Chapter Text
“Master? Are you sure you should have another… uh… drink?”
Guillermo was freezing, exhausted, and overwhelmed with panic as Nandor was trying to lure an unsuspecting dive bar patron behind the dumpster in the alleyway. Nandor hadn’t even hypnotized him, all he had to say was “Let’s go outside” and the man had followed him into the cold Staten Island night, probably thinking Nandor would offer him a cigarette.
“Don’t be a such a Debbie’s Downer, Guillermo. I’m having fun with my new friend!” Nandor protested, gesturing at the man in a Cubs hat and a black puffer jacket who looked as drunk as him. Just a sip from that guy would probably send Nandor from drunk to straight-up shitfaced, and Guillermo could not allow it.
He had seen many firsts in his tenure as a familiar, but one of the most unexpected ones had been the vampires' ability to get drunk. It’s not something Anne Rice had ever warned him about. But more worrying was the fact that centuries’ worth of partying did not make you hold your liquor better, or, god forbid, know when to stop drinking. If anything, the Baron’s ‘accident’ was proof alright that vampires had the sense of self-preservation of college kids celebrating their 21st birthday with a bar crawl.
Guillermo’s promotion from familiar to glorified nanny, or ‘bodyguard’, as he called it, had not come with a new job description, much to his disappointment. Instead, a slew of new responsibilities were suddenly added to an already extremely busy schedule. Matters of safety bulked up most of this extra workload, and although he was reluctant, tagging along with the vampires on their nights out had become a necessity. After much deliberation he had managed to get the vampires to agree.
It proved to be a much more stressful experience than he could have ever imagined. Vampires liked to party, that he knew, but they liked to party hard. It was the first time he saw his master drunk in public; he’d been around Nandor after the vampire had had too much liquor blood at home, in a setting that Guillermo had some sort of control over.
This was entirely new, terrifying, and appalling. Nandor was a messy drunk, running around the bar, yelling incoherently, tripping over chairs, tables, and people alike. Guillermo had to keep his master from getting into fights in strangers or impale himself on one of those pointy receipt holders on several occasions. Not even mentioning the fact that he fed left and right in the open, leaving victims half-bled passed out on the floor, Nandor was generally being a nuisance not only to the patrons and staff, but also to Guillermo, whose criticism of his carelessness seem to be the only thing keeping Nandor from having the night of his life.
But more importantly, Nandor did not want to go home. Laszlo and Nadja had already left; he wanted to ‘see what Colin Robinson was up to’ while she was consoling the doll who had complained all night about her lack of suitors. But Nandor’s usual “Not now, Guillermo” was the only answer the human ever got when he suggested they go home. Guillermo couldn’t believe the sunrise never surprised his stubborn master during one of those nights out. It was now his responsibility to make sure it didn’t happen tonight, and Nandor was making it very hard.
Before Guillermo could use the excuse that they were already outside to try and convince Nandor to finally get going, his master grabbed the man by the collar of his puffer jacket and dragged him behind a nearby dumpster in the back alley. At least Nandor had the decency to feed unseen.
It was sloppy. Guillermo heard a cry of surprise followed by the sound of cartilage crushed under the strength of Nandor’s jaw. Guillermo resigned himself and took on watch duty, rehearsing lies to distract anyone who would get a little too curious about the suspicious slurping noises coming from behind the dumpster.
It was a matter of only a couple of minutes. Nandor emerged back from his hideout, his face and torso covered in blood, his fist still gripping at his victim’s collar.
“Master I think we should dispose of the body now.” Guillermo's tone resembled that of a grade school teacher in over his head trying to control a crowd of rowdy children. Nandor nodded and chucked the body above his shoulder as easily as if it had been a shot glass. Guillermo winced as he heard what sounded like bones breaking against a brick wall. The body was out of sight for now. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
He was going to need a lot of those small victories, because Nandor didn’t look so good. He looked much worse, in fact. His entire body swayed from side to side for a second before he fell head first toward the ground. Guillermo’s reflexes were thankfully still sharp enough despite the exhaustion, and he rushed just in time to catch his master. Guillermo grunted as the weight of Nandor’s body hit him. Called it.
Nandor was conscious but too drunk to speak, and his beard was gently brushing against Guillermo’s cheek as the human tried to maneuver his master back on his feet. It took Guillermo both an incredible amount of physical strength and all of his resolve to push Nandor away. For just a second he allowed himself to imagine that the embrace had been intentional, as if Nandor finally rewarded Guillermo’s decade and then some of service by giving him what he had always desired, since the very first day they had met.
But now wasn’t the time to indulge in fantasies that Guillermo knew would remain fantasies. He was on duty, and the overwhelming, soul-shattering love he felt for Nandor needed to be channeled once again into selfless service. He was used to it, he was used to showing his complete devotion the way a guard dog does, never expecting anything in return. That’s how his master needed him, and that’s what Guillermo would provide.
Right now, Nandor couldn't do anything without Guillermo. The man had managed to get the vampire back on his feet, but they both quickly lost balance, performing an awkward dance until Guillermo had no choice but to sit his vampire down with his back against the dumpster keep him from falling again.
“Master? Are you gonna be okay?” The crack in his voice betrayed his worry. But Nandor didn’t respond. He simply stared at him, or rather in his general direction, his head bobbing like one of those ugly dogs Guillermo’s mom loved to put on the dashboard of her car. Oh he’s fucked up, Guillermo thought, torn between endearment and panic. Nandor was more fucked than Guillermo thought a vampire could ever get.
Nandor needed him to find a solution fast. They didn’t have much time, it was almost 5 am already and the sun would come up before Nandor sobered up. He was in no condition to fly, and even if he were, he would probably get lost, and end up burnt to a crisp mid-flight. They couldn’t take an Uber: Nandor’s clothes were covered in blood, although in the darkness they just looked wet and sticky, which would be enough for most drivers to turn them away (and Guillermo was not to keen on jeopardizing his cherished 4.9 rating for his master). Public transportation was also out of the question: he wasn’t strong enough to even carry Nandor to the nearest metro station.
Nandor’s state reminded Guillermo of his days at Panera bread. He remembered the parties his coworkers held, where he did have to nanny some of his friends through drunken fits not unlike the one Nandor was having. The only thing that seemed to help then, or at least the only thing that didn’t do any more harm, was to get them to drink water. Let’s get him non-liquor blood then. But what were his odds of finding a potential victim, let alone a sober one, who would be easily tricked into getting bit by a 6-foot tall man who could barely speak and who was currently slouched speechless against a dumpster?
“Guillermoooo”
Guillermo looked down at Nandor, waiting for the rest of the sentence. But it never came. Instead the vampire repeatedly slurred his name, unable to express even the simplest request.
Guillermo didn’t have the time to go back into the bar to find another victim–the bouncer would probably not even let him back in this late. He looked around, but the Staten Island street were empty.
I’m sober. The realization didn’t hit him, instead he very calmly came to terms with it. It was obvious, it was logical. He weighed the idea against his other options (or lack thereof), and, well, nothing really compared, did it? I was both drastic and dangerous, but it was the only way. It’s not like he had a choice.
Would it be painful? Would Nandor stop before it was too late? Was he strong enough to fend off his own master if he tried to kill him? These questions unsettled him, and he refused to answer them, yet they didn’t shake his determination. He was a bodyguard, his own physical integrity didn’t matter when Nandor’s safety was at stake. Extreme situations require extreme measures.
He crouched down between Nandor’s legs to face him.
“Master? Listen to me. Hey! Look at me. Mast-Nandor!”
Upon hearing his own name, Nandor lifted his head, very slowly, to meet Guillermo’s eyes.
“We need to get you sobered up so we can go home okay? Here’s what we’re gonna do.” Guillermo looked around, in case anyone was watching, or worse, listening. He wasn’t scared of witnesses as much as he was embarrassed by his own enthusiasm at his own ‘plan’. Of course he was dying to finally feel his master’s fangs sink into his neck, but this time he had a good reason. He was just doing his job, nothing more. Any satisfaction he would get from it he would keep to himself, and probably think about later at home in the privacy his room (if Nandor didn’t bleed him dry, that is).
“You’re gonna feed from me okay?”
Nandor’s eyes widened in surprise. The suggestion seemed to have suddenly brought him back to a state of almost complete consciousness.
“But Guillermo-”
“You have a better idea? I don’t think so. Hurry up.”
He desperately hoped Nandor wouldn’t try to come up with a better idea. Given his current state, it was unlikely. Guillermo grabbed Nandor under his armpits, expecting to have to do most of the lifting, but his vampire got up without a fuss. By some miracle, he was suddenly able to use his legs. He followed his bodyguard behind the dumpster.
Guillermo stood with his back against the brick wall, looking up at the vampire who was towering over him, blood and liquor on his breath and a glint of hunger in his eye. But Nandor didn’t make a move.
“Come on” Guillermo whispered, exasperated, as he zipped down his jacket and exposed his neck. The cold bit him harder than he expected.
“Guillermo, are you sure about that?”
“Yes Master.” As soon as the words left his lips, Guillermo grabbed the back of Nandor’s head and pulled it down slowly but firmly toward his neck. He surprised himself with the assurance of a gesture that sent his slayer senses into overdrive. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he had to. He wanted to, for Nandor. He could finally give himself to his master the best way he knew how.
Nandor’s uncertain gaze was darting back and forth between Guillermo’s eyes and neck. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t give in either. He looked scared and confused, drunk out of his mind, yet Guillermo thought he caught a glimpse of something running deeper, something like a raging hunger waiting to be unleashed. Was it desire? Guillermo brushed it off, blaming his own desperate eagerness for projecting itself onto Nandor.
"Go ahead Master." Guillermo gave the confirmation to reassure himself as much as Nandor, who eventually let himself get pulled in. He closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. He grabbed Guillermo's shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other.
Guillermo relinquished all control and shuddered as Nandor’s fangs grazed his bare skin. There was no turning back now.