A short and unintentionally sexually-charged moment between Hellsing's Angel of Death and pet vampire.
You would never hear it from Walter, but Sir Arthur Hellsing, though a proud, honorable man worthy of his knighthood, was not without his flaws. The most notable of which was that the man was about as dirty as they come- in nearly every respect imaginable.
Cleaning the man's office, for example, as Walter found himself doing today with already two and half garbage bags full, could potentially be as dangerous as disposing of nuclear waste. On his hands and knees, the young bulter's nose scrunched in distaste as he reached under the hard-to-reach places beneath his employer's desk and pulled out an impressive array of used cigars, corks from liqueur bottles and- Dear Sweet Jesus Christ- was that what he thought it was?
He fell back in abject disgust when upon closer inspection the elastic, somewhat crusty, piece of rubbery yuck turned out to be a used condom. He thanked his lucky stars he chose that day to wear rubber gloves, otherwise there was no telling what sort of diseases he might've contracted.
It was days like this that Walter missed the war. Two years had passed since there were any Nazi freaks for him to decapitate and in that time he had been employed by Arthur as a custodian; a young man must carry his own weight, after all. And while that was all well and good, he was a killer for Godssake! A soldier! He was meant to be on the battlefield slicing through enemy forces by the hundreds, not cleaning up after his employer's filthy perverted escapades. But until his services as the Angel in Death were needed again, he would just have to grin and bear it.
He went back in, careful to use a broom this time, and swept out something that piqued his interest. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he rolled the thing up and unassumingly tucked it inside his vest. He returned to his duties, spirits somewhat lifted, now that he had something to look forward to.
Walter closed himself in his room after the day's chores were complete. Loosening his tie, he unbuttoned his vest and withdrew the thing that had so caught his attention. He plopped down onto his mattress and began flipping through the pages with an almost reverent hand. There was a tiny part of him that twinged with guilt and a vague disgust with himself that he sometimes secretly dabbled in Arthur's forgotten porn, but it was overshadowed by his fascination and curious arousal.
In Walter's young life he did not have the pleasure of knowing very many women. There had been his mother- who was all but a dim, painful memory to him now. A few plain, homely women from child services, but they didn't leave any sort of lasting impression except for maybe a bad taste in his mouth. That was about it. And a sixteen year-old boy had needs, damnit!
"My, my," a soft, girlish voice crooned close to his ear. Walter jumped in alarm, whipping his head around to glare daggers at the feminine form of Alucard who dangled upside down mere inches behind him. Long black locks brushed the surface of his mattress from her inverted position, a vexing smirk plastered to her lips. "Feeling naughty are we, Angel?"
A nonplussed Walter flushed crimson and he shamefully closed the incriminating magazine and pushed it away. Make that one more for the list of girls he knew, but Walter doubted she even counted. After all, she wasn't even a real girl. "What are you doing here, Alucard?" he demanded.
"Don't be so snippy," she chided, using her levitation to turn herself right side up and glided gracefully to sit cross-legged in front of him. "Do I need a reason to check in on my favorite little killer?"
"Sort of, since you don't seem to make a habit of it," Despite his irritation, he was genuinely surprised to see her. Since the war ended, the vampire had kept mostly to herself and Walter had hardly caught sight of her the last two years.
She grinned coyly. "Aw, did you miss me, Walter? I'm touched."
The young butler scoffed, "Hardly. You just caught me off guard is all."
"Clearly," she intoned with a wicked humor, motioning to the discarded magazine. "You should really put a sock on your door, or something."
His cheeks colored even deeper, venturing into beetroot territory, "Loads of good that'd do me, seeing as you didn't use the door, now did you?"
"Ah, touche," She placed a slender finger on his reddened cheek. "Keep that up, Angel, and you'll spike a fever."
"Bugger off," he swatted her hand away- or rather, she allowed her hand to be swatted. Peels of giggles filled the room.
"I forgot how much I liked you, Walter. So quick to temper! I really shouldn't have stayed away for so long and leave you in this mansion all alone without any one your own age to play with," she drew closer to him until her face was inches from his own. Walter refused to show fear.
"You're not my age," he protested.
"I look it."
"Doesn't count."
"I suppose you're right, but then again you don't exactly have the luxury to be picky, " she continued her advances and Walter didn't realize he'd been backing away until his back made contact with the wall. "Don't worry. I won't tell Arthur you've been swiping from his collection."
"It's not like I make a habit of it," he defended, sweating a little under the collar.
"Tell that to the "secret stash" under your bed," she countered knowingly with a devilish smirk. She pressed her forehead against his and he gasped feeling her icy breath close to his mouth.
"Maybe I would stop stealing from Arthur if I got the real thing," he whispered, mouth suddenly dry.
She threw her head back and laughed at the unexpected insinuation. "Oh, but you are a bold one!" And her hysterical laughter continued, bruising Walter's ego slightly. Finally she calmed herself down, though amusement shone bright in her eyes. "Perhaps someday, when you are not such a petulant child."
"I'm not a child," even as the words left his mouth, Walter regretted them. Could he sound any more pathetic?
"Indeed," she didn't miss his embarrassing slip up. "Grow up a little bit and then we'll talk, okay? Until then, keep dreaming, my little Angel of Death,"she placed a feathery kiss on his cheek before floating back up into the ceiling, leaving Walter even more flustered than before. He glared at the offending magazine responsible for this, doubting very much it could help him at all now.
I hate to leave Walter all hot n' bothered like that, but getting physical with Alucard might be biting off more than he can chew. ;) Leave me some nice, delicious word nibblets to snack on in the reviews. Hell, they don't even have to be delicious. Or nice. I'm not picky~