Day One.

Up and down, up and down. Alucard could feel the skin on his back sticking to the cheap, textured wallpaper of the motel room, a slim film of sweat conforming to his slender form. The Vampire didn't think he would ever truly get used to this, to having this man above him, to having a rough, masculine hand around his member that was not his own hand, stroking in a pattern he could never quite predict. It wasn't as if he didn't like it, it was just new to him, new and addictive, almost like a drug—The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of keeping it secret, was too pleasurable to give up.

With a soft gasp, Alucard pulled his back away from the wall, arching it, as he pressed his shoulder blades closer. It was almost over, they both knew, as Anderson began to slow down. The priest pushed Alucard back against the wall completely, whispering softly for the Vampire to relax, as his hand found its way to one of the other's leg, pulling it up to waist level, thrusting his hips up.

"Anderson." A hand reached out, with a slow motion, to pick up his glass. Four hours, it had been four hours since they first checked into the motel room. "Why do you keep staring?"

"Why won't you look at me?" The man replied, lethargically, in that Roman accent of his. Alucard had been avoiding eye contact, had been keeping his gaze down and towards the walls, for most of the four hours. "And, how come you are drinking wine? You're a Vampire."

Elegantly, the black haired man brought that cold glass up to equally cold lips, to sip the red liquid. "I can drink or eat what I want, but why should I? Blood tastes the best, and it is all I need to live." A reticent smile came over him then, as those eyes flicked over to the blonde before him. "And I am looking at you now."

"Yes, but," Anderson smiled, reaching out to grasp the other's face tenderly. "You're not looking into my eyes."

"I was." Alucard pushed that hand away as he turned his head to once again face the wall. "Why does it matter?" A quizzical look was shot towards Anderson as the black haired man stood from his seat. The wine glass was set upon the table, before the nude Vampire made his way over to the pile of clothing that had been recklessly tossed aside during the first few moments of their earlier passion.

"Why does it matter?" Repeated the priest, as he gave a cynical look to his newfound lover. "It is relevant because I want you to be able to look at me. I wouldn't sleep with you if I didn't care about you."

Alucard turned to stare at Anderson then, stopping in the middle of picking up his pants. How could Anderson so nonchalantly say something like that? But he gave no more thought to it other than the question, deciding to merely finish getting dressed.

"I can't do this."

"You cannot do what?" The Father set aside his glass, and then rose to his feet. Swiftly making his way to the other, he gave a smile. "If you're talking about sleeping with me again, I am most certain that you can do that." And then the priest's arms were slid around the Vampire's waist, and he pulled him close. "You would not have done it if you wouldn't be able to do it more than a few times."

Alucard turned away, tugging his shirt on quickly, giving a slight frown to the other. "You know, for someone who is so hateful towards my kind, you are awfully attached to me. How come you wanted sex?"

"I could ask the same to you." Anderson kneeled down, to sort through the clothing. "How come you allowed me to fuck you?"

The Vampire turned his back to Anderson, finishing up with getting dressed. His coat was put on, and then his tie was fixed up right. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me." Alucard then made his way to the door, stopping to give a glance back at the blonde. "I'll come back to you later, when I'm ready."

"So, this is the last time we do this?" Anderson sat down fully on the ground, turning his head to stare over at Alucard. "You said the first time we did this, that you'd be mine for as long as I was alive. I should have known that meant nothing to you—What would a mortal mean to an immortal anyway? Nothing." He pushed up his glasses, and then pulled his pants onto his legs. "So maybe the next time we meet, I will have to kill you. You are just another Vampire."

"Shut up, Alexander. You know this isn't the last time." The door slammed, then Alucard made his way down the concrete walk along the motel. How dare Anderson accuse him of being so blasé about something such as sleeping with someone—especially another man!

"Glad to see you back, Alucard." Integra was sitting at her desk, cigar held between her lips. "It's not like you to be off for more than a few hours. Tell me, were you fighting with that priest from Section XIII of the Vatican's Iscariot division?" Smoke was let out of her mouth as her hands folded together, elbows resting on the hard surface of her desk. "I am aware that you can hold yourself in a fight against him, but you are too important an asset to lose in a fight that does not need to be fought."

"My master," the Vampire began, with a slight bow to Integra, "I don't deny that I was out, nor that I was near that priest, but I deny that I was . . . fighting." He chuckled softly to himself, as he regained his poise. "What was it you wanted to see me for, Sir Integra?"

"Avoiding questions, I see. Do not get yourself harmed, Alucard. We need you." The cigar was plucked from between her lips by gloved fingers then set down in an ashtray. "There has been an outbreak of zombies near the Shropshire area, and, of course, we expect a Vampire to be behind the occurrence. You and Seras are to be sent there, at the end of two days from now. I am not even sure you need her with you, but just as a provisional, she will be sent with you. Now, if you would excuse me, I need my rest." The woman gestured for Alucard to leave, and he did quite promptly. Good. A few nights away from this place would due him well, and hopefully Anderson would not show up in Shropshire.

Alucard made his way down the hall, stopping only briefly to stare outside at the world beyond. What did Alexander mean when he said that a mortal man would mean nothing to an immortal man? The Vampire sighed, once again making his way down the hall. Perhaps a good day of rest would clear his mind, allow him to forget about that man for a while. It wasn't as if that priest was in love with him, was it?

Hah, it couldn't be, he thought. No way in Hell.

"Damn. . . I left my hat at the motel."