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"Come Guillermo, I wish for you to plait my hair." Nandor’s silhouette loomed imposing in the doorway to the library, his stoic features obscured by the dancing candlelight. Guillermo nearly tripped over his own feet getting out of his chair, the ancient book he was reading clattering to the ground.
It had been a week since the theater incident. Guillermo didn't know why he was even still in the house. Nadja and Laszlo had begged him to come home, but after his outburst about laundry, Nandor had grown silent. In fact his most recent command were the first words he'd spoken to Guillermo since.
If Guillermo really thought about it, he probably came home out of trauma. Of all the vampire killing he'd done in the past few months, what happened that night was nothing like before. Sure, he'd wanted to save his friends. Sure, he'd been emboldened by Nandor's emotional tirade. Emotional for him at least. But at some point primitive instinct took over in a way that terrified him. He shuddered as he remembered scrubbing blood off of himself for what seemed like ages, watching it swirl and stain the drain as painfully as it did his mind.
Maybe that's why he didn't think twice about answering Nandor's call. He was pathetically grateful the vampire wasn't disgusted by him, at least not enough to keep Guillermo from serving him. And if Guillermo was excited about brushing Nandor's hair again, well. That was his own personal, private pathetic business.
They really hadn't had much time to speak, Guillermo mused as he silently followed Nandor upstairs. The house had been in such deplorable disarray that he'd been more than busy getting things back in order. He viewed it as a sort of penance: every smudge wiped away felt like a purification of his own conscience. He prayed the intimacy of his next task would help him polish his and Nandor's tarnished relationship. Realistically though, he knew this would be more of a haranguing than a baptism.
He also knew he was right when they got to Nandor's room. The two stared at each other tensely until Nandor snipped, "Is it not obvious I would like to be made comfortable? A few weeks and you've forgotten 11 years worth of experience?"
“Don’t we usually do this after you take a bath?” Guillermo winced as the jab left his mouth unbidden. Nandor ignored it, merely gesturing to himself as if to say get started. Guillermo crossed the room, head down in apology. His hands shook as he unclasped Nandor’s cape, and he noticed Nandor watched him studiously as he hung the garment in its place. Nandor’s scrutiny was difficult enough; at this proximity, Guillermo felt like he could practically taste it.
He pulled Nandor’s sash and cravat free, reveling in the soft, satisfying noises they made. He’d done this so many times that he’d hoped the familiarity would steady him. It did anything but. His hands continued to tremble as he started at the buttons on Nandor’s vest. The thick fabric did him no favours, and he didn’t miss Nandor narrowing his eyes in frustration.
“You were very scary the other night, Guillermo, do not scare me like that again,” Nandor huffed, breaking the terse silence.
“I’m sorry, master,” Guillermo replied reflexively. He slipped the vest from Nandor’s shoulders and hung it on his arm as he started undoing Nandor’s shirt. This was usually his favourite part since he often couldn’t resist fantasizing of undressing Nandor in a different context. Instead it now felt like he was baring his own soul with every garment he removed.
“You should be. I mean you could have been killed! What would I have done then?” Nandor bared his fangs in annoyance, “Rehired Benji? I cannot hear one more thing about jolf. No, Guillermo, you need to be alive.”
Guillermo couldn’t hide his look of confusion at the sentiment, but Nandor didn’t acknowledge it. He tried to focus on undoing Nandor’s cuffs and pulling the shirt from his body. Nandor continued, “I will not discuss this vampire slaying business with you any further.”
Guillermo had a short lived moment of relief as Nandor took a seat to let Guillermo tug off his boots. “I just think that it is strange you did not bring up the ancestry results when you first received them,” Nandor prattled on as Guillermo hit his knees to work the many clasps free, “You know we would not have minded that much, at least I wouldn't have."
“What was I supposed to say?” Guillermo said, frustration painting his features, “Oh by the way, it's probably my destiny to kill vampires. You know, that thing you guys are? Fuck.”
Nandor stared at him briefly with an inscrutable expression before standing again, “That is comfortable enough, bring me my robe. I do not wish to go to coffin with oil soaking my undershirt.” Guillermo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and did as he was told. Nandor allowed him to wrap him in the garish red silk garment before settling into a chair, still watching Guillermo with an unreadable look as he gathered a brush, ties, and hair oil.
Guillermo admired how Nandor seemed to be made to wear red for a fraction of a second before pulling the tie out of Nandor’s hair. He set to work brushing through the thick forest of dark hair in front of him, smiling to himself at how it glided through his fingers. Nandor’s hair was coarse but still fell in graceful waves along the path of the brush. Guillermo breathed in deep, taking in the rich smell of spice and copper that always seemed to linger on Nandor. He felt his anxiety settle as he ran his fingers through the dense locks. The act seemed to have a soporific effect on Nandor as well, Guillermo thought as he watched the tension melt out of his master’s shoulders. Entranced by his work, he spoke before he even realized it, “I think I didn’t tell you because I was scared too. It was a living nightmare. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I think...I think I was ashamed of it.”
Nandor hummed pensively, “There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are a very terrifying warrior; you should be very proud of your prowess.” He chuckled to himself. “I did not think you had it in you.”
Guillermo blushed at that but focused on grabbing the oil. He lathered his hands with it before savouring the smell of argan and rose. He worked the oil through Nandor’s tresses and watched as the hair curled delightfully under his fingers. Nandor spoke up again, practically purring, “Yes, that is very nice. My hair has been so thirsty since you left. The beard too, Guillermo.”
“Yes master.” A pang of guilt ran through Guillermo as he realized how his absence had taken a toll on Nandor personally. Logically Guillermo knew Nandor could take care of himself, but that wasn't the point with Nandor. Guillermo knew how spoiled he was, like a domesticated creature. He kept his eyes down as he came around to run his fingers through Nandor’s beard. Usually Nandor would sigh softly at this, tipping his cheek into Guillermo’s hands. But today Nandor was simply watching him intently as though he had something to say but wasn’t.
“You should know, you cannot be killing anyone we are friends with,” Nandor’s interruption nearly made Guillermo drop the brush he’d picked up, “Strange vampires, that is fine. But Nadja and Laszlo are off limits. I do not have time to find more vampire roommates, and I would not last a day in this house alone with Colin Robinson.”
Guillermo laughed, “I would never hurt them, master.” He worked the oil through Nandor’s hair with the brush, loathe to watch the curls disappear. He chewed his lip, “So you aren’t afraid to be around me?”
“Of course not,” Nandor’s tone was uncharacteristically gentle, “You're still you, Guillermo. I just know more about you now, I suppose.” Guillermo smiled at that as he parted Nandor’s hair and started the first braid. Nandor tittered apprehensively, "Besides, you would not kill me, would you?”
“No master,” Guillermo hoped his voice didn’t sound as unsure as he felt.
"Good. I've already died once and yeuch, that was enough. It is very boring being dead. Granted I was not dead for very long, but that was long enough," Nandor complained. Guillermo laughed nervously at that, and they fell into a more amicable silence.
Again Guillermo’s hope for normalcy was dashed in an instant. “Did you ever consider it?” Nandor asked suddenly. The strands Guillermo had been weaving together slipped from his hands, and he watched his work unravel.
“What?” he mustered, praying to a God he knew wasn’t listening that Nandor’s question didn’t mean what he thought it did.
“Did you ever think about it? About killing me?” Nandor’s voice was barely audible but it still hit Guillermo like a sucker punch.
“You don’t want me to answer that.” Guillermo’s heart rampaged in his chest, the tremble returning to his once steady hands.
“Tell me,” Nandor commanded, the bite of his tone cutting into Guillermo’s already raw mental state.
He wished the ground would open up and swallow him; he would give anything not to have to tell Nandor the thing that made him wake up in a cold sweat more often than he could even admit to himself. “Yes.”
"Guillermo!" Nandor whirled on him, baring his fangs, "I cannot believe you would think that after everything I've done for you! That is very disrespectful!" And there it was, the punishment Guillermo had been waiting for. The moment Nandor would tell him to get out of his sight and never darken his door again. The silence stretched unbearably long, and Guillermo bit back tears. He sucked in air and steadied himself, knowing he was more than deserving of what would follow.
But again Nandor's eyes took on a mysterious softness even as he rumbled angrily, “Now that I consider it, you certainly had enough cause to. I am beginning to understand what you meant by needing more respect from me, Guillermo. Please take this as my vow to take it more seriously.”
Guillermo let out the breath he was holding, “Thank you?”
“You are very welcome,” Nandor answered, sounding quite proud of himself. Guillermo remade the first braid, securing it and starting its twin. He watched puzzled as Nandor seemed to press against his hands as he straightened the hair to separate new sections. He deliberately slowed his work, moving carefully as he twisted each piece over another. Nandor’s hair was so lush that it created heavy, even braids under Guillermo’s ministrations, streaked with silver flourishes. Guillermo felt both pride and awe at the beauty of Nandor’s hair, and he tried to bask in it in lieu of thinking about the conversation that had just transpired. It was so unlike Nandor to be so honest with him. He hoped it was a sign of changes to come.
Just as Guillermo went to secure the second braid, Nandor spoke again, his voice trembling, “I cannot believe you left me again.” Before Guillermo could question the emotion in his words, Nandor tipped his head back, his eyes brimming with tears. “Please Guillermo, I cannot stand you hurting me anymore,” he whispered, “How can I make you stop hurting me?" There was panic written across his features Guillermo knew he'd put there.
Guillermo moved before he was aware of it, stepping in front of Nandor to gather him in his arms. Nandor clung to his shoulders, his words muffled by him pressing his face to Guillermo’s chest, "I cannot lose any more loved ones, especially you. I treasure you, Guillermo, you are precious to me."
Guillermo watched wide eyed and helpless as Nandor came apart under him, his body heaving with the force of his sobs. Nandor fisted his hands in Guilermo’s sweater as Guillermo rubbed soothing circles into his back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t leave again, I promise I won’t hurt you again, I promise,” he babbled, desperate to string together the words that would make Nandor’s heartache stop. Nandor didn’t say anything else, merely continued to weep into Guillermo’s arms. “You...you’re precious to me too, Nandor.”
Guillermo knew he was taking a chance. What he didn’t expect was Nandor to look up at him, eyes sparkling with hope despite the tears still flowing down his cheeks. Nandor lay his head against his chest again, his frame still hitching with the occasional sob. Nandor’s hands slipped around Guillermo’s waist, and he pressed closer. Guillermo squeezed his eyes shut, relief washing over him as he realized Nandor was beginning to calm. On instinct, he started to rock Nandor gently, his hands moving along Nandor’s spine in an effort to console him.
When Nandor finally pulled away, he looked sheepish. He cleared his throat, “I am ready for sleep, Guillermo.” Guillermo sighed in affectionate irritation at Nandor’s clear attempt to regain control of the situation. He helped Nandor out of the chair, shucking the robe quickly and helping him up the steps to his coffin. He was unable to keep from watching Nandor in adoration, even when Nandor ducked his head in embarrassment. When he went to pull away, Nandor snatched his hand back, “I am glad I am important to you, Guillermo.”
“Of course you are, master,” Guillermo admitted. Nandor held his gaze, a shockingly tender look playing on his harsh features. He smiled warmly and released Guillermo’s hand.
“Good night Guillermo.”
“Good night master.” Guillermo shut Nandor into his coffin, his smile still etched into Guillermo’s mind. Things were going to change all right and certainly not in any way Guillermo had imagined. If he’d been asked if he thought Nandor would backhandly confess his love for him while getting his hair braided, Guillermo would have laughed in that person’s face. Yet he had no doubt that’s what he’d just heard. And he knew his master well enough to know that this one step forward would be followed by two steps back. Tomorrow Nandor would doubtless be insufferable in his vain efforts to cover for the vulnerability he’d shown this morning.
But, Guillermo thought as he shot one last glance at Nandor’s coffin before starting to blow out the candles, he’d waited 11 years for this. For Nandor to love him back was more of a pipe dream than becoming a vampire ever was. He could weather the slow transition of their relationship to something deeper if Nandor would let him hold him like that again.