I don't own the characters, this would never be allowed on CBBC.
I have a story to update, a sequel to start and an alarm set for four hours from now. Obviously the idea time to get up and write a one-shot.
This is AU - Vladimir Dracula does not exist here, The Count didn't realise Sally was pregnant and so never adopted him. Adam Giles has grown up a perfectly ordinary boy. Mostly. And we'll gently ignore that Ingrid would be dead without Vlad by the time this story takes place.
Warnings for slightly underage - the night of his 16th birthday to be precise.
This ended up being considerably longer than I expected... enjoy?
-YD-
Adam Giles was buzzing with excitement. It was the day before his sixteenth birthday and almost as soon as the sun went down, his girlfriend would be climbing in through his window. But first, a little backstory about himself.
His mother, Sally Giles, had never been anything but honest about not really knowing who his father was, claiming a one-night drunken mistake. Not that Adam was a mistake, Sally had fought tooth and nail to keep him, he knew that, his grandparents saying she was too young and should have given him up for adoption. A few years later, Sally had had a brief relationship with another man, which ended after six months but led to the birth of his younger sister Georgina (who will only answer to George, as early as he could remember she hated her name). The kids at their old school had been harsh about his mother having two children by two fathers, neither of whom were in the picture, but Adam knew better. His mother was a wonderful woman, freelance sculptor, enthusiastic recyclist and worked every evening teaching classes in different kinds of art to support her children.
George was about to start secondary school, Adam was just turning fourteen and they had moved to a small place called Stokely, so George could start over at a new school without technically being 'the new kid', and Adam could have a chance to live in a more rural area - he'd always been fond of late night walks and his mother was never thrilled about him doing so in the city of London. So, up and off they went to the little Welsh town. Registering at Stokely Grammar, Adam hadn't really noticed much difference. It rained more, but there was so much more open space for him to explore and it filled him with a sense of peace every time he went out walking. Up to this point, his life was fairly ordinary. Meeting Ingrid Count had been anything but.
She joined the school part way through the year, and Adam, like every other male in the building, had been struck by the beautiful girl. He hung back, not wanting to look too much like a drooling sap - she had the Branagh twins for that. She rarely met anyones eyes, preferring to look away and pretend she wasn't paying attention. Which gave Adam plenty of time to pay attention to her. The smooth curve of her jaw as she spoke with her unique accent - Romanian and Welsh equally affected. His own accent had quickly adapted, and most people had stopped asking where he lived before Wales. She had full, pouting lips that transfixed him whenever he saw her talking, eating, even scowling. He longed to trace the curve of her lips with his fingers, his tongue, anything. Even though she rarely looked directly at anyone, Adam could have picked the exact silvery shade of blue they were out of a thousand choices.
He made sure to sit where he could hear her in the communal areas - she was the year above him in school so he couldn't see her in classes, though he heard she didn't actually attend that many. He listened to her tear down most of the boys who fawned over her, but it never deterred them for long, not that he blamed them. Ingrid Count was perfection personified. He listened to her talk about herself constantly, though she barely had to say a thing to keep the stalker-twins hanging on her every word. His behaviour wasn't creepy, he was simply... observing.
The first time they looked at each other had been an accident, he'd been tying up his shoelace and stood up too fast, she'd been looking at her nails and not where she was going and they almost collided. He could smell the scent of her perfume and committed it to memory before looking up at her face - he may never be this close to her again. As their eyes met, he felt something... deep echo inside him, and the surprised look on her face made him wonder if she felt it too. The moment broke when the gorilla twins who followed her everywhere threatened him for touching her, and Ingrid blinked away her surprise before shoving past him. Adam hadn't washed that jacket for months after - Ingrid had touched it!
His mother, to her credit, hadn't questioned his clothes becoming darker and darker, letting him go through his "goth phase" just as she had - he'd been concieved at Whitby Goth Festival after all. Ingrid had even cast an appraising eye his way once or twice, though he wondered if she liked the way he looked, or simply liked the clothes themselves. A collective sigh ran through the schools male population after the Valentines Ball, where it became obvious Ingrid was dating Will Clarke. Adam had left the party early, unable to watch her gaze happily into his eyes the way he longed for her to do to him. The day after she turned sixteen, Ingrid had disappeared from school. Adam had his fifteenth birthday and tried to move on with his life, keeping up his grades, protecting his sister and strolling around the rural fields at night. The Branagh twins had mentioned seeing Ingrid in the cinema with Will once, saying they'd had a fight but made up.
One night, about a month or so after Ingrid had left Stokely Grammar, Adam had been walking back home. Cutting across a field near the castle, he scowled as thunder rolled overhead - it would begin to rain when he was only ten minutes from home. The castle had a long driveway, so it was unusual to actually hear anything from up there. So something seriously loud had to be happening as Adam heard strange sounds, screaming and hissing and burning. Remembering the strange reputation the castle had, Adam steered clear and jogged on home. He'd almost forgotten all about it two months later, out on one of his newer walking routes around the local parks - he'd avoided them at first, worried about gangs but it turned out there was very little issue with that here. It was really obvious he was a city boy sometimes. Shrugging off his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder, sweaty in the muggy air tonight, Adam remembered he'd need to put it back on before he went home - his mother would go spare if he turned up without it and she waited up for him sometimes.
Hearing a creak from the direction of the park, Adam whipped round, prepared to run if he had to. A flash of pale skin under the dim streetlights caught his attention. Creeping closer and trying to look nonchalant about it, Adam recognised Ingrid Count on the swings alone. Deciding he'd be anything but a gentleman if he didn't check she was ok, he padded over to her. She seemed different, colder and darker than he remembered. Sitting on the swing next to her, he noticed she was wearing only a sleeveless top and skirt, hardly midnight outdoor wear. Immediate instincts kicking in, he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders before stepping back to his swing. It seemed to take her a minute to even realise what was going on, confusion creasing her perfect face as she looked at the jacket around her bare shoulders. She turned to look for the source of the mystery clothing, finding Adam looking at her in what he hoped wasn't a creepy stalker kind of way.
"I know you, you go to that school I left?" Adam nodded, extending his hand. "Adam Giles, I'm in the year below you." Ingrid seemed to contemplate him for a minute, avoiding his eyes before reaching out a slim, pale hand and grasping his. "Ingrid Count". Her eyes flickered up to his, just for a second and he felt that same strange echo inside him. She dropped his hand like it had shocked her and ran away so fast Adam thought he may have missed it if he blinked. Sighing to himself, he jogged home. It wasn't until his mother was telling him off for being out without a jacket that he realised - Ingrid still had it. "Mum, I gave the jacket to a girl in the park, she looked cold and I knew her from school." She didn't seem inclined to believe him, but Adam headed upstairs to his room anyway, stripping out of his clothes and stretching out naked on his bed.
Ingrid Count had touched his hand tonight, and that was all the fuel he needed as he wrapped that same hand around himself, Memories of her full lips, silvery eyes and pale, smooth skin filled his mind and pushed him to stroke faster. It was all over too fast but still left him shaking, wiping his hand on an old tshirt and pulling on pyjama bottoms in case George had to wake him up for school again. He couldn't shake the feeling something was very wrong with Ingrid when he saw her tonight, and he wondered how he'd get his jacket back - it was his favourite. Falling asleep haunted by her perfect face again, Adam tried to forget the bad feeling.
It was another week before he went out walking again, his mothers way of punishing him for not going out in a jacket before. This time he'd worn two, just in case. Resuming his interrupted walk through the parks from before, he saw another flash of pale skin. Surely not two late night walks in a row? Squinting against the dim lights, it was indeed Ingrid Count. Adam wasn't sure he could approach her without her running off, but he did need to ask about his jacket. She pointedly looked away when he sat down next to her on the swings again, so he was surprised that she initiated conversation. "Do you often hang around childrens parks at night to look for girls you hardly know?" Adam chuckled, he supposed it would seem odd to some. "I like night time walks, it's one of the reasons me and my mother and sister moved, to have more countryside to explore. Night makes me feel peaceful." "No father?" Adam shook his head. "I never knew my father, it's mostly just been me and mum and George... ina." Ingrid seemed to think about that for a moment before deciding to answer. "There's mostly just me and Dad, I know my mother but she left him for another man and only comes by when she wants something."
"What about Will?" Adam knew it was the wrong thing to say the second it left his mouth, Ingrid's face literally dropping with pure grief in seconds. "Will... Will's dead." And with that she was gone again. And he still hadn't asked for his jacket back. His mother had refused to let him out again the next two nights, claiming he needed to study for a math test. Confident he passed the test with flying colours, he'd begged to be allowed out that night, but Ingrid wasn't there. Nor was she there the next night. Adam left it another few nights, hoping that she simply turned up there once a week. He sat in the park for two hours, and walked funny going home as he'd been stationary on a fairly uncomfortable seat for most of that time. Trudging home sadly, Adam went to let himself into the house and head up to bed.
A hand pinned him to the wall by the door, another pressed over his mouth to stop him speaking and/or screaming. Blinking tears of shock from his eyes, Adam realised it was Ingrid pinning him to the wall. Which was not a situation he should prolong, given how his body was reacting. "Aren't you going to invite a girl in?" Her hand slipped from his mouth as soon as she realised he recognised her. "Ingrid, please come in?" She'd stepped back from him then and he almost whined as she moved away. "Go up to your room and open the window." Adam hastened to comply, almost forgetting to be quiet as he dashed to his bedroom and threw open the window. Unsure how she managed it, Ingrid Count definitely climbed in through his window. Locking his door (the conversation he'd had to have with his mother about George catching him doing 'teenage boy' things would haunt him forever) Adam turned around, pinching his forearm hard in case he was actually dreaming and Ingrid Count wasn't sat on his bed. Nope, that hurt, not dreaming. Ingrid Count is in his room. On his bed.
Unsure of the etiquette for girls you hardly know but dream about almost nightly, Adam sat at his desk and waited for Ingrid to explain why she felt the need to manhandle him then climb through his window. Instead she seemed to be studying him, eyes sweeping around his room covered in posters of rock bands and vampire movies. He felt his cheeks burn as she smirked. "What is it about you Adam Giles?" Having no idea what she was referring to, Adam shrugged. Ingrid stripped off her heavy... cloak? and Adam was almost excited, but then realised she had many more layers of fabric beneath it. One of which was his jacket. She pulled that off too, tossing it at him and he utterly failed at not inhaling her scent on the fabric. Lucky placement really, the bundle of fabric hiding his reaction to her. The hiding aspect was forgotten when she beckoned him closer, and he stood up and moved to sit next to her on the bed with very little conscious thought.
Adam thought he might stop breathing with anticipation as she moved closer, but she was looking at his face, not his eyes. He was almost certain she sniffed his neck, but then she was leaning back, silvery blue eyes meeting his again. There it was again, that pulse inside him. This time, he knew she felt it. Or at least, he assumed that was what she felt when she climbed in his lap and kissed him. Fighting not to fall off his bed in shock, Adam hoped he wasn't making an utter fool of himself and kissed her back. His hips shifted of their own accord when she moaned into his mouth, but the movement beneath her seemed to remind her where she was and she pulled off him. He made no attempts to stifle the whine of loss as she jumped out of his lap, grabbing her cloak thing and literally leaping out of his window. If he didn't have a raging hard-on against his zipper and a tingle in his mouth from her lips, Adam would have thought that was all a very pleasant dream. He didn't even need to imagine things this time, knowing exactly how she felt against him and the feral way she kissed. The moan she'd released into his mouth brought him over the edge and he trembled with the pleasurable memory. Swiping at his tingling lips, Adam was surprised to find spots of blood - he hadn't noticed she'd bitten at his lips. Crawling into pyjamas and bed, Adam fell asleep feeling surprisingly content.
The next morning his still-sore lip had looked swollen in the mirror, and he'd had to lie to his mother and say he bumped into the doorframe while half asleep. As he pulled on his returned favourite jacket, he realised that while he would love to carry Ingrid's scent everywhere with him, his mother would go mental if he smelled like girls perfume, as would the boys at school. Shrugging into a different jacket, he felt like he was walking on air all day. More than one teenaged boy commented that Adam must have "got some" last night based on his floating mood. His school day passed in a daze, rugby practice a blur, and his mother asked if he was off out again tonight - it was a weekend so his "curfew" was later. She seemed very surprised when he shook his head, claiming a headache and saying he was off to lie down. She called up offering him dinner but he declined, thankful for his stash of chocolate and fizzy drinks. If he didn't play rugby, Adam would be extraordinarily unfit and probably overweight. As night began to fall, Adam changed into clean clothes, brushed his teeth, locked his door and opened his window. Attempting to look uninterested, he picked up his latest secret-vampire-obsession book and began reading.
He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded from his window, actually invested in the book by now. "You don't really read that rubbish do you?" He squeaked in surprise, shoving the book under his pillow guiltily. "Nobody but my mum and sister know I'm into this stuff... and now you I suppose." Ingrid was climbing through his window again, and Adam wanted to ask if she moonlighted as a burglar, seeing as how she barely made a sound invading his house. Those kind of questions could wait, given how he really hoped she would kiss him again. When she didn't immediately leap upon him, Adam settled back down against the corner wall of his bed and waited for her to say why she was here tonight. Ingrid was not forthcoming and Adam started to grow frustrated with the way she looked at him but never met his eyes, he felt like he was being ignored up close. "You gave me my jacket back, kissed me and almost flew out of my window last night, what is it tonight? Girly sleepover? Attempted murder? An actual burglary?" Ingrid just continued to look at him for a moment longer.
"I'm trying to understand why I can't stay away from you." Ok, he wasn't expecting that. "I never said you had to, but you always run away." She'd edged closer now, sitting at the opposite end of his bed and he took the moment to appreciate her eyes, her cheekbones, her lips, cast in the low light of his reading lamp. "What are you staring at?" Adam replied simply "You." He thought for a moment, a flicker of bashfulness slid over her face but then it was gone, her trademark smirk back in place. She still refused to meet his eyes, and Adam wondered if was worth risking her leaving again to reach over and turn her eyes to his. Deciding it wasn't, he waited some more. "Have you worked it out yet then?" She looked at him in confusion. "Why you can't stay away from me? I mean, I'm pretty irresistable, just ask all of the girls I've never dated." She'd laughed at that then, and Adam was certain he'd never have another favourite sound as long as he lived.
"Not yet, but I will." And with that, she'd climbed in his lap like she had every right to be there (she did but he wasn't about to admit that) and kissed him again, nipping at his still sore lip and dominating him with her tongue. He knew she could feel him hard against her but he wasn't some kind of animal desperate to have her, if this was all she did to him as long as he lived, he'd die a happy man. All too soon, she seemed to have satisfied her personal quota of touching him and without so much as a goodbye she was leaving through the window again. Adam rolled onto his front, sighing as he lay ontop of his erection and trying to ignore it in favour of trying to understand what just happened.
This went on for months, Ingrid sometimes turning up three nights in a row, other times she would disappear for a week with no rhyme or reason. Some nights, they'd talk openly but about limited subjects. Ingrid refused to talk about Will, for example, and Adam refused to talk about his anger management therapy. Lately he'd been finding himself short tempered at everything, he'd raged at George for spilling milk on his rugby uniform when normally, he'd have laughed it off and pretended to thank her for giving him a way out of getting beaten up that day. His teachers were concerned, his mother was concerned and even Adam was concerned. It was chalked up to usual puberty stuff and Adam had happily agreed to the sessions, not liking this angry side of him. But he didn't want Ingrid thinking him as some stroppy, out of control child so that was off limits too. They still talked, Ingrid saying she only saw him at night because she had to sneak out and her father worked nights, Adam saying he worried nobody would accept him if they knew what he was really like.
Some nights when she visited, she'd all but pin him to his bed and kiss the life out of him. Last night, she'd actually pinned him down and bit his neck, teeth worrying at bruising on his neck until he -embrassingly- came in his pants at the pleasant torture. He'd had to hastily wrap a scarf around his neck to avoid the notice of his mother, claiming he'd fell asleep with his window open (true) and the draft had given him a stiff neck. He'd spent almost the entire weekend hiding in his room, Ingrid returning the next night and offering to do both sides of his neck. Still mortified at his loss of control, Adam had declined. He had asked if they were considered a couple now, or if he was just a way she passed the evenings. Ingrid hadn't answered, but a few nights later, after he'd fallen asleep giving up on her visit that night, Adam had woken up to a small post it note saying "for my idiot boyfriend" on a book called "Dating for Dummies" resting on his chest. That had gone in his drawer with his vampire books, and he looked at it with a warm glow in his chest every night.
Things could only go well for so long though. Adam had been wandering around the courtyard at lunchtime, his friends only his friends on the rugby pitch and the boy he'd sat with at lunch until recently, Jonno, had been sent away to a psychiatric treatment ward for saying he saw vampires everywhere. It wasn't announced or anything but everyone knew where he'd gone. Sometimes Robin Branagh would say hi to him on his way to football practice, but that was as close as Adam had to friends now. Minding his own business, a group of larger boys in the next year up had appeared out of nowhere. A couple of them had cigarettes in their hand, and Adam was already trying to back away to avoid the inevitable trouble when another came up behind him, effectively trapping him. "Well, well boys, looks like this one might be off to grass us up!" "What do we do with him?" "Guys look, he's got a hickey!" Adam clapped a hand to his neck, forgetting he needed to cover up the fading bruise Ingrid left him. These boys would never believe it was Ingrid Count turning up in his bedroom at night. "Why you hiding it Gills? No, Giles, right?" "Maybe it was another bloke who did it, he looks the type." "Is that why you miss vampire boy so much? Gay boy!" Their voices echoed around him, cigarette smoke burning his nose and meaty hands shoving him around. Adam had felt pure, hot anger burn through him and suddenly, the flowering bush near them had burst into flames. Using the distraction, Adam launched himself at the 'ring leader' of the group, punching and kicking as best he remembered from school karate. For one bizarre, exhilarating, terrifying moment, Adam had the strangest urge to bite him.
Mastering his anger for a brief moment, Adam grabbed hold of his bag and bolted away before they or any teachers could catch him. A fire engine turned up at the school, Adam could hear the sirens while he was in the bathroom trying to smooth his hair and clothes down. Looking in the mirror, he was checking how his neck was healing and then he could have sworn his reflection moved, and not the way he had. Shaking his head, he must be coming down with something. Adam went to the nurses office, a phone call home leading to his mother coming to pick him up. One look at his pale, drawn face and dark circles beneath his eyes (from many late nights waiting for Ingrid) and she was ushering him up to bed, following him up soon after with a tray of tea and chicken soup. Luckily his mother had been too distracted to notice his purpled neck, and Adam was careful to face that side of his neck away from her. It was only a month til he turned sixteen, but as she said, he would always be her baby boy. Downing the soup and tea and feeling a lot more himself, Adam settled down for a nap in the hopes he'd be more alert if and when Ingrid turned up that night.
When he woke up, he could feel her eyes watching him without even looking. "Did you know you talk in your sleep Adam?" Adam bolted up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and sipping at his emergency cola bottle. Given that he woke up with a semi, Adam was very concerned at what he may have been saying. "No, what did I say?" "Mostly just my name, but then I am your dream come true so it's not surprising." He felt more awake within a few minutes, and Ingrid seemed intent on driving him wild tonight. She stripped his sleep tshirt off him with little negotiation, smoothing cool hands down his chest and stomach and making appreciative noises at his rugby-toned muscles. Before she could get further than his navel, her hands were moving back up, her long painted nails teasing down his sides til he shivered. Adam was almost certain he was going to embarass himself again as she leaned in to whisper hotly in his ear. "I think tonight, I'll let you touch me for once." A pathetic whimper escaped his mouth as her hand guided his, a perverse sort of pleasure snaking through him as she essentially shoved his hand down her knickers and he found hot, wet skin. Trying to remember how other boys had said to do it when they talked filth in locker rooms, Adam slid his fingers around, watching her face for cues. Her eyes were closed, but he found he liked the way her mouth fell open each time he rubbed over a particular spot and made sure to keep it up. Hoping he wasn't crossing a line, he let his fingers slide lower, stimulating the previous pleasure spot with the palm of his hand and slipping his fingers inside her.
Sudden understanding of why she'd taken off his shirt hit him as she bit down on his shoulder, muffling the sounds of pleasure she intoned against his skin. Figuring she'd stop him when she was ready, he moved his hand back and forth, letting his fingers slide in and out of her slick hole and rubbing over the spot that made her gasp in pleasure. Her hands gripped at his sides a little harder, her moans reaching a slightly higher pitch. The next time his fingers brushed over her sweet spot and back inside her, Ingrid practically screamed against him and the wet tunnel around his fingers fluttered, clenching and loosening rhythmically as Ingrid shook in his arms. The bite on his shoulder suddenly seemed to light up as she bit harder, and Adam found himself mortifyingly filling his underwear again at the feeling and sound of her climaxing because of him, and the pleasure-pain of the bite. As Ingrid calmed down and let go of his shoulder, Adam thought the mark on his shoulder looked... strange. Shaking his head, probably wishful thinking, imagining Ingrid as a vampire just because he liked them. He felt her kiss at the bite on his shoulder, and when he turned to look, he was certain there was never any strangeness about it, other than Ingrid Count having what sounded like a pretty good orgasm. In his bed. Because of him. At odds with the tender gesture she'd made to his shoulder, she was soon back out of his window, leaving Adam to peel himself out of sticky clothes again.
She returned a few times over the last few weeks, looking up in surprise as they sat in companiable silence when Adam mentioned it was his birthday soon. "I'll be sure to bring you a... present." They hadn't progressed past the previous month, Ingrid either torturing him to orgasm by biting down on him in various places (he couldn't take his shirt off anywhere now, his entire torso littered with bruises in various stages of healing) and rubbing against him just so, or shoving his hand against her and letting him bring her off. Adam sincerely hoped that look on her face meant things might change that night. Just in case, he'd managed to swipe condoms from the nurses office. Better safe than sorry, and definitely better safe than the pharmacy lady telling his mother he'd bought them.
As the sun slowly sank down on the day before his birthday, Adam cursed his summer birth time. Ingrid never turned up before it was dark, and in summer, it took longer to become dark. Staring at his window, he'd showered, shaved his face, spent more time styling his hair (and ignoring the flickering twitches of his reflection - he'd get his eyes checked after his birthday) and chosen his best black t-shirt and jeans. He'd even put on new underwear, just in case. Around 9pm, darkness finally began to fall and Adam relaxed against his pillows, confident Ingrid would show up to make his birthday special. It was another hour before the sky was truly blackened and Ingrid was climbing through his window. Adam thought it was amazing nobody had noticed her frequent entries and reported a burglary, but wasn't complaining as he took in her outfit. Sleeveless vest top and short skirt, milky white legs revealed. He was pretty sure he was drooling. "So, birthday boy, what's say we celebrate with a bang?" Subtle as a brick, rare for Ingrid. Adam hoped that meant she wanted this anywhere near as much as he did right now.
Adam was very glad he'd taken the time to "clean the pipes" the last couple of days, not wanting to go off early or in his pants again, as the way Ingrid moved towards him, graceful and elegant and pure sex appeal, he worried he might have already blown his load at the way she looked. They hadn't explicitly discussed it, but he knew she knew it was his first time. He wasn't expecting flowers and romance and 'special' from Ingrid, but he'd take what he could get when she started kissing him, nipping at his neck, jawline and lips until he was panting beneath her. Moving back to let him wriggle out of his t-shirt, she moved lower, properly biting into his skin here where she could bruise him with impunity. Usually docile and following her lead, Adam wanted more tonight. He tugged at her hand until she looked up, their eyes connecting and that feeling spreading between them. She crawled up his body then, a powerful kiss shared before he was tentatively reaching for the hem of her vest. She stretched upright, flashing him a seductive smile that could floor a grown man before slowly, painstakingly slowly, lifting the fabric away. Adam had to bite on his hand not to moan aloud at the sight of her flawless pale skin being revealed to him.
Evidently not done torturing him, Ingrid reached behind herself, presumably to unhook her bra before letting it fall away from her. Adam was now aroused beyond anything he'd ever felt before, her breasts so close to his face and outshining every one of his dirty dreams about this day. "You're beautiful. You're perfect." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she seemed to appreciate it, leaning back down so those glorious globes were in reach and he took advantage. Cupping, stroking, tweaking and rubbing at her breasts all over, taking note of which spots got the best reaction as she bit at his neck again. Knowing he'd be bruised all over tomorrow and not caring one iota, Adam bent his head and mouthed over her creamy shoulders, licking a stripe over her collarbone and up her neck and moaning at the taste of her skin.
Her hands grappled with his jeans, and he let his own glide under her skirt and squeeze at the pert ass he'd dreamed of touching for the last year. His zipper finally came loose, his cock springing up at her like a flagpole and she smirked at him. Regrettably, she had to get off him to let him kick his jeans and underwear free, but that was soon made up for by her dropping her skirt, standing before him in nothing but a tight pair of lacey briefs. "Is this what you want now birthday boy?" Adam nodded vigorously, he'd agree to pretty much anything to see her naked. Ingrid slid her hands under the waistband, and Adam was certain he was the only boy at their school other than Will Clarke to ever behold such an amazing sight as the last piece of fabric dropped. Adam actually had to grasp at his erection, pinching the base until the urgency of his impending orgasm faded. Ingrid moved to straddle him again, and remembering the nurse visit, Adam reached under his pillow and held up a foil-wrapped packet to her. She nodded at him and he rolled it on, very glad he practiced it yesterday so he wouldn't mess it up.
Ingrid's hand wrapped around his sheathed cock, and even through the latex Adam was certain he would die of pleasure as she pressed him against her entrace. The heat he felt was mindblowing, the wet slide of skin as he inched inside her probably the most intense thing he'd ever experience in his life. As she came flush with his hips, fully seated on his cock, Adam rolled her over, wanting to see her beneath him as they moved together. Her eyes blazed with the challenge, but when he made his first shaky, experimental thrust Ingrid's hips rose to meet him. He found his body had an instinct for how to move, the forward and back motion of his hips easy enough and Ingrid moaned and gasped beneath him. Shifting his knees to a more comfortable position, the next thrust seemed to take her breath away, soundless words falling out of her mouth as he let himself speed up now he was certain he wouldn't come right away. Remembering the sensitive spots on her breasts, Adam manouvered his weight to one side, still sliding his hips into her and let the other trail over her chest. She bit down on his shoulder again, crying out in pleasure as he rubbed at her nipple and pushing her hips against him harder. Feeling the tingle in his balls building, Adam knew it wouldn't be long. Looking at his watch, he realised it was now a quarter to midnight. Stroking his hands on every bit of skin he could find, Ingrid writhed beneath him and clamped down around his cock. Adam had to actually bite down on her to stop himself crying out and waking his family, the sensation of coming inside her intense even with the condom.
As soon as he felt steady enough, body still shaky, Adam rolled off of her, pulling the used condom off and wrapping it in a piece of tissue to hide at the bottom of his little paper bin until he could get rid of it. "Best birthday present EVER, thank you Ingrid." "Don't expect such great gifts every year you little geek." Feeling buoyed by the knowledge he'd made her climax during his first time, he poked at her side. "This little geek made you scream though Ingrid." She smirked at him then, a hint of evil around the edges. "Keep up that attitude and I'll make you scream, and it won't be with pleasure Adam dear."
Adam was about to make up some kind of witty comeback, but as his watch beeped midnight and his sixteenth year on the earth began, a pain tore through his chest and he blacked out. When he came to, he felt very strange. Ingrid was leaning over him, wearing his jacket and a pair of his shorts. Looking down, she'd evidently put shorts on him too. "Adam, do you feel alright?" He shook his head, trying to discern what felt wrong. Remembering the pain in his chest, he pressed his hand there, then tried his neck and then his wrist. "Ingrid, how am I alive if I've got no pulse!?" Ingrid looked like she was about to answer but shook her head. "Do you trust me Adam?" That one was easy, he nodded. "I need you to hold on to me, hold on tight and we will go and see my father, he'll know what to do." Touching Ingrid rarely sounded like a bad idea, so Adam looped his arms around her neck and then suddenly they were disappearing, the world blurring past him so fast he thought he should feel nauseous. She set him on his feet outside the castle doors, he'd actually forgotten she lived here. He tried to follow but couldn't. "Adam, please come in." A moment of memory came back to him, Ingrid making him invite her in before she climbed through his window. Whatever had stopped him before was gone and he walked through the high doors.
A man was sat in a throne at the opposite end of a cavernous room. His hair was long, fine and black. His skin was paler than Ingrid's and his dark eyes flashed red every now and then. "Adam, this is my father. Count Dracula." Adam turned to Ingrid, expecting this to be some kind of joke. "Ingrid, why is there a breather in my castle, and what are you both wearing?" "That's just it dad, he's not a breather. He turned sixteen at midnight and I'm pretty sure he just... transformed." They were talking about him like he wasn't in the room and that annoyed Adam, on top of everything else and he growled. What surprised him wasn't their shocked faces, but the crack of lightning that flashed outside as he did it. "Count Dracula" or whoever he was, came very very close to Adam's face. Vague memories of Ingrid doing this before they'd become... closer had Adam feeling very unnerved. He didn't like this man like he did Ingrid. Something seemed to click for the man, and he moved back. Adam sighed with relief, the feeling strange in his now dormant lungs.
"Adam, what's your surname?" "Giles sir." The mans eyes widened, just a little. "Is your mother named Sally Giles?" A sinking feeling in his stomach made Adam wonder where this was going, but he nodded. "Adam, were you concieved approximately 16 years and 9 months ago at Whitby Goth Festival?" Adam shared a horrified look with Ingrid, both certain where this was about to end up. He nodded again. "Adam, I believe I am your father."
This ended up wayyyyyy longer than I intended it to be, if you make it all the way to the end then bat biscuits and vintage blood for you! Or pizza, if that's your thing.