and it's hard for a man who has felt it so strongly throughout his life.]
No, I... I won't run. It's not His failings that brought me here- it's mine, and as alone and empty as I feel, I can't blame Him for them. Draining myself dry in His name would mean even less, if I ran now.
[He runs his fingers under his glasses, startling at finding moisture there. It's been a long time since he's cried, really cried, rather than simply becoming misty-eyed, or shedding tears in a moment of profound pleasure. The tears that do come are gentle, absent of any trembling or a tightening throat.
Slipping the glasses off, he catches the tears on a palm.]
I'll press on. I'll find a way to.
[He always does, even under the worst of circumstances.]
That wasn't exactly the point I was trying to make, with regards to faulting anyone.
[ he watches him, and it's the first time he's seen him cry like this. and so quietly, at that. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't, for a moment. what can he? it's clear anderson blames himself for the deaths of his children, even if other people pulled the proverbial trigger. alucard killed maxwell, but anderson allowed it--
--but maxwell put himself in that position, with his wild plan, with his heresy. that's maxwell's fault, not anderson's. perhaps yumiko's devotion to anderson was his fault, but not her devotion to god, nor her death at walter's hands. ]
You've already found a purpose here, priest, in bringing God to the Godless. In caring for the children in need. You have your calling, even if our hunts here are cut short.
[ he reaches out, one hand pressing to the side of anderson's neck, fingers splayed somewhat. ]
And to think, you've even gotten me to agree to attend.
[ partially at susan's behest, but still, alucard even setting foot in a church is pretty remarkable. ]
[What Alucard says is exactly what he needed to hear. He's quiet for a moment, thinking, leaning absentmindedly into the hand on his neck.]
I suppose six hundred years of life have given you some wisdom.
[It wasn't enough that he still had people dependent on him, last time. He'd run. In the opposite direction Alucard had when Alucard had been given the choice of discarding his humanity, but he'd run all the same, sought to turn himself into something that couldn't feel and couldn't hurt. This time, when he says he won't run, he means it: he won't destroy himself, he won't abandon those who need him.
He nods to Alucard's words. Before leaving Duplicity, he'll make sure those who rely on him have what they need. That'll be his reason for going on.
And Alucard- Alucard, too, will be part of that reason.]
That is something of a feat.
[He smiles a little, at that, moving to curl his fingers over the ones splayed across his neck.
There's a little more colour to his face. Some pink around his nose and along his cheekbones, courtesy of the tears. And they still come, but they're slower, now.]
When you were lost, I... [There's a beat of silence while he collects his thoughts.] Wish there had been someone there for you, as you are here for me, right now. But I suppose it'll have to be one of those 'better late than never' situations.
[ perhaps it's funny: alucard doesn't see himself as part of that reason, not really, but he definitely needs it--perhaps not most of all, but somewhere in the middle. he just doesn't realize it, not quite. doesn't need to, right now.
he huffs a laugh, about it being a feat, and his thumb idles along the line of anderson's jaw, thoughtful. ]
We're still not even sure if I'm going to burn or not, so that much will be an adventure.
[ he pauses, at what the priest says to him, and he searches his face quietly for a long moment. there's an emotion there, one that aches, and he finally looks away. ]
I had no one, at the time. Alienation--is a constant, for me.
[ he looks at him again, and smiles, and cants his head. ]
I would have been content, if there'd been someone like you.
[ it's so similar to what he'd told anderson at the end, isn't it? but anderson hasn't heard that, yet.
[Perhaps he should be opposed to having a being who has the potential to burn when on consecrated grounds enter his church, but he isn't. He's just grateful.]
Well, I'm eager to find out, for one.
[It's a light, playful comment. The despondency has eased some, and when Alucard continues, his words make Anderson's throat tighten and his breaths come hitching for an altogether different reason.
He would have gladly been that person. He would have been happy, to be the reason Alucard - Vlad - persisted as a human, perhaps even met peacefully with death. He would have been content, to be such a profound presence in his life.
Maybe he can't give Alucard that now, but, God, he wants to try for something close.
It's thoughtless, when he leans forward and kisses him. Gently, fondly, and perhaps a little wet, but warm, now that the hypothermia has receded.]
We're both estranged from people, at large, but this- it's enough that you haven't turned me away, upon seeing this, and know that I would have been that for you, and that I would be that now. [He speaks against his lips, voice barely audible.] I'm glad it's you.
[And he finds that he's entirely sincere. He can't imagine it being anyone else.]
I'm sure you'll be plenty amused when I gently send up steam all through Mass.
[ mildly. look, he burns from anderson's blood, he's probably going to burn in church. but he's lighthearted about it, which is charming, and fine.
and honestly, the thought of anderson being that person has haunted him for decades. how different things would have been, if he'd gladly fallen as a man. ]
You were just born several centuries too late.
[ soft. he returns the kiss, pressing into it in a way that's almost fervent, aching. probably worrying, from an unbiased standpoint, but he's certainly not in a position at the moment to judge himself craving the priest's affection.
it's what he says last that draws a faint, keening sound from him: his hand shifts, pressing to anderson's nape, and he just--clutches at him, emotionally bare. he's not crying, not again, but it's close, and he closes his eyes. ]
I'd be a fool to turn you away. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I won't make that one.
[ he smiles then, a little wry, and adds: ]
Will you take my confession, here in the sand? It's been many centuries. There's much to tell, but I'll spare you the details. [ a sigh, but then: ] I would have long ago tried to raze this entire city to the ground heedless of its occupants without a grounding force.
[ a beat. ]
Though now it seems to be doing it to itself, without my help.
[One of his hands slips to Alucard's waist when Alucard clutches at him, holding him gently and easily while they indulge in each other. It would be so easy to succumb to his own fervent, aching need; it fills him so completely that he could drown in it, but he recognises the depths of it and-
Is it really Alucard who needs to make a confession?]
The state of affairs are unusual enough that I think I can give the delay a pass.
[He leans his face into Alucard's neck. His mind is a-whirr with thoughts, but he still takes the time to listen.
It's a slow, clawing realisation, what exactly this desperate need signifies, why Alucard's words mean so much to him, why he's enough to soothe the ache of loss and failure, and why he's so discontent with Integra's presence. He wants Alucard in a way he shouldn't, in a way Alucard can't reciprocate. In a way Integra already has already earned, occupying a space Anderson will never have access to. He isn't Alucard's grounding force, in the end.
He presses himself close to Alucard.]
You're going to need to perform a lot of penance for that, I'm afraid. Conveniently, we seem to be in hell, so killing a few of those tomb-dwellers should suffice as a start.
[The weight of everything drops against his shoulders again, but he pushes back, this time, and drags his lips on Alucard's throat. He doesn't want to let go yet. It might be the last time he lets himself do this.]
But we can spare a few moments more, before that. Tell me everything you wish to say. You have my ear.
[ anderson could make his own confession. should. it would make things easier, in the same moment as they would make things harder. there's no middle ground with them, though.
alucard's head tilts when anderson tucks into his neck, stretching out his throat compliantly. much like a dog rolling over to show its belly in a sign of trust, he's begun to allow the priest to see all of his softer edges, the parts of him that would be so easy to rip out, metaphorically speaking. ]
How kind of you.
[ a murmur. when anderson presses close his free hand curls around his back, clutching at the fabric of his own coat to urge him still closer. needy and wanting, as usual. ]
Will you aid me, in my penance?
[ his voice is hoarse, almost raw, as he says it. they both know that alucard is not, and will not ever, actually seek forgiveness from god. this is all for anderson, a confession to him directly.
his throat stretches out further with a sigh, fingers losing themselves in anderson's hair. he's distracted, briefly, by the touch of lips, because it's so pleasant, but he does have more to say. ]
You promised to kill me, and I'll hold you to it. But more than that, I need you in between now and then. Aside from the obvious troubles and issues being here, I've--enjoyed living, these past few months, in a way I'm not sure I ever have.
[ a pause. ]
I feel guilt for that, for being content when things are calm, for being happy with the stability we've managed to cultivate. I don't know what to do with myself otherwise, though. I shouldn't be glad you're here with me.
[Alucard's words hurt. It's not intentional, clearly, but they're a grip around very roots of him, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the pull on the tenuous links keeping him together.
They've forged a life here and he won't be the one to ruin it. He'll smother it, his ardour.]
Nor should I be glad, and I doubt I need to tell you the status of my guilt, but I am glad, and I'm glad it's mutual. I never imagined I'd be a positive source of companionship for my nemesis, or vice versa, but I can live with that.
[He moves his face to Alucard's shoulder, sliding his hand further around Alucard's back, fingers playing at his spine.]
Being your nemesis, and being your- friend, seem to be things that can coexist.
[It's a bittersweet way to refer to them. As much as he'd like there to be more, what they do have should be, and has to be enough on its own; it's the extent of what he can have, and it's better for everyone if he never acknowledges these feelings beyond this moment, never ruins their stability by letting Alucard discover the depths of them.
He shifts back just enough to draw him into one more kiss. It's hot, and slow, and needy, and above all else, selfish, and then he slips away, setting his glasses back onto his nose.]
I'll certainly help you with that penance. A slaughter should warm me up even further.
[ 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. ]
[Catholics: they really are great at guilt. Anderson has it in spades, which is certainly a motivating force in regard to smothering his feelings.
He returns that kiss, despite his insistence of just one more. Resistance is hard, when it comes to Alucard. Particularly in moments like these, where physical affection is like a buoy. But he stands once they've parted, shrugging off the red duster and handing it back to Alucard (despite the fact Alucard doesn't really need to have it handed back to him; he could just reduce it to shadow and put it back on that way, but it's a force of habit). His own clothes should mostly be dry, by now.
It's tempting, to take the offer. But he knows better.]
Couldn't resist the opening, Alucard? Amid a crisis really isn't the best time.
[Never mind that they were just kissing 'amid a crisis'.
He retrieves his shirt and pants from the sand, giving them a brush down before pulling them on.]
I expect this whole thing is temporary, like the desert. If the apartments are inaccessible, we'll have to find somewhere relatively quiet to stay, for the time being. I can only go so long without sleep.
[Looks like they'll be camping together for a little while. Not an ideal start to his 'try to maintain a friendly distance' plan, but needs must.]
[ he does sulk a bit, when anderson stands, because he was enjoying the attention, but he draws himself up to his feet as well, taking his coat and shrugging it back on.
he cants his head, still grinning, and shrugs. ]
You're difficult to resist. One can't spend all hours fighting, anyway, and it's a good way to relax.
[ the offer's still going to stand, even though anderson won't take him up on it.
he crosses his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth as he nods. ]
It makes sense. If it's permanent we'll have to come up with something long-term, but until then--have you been to the church, since this started?
[ surely the consecrated ground will help somewhat, right? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
No, I... I won't run. It's not His failings that brought me here- it's mine, and as alone and empty as I feel, I can't blame Him for them. Draining myself dry in His name would mean even less, if I ran now.
[He runs his fingers under his glasses, startling at finding moisture there. It's been a long time since he's cried, really cried, rather than simply becoming misty-eyed, or shedding tears in a moment of profound pleasure. The tears that do come are gentle, absent of any trembling or a tightening throat.
Slipping the glasses off, he catches the tears on a palm.]
I'll press on. I'll find a way to.
[He always does, even under the worst of circumstances.]
no subject
[ he watches him, and it's the first time he's seen him cry like this. and so quietly, at that. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't, for a moment. what can he? it's clear anderson blames himself for the deaths of his children, even if other people pulled the proverbial trigger. alucard killed maxwell, but anderson allowed it--
--but maxwell put himself in that position, with his wild plan, with his heresy. that's maxwell's fault, not anderson's. perhaps yumiko's devotion to anderson was his fault, but not her devotion to god, nor her death at walter's hands. ]
You've already found a purpose here, priest, in bringing God to the Godless. In caring for the children in need. You have your calling, even if our hunts here are cut short.
[ he reaches out, one hand pressing to the side of anderson's neck, fingers splayed somewhat. ]
And to think, you've even gotten me to agree to attend.
[ partially at susan's behest, but still, alucard even setting foot in a church is pretty remarkable. ]
no subject
I suppose six hundred years of life have given you some wisdom.
[It wasn't enough that he still had people dependent on him, last time. He'd run. In the opposite direction Alucard had when Alucard had been given the choice of discarding his humanity, but he'd run all the same, sought to turn himself into something that couldn't feel and couldn't hurt. This time, when he says he won't run, he means it: he won't destroy himself, he won't abandon those who need him.
He nods to Alucard's words. Before leaving Duplicity, he'll make sure those who rely on him have what they need. That'll be his reason for going on.
And Alucard- Alucard, too, will be part of that reason.]
That is something of a feat.
[He smiles a little, at that, moving to curl his fingers over the ones splayed across his neck.
There's a little more colour to his face. Some pink around his nose and along his cheekbones, courtesy of the tears. And they still come, but they're slower, now.]
When you were lost, I... [There's a beat of silence while he collects his thoughts.] Wish there had been someone there for you, as you are here for me, right now. But I suppose it'll have to be one of those 'better late than never' situations.
no subject
he huffs a laugh, about it being a feat, and his thumb idles along the line of anderson's jaw, thoughtful. ]
We're still not even sure if I'm going to burn or not, so that much will be an adventure.
[ he pauses, at what the priest says to him, and he searches his face quietly for a long moment. there's an emotion there, one that aches, and he finally looks away. ]
I had no one, at the time. Alienation--is a constant, for me.
[ he looks at him again, and smiles, and cants his head. ]
I would have been content, if there'd been someone like you.
[ it's so similar to what he'd told anderson at the end, isn't it? but anderson hasn't heard that, yet.
still, he means it. ]
no subject
Well, I'm eager to find out, for one.
[It's a light, playful comment. The despondency has eased some, and when Alucard continues, his words make Anderson's throat tighten and his breaths come hitching for an altogether different reason.
He would have gladly been that person. He would have been happy, to be the reason Alucard - Vlad - persisted as a human, perhaps even met peacefully with death. He would have been content, to be such a profound presence in his life.
Maybe he can't give Alucard that now, but, God, he wants to try for something close.
It's thoughtless, when he leans forward and kisses him. Gently, fondly, and perhaps a little wet, but warm, now that the hypothermia has receded.]
We're both estranged from people, at large, but this- it's enough that you haven't turned me away, upon seeing this, and know that I would have been that for you, and that I would be that now. [He speaks against his lips, voice barely audible.] I'm glad it's you.
[And he finds that he's entirely sincere. He can't imagine it being anyone else.]
no subject
[ mildly. look, he burns from anderson's blood, he's probably going to burn in church. but he's lighthearted about it, which is charming, and fine.
and honestly, the thought of anderson being that person has haunted him for decades. how different things would have been, if he'd gladly fallen as a man. ]
You were just born several centuries too late.
[ soft. he returns the kiss, pressing into it in a way that's almost fervent, aching. probably worrying, from an unbiased standpoint, but he's certainly not in a position at the moment to judge himself craving the priest's affection.
it's what he says last that draws a faint, keening sound from him: his hand shifts, pressing to anderson's nape, and he just--clutches at him, emotionally bare. he's not crying, not again, but it's close, and he closes his eyes. ]
I'd be a fool to turn you away. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I won't make that one.
[ he smiles then, a little wry, and adds: ]
Will you take my confession, here in the sand? It's been many centuries. There's much to tell, but I'll spare you the details. [ a sigh, but then: ] I would have long ago tried to raze this entire city to the ground heedless of its occupants without a grounding force.
[ a beat. ]
Though now it seems to be doing it to itself, without my help.
no subject
Is it really Alucard who needs to make a confession?]
The state of affairs are unusual enough that I think I can give the delay a pass.
[He leans his face into Alucard's neck. His mind is a-whirr with thoughts, but he still takes the time to listen.
It's a slow, clawing realisation, what exactly this desperate need signifies, why Alucard's words mean so much to him, why he's enough to soothe the ache of loss and failure, and why he's so discontent with Integra's presence. He wants Alucard in a way he shouldn't, in a way Alucard can't reciprocate. In a way Integra already has already earned, occupying a space Anderson will never have access to. He isn't Alucard's grounding force, in the end.
He presses himself close to Alucard.]
You're going to need to perform a lot of penance for that, I'm afraid. Conveniently, we seem to be in hell, so killing a few of those tomb-dwellers should suffice as a start.
[The weight of everything drops against his shoulders again, but he pushes back, this time, and drags his lips on Alucard's throat. He doesn't want to let go yet. It might be the last time he lets himself do this.]
But we can spare a few moments more, before that. Tell me everything you wish to say. You have my ear.
no subject
alucard's head tilts when anderson tucks into his neck, stretching out his throat compliantly. much like a dog rolling over to show its belly in a sign of trust, he's begun to allow the priest to see all of his softer edges, the parts of him that would be so easy to rip out, metaphorically speaking. ]
How kind of you.
[ a murmur. when anderson presses close his free hand curls around his back, clutching at the fabric of his own coat to urge him still closer. needy and wanting, as usual. ]
Will you aid me, in my penance?
[ his voice is hoarse, almost raw, as he says it. they both know that alucard is not, and will not ever, actually seek forgiveness from god. this is all for anderson, a confession to him directly.
his throat stretches out further with a sigh, fingers losing themselves in anderson's hair. he's distracted, briefly, by the touch of lips, because it's so pleasant, but he does have more to say. ]
You promised to kill me, and I'll hold you to it. But more than that, I need you in between now and then. Aside from the obvious troubles and issues being here, I've--enjoyed living, these past few months, in a way I'm not sure I ever have.
[ a pause. ]
I feel guilt for that, for being content when things are calm, for being happy with the stability we've managed to cultivate. I don't know what to do with myself otherwise, though. I shouldn't be glad you're here with me.
[ but he is. ]
no subject
They've forged a life here and he won't be the one to ruin it. He'll smother it, his ardour.]
Nor should I be glad, and I doubt I need to tell you the status of my guilt, but I am glad, and I'm glad it's mutual. I never imagined I'd be a positive source of companionship for my nemesis, or vice versa, but I can live with that.
[He moves his face to Alucard's shoulder, sliding his hand further around Alucard's back, fingers playing at his spine.]
Being your nemesis, and being your- friend, seem to be things that can coexist.
[It's a bittersweet way to refer to them. As much as he'd like there to be more, what they do have should be, and has to be enough on its own; it's the extent of what he can have, and it's better for everyone if he never acknowledges these feelings beyond this moment, never ruins their stability by letting Alucard discover the depths of them.
He shifts back just enough to draw him into one more kiss. It's hot, and slow, and needy, and above all else, selfish, and then he slips away, setting his glasses back onto his nose.]
I'll certainly help you with that penance. A slaughter should warm me up even further.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
He returns that kiss, despite his insistence of just one more. Resistance is hard, when it comes to Alucard. Particularly in moments like these, where physical affection is like a buoy. But he stands once they've parted, shrugging off the red duster and handing it back to Alucard (despite the fact Alucard doesn't really need to have it handed back to him; he could just reduce it to shadow and put it back on that way, but it's a force of habit). His own clothes should mostly be dry, by now.
It's tempting, to take the offer. But he knows better.]
Couldn't resist the opening, Alucard? Amid a crisis really isn't the best time.
[Never mind that they were just kissing 'amid a crisis'.
He retrieves his shirt and pants from the sand, giving them a brush down before pulling them on.]
I expect this whole thing is temporary, like the desert. If the apartments are inaccessible, we'll have to find somewhere relatively quiet to stay, for the time being. I can only go so long without sleep.
[Looks like they'll be camping together for a little while. Not an ideal start to his 'try to maintain a friendly distance' plan, but needs must.]
no subject
he cants his head, still grinning, and shrugs. ]
You're difficult to resist. One can't spend all hours fighting, anyway, and it's a good way to relax.
[ the offer's still going to stand, even though anderson won't take him up on it.
he crosses his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth as he nods. ]
It makes sense. If it's permanent we'll have to come up with something long-term, but until then--have you been to the church, since this started?
[ surely the consecrated ground will help somewhat, right? ]