This is a fantasy I had while daydreaming on my couch and listening to An Evening With Diablo by Chevelle. I own nothing: not Chevelle's music or any part of Hellsing, although Alucard would be nice.
Integral's point of view and maybe a little OOC, but let me know what you think. This is set sometime when Integral is at least 18 years old.
I was lounging on the love-seat when he walked in the room from the hallway on my left. He stopped when he saw me across the room; a small sly smirk formed on his face. I returned his smirk with a small smirk almost as predatory as his, but not quite as insane as his. Although no one was as insane as him. Slowly he took a step toward me, then another when I did not move. The look in his eyes as he got closer made me feel...something flutter or ache in the pit of my stomach. Strange thing was I didn't mind. When he was right in front of me, he dropped to his knees. He was still taller than me since I was laying my head against the armrest. All of a sudden his left hand grabbed my ankles and used them as leverage to swing my legs off the couch, leaving my legs to straddle his lower abdomen below his ribcage. When he did this my upper body came up too and now I was looking down at him, but when I saw his face my anger faded. I smiled softly but my eyes held a more mischievous look. His smirking became more playful, eyes darkening from bright blood red to burgundy. His hand came up to my face to cup my chin. I lifted my hand to his face but kept going to get my fingers tangled in his ebony hair.
No words had been spoken yet; none were needed. He started to agonizingly slowly inch his face closer to mine, when I got impatient and crashed my lips to his. The kiss was strong, fiery,passionate, but not rushed. I had denied myself his touch since the day I realized I was falling for, had fallen for the No Life King, knowing my ancestor's would have been disgusted. I would have shamed my family's name and honor, if they were still alive.
My legs wrapped tighter around his sides when his tongue started its exploration of my mouth. I returned the favor but flinched when my tongue found the sharp points of his fangs. I flinched again in surprise but also pleasure when he started to suck on my tongue until the tiny pricks produced no more crimson Ecstasy. We broke the kiss allowing me enough time to catch my breath, until his hands were playing in my hair, massaging my scalp, knowing from my thoughts that I loved it when he did that. Probably hoping for something in return, knowing him. My hands, now resting on his shoulders, started to mimic his action in my hair in his hair. He caught my eyes gave his classic Cheshire smirk, but without the mocking tone. He applied more pressure into my hair to bring my head forward and lightly brushed his lips with mine. I took the initiative and deepened the kiss, my hands, in his hair, locking his lips to mine and his doing the same.
I felt the pressure of his hands disappear and feel his hands 'phantom' their way down the outline of my body until he reached my hips, hesitating, holding my hips, unsure if i would allow him to go farther. I opened my eyes and looked into his from barely an inch away, giving him a silent warning. He squeezed my hips once, fingers kneading flesh, then slid his hands down to rest on the couch next to my thighs.
My hands were still 'working' in his hair, at one point eliciting a moaned purr from him, which I felt more than heard in my mouth and hands. this excited me to no end that my hands and my first kiss could cause him such pleasure. We both unconsciously decided to deepen the kiss.
I felt his hands slide down the couch towards him and my knees. When he reached my knees he grabbed them and slid me a little bit closer to him, which was a little bit closer to the edge of the couch, I noticed. Sly Devil. He got brave and let his hands start roaming their way up my legs, lightly scratching his nails into the starched material of my pants-suit. This time I was the one who moaned in pleasure. His hands inched higher. I gasped quietly, breaking the kiss briefly to warn him that 'if he wanted to keep those hands he would go no further' with my eyes. He gave the barest nod of understanding, kissing me again, not too needy, but none too slow. His hands did go higher, but instead rested just above my hips, his thumb nail raking softly against my lower ribs. I moaned again, causing him to laugh lightly into my mouth. My eyes hardened with mock anger and real embarrassment. I felt suddenly awkward that his hands had moved so much and mine were still locked in his ebony spikes. I decided to be brave now and brushed my hands down his face, neck, shoulders to rest by the collar of his button-up shirt nearly identical to mine: white and simple. I let my curiosity get the better of me and undid the first few buttons of his shirt and let my hands roam his chiseled alabaster chest, cold as marble. As I did that his hands found the top of my suit pants, where my shirt was tucked in, and slowly pulled it out, waiting for my approval or otherwise.
When I did nothing but continue to kiss his absolutely perfect lips and caress his gorgeous and flawlessly toned body, except for one scar atop where his heart would be, he rested his hands under my shirt just above my hips as before. I started to shake in anticipation until his fingers passed my comfort zone, which was just below my chest. I broke the kiss, leaned back enough to look him in the eyes. They held no mocking smirk in them, just the unspoken question.
"No...not...yet" I whispered breathlessly.
"Whenever you are ready, my mast-" He said softly, lovingly, before I cut him off.
"I didn't say stop kissing me"
The predatory gleam returned. We both grinned. I hope Walter doesn't find out...yet
Yah! it's finally done. tell me what you think. please don't steal. i respect you, you respect me. simple rule to follow.
SouthPaw
