Work Text:
Bedtime had been the most difficult adjustment of their new relationship. Guillermo and Nandor could not fit in the coffin together (not that Nandor was willing to share). The bed under the stairs was too narrow for both of their frames; ditto Nandor’s chaise. And Guillermo refused to sleep in the blue room after Laszlo and Nadja said they would continue to use it with the same recreational abandon that they always had. The basement was too damp (and too close to Colin Robinson). The fancy room was too open to sunlight. Nandor literally could not find the kitchen no matter how many times Guillermo showed him where it was.
But just because the bed under the stairs couldn’t hold two-man sized bodies didn’t mean it wasn’t usable without a little creative thinking. They quickly settled into a new routine: every morning before dawn, Guillermo would change into his tshirt and shorts and Nandor would transform into a bat, settling onto Guillermo’s chest, blanket tucked around them. Guillermo rested a hand on the bat’s head lightly, stroking it with his thumb while Nandor purred against his heart. The curtain held the sunlight at bay.
Together, they slept soundly until dusk.