Robin fell back onto the pillows, totally spent. "You can't use your powers. It's cheating." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "And I am positive there were more stairs today than last time. I think the castle's messing with me again."
Vlad crossed his arms, amused. "I don't know what you're talking about. And I think you'd ought to get yourself in better shape before accusing me of cheating."
"But you did cheat." Robin glanced around Vlad's room. "Do you think you could keep the bed up here, even after you set up the coffin? That way, we can still have sleepovers."
Vlad cocked his head. "Maybe. We might be able to keep the mattress in the closet. I don't think the Count would be very pleased if we kept it in the main room. It's too 'breather-chic' for his tastes."
Robin shrugged. "Want help moving it?"
Vlad nodded, although he grinned as Robin stood up. "Actually; hold on, I've got it." He made a 'shoo' motion, winking at Robin's puzzled look.
"Are you about to show me some of your super strength?" Robin asked, with barely repressed enthusiasm. Vlad nodded.
"Wicked!" Robin shoved at Vlad's side.
Vlad smirked. "Step back." He waited until Robin was a safe distance back, and knelt, taking one corner of the mattress in his hand. With a quick flick of his wrist, the mattress was standing upright, balanced easily in his palm.
Robin whistled.
Vlad grinned at him, then gave the mattress a sharp twist with a flick of his wrist. The bed spun in place, becoming a blur, sheets and pillows flying off in every direction. Vlad raced around, grabbing items as they fell. By the time the dust had settled, the sheets were all folded neatly, the pillows stacked in the corner, and the mattress lying exactly where it had been before.
Robin crossed his arms. "Now you're just showing off."
Vlad bowed, tipping an imaginary hat. "What's the damage in there?" he asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the closet. Robin shrugged, and Vlad went to investigate, eyeing the floor. So… not exactly clean, then, but respectable.
He zipped back to the mattress, lifting it effortlessly, and tucked it away in the closet. As an afterthought, he flitted about the room, picking up the pillows and folded sheets and shoving them in as well.
He returned, wiping his hands on his pants, and caught Robin gawking. "I wish I could clean my room that fast," Robin said, sounding wistful. "Would save me loads of time."
Vlad snorted. "Even if you could, you wouldn't," he said, crossing his arms. "When's the last time you cleaned anything?"
"Point taken."
"You know, you still have presents to open," Robin said, leaning against the far wall.
"Oh, right..." After the stress from earlier, all thoughts of birthdays had completely slipped Vlad's mind. "We should probably at least wait for the Count to wake up."
Robin checked his wrist. "It's half past five, now."
Vlad nodded. "Okay, so we've got another hour to kill, at least."
Robin pulled out Vlad's desk chair and sat on it backward, balancing his elbows on the chair back. He rested his chin on his crossed forearms. "You know, I'm impressed with you, Vlad."
Vlad blushed; though only mentally, of course. "What for?"
Robin shrugged. "For, you know, resisting m—I mean, the blood Ingrid tried to give you earlier. That can't have been easy."
Vlad fetched a spare chair from the other end of the room, setting it across from Robin and mirroring his posture. "Don't mention it." He winced. "Really. Don't."
Robin rubbed his neck. "So, what happened in there? In the room with the blood mirror, I mean. You were screaming for ages."
Vlad's brow furrowed. "I really don't remember much. It's all a bit of a blur."
Robin seemed disappointed by his answer, but nodded. "You know, I was wondering…" He shook his head. "Nevermind."
"What?"
Robin's heart rate picked up a notch, and Vlad glanced at him, curious. Robin suddenly seemed intensely preoccupied with a spot just over Vlad's left shoulder.
"Earlier today, you…. Well. That is… do you still want to drink my blood? Right now?"
Vlad swallowed. "I'm trying really, really hard not to think about it." He paused, figuring he should be honest with him. His stomach leapt. "But... yes."
Robin's face was bright red. "Ah."
"It's not as bad when I hold my breath, though," Vlad added, a bit too quickly. He'd been doing his best to hold his breath for the last hour or so, only taking in enough air to speak.
Robin raised his eyebrows. "You still breathe?"
"Well, I have to, to talk. But other than that? No; it's just, you know old habits die hard." Vlad's face lit up as he remembered. "Actually, you're not going to believe this, but..." he leaned in conspiratorially. "I have a heartbeat."
"Seriously? But I thought…?"
"So did I, but... I guess my heart just beats really slowly. As in, once every few minutes." Vlad bit his lip, embarrassed. "I've always been crap at vampire biology."
A look of curiosity came over Robin's face. "Hey, not to sound off, but could I… feel it? Your heartbeat, I mean?" There were twin spots of red in his cheeks. "Actually… let's pretend I didn't say that."
Vlad thought about it. Robin had been showing a great deal of constraint today, all things considered. A little curiosity was perfectly understandable.
"No, it's fine," Vlad said at last, shrugging. "You can, if you want. Um..."
He scooted his chair closer to Robin's, doing his best not to do it at top-speed; though, judging by his friend's expression, he hadn't succeeded. He should probably work on that. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Robin looked at him expectantly.
Vlad cleared his throat. "Give me your hand, then."
Robin held out his hand obediently, and Vlad brought it to his throat. "It might take several minutes before you feel anything," he warned, and Robin nodded.
Vlad schooled his face into what he hoped was an expression of encouragement, ignoring the way his stomach was currently twisting itself in knots. "Okay, now just hold that there, and wait. You'll feel it."
"Your skin's really cold, mate." Ten seconds passed; then, Robin's finger twitched. He sat up straighter. "There! I felt it!"
Vlad smiled. "See? I told you."
He expected Robin to remove his hand, but he didn't. As Vlad watched, his smile faltered. "Wait, I think I felt another one."
Vlad's eyebrows lifted into his hairline. "What?" That couldn't be right. Except, not even five seconds later, Vlad felt it, too.
"There! That was definitely a heart beat." Robin met his eyes. "What's with that?"
Vlad hadn't the slightest idea. "Maybe it was all the running around I did earlier?"
"Maybe," Robin said. His hand was still pressed against Vlad's throat, and Vlad couldn't help but notice Robin's own heart was racing like crazy.
He found it difficult, in fact, to think about anything other than the speed at which blood was currently flowing through Robin's body. He hoped Robin was feeling all right.
It's probably because you're staring at him, you big git.
He chanced a look at Robin's face, only to find wide brown eyes staring back at him intently. Neither seemed to want to be the first to look away.
"Master Vlad?"
Robin and Vlad leapt apart guiltily at the sound. Vlad glared at the doorway. "Renfield! What have I told you about knocking?"
Renfield bowed. "I did, sire. Twice."
Vlad was about to say something snarky—there's no way he would've missed something that loud, given his newfound hearing—but Renfield stopped him short. "Very sorry to interrupt, but I thought you'd want to know; I've finished the first batch of soya blood."
Vlad and Robin exchanged excited looks, the tension from earlier forgotten. "Let's see it, then!" Vlad demanded.
Renfield held up a large wine-bottle of blackish-looking fluid. "Let me know what you think. The taste balance is still a work in progress." He waggled his brows. "It's a special recipe of my own design."
Vlad took the bottle eagerly, uncorking it and bringing it to his nose. He took a whiff, and groaned.
"Go on—give it a taste."
Vlad raised the bottle in a mock-toast, then took a sip. His eyes widened; he had to grip the doorframe to stop his knees from buckling. "Oh, wow," he managed, after swallowing.
It was richer than a home-cooked meal, and fresher than the purest spring water. He took an even larger gulp, savoring the feel of it on his tongue. "God, that's fantastic."
Robin coughed. His face had become a peculiar shade of pink. "That good, huh?"
Vlad nodded, enthusiastic. "Renfield, you're a genius."
His manservant grinned wolfishly at them. "You think?"
"Yes, I do," he insisted. "Do me a favor, will you, and make as much of this as you can." He took another sip and sighed. "Do you know what this means? I'll never need a single drop of blood, human or animal. This is incredible!"
Renfield turned to leave, but Vlad stopped him. "Wait," he said, curiosity getting the better of him. "If you don't mind me asking… what's in it, exactly?"
"It's quite simple," Renfield replied, puffing his chest. "I started with a liquid soya base and some iron, along with several other metallic supplements… what else?" He stared up at the ceiling. "Oh, yes, I threw in some tapioca paste, and a few handfuls of Transylvanian beetle wings. I think it adds a certain something extra, don't you?" Vlad wrinkled his nose; some of the ingredients didn't sound too bad, though he wasn't sure how he felt about that last one.
"Excellent," he said at last. What did it matter, in any case? Beetle wings were the least of his problems. If it worked, then he'd happily eat a thousand.
Robin came up and patted him on the back. "That's wonderful, mate. Let's go celebrate by opening some presents, yeah? It's nearly six."
Vlad nodded. "Good idea. Come on, Renfield. I promise, I won't forget this."
"Not at all, Master Vlad," Renfield said, as they made their way down the long stone staircase. "Happy Birthday."
As the sound of their footsteps started to recede, a small brown bat flew down from its roosting spot on the ceiling, and materialized on the top of the stairs.
Ingrid dusted off her robes. "Happy Birthday, indeed," she whispered after them. She watched Vlad wrap his arm around Robin as they turned the corner. How absurd, she shuddered. Vlad was obviously completely infatuated with the breather.
But it made no difference now. The seed was planted; all she had to do was sit back and wait.
