Pairing: Alucard x Anderson
Rating: NC17 PWP
A/N: PMS is good. Watching the OVAs, finally. [4,316] AU. Integral orders Alucard to discipline the new, wayward vampire he has sired by accident.
[A/N: Started watching Hellsing OVAs. T_T Somewhat AU. Also, it seems that Anderson’s eyes are blue, in the manga, not green like the anime… Note: In wikipedia it says same-sex victims also turn into ghouls, but I didn’t see this in the anime nor remember it in the manga. Ah well. :)]
His Master was taking further and further issue with him these days. Alucard supposed that he could not blame her – London was still a rotting warzone, the bodies still being taken down from their stakes, the remnants of the ghouls not netted in the first cleanup still roaming the countryside. Hellsing mansion was gone, and they had relocated to one of the outposts deep in Cornwall, the organization nearly in disgrace and its failure to protect keenly felt by its master.
Not by he, admittedly. He did not share his Master’s human concerns, though her bloodline continued to intrigue him.
“Alucard.” Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing’s voice snapped like a whip. “Are you listening?”
“Always.” He leered, following her pointed stare to his feet, which had begun to sink through the stone during his reverie. With a shrug, he solidified, standing upside down on the ceiling of the refurbished new mansion, his coat and hat defying the laws of mere gravity, staged to irritate.
Integral narrowed her eyes, and for a moment he saw her ancestor’s fire, then she took a deep drag of her cigar and turned her eyes back to her paperwork. “Stop terrorizing the help.”
“As you wish, my Master.” The new butler had been absolutely useless, recommended or not from the Knights of the Table; Walter had never been fazed by Alucard’s tendency to ignore distressingly human ways of entering a room or contacting people he wished to speak to.
“Seras tries her best, but she’s needed on the frontlines.” Indeed, Integral’s normally immaculate suits seemed a little more creased than usual. Gleefully, Alucard floated as shadow behind her, heedless of the graying light of the evening, enjoying her irritation and discomfort.
“I could try to find some suitable sort of help, my Master. After all,” Alucard shifted into his wolfhound form and laid his dripping muzzle in her lap, his teeth bared into a smirk on the far side of sanity, “I live to serve.”
“Tch.” Instead of slapping him off her lap or putting a bullet through his skull as he’d expected, his Master patted his head, mockingly. “Poor irony.”
Alucard waited, slightly confused and curious, as gloved fingers scratched his ears, and wondered if Integral was subconsciously deriving some sort of comfort from doing so. He knew his Master missed Walter, missed her faithful butler and confidant, that his betrayal had been the worst wound of all. His heart was long beyond such matters – all he felt about the matter of Walter was disappointment, that the man had given in. Disappointment after disappointment…
“We were talking about your new childe,” Integral used the archaic term with distaste. “Truly, Alucard, if you had to bite someone, did you have to choose a creature so infuriating? And I had thought Seras a fair measure of your self control, but now I see now that she was likely a fluke.”
Sullenly, Alucard muttered, “How was I to know he was virgin, my Master?”
“Circumstances should have made it obvious. Besides, you asked Seras before you bit her, did you not? Can’t you smell these things, anyway?”
Alucard reflected that in some matters his Lady Integral could be remarkably inflexible and, at the same time, prone to the strangest assumptions, but also that any defense stated in this matter would only sound puerile and result in a circular, undignified argument.
“If I recall, I did offer to take care of matters, my Lady.”
“Tch. Hellsing’s numbers have been greatly reduced, and the ghoul problem is still rampant. We need all the… men we have.” Distaste. “Go train your childe into having some semblance of control.”
“Your wish, my Lady, is-” A gunshot interrupted him, the derringer having appeared as though magically in his Master’s hand. Alucard laughed in startled pleasure as pain hammered through his skull, welcoming it with vicious glee, and reformed in his human shape before his Master’s desk, bowing mockingly. He considered bleeding on the carpet, but Integral’s warning stare forestalled him, and he sank through the floor instead.
A dog’s life could be so very entertaining.
His new pet’s greeting came in a flurry of blessed bayonets, which Alucard allowed to pierce him, yawning as he pulled them out of his body and dropped them on the cold flagstones. “So affectionate, Alex. Missed me?”
Alexander Anderson scowled at him from the small desk in his underground chamber, seemingly interrupted amidst reading the Bible. For a moment, the fallen Paladin’s eyes burned red with a predator’s hatred and lust for battle, then Anderson rubbed his eyes sharply, taking a deep breath, and Alucard was amused to next look into blue eyes. The new ones were always like this, clinging to the fragments of their humanity: Seras with her insistence on actual clothing and her horrified exclamations at having to sleep in a coffin, her long abstinence from drinking; and now Anderson. The writ did not obey him any longer, not with his tainted blood, but he still kept the trappings of Iscariot with him.
Blood to blood. Alucard knew he could, if he wished, exert his will to break that of those he sired, but that, in his experience, never quite proved so entertaining. Better that they kept as many fragments of their will as they could before succumbing.
Seras had bowed too quickly to be of much interest in that regard: it had been but half a week before she had automatically begun calling him Master. Pity. And he had thought the police would have had a little more spine.
Anderson, on the other hand, had evidently bent all of his indomitable will into battling the compulsion, his tone still insolent and free of honorifics when addressing his sire. “Fuck yeh, bastard.”
“The policewoman is one thing,” Alucard mused, as he circled Anderson, watching the Paladin’s shoulders tense. “But why do you refuse my blood? I would have thought you eager to be free of me, Alex.”
Anderson had flat out refused to wear a Hellsing uniform, and had settled for something similar to his Iscariot gear: gloves, a black, high collared trench over a black inner jacket, white gloves, his silver cross worn upside down, a new hole punched through the bottom. A fallen priest.
“Free t’be ae true monster, like yeh?”
“That’s a strange question, Judas priest, and poorly phrased.” Alucard mused. “ ‘Like me’? I have no freedom, that much you know.”
“Ye dinnae wish it.”
“Yes. I do not wish it.” Alucard circled the table, resting his head on his elbows on the rough, splintering wood, and smirked, baring his sharpened teeth. “Neither do you. Do you like being fettered by me, Alex? I’m flattered.”
“Not by yeh,” Anderson snapped contemptuously. “But her that is yeh ‘Master’, she has nae fondness for true monsters, aye?”
“You’re willing to follow Integral?” Alucard raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected.
“Ah ken she’ll keep me human.” Anderson turned back to his Bible, turned a page. “What’s left o’ it. Being here. In Hellsing.” The Paladin’s distaste was sharp, but under that was a grudging resignation. “The scourge grows close t’Ireland and it needs t’be contained.”
Ah-h. “So you’ll stay in service to protect your precious little Catholics.”
“Iscariot was destroyed. Nae one left t’do so.” Anderson said flatly, his grief more evident and profound for the fact that Alucard could not sense it in his tone. The priest didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, it seemed.
He smirked. When battling Anderson, he had wrested the nail from his hands, had only laughed as the relic burned him, then shattered it under his foot. Laughed and cried at the same time, to know that he would not meet his end under the Paladin, that his long, lonely journey on Earth was to continue without respite. And when Anderson had charged again, out of sheer bravado, he had enveloped the priest in shadow, dizzy with emotion and triumph and despair, and had bitten him.
It was reflex, he swore later to Integral, when they were surveying what was left of London and had realized that Anderson was neither technically alive, nor, to his Master’s furious indignation, a ghoul. Her decidedly unladylike roar of “ALUCARD!” had startled the carrion birds from their feast and had frightened even the newly awoken Seras into hiding reflexively behind a lamppost.
And from then on, Anderson had (if under initial protest) joined Hellsing, but was fast (according to Integral) becoming more trouble than he was worth, always straying over England’s borders, or confusing witnesses with his priest-like clothing. Worse, Anderson showed no signs of weakening to the blood link in the least.
“How was I to know the damned priest was a virgin?” Alucard grumbled out aloud, and got a bayonet through his neck for the trouble.
“Fuck yeh.” Anderson was blushing, with faint spots of color on his cheeks as he read his Bible, and Alucard had to leer, even as he pulled the blade out with some effort. Newly sired vampires were, he had to admit, quite an amusement. They still tended to breathe, and automatically mimed life, using the flow of their tainted blood to color their skin to look human.
“Oh? You are… were… a Catholic priest. Even if you joined as a child and took the vow, I would have thought, what with the matter of recent scandals…”
Anderson threw the Bible accurately at Alucard’s head with a furious snarl and stormed out.
When the vampire finished cackling to himself, he realized somewhat reluctantly that he hadn’t quite obeyed Integral’s orders, and drifted as a cloud of shadows out of the room, following his childe’s scent. Anger. Hatred. Denial. Bloodlust. The newborn could be so elemental, and Alucard grinned, changing into a huge mastiff that drooled on the ground and opened red, feral eyes up its spine. He’d almost forgotten how fun it could be to play with childer.
Unfortunately, it seemed Anderson learned fast – Alucard nearly lost his trail when it crossed over more recent scents of his other childe, and then it went cold completely when it swept repeatedly over his Master’s trail. Somewhat irritated, Alucard sank into the stonework and opened eyes in every shadow he could reach, but drew a blank, and his annoyance faded to wicked pleasure.
What a smart little pet, his Alex was… wherever he was hiding…
Another hour later, Alucard concluded that Anderson was no longer on the grounds, and from the vague sense of the blood-link between them, the Judas Priest was likely some distance away. Pity. He couldn’t leave the mansion without his Master’s permission, and she was very unlikely to allow him to do so simply to chase Anderson’s tail. Which meant that he’d have to seek the help of his other childe, seeing as he was a little too lenient on Alex in allowing him to move unfettered.
Seras Victoria was seated on her coffin seemingly chatting to a shadow, and she looked up questioningly when he coalesced in the room. “Master?”
Gone was a childe’s blind adoration, her eyes red with a predator’s glint, and her regard was that of a kindred No Life King’s respect for strength rather than a puppet’s affections. He didn’t quite understand why she sheathed her left arm in dark leather, an odd contrast from her uniform, but he supposed all vampires did so have to have their strange affectations.
“Find Alex and drag him back here,” Alucard commanded, and watched Seras blink in surprise.
“But Master, you could-” Seras paused, cocking her head, as though listening to someone, then she grinned. “You’ll have to ask Integral-sama, wouldn’t you.”
Alucard eyeballed the shadows for a moment, and then settled for an unpleasant leer as he realized that this was a self-defeating task, reminding himself that he had wanted the policewoman to grow a backbone. “He’s grown adept at hiding his trail. Think of it as an exercise.”
“Yes, my Master,” Seras saluted, and there was something in her new, barely veiled, playful insolence that reminded him of Pip. Alucard chuckled, harsh and delighted and inhuman, as Seras faded to shadow. Perhaps this was for the better.
Unfortunately, Integral was Displeased with the fact that both Seras and Alex had gone missing in the face of the amount of work they had cut out for them, attributed matters somewhat unjustly to his fault, and forced him to take on their tasks with ‘maximum efficiency’, which meant ‘no playing’, which meant he was utterly bored by the third quaint little human breeding hole of a town he had cleaned up for the night.
So he was in a somewhat poorer mood when he returned to the new mansion and sank down to the cellars.
“Master.” Seras greeted him with a sharp salute. “Mission accomplished.”
Growling but no longer struggling, Alex was being held down by Seras’ shadows, the policewoman primly cross-legged on his back, both their clothes somewhat the worse for wear. Alex was missing his glasses, coat and much of his vest, and Seras most of her jacket to the point of near indecency.
“Good work. I trust he wasn’t too difficult.”
“No, he wasn’t too hard to find. Thank you, my Master, for the ‘exercise’,” Seras said, the expression of artful innocence in her eyes far too much of Pip than of the Seras he had known. “It was a nice night for hunting.”
Alucard scowled. He had thought that too, while trudging through his tasks, and didn’t need to be reminded that someone out there had been having fun at his expense. “Out.”
“Yes, sir.” Seras grinned and faded into shadow, which slipped out of the chamber, and instantly, Alex surged to his feet, only to find himself again restrained by Alucard’s darkness.
“Had fun?” Alucard studied the Judas Priest. His regeneration ability combined with his new vampiric blood meant that all his wounds had healed, but his clothing was in tatters, his tailored pants all but hanging off his hips, and Alucard purred. Why not, after all. He hadn’t touched Seras this way, but then it hadn’t been necessary then, when she had turned puppet so quickly and therefore bored him. Anderson, however, was struggling and snarling like a provoked dog, his eyes red then blue then red again.
“Bastard, someday ah’ll kill yeh, just watch, kill yeh and hack yer fucken head into pieces an’ douse it in holy water-”
His childe had such a mouth on him for a priest, Alucard mused, as he drew his gloved hands up under the torn vest to cool flanks and kissed Anderson roughly, possessively. There was a startled mewl from the Judas priest that sparked his interest, then a muffled, impotent snarl of rage, teeth closing briefly over his tongue then halting before they broke skin. Anderson didn’t want to risk accidental freedom, it seemed. How cute.
He kissed Anderson until the priest sagged in the grip of the shadows, going slack, his chest heaving in agitated, mimed breaths against Alucard’s stillness, kissed him until the heady scent of the Paladin’s rage mingled thickly with that of arousal. A vampire’s aphrodisiac. Whatever Anderson’s inclinations in life, the blood link between Alucard and him was inflexible, inexorable, particularly in an area where he was least experienced in defense.
It was only when Anderson began to mewl again that Alucard released him, taking him in his arms and settling them on the cold stone, stroking the Paladin’s cheeks, arms, flanks and thighs, soothing, reassuring. He was somewhat out of practice dealing with recalcitrant childer, but blood remembered, and he smirked as he lapped down to the pulse point where he had first bitten Anderson, smirked as the priest’s fingers clawed against the stone as he arched up gasping against Alucard’s body.
He could hurt Anderson into submission, he knew – or try to – toying with the priest head on until Anderson admitted defeat, but such methods tended to break a childe’s spirit and were therefore boring. And besides, he had not felt want for the better part of a century and intended to savor it.
Alex blinked when Alucard shredded his pants and underwear with contemptuous flicks of his wrist, and seemed to focus, shaking his head as if to clear a fog. “Wha’… yeh fucken pervert, Ah won’t let yeh…” The priest hissed, as Alucard closed a cold hand over hardening flesh, stroking idly.
“Then resist me, Alex,” Alucard purred, leaning down so the pointed end of his long tongue encircled the red, fleshy cap, dipping into the wetting tip. Anderson moaned, a hungry sound of uncomprehending need, then squeezed his eyes shut, his lips moving in prayer. Alucard had to grin. “When you keep your eyes closed like that, my pet, everything does feel so much better…”
To demonstrate his point, he sucked lightly at the fleshy head, allowing a fang to graze the taut flesh, and Anderson stifled a cry of ecstasy, his head jerking back against the stone with an audible thump. Alucard looked up to a pair of red eyes glaring at him, malevolent, lustful, pleading. He exerted his will over the blood link, though carefully, not noticeably, as he spoke.
“Do you not want more, Alex?”
“Ah …” The priest’s reply seemed drugged, strangled. “Ah dinnae … this is sin-”
“Monsters aren’t subject to your God, Alex.” Alucard kept his tone seductive, encouraging, as he kept his licks and strokes maddeningly light. “Would you not agree?”
“Ah dinnae ken… Maste-” Anderson bit down hard on his lip, enough to draw blood, suddenly, dispelling the compulsion, and his eyes were angry again. “Fucken tricks, yer fucken tricks, yeh goddamned monster, don’t touch me!”
“Oh-h.” Alucard was impressed, even as he had to pin Anderson’s wrists to the stone using his shadows. “I didn’t do anything to the policewoman, and her will caved in a week. You are very interesting after all, Alex.”
“Go t’hell,” Anderson snarled, and spat in his face, glaring as Alucard merely sneered and bent over him, lapping at the spilled blood from his lip. If he bit Anderson now the ecstasy the priest would feel from the bite would render him pliant enough to be a bedmate, but again, that would not be entertaining at all.
“My Master Integral is displeased with you, priest.” Alucard rolled Anderson’s title mockingly on his tongue, as he opened a few eyes into the rooms of the mansion’s servants, searching until he found a small bottle of lubricant in one of the guardsmen’s dressers. “She does not appreciate your little unauthorized jaunts, particularly into Ireland.”
“What Ah do isnae her fucken business.”
“But it is,” Alucard drawled, as the bottle appeared in his hand. “After all, you’ve willingly submitted yourself to Hellsing, in the hope that we control your monster. Haven’t you.”
“Ah dinnae ken what harm it is, Ah dinnae hurt anyone-”
“Not yet. But my Master would not appreciate the additional hassle of an international incident with the Vatican were your presence made known, or worse, captured.”
“Scared o’ losing a pet monster?” Anderson sneered, watching Alucard unscrew the bottle without any apparent realization of what it meant. Virgins could be so delightful. “Maybe Ah should.”
“They’ll only destroy you and you know it. Then there might be no one left when the scourge reaches Ireland, hn?”
“Ah wouldna think so little o’ the Vatican’s… what the fuck are yeh doin’, yeh pervert-” Alucard grinned wickedly, continuing to stroke the priest’s arousal with a hand while probing his entrance slick, still-gloved fingers, dragging Anderson’s thighs apart with his shadows.
Anderson fought desperately once he felt the cool touch, trying to cede into shadows himself, darkness rippling up his cheeks, the stubble of his jaw, over his scar, his wrists even dissolving for a moment, and again, Alucard was impressed. The priest had managed to improve this much without taking blood or tutoring.
“How magnificent you will be when you are free,” Alucard murmured, and leered as Anderson glared at him. “But I am still far stronger than you, my pet. And you will learn.”
The priest had to concentrate to turn to shadow, and as such instantly snapped back to flesh the moment Alucard took his cock into his throat, gasping, writhing in panic and arching against his restraints. Alucard merely smirked, forcing Anderson’s thighs wider as he pushed the first gloved digit into the priest’s virgin entrance, felt muscle shudder and flutter over the new sensation. As an afterthought, he wrapped a tendril of shadow tight under Anderson’s balls, to forestall his release, then began to suck the cool flesh in his throat in earnest, greedily drinking in Alex’s whines and wanton cries. Untouched, inexperienced, perfect. His.
Perhaps this one, he would not be so quick to set free.
When the priest’s body loosened enough, he pushed in another finger, deeper, crooking to find the nub of flesh, and chuckled, muffled around flesh, as Alex jerked convulsively against the shadows holding him in place, screaming his pleasure.
Hush, hush, my pet. Alucard ‘spoke’ to him through their blood-link, amused at the intensity of Alex’s reaction, and just from a little brush. Do you wish to wake the whole mansion?
“Fuck yeh, yer fucken tricks, yeh bastard, how did’ya… oh God, oh God, forgive me…”
Listen to your cries, Judas Priest. Alucard instructed, as he scissored fingers within the tight, clenching passage. He could feel his own arousal demanding attention, between his legs, but ignored it. Give me your pride, Alex. A languid lap from the base of the priest’s dripping cock to its tip had Anderson bite down again on his lip to forestall a cry. You know you’re already mine.
“Never.” It sounded weak, wrapped around a moan, Anderson’s throat already raw.
“Hmm.” Alucard tired of waiting, coating the rest of the lube around himself as he willed his clothes away, smirking as Alex’s eyes widened at the sudden realization of what was going to happen, his struggles renewing afresh.
“Don’t yeh dare… aah!” Anderson cried out in pain as Alucard pushed into him, his teeth bared in pleasure at the too-tight pressure as Anderson’s body struggled to accommodate his length, inch by slow inch until he buried himself to the hilt, grinning in insane ecstasy. A pity. Such a pity, that he could not have done this when the priest was still warm. He bent down as the priest made strangled, shallow breaths to tongue his neck, felt the cool flesh tremble under his lapping, waiting, until, finally, there was a little mewl, and the pressure gave just enough for him to move.
He kept it slow until he found Anderson’s prostate again, then Alucard gave up some of his control as the priest whimpered, baring his fangs as he began to fuck Anderson roughly into the stone, pounding against the nub of flesh as Anderson’s cries trembled into raw screams, his freed hands clawed tight in Alucard’s pale shoulders. Alucard had forgotten when he had last had this much fun, enough to push the limits of his control, his form already hazy at the edges with writhing shadows, that forced Anderson’s hips higher and pulled his ankles up, allowing Alucard to take the priest deeper, harder, elemental now and inhuman in his lust.
“Ah need… Ah need t’… God, Ah need…” Anderson was babbling, his voice shaky and gasped between groans. “Alucard.”
“Say ‘Master’,” Alucard corrected, flicking his thumb against the priest’s restrained cock, and smirking as Anderson’s expression twisted in frustration.
A strangled cry, a hitched moan, then, sullenly, breathlessly, “Master.”
“Fuck yeh,” Anderson said harshly, breathlessly, his red eyes glazed. The priest was clinging on to his shredded dignity with what was left of his will, and Alucard supposed, maliciously, that he could be content with that. For now. He leant down, sinking his fangs into Anderson’s throat as he released his restraint, felt the priest buck uncontrollably against him and shriek as orgasm took him, riding out the tremors as he felt liquid spurt against his belly.
Only when Anderson’s breathing stilled did Alucard move again, pulling back to hold the priest’s dazed eyes as he took his pleasure from Anderson’s spent frame, gripping his hips and dragging him up to grind as deeply as he could into his ravaged body before finding his release.
“I congratulate you on disciplining your childe,” Integral said dryly, the next time Alucard was summoned. “He still wanders a little, but at least he stays on English soil.”
“It was as you commanded, my Master.” Alucard smirked. The method of discipline had been fun, anyway, and now dear little Alex was adorably skittish around him and had to be chased down whenever Alucard wanted a repeat session.
“But now none of the servants dare to enter the cellars,” Integral said flatly, “What with that unearthly caterwauling that occurs now and then, so unless you wish to maintain your living quarters by yourself, I would advise you to exercise a little restraint.”
“Perhaps Seras…” Alucard paused. No, his other childe may have grown up a little, but she was still hopeless in many ways, and Alucard liked his creature comforts. “Very well, my Master. Perhaps the next time I will gag him. Pity.”
Integral pinched the bridge of her nose. “I do not wish to hear about the details.”
Alucard’s taunt of “Oh?” had Integral shoot several holes in his head, and he laughed maniacally as he faded back through the stone.