Work Text:
By the time they shed their wolf skins, it's storming in earnest—steady, pounding droplets that streak the blood from their bodies and muddy the ground, rendering the already treacherous trail back up to the castle almost impassible.
Exhilarating.
Jonathan leads the way, trotting a couple of lengths ahead—but when he slips, in an instant Dracula catches him. Nimbly. Neatly lifting Jonathan off the ground – kissing him with ample tooth, tasting of rain – before setting him down again.
It takes Jonathan a moment to recover.
Then he smiles: fancy that, but he should manipulate the night’s weather more often.