Work Text:
It had been a long day, a long week, and Lorrimer Van Helsing was tired.
He was relieved to have made it home with only a few hours work left ahead of him- the last push before a break in the semester. Spring Break was a nice lull for the students, but Lorrimer's work as a professor was never quite done- papers, tests, essays. But he'd resigned himself to this fate out of the passion for his material- much like everyone else that carried the Van Helsing name had.
The day passed, and before long the house had fallen silent into the late hours of the night. He hadn't heard his granddaughter Jessica come home, hoping the coming morning's breakfast would fare better for catching up with her.
Other than the ticking of a wayside clock and the occassional shifting of papers, Lorrimer fell into concentration as the house remained still.
---
Hours later, he shook his head and came out of his stupor. Looking up, he rubbed his eyes to read the time on his desk clock- 3AM. Even the late jaunts Jessica liked to go on never went on this long. At this hour, he was the only one awake.
He preferred nights, the quiet of the endless hours made it easier for him to fall into a trance of pen pushing, reviewing, and correcting until the sun's rays crept through the office window. Despite his level of productivity this week, it had been endless and he needed to unwind.
Glancing at his desk drawer, he remembered a strange item Jessica had given him a few days ago.
"What is this?"
"I'm telling you, grandfather! Society's on the verge of a revolution."
Jessica reached into her day bag and pulled out a strange device- a long corded rod, with a switch and soft silicone head. It resembled some the antique devices his own grandfather had used in his line of work.
"'The Workout'?" Lorrimer asked. He turned it over in his hands, confused. "Is this a fad women's workout routine?"
"It's for your health, grandfather! I worry about you, you know? You're always so stressed."
"And how is this supposed to help me?"
"I think you'll know what to do when the time comes." She said, leaving it in his hands as she kissed his cheek goodbye.
She was a good kid, if a bit unpredictable. Just like her mother.
Fishing the device from the desk drawer, he turned it over again as he made his way to a leather couch in the connecting room. The couch was handy for nights like these, when he was far too tired to climb the stairs to his room. Settling in for a few minutes of peace, he plugged the machine in before holding it up to his shoulder blade, thumb slipping as he hit what he thought was the ON switch.
"AAAH"
The alarming, sudden "BUZZ" barely did anything to mask the yelp he made in the dead of night.
He swore he'd have a heart attack or pass out before managing to fumble the HIGH switch off successfully. Lord help him if he had to explain his yelling to Jessica in the morning.
Muffling himself, he held his breath as he tried again, careful to flip the wand's LOW setting this time.
With a duller rumble, he began to work his neck muscles, relaxing and melting into the couch as the wand hummed. His mind began to wander.
From papers, to class chatter he'd overheard the other day- he remembered overhearing how women were now seizing liberations into their own hands, creating their own pleasures with new hand held massagers. M uch like the one he was holding now.
It couldn't have felt that good... Right?
With no one around to witness, Lorrimer held his breath and glanced around nervously. Perhaps it was a mainstay of the era he'd grown up in, but he'd been raised to feel any kind of self enjoyment was unwarranted. The office remained still and the large window looming above him remained nothing but a dark sky.
Exhaling, he shakily held the wand to his groin.
The thrum was more comforting this time- almost like the purring of a cat. The hum against the fabric of his pants was exciting- but t he friction was too much.
He needed something... smoother.
Reluctantly rising, he hobbled back over to his desk and fumbled through the drawer, looking for anything that would ease the chafe and rattling of the wand. Satisfied with a small tube of hand moisturizer he'd found under a stack of papers and an old pen that had exploded, he returned to the couch.
Releasing himself from his trousers, he applied the moisturizer with his free hand, stroking slowly. His breath huffed as he lied back to enjoy the new sensation.
Stretching, he leaned his head back and nuzzled against the armrest. The moisturizer allowed the wand to glide effortlessly over his length, amplifying its rumble all over. Slowly moving it down, he gently massaged his sac before leaving it to rest under his shaft. The vibrations clouded his thoughts and short, quiet huffs became pleased sighs.
Head light, and eyes fluttering, his gaze drifted over to a piece of art on the far side of the wall.
It was a portrait, a ghastly figure snarling in an ornate gold frame. At the bottom was inscribed a signature- "Lawrence Van Helsing".
With scratchy linework, harsh blacks, and haphazard hatching, the drawing did nothing to highlight any flattering sides of Lawrence's enemy, Dracula.
Not that he might've had any.
Jessica tapped the portrait with her finger.
"Why are you holding onto this ugly thing, still? 'Been giving me the creeps, ever since I was a girl."
"Jessica..." Lorrimer began, rising from his desk.
"It was hard enough" she continued, "having to see AND smell that monster in real life."
He walked over, joining her in front of the portrait.
"I know it's absurd. But you see, this portrait has been in our family for generations." He looked up in time to catch her mid eye-roll.
"Yeah yeah, another lecture, right?"
"No, Jessica."
"Well then?"
"When I look at this portrait... I think about everything. Everything your mother and I fought for." He turned to her, softening.
"I think about you."
Even as the hideous visage grimaced down at him, Lorrimer was unable to bring himself to throw out a piece of his family's legacy. The ugly portrait stayed. He looked away.
It was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about right now.
Motor continuing, his face grew warm as he covered it to contain any small "mmms" managing to escape from between his fingers.
Lifting and adjusting his legs, he moved his hands to position the wand to sit flush between his sac and where he lied on the couch. The vibrations bouncing off not only the seat, but also his own body and the material of his trousers made his head thrum pleasantly. Relaxing backwards, he gyrated his hips until he was comfortable. With his hands now free, he closed his eyes and began to gently paw at his throat.
Drawing in a slow breath, he lightly gripped under his jaw with thumb and forefinger, careful not to place too much pressure on his neck. He thought back to the medical texts he'd read in his collection. The carotid arteries were one of the most delicate in the human body- carrying blood to the brain, they performed a vital function. He had to be safe at all times.
Eyes flickering open, he locked gaze with the portrait across the office again.
It had only been a year, but the altercation he'd had with Dracula and his minions remained fresh in his mind. Keeping a light grip on his neck, the scar on his arm pulsed as his right hand brushed against it. It had been too close of a call for him.
His hand moved away and trailed lower and lower, tracing down his body until it reached his half-stiffened length.
Fingers dipping down, he sighed pleasantly as he gently dug in and began to fondle himself.
Lorrimer wasn't sturdy and limber in his old age. He'd be at the mercy of many younger, stronger vampires now. Thinking back to his battle with Dracula, his face flushed as he remembered the strong hands he'd felt on him briefly.
To be touched so by someone that strong again...
BUZZ...
His cock twitched as the heat began to pool downwards. Yes, that was it.
Few men rivaled Lorrimer in height, but even the years he's spent studying his grandfather's texts hadn't prepared him for how intimidating it was to experience Dracula in the flesh.
Perhaps it was a primal feeling, but deep, deep inside...
Lorrimer was excited to be overpowered.
The sensitivity and effeminacy he'd repressed his whole life- to impress his father, or the strength he'd bear for his family... Would it be too much to be allowed to fail, to be weak, just once?
He wanted to feel the rush of being frisked, thrown, treated that way again. Strong hands having their way with his weak body.
A spike of arousal traveled straight to his groin.
Yes.
His grip increased, picking up speed as he stroked.
During their last bout, Lorrimer had nearly lost the grip he had on the silver knife he carried. It was a blessing he could even summon the strength he needed to penetrate Dracula's heart with it. With an arm injured, he was at a disadvantage. He'd been fortunate Dracula didn't seem to notice or care, knocking the knife away and sending it clattering to the floor.
But how he'd secretely wanted Dracula to rush him, pin him against the wall, rip off his sleeve, leave him unable to do anything but struggle against Dracula's absurd strength. How badly Lorrimer wanted to be chastised as he tried to break free.
Look at you struggle. You're pathetic.
You can't even protect your granddaughter, much less yourself.
You're no match.
Cock flushed red, he was fully erect, quietly huffing as the strokes continued.
Dracula leaned down, tongue oozing out of his hideously wide mouth as it trailed up Lorrimer's arm and followed the smear of blood from a cut that had been reopened.
Gently placing pressure over the wound, he gauged its severity. Seemingly satisfied, it swirled slowly, coating every bare inch it had in Van Helsing blood. The tiny, hair-like papillae coating his tongue scraped Lorrimer's skin as he licked, reveling in the taste and the sounds Lorrimer tried his best to stifle.
Drawing back, Lorrimer missed the rough brush of the tongue- why had it stopped tickling, taunting, tenderizing his skin?
Looking Lorrimer straight in the eyes, the long tongue crept back into Dracula's mouth. Eyes glazed over with a red tint, he purred.
"Kind of you to leave a vein open for me."
The deep voice reverberated througout Lorrimer's head, scattering his thoughts and relaxing every muscle he had tensed being slammed against the wall. It was... lovely. He wouldn't have to worry, overthink, stress about anything. Maybe he'd allow his mind to drift away. Maybe just this once.
Yes, this was how it was supposed to be. I'm completely at his mercy. I'm in my place. I want to do what he tells me to.
"Please Dracula, take me in her place. Let me be your bride."
Maybe he was selfish. Or maybe he couldn't bear his family being taken away from him.
Not again.
Better Dracula take an old man than his granddaughter, who's whole life was ahead of her. The Van Helsing legacy could die with Jessica as she took her partner's name and Lorrimer would be thrilled- she would remain safe, her family unaware of the forces that conspired against their kind.
Jessica was a grown woman, and she had no marked interest in taking up the mantle. That was her choice, her right. Lorrimer just wanted to see her happy. Society didn't need relics like him.
Frankly, it had been on a downward slide for years. Part of him often wondered if humanity was even worth saving anymore.
BUZZ...
Lorrimer shifted, spreading his legs for easier access. Dazed, he continued pumping, cock slickened from his own excitement. Just a little more...
Would he be nuzzled by that sweet, long face? Would he be treated tenderly?
He wasn't supposed to be fantasizing about being ravished by a monster, his sworn enemy.
"You would give yourself to me?"
"Yes, yes- anything you'd like. Please," he choked out.
"Entirely, as one flesh, until the end of time?"
Dracula's smile slowly formed, revealing his charmingly crooked white teeth.
"You'll be a fine bride yet, Van Helsing."
The words were clear in his mind.
Dracula's sharp teeth moved in and grazed Lorrimer. Hot breath warmed his neck as long claws prickled against the skin, trailing slowly down-
Jolting, he realized what he had been thinking.
No, no! How could he feel this way? Generations of Helsings had dedicated and lost their lives fighting this creature- this beast! It wasn't right! He shouldn't have wanted this- not with their history, not for his family, not with his line of work- not EVER.
The grasp on his throat tightened slightly. He couldn't get carried away holding his throat. It was dangerous.
And he had to live to see Dracula again.
BUZZ...
Mouth falling open, Lorrimer panted, bucking into his hands. He was close. He was so close.
You are a Van Helsing, aren't you?
He remembered luring Dracula to his pit trap that night, driving his shovel in, further and further until the blood pooled around Dracula's body. Breath driven out of him, somehow he was still able to speak.
"Yes," he coughed. "Drive it deeper."
A flush stirred within Lorrimer, a heat he hated to feel even now, as he remembered watching his pathetic, dying, enemy writhe in the dirt pit.
He hadn't felt an intimate touch since his wife passed many, many years ago- but he cherished the memories of their time together. Utterly devoted and willing to please his wife however she liked, he was helpless to her strength.
And nothing made him more helpless than having his neck nibbled and teased by her expert touches.
Smiling weakly, Dracula pleaded to be released.
"Harder, Lorrimer. Harder." He'd sounded just like her.
Lorrimer's face had twisted in disgust. Dracula was taunting him to make him falter, to make him lose his resolve... right?
You were excited though, weren't you?
BUZZ...
Turning his head away, Lorrimer's hands moved from his throat and covered his eyes, ashamed at where this line of thought had taken him.
He had no choice! He HAD to punish Dracula for the audacity he had to taunt him like that- like her.
Pleased by Lorrimer's horror, the ache of pain that washed over him signaled the sweet release of another death, and Dracula shuddered as the last of that particular lifetime left him.
Hell, maybe Lorrimer even enjoyed driving the stake in as far as he could.
BUZZ...
He couldn't bear it any longer. The motor in the wand grew hot. Hands slick and pumping feverish, his cock reached its limit.
You're a twisted man, Van Helsing. What would your family think if they knew?
The wrongness, the sound of his breath, the unforgiving pounding of the wand- it became too much to bear as he was pushed over the edge.
That's it, Lorrimer. Cry for me.
Straining a whine, he came, convulsing as the climax pulsed through him.
Riding the pleasure, he teased the wand up and down the length of his shaft as he coaxed every last bit from his testes onto his hand. The reality who he was, of what he was supposed to be paled in comparison to the freedom he felt.
If only Dracula had been the one to give him this pleasure.
His breath steadied as he came back down, eyes focusing back on the portrait. The shame of what he'd done hit him immediately.
Flipping the switch off the wand, Lorrimer lay his head back and gave a few lazy tugs as he milked the last remaining droplets out of himself. His chest heaved, sighing as he did his best to regain thought. Clarity slowly returned.
Looking up, he could only feel as though Dracula himself were jeering, mocking, taunting his lack of self control, and selfish inner desires.
He'd seen enough of the portrait for one evening. Rising to clean up, Lorrimer muttered under his breath.
"I must rid myself of that wretched thing."
---
Leaving the office, Lorrimer stopped as he saw a shadow dart away from the back window. The strange glint of white gave him pause before he switched the light off and closed the door to his office behind him.
Just the reflection of a car passing by, he reasoned to himself.