Have some bizarre. It's a bit rambly, but there we go. Part 2 to follow.

Don't own.

The Count sat in his throne and sulked. Bertrand, with his rolling 'r's and wavy hair... The man was an irritation, nothing more. So why couldn't he stop thinking about him?

It had been centuries since the Count had been with another male, and he didn't know why that should change now. He couldn't deny, however, that his son's tutor was a fairly attractive specimen of vampirehood, and it had also been a while since he'd got any sort of... 'action', at all... Perhaps he should seek a meeting of convenience between the two of them.

He cornered Bertrand in the training room, where the younger vampire was pummelling a punchbag as if it had personally offended him. He turned, brushing a stray curl off of his face, and waited to hear why the Count had entered his personal domain.
"Bertrand. I have a proposition for you."

Bertrand didn't take in much after that. This had to be some kind of a joke; the Dracula family were toying with him.
"Did Ingrid put you up to this, or was it the other way round?" The Count raised an eyebrow, confused. "You're the better actor, at any rate – it was obvious she was just messing with me. Should I expect a visit from Vlad later?"

"I was being serious, Bertrand. Consider your answer carefully."
The tutor frowned. "Forgive me; I make a policy of avoiding personal attachmen-"
"Attachment has nothing to do with it." Count Dracula scoffed. "No strings, just... convenience."
The other vampire shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. I'm flattered, but no."

The Count turned on his heel. "Fine. I'll find my fun elsewhere." He left in a huff, and Bertrand wondered what on earth had just happened. First Ingrid had sought him out with some ridiculous line about how he would be the perfect partner in crime, among other things, and now the Count was hitting on him. He lashed out at the punchbag again, but turned almost immediately at the sound of yet another interruption.

"Frustrated?" The innocent tone of enquiry could only have come from his student. Bertrand shrugged, rolling his shoulders slightly to ease the tension in his muscles. Vlad wandered casually across the room, running his hand lightly along the wall as he passed it, watching his fingers trail over the stone as he spoke. "I'll have to have a word with my family. I heard everything."

Of course, Vlad had said something about working on using his senses to best effect. Bertrand had assumed that was an excuse for his charge to slope off and read comics, but it seemed that he was taking this whole Chosen One business seriously at last.
"I suppose I should be flattered, although I think Ingrid was just toying with me."
"Oh, no, she was toying with me. She knew how I'd react. Dad, though, he's just bored." The Chosen One wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I'd rather not think about it too much."

Bertrand watched him closely as he approached. "How would your sister trying to seduce me affect you?"
Vlad chuckled darkly. "You know the answer to that. You've known for a while, now, you just haven't worked out how to react yet. Well, you've had plenty of practice in rejecting people today. Care to add one more to the list?" His tone was light, but slightly bitter, as if he already knew what Bertrand was going to say.

Well, that was good for him, because Bertrand certainly didn't. As if being hit on by every member of his student's family wasn't problematic enough, now the very vampire who occupied his every thought was joining the game. He couldn't exactly admit to the way he felt about him, but he didn't want to lie to the Chosen One... he would have to stall for time while he worked out what to do. "What do you mean?"

Vlad rolled his eyes. "You're going to make me say it? Fine. I want you. I more than want you." He was already bracing himself for rejection, but he didn't see that he had anything to lose by being honest now that he'd started. "I don't know... exactly what this is but I have feelings towards you I don't feel towards anyone else, much less my teachers. Do you want me or not?"

Bertrand stared. Of course he wanted... well, he wanted to protect him, to make him happy, to earn his trust, but that was his job. He'd spent a long time telling himself that this was just his job, the calling he'd spent 400 years waiting for. He hadn't let himself admit, because it was safer not to, that he occasionally – well, more than occasionally – fantasised about kissing Vlad, about telling him how he felt, about what would happen if he did. Because those fantasies usually ended abruptly in staking.
"You're serious."

The Chosen One seemed to deflate a little as he nodded. "If it's awkward, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I hope this won't mean you can't train me anymore." He turned away, furious with himself, only to feel Bertrand's hand on his shoulder.

"If you're not serious, it's me who's going to make things awkward." He looked up into his tutor's eyes and saw, among all the usual concern and pride that he usually saw when Bertrand looked at him, the faintest glimmer of something akin to hope. "Because I do want you, Vlad. And I know I shouldn't, but it doesn't go awa-"

He was cut off abruptly as Vlad pulled him down into a scorching kiss, one which seemed to go on for a very long time. And then he pulled away, leaving Bertrand reeling in shock, and made for the door.
"Vlad?" Of course, he should have realised what this abrupt exit would look like to his tutor.

"I'll be back in a moment. I just need to go and tell my family to keep their hands off of what's mine."