Van Helsing Slash

[munnin]

Title: The Shadow of Wings
Pairing: Carl/Van Helsing
Rating: R
Disclaimer: No money. No ownership. Just enjoyment.
 

The journey had been long and taken its toll on both of them. Carl’s skin crawled with the dust of the road and Van Helsing could feel the heavy dull ache in his muscles that signalled exhaustion. Even the horses plodded along in lethargic steps.

 

Things had gone badly in the village. Van Helsing may have vanquished the demon plaguing them but the people of the parish had made it all too clear they wanted to see the back of the Hunter and his companion. They did their best to put as much distance between them and the accursed place.

 

“Van Helsing?” Carl called trying to urge his mount to catch up. “Perhaps we should make for the next town. Find somewhere to rest the horses. Perhaps there’s a church we can rest in for the night…” and wash Carl thought bitterly.

 

“No.” Van Helsing said firmly. Carl hung his head in disappointment but his friend clasped him warmly by the shoulder. “We find an inn. With a bath.”

 

The inn was small but clean and well kept. The owners clearly grateful for the business tripped over themselves to offer the best for their guests, providing them with separate rooms. Each with a bath. The bath was a large metal tub just deep enough to sit in. Carl revelled in the warm clean water scrubbing every inch of his road-worn hide.

 

Dirt free and deeply pleased with the universe, Carl went looking for Van Helsing. The door to the Hunter’s room was ajar and Carl padded in without thinking. Van Helsing sat cross-legged in the tub, unusually with his back to the open door. A true hunter by nature Van Helsing never seemed comfortable with his back to an open space. Perhaps he’s getting use to having me around. Carl thought smiling. He trusts me to watch his back.

 

A back, which Carl noticed with pleasure, was particularly fine. Carl had never felt shame in admiring beauty where he saw it and he saw it in his friend always. In Van Helsing’s grace and power. In his kindness and in his wrath. Of course all God’s creations were to be admiring and appreciated. And Carl found Van Helsing’s back well worth of such admiration. Well toned muscles and beautifully tanned. Even the fine network of scars only added to the splendour of his skin.

 

Van Helsing rolled his shoulder and groaned. He could feel the knots of cramping sinew that had once been his back. He forced himself to stretch, hoping to shake the tension.

 

As Van Helsing stretched and flexed in the candlelight, Carl noticed of the first time two long scars running down the Hunter’s back. Broad and ragged Carl wondered how he had never seen them before. True there had been few times when they had been shirtless round each other but the scars drew Carl in a way he couldn’t explain. Entranced by need to touch he reached out a hand to feel them, brushing his fingers down the raised marks as one might stroke the petal of a rose.

 

Carl found himself pinned to the ground by a naked, wet and powerful Van Helsing. His eyes full of startled rage. Note to self, thought Carl trying not to move, treat Van Helsing like an unstable chemical – no loud noises or sudden moves. Without thinking he closed his eyes and mumbled a quick prayer of thankfulness – if Van Helsing hadn’t been in the bath; he might have been armed.

 

Van Helsing stared down at his attacker, seeing Carl for the first time as instincts gave way to thought. The little friar was sopping wet from the spilt bath and praying. Oh God! He thought franticly. He thinks I’d kill him. He reached to brush the damp blond wings away from Carl’s face. “It’s alright Carl. Open your eyes.”

 

Carl did and smiled at him sheepishly. “I’m so sorry Van Helsing. I really didn’t mean to startle you. I was just coming to see if you were ready for some dinner. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

 

Carl’s stream of chatter made Van Helsing smile as he got up. The little friar seemed so unconcerned by how near he’d come to danger. It was hardly Carl’s fault after all. He was not to know. The Hunter hurriedly dried himself and was pulling on pants when he felt Carl’s presence behind him again. He almost laughed when he realised the friar was making a point of stomping loudly on the wooden floor as he walked.

 

Carl laid his hand firmly on his friend’s shoulder, giving the Hunter fair warning he was there this time. “How long have you had these scars Van Helsing?”

 

It felt strange to have Carl touch him. So gentle and unafraid. Carl ran his fingers down Van Helsing’s back, tracing the outline of the scars. “Seven years. According to Brother Mark I was bleeding badly from the cuts when I was found.” He shuddered under the friar’s touch.

 

Carl could feel the Hunter tremble under his hand. “Does it hurt?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

 

Van Helsing shook his head. “Just…tender.” The skin around the scars was suddenly very sensitive and the sensualness of Carl’s fingers rocked him to the core.

 

“After seven years? Well that’s strange. Do you remember what caused them?” Carl asked gently pulling at the skin either side of the scars, stretching them taut to examine.

 

Van Helsing sighed. “Only in my nightmares.”

 

Carl squeezed his shoulder gently; his hands warm on the Hunter’s damp skin. He knew full well how terrible Van Helsing’s nightmares could be. On a bad night the Hunter came down to the lab to watch Carl work. He rarely wanted to talk about the dreams and it seemed to Carl that his friend simply needed to be where there was light and people. To shake off the strangeness of the visions. Carl treasured these moments. It warmed his heart to know his company help lift some of Van Helsing’s heavy load. “Can you tell me?” he asked quietly.

 

“I don’t remember much really. Just images.” Carl nodded for him to go on. “A light so bright it cast no shadow. The feeling of skin being torn from my back and the sensation of falling.”

 

Carl hmmed an acknowledgement. The tickle of the little friar’s breath on his hypersensitive skin made his head spin and he bit back a moan as Carl traced the shape of his shoulder blades with his hands. The brush of the friar’s soft hair against his skin was too much and he collapsed to his knees.

 

Carl, off balance fell with him but recovered quickly. “Are you alright? What’s wrong? Have I hurt you?” Kneeling beside his friend, he tilted the Hunter’s face to meet his. Van Helsing’s skin burned and his breath came in starts. “Van Helsing! What’s happened?”

 

“I’m alright Carl.” Van Helsing fought to get himself back under control.  

 

“No you’re not. You can barely breathe. What is it?” He ran his hands over his friend’s body desperately searching for the cause of Van Helsing’s discomfort. The Hunter moaned and bucked as Carl’s hands brushed low on his stomach.

 

Carl felt Van Helsing’s convulsion to his touch and enlightenment dawned. He glanced down at the Hunter’s groin, his erection straining against his pants.

 

Van Helsing followed Carl’s stare and pulled away in shock and shame. Oh God. What would Carl think of him? He lunged to grab his coat and run but Carl, still kneeling on the floor blocked his way. The little friar’s head was cocked in curiosity and interest.

 

Carl got slowly to his feet. “Are the scars that sensitive?” he asked slowly, his gaze never leaving the Hunter.

 

Van Helsing nodded, eyes lowered in embarrassment. “Forgive me Carl.” He stepped around his friend but a warm hand on his chest arrested his flight.

 

Carl ran his fingers through the patch of hair on Van Helsing’s chest, marvelling in its softness. He had longed for so many years now to touch his friend, to share in his strength, his warmth. He stepped closer to the Hunter, running his free hand down Van Helsing’s arm and side. He brushed his lips ever so lightly against the Hunter’s throat. “There is no need for forgiveness.” 

 

The feeling of Carl’s caressing hands on his sensitised skin sent ripples all over his body. The Hunter staggered backwards and landed heavily on the bed. Carl bent to turn Van Helsing’s face up to meet his. Carl’s lips possessed him, the kiss both sweet and passionate. “Please Carl…don’t…” but the friar’s warm mouth silenced him. He couldn’t focus, waves of euphoria crashed over him obscuring his senses as Carl’s hand returned to his back, brushing the very tips of his fingers over the raised skin of his scars. Van Helsing finally managed to compose himself long enough to grab Carl’s wrists and pull them away. “Please Carl. Stop.”

 

“You don’t…enjoy this?” The friar asked suddenly worried. Had he misread his friend’s need? Had he let his own desire overcome him and cloud his judgement? Feeling rejection and disappointment rise in his throat he reached out to touch Van Helsing, running his hand through the long dark hair.

 

Van Helsing shuddered and shoved Carl away a little harder than he planned. “Yes I do but you…” he trailed off trying to work out the best way to explain himself.

 

Carl’s face clouded with hurt and bewilderment. “But you don’t want me. I understand. I’m sorry I disturbed you” He tried to pull away but Van Helsing held him tight.

 

“Damn it Carl! That’s not it at all. Of course I want you! How could anyone not.” He pulled the little friar close, his voice lowered. “I just need to know you want this too. That you’re not just doing this for me.”

 

Carl smiled and cupped his face lovingly. “Yes I want this. With all my heart. I just never dared to hope you would too.” He trailed warm kisses down the Hunter’s cheek and throat, sliding one hand round to caress the marred skin of Van Helsing’s back.  

 

Carl’s touch drew long low moans from the Hunter. He roared in need and dragged the friar’s face to meet his, claiming Carl’s mouth and tangling his hands in the blond hair. He ran his hands down Carl’s back, drawing the friar in close. They fell together onto the bed. Carl was quick to straddle the Hunter, trailing wet, open mouth kisses down Van Helsing’s chest. He reached the Hunter’s dark brown nipples, hard and smooth under his lips.

 

Van Helsing groaned and bucked as Carl’s lips explored his chest. He grabbed the friar’s hips and ground against him, desperate in his need. Carl released Van Helsing’s nipple with a playful squeeze and smiled. The Hunter grabbed at Carl’s robe, trying in vain to find skin. The sudden movement caught Carl off balance again and sent him tumbling across the bed. The Hunter pounced, impatient and needy, he pawed at the heavy layers of wool.

 

Carl laughed warmly. “Let me.” Pushing Van Helsing’s weight off him he clambered off the bed, shedding robe and trousers.

 

Van Helsing propped himself up on his elbows to admire the friar’s naked form. Pale and smooth, Carl’s body was lightly toned and lean. His perfection stole Van Helsing’s breath away. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

 

Carl smiled that stunning smile and reached out to unlace the Hunter’s pants. The feeling of those nimble fingers so close to his groin made him whimper with need. He lifted his hips to allowed Carl to strip him, his swollen member leaping free from its confines.   

 

Carl admired at the sight of Van Helsing, Naked and magnificent! Almost unconsciously he reached out to stroke the trail of dark hair that lead down the Hunter’s stomach and wind his fingers through the mass of soft curls.

 

Van Helsing moaned long and low as the friar’s fingers and then tongue explored him. Carl, hesitant at first gave the Hunter’s member a gentle lick, marvelling at the way it jumped at his touch.

 

Van Helsing bit back a scream as Carl accepted him into his mouth. He tangled his hands in the friar’s hair as Carl tease playfully, gliding his tongue along the Hunter’s shaft. A little more sure of himself now and encouraged by Van Helsing’s moan, he started to slide his lips slowly up and down the Hunter’s length, grazing his teeth gently along the vein.

 

“Carl! Please!” He felt his release building and hauled the friar up level with him. He captured Carl’s lips, tongues dancing against each other. “Please...I want…”

 

Carl let the powerful arms lift him and moaned into Van Helsing’s mouth as their bodies touched and rubbed. He could feel the Hunter shuddering and burning in his arms and knew he wasn’t far behind. He understood at once what Van Helsing was asking and scrambled without a second thought to rummage through Van Helsing’s pack.

 

Van Helsing panicked when Carl jumped off the bed. Was Carl leaving? Had he gone too far? But Carl was back and in his hands was the fine vial of flax oil he used to grease the tojos. “Carl…I…” but Carl silenced him with a kiss and stretched out, welcoming the Hunter’s touch.

 

Van Helsing wasted no time coating a finger liberality in oil and gently pressed into the little friar. Carl moaned and bit his lip, forcing himself to relax. After a few minutes of careful preparation Carl was moaning with need, lifting his hips to meet Van Helsing’s touch. “Please Gabriel. I need you!”

 

Van Helsing released him and rolled over, pulling Carl on top to straddle him as before. Carl took the hint that the Hunter wanted him in control and positioned himself carefully. Feeling the Van Helsing’s leaking member against his entrance, he eased himself down slowly.

 

Van Helsing moaned as Carl lowered himself on to his cock, tight and hot around him. He gripped the friar’s hips tight, trying his hardest not to take Carl any faster or farther than he felt comfortable. Van Helsing shuddered as Carl pushed down, feeling himself sheathed in the friar’s channel.

 

Carl gasped as Van Helsing’s fingers tightened round his slender hips, fighting to restrain himself. Carl pried the Hunter’s hands free, entwining them in his own and pressing them to the bed as he bent to trail kissed down Van Helsing’s neck and chest. He rocked back, impaling himself completely on the Hunter’s length.

 

Slow at first but building to a steady rhythm, Van Helsing felt himself driven to the edge by the sight and sensation of the little friar, eyes closed in ecstasy, thrusting himself on the Hunter’s cock. Feeling his orgasm building, painfully urgent and inescapable as a sneeze he grabbed Carl’s hips and drove himself deep. Screaming Carl’s name as he came, echoed by his own name as it fell from the friar’s lips, breathless and urgent as he too released.

 

They laid together, spiralling down and basking in the warmth of each other. Carl snuggled against his chest, tracing lazy circles over his skin, sending shudders like aftershocks through Van Helsing’s body. He chuckled, gathering the friar’s hands in his own and kissing them softly. “Who would have thought old scars would make me feel like this?”

 

“Course they would.” Carl muttered sleepily in his arms. “After all; they’re where your wings use to be.”

 

Comments

[iantoislove.livejournal.com]

“Damn it Carl! That’s not it at all. Of course I want you! How could anyone not.” Truer words were never spoken. ;)

It's not so easy to come across VH fics and this was a great one!