M rated, in case you've got this far without noticing. Slash.

So I'm not sure if it makes me feel more or less sleazy that I wasn't planning to post this... You can blame redrachxo for it making it to the internet. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Hoo boy is that show not mine.

Bertrand shivered as the fangcuffs clicked into place around his wrists, Vlad tugging at the chain to make sure they held. He flexed his fingers; the cuffs were tight, but not uncomfortably so. He supposed he should be thankful for small mercies. Still, he was sitting on a chair, hands cuffed behind his back, and his powers were neutralised. Oh, and now Vlad was locking his ankles to the legs of the chair with ordinary handcuffs.

He had expected this, if he was honest, when he had disobeyed Vlad's orders. He'd expected it when he kidnapped Erin, and honestly it was just a surprise that it had taken this long for Vlad to decide he needed restraining. He wondered what his punishment would be.

The Chosen One circled him slowly, trailing a finger along his jawline as he went, lifting Bertrand's chin as he passed behind him so that he was forced to tilt his head right backwards, exposing his throat. Vlad chuckled darkly and moved to stand in front of his captive.
"You really do have neck issues, don't you Bertrand?" His tutor closed his eyes for a moment, fighting down the fear before defiantly shaking his head. "Let's see what you do want me touching."

Bertrand did his best not to struggle against the cuffs as Vlad carefully unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the fabric away to expose his chest. It was scarred, Bertrand knew, from years of battles and being used as a human – well, vampire – shield. Still, there wasn't the faintest hint of revulsion on Vlad's face as he ran his hands over the damaged skin and toned muscles, and Bertrand had to bite back his hiss of pleasure.
"Mm, not bad. But not why we're here, would you agree, Bertrand?"

Before he could reply, Vlad's hands were working at the fastening of his trousers, pushing aside every layer of fabric between the Chosen One and what he sought. As his hand wrapped around his tutor's sensitive flesh, Bertrand writhed helplessly against the cuffs, a tiny whimper escaping him.
"Oh, Bertrand, what did we say about noise? Noise gets you in trouble. It could get you bitten." Vlad's tone was all concern, like a cat warning a mouse about getting its tail caught in its claws… and then he smirked. "And trust me, you don't want my fangs involved right now." Then he lowered his head into Bertrand's lap and began to work on making his tutor see stars.

Bertrand pressed his lips tightly together, his entire body shaking with the effort of not crying out. He didn't want Vlad to stop, he didn't want to break the rules… he strained and squirmed, hips rocking restlessly, until Vlad made a brief noise of alarm that stopped him in his tracks. He clenched his fists, but remaining still and quiet while Vlad was doing such deliciously, sinfully pleasurable things to him turned out to be too much to ask, even of someone with Bertrand's strong willpower.
"Vlad, oh blood, oh fog-" Vlad looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, but he didn't stop, and Bertrand could feel himself losing control, losing his grip on everything. He didn't know where he was right now, he didn't know the year or what vintage they'd drank at dinner last night, he couldn't tell you his hopes, his ambitions, even his fears were melting away…
"Fog, Vlad, bite me." Vlad pulled back, surprised, and Bertrand made a low keening sound of need. "Please, Vlad, fog-"
"Are you sure?" The Chosen One peered up at him doubtfully.
"You want to, I'm chained up, what better chance will you get just oh blood please-"

Vlad stood, straddled his tutor, sank his fangs into his neck without further ado. Bertrand thrashed against the chains, too many sensations coursing through him all at once. Vlad's arm came round to cradle his tutor's head as he arched his body backwards, giving Vlad better access to his neck, and the Chosen One's other hand slipped down to continue what he'd started earlier. Bertrand moaned and writhed and gritted his teeth, but Vlad was determined to bring him over the edge and it wasn't going to take much more. The younger vampire pulled away from his neck, swiping his tongue over the marks he'd left, and murmured into his tutor's ear.
"Isn't it about time you came screaming my name?" Bertrand's body convulsed, he couldn't control it, and that terrified him more than he'd like to admit but it felt so good.
"Vlad-" The boy picked up on the note of fear in the whimper and leant in close, whispering reassuring nothings as his hand continued to move. "Vlad, Vlad!" He went to pieces, dimly aware of Vlad's lips caressing his neck again, of his movements slowing, of the cuffs being undone.

He slumped in the chair, recovering, and the Chosen One moved to murmur in his ear.
"Good boy. But you've ruined my clothes." Bertrand opened his eyes to see that the boy had a point. He was on the verge of apologising when he had a better idea. His voice was barely more than a growl as he spoke, hardly believing his daring.
"Then take them off."