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No one would be so foolish as to attempt to sneak up on Lord Dracula. The vampire’s senses were finer than Hector could ever imagine. How did he experience the world, when he was aware of every shift in the air, every heartbeat around him, the smell of emotions? When he was a boy, Hector used to believe that Lord Dracula could even read his mind: the terror at the mere idea that his Lord could discover his most private and intimate thoughts pushed him to repress them, push them in the most remote corner of his mind, and to learn to stay level-headed and detached.
His fears had been unfounded, he had learned but a few months ago. Perhaps Lord Dracula was already aware of the feelings that had been stirring in the boy’s chest for years, or perhaps it was just a fortuitous coincidence. Hector found it hard to think, when the vampire’s lips crushed his, when he whispered loving words in his ear that poured down his back like cool water, when the two of them ended up closer than a Lord and his knight should ever get.
And that could be the reason Hector was so foolish as to attempt to sneak up on Lord Dracula.
But the Lord seemed to be unusually slow in his reactions.
Hector was able to break away from the vampire’s embrace, climb on top of him, and crawl over his body until he could see his face; the Lord simply blinked, vaguely perplexed but no more than that. He reminded Hector of a particularly content cat, and the deep vibrations coming from his chest, which Hector felt in his own, completed the image. And to think that he was one of the very few to have the privilege of seeing his Lord so relaxed, at peace at once.
He was the one who gave him peace.
Hector did not resist the urge to kiss the vampire’s cool lips.
It was a tacit order that Hector had to wait until Lord Dracula had the desire to kiss him: his task was only to comply with the wishes of his Master, and up until now, he had been impeccable. But in all honesty, Hector had grown tired of waiting. The Lord wanted Hector to make him happy, and Hector wanted to make his Lord happy: they were in harmony.
He was old enough, capable enough, to do as expected of him without being commanded like a child. Surely, even Lord Dracula got tired of always holding the reins, didn’t he?
His Lord could trust Hector. He just needed to prove it to him.
Lord Dracula let his protégé kiss him, languidly reciprocating his movements. When Hector moved away to catch his breath, he had a faint smile on his face – perhaps even a faint color in his cheeks, thanks to Hector’s own blood. “And the reason for this, dear?”he asked.
“I wanted to, my Lord. You are wonderful.”
Hector didn’t have a more elaborate answer, nor did he try to find one.
“Ah.” For the first time since Hector had knelt in front of him, the vampire seemed at a loss for words: a shiver of satisfaction ran down his spine. “Your flattery is not a good excuse to forget your place. Looking down on your Lord is inappropriate.”
Hector let his response die in his throat. He didn’t let himself be discouraged by his Lord’s scolding: he was strong and fast enough to push him away, were he inclined to do so. He smiled back, a little wider than how he had learned to do.
“Please stop me if I displease you, my Lord,” he dared to tease. Lord Dracula raised an eyebrow, but did not reply. Hector moved to kiss one of the vampire’s cheeks, then up to his sharp cheekbones, then higher still, to brush his lips on the Lord’s forehead, much like he often did to his protégé.
“You are growing up so fast, precious…”
Lord Dracula held him close, and let himself be cherished.