A/N: So, this is my first fic for the Young Dracula fandom. I really hope you'll review and tell me what you think, whether it seems inconsistent. It's just a one-shot this time. Maybe I'll do others, not sure for now.

Warning: Yes this is a Vlad/Robin slash. Don't like, don't read. It's not just smut though, I've tried to make sure there's real story in there as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula or any of the characters therein, though I should. I'd treat them well. :P

Fresh Perspectives

Vlad felt surreal; all the world about him felt as though it was painted with different colours, cast beneath the light of a different sun, and it wasn't even day time.

Far off in the distance his ears picked out the distant tolling of bells, ringing out their voices to proclaim the midnight hour. They wouldn't ring again till morning, lest they disturb the locals while they slept, but it was enough to ground Vlad back into reality. An odd thought to have when he was in fact levitating at the time of thinking it.

He wasn't just levitating anywhere though; he was of course outside Robin Branagh's bedroom window. The Count had banished his friend from the castle for the ceremony with the Mirror, insisting that his 'precious', 'perfect' Vlad must have a 'perfectly vampiric' transition into his full powers. Vlad had thought it was a stupid idea, and Ingrid had supported him, if only because she wanted to watch on evilly when Robin became his first emerging victim. The Count had silenced her though, as he had a tendency to do, insisting that her opinions, however entertaining, were irrelevant.

And so Vlad had entered the chamber of the Blood Mirror, alone, with only his evil family gathered outside the door. Somehow, it had only steeled his resolve. He hadn't even had a chance to say a proper goodbye to Robin after all, so he had resolved to himself that it wouldn't be necessary.

He had fought with his reflection for far longer than Boris had. Vlad had marched in at seven, as if he were bracing himself for his own funeral. When he'd emerged it was to the half-eleven chime of the dining hall's grandfather clock.

It had felt even longer.

Eventually though, he had won, in a sense. He realised, you see, that one never really 'wins' against their reflection. One simply learns to see from another perspective.

He had beaten it down in so many areas, sometimes holding fast with outright stubbornness and other times, settling for compromises. There was one area though where he had been all but defenceless. His reflection sinister as it was, knew it could be victorious there, perhaps even without a fight. Cunningly it had squirrelled away its reserves of strength, anything it could spare from the rest of the fight, to strike at the last, in a place where Vlad didn't know it could go.

For Vlad had but one area where he and his reflection desired the same thing: In the area of desire.

He desired to be able to stand up confidently, and to be able to honestly claim, by force or by virtue, that which he believed was, or should be, his. The only thing that held him back was fear, a fear almost, but not quite, erased by the growing frustration and desire for that one wish; to own what should be his.

He had squashed the voice that told him to ignore how others would feel, despite its haunting whispers in his sleep. He had denied to himself aloud that he would ever, ever risk it all. He would be conservative, and hold onto what he had instead of gambling it all, for he did not believe in taking it even if the bet was lost.

But he desired to take it, so, so badly.

The reflection knew it, and it waited until he was exhausted to push its point, first with violence, and then with quiet words of persuasion, and then finally with discussion, a way to end the fight that had them both exhausted within his mind.

And he had submitted…

/**~~**\

Robin tossed and turned, he'd been in bed for twenty minutes but somehow, he wasn't in the least tired. All the events of the past day flew through his head in succession, over and over and over again as he scrutinised them, wondering if he could have done something differently, wondering if he should have said something, if he could have said something, if he'd have cared of the consequence…

For what was now quite literally years, if only a little over two, he had known that which meant the most to him. He'd denied it at first, railed against it even and eventually suffered in silence as each and every day passed by, the anxious fear gripping his gut with its cold steel claws. It had taken a long time for him to admit it to himself, and even longer to perfect the act that killed him slowly on the inside, but kept the sun shining in the day time.

He had thought he'd say something today; it was possibly his last chance after all. Somehow though, nothing had gone to plan, the perfect moment had never arrived, and all of a sudden he was at home alone, acting like everything was normal, even when it wasn't, couldn't be, and never would be again.

He knew what he wanted, but he didn't think he'd get it now…

Finally he gave up, pushing his covers back he staggered out of bed and gripped the pole which he used to hang from with both hands. With a heavy sigh he let his legs give way and just hung, something to keep his twitching hands occupied as his brain kept spinning. He would have climbed right up and hung upside down but he didn't think he had the energy after so many hours of worrying. Surely Vlad would have come straight to see him? Boris hadn't taken this long, and sure Vlad was stronger, but four and a half hours? Boris had been out in less than half an hour.

All these thoughts and more buzzed around his head as he pushed his weight around in a pendulum motion with his feet, eventually coming to a stop, still supported by his grip on the bar but now with some of the weight off his arms as he leant right forward, his legs straightening behind him to try and stretch out the frustration.

Finally he stood up, walking to the window. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he felt like some fresh air.

/**~~**\

Vlad pushed aside his hesitations in favour of moving, something different for the new him. Before he could have hovered in indecision all night, now he simply acted, despite the shiver of cold fear which still crept through him. He was in charge now, not the fear.

Stepping across the air, as if walking on the ground, he reached for the window latch, just as someone on the other side did too.

/**~~**\

Robin reached around, gripping the window latch and the curtain to haul them back simultaneously, letting out a strangled shout as he came face to face with his best friend. Vlad, for his part, also reacted with surprise, taking a half step backwards, despite still not being stood on anything that was actually solid. He was silent at least though, if you ignored the sharp hiss as he took in an entirely unnecessary breath.

For a moment both boys were stunned. Robin wanted to speak straight away but was held in check for an instance by Vlad's new look. He was still essentially the same, but he was nevertheless subtly different. It was something in the cast of his expression, the pallor of his skin, or the set of his jaw. It was hard to define but it held Robin just that fraction longer than the surprise held Vlad, and so it was Vlad who spoke first.

"Robin!"

He sounded the same, and more importantly he smiled the same. Ok the smile now had fangs, but it was still that same genuine smile of happiness, and that same clear voice, innocent of worldly cares upon seeing his best friend again.

In an instant all doubt was banished from Robin's mind. Maybe Vlad wasn't entirely the same, but the important bits hadn't changed and Robin felt like his chest might burst if the sudden feeling of elation grew any more, a wide grin breaking out on his face as he leaned half out the window, the excited cry of "Vlad!" escaping his own lips.

In an instant Vlad had stepped forward again, his arms snaking around Robin smoothly in a quick friendly hug.

"I knew you'd come and see me, I just knew it!"

Robin's breathless excited voice had the same feel it always had as Vlad moved to perch precariously on the window ledge.

"Robin, you're my best friend, not even Ingrid could have kept me away!" he grinned.

Robin stumbled back, clumsy with the excitement as he started talking again, "So you're all here, in one piece! I knew it, I could feel it, you'd have to be ok."

Turning around he sat back on his bed, fully expecting Vlad to have followed him right into the room. When he spotted him still perched on the windowsill he felt a sudden stab of horror, as if maybe, maybe he'd been wrong. Vlad on the other hand seemed to have this stupidly large grin on his face.

"Robin, aren't you forgetting something?"

Staring blankly it took him a long moment to realise before he burst out laughing, within seconds he was breathing heavily as he struggled to spit out an invitation and stop himself from falling off the bed at the same time. Vlad just shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he finally stepped gracefully through the window and into the room properly in one fluid motion, his cape trailing smoothly behind him.

"Who'd have thought, Robin; Vampire expert Extraordinaire, would forget something like inviting me in," he chuckled, shutting the window quietly behind him.

Robin coughed, attempting to regain his composure. Mercifully there wasn't anyone else in the house yet, the twins not having returned from their 'big night out', and Chloe and his parents being off on a trip to investigate a special school for gifted youngsters.

However, no sooner had he brought some poor semblance of calm to his face than Vlad's expression of barely suppressed mirth betrayed him, sending him off again as all the tension of the day worked its way out of his system. Vision blurred by half-lidded eyes or tears of laughter he didn't see, but felt it, when Vlad also collapsed onto the edge of the bed next to him, also laughing. It was amazing, he hadn't heard his friend laugh in that carefree way for so long, and that, more than anything, gradually reined in his hysteria as he finally relaxed.

As the last of the giggles gradually worked their way out and they both remembered how to breath, or not breath, again Robin realised dimly that he had thrown his arm around Vlad's shoulders for support at some point. He didn't care really at this point, no one could possibly think it was weird, but nevertheless his heart quickened as he basked in the easy happiness the position brought him, being half-pressed against his friend.

The moment was perfect.

/**~~**\

Vlad didn't realise Robin had his arm around him at all for a while. He'd thought he'd feel less once he was undead, instead he felt more, the feeling of relief and happiness almost overwhelming. His vampire senses; however, were not going to let him off being ignorant for long. When Robin's heart rate changed his attention was drawn to it, the feel of the blood pulsing through the veins of that arm wrapped around his neck, he could feel it, smell it even, but there was more than that. He realised, prompted by his instinct, that there could be only one reason. There wouldn't be a fight, he simply knew, it was always his, he'd only had to ask.

He sensed Robin glance at him, once, and then twice. Before he could do it a third time he snuck in, ghosting a chaste kiss to his friend's cheek before pulling back, smiling.

Despite the dimness he could see Robin's eyes widen as they turned to look at him again, "Vlad?"

He seemed not to be breathing at all. Correction; Vlad knew he wasn't breathing at all.

Vlad just leaned in again slightly, his voice whispering out almost breathlessly, "You always wanted this didn't you? I always did too, I just never believed it could happen."

He watched as Robin struggled to reply, his mouth too shocked to work properly. The hand not already draped around Vlad's shoulders answered for him though, sliding across to gently rest on his thigh, while his right moved to grip Vlad's shoulder more firmly. Vlad could feel the warmth soaking through the fabric of his clothing where the contact was, making him feel alive.

Leaning back in he slid the arm that was between them up to rest across Robin's upper back, gripping his shoulder, while his other hand slid smoothly up his thigh, barely creasing Robin's pyjama bottoms before sliding under his shirt to caress his side. At Robin's gasp upon meeting the cold flesh of his hand he leaned in, swallowing the gasp with a deep kiss, subconsciously knowing, and adjusting it to avoid fanging him in the face.

A second later though Robin is pulling away, standing up and drawing Vlad up with him by the hand, seemingly oblivious to the way that his black pyjama bottoms have slipped part way down over one hip. Once stood up though he realises what Robin intends, his friends deft fingers unhooking his cape before beginning to undo his waistcoat buttons, all while leaning in close and breathing warm air at Vlad's neck.

All he can do is moan quietly, burying his nose in the crook of Robin's neck and inhaling the sweet, glorious smell that was Robin as the slightly taller boy guides his arms and movements, stripping him down one item of clothing at a time.

"See Vlad," he whispers, "if we're going to do this now, we're going to do this properly."

With the smell and feel of Robin's blood coursing just millimetres in front of him, and the warmth of his friend's body and hands as they alternately pressed against him, or moved away to remove another layer of clothing, it was all he could do to moan in response as Robin took charge. All he did was nuzzle and kiss at his pale beauty's neck, resisting the urge to take him to the ground and bite into his tender flesh.

How he did it he wasn't sure, if it was anyone other than Robin he didn't think he'd have had the strength to resist that craving, but maybe because it was still under the skin, and he'd never tasted it before, helped in some way.

After a few more moments Robin finally focused sufficiently to remove the last item of clothing from his torso. With how the boy had been going at his neck he'd have had marks like beacons if he wasn't undead.

He pulled away enough, briefly pushing forwards as he grasped the edge of Robin's shirt now, gradually lifting it up as he kissed him again before pulling back and whipping it off over his head quickly. As he cast it aside Robin immediately flung his arms around Vlad's shoulders again, crashing their lips together in what was suddenly a more desperately passionate kiss, as they pressed against each other, and they could certainly feel each other's excitement through the thin layers of fabric left over their nether regions.

Finally, with a moan, Robin pulled away for air, Vlad immediately leaning back in to suck at his neck where a red mark was already raised livid from previous attentions. He could feel Robin's hands inching around and under the waistband of his trousers and he let him go at it, trailing kisses and now warm breaths up and down his dark-eyed beauty's neck, something that beauty was thoroughly enjoying if the moans were anything to go by.

At length he finally got them loosened, removing them fully when Vlad pulled back ever so briefly to toe off his shoes, and somehow his socks as well while he was at it. Vlad then found himself drawn back towards the bed by the hand, almost warm enough to pass for human after his extended contact. Robin's own pants finally slipped away as he climbed into bed, allowing them to become caught on the mattress and dragged off of him in the movement.

Vlad barely noticed though, climbing smoothly in behind his love as the covers were drawn over them and Robin set to him with renewed vigour.

Underneath the covers he could feel the warmth properly suffusing his body. It was intoxicating, especially here where the small of Robin was so pervasive that he literally felt he could drown in it. Slowly he felt Robin rub against him, one of Robin's hands appearing suddenly to card aggressively through his hair, the sensation causing him to arc upwards against the smooth flesh of the boy who had somehow ended up atop him. How had that happened? He wasn't really sure but he could barely coordinate thoughts into 'not biting' and 'wow'. Needless to say he didn't dwell on it.

Finally, after what seemed an eon of bliss and wonder he heard Robin whisper, "Vlad? Is it… ok?"

Opening his eyes he found himself gazing into the inky darkness of Robin's own eyes, so very, very close. His hands ran warm tracks down the sensitive skin of his pale friend's back, a whispered 'yes' barely escaping in a coherent thought as he stretched up that little bit, reengaging the kiss again.

And then he could feel Robin in a new way, his heat penetrating into the core of his being and making him moan in a way he had never realised he could, and he couldn't do it anymore; his desire for the tantalising being in front of him becoming too much to resist. As Robin broke the kiss to move back to sucking on Vlad's neck, he did the same, and this time his fangs grazed the skin, and raised welts. There, for the tiniest of instants, there existed the potential for him to stop, but Robin's moan of pleasure at the action drove all other thought from his mind. He could smell Robin's blood, feel his pulsing life with every fibre of his being.

He bit down.

In the case of a first bite, you would expect it to be messy, yet somehow it wasn't. He was so fully attached to Robin's neck in ecstasy, sucking so hard, there was no mess. Despite the waves of heat and amazement battering his body, some part of him couldn't bear to see a drop of Robin's blood be wasted, perhaps the first fully coherent thought he'd had since they'd started this.

And he couldn't stop.

He pulled closer, pressing tightly up against the body above him as they continued in their moaning dance of ecstasy. Robin, for his part hadn't opened his eyes since the bite, seemingly lost to the sensation, beyond all help now. His movements became faster, even as his muscles shook with more and more pronounced feeling. Vlad just kept on drinking, locked into the cycle of warmth, and blood, and the sweet sensation of his skin moving against Robin's.

Something had to break this cycle though. He knew it deep down, though he couldn't have strung that thought into a single sequence of words had he tried.

The breaking of this cycle came when Robin did. His entire body shuddered in the most delicious way, causing a hot point of pure warmth to manifest itself within Vlad somewhere low inside him.

The repeating cycle of ecstasy was broken with that single moment, causing Vlad to gasp in air he didn't even need as he felt a similar shudder pass through his own form. His moan became a shout, rising almost to the level of a scream before he collapsed back against the bed, the shuddering form of Robin collapsing on top of him a split second later.

Dimly he could feel a warm trickling sensation running across his chest and neck, and he could smell it still though he felt tired and sated in a way he could never before have imagined, and could certainly not put into words. Absently he shifted himself, turning his head into the crook of Robin's neck and licking at it delightedly, revelling anew in the glorious taste of it. It was several moments before he realised the trickling sensation had stopped.

His brain was foggy, and he was sure there was possibly some significance in that but he couldn't put his finger on it. Robin had stopped bleeding… what did that mean?

A sudden stab of clarity cut through the fog and he let out a strangled cry, rolling over so he was atop Robin, looking down in horror at the pale body of his dearest friend. He shook, suddenly fearful, almost blind and mad from shock at what he had done. How? How could he have done it?

A sob tore itself unexpectedly from his throat his head dropping, resting his forehead against the bare chest of his beloved. He almost screamed, all the years he had spent with Robin flashing before his eyes, as if it were his own life in the moment before death. The sudden emotional pain paralysed him, he didn't know what to do! He couldn't have done this! Surely he had to be dreaming!

Thudump…

The breath he didn't know he was breathing from habit caught in his throat.

Thudump…

It was quiet, faint, but he could hear it. Robin had a heartbeat, he was still alive!

The tears which had wet his face when he wasn't noticing suddenly began again with renewed vigour. Robin was alive!

But not for long... a part of him realised.

Beneath him his dark eyed beauty stirred, mumbling something so quietly that Vlad wouldn't have heard it if he were still mortal, "Don't cry Vlad, you taste nice…"

Hardly daring to breath, which he didn't do even then, he bent down, knowing, understanding what he had to do. With his head rest against the pillow beside Robin he could feel Robin turning ever so slightly, weakly, sucking at his neck. He was conscious, barely. Sliding one hand underneath Robin, supporting his head as tears still ran down his face he reached up with the other hand, pressing the sharp nail of his finger to his throat as he pulled back for a moment. Robin let out a tiny whimper, his expression becoming faintly pleading. Maybe he had known? He didn't wish this curse on anyone, least of all Robin. Oh but how many times had he begged for this? This gift he called it.

Still he hesitated… until Robin whimpered again. He could hear his heartbeat slowing further and he decided right then, come what may, he couldn't let Robin die, no matter what. Unlife wasn't worth living without him.

With a determined hiss he sliced through his own skin, leaning back down so that he was fully pressed against Robin again, holding him close like the lover he was as he sucked feebly at the blood pouring from the same spot that he kept compulsively kissing.

He was still crying, he could feel his own blood flow slowing as his body healed the wound. Beneath him he could hear the gurgle as Robin swallowed, over and over again. He could even feel his own blood as it worked its way into Robin's body, but would it work? Was it enough?

Below him he heard Robin's heart continue to slow and he wept, he wept for the uncertainty, and for his love.

Eventually it slowed further and further until it came to a shuddering halt, his friend's last breath leaving his body behind. All he could do was hold him close, pull the covers right up to cover them fully and pray, pray to the darkness that Robin would rise again…