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Nandor was drunk. In fact, that was an understatement. Nandor was plastered. Nandor got himself inebriated after they had gone out that night in search of fresh virgin blood. They found said virgin blood at a high school blowout, with cheap liquor and poor decisions ripe in the air. Guillermo remembers the glint of excitement that crossed Nandor’s facial features as they’d entered the house. Good Guillermo thought, I was really getting cold.
The human tried his best to stick with Nandor, to no avail. Guillermo had turned around once, and the 750 year old vampire manchild was gone. So he waited. Guillermo tried to relax on the couches in the main area of the house with a drink of cheap vodka in hand. Though failing miserably, as the couple to his right was snogging so aggressively that they knocked the cup straight from Guillermo’s grasp, directly onto his pants.
It had looked like he’d pissed himself, and given that he was in a room full of high schoolers, that was akin to bleeding near a shiver of Great Whites. Some of them were already looking, snickering and gesturing towards him. Guillermo quickly fled the party, weaving through the mass of sweaty, horny teenagers, bursting out of the front door to his perceived safety.
His reprieve was short lived, though, as a large and strong hand clapped itself firmly onto his shoulder, and pulled, knocking the smaller human off balance. Guillermo stumbled backward into a solid surface, firm but not hard, before realizing said surface was Nandor’s chest.
“Guilleerrmooo….” Nandor slurred breathily, injecting the rank smell of iron and gore into Guillermo’s face from behind. The smaller human wrinkled his nose, attempting to wriggle out of Nandor’s impressive grip.
“I’ve been looking for you.” The hand slid down his shoulder and arm, landing on his waist, while his other free hand squeezed his hip. If Guillermo hadn’t stopped fidgeting from the strength of his grip, the location of his hands would’ve been enough to freeze the human in his tracks.
“You left me all alone…” He whined pathetically, planting his chin on the smaller human’s shoulder, draping himself onto his familiar. If Nandor’s frame didn’t give indication enough, the vampire warlord was fucking heavy. To make matters worse, his grip was slackening on Guillermo’s shoulder, his body going steadily limp. Guillermo instantly noticed, if conscious Nandor was heavy, then Nandor as dead weight would be even heavier…
“Nandor--!” Guillermo yelped, panicked, as the larger man went almost entirely slack on his back. In the moments before Nandor’s full weight bore down on him, Guillermo shifted the weight off his back, spinning around to catch the drunken vampire in his chest. The effect of Nandor’s full weight on a different spot still didn’t change the outcome, he realized as he caught the vampire in his arms. Nandor’s knees buckled as Guillermo caught him. Guillermo’s small stature worked against him, as the top-heavy vampire caused them both to topple to the ground.
As Guillermo stumbled backwards, he tumbled onto his ass with painful force. The rest of his body quickly followed suit, his head slamming against the ground, meeting with a small, hard patch of ground, knocking him out instantly.
The commotion only managed to jostle Nandor awake, however. The vampire groaned, reluctant to leave the soft surface he currently rested on, and buried his head deeper against it. Until he realized that softness was something that smelled awfully like someone he knew…
Guillermo?
He raised his head off the soft surface, and to his bewilderment, his head had been resting against the softness of his familiar’s chest. Nandor could suddenly smell blood, the sickly sweet smell permeating the air around his human like a beacon. With a start, the vampire noticed a delicate trickle of blood from his nose, snaking a carmine smile across his cheek. With remarkable restraint, Nandor gently swept up the blood from his familiar’s upper lip and cheek with his thumb, quickly discarding it by rubbing the contents on his cloak.
His head felt oddly clear, despite all the drunk people he’d just eaten, and so he gently lifted his small familiar off the ground, a firm grip under his thighs and around his neck and shoulders, his head cradled against the crook of Nandor’s neck, feet dangling.
Slowly, Nandor walked through the crowd of rowdy, horny mid-sized humans, a couple of them making the whistle noises with their mouths, telling him to “Get it!” to the vampire’s chagrin. The phrase confused him: He did not know what he would be receiving from Guillermo when he was in this limp useless state. Instead of trying to understand their meaning, Nandor opted for hissing at them, eyes turning a golden shade of ocre. After that, the crowd silently parted, the humans subconsciously sensing a predator in their midst. Nandor happily walked through the space made for him, charging home.
*****
“W-where’s Guillermo?” Nandor whined, slurring his words and tripping over his feet.
“I say Nandor? That’s not Gizmo, that’s the Stairmaster: The Master of the Stairs!” Laszlo was clinging to Nadja: who fared no better than either of them, and currently had blood smeared on her face, wearing a baseball cap backwards.
Nandor clung to the Not-Guillermo-Stairmaster-Master-of-the-Stairs for stability, scanning the room for his sneaky human. He must be around here somewhere...the rascal!
“Guieerrmo!” He slurred loudly, calling for his familiar helplessly. Soon, a bespectacled, short figure peeked their head around the corner of the attic, like a scared bunny rabbit emerging from its hiding spot.
Guillermo stood in front of him, looking thoroughly shaken. The smaller man offered his arm to the large vampire, opting not to question why Nandor was mumbling about him being a scared bunny...
Nandor clamped a giant hand around the proffered arm, pulling Guillermo closer.
` Guillermo thought back to that moment many years ago, at the party they attended together to find virgins. It had happened almost just like this. However, instead of butterflies in his stomach, now he could only feel apprehension: if Nandor took him out with the sheer force of his weight, there was no telling what stupid, drugged things he would do if Guillermo got knocked out again--
Nandor was rubbing Guillermo’s shoulder absentmindedly, his hand grazing the patch of his neck uncovered by shirt collar. Guillermo quickly realized that Nandor was doing this with both of his hands, and--Dios mio--this was the most physical contact he’d had in years. Guillermo was mesmerized, his breath hitching. The illusion broke once Nandor opened his mouth:
“Where were you! The Baron got turned into the crispy vampire bacon and it was very scary!” Nandor was gripping his shoulders and looking directly into his eyes. It was true: Guillermo looked into that deep obsidian gaze and found it was filled with fear and apprehension. Nandor was genuinely shaken. The apprehension within the human slowly slipped away, replaced with a warm softness--deeply rooted and impossible to purge. Guillermo had tried for years to unearth this feeling, and yet it remained stuck deep within him. The smaller man placed a warm hand atop the cold one that occupied his shoulder, coaxing him to let go, so he could help him to his coffin.
“C’mon, Master, let’s get you to coffin,” Guillermo cooed softly, wrapping one of Nandor’s arms around his shoulder for leverage, allowing the large vampire to lean on him for support, if needed. They stumbled through the attic, Nandor’s steps faltering while Guillermo’s were strong and unyielding, pulling his vampire back upright when he swayed too far. Guillermo walked carefully but quick enough so that Nandor didn’t pass out while he ventured back to his room, and they eventually made it.
Guillermo gently opened the door to coax Nandor through, the larger man swayed precariously, like he stood on a tightrope. As he walked through the door, mostly without Guillermo’s aid (save for a hand to hold). Nandor leaned strongly to one side, as if the room were tilting and he was trying to adapt with it. In doing so, Nandor lost his balance completely, and fell over.
Unfortunately for Guillermo, the vice grip which Nandor was using to hold onto his hand meant that he was coming down, too. The difference, this time, was that Nandor was the one who faced the brunt of the impact, his body slamming into the floor with great force. The familiar had lost his balance and tumbled atop Nandor, slamming his face directly into his chest.
Besides the burning sensation in his nose that resulted from being smashed into his firm chest with impeccable force, Guillermo felt alright. Him and Nandor were now completely flush to each other, Guillermo’s legs bracketing Nandor’s hips, chest-to-chest. But that was a whole different problem that he couldn’t address right now.
“Fu-uck,” Guillermo groaned, rubbing his nose with the heel of his palm. To his dismay, and slight terror, there was a thick smear of blood on his hand, where he’d rubbed his nose.
“Oh--” Guillermo breathed, his eyes wide, his voice laced with fear. He began to quickly extricate himself off Nandor, fumbling for purchase on the ground to push himself upright. Just as his knee found leverage, and he began to rise off of the somewhat dazed and unresponsive vampire, Nandor’s hand shot out to grab his bloody hand in a death grip.
“--Nandor..?” Guillermo’s voice wavered, fighting to stay even. He couldn’t move, his other hand was the only thing which kept him from face planting into Nandor’s chest. He sat atop the vampire, frozen in fear. He had never once bled in front of the vampires before: in all his tenure as a familiar, he managed to avoid it.
“Guillermo…” Nandor crooned, inhaling deeply, and pulling his wrist closer. While this appeared to be heading in the exact direction that Guillermo had dreamed about for years, he was apprehensive, if only for Nandor’s dampened inhibitions and thus lowered capability of self-control. Guillermo gulped. Nandor’s eyes were squeezed firmly closed, as he pulled Guillermo’s bloodied wrist closer to his face, and in turn, pulled his familiar back down onto his chest. Guillermo’s heart skittered rapidly in his chest as Nandor’s grip went impossibly tighter, pulling him with more force towards him.
“You smell so good--”
“Nandor, let go--”
Instead of a response, he simply giggled, darting his tongue out between his lips and licking them, as if he were hungry. He probably was.
“You’re not in any state of mind--”
He tugged Guillermo’s wrist sharply, throwing the man off balance and putting their faces closer together, as he struggled against gravity to support his own weight.
Nandor wouldn’t listen--couldn’t--in the state of mind the drugs had put him in. So Guillermo did the only thing he could think of, something he might severely regret down the road.
He kissed him.
As their lips met, Nandor froze, his vice grip on Guillermo’s bloody hand loosening. Guillermo thought he would immediately be pushed off, rejected, and scolded. But Nandor, even after 11 years, could still manage to surprise him. The vampire hummed low in his throat, the vibrations of which Guillermo could feel through the kiss, and it made him shiver. Nandor dropped his bloodied hand altogether, seemingly forgoing the blood that tempted him less than a minute ago, in order to bury his regal fingers into obsidian curls. His other hand found purchase on Guillermo’s dimpled hip, his thumb tracing over the edges of his waistline. Guillermo’s head was swimming, he felt giddy with excitement. He’d dreamed about this scenario over and over, and was trying not to let the fact that Nandor was inebriated ruin it for him.
You’re mine. He thought possessively, snaking a hand through his hair and grazing his fingers along his scalp. He felt the vampire shiver beneath him, followed by an attempt to deepen the kiss.
And I’m yours. Regrettably, all yours.
Guillermo knew this was wrong. Nandor would never do these things with him if he were sober, and as much as he enjoyed the contact, he couldn’t bear the pretense any longer. They were both rotten, taking advantage of others. Nandor drained people of their life, but Guillermo found people for him to drain: they were both horrible, in complementary ways. Maybe God had made them for each other, in His sick little way.
Guillermo could feel Nandor’s attempts to add his tongue to the equation, tracing curiously along his bottom lip, and the shock of it alone was enough to fully shake Guillermo from his pleasure-induced haze.
Guillermo pulled away, gasping for breath. Nandor still had his eyes closed, even after he pulled away, so Guillermo sat there in silence, atop his vampire, waiting for him to freak out or admonish him for what he’d done. But after a few minutes, all he was met with was a gentle snore, surely to forget the next evening.
***
Lately, Nandor has taken to communicating with Guillermo through the ether, if he ever needs something. According to him, it’s “faster than trying to find you, sneaky slayer!”. It’s also, unfortunately for Guillermo, decidedly more intimate than he was initially expecting. Whenever he hears Nandor’s voice--usually a soft whisper--through the ether, it feels as though he’s whispering softly into the shell of his ear. It’s startling, and Guillermo is still trying to get used to the feeling.
He’s patrolling the perimeter of the house, checking for any signs of danger, per his “morning” nighttime ritual, when he hears that telltale whispering in his ear.
Guillermo.
The smaller man flinched, quickly pivoting on his heels to check his 6, before he realized the voice belonged to a certain tall vampire. Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Guillermo responded.
“Yes, Nandor?”
“Did--did I startle you?” Nandor sounded smaller, less confident than he usually did. Guillermo frowned.
“No, Master.” Guillermo replied firmly, injecting confidence into his voice.
“Good,” Nandor sounded relieved, “I was hoping that maybe--” Nandor paused, the silence from the other side of the ether revealing far more about his mood to Guillermo than Nandor might’ve realized.
“Yes?” Guillermo coaxed softly, hoping his voice was enough to urge the vampire’s line of thought forward.
“I know you are not doing the familiar duties anymore, but--” a pause, “I was hoping you could help me get dressed for a date tonight.”
Guillermo smiled, a cocktail of bright neon feelings flashing in his chest, all complex and fighting for dominance: but the warmth he felt being most prominent of all.
“--Of course, Nandor.”
After finishing his perimeter check, he found his way to Nandor’s room, setting out his favorite fine clothing for the evening. For nearly 12 years, he starched this man’s shirts, arranged matching assorted accessories, ironed and cleaned his cape, and shined his shoes. He did all of it, without complaint, without compensation, without the slightest modicum of gratitude. As he helped Nandor into his clothing, though, looking into his ancient stony eyes, he caught a small glimpse into what he did it for.
The warm sepia of the firelight reflected against the dark shade of Nandor’s eyes, and transformed them into a deep golden amber. He watched Nandor’s fangs peek out from behind his lips as he spoke, glibly telling tales of his glory days as a conqueror under the sun, all whilst Guillermo listened, as he so often did.
He ran his hands over his solid chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in his brocade vest, and he remembers why he foolishly gave up his humanity. Nandor didn’t need to turn him into a vampire for his humanity to disappear. It left him long ago, when he ached from dragging and slicing up victims into pieces, his throat burned with bile. He’s been inhuman for 12 years now. But as he watched the crows feet settle in the creases of Nandor’s eyes, the speedy thudding in his chest reminds him, if not of his lost humanity, than of what he’d sacrificed it for.
***
Fortunately for Guillermo, and perhaps unfortunately for Nandor, the date that he’d helped prepare him for had completely failed. As had the one after that, and the one after that, and the one which followed.
Nandor was moping. That’s not what he’d call it, but that’s certainly how it appeared to the rest of the household. In fact, the 750 year old warlord would perhaps try to deny his sour feelings entirely, though nobody was buying the shit he was selling.
In his foul mood, Nandor found himself seeking out the one person he knew would listen. He stood under the stairwell, staring at the fabric of the curtain which separated Nandor and his bodyguard's room. He didn’t know what exactly drew him here, maybe it was because misery loves company? Because he knew Guillermo was just as lonely as he? He didn’t need the human’s presence, yet he craved it nonetheless. It confused him to no end, though he simply figured that he needed to be reminded of how much better off he was than Guillermo. The small sad little man hadn’t been on a date in all the time he knew him. See? He was already better than Guillermo: the little guy couldn’t even get a date!
Nandor, with all the misguided confidence of a turkey on thanksgiving, shoved the curtain aside, expecting to find his bodyguard curled up on his bed, watching his pathetic sharky shows.
The sight he was greeted with instead, was a vulnerable one.
Guillermo, stake in hand, had fallen asleep atop the sheets on his bed, leg half-dangling off the edge. He wore his bodyguard uniform, though slightly disheveled and undone. The angle at which he slept had allowed for his crisp, white undershirt to ride up his stomach, revealing a patch of bronze skin along his waistline.
Nandor stared intently at the scene, examining the way which sleep had smoothed the harsh lines of aging around his eyes and brow line. He looked at the way his soft lips were left slack, the hard line of his frowning mouth softened into something sweeter.
His intense gaze was interrupted by the slayer’s stirring. Suddenly, the smaller man's eyes snapped open at once, as if sensing a beast in the room with him. The human was on his feet in an instant, grip tightening on his stake. Whipping his head around to survey his surroundings, his panicking ceased when he caught sight of Nandor. His defensive stance slackened, the tense line of his shoulders slowly relaxing. The human dropped the stake unceremoniously, the wood loudly clambering to the floor. He seemed to let out a sigh of relief, knowing it was just Nandor that had come to visit him, and not something infinitely more violent and sinister.
Nandor noticed the heavy, dark bruises under Guillermo’s eyes, marring his delicate visage, and it made the vampire’s insides feel sour and raw.
“Guillermo, it is very dangerous for you to be doing the slumbering on the job!” Nandor chided, and Guillermo immediately began to tense up again, closing in on himself like a seashell.
Nandor took note, instead choosing to address his human softer, this time, “have you been getting rest? It’s important for your weak human brain, you know.”
Guillermo scoffed, with only an inch of mirth in his voice, “No, Nandor. I can’t sleep. If it’s not the paranoia of getting killed in my sleep by a new threat, it's the nightmares, and if it's not that--” he seemed to stop himself, tightly sealing his mouth shut with a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils.
“What is it?” Nandor asked, leaning infinitesimally closer to his human.
“It’s nothing,” Guillermo clipped, voice as sharp as the daggers Nandor used to carry as a soldier.
“Guillermo--”
“Why are you here, Nandor? I thought you were supposed to be on some date.” Guillermo snapped shortly, his tone sounded almost accusatory, as if he were hurt somehow.
Ah, he is jealous that I am pulling the ladies and he is not.
Guillermo was looking at him, now. Those dark brown eyes looked as sharp as a rusty blade, tarnished with age but just as deadly. His eyes, most of all, were expectant, demanding an answer out of Nandor where he barely knew anything himself.
Why am I here?
Nandor was here because he thought he needed to see how much more pathetic Guillermo was than him, and that would make him feel better. But instead, seeing his bodyguard with bruised eye sockets and an exhausted visage only made his insides feel like they were being flipped inside-out. It didn’t fill him with pride and satisfaction to know that the small human was suffering from pathetic nightmares and bouts of paranoia, it only made him….worried. The thought was startling.
Why am I here??
After every single one of his dates, even if it had gone well, Nandor always felt that something essential had been missing from the puzzle. He thought that if he could search hard enough, look far and wide enough, he’d find that missing piece. He’d failed to notice until this very moment, that the emptiness he felt while he was away, immediately filled itself back into place when he walked through the foyer of his home. He thought about all the times he felt at home, he thought of all the times he felt whole. Conversely, he remembers feeling empty in his own home, directly before attending the Nouveau Theatre des Vampires. He remembers feeling empty when it was just him and Benjy for a week, and Guillermo had left to be Celeste’s familiar.
Guillermo
“Well?” Guillermo prompted him, rudely interrupting his train of thought.
Nandor had no idea what to say to him: ‘I need you more than anything’ or, ‘you make me feel whole’ might’ve been a good start, but they were starts and those were scary: especially for someone as old as him.
“I- uh-- Goodbye!”
Nandor quickly turned into a bat, and fled.
***
Guillermo lounged in the archives of the Vampiric Council, studying his Van Helsing lineage through the tales of various vampires who encountered them throughout the ages. It was Nandor’s idea, to have him take a break: the closest thing to it, at least. The job of a bodyguard was about being constantly alert, so Guillermo was allowed some time to himself, as long as he didn’t stray too far from his charges, and didn’t fall asleep.
So he was here, relaxing in the archives, while Nandor and Nadja handled the Trial of Judgements, and Laszlo and Colin were fooling with the priceless artifacts in the next room over. Despite his explicit instructions to stay awake and alert, though, his body had other plans. The constant emotional exhaustion from the transition between familiar and bodyguard, coupled with Nandor’s relentless search for love, made it hard for Guillermo to get to sleep at night. He was now willing to admit that he was jealous of these women, which put him leagues ahead of the person he was directly following the events of the theatre. Nonetheless, he saw the text upon the pages swimming in his vision, his eyelids like lead weights. As the world slowly faded to black, he felt the stake at his side slide to the floor. He couldn’t be bothered, though. The world was quiet, and for once, so were his thoughts.
Meanwhile, a beast had rattled a screw loose in his carefully constructed cage. Freedom was in sight, and he could practically taste revenge and destruction on his tongue. The screw popped free, the door swung open.
With a giant crashing sound, Guillermo startled awake, eyes shooting open. In his panic to get up, the smaller human had rolled over to rise to his feet, and unceremoniously tumbled to the floor. It was good that he did, because a giant force barreled into the couch he’d just been napping on, sending it flying across the room with incredible, deadly force.
Still dazed, Guillermo grappled for a stake at his bandolier, fumbling with the wooden weapon. It was too late, however, because when Guillermo assessed his surroundings, whatever had tried to kill him had moved on. He caught a flurry of movement moving out the door, towards the Chamber of Judgement. Guillermo watched in shock, wondering what the ever-loving fuck just happened.
”Mierda,” he breathed, scrambling to his feet, sprinting after the creature.
***
Nandor and Nadja currently stood at the throne, serving judgement to a vampire accused of tax evasion. The highest crime of them all, according to Nadja. Nandor swears that she made that up on the spot: he couldn’t be sure, though. Nadja was amidst sentencing the vampire to death, when they were interrupted by a foul clamoring noise down the hallway.
“What the bloody shit is that?” Nadja cried, outraged that her dramatic moment was interrupted. The double doors of the chamber burst open suddenly, a gust of wind rushing through to meet them, assaulting their faces and jostling their robes.
“Who goes there, fiend!” Nadja hissed again, while Nandor was still at a complete loss for words. If there was a threat that reached them here in the Chamber, then that means…
Where is Guillermo?
Nandor felt like someone just kicked him in the stomach, like his chest was a balloon and someone took a needle to it. He felt that deflated feeling, and yet he was devoid of fear. A rock of dread had settled itself firmly in his throat, ready to drain his ancient tears from him.
An ugly vampire walked into the room, all skin and bones, face taut and stretched, and grinned with murderous intent. The instant he laid eyes on them, Nandor knew this vampire was supposed to be The Sire. Nandor should be scared, but all he could feel was rage.
I needed him
I needed him like a plant needs sun
I needed him, dammit!
The Sire was snapping and hissing their long sharp teeth at Nadja and Nandor. When the wraiths rushed to restrain them, they lashed out, movements impossibly fast, until the wraiths all lay in a pile at the Sire’s feet. The Guide was shrieking about how she didn’t get paid enough for this, and promptly disappeared into bat form.
The Sire was currently too distracted with tearing the necks out of the wraiths that they’d incapacitated to pay attention to Nadja and Nandor. Nadja was shrieking something about how they needed to leave right this instant! or they’ll be killed by a shriveled raisin! Nandor couldn’t pay attention. That sinking feeling in his chest only worsened by the second. Nadja was tugging harshly on his cloak, now, pleading with him to leave with her.
That feeling became heat within him, intensifying and spreading to his chest with every passing moment, he felt dizzy. Guillermo was gone. Nandor shrugged Nadja off, marched to the nearest wooden chair, and broke off its leg.
“Hey you! Prune-y fucking guy!” Nandor shouted, fighting off the shakiness in his voice. He stomped towards the ravenous vampire, gripping the smooth grain of the wood tightly within his grasp.
“This is for my--”
“Nandor!” A familiar soft voice called out from behind the Sire. Nandor didn’t even have time to be relieved, before the small human was barreling into the Sire, only managing to knock them off balance slightly. Guillermo only had a second before they whipped around to face him, shoving him back so hard he’d hit the wall. The wind being entirely knocked out of him, he was vulnerable, so Nandor stuck to his original plan: he charged toward the Sire with his makeshift stake.
There was a flurry of movement in front of Nandor that startled him while he attacked and it tripped him up, legs stuttering. As he fell, he felt an emptiness in his palm where the stake should be, and a pain in his shoulder. His non-injured shoulder slammed into the ground, and he grunted, clutching the opposite arm, where a stake had seemingly made a home in his flesh. Presumably the Sire's work. Nandor winced from the pain, pressing his forehead to the cool tile of the ground.
“Mas--ghk!” Nandor whipped his head up to the sound to witness the Sire crushing Guillermo’s windpipe under their ugly, knobbed fingers. As the small human desperately clutched his assailant’s wrists, he realized he was unarmed, his bandolier was empty of stakes, all his other materials were at home. There was a fear in his eyes, like a caged lion. The predator within him was pinned, struggling to break free, yet helpless to do so. Suddenly, his eyes brightened as though he appeared to realize something. His hands drifted down to his belt, where a small silver karambit was sheathed. He spun it weakly in his hand, gripping it so it angled downwards, like a fang ready to strike.
As Guillermo raised his arm to attack, Nandor tried to get up, but his staked arm refused to move. After a panicked moment, Nandor managed to shift his weight and stumble to his feet once again.
Before he was able to full-body tackle Guillermo’s assailant, however, the vampire disarmed the slayer with preternatural speed, taking the silver dagger for themself.
With deadly force, they plunged it deeply into Guillermo’s chest.
"Hgk--" the human spluttered, an angry red coating his lips. Guillermo's knees buckled, his body being held up at one deadly point of contact, his eyes were round with the fear of realization, looking at someplace far away.
Nandor heard a throaty, pained noise, wondering where it came from, until he realized he was the source. With an enraged howl, he ran full speed at the Sire, slamming the full weight of his body into them, effectively pinning them to the ground. With a final, pained cry, Nandor gripped the stake in his shoulder and ripped it out with a squelch. Panting heavily, he shoved the wooden stake into the vampire’s chest with incredible force. The Sire's abdomen appeared as if it collapsed under Nandor's strength. He watched the vampire flail, blood gurgling from his lips, as the unlife left their eyes for the final time.
All Nandor could hear was his blood roaring in his ears, and he suddenly felt like a human on the battlefield again. Violence and bloodshed and death in the air, a song and dance he once greeted as an old friend, now felt bitter and out of tune. When his surroundings slowly bled back into his conscious state, he remembered Guillermo with a start, and rolled off the dead vampire. He scrambled Guillermo's side, cradling his dying human, watching the blood trickle from his lips in a pretty carmine tear. His lashes were splayed across his ruddy cheeks, wet with tears.
He looked up at Nandor with those beautiful brown eyes of his, “Is this when you turn me into a vampire?” he smiled humorlessly, giving a sarcastic chortle, before wincing in pain and clutching his chest.
“Please don’t do the laughing Guillermo, you will strain yourself. I need you alive,” he admitted quietly, gripping his hand.
“Even now, you don’t want to turn me…?” Guillermo looked as if he could cry, if not for the blade lodged in his chest.
“You just--you are such a young human, you are so full of life and warmth.”
“I won’t be, soon.” Guillermo grinned without humor once again.
“I can’t take that from you,”
Nandor could feel his voice break midsentence.
“You already did. You took 11 years, Nandor,” There were tears at the corner of Guillermo’s eyes, threatening to fall in an arc down his pretty cheeks. His eyes were pleading.
“Guillermo… I am so sorry,” Nandor squeezed his small hands, his own tears threatening to spill.
“It’s okay, Nandor,” Guillermo looked at him with desperation and warmth in his amber eyes, “I was never good at being human anyways.”
“It's not okay!” Nandor cried hopelessly--then, quieter and more broken, “I need you.”
“I know,” Guillermo grinned genuinely this time, blood thinly coating his lips like gruesome lipstick.
“I-I’ve fallen for you,” Nandor looked at him seriously, gripping his hand for dear life.
“And I’m about to die for you, we’re even.” Guillermo quipped flatly.
“No, Guillermo, you are not understanding--” Nandor looked distraught, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“No, I understand too well,” Guillermo breathed, his voice broken with an emotion Nandor couldn't place. Without preamble or warning, Guillermo buried his hand in Nandor’s hair and pulled him into a scalding kiss, mixing blood and fear and something new and exciting. Nandor’s hand came up to cradle Guillermo’s cheek, his thumb softly wiping off the blood that had weeped from his mouth. He pulled away, looking afraid and unsure, but a strong sense of resolve had found hold in his gaze.
“Are you sure you are wanting this?”
“How could you even ask that? You know my answer.” Guillermo wheezed weakly.
“A-Alright,” Nandor took a deep breath.
He popped the two uppermost buttons on Guillermo's collared shirt, delicately parting the fabric like a human would open curtains in the morning. The smaller man smelled of fear, death, and blood, but even now, so close to his neck, he never lost that faint scent of earthy sandalwood.
Nandor knew he had to work fast, so he lightly kissed the spot he intended to bite a couple times, drawing quiet little gasps from Guillermo, before he sank his teeth into the soft juncture of his neck. A small, strained sigh left Guillermo's lips, and his grip on Nandor's cape tightened, but only barely: that’s how the vampire knew he was running out of time. He felt the human's chest moving more erratically and at quicker intervals, the grip Guillermo had around the lapels of his cape weakened, but his arms became heavier with the more blood he took. Guillermo wouldn't be able to move for much longer...
He took as little blood as needed, staying firmly grounded from the pain of the wound in his shoulder, and the fear in his heart. When he pulled away, Guillermo was still as death, quite literally. His warm skin was devoid of the life Nandor cherished so much. His cheeks looked sallow and pale, devoid of the natural blush the vampire secretly admired, the bruises around his eyes were nearly black around his sockets. He looked dead, save for a small, stuttering heartbeat in his chest. Nandor closed his eyes and listened for the last time, tears running hotly down his cheeks. Then he let out a small, pained sob, and bit his lip as hard as he could.
He surged down to kiss Guillermo, lip bleeding profusely, as he angled them both to deepen the kiss. There were fresh tears on sliding down his cheeks and onto his human's as he cradled Guillermo’s face in his hands, making sure that his blood was going down Guillermo's throat. He kept kissing until Guillermo went completely cold in his hands, the last of his heartbeat finally silent forever. His hands limply falling from their grip on Nandor's cape and landing bonelessly at his sides. Nandor sat up in shock, eyes red and cheeks tearstained, still openly crying. As he sat atop Guillermo's hips for a long, heavy moment, he examined the gaping wound in his chest compared to his delicate face, and wondered how such a gruesome, ugly wound could end up on someone so achingly beautiful. The silent minutes in between death and unlife were long and sickening. Nandor felt dizzy from crying, and his throat hurt from screaming. While his head swam, he waited.
And he waited
And waited
But then Guillermo’s eyes shot open, and a crimson grin quickly unfurled across his face at the sight of Nandor, his two new twin incisors poking out from behind soft crimson lips.
“If all I had to do to become a vampire was sacrifice myself to save you, then I would’ve done it so much sooner,” Guillermo was beaming, as he pulled Nandor towards him by the lapels for the first of many bloody, messy kisses.