Chapter Text
Trevor Belmont was no stranger to bad days or weird occurrences. To the contrary his life had been one very long, unending, maddening stretch of ridiculously bad days after another since the ‘tender’ age of thirteen or so, more than enough to drive more sensible and less stubborn men to just give up and weird...well, the world was weird, wasn’t it? It took a lot to rattle him these days, and that wasn’t just something to boost his ego but rather was a matter of fact. He was used to life shitting on him and had learned to, when the chips were down and things were looking as bleak as they always did, to just keep rolling with the punches.
It was more a matter of not knowing what else to do with himself than anything else, if he was being strictly honest. He’d long since aged out of the child welfare system, exhausted any aid the great country of Wallachia had for him (not much), and left with no ideas and no friends he’d just...kept going to lack of ideas. What did a person do when they had no money, their only friend was part of a slightly fanatical sort of cult, and mentioning their true name could make people recoil because hadn’t the Belmont’s been branded traitors to the country, murderers, criminals, and either run out or killed?
The answer, in Trevor’s case, was drink too much, wander around picking up odd jobs in order to drink more, and occasionally manhandle and jerk guys off in bathrooms when the money was especially thin. He’d even fucked a few, always mousy nervous guys he assumed had kids his age and pretty wives and retirement funds but had some sort of itch under their skin they were hiding from. Or maybe not, it wasn’t his job to worry about why they did what they did, and as long as they paid he didn’t care, not really. It was work.
Work that had lead him to his current situation of sitting across from a young, attractive man who wanted to hire him to be his housekeep-slash-fake boyfriend-slash-actual living sex doll. Or so it sounded to him anyway; admittedly he hadn’t listened to everything the guy was saying quite as closely as he could have.
In his defense it was a lot of boring words being spoken, and even more boring words on the pages of paper that had been pushed across the large glass topped desk for him to look over, and he was uncomfortably sober. The headache ever present behind his eyes and the harshly bright lights of office, lighting up the room against the early dark of winter lurking outside the windows, were doing him no favors, but even without those all this talking would have bored him half to death.
He shifted in his chair, trying to stretch discreetly in hopes of waking himself up a little, and refocused on the man across from him. Cold, strange eyes, long blond hair, wavy and drawn into a ponytail that seemed to not have a single hair out of place, full cupid’s bow lips, sharp hairless jawline, in a well cut and fitted suit that emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and trimness of his waist, legs that went on for days, and-
Trevor had checked the guy out a little, or a lot, but he was hot so who wouldn’t? Hot and not at all what Trevor had expected. He was here because he’d seen an ad hanging up in the lobby of a dingy little motel he sometimes crashed at, and this guy, this Alucard, was not the sort of person to frequent places like that. It was more known for letting people creep in and out for an hour or two at a time, without an ID and with a fistful of cash, than anything good. This guy no doubt kept his whores in penthouse apartments or took them to legitimate hotels for the night, not no name hotels with bedbugs and cockroaches the size of rats, and he sure as hell didn’t need to advertise for one in that kind of place.
And yet that was just where Trevor had found the ad that had eventually lead him here.
‘Wanted, one able bodied and above average fitness level adult, preferable early to mid twenties, as a roommate. A furnished room, food, and generous weekly stipend will be provided in exchange for housekeeping, cooking, acting as an escort to social events, and a willingness to help with various research projects. Must be very open minded, flexible, clean, and able to commit to one employer completely. Sex and Gender of no consequence. Contact Alucard at 555-8267’
A little odd, at first glance, but nothing that seemed terribly out of the ordinary, aside from where it was posted. But Trevor had been around and knew how to read between the lines of things, how to pick out words and phrases to get a true idea of things. The use of the word escort instead of date, the mentioned of research, being open minded and clean, able to commit to one employer: it all came together to create the image of someone, a man he’d assumed, looking for a live in prostitute who was clean and willing to not take any other clients for the time being.
Some sort of sugar daddy bullshit. He’d pictured someone old or unattractive, probably on the gross side personality wise, entitled enough to want their cock touched regularly while giving nothing back, and unwilling to waste the time on a real lover. Probably interested in ‘kink’ (research indeed), but in the form of being able to beat the shit out whoever was unlucky enough to cross their path, and were hoping money would buy them the right to abuse.
Lucky for them Trevor was sturdy, not unused to getting knocked around, and just desperate enough to tolerate it within reason, if the price was right. He wasn’t even adverse to living with some old pervert for for at least the winter months.
He wasn’t in a position to be picky. Winter was coming to Gresit fast and that meant the shelters were filling up on the regular and a single guy in his twenties was always last to be admitted, after women, children, and the elderly. He’d spent more nights on stone cold benches or huddled on sidewalk grates and vents to soak up the warmth from down below than he had indoors lately. The cops were out in force at night lately, chasing Trevor and other unlucky souls away from their usual spots, and in some effort to make the city more presentable (aka keeping the homeless away from welltread areas) benches and sidewalks were gaining spikes and bars and divides that made them near impossible to sleep on.
Sypha and her people, the always creepy and fanatical Speakers, were going to be elsewhere this winter, ministering to the poor and spreading their good word in other cities. That left Trevor without the option to swallow his pride and come crawling to them to ask for a spot in the corner in whatever cramped and meager place they were occupying that year. There had been an offer to come with them but, at the time, he’d been doing okay doing pizza delivery for a local place that hadn’t cared about his name or that he was sleeping in his car behind the restaurant some nights.
But then his usual luck had kicked in, the car died, he’d been robbed of a not inconsiderable chunk of the money he was saving up for his own place, and the shithead college student who usually worked his job had finally slunk back from break to take his position back. Lacking a car as he was sacking Trevor had been the easy thing to do.
Almost as easy as answering that ad had been, Trevor imagined.
He’s been surprised to be directed to meet a man at a free clinic near the motel not so much because he was being directed to get tested, but because it wasn’t some old pervert. No, the man he’d met was young, his age maybe, with wavy gray-blond hair and smooth tan skin, dressed in a suit that was probably more than Trevor had ever had to his name in his entire adult life. He was soft spoken, with a light accent, and had sharp eyes that spoke of a man who missed very little.
Trevor had assumed he was Alucard, and called him as such, and when he’d gotten the email directing him to a uptown office building that Trevor, wearing the same clothes he had for the past three days and marginally clean only by grace of a gas station bathroom, had no business being allowed inside of for a meet up he’d kept doing that all through their ‘interview’. It had been pretty basic, asking about his education and future plans, drug and drinking habits, sexual and medical history, and then signing off on a background check permission (he’d been pretty sure that would fuck his chances but what was he going to say, no?) and an NDA. The latter had made him a little nervous, who was this guy to have a huge office in a huge building and be important enough to made Trevor sign an agreement to not speak about meeting him, but desperation was what it was.
Another email had come a few days later and Trevor, all too aware that the first snow of the year was due any day now, had been all too eager to make his way to an apartment building, also uptown. He’s expected to meet up with the gray haired man but instead it was a blond who’d opened the door for him, introduced himself as Alucard Lumu, and directed him inside.
A quick tour of the apartment had followed and been more than enough to leave Trevor feeling off kilter and confused. It was a nice place, really nice. The building itself was some renovated factory, still industrial looking with its concrete floors, exposed piping and vents that were now painted glossy black or shined to a gleaming silver, and open floor plan that had let Trevor take in the kitchen and common areas all at once. The kitchen was huge, more square footage than the room he’d shared with three other boys back at the group home, and boasted more appliances than any one person could ever need, marble counter tops, dark wood cabinets, and a lot of stainless steel. The living room and dining room, separated by the way the furniture was set up, were like something out of a magazine, leather and metal, swooping curves and sharp edges, and nothing out of place or not matching the decor.
From there he’d been showed to the left hallway, where a bathroom and the ‘guest room’ lay. The guest room was furnished simply, a queen sized bed, dresser, and wardrobe, desk with a laptop on the top, and a mirror fixed to the sliding doors of a closet large enough for Trevor to comfortably sleep in.
After that he’d followed the man to the right side of the apartment, where he was shown a closed door (“My bedroom”) and the office he was no seated in. It was like the front room, blacks and silvers, leather, glass, and metal everywhere, some bland art on the wall. No papers sat on the desk, all the books in the bookshelf were perfectly upright and in place, and nothing stood out or called attention, save a single framed photo on the desk.
A stoic dark haired man, a smiling blond woman, and in her arms, on her lap, a young boy with tight blond curls and laughter on his lips. Trevor could see both the man and the woman on the face of the man across from him and could draw the appropriate conclusions.
It was a really nice place. Nicer than anywhere Trevor had been in...over a decade.
The guy had money to live in a place like this, with these kind of surroundings, wasn’t hard on the eyes, and so far didn’t seem to have any human skin lamps or books hidden around. He even had normal looking parents.
What was the deal here?
“Do you sleep with many men, Belmont?”
The question disrupted his thoughts. Trevor let his eyes roll heavenward, stalling for time behind a thoughtful frown, and tried to quickly backtrack what he hadn’t been listening to in order to ensure he hadn’t missed anything too important. He decided quickly he had no fucking idea what he’d missed and shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you mean by many. And sleep with. Are we talking all sexual contact ever or just penetration or what?” He scratched at his stubble. “Are we being Catholic about it, or political?”
“Don’t be obtuse.” The man stared at him, eerie golden eyes wholly unimpressed. “Do you get fucked by a lot of men?”
“That’s awfully personal for a first meeting, isn’t it?” There was a flicker of exasperation on the man’s face before it smoothed over, perfectly handsome and cold, once again.
He sighed and started to reach for an envelope Trevor had noted when he’d sat down at the desk. “Perhaps we should end this-”
“No.” Trevor cut him off, sitting up a little straighter. Once again his mouth was about to get him into trouble, damn his inability to just shut up and answer questions. “No. I don’t...get...I’ve never, you know. Bottomed.”
“I see.” If he hadn’t known better he would have said the man looked surprised. The blond drew his hand back from the envelope, head tilting to the side slightly. “Would you?”
Trevor shrugged again. He wasn’t normally so uncomfortable with blunt conversation, getting straight to the point without all the dancing around niceties and ‘the bare minimum of human decency’ was how he liked to get things done! But something about Alucard’s intent gaze, the cool cultured voice, and the slight downward tilt to his mouth made Trevor feel very...exposed. He couldn’t explain it and, in any other circumstances, wouldn’t bother dealing with it.
A look towards the windows showed the glass fogged over with fingers of icy webbing creeping up from the corners.
“I could.” He said slowly. He hoped ‘for the sake of money’ was implied. The blond’s eyes dropped back to the papers in front of him.
“I’ve had Hector, the man you me with at first, talk to over a dozen people on my behalf and I believe you most closely meet my needs. Assuming you have no issue with my privacy and loyalty demands-”
Was that what all that talking had been about? Jesus fucking Christ, this fucking guy must really like the sound of his own voice. “Yeah, I got it. Keep my mouth shut, keep it in my pants, blah blah. It’s not like I can talk to anyone without admitting that I’m a-” Whore, a less than kind voice whispered to him silently. If he had any remaining shame it might have made him pause but, alas, there was only room for hunger and maybe alcoholism in his life. He was still undecided on the latter. “Sex worker, so no worries there.”
Alucard eyed him wordlessly then nodded. A pen was pushed across the table for Trevor to take up. “Sign and date pages 3 and 6, indicating you understand that everything we discuss here is between us and that speaking of it with anyone will result in legal action, and we can proceed.”
Trevor did just that, skeptical of how binding a contract like that could be but unwilling to make a fuss. Once that was done Alucard reached over to flip through the papers to another page waiting for a signature.
“I am looking for a...companion, capable of performing a number of tasks, both privately and publicly.”
Trevor’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Publicly?”
“Yes.” Alucard made a face. “My parents believe I’m seeing someone, and have been for some time. It’s a lie I told to stop their ceaseless, and painful, attempts to set me up with the children of friends and coworkers and since they live elsewhere I didn’t expect it to be a problem anytime soon. However my mother has decided to open a practice here, in Gresit, and I need a lover to show them.”
Trevor blinked. Blinked again, then shook his head. “What? That...you know you can get a real boyfriend, right?”
“I don’t want a real boyfriend. ” Alucard twisted the word on his tongue like a person would a foul curse or particularly disgusting taste. “I don’t have the time or desire for such an inconvenience.”
“You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”
“What I do have is a considerable amount of money I’m willing to pay to someone who plays the part, and then removes themself from my presence until I need them again.”
Definitely a romantic.
“And, further, to pay someone to tend to my physical needs, such as they are, without the complications of a relationship.” Between his mild tone and almost bored expression Trevor could almost believe they were discussing something as mundane as sports or the weather and not selling sex. “It makes sense, to me, for both roles to be filled by the same person. A matter of tidiness, if you will.”
“Seems simple.” Trevor said.
“Does it?” Alucard’s mouth curved into an almost smile. “If I told you I want you to sign yourself over to me completely and engage in a BDSM centered sexual relationship you would find that acceptable.”
At least he’d been right about the kink part. There had to be some kind of catch, didn’t there? Trevor looked at the window again. Snow had started to fall. “When you say sign myself over completely you mean-”
“I will, essentially, own you, as much as one person can own a person consensually. You’ll dress and conduct yourself as I desire when in my presence, fulfill the tasks I give you and, after a conversation about boundaries and comfort levels to set appropriate limits, agree to take part of any act I wish to engage in.” Alucard leaned forward, voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone as he tapped the stack of papers. “I have many things I’m...curious about, and I would like a partner willing to let me satisfy those curiosities. Paying for one seems less of a hassle than hoping to find that in a ‘real’ partner’.
“You’ll be very well compensated.” Was added almost like an afterthought, offhandedly and with little concern. “For example your background check showed you dropped out of college due to lack of funds. I’m willing to cover tuition and necessities for the duration of our arrangement, on top of a weekly stipend, the amount of which you’ll see on that page, access to a vehicle and expense account for larger purchases, within reason.”
Trevor swallowed hard and made himself smile, laugh mockingly, and push out “Seems like a boyfriend would be less expensive.” past clenched teeth. His heart was thumping hard in his chest and his stomach was a squirming mess. The weekly stipend being offered was there in black ink, almost mocking him with how plain it was amidst all the words, and it was...insane. Easily four times what he’d been making delivering pizzas on his best week, more than enough all on it’s own to make him willing to do just about anything. But under that were details about a car, an expense account with an upper limit that made him a little sick with the excess of it all, an arranged clothing allotment (for public appearances) and more. Going back to school, on someone else’s dime? Even if it was only for a semester or two that would put him most of the way to finishing his degree with the two years he’d already managed, and if he saved that ‘stipend’ he’d had no problem paying for his final year.
And all he had to do was let this guy fuck him and, what, spank him or tie him up or punch him in the face? He’d had lovers slap him in the face with no money exchanging hands, and with claims of him being an uncaring asshole on top of it; it was almost too easy to accept.
“You know I’m a Belmont, right?”
“Trevor Belmont, of the now disgraced House Belmont.” Alucard’s eyes slid away from Trevor towards the picture frame. “That’s part of your charm, Belmont. My father is Vlad Tepes-” Trevor’s mouth dropped open. “Ah. You’re aware our families have...history.”
That was something of an understatement.
“He’ll hate you, and that makes you perfect. The minute Hector confirmed that you were an actual Belmont I knew no one else would do.”
Trevor closed his mouth with an audible click. He wasn’t sure what to make of all that, aside from mentally slapping a big flashing Daddy Issues label on Alucard. He’d dated a few people who’d thought it was fun to date the last of an infamous, hated family but ditched him as soon as it became more stressful than fun, but no one had ever been quite so...enthusiastic about the prospect of pissing off their dad’s.
But hey, whatever worked.
“Guess I’m in then. Do I sign?”
“Ideally we’d make sure you’re truly fine with the physical elements of what I’m asking for, but if you’re confident you understand the terms-”
“I do.”
“Then we can stick to the major points and get started.” Alucard flipped back a few pages to what looked like a checklist. A very neat checklist, with a lot of columns, numbers, and boxes jammed tight with words. “You’re comfortable giving and receiving oral sex.”
“Of course.”
“Comfortable with anal sex, topping and bottoming?” Trevor nodded. “Bondage?” Nod. “Impact, sensory, and temperature play.” He wasn’t totally sure what all of that was but, context clues and all; he nodded again. “Service and behavior restriction? Domination?” Nod. Alucard looked down his nose at him for a long beat then looked down as he turned the page. “Toys and toy insertion, cumplay, and-.”
“How can you say all of that with a straight face?”
“It helps to not be a child about sex.” Trevor scoffed. Alucard rolled his eyes. “And orgasm denial.”
Trevor frowned slightly. That didn’t sound like fun at all but, hell, he was pretty sure he could handle not being able to get off every now and then. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten blue balls in his life.
“Okay.”
“Sign then.” Alucard sat back in his head. “I’ll sign after, and then we can move on to getting you moved in and adjusted to things before going over the checklist in deeper detail.”
Trevor signed his name, large and heavy handed, and nodded absently. “Whatever you say Alucard.”
“Adrian.” Alucard said. Trevor looked up questioningly. “Alucard is my professional name. You’ll be calling me Adrian, especially in front of my parents.”
“...you choose t o go by Alucard? Really?”
Alucard-Adrian- made a face that strongly suggested he was already having regrets. Pretty par for the course for those stupid enough to get involved with him, in Trevor's experience.
“Hector will take you back to where you’re staying to pick up your things and settle any debt.” Adrian said, clearly deciding to not acknowledge Trevor’s words. Trevor thought about his duffle bag and backpack taking up space in a locker at the train station, and bit back a sigh. Things. Right. “Unless you’d like more time before moving in.”
Trevor closed his eyes and pictured the bone deep chill that would come with sleeping outside tonight, and shook his head. “Tonight is fine.”