Little Boy Belmont (Richter x Olrox)

Chapter One: Dungeon

Richter lashes his leather whip, driving away the vampires as he and his friends fight for their lives in the dungeons. Then he heard that voice that paralyzed him all those years ago.

"Little boy Belmont," Olrox murmurs in that same voice that makes Richter freeze up. Trembling, he turns around to face the Aztec. He hears the sword in his hand clatter to the stone floor. Olrox doesn't attack, he reaches out to Richter, palm up, like he's inviting Belmont to a dance.

He had run out of the dungeon, screaming at the others that they have to leave, ditching his friends behind. He doesn't even know if they made it out alive.

Idiotic. He was idiotic and a coward. Fleeing for his life like he did when he was ten. But now? Olrox followed him. The sun has set low enough that the Aztec vampire can walk outside without harm.
Richter was tired, his leg muscles burning from the running he did. Even if he had the energy to use his whip, he's too shaken up to use it properly.

He faces Olrox, his blue eyes wide and sweat on his forehead. They're the same height now, Olrox no longer having to get on his knees to look Belmont in the eyes. He stands close enough to Richter that the vampire could touch him if he wanted. But no, Olrox doesn't attack him. He just...looks at him, like he still sees the frightened child Richter was.

"I can smell the sadness in you," Olrox notes, head tilted slightly, the charms on his ear jingling. "The grief, the loneliness. I know that feeling, Belmont."
"You're not here to kill me? You easily could," Richter gasps, still winded.
"No," Olrox actually sounds sad, walking forward. Belmont takes a step back, shaking. Olrox's hand on his cheek is warm. He blinks in disbelief.

He swears he can see tears in Olrox's emerald eyes, but it could be a trick of the light. "You're inexperienced, Belmont," the Aztec murmurs. "Sleep, I'll protect you now." Quick as a viper, Olrox presses a nerve in Richter's neck. He stiffens, his vision quickly darkening. As he slips under into unconsciousness, his brain barely registers Olrox's lips brushing his in a small kiss. Then everything goes dark.
****
'I'm dreaming,' his panicked mind repeats like a mantra. 'I'm dreaming. That's all this is. That's all it ever will be.' The scent of lavender and candle wax burning stirs him out of his slumber.

'Oh,' he thinks, his eyes glazed over as he stares at the figure looking into the fireplace of the room they're in. 'Tera and the others must be worried about me. Are they even alive? Will I ever see them again? Would they turn their backs on me if I showed my face around them?'

The doubtful thoughts and meekness lingers in his mind, swirling around like an annoying cloud, fogging up his senses. The pure fear doesn't register until his mother's killer turns to face him, his darker skin glowing from the firelight.

Breathing panicked, Richter scrambles away to the furthest corner of the bed. His wrist and ankles are bound with rope and he struggles. He pulls back so fast he smacks the back of his head on the wall behind him.

Richter cursed under his breath as his head rings in pain. "I'm not going to hurt you," Olrox murmurs, frowning, thin eyebrows knit together in concern. "I would never hurt you." 
"Is this some trick?" demands the young Belmont, always the hard headed one, even when tied up.

"This is no trick," Olrox replies smoothly, setting the book he was reading down on the table, next to Belmont's whip and throwing knives. Richter's eyes widen when he sees them. They seem so far away.

"You killed my mother," Richter trembles, whether that be from rage or terror, he can't tell which. "You took her from me when I was a child."
"I killed her because she killed my lover. I'm certain I remember telling you that," the Aztec reminds Belmont.

He's surprised to see genuine pain on Olrox's face, before it quickly subsides.
"You said you would kill me too, so why haven't you?" Richter demands.
Olrox remains silent, looking like he wants to explain but can't. Not yet.
"Tell me," this comes out almost as a plea. Against his better judgment, Richter feels tears burning in his eyes.

He stares at Olrox just like he did when he was a frightened child.
"Because you're important to me," is all Olrox answers with. Richter blinks, trying to comprehend this as his tears flow down.
The Aztec walks over and Richter scoots further back into the corner of the bed, trapped against the wall.

"Get away!" he yells, limbs straining against the ropes, his muscles cramping.
Once more, Olrox gently cups his cheeks, this time with both hands.
'He could snap my neck holding me like this,' his panicked brain screams at him, heart pounding hard. 'He could easily kill me. I have no whip, no magic. He could break my neck or bite me or—'

His mind doesn't register that Olrox is wiping his tears away with his fingers, the vampire's touch delicate. He clearly doesn't want to hurt Richter, but Belmont can't understand why. His blue eyes look into Olrox's piercing green ones. He sees that same sadness again that he saw at the lake.

Terror seizes Richter's heart when Olrox pulls out an obsidian knife. He closes his eyes, waiting to feel himself being stabbed. But that never happens. The sound of the rope being cut makes his eyes fly open in shock. The rope around his wrists and ankles falls limply on the bed.

He looks up to see Olrox placing the knife back on his waist, under his purple overcoat. Panting, he looks at Olrox in disbelief, feeling heat rising to his cheeks in what? Embarrassment? Anger? Offense? Flustered at being treated with affection?

He's always gotten affection from Maria and Tera, of course, but this is different. This feels more personal, not familial love, something ancient, something Richter can't quite understand. 
"Why?" is all he can sputter out.
"I worry for you. You remind me a lot of him, you know," he murmurs, head tilted to the side again.
"Like who?" he asks.
Olrox turns away, facing the fireplace again.
"The only other man I loved," he says simply, sadly.