Chapter Text
Guillermo hates weddings. They're too crowded, for one- too many bodies bustling about an enclosed space, too much talking, too much boisterous laughter. It never fails to make Guillermo tired and overstimulated. And the niceties, god. Guillermo already can't stand the absurd posturing normal conversations seem to have, but at a wedding this effect only serves to exacerbate itself. All told, he is very, very unenthused when Nadja announces to him over breakfast that they'll be attending the union of Supreme Vampiric Council member Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg (lord, what a name) and co-member Vladislav the Poker this coming friday. They have to go though, because Nadja is on the Supreme Vampiric Council now and it's good optics or whatever. Guillermo fucking hates optics. He announces as such loudly, because there's little else he can do other than complain, and he also has the rest of his body occupied by a very harried vampire tailor who is measuring him in a rather violent manner.
"Oh, chin up," says Nadja pityingly, holding an elaborate satin gown against her chest, "it's not all bad. Look, I'll even ask Viago to arrange for a human chef to cook you something nice. What is it you humans like, uhm… pretzels-? Pre- you like pretzels, right, Guillermo?" And to be fair, that has been the closest she's ever gotten to figuring out what a proper human meal is. Guillermo is kind of touched.
"It's fine," sighs Guillermo, "I'll get my own food."
"Okay then, suit yourself." Nadja checks herself in the reflection of the cupboard in front of her and frowns. "You, manservant, do you think this is too gaudy for a wedding or no?"
"It looks lovely, madame."
Nadja flashes him an annoyed look.
"Gizmo, tell me the truth."
"It's a little much, yeah."
It's sickening, really. He's staring at himself in the mirror, admiring the admittedly gorgeous outfit the Council prepared for him, and all he can think about is how he wishes Nandor were here to see him clean up so nicely. And maybe he would have, he thinks bitterly, if he'd just pick up Nadja's damn ether calls.
"Guillermo," says Nadja softly, her hands twirling his hair into neat little waves atop his head, "you think too much about that idiot."
He blanches. "How did you-?"
"Oh please," Nadja snorts, "I've known you long enough to tell when you are thinking sappy thoughts. Your face goes all doughy and sad. It is a very pathetic sight." He knows her words hold no malice. He's well acquainted with Nadja's strange brand of affection by now.
"Listen, vre paidi mou," she says briskly, smoothing out the last of his flyaway hair, "that man treated you like pigshit and he does not deserve to be clogging up your brain so badly all the time. Honestly, if I were you I would have chopped his dick clean off centuries ago." Guillermo decides not to point out the fact that, up until three months ago, Nadja had also been treating him like pigshit.
"I wasn't alive centuries ago," he says instead. Nadja glares at him. Guillermo grins back at her brightly.
"You're a very pesky little human, you know," she says, pinching his cheek. It probably hurts more than she means it to. A bell tolls in the distance and she jumps a little in surprise. "Oh! It's starting! Come on now, we're going to miss the whole bleeding thing if you dally any longer." She punts Guillermo out the door unceremoniously. They have to go back in for his glasses.
"Now entering, Lady Nadja of Antipaxos and her esteemed bodyguard, Guillermo de la Cruz."
"My arm, Guillermo," hisses Nadja urgently. Guillermo grabs the one she offers him hurriedly just as they begin to make their way down the ridiculously ornate marble staircase that adorns the mouth of the Supreme Vampiric Council headquarters. They descend the steps to a chorus of low murmurs and not-so-furtive curious glances and Guillermo is almost surprised at how quiet and reserved they're being (for vampires, at least) until he remembers the small little killing spree he and Nadja had gone on a few days prior. It wasn't their fault anyway, the council needed their debts paid in full and that particular coven had been evading vampiric taxes for nigh on a century, and Guillermo and Nadja had a little sidebar and decided a bit of murder would cheer the both of them up immensely and then it just sort of… happened. And, besides, they really were being rather stubborn. Guillermo smiles politely at a vampire who had been whispering about him particularly loudly and they recoil a little, lip curling in equal parts fear and disgust. He's a little disconcerted to find that he rather enjoys it.
There's a man staring at him from across the banquet table. Guillermo squints at him surreptitiously and deduces that he is, in fact, a vampire. Which means he's not in front of the crepe stand to get crepes. He's not looking to eat Guillermo, either, by the way he's eyeing Guillermo up (well, not in the literal sense, anyway). He thinks faintly of Laszlo offhandedly mentioning to him that there's a not-insignificant population of vampires who find vampire slayers insanely attractive. It was followed by a very meaningful look that Guillermo was not particularly keen on unpacking in that moment. This man, however, is very intriguing indeed. His eyes are a lovely green hue and his chest length brown hair frames his face just so. He smiles invitingly when he catches Guillermo staring and Guillermo turns away quickly, face flushing. Unfortunately this causes him to make eye contact with Nadja from across the room, and she wiggles her eyebrows at him with a lewd grin plastered across her face. Guillermo grimaces and turns back around only to find that the man has stepped up behind him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He startles and stumbles back a bit and the man laughs and places a firm hand on Guillermo's shoulder to stop him from falling. He tugs Guillermo upright, trails his hand down Guillermo's arm and lingers on his fingers for a second before pulling away. It's probably the most forward anyone's ever been to Guillermo in his entire life. He doesn't quite know how to react.
"Careful there," laughs the man, "you almost knocked your head." His accent makes Guillermo's head swim.
"Right," Guillermo breathes, "sorry, um..."
"Alexander," he smiles crookedly, holding his hand out, "though friends call me Alex."
"Guillermo," he replies, "Nice to meet you, Alexaaan-" the man shakes his head just a hair, "-um, Alex." Guillermo motions to shake Alex(ander)'s hand with his own clammy one. Alex raises it to his lips and presses a kiss to Guillermo's knuckles. Guillermo nearly faints.
"I don't need an introduction for you, my dear Guillermo," Alex all but purrs, still grasping gently onto Guillermo's increasingly sweaty hand, "I've heard many a tale of the man who singlehandedly massacred a theatre full of some of the most powerful vampires in all of Staten Island."
"Oh," Guillermo's voice cracks embarassingly, "um, thanks?" He's saying 'um' a lot. He should stop saying 'um'.
Alex steps closer into his space so that their chests are nearly touching. Guillermo can see the individual hairs of his eyelashes. His eyes swivel elsewhere on instinct, brain activating its oh fuck a hot person is hitting on me what do i do protocol, head swirling wildly-
And then he sees it. The flash of a billowing red fur cape. That awkward gait. He could recognise it anywhere, pinpoint it through a sea of millions.
There, in the corner of the ballroom, sulking morosely as he nurses a half-drunk cup of blood wine, is Nandor.