#catlevania

“Don’t tell me we’re stuck!” Sypha says.

“I regret to inform you that there is some kind of magic in place on this closet that is reacting to someone,” Trevor says, pointing at Alucard, “And therefore I don’t think any of us are getting out anytime soon. “Remind me, whose idea was it that we all go into the same closet at once?”

“Whose idea was it to put anti-vampire locks on the closets, more like,” Alucard grumbles.

“We’re Belmonts, Alucard. If there’s an anti-vampire anything it’s going to be in our hold.”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Sypha says. “To be fair, we didn’t all go into the closet at once. Or at least, it was a big closet, and we slowly trickled in, and we didn’t expect for the doors to close. And there really is some neat armor in here.” She looks at the doors appraisingly. “I could burn the doors off,” she says.

“Please do not,” Alucard says. “We would roast in such a confined space.”

“I’m going to have to side with the vampire,” Trevor says.

“I have a name, you know,” Alucard says.

“Not when you get us in ridiculous predicaments, you don’t.”

“We don’t know for sure it’s magic,” Sypha says. “Maybe the doors are just…very heavy!”

“Too heavy for me to budge them?” Alucard asks. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I think it’s magic,” Trevor says, and glares at Alucard.

“Will you stop looking at me like that!” Alucard says.

“Nope,” Trevor says.

Alucard sighs and buries his head in his hands. “Sypha, how long will it take you to get us out of here?”

“I only caught a slight glimpse of the symbols around the doorframe before you came over and trapped us,” Sypha says. “So probably about half an hour.”

“Half an hour we can do,” Alucard says.

“Speak for yourself,” Trevor says.

“Believe me, it’s us who have the worst of it,” Alucard says. “By now you’re probably immune to your own stink.”

“First of all, rude.” Trevor says, holding up one finger. “Second of all,” he says, ticking up another finger, “You’re not exactly a sparkling personality yourself. Have you considered that I might not want to be stuck in a teeny tiny closet with Count Grumpy Pants?

“I’m not a count,” Alucard says, “And that’s a frankly hurtful stereotype.”

“Oh, well excuse me if I hurt the poor vampire’s feelings,” Trevor says. “Considering it’s your fault we’re all trapped in here, perhaps you could stand to be a little more morose.”

“Good on you, Belmont!” Alucard says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew what that meant.”

Trevor tries to ignore the electricity that runs through him where Alucard touches him. Just like he does on each occasion that either of his traveling companions touch him. He isn’t going to fuck all this—whatever this was, between the prophecy and the upcoming fight and the uneasy alliance the three had forged—up by getting a stupid schoolboy crush.

He’s not usually an asshole just for fun. Well, that wasn’t true. But he’s not usually an asshole to people who wouldn’t have gleefully participated in the burning of his family. Well—okay, that’s beside the point. What the point was is that he didn’t usually go around making enemies of allies. But he had to hold Alucard at arm’s length, or he would end up holding him in said arms, and that was the last thing he needed.

Sypha he’d tried to keep at a distance too, but Sypha had refused to let him. And understandably; she came from a close-knit society and must have been positively touch-starved after separating from them. Still, sometimes it was all Trevor could do not to beg her to kiss him.

“That’s rude, Alucard,” Trevor says, breaking through his musing when he remembers he hasn’t sniped back in too long.

“You were rude first,” Alucard says.

“And Alucard can be rude last,” Sypha says, “Because I’m absolutely not going to get anything done if you two sit here bickering. If you’d like to get out of here, keep your mouth shut.”

It takes them another ten minutes to crack.

“I’m bored,” Trevor says.

“Oh, he’s bored,” Alucard says. “I’ll be bored if I never get out of this closet because you were too busy whining about being bored.”

“Admit it,” Trevor says. “You’re bored too, and you’re only sniping at me because I said what we were all thinking.”

“Actually, I was not thinking about being bored,” Sypha says. “I was thinking about magic, which I would suggest you let me continue to do if you ever want to get out of this stupid closet.”

“Fuck this,” Trevor says.

“I second that,” Alucard says. “Fuck this discriminatory closet indeed.”

“You’re a vampire in a Belmont stronghold,” Trevor says. “You’ve already seen our collection of fanged skulls, and yet this is what offends you?”

“To be perfectly fair, I was offended by those too!” Alucard says.

“Well can you be offended in silence?” Sypha says.

“But we’re bored, Sypha,” Trevor whines.

“Entertain each other, then,” Sypha says.

“That’s what we were trying to do,” Alucard says.

“Entertain each other in silence,” Sypha says.

They glare cheerfully at each other until Trevor crosses his eyes and Alucard snickers.

“You can laugh,” Trevor exclaims.

“That’s it,” Sypha says. “Alucard, find a way to shut him up or I will gag him.”

Trevor probably shouldn’t be so thrilled about that idea. But that was a problem for another time.

“How would you suggest I do the impossible?” Alucard says.

Sypha shrugs. “Hell if I know,” she says. “Just…kiss him or something.”

Trevor can almost see the moment something snaps into place in Alucard’s brain, and he backs Trevor up against the wall as he stalks towards him like a predator seeking its prey.

Another thought he should not like so much. Another problem for another time.

Because for now, the only things that matter are Alucard’s hand on the wall so close to his face, Alucard leaning down with infinite tenderness unmasked in his eyes, Alucard’s silk-smooth lips on his rough chapped ones.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Sypha says as they separate.

“What,” Trevor says. “Are you jealous?”

“Very,” Sypha says, voice husky.

“Then come kiss me,” Trevor says, throwing caution to the wind.

Where Alucard stalks, Sypha sways. Where Alucard is soft, Sypha is rough. She fists a hand in Trevor’s hair and crashes him into her. Still, somehow it’s infinitely tender.

She kisses him and something in Trevor’s heart is singing, and something else is sobbing. Trevor is sure he’s ruined whatever this fledgling thing is between the three of them. He fucked up. He got greedy and asked for two when he should have taken one. Sypha plasters a smug smile on her face as she pulls away, and Alucard somehow pries his eyes away from the two of them.

“And that, Alucard,” Sypha says, “Is how to properly kiss.”

The bottom of Trevor’s stomach drops out as Alucard stands and turns to leave.

“I should go,” he says.“And not interrupt all this superior kissing.”

He runs straight into the door, forgetting he could not push it open.

“Alucard—” Trevor says, voice dying in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t deny that Sypha means something to him (means everything to him.) But Alucard… Alucard is also a part of him, of them, and he means just as much as Sypha.

Sypha, bright and brilliant as always, offers a second option.

“Or,” she says, moving toward Alucard, carding a hand through his hair and leaning their faces incredibly close.

Trevor doesn’t dare to breathe, doesn’t dare to believe that for once he can get what he wants

Sypha grins. “I could teach you.” The gap between their lips is practically nonexistent.