This chapter is for someone (can't be bothered to go through the amazing 44 messages I have to find out who actually asked for this pairing)! And! I have to say I'm sorry… I enjoy vampires… there was no way I COULDN'T do this with these two! So yes no historic background just lovely, lovely vampire-ness, enjoy!
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.Romania.
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They're both members of the EU, that's all there is to it, that's all the reason he needs to visit, to sink his fangs deep in his pale neck, watch in fascination as the red, oh ever so red blood caresses his pale flesh. And then he'll lap it up, slowly, oh so slowly that his prey can't help but let his breath hitch- it's no fun if his prey doesn't enjoy every enticing moment.
England's the only one that willingly lets him do it, Norway would, but not without a glare or two- Hungary would if he was absolutely parched, but that was more to do with her hating him enough to not want him to find a willing blood bank- an actual friend. His blood bank comes in the form and shape of 'Dracula'.
"It's by my brother's writer," England had grunted, expiration seeming a few dawns away. "It's NOT my writer, so why are you here?"
"Because your brother isn't fond of vampires just like the rest of the world…" Romania's eyes glow crimson- England's emerald eyes meet his dead on.
"And that involves me, because…?" There's exhaustion coating his words, making him sound overly tired- Romania can't help but think it's in this tired state that he could easily coax the Great British Empire's mind into understanding, he could use the power bestowed upon him for being different to MAKE England think he wants something he might not- he saves it as a back-up plan for the back-up plan.
"Ireland says you don't mind vampires at all!" Romania smiles, making sure he shows his fangs- most Nations hide at the sight- get disturbed- want to kill him: England looks at him with complete and utter amusement.
"Your fangs are smaller than most," he laughs and Romania's eyes narrow- maybe the fear he struck in others was better than that.
"Not my fault," Romania smashes his hand harshly onto England's "throne"right beside his head… his neck, the chair almost breaks under his force, almost collapses to the floor- England just smiles at him. "I represent the people and not a majority of my people ARE Vampires…"
"True, but a majority of my people aren't wizards and I'm perfectly fine with magic," Romania grins at that-
"That's not what Norway says," he laughs. "Or a lot of Nations who have had the unfortunate pleasure of suffering your failed magic tricks."
England isn't smiling anymore- Romania is.
"Why does any of this involve me?" England growls- they've got in a full circle, but Romania doesn't mind they're back on track- he grins his most heart stealing smile.
"Because I need a willing victim," he smiles, England looks vaguely shocked, but it's somewhat hidden under a mask of disbelief. "And you can't say the idea hasn't fascinated you before."
He's chased out of England's house, but Romania's positive that England will cave and agree after all England's face flushed bright red at the mention of such fantasies, so it had to be true right? After all why would you allow your blood to rush through your body and cause that delicious flush if it wasn't? Blood doesn't lie.
England meets Romania on a chilling December evening later the next year- Romania never thought he'd be nearly as stubborn- and their game starts. It starts small, just taking blood- a bite, maybe two, until Romania decides to up the game, starts kissing the pulse before taking a bite; starts licking his mark clean when England's breathless and panting from the adrenaline from having his blood taken from him.
It's not much longer until the bite marks start drifting south- a collar bone, an elbow, an ankle, his hip, his thigh. He loves taking blood from his thighs, he comes to England when he least suspects it, drops down to his knees silently, slips England's trousers off, kisses his flesh looking for the perfect pulse- it's drumming insanely being so close to such intimate flesh and he bites- drinks- licks and leaves.
Their relationship had never meant to go past the friendly blood donor- vampire relationship, but they soon find their selves kissing- Romania had bit England's lip once, blood pouring into both of their mouths and he spent a few good minutes licking every precious drop away and enjoying the after taste coating England's moist cavern. It's not too much longer and that the more than normal amount of blood taking and bite making happens.
Romania had stripped him of his shirt and bitten his hip, it was meant to be a quick boost- an energy drink kind of boost to get him through the meeting. But, he finds England's skin mesmerising and can't help but strip England of all clothing and bites his thighs, behind his knees, his wrists, completely devouring him. England's weary after that round and Romania's full- too full. They lie in bed together doing nothing but laying beside each other.
It's not too long, that drinking becomes a once in an every now thing- he just finds England too amusing, so he starts just having sex with England, only taking blood when it was absolutely necessary. And the sex is wonderful. England lying there with him… Romania just loves being accepted- he even forgets Hungary hates him.
He overhears Nations warn England about him- warning him of what he already knows… they don't know of the bite marks barely hidden by his white shirt. England rolls his eyes and later when Romania takes a bite- a little higher than England's comfortable with, he's questioned about what kind of vampire he is.
Moroi or Strigoi?
"Does it really matter?" he questions a little hurt- does it matter if he's considered a "good" or "bad" vampire? Romania's eyes are filled with anguish and England smiles up at him.
"Of course not I just want to know more about my vampire," Romania's shocked by the answer and laughs. He explains everything about himself- his whole life- the things England may have know, the things he may not and he doesn't stop there, he shares his dreams, the anguish of getting past the killing stage of turning into a vampire- he shares how hurtful the first insult sent his way were.
And he lays in England's arms afterwards smiling and a burden lifted from his shoulders… everything was going to be alright. He had England, he was accepted… and… he was going to love every moment of it while it lasts and… Thank God for Dracula…
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That OK? Well that's all you're getting!