OK this one took on a life of its own, so it's a bit long and a bit graphic (or at least, I feel like it is. Your mileage may vary.) Steamy chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Fog, Bertrand, what's gotten into you tonight?" Robin was gasping desperately for breath as Bertrand pinned his wrists against a bookcase and trailed teeth and tongue over his newly-exposed chest.
"I missed you," he murmured. "Bran, if you- if you want-" But Robin was too busy moaning as his lover caressed his back to hear the rest of his words. He realised, as Bertrand's touch faltered, that he must have missed something important.
"Sorry, B." He kissed his cheek by way of further apology. "Say again?"
"I... when I was away... I bought some... in my bag... there's... if you want..." Now that his wrists were free, Robin was making short work of the buttons of the vampire's shirt, fingers working deftly beneath the cape, but he paused halfway down to let Bertrand finish his sentence. "If you want to try it, we... you can." It took a few moments for that to make any sense at all in his head, but then he had to stifle a moan.

"Blood," he managed at last, "oh, blood." Bertrand shivered against him and he frowned. "Bit drastic, though, B."
"I can take it, I... it's not like it's brand new-"
"Exactly." Lust aside, Robin was worried that his lover was going to push himself too far again. "B, I've missed you too, but..." He ran his hand very gently around to touch Bertrand's backside, and the vampire flinched. "...You see what I mean? I know you want to just decide you're better, but it doesn't work like that."
"Why doesn't it work like that?" For a moment Bertrand seemed close to tears, but then he pulled himself together. "I'm sorry. I just... I just wanted us to be able to... I wanted to show you how much I love you." Robin shushed him gently, peppering kisses over his shoulders and reaching down for his trousers.
"I know how much you love me, B." But the vampire was dropping to his knees, and pretty soon Robin was completely incapable of doing anything but stroking his lover's cheek and crying out.

When he opened his eyes, Bertrand was still kneeling at his feet, looking up at him as he clung to the shelves for support. He looked deliciously ravished, and Robin found himself dropping to his own knees, grabbing his lover and rolling so that he was lying beneath him, unfastening his trousers at last and reaching in to coax a hundred different desperate wanting sounds from Bertrand's lips. The vampire was barely holding himself up by the time he finally groaned his release.
"Love you too," Robin murmured, and pulled him down to lie beside him.


Half an hour later, they were walking through the grounds towards their little home. Since it was the middle of the night, they were wandering across open lawns, hands entwined, looking up at the stars. Bertrand pulled Robin closer – the boy had had to take his shirt off, Bertrand had ruined it in Vlad's library – to make sure his cape was wrapped right around him, protecting him from the worst of the chill. Of course, to make things fair, Robin had insisted that he take his own shirt off as well, and Bertrand had thought he might wear it. After all, Bertrand didn't really feel the cold; his lover's need was greater. But Robin had just smirked at him and tucked it into Bertrand's travelling bag before pulling him outside.

"B," the boy began, now. "do you think you're ready?" He frowned; he'd thought that had become horribly clear back in the library – but Robin was shaking his head. "Not... I meant are you ready to bite me? Because I did a lot of thinking when you were away, and I think... I think maybe we should do it soon. If you want."
"Am I ready?" He frowned; he hadn't really thought about it. "Well... I want to sort out a couple of things, but... as long as Vlad's there to make sure I don't ruin things... Yes. I want you mine." Robin kissed him, obviously pleased, and then they walked for several minutes in silence.

"You know, it sort of makes sense," Robin said, as if continuing a conversation they'd been having all along. "Definitely makes sense, if you think about it." They turned in under the porch and Bertrand spent the time it took Robin to find his key and unlock the door trying to work out what that imaginary conversation might have been about, but it was useless. He let Robin pull him over the threshold and into his arms before giving up.
"What does?" The door closed behind them, Robin seemed a little less reluctant to explain himself.
"You not being ready. It's understandable. It's kind of a big deal, B."
"You seem alright with it – the other night, before I left-"
"I've never had a bad experience like you did, love." Robin was stroking his neck with his thumb, and it was oddly reassuring. "Nobody's ever touched me any way I didn't like, because the only guy I've ever been with is this incredible, sensitive, sexy man who just happens to also be you."
"I-"
"Which is why I trust you. And if you bought supplies on your trip, you must have been thinking about it. So if you want to take that step, now, then I think that's OK."

Bertrand felt his whole body tense; he couldn't do this. He wanted to, of course he did, but he couldn't. Robin had been right earlier, he was terrified of even being touched from behind – he'd been wary when Robin had given him a massage last week – and there was no way he could just squash that fear down and get on with it, no matter how pathetic that was.
"I can't-"
"Just... with one difference, B. Like I said, you're the only one who's touched me, and I trust you." He blinked; what was his dear breather driving at?
"Bran-"
"I promise you won't break me." And then it hit him, what Robin was truly offering him. Blood, it was enough to make his head spin for a moment; the absolute trust in his lover's eyes, the power he had over him...
"You-?"
"If you don't want to, tell me, it was just an i-" Robin was abruptly cut off as Bertrand pinned him against the wall and kissed him.
"Are you sure-?"
"Yes. Fog, yes, Bertrand. Please."

Ten minutes later, they were in their coffin, and Robin's hands were wandering over his bare chest as he tried to open a bottle with trembling fingers. Fingers which, when he finally suceeded, began delicately probing, stroking and soothing as Robin tensed and relaxed and moaned.
"Are you alr-?"
"Please, oh, blood, Bertrand... more..." He obediently kept going, eyes fixed firmly on Robin's face, searching for any sign of discomfort. The breather caught at his arm, though, each time he noticed one and tried to pull away. "It's alright, I'm alright. I want you to."

At last, after what seemed like forever, the tone of Robin's noises changed.
"Oh- oh, B, please..." He was torn; part of him was terrified of hurting Robin, of scarring him the way he himself had been scarred... but most of him wanted to make him moan, make him cling to him and beg him not to stop. He wanted them to be together, but he couldn't risk breaking his breather in the process. He pulled back, earning an involuntary whimper of complaint from Robin, and reached into his bag.


Robin couldn't decide if he felt bereft at the feeling of Bertrand's fingers leaving him, or excited by the thought of what would soon take their place. He'd just about settled on a kind of nervous anticipation when Bertrand reached into his bag and all those emotions were briefly overwhelmed by a blood-chilling terror.
"B-?" But Bertrand wasn't turning the stake on himself, and there was no way he'd ever try to hurt Robin with one, and Robin felt a little of the sudden tension leave him as the weapon was pressed into his hand. It wasn't Bertrand's trusty old stake, the one he kept in a drawer on the other side of the room; it was a simple slayer's weapon, and he doubted it had ever even been used before. He took it, waiting impatiently for an explanation.
"If I hurt you, or... if it seems like I'm going to bite... I want you to use it. Promise me, Robin." He shook his head.
"I can't promise that. I won't."
"Bran, just... just... you can't let me break you." Robin reached up, dropping the stake down next to him, and pulled him into a kiss.
"I won't. Idiot." Bertrand nodded, looking slightly reassured, and gestured for him to pick up the weapon again. "No, I don't want to stake you by accident. I can reach it, I promise."

Bertrand regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded again.
"Ready, then?"
"Yes. Yes."
"I love you," his vampire whispered, and carefully began pushing himself inside him.

Robin saw stars; everything was suddenly a thousand times more intense, every sensation amplified, and his hands came to grip at Bertrand's hips, guiding his slow progress until he was completely filled. He blinked until his lover came into focus, peering anxiously down at him, and smiled.
"Oh, blood, I'm glad we're doing this." It was a struggle to get the words out, but he had a feeling he was going to have to keep an eye on Bertrand over the next few minutes, to keep reassuring him. "Are you alright?" A nod. "Can you... keep going?" Bertrand made a little moany noise and began to move.

Time lost all meaning, and it felt like years and yet only seconds - Bertrand's hand reaching for him, his own clutching at Bertrand's arms, desperate keening noises and a steady stream of murmured endearments and pleas and assurances that he was better than alright oh blood just don't stop – before he was on the edge of ecstacy, Bertrand's movements triggering something incredible inside him.
"B, I'm – oh – oh blood-!" Bertrand made a noise of mingled terror and joy and Robin felt himself letting go, spilling over the edge and crying out his fiance's name.

Of course, in the seconds after that, as he gasped for breath, Bertrand's fangs suddenly plummeted towards his throat and instinct took over.
"I want you to use it. Promise me, Robin." And he did.


Bertrand couldn't quite believe the picture Robin made, lying beneath him, legs folded awkwardly out of the way as Bertrand... he couldn't dwell on that, or it would all be over too soon. Maybe Robin wanted it to be over? He searched his breather's eyes for doubts, but they were fluttering shut and judging by the way he was talking, begging him not to stop, telling him he loved him and needed him and assuring him that he wasn't hurting him... Robin was alright. Robin was enjoying this. And maybe... maybe Bertrand was getting something right.

"B, I'm – oh – oh blood-!" He couldn't choke back the uncertain crowing noise that escaped him – fog, he hoped that was the good kind of oh blood, but his brain was too fried to tell – and then Robin was coming, Bertrand's name spilling from his lips, and instinct was telling him to muffle his own cry against Robin's neck, to pierce tender flesh with sharp-

The stake snapped up, suddenly securely gripped in Robin's hand, and Bertrand just barely had time to thank any higher power that might be paying attention for making his idiot listen. Then there were no more thoughts, just a bittersweet euphoria and the jarring of something solid against his teeth as his hips jerked one last glorious time against Robin's.

He opened his eyes, suddenly horrified, only to find Robin staring back up at him, stake held horizontally between his hands, Bertrand's jaw clamped around it. They stayed there, frozen, for several long seconds before Robin burst out laughing.
"Fog, I love you." He let go of the stake, allowing Bertrand to remove it from his mouth and drop it over the side of the coffin before slowly shuffling backwards until he could slump beside his lover. "And that was incredible. I mean... it was OK, right?" The slightly dreamy smile didn't even leave his face, and Bertrand was sure he looked just as ridiculously blissed-out.
"It was wonderful, Bran. Oh, blood, you're... you're just wonderful."
"Mm. Good, does that mean you're gonna keep me forever...?" Robin trailed off, throwing an arm over Bertrand's hip, hand trailing across his back as he mumbled something incoherent and fell asleep.

Bertrand just gazed at him in wonder for a few moments, brushing a stray hair gently away from his lover's eye. How Robin could still surprise him after all these years he'd never know, but he always did, and Bertrand could hardly believe that something so precious could truly be his.
"Forever." He closed his eyes and drifted off, safe in Robin's arms.