Moonlight Flower

Shinigami Yumi


presents


Moonlight Flower

Summary: In his fight with a certain silver-haired vampire, Leon chose to save his enemy from fading away. The two become unlikely friends, and Joachim takes Leon as his Host. The years pass as Leon continues to hunt the night with Joachim's aid while searching for Mathias. Meanwhile, Joachim finds himself wanting far more than he already has. JoachimLeon. Possible MathiasLeon and MathiasLeonJoachim later. Implied WalterJoachim. Yes, it's YAOI. You have been warned.

A/N: Writing this chapter saw me running into my next history vs. canon conflict: fashion. After researching period costume, I've come to realize that none of the men's outfits in the game could possibly have been worn during the time. In the end, I decided to go with history for normal day-to-day wear, and the game's relatively more modern fashion for fancy attire. Other than that, people also would not start formally ballroom dancing for centuries, but I'm going to assume people did some sort of coupled dance on the sidelines or something. It lends well to the atmosphere, I think. Besides, vampires largely live outside the norms of human society, so it could possibly be attributed to their "Bohemian" lifestyle..? Also, I feel here a touch of...cliche? Still, I kinda like how it turned out in the end... I don't know... Is anything NOT cliche anymore..? I-I-I'm nervous... Internet cookies and virtual brownies for your thoughts?

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Chapter 5: Kiss From A Rose

“You bastard… You shouldn’t be here… DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Leon awoke to the sound of a harsh cry he hadn’t heard from his friend in years. “Joachim?” he called tentatively, lifting his head from the pillow to glance up at the vampire pacing the room before the fireplace.

It looked like the silver-haired one was conversing with someone…that wasn’t there, another hallucination.

“It’s none of your business,” the Nosferatu hissed vehemently, clawing at what looked like an invisible hand that was now choking him.

Leon sat up and swung his legs off the bed, calling his friend’s name again. Abruptly, Joachim collapsed to his knees on the floor near the wall, gasping for breath.

“No… It won’t happen!!” Claw-like nails dug into pale skin as palms were pressed over pointed ears, drawing blood that stained silver tresses red. “I won’t let it!! Leave us alone!! I don’t want to hear it!!” the other cried, shaking his head in adamant denial.

Leon approached his companion warily, calling the vampire’s name again. For a moment, there was no response; then suddenly, the nightwalker’s head whipped up sharply.

“No!!” Joachim cried desperately. “Give him back, you bastard!!! LEON!!!” he screamed, lunging forward in an attempt to attack his imaginary enemy.

Barely managing to sidestep the lunge in the nick of time thanks to his practiced reflexes, Leon called the other’s name sharply, hoping to pierce through the illusion without a fight, but he only felt a surge of power before the swords in the room rose into the air. This time, it was his turn to lunge at the vampire, making a grab for pale wrists to keep sharp claws out of the way. The silver-haired nightwalker began to struggle even as the swords flew towards them, and the knight made the first defensive manoeuvre that came to mind, hauling them both up against the wall –so that there was no way for the swords to pierce their target without first injuring their wielder in the process– in hopes that Joachim would hesitate, and locked his arms as tightly as possible around his friend to restrain him. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the illness took its leave, and several blades clattered to the stone floor as Joachim gasped.

“So warm…” came a breathy whisper. The struggling Nosferatu abruptly relaxed completely in his arms, strong body growing fully limp, and tilted his head backwards slightly to glance up at him. “Leon..?” Bluish gray eyes were filled with vulnerable confusion, and the other’s body language spoke of absolute submission, a clear message of cessation in fighting and one he was familiar with. It was how he’d always known exactly when to stop whenever he’d had to fight Joachim in the past; the silver-haired one would always make an unmistakable gesture of surrender.

“Yes, Joachim… It is I,” he replied in a reassuring murmur, adjusting his hold to support the other’s weight. “Nothing’s happened. Everything’s all right…”

Joachim let his head drop forward and shook it slightly as if to clear away the haze on his muddled thoughts. “I… What… Where…” he mumbled uncertainly. “Leon… What am I…”

“It’s all right, Joachim. He’s gone. Nothing is going to happen,” Leon said firmly, helping his friend over to the bed.

Joachim didn’t protest, but caught sight of his hands out of the blue and stared blankly at blood-encrusted claws as he was helped under the covers. The instant the knight pulled back, he reached up hesitantly to brush his fingertips lightly to a warm cheek, his eyes filled with trepidation. “Did…Did I hurt you?” he asked hesitantly, almost not wanting to know the answer.

The human’s hand closed over his own cold one in a confident grip, and clear blue eyes looked into his own with certainty as his Host resolutely told him, “No, you hurt yourself. You always do.”

He sighed wearily with relief, closing blue-gray eyes. “That’s…good…”

Leon didn’t see how hurting oneself was at all good, but did not argue, instead moving to his side of the bed to return to sleep; Joachim had always cared deeply about his welfare, so it wasn’t unusual that his first concern was whether or not he’d hurt him in his moment away from reality. He lay down beside his companion, contemplating the night’s events. The first night of the ball had passed without incident. After a fair number of guests had arrived, Countess Elune Lucienda had performed the opening ceremony of slitting her wrist with a golden ceremonial dagger to let a few drops of her blood flow into the topmost of a pyramid of wine glasses before fine white whine had been poured into that glass to cascade into the rest. After she had presented the topmost glass to Lady Sushmeeta Jahan, the hostess of the previous ball, as was custom, festivities akin to many human celebrations had begun. Humans were not expected to partake of the “special” wine, and the “normal” cuisine and beverage served had been excellent.


Joachim had conversed briefly with several acquaintances, introducing him as his Host affectionately, and practically never left his side. Despite his protests that he wasn’t very good at dancing, his Master had insisted on at least one dance for time away from the crowd, and he’d reluctantly consented; the other vampires often ignorantly enquired about Walter, and it had been souring the “young” Nosferatu’s mood like nothing else could. The musicians had also been first-rate, and one dance had led to another as his friend gracefully led him across the floor. Had it been possible to forget their surroundings and circumstances, he would have rather enjoyed himself. Indeed, he couldn’t say he’d had a bad time. Yet, even though things had gone smoothly thus far, Joachim was clearly sufficiently troubled about the risks they were taking with this adventure to suffer a relapse.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the movement beside him until he was startled by their proximity. He gave his companion a questioning look.

“It’s cold,” Joachim lied, wanting a reason, any excuse to be close to his Host, the source of his remaining sanity.

To his surprise, the blond wound an arm around him to draw him closer. He gasped as he found himself lying on his side with his head resting on the human’s warm chest, but he knew better than to take the gesture the wrong way. He closed his eyes, saying nothing and listening to the sound of his knight’s heartbeat.

How can it be possible, he wondered to himself sadly, for one to be so filled with joy, and at once ache so deeply with anguish? Hold me, Leon… Hold me, and let’s pretend…just for a little while…

They remained that way for the rest of the night.

---===***===---

Leon sipped at his glass of red wine where he sat at a small table for two tucked away behind a large pillar in the main hall on the third night of the Ball. There were tables of varying sizes, some for two or four persons and some large round or long rectangular ones for bigger groups, all covered in wine red tablecloths and laden with fine china dinnerware and expensive golden cutlery. Joachim had been reluctantly led away to the dance floor by an old acquaintance after repeated assurances that Leon would be fine on his own for several minutes, and there was still no sign of Mathias. Despite that, Leon fingered the fine golden chains that held his long fur-trimmed sleeveless white leather coat closed in front, feeling ill at ease among the throng of blood-drinkers no matter how civilized they appeared that night. The musicians played well, and many dancing couples swished gracefully across the hall to the popular piece they performed. It would have been a relaxed and sophisticated ambience had it not been a Nosferatu function.


He found his fingers toying with the long sleeve of the rather tight-fitting dark blue high-collared silk tunic embroidered with gold thread to resemble coarse netting that he wore under the coat and sighed, still unable to shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. Perhaps it was simply his insecurity in Joachim’s absence, since he was unarmed and unable to adequately defend himself. Suddenly, just as he reached for his glass to take another sip of wine, a vampire he did not know sat himself down in Joachim’s chair uninvited. Leon tensed, feeling his pulse quicken, hand immediately dropping to grab a whip that wasn’t there. The stranger looked slightly older than him, although he was certain that their age difference was measured at least in decades if not in centuries, and rather devilishly attractive in his red waistcoat and black breeches, what with his piercing obsidian gaze and short ebony curls brushed casually into a charming mess.

Remembering his manners, Leon schooled his face into a polite smile and inclined his head respectfully, surreptitiously eyeing the younger male that hovered behind the other warily as he greeted, “Good evening, milord.”

That one seemed human and from a distant land to the far east. Part of his long black hair had been cut short to frame his face, while the rest had been gathered into a long thick braid that reached his waist when draped over his right shoulder. He wore a thick black silk robe embellished with ornate golden floral brocade and fastened with a sash at his slender waist, exposing only his hands and feet in black socks and wooden clogs. Leon would have thought him a woman were it not for the obvious Adam’s apple.

“Good evening, human. Alone tonight? Has your Master or Mistress abandoned you in favour of an old friend?” the vampire asked in a mellow bass with a Roman accent. His tone was openly flirtatious, and the way he enunciated the word ‘friend’ was deeply laden with insinuation. He also reeked of alcohol, perhaps from one too many glasses of wine.

“My master is dancing with an acquaintance of his and should be returning shortly, Lord..?”

“Rafael Bertolli of Genoa,” finished the stranger. “And now that I have given you my name, you must tell me yours.”

Something about the Roman reminded Leon subtly of a corrupted Mathias, and the blond didn’t like it. “Leon Blanchett. From Normandy.”

“Leon,” the other pronounced the name slowly, deliberately. “Leon…” A cold hand reached across the table to cover his own, and the hunter repressed a shiver of revulsion and the urge to snatch his hand away through sheer force of will as he felt goosepimples emerging all over his skin. “Would you extend me the pleasure of your company tonight, Leon?”

“I think, Lord Bertolli,” Leon began, carefully extricating his hand. “You should discuss this matter with my master, Joachim Armster.” He rose hurriedly. “Please excuse me. I would like to retire for the night.” He turned to leave, hoping to get away as quickly as possible.

In a flash, Rafael was at his side, and he backed up against the nearby pillar to put some distance between them. “I would be happy to escort you there.”

“Thank you for your concern, Lord Bertolli,” Leon said, edging around the pillar slowly to escape. “But I really think my Master wouldn’t like that very much,” he added, wondering if it were possible for vampires to suffer from alcoholic intoxication.

“Kazuya would be happy to accompany Lord Armster in your place,” the vampire riposted evenly, planting a hand firmly beside his neck in the granite to block his escape.

“I highly doubt that is the point, milord,” Leon replied through gritted teeth, a sense of panic rising in his blood as he moved in the other direction to once more attempt to flee.

“Surely he would understand a request of passion, Leon…” Rafael murmured, catching him between the legs in a move to prevent his getaway and hold him in place, fondling his crotch in a way that was clearly intended to arouse through the tight-fitting dark blue suede breeches he wore.

Biting his lip to keep from drawing attention to himself, the blond decided that it was indeed probably possible. Much to his horror and self-disgust, he could feel his body gradually responding to that revolting touch the way it had been intended to affect him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the atrocity. He knew well enough that he was no match for a Nosferatu in brute strength, and using holy implements, even if he’d had them, was out of the question here, so fighting would be a case in futility. Leon was aghast at himself. Had it really been so long since he’d last made love to Helena that his body would respond so readily to even this basest, most repulsive of stimulation? Just as he considered the unfavourable idea of calling for help, the sickening touch abruptly vanished, and he was pulled up against a familiar body. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a frighteningly livid Joachim with one arm protectively around him and a hand gripping Rafael’s wrist tightly.

“I do believe, sir, that this far oversteps the limits of flirtation,” his Master said slowly in controlled fury, tightening his grip for emphasis.

Joachim’s old acquaintance, a “young” vampiress with shoulder-length chestnut curls and big turquoise eyes who looked to be about thirteen in her pastel pink silk and chiffon dress, twirled out from behind him to helpfully chip in with a wink, “I think that is called molestation, Lord Bertolli. And I will warn you that no one does ‘possessive’ quite like Joachim here,” in her high-pitched child’s voice that sounded rather too cheery and sing-song for the occasion.

“My apologies, Lord Armster, Lady McCarthy,” the Roman said hastily. The vice-like grip around his wrist must hurt terribly; Leon knew better than anyone Joachim’s violent tendencies under the spell of wrath. “Will you not even consider an exchange? I can assure you that Kazuya will provide you with a pleasant and memorable night,” he proposed, presenting the youth beside him who bowed graciously.

“Uh-oh…” the girl Joachim had introduced as Misty McCarthy interjected, wisely taking a step back.

“Genovese swine,” Joachim spat, the joint popping in his grip. “How dare you propose something so preposterously shameless as an exchange after accosting my Host against his will without my permission?!”

“Lord Armster, surely y—”

“You listen to me, vile bastard. Carefully,” his companion cut in with startling vehemence, the hand at his waist dropping to his groin to work his stiffening member with fierce precision.

Leon barely managed to silence a gasp, while Misty and Kazuya both blushed at the primal display of possession. He found himself leaning against the other’s side heavily as his knees grew weak, his breathing grew ragged and his midriff seemed to melt into a pool of burning lava. While the Genovese vampire’s touch had filled him with disgust, Joachim’s was one he knew and trusted, and the familiarity was all it took to fully ignite the spark of desire, setting his entire body aflame in an inferno of lust and need.

This is wrong, he told himself desperately. I should not feel this way! But his body was treacherously refusing to listen to reason as his hands fisted in his Master’s coat.

“The only one allowed to touch him here is me,” Joachim declared angrily, even as Leon grew fully erect in his hand and began to tremble slightly. “And no one else will have that right except through me.”

It took all of the blond’s self-control to still his hips against the reflex to thrust into those expert fingers. He whimpered, unable to help himself. “Too…much… Ah… Jo—Master…” he whispered breathlessly, the words almost lost in the moan he failed to silence as he felt the moisture of precum forming on sensitive flesh.

Suddenly, the silver-haired vampire seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped, but kept his arm around his Host’s waist to support the hunter’s weight. “Know that,” he bit out, flinging the offending Nosferatu’s hand back at its owner with such violence that the other staggered back into their table. “…and get out of my sight before I see fit to break the Winter Armistice.” He turned on his heel, half-dragging and half-carrying Leon with him. “Excuse us, Misty,” he murmured to his friend stiffly, and stormed away, leaving Rafael nursing his injured hand under the attention of an anxious Kazuya.

---===***===---

Joachim loudly slammed the door of the room he shared with Leon shut in the blaze of wrath that clouded his senses as he roughly pushed his Host away from him towards the centre of the room, barely noticing the blond’s stumble as he stalked over to the bed to throw himself onto it face down. He was furious, furious at that Genovese depravity for daring to lay hands on what he himself could not freely possess, angry at Leon for allowing such outrage instead of calling to him for help, but most of all, he was irate at himself for both his negligence and the way he’d reacted to the affront. He too had overstepped his boundaries, and it was too late even to regret it deeply. Touching Leon the way he’d always wanted to had awakened in him the all-consuming longing that had never sunk far beneath the surface of his consciousness, and the memory of having that warm and familiar body pressed flush against his own haunted and tormented him now, opening up a vacuum of need in him that left every fibre of his being crying out for what he craved so desperately. How could he have done something so foolish even in anger?


Leon moved towards the door slowly, not trusting his legs for they felt wobbly beneath him. He locked it and drew the curtain over it, uneasily glancing in the direction of the bed. Clearly, Joachim was upset over what had happened. He knew how worried his friend was about remaining here; this was akin to a realization of the vampire’s fears for him. Still, he was safe now; everything was alright. What then was the matter? Tentatively, he walked towards the other, ignoring the heated pulsing in his pelvis, and almost stopped when his companion tensed at the sound of his approaching footsteps. Was Joachim cross at him for allowing such an insult to his pride, angry that he hadn’t called out for help? Gingerly, he sat down on the bed beside that cold body and placed a comforting hand upon a tense shoulder.

“Joachim… I’m really sorry…” he murmured gently, trailing off hesitantly. “But it’s alright n—”

In a trice, Joachim was sitting up, knees folded. “No, it’s not alright, Leon!!” the vampire nearly shouted while throwing a punch violently at the granite wall above the bed’s ornate headboard in his frustration. “How dare he..?!” Another punch. “I should never have left you there alone!!” He hit the wall again, and Leon could almost swear he heard a crack that he wasn’t sure was the stone. “And then I even s—”

Leon swiftly caught his friend’s hand before it could strike the wall once more; the pale fist was already bleeding. “Stop it! It’s not like you knew it would happen!” He covered the injured hand with his own, not for the first time thankful for the Nosferatu’s accelerated healing abilities. “Don’t hurt yourself, Joachim. And it’s not like you had a choice back there a—”

“I wanted to, dammit!!” Joachim nearly screamed, pinning him to the bed by the shoulders in a flash of motion his human eyes failed to catch.

A long moment of tense silence passed between them, both too shocked to speak. Leon wasn’t sure he’d understood that outburst right, but seeing as Joachim was now hanging his head to avoid his gaze completely, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “What?” The word came out as a hoarse whisper; his voice failing him.

Joachim hesitated. “I…” What could he say? How could he have let that slip on top of everything he’d done? “Leon, I… I did—” He cut himself off. I cannot… I cannot lie to him. If it is honour that sets me apart from them… “Leon, I… I’m sorry… I…” he trailed off, not knowing how to say the words now that he’d decided to be honest. How indeed did you tell your strictly religious straight best friend that you’d spent the last decade in love with and lusting after him?

“Joachim..?” A warm hand touched his cheek lightly with concern.

He gasped as his body trembled with desire and need, the throbbing ache in his groin intensifying to a kind of pain. “I want you,” he whispered at last, no longer able to keep the truth from spilling forth. “I always have. All of these ten years, I have only loved and longed for you, and every time I held you in my arms to drink from you, the temptation was almost beyond resisting. The intensely sensual connection of feeding coupled with my own feelings makes it difficult for me to think in any other way. Sometimes… Sometimes when you slept, I would think of you…and touch myself…before drinking from you because the Nosferatu are unable to achieve orgasm without feeding,” he admitted, ashamed and afraid. “I… All this time, wanting to touch you that way… I was so incensed that he dared lay his filthy hands on what I could not possess. And I was angry at you for letting him, Leon; I’m sorry…so sorry…”

Leon lay, frozen and speechless, looking up at his closest friend in utter shock, at a complete loss for how to react to the revelation he’d just received. What could he say? Thinking back now, he realized that his Master had hinted at the truth repeatedly throughout the past decade, often complimenting the palatability of his blood after once remarking that the Nosferatu are able to “taste” a person’s personality in their blood, and he’d always been too blissfully ignorant to notice. He’d never once given a thought to all the unusually tender touches, the intense concern for his feelings and welfare, or the negative way the vampire had always responded to the mention of Sara and Helena. How foolish and callous of him not to have known from such clear signs! Yet, even if he had known earlier, what difference would it have made? He could neither give the other what he desired nor force his feelings to change. Much to his horror, Joachim’s confession had only reinforced his arousal, and he couldn’t quite maintain coherent thought. He had to stop.

“Joachim… I… You…” He licked his lips; his mouth was dry. “We’re both men,” he protested weakly, silently praying that Joachim wouldn’t touch him now because he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of passion if he did. “This is wrong… a sin…”

“I know…” That familiar velvety baritone sounded so forlorn and small, it wrenched painfully at Leon’s heart. “I apologize, Leon… I… I’m such a monster…” Joachim whispered dejectedly, leaning closer.

“No,” Leon quickly interrupted, shaking his head. “You know that isn’t true, Joachim. Don’t say that.”

“But that is what you think, is it not?” his companion challenged quietly, troubled blue-gray eyes finally meeting his own in jarring proximity.

“I…” He faltered just like he had three days ago. “No…” I don’t think so…do I..?

“Perhaps…if I were human…you would…you could love me…” The words were murmured despondently, barely louder than a breath, an instant before soft lips brushed against his own.

Leon felt himself begin to respond when he remembered. Helena. Gabriel. Wife and child waiting faithfully for his safe return. “I…I can’t.” He pulled away, resolutely not looking at the other, afraid he wouldn’t be able to resist the pure longing in blue-gray eyes. “I… I’m a father. I cannot do this… Truly, I’m sorry,” he explained hurriedly, wanting to avoid a misunderstanding that would hurt Joachim’s feelings. He cared for his friend deeply, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to lie with his surreally beautiful companion; indeed, the attraction was undeniable what with the way his entire body thrummed with desire at the very thought of simply being in that cold embrace despite his repeated protests that the other was very male and that his feelings were unnatural. However, he could not betray his marriage to Helena. It was bad enough that she’d never truly had his heart. To deprive her of even his loyalty was too cruel. If he couldn’t give her love, he could at least give her honour. Feeling helpless and desperate to avoid the painfully tense and awkward silence that followed, he carefully rose to his feet as his Master straightened slowly on his knees, the back of one hand pressed to cold lips and silver hair hanging down his bowed head to obscure his face. “I…I’ll have them draw a bath,” Leon announced stiffly, walking towards the door.

A choked gasp was the only response he heard behind him as he leaned out into the corridor to inform a serving girl of his request. When he turned back, the thick wine red velvet curtains had been drawn around the bed to hide its occupant’s private anguish. Joachim was probably devastated, and it pained Leon to think that he had only given the other more emotional wounds, but alas, it was inevitable. At a total loss for what to say or do, he settled for simply sitting silently before the fireplace to wait for the hot water. He did not have to wait long, although the silent minutes passed like hours frozen in time. Soon, he was alone in the tub of fragrant steaming water, wondering with more than a little concern if it was safe to leave the somewhat unstable Joachim Armster alone to his thoughts at this time.

And yet, what else can I do? I can no more grant his wish than ease the brutal strike of my rejection. Forgive me, my friend…

The opening of the door behind him interrupted his reverie, and he dared not look back at the silver-haired male. Much to his relief, the other’s velvety baritone was calm and matter-of-fact when it spoke. “I…cannot bear cold baths.”

Leon turned slightly and rose to leave, so that the other could bathe. Although they usually bathed together, wisdom indicated it was a bad idea tonight. Careful not to face Joachim directly, he fetched a towel from the line of hooks on the wall and wrapped it around his waist. Just as he turned to leave, however, cool arms tentatively wound around him to pull him close.

“Please…” The hoarse whisper was plaintive, yearning. “Just let me touch you…”

No… he wanted to protest, but in that instant wherein their bodies pressed together, he could only moan helplessly as the flames of desire reignited full force in his loins and gasp at the intensity of each sensation on every sensitized nerve ending. His body melted against the other’s as his blood became liquid fire, and he could only pant his partner’s name breathlessly as the towel fell to the floor unheeded and sharp nails scraped his nether regions lightly in what should not have been as unbearably arousing a gesture as it was. His hips bucked involuntarily as a hand closed around his painfully erect member, clear blue eyes rolling back in semi-delirium when it stroked him roughly for the second time that night. He barely noticed as Joachim half-carried him back into the tub. In the steaming water, even cold flesh felt warm where he sat on the vampire’s lap with their legs entwined and his left hand gripping the stone edge of the tub till his knuckles were white. No longer capable of coherent thought, he tilted his head back to rest on the other’s left shoulder, and the arms around him tightened in an urgent need for contact.

Joachim exhaled shakily against the human’s jugular, whence he’d drunk from many a time, as his hunter’s throat was exposed temptingly as if in silent offering; he felt his fangs extend instinctively, but he firmly told himself to wait. Instead, he pressed his lips to the blond’s slightly parted ones, deepening his exploration to taste his Host’s warm mouth and guiding the other’s tongue with his own until they intertwined to coax the kiss they shared into his own mouth for him to suckle suggestively on the soft muscle, swirling his tongue around the tip of his partner’s in the exact same way he thumbed the tip of the shaft in his hand. Leon’s libido-heated body slid deliciously against his own as the former knight thrust into his hand almost frantically, aquamarines darkened with lust and unfocused with ecstasy, and he wondered absently if he was perhaps taking advantage of the man’s months of sexual inactivity. He felt his own hips jerk reflexively in response to the hot friction caused by his lover’s wanton reactions to his touch where his own arousal was pressed into the split of the baron’s rear and realized how close he was, how close they both were.


Wanting their interlude to last a little longer, he moved instead to run his hands over fair wet skin, tracing the few scars slick with water. Leon broke their kiss for need of air, and he began trailing kisses down the blond’s jaw, neck and collarbone, murmuring his lover’s name lovingly against that warm body as he slid his left hand down his hunter’s left arm to interlace their fingers and pull that hand towards him; he kissed white knuckles tenderly. Just then, the human’s other hand that had been gripping his thigh tightly all this while abruptly slid back to press against an especially sensitive spot, and Joachim cried out sharply with ecstasy, accidentally nicking the nipple he had been toying with slightly with his sharp claw-like nail. Leon barely winced but made a soft sound of pleasure when cool moist lips covered the nub to lap up the thin line of blood, while it took most of Joachim’s willpower not to come just as those few drops passed his lips. It had been far too long, and he could taste everything his lover was feeling.


His hand found itself tangled in soft blond curls under water as it wound around the human’s erection once more, eliciting a breathless cry. Leon’s fingers curled unthinkingly, stroking that sweet spot, and Joachim could only hold his beloved more tightly and call on the nobleman’s name like a prayer as he inhaled deeply of that unique scent mingled with that of the flowers and herbs in the water. His lips found Leon’s again, and he was happily surprised to find the blond returning his kiss lovingly this time as he plundered that warm mouth with abandon. When a wet hand reached up to pet his hair warmly, he almost cried tears of joy at the hunter’s acceptance. Even if it could never be enough, this instant made everything worthwhile. He cupped a flushed cheek affectionately in a brief expression of tenderness before trailing a caress down a slender jaw and throat. It was time. He broke the kiss they shared as he opened his Host’s jugular with a single blue nail, and immediately pressed his lips to it as he continued to pump the organ in his hand, feeling their emotions and sensations meld and overlap through their connection.


Leon gasped sharply and cried out, his body shuddering with climax as he was milked for all he was worth while his Master came behind him. Their hands had somehow found each other again, and he interlaced their fingers more closely as he rode out the remaining spasms. He had to admit, much to his shame, that it had been the most intense sexual experience he’d ever had, and he was aghast that it had been with another male. Joachim knew well how to touch a man, and he had been far too weak to resist temptation. He didn’t blame the vampire, however; the past ten years of self-restraint must have been pure torment for the silver-haired one, and he felt a sincere respect for his companion’s ability to hold himself back and hide his true desires and feelings for so long. Moreover, he was touched by the other’s respect for his faith that had kept him from making any attempts all these years. He didn’t move from where he lay, completely spent and relaxed in the other’s arms, when the incision on his neck was gently licked shut, and allowed himself to be pulled into an affectionate embrace as Joachim leaned back to make them both comfortable in the tub.

For a long time, they simply lay in silence, holding hands, neither knowing how or what to say about the events of the past minutes. Finally, Joachim whispered a question, “Why?”

Leon blinked, then thought he understood. “Why did I not stop you?” he asked for clarification.

Behind him, the nightwalker only nodded.

“I…couldn’t resist,” he admitted quietly, resisting the urge to cross himself in front of his undead companion. “The instant you…” He halted, embarrassed. “…your body pressed against mine, it was as if all my self-control had simply melted away, so help me, God. And later…it was too late to turn back. I found myself wanting to touch you, and because it made no difference after how much I had already transgressed, I gave in. I guess I was hoping to make this once worth everything you’d been through all this time.” He paused as something occurred to him. “Why did you not go all the way? You knew I was too far gone to stop you.”

The vampire made a soft sound of self-deprecation as he reached up to caress his cheek with the knuckles of his free hand. “You would have hated me for it.”

Leon tilted his head back to look up at his dearest friend. “It would have made no difference to me after what we’d already done.”

Joachim’s hand stilled and fell away. “I…I apologize…”

“You needn’t keep apologizing. I could never hate you.” Leon let out a self-derisive chuckle. “I cannot even hate Mathias after everything that he has put me through. I’m disappointed in him, I’m upset with him, I’m angry at him, and I pity him even, but I do not hate him. How could I ever hate you?”

The other sighed a little with relief as he buried his face in damp blond hair. “Hush, Leon… My desire for you can never be slaked, you must know. You mustn’t tempt me with such kind words. I am indecently obsessed, I know, and I fear what my longing can drive me to in time. Look at what became of them both, Walter and Mathias, two men lost in their obsessions, one for relief from boredom and the other for vengeance for lost love. I do not wish to turn out like them, and yet, slowly but surely, I feel myself gravitating towards that end. It frightens me, Leon.”

Leon squeezed the hand in his own warmly, somewhat surprised at the Nosferatu’s sudden unflinching honesty. Hesitantly, he said, “Promise me you will not make me kill you someday.”

“Leon…”

“I don’t want to…not after Sara and Mathias… I’ve had enough.”

Joachim trembled as a wave of raw emotion abruptly crashed over him, and he tightened his embrace. “I love you, Leon Belmont, with all my being,” he declared thickly. “If I ever hurt you, just say the word, and I will gladly drive a stake through my own heart.”

“Do not utter such terrible things.”

“I promise you.”

A pause. “You must know that I can never do this again.”

Joachim sighed, more deeply this time. “I understand… Still, forgive me a night’s selfishness and hold me?”

Leon turned and wrapped his arms around that cold body in response, feeling an affectionate urge to warm it as he inhaled the familiar musty scent in silky soft silver hair. He understood now the change in his undying confidant. There were no longer any use for pretences or barriers between them, no longer any reason for foolish pride. They had both come a long way together, and even if they could not continue their journey forward, they understood each other now, and their mutual trust was complete. It was not at all a bad stagnation they faced. All of the night’s tension had dissolved into a comfortable peace, and he was glad for it, despite the burden of their sin upon his soul. They continued to embrace each other for several moments before rising to towel off and dress in simple but warm tunics and pants of wool and cashmere for bed. Still feeling somewhat damp, they settled to dry off by the fireplace, Leon sitting facing it with his knees slightly bent and Joachim lying on the rug with his head resting in the baron’s lap. It was then, as he stared into the flames with a hand slowly carding through damp silver tresses, that Leon recalled something, a question he should probably have asked over ten years ago.

“Joachim..?”

The other merely turned his head to look up at him questioningly.

“Earlier…at the end, I felt something familiar…like a thousand fingers were caressing every nerve ending in my body, a perfect sensation of ecstasy. I remember it…from the castle over a decade ago…”

“The day you chose to save me,” Joachim affirmed quietly, somewhat dreading the question that he knew was to come.

“Did you…was it a dream?” Leon queried tentatively at last.

The vampire sighed again. “I did,” he admitted reluctantly. “It was no dream.”

“So…since then..?”

“That I loved you? Perhaps. When I first tasted your blood, I was just struck by the person that you are. I had fully intended to kill you before that, but in that single moment, I changed my mind. More likely than not, it started off then as a simple infatuation, and then as time passed and I came to know you better, I truly fell for you.”

“This question is ten years late, but why did you?”

“I needed to feed rather badly, and I thought I would never see you again, since no one had ever defeated Walter before. Just that once, at least, I had to know you. I apologize.”

Leon shook his head. It scarcely mattered now in light of recent events and after so many years. “It is what it is, the past.”

Joachim smiled genuinely then. “Thank you.”

Now it was the blond’s turn to sigh. “This much I can say to you, my friend. Were you not a man and I not married, I would gladly share with you my life and my name. Surely by now you must know that I do not hold your lineage against you.” A moment later, he blinked, suddenly realizing what he had just said. Yet, he found no lie in his carelessly uttered words. Had he too loved his Master all along? Was that the true reason why he’d never felt more than fond affection for Helena? Perhaps he had been lying to himself right from the start. God forgive me, he prayed silently. I am far more of a sinner than first I thought.

The Nosferatu’s smile grew wistful at that. Had he not known his Host to be such a fiercely religious man, he would have asked why it mattered, but one of the things that had drawn him to the former knight had been that high standard of morality and principle; he knew better than to question it. “It’s enough for me…” he said finally. “…that you bear such a sentiment.”

He rose then, extending his hand to his companion to help the human to his feet and lead him to the bed. He was content with that. As long as his feelings were returned and he had Leon’s heart, it was alright if their relationship would never again be sexual. They lay down, and he rest his head on a warm chest, listening to the steady heartbeat within it. His beloved wound an arm around him, and he smiled as he closed his eyes to sleep, finally at peace. Meanwhile, Leon mulled over the days to come, wondering how to go on. It seemed like cruel irony at its best, a vampire hunter in love with his own sworn enemy. Then again, one of the worst of their kind had once been his best friend, and even now, his feelings for the Mathias he had known hadn’t changed. After his initial anger and bitterness had faded, every reminder of Mathias only brought him pain.


He squeezed his eyes shut. He still didn’t know how he would deal with Mathias if they met here. To add to his list of uncertainties, he now had to face Helena and Gabriel when he returned. He fisted the hand at his side as guilt assailed him. He wouldn’t lie to them, but he could only hope she wouldn’t take it too hard. He had failed as a husband. She truly deserved far better. He sighed again. How well could she take it, really? Not only had he been unfaithful, he was also bisexual and in love with a creature of the night. He’d be thanking God profusely if a respectable lady of her proper sensibilities didn’t run away screaming. Heaving yet another sigh, he tried to sleep, thankful that Joachim seemed to have already drifted off. It wouldn’t be good if he got the wrong idea, and it wasn’t something Leon wanted to discuss presently. Besides, there was no point in perpending this matter until he’d made it out of this place alive, which despite his best optimism, really wasn’t a given. Feeling like he’d been sighing all night, he gave up trying to sleep and simply closed his eyes to rest.

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A/N: Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter. Thank you for reading.