Chapter Text
The vampires groomed each other.
The first time Guillermo had really truly noticed was about 5 months into his residency when he was dusting the railings. He’d settled into a perched position halfway down the stairs and was taking a quick break when he saw Nadja and Nandor pause in the entryway.
The two were face to face, their pale features framed by the moonlight filtering through the frosted glass of the front door. They studied each other for a long moment. Nadja reached out to gently stroke her fingertips against Nandor’s cheek. The taller man tipped his head into her touch, and her fingers drifted down to comb through his beard in short, slow, downward strokes.
Nandor’s eyes were half-lidded in bliss, his lips parting as he let out a soft sigh. His own hand reached out to tug ever so lightly at the end of Nadja’s long hair. The thick strands fell heavy across his palm as he lifted his hand, pushing her hair behind her ear and shoulder in one fluid, practiced motion that ended in his fingers slipping down along her shoulder and outreached arm.
For a brief and terrifying heartbeat, Guillermo wondered if they didn’t know he was there. The last thing he wanted to be was witness to some kind of weird forbidden vampire love tryst. If push came to shove he wasn’t sure how good he’d be at lying to Laszlo, even if it was for his Master’s sake. Guillermo’s cheeks warmed at the absolute taboo of it all, and finally, he decided to clear his throat.
They both turned at the sound, and he could see the dilation of their pupils as they focused on him. Guillermo’s face felt on fire with embarrassment, but the pair seemed completely unfazed.
Nadja dropped her hand and raised an eyebrow to Nandor before continuing past him into the fancy room. Nandor shrugged back in response and moved to the bottom of the stairs to speak with Guillermo about something completely mundane and not at all about how his familiar was now complicit in adultery.
~~~~
After that initial incident, Guillermo was far more aware of these strange little habits. It seemed to pass between the three of them naturally. The occasional need to touch and stroke and… groom? Guillermo nodded to himself as he considered this in his shabby little room at night. Grooming seemed like the right word. Preening even could work. Like little bats or birds. It made him smile in the dark.
Typically it consisted of small gestures. Laszlo and Nandor both loved to fiddle with Nadja’s hair, pushing it back behind her ear or tugging it gently into place when it gathered on her shoulders. Beard grooming was pretty common as well. Combing through the short facial hair in brushes of fingertips and the gentle scratching of their cheeks and chins.
Laszlo and Nadja would tag team Nandor from time to time, and Guillermo would occasionally walk into the hallway to find them all milling around with no particular destination.
Then there was the straightening of clothing and smoothing of wrinkles. The removal of lint or fuzz or hair from the dark fabrics of their capes and dresses and blouses. The adjusting of hats and tightening of bows. All of this was done without formality, as casually and consensually as breathing. If they were to breathe.
Sometimes bigger scenes would occur, like what Guillermo witnessed with Nadja and Nandor the first time.
One night Laszlo sat at his piano, plinking out notes while he noodled his way through a song he was composing. Some kind of sea shanty from what Guillermo had heard of it. He had stopped questioning it at this point.
Nandor was settled into one of the couches to read, writing notes in messy scribbles along the edges of the dog-eared pages.
After a particularly long round of grumbling from Laszlo, Nandor stood and paced across the room to stand behind the smaller man. He reached out, running his fingers into Laszlo’s thick hair and massaging his scalp in little circles of his fingertips. Laszlo paused for just a second, hummed a short, soft, happy tune, and went back to what he was doing while Nandor fussed with him.
“Guillermo,” Nandor had murmured, and he’d stood and hurried over to take down notes while Nandor listed off some supplies he’d need for a very special super serious vampire party he was throwing later that month. All the while, the warrior’s fingers deftly stroked his friend’s head, fanning out the long strands of hair before scritching gently against the shell of Laszlo’s ear and the trail of his sideburns.
After a bit, Nandor had stopped and wandered away to whatever it was they were doing next. Guillermo checked over his shoulder on the way out of the room and saw Laszlo adjusting himself at the bench, preparing to start up another round of actual playing. The jaunty chords followed them into the hall, and Nandor seemed in a good mood for the rest of the day.
~~~~
So it went on that from time to time Guillermo would witness these random pockets of intimacy among the vampires. It delighted him in a way he couldn’t quite explain, that he’d been able to notice something so subtle about them simply by virtue of being around them so much.
He wondered if the vampires themselves were even aware of it. At the very least, they seemed to be picky with who they’d participate with. As much as he witnessed the grooming sessions in his years there, Guillermo was not on the receiving end of it.
Often when brushing Nandor’s hair, Guillermo would earn a very quiet sigh, as if his Master had simply fallen back to sleep. A light brush against one ear or the other, and he could guide Nandor where he needed him to go with the tipping of his head into the touch. Guillermo hadn’t thought too much about this until after the scene with Nadja, and suddenly it was all he could do to keep a straight face while his big scary vampire Master was practically purring into his touch. He promised himself he wouldn’t abuse the power too much.
Five years into living with the vampires was the first time it happened to him. He’d been sitting at the couch in the fancy room, fussing over a stain with a Tide Pen that he was 99% sure wasn’t going to get the job done. Nandor was pacing the room, wrapped up in some story he was telling. Guillermo had heard it before, but would never complain. Something about pillaging and murdering and a great ferocious battle that ended in Nandor’s complete and total victory.
When he felt Nandor’s fingers settle into his thick curls, Guillermo started. His entire body going stiff, he whipped his head around, looking up into Nandor’s dark eyes. His Master peered back at him curiously, hands coming together to twist slowly in front of him at the fingertips.
“Ah, Master I’m sor--” Guillermo began, but it was too late. Nandor was striding back across the room and continuing on with his story as if nothing had happened.
That morning Guillermo had laid awake cursing himself. Five years and this was the first hint of affection he’d received from Nandor. The first sign that he was anything more than just the familiar. That he might actually be a vampire one of these days.
It took another year. Guillermo had sworn to himself if it ever happened again, he wouldn’t fuck it up. They were sitting at the chessboard, with Nandor gazing out the window. Something had been weighing on his Master, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Guillermo was just doing his best to keep him busy.
“It’s your turn Mas--”
Guillermo’s gaze rose from the chessboard, and he stopped short, swallowing his breath. Nandor had reached out, stretching across the distance of the table to tug on a long strand of dark hair that hung across Guilermo’s forehead. The touch was exotic along his skin, cold and brilliant and like static.
Past the blur of Nandor’s arm, Guillermo could see his Master’s features muted with that telltale look of concentration, a single fang hooking his lip. Guillermo’s heart hitched. He resolved himself never to move again if he could continue to stay in this moment.
“Your hair is getting so long Guillermo,” Nandor said softly, tugging again. Guillermo couldn’t stop himself from letting out his breath, barely choking back a gasp of surprise.
A smile lifted the corner of Nandor’s mouth as he considered something, but he didn’t speak again. His fingers pushed the strand of hair back, joining it with the rest of the curls that sat on Guillermo’s head. The scritch of Nandor’s fingertips against his scalp was almost more than Guillermo could handle without whimpering.
Was it really that intimate? Or was he really just that touched starved? If he was of sound mind, Guillermo would have placed equal money on either of those bets.
~~~~
And just like that, Guillermo became a source of comfort for his Master, and Nandor became a source of comfort for him. It became as much of a barometer for Guillermo to go by as any other aspect of his Master’s actions or words.
Sitting on the couch to read, Guillermo would suddenly become incredibly distracted by the sensation of a frustrated Nandor braiding his short hair. He would sit patiently, enjoying the little tugs and finger-combing, before offering to braid Nandor’s hair for him instead.
Budgeting at the small desk in the fancy room, Guillermo would feel his sweater being plucked and straightened. Passing through the hallway, Nandor would stop him to push back loose hair, or brush something unseen from his cheek. Each time he would have that blissful look in his eyes, pupils growing round and full. There was something very instinctual and sublime about this for Nandor, and Guillermo was more than happy to provide.
“Guillermo,” Nandor would say ever so softly in that tone, and Guillermo would be there, fingers passing lightly over the back of his cool hand and pressing into Nandor’s palm. He would turn Guillermo’s warm hand over and over, tracing the lines of his palm in a slow, methodical way.
Guillermo always tried his best not to shiver and squirm. The first few times were almost torturous. There was a twisting in his gut that filled Guillermo with shame and guilt. Was it wrong, how much he was enjoying something meant to be so platonic and natural between the vampires? What ridiculous expectations was he building up over something as simple as bats grooming each other?
He decided he didn’t want to think about it too hard.