Work Text:
Night 173:
Nick was not, in fact, ready to hand out treats that Halloween.
Zoldrak got a costume for himself—a medieval style archer's outfit—and for once, he didn't hide his ears. He knew from experience that people would assume their pointed shape was part of the costume, as long as he didn't let them have a close look.
His plan was to hand out treats until shortly before sunset, and then turn off his porch light, put the treats away, and take off his costume in preparation for Nick waking up.
The first part of the plan went well. He was in a residential area with plenty of kids, so he got a decent number of trick-or-treaters. As usual, he'd bought too much candy, and still had about a third of the bowl left when he closed up shop.
Nick awoke just as he'd gotten the costume off, and he went and changed Nick, then led him to the kitchen.
It was then that his plan went wrong.
Just as he was warming up Nick's blood, the doorbell rang. Nick let out a cry, covering one ear with his good arm. The doorbell rang again, and Nick fled.
Zoldrak found him in the living room, huddling behind the couch sobbing as the doorbell continued to ring. “Oh, Nick, I'm sorry.” Zoldrak hugged him. “I guess one of the kids doesn't realize that no lights means no treats, and they think we didn't hear the doorbell. It's OK. We'll just wait here until they give up and go away.”
Nick moaned, nuzzling Zoldrak's neck. “Do you want—” Nick moaned, “to drink from me?” Zoldrak asked. “Not the neck,” Nick moaned, “please.” He shifted and offered his wrist instead, and with one last moan, Nick bit down. “All right. You're OK. Just drink up and don't worry about the bell.” He said, wincing. Each bell ring made Nick flinch and jostle his fangs, which made the bite hurt more.
It felt like ages before the bell finally stopped ringing. Zoldrak waited a moment, then gently got Nick to let him go. “I'm going to go disconnect the doorbell, OK, buddy?”
He had a bruised wrist the next day.