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Crawling away on hands and knees, heart hammering in his chest, Helsing feels grim resolve.
He successfully caught the bloodthirsty demon’s eye, leading him away from his granddaughter. In his weakened state however, Helsing isn’t sure how he can overpower Dracula. He has a plan he's willing to follow through- a silver knife, and a flask of holy water.
But now his body is battered. The knife wound in his arm is reopening, leaving a small trail of blood behind him.
And Dracula is following it, slowly, like a dark spectre. Helsing can feel his eyes burning through his back, and struggles across the cold cathedral floor to a place where he can perhaps corner his nemesis-
A clawed hand grasps his shoulder and flings Helsing off the ground. His back slams into the wall. Dracula is there, towering over him. A look of malice and lust emblazons his face. Helsing reaches into his coat and unsheathes the small silver dagger.
Dracula is too quick this time. He lunges forward with a hiss, trapping Helsing’s hands over his head. Helsing can't stop himself from wincing, the wound in his arm throbbing painfully.
Dracula is inches away from his bleeding arm. The demon pauses.
And Dracula’s face twists in a ghoulish grin.
He stares right at Helsing as he slowly licks up his arm, the sensation is so alarming it makes Helsing yelp and loosen his grip on the dagger.
“How kind of you to leave a vein open for me…” Dracula cackles, lapping away with pleasure.
Helsing squeezes his eyes shut and turns away. His tongue is unexpectedly gentle, swirling around almost... teasingly. Dracula and Helsing both know he could be gnawing his arm down to the bone in an instant, yet he seems to be relishing Helsing's flavor instead.
In spite of himself and the great danger he’s in, Helsing finds himself... relaxing. Dracula is just as vulnerable- it's the most wide open he's ever made himself.
To the one person who could kill him.
When he slowly grinds his thigh against Helsing's crotch, there’s a small gasp before the clatter of metal sounds against the stone floor.
Victory, Dracula revels.
Helsing casts his eyes over to his granddaughter standing in the cathedral nave, in a trance. He needs to protect Jessica- but how?
Perhaps a bargain...
He looks back at Dracula and swallows hard.
"I beseech you, spare her... It's me you want, Dracula."
Dracula grasps Helsing's chin firmly, but not cruelly.
"You would give yourself to me then, willingly?" He forces Helsing to face him, staring into his eyes.
"Swear it."
After what seems like a lifetime, Helsing throws his head and looks up at Dracula with half lidded eyes.
"T- take me, Dracula. Please."
Blinking, it takes Dracula a moment to believe his ears. He pauses. Helsing waits, wondering what he’s up to. Dracula gives him a quick but thorough once over for any traps- He finds his holy water flask and chucks it.
The shattering breaks Jessica's spell, and she collapses.
"I have released her. Now that you have given yourself to me freely, you are all I need."
"You have not harmed her in any way-" Helsing persists, "and none will ever come to her from you or your forces if you-"
"If I take you? It is a promise... my Helsing."
Helsing closes his eyes, and relaxes his throat.
He leans against Dracula, weak in the knees from sensation until Dracula is supporting him entirely. He holds his love, so strong, yet this time not ferally.
Helsing is perplexed to feel Dracula’s long fingers stroking his hair- such tenderness from a demon? At first he thinks he’s being mocked, but Dracula has been pining. Just one glance is enough to make Helsing stare and marvel at the look on his face.
Dracula is truly savoring every second of this moment like he's been yearning for it for several lifetimes.
It’s enough to make even Helsing swoon, as he pulls Dracula towards him.
Dracula nuzzles the man’s face. Helsing had never been present for the intimacy that happens before the act... but he can't deny he finds it pleasant, sort of endearing, even. In spite of himself, Helsing melts in Dracula’s arms.
He doesn't want to believe he's running his hands through Dracula’s hair of his own volition, but it's happening- and he's enjoying it.
Dracula growls into the crook of Helsing's soft neck. It’s almost to the point where Helsing can't bear it and whimpers.
"A-are you torturing me...? I-", he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath.
Dracula slithers his entire body against Helsing.
Oh God, I hope he doesnt feel my shame-
Helsing turns bright red.
"No shame, my dear one."
Helsing stares, realizing Dracula can probably read his thoughts.
"Don't you realize this was meant to be?"
Helsing stammers and grips Dracula's sleeve with as much strength as his good arm can muster. He gingerly places his other hand on Dracula’s cheek, wincing from the pain of his wound.
"I suppose this was... my beloved enemy", he chuckles.
Suddenly Helsing feels something, but it's not pain. And it's not in his neck.
Dracula had snaked a hand down Helsing's waist. Helsing's eyes widen as he lets out a cry- his knees give out entirely and he's weak against Dracula's wandering hands.
What is he doing!? Why hasn't he bitten me, what is h-
Dracula slides him down the wall to the floor and begins to unfasten Helsing's clothes- his silk cravat, the buttons on his shirt, his trousers that had become very uncomfortable. Dracula takes good care of his prize, doing well not to make any of it unpleasant.
"You are my ultimate bride, after all... you deserve the best consummation experience."
Dracula leans back and guides Helsing's hand down his own body, laying it to rest above his groin.
And waits for Helsing to proceed. Dracula is more than happy to give him release, but the only way to go about it is through explicit permission- like being given entry to a home.
He feels the body is home to the soul, and he's willing to open himself if Helsing does the same.
So he waits.
Helsing licks his dried lips, but draws his hand back.
"I- I’m sorry, I'm not ready- for that, just yet..."
Dracula nods quietly and removes his hand from Helsing's groin.
"As you wish. In due time..."
Helsing sighs and relaxes considerably, regaining his courage. With what remains of his strength, he pulls Dracula forward and kisses him deeply.
So deep and so fierce that Dracula can hardly believe it.
This man was truly meant for me to spend eternity with, Dracula muses to himself as he grasps the back of Helsing's head to deepen their kiss. Helsing guides Dracula’s hungry lips down along his jaw. Then down his neck, where Dracula can feel Helsing's thundering pulse with ease. Dracula licks and mouths gently until he finds the right place. Helsing grips him, still relaxed. He's ready.
There's a brief moment that feels like several.
The brush of smooth teeth becomes sharp.
Even though Helsing has seen it happen countless times and is prepared for it, his voice betrays him. Helsing gives a cry, small but so complex. It's filled with a sweet mixture of surprise, pain, guilty pleasure, even relief.
Dracula drinks in his soft sounds as tenderly as his blood, doing his best to not damage Helsing's beautiful body. He wants to keep him as pure as the night they fought.
Too soon, Dracula feels the familiar trembling of a victim nearly spent. Admiring Helsing's iron grip around his back, Dracula forces himself to release the vein, clasping a hand over the wound. Helsing draws in weak breaths of pleasure, as if in an afterglow.
Dracula reaches down his own chest and opens a vein. Something eerily dark, too thick to be blood, oozes out. There's an intoxicating smell- even though it's unnatural, Helsing can feel his mouth water.
The final nail in my coffin, Helsing thinks to himself. This is what he's decided, and what he wants.
Helsing lets Dracula cradle his face and guide his parted lips to the frightening blood.
He drinks.
And once he has a taste he winces for a moment- it burns, before feeling cooling and pleasant. It tingles on his tongue. Delicious.
He drinks deeper.
He feels Dracula's voice rumble from his chest, but it's more than the growls he's used to hearing. Is Dracula... moaning?
They are long shuddering sounds, filled with the deepest longing. Helsing has never heard anything like this, from man or beast, but it shakes him down to the very marrow of his bones.
And he finds himself wanting to hear more of it. He wants to be the one making Dracula feel this way and bellow loudly.
Dracula feels Helsing's legs weakly try to hitch around his waist. He lifts Helsing's hips with one hand and lets him straddle his lap, his back still pressed against the wall. Their limbs become entwined.
Dracula lets out a shudder. Though Dracula can clearly feel Helsing's erection returning as he drinks his blood, he wants to make certain that this is what they both want.
Once again Dracula draws back, looking Helsing in the eyes. Helsing's face is glazed over, pupils blown wide with arousal. His mouth is dark and smeared with Dracula’s blood, in the cracks of his teeth, darker than wine. Oh, it's too much, he can hardly believe...
Helsing grinds against him. The demon lets out a startled gasp, then groans. Their trousers have been unfastened this whole consummation, Dracula realizes. They're throbbing hot against each other, fully aroused. And it feels so very right.
Dracula cautiously bucks his hips, just once. Helsing moans.
Dracula is losing his grip. He knows it's a matter of time before his carnal instincts take over- and Helsing is holding on tightly, wanting it now.
Dracula can’t take it. He coils his long fingers around the both of them at once and thrusts. The sounds Helsing makes are so exquisite, so desperate and keening.
Dracula’s mouth is soaked with Helsing’s blood when they kiss again. Their blood mingles together in their mouths, and the combination is something unbelievably pleasurable. The passion, the years of pursuing, fighting, desiring, is all culminating in this intense moment. Helsing whimpers into Dracula's mouth- he can feel his bride getting closer. He can't deny that the realization alone makes him feel the same way.
Dracula holds Helsing to himself even tighter.
Pumps his slickened fist quicker.
Suddenly Helsing throws his head back. Dracula digs his claws into Helsing's back and the cathedral is filled with their combined shouts of ecstacy. They feel their orgasms rush through them and overflow.
Dracula holds his trembling new bride's body to his own and they slump forward into each other, gasping, spent but so connected.
Helsing's body becomes colder. He clings to Dracula, who wraps him in his own cape.
As Helsing's eyes close, as his light slowly fades, he looks at peace. Dracula caresses Helsing and whispers, "Rest now, my beloved. Rest, and I will see you open your eyes again."
He tidies themselves up before rising, Helsing wrapped in his arms.