Chapter Text
Guillermo stalked home at 6 am, just when the deep blackness of the sky transformed into a lighter shade of blue. He had spend the better part of the night in the basement of the shop, instructing Derek in various ways on how best to go about the transformation.
His neck, however, was still thoroughly unbitten, his warm skin unbroken.
They were still working on it. Figuring things out.
Now that Guillermo had someone's promise, there really was no reason to rush things. Becoming immortal today or tomorrow, or in a week — it made no difference to him. He wanted it done well, methodically and in a proper manner. But it turned out that, even after over a decade of wanting it more than anything else, he still did not know what it was supposed to entail.
Derek had been ready to transform him right there in the backroom, the bag of money open and uncounted besides them. The guy was so desperate for a friend that he seemed willing to do just about anything; and though he showed hesitation at first Guillermo's resoluteness convinced him quickly. But as Derek became bolder, Guillermo's doubts grew, spreading like vines around his body, choking him.
Was it finally going to happen? And just like that?
Really, Derek had done everything but lean in for the bite, ready for Guillermo's word, shaking in anticipation and the honor of turning him. Derek's keenness let alarm bells ring in Guillermo's mind, and his eyes had flickered between the cash, the stained linoleum tiles on the floor, and Derek's ashy face, searching for a sign to go back home.
He had found none, but covered his neck with his hand; instinctively, but gently — shielding it from Derek's hungry glare.
Stumbling over words, he asked Derek whether it hurt, what the side effects were. Derek was no help whatsoever, repeating that it didn't matter if that was what Guillermo really wanted.
And of course it was. It always has been.
But.
The harsh sounds of the cars driving past on the wet road weren't right. The light illuminating them in a blue hue. The crudely arranged groceries on the shelves. It wasn't right, none of it.
He had babbled on and on. About what, he didn't remember. All he knew is that he wanted to get out of there. Out of the backroom, out of the store, running as fast as he could in any direction that didn't promise such a sorry, regrettable sight as Derek's fangs catching the light.
But the vines had kept him there, rooted to the spot.
It needed to be somewhere else, he had told Derek. It needed to be another time. In different clothes. With different words. It needed to be something big, something noteworthy. A ceremony, he had said. A ceremony. It sounded, at the time, like it made total sense. Vampires did everything with ceremonies and councils and regulations.
Derek had said it didn't matter, because he had had none of that, and he did just fine— But Guillermo didn't want to hear it. He suggested locations and color schemes and guests like a bride-to-be who was certain she was marrying the wrong man.
And that was really the point of it, though it tugged painfully when he realised it. Derek was okay. He was just okay.
For a vampire, he was basically a baby. Who knew if he could even turn Guillermo if he tried. And that was the problem, not the lack of grandeur, not the geeky glasses, not the weak, slender arms.
In truth, Derek was nothing compared to most vampires Guillermo knew. He was an inconsequential speck even in the vampiric community of Staten Island. An embarrassment. Shameful.
It hurt Guillermo to think so. It hurt good. Because it was Guillermo's fault that Derek was a vampire at all. 'Fault'— because perhaps Nandor had had a point about the curse of living an undead life.
It all depended on what you made of it, he supposed. And Derek wasn't making anything out of it. But there was nobody else who was willing to turn him.
So, in the hours after midnight, they had planned a ceremony. But details were missing, questions to be asked more experienced vampires, clothes to be tailored. And Guillermo had left, promising Derek to stay in touch, to text him the next night.
And so Guillermo trotted homewards, exhausted from a night of visions, and knowing that, at home, a myriad of household chores were waiting for him. And his master would be waiting — perhaps was already waiting for him — to help him into his coffin. Or perhaps he had done it already, too impatient to wait for his familiar; sliding off his furs and removing the leathers, placing them delicately on the wardrobe for Guillermo to clean and store away, stepping first into his day clothes and then into the coffin without a helping hand, all the way grumbling and making a fuss about having to do it all alone.
Their morning ritual was Guillermo's favourite. He didn't know how Nandor felt about it. His master was often very quiet when getting undressed, his excitable demeanor falling into what was more a demure comfort as he bathed and cleaned his fangs. Guillermo usually waited outside the bathroom to dress him, but every now and again it was his job to untangle and wash his master's hair, and he would spent twenty minutes kneeling on the wooden floor at one end of the tub, untangling, shampooing, massaging — until Nandor, without taking a breath first, slid into the water to rinse it out. Sometimes he stayed under for just a moment, other times Guillermo had to wait so long that he wondered whether the water wasn't turning cold already.
As soon as Nandor emerged he would stand up, water running down his hair and his body in a constant loud trickle, and Guillermo would avert his gaze politely, handing his master the towel so he could wrap himself in it.
Guillermo knew from past experience that Nandor didn't take a bath when his familiar wasn't there to help him unless it was way past a necessity.
So, walking home, his chores in mind, Guillermo wondered whether Nandor was waiting to be bathed or whether he was already slumbering, bathtub dry and unused.
Finally, Guillermo arrived home. A quick look around told him that the vampires had all gone to bed. He whispered a gentle 'Goodnight, Master' next to Nandor's coffin, stroking over its wooden panels as if petting a cat. Then he took a shower himself and started on his chores.
As he was de-dusting the grand carpet in the hallway, Colin Robinson emerged from the basement.
"Top of the mornin' to ya," he greeted the familiar cheerfully. "Time to get that bread, am I right?"
Guillermo nodded with exhaustion.
"Hey, what's up? You're giving me an appetite here."
"Please, Colin," Guillermo sighed. "I had a long night."
"Oh, please do go on."
Guillermo let the corner of the carpet that he had grabbed drop. "I'm already tired enough, I don't need you draining me."
Colin nodding knowingly, walking on, deliberately stepping on the carpet. Right at the end of it he turned around and faced Guillermo, who was groaning internally.
"How about this," Colin started. "I'll make you a nice cuppa joe, and you vent your frustrations to me. Fair deal?"
Guillermo was too tired to decline, and Colin could make a mean cup of coffee, so he gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen.
"Great! I was going to eat on my way to work, but this is much easier."
Pouring out all of his troubles to Colin Robinson's faintly glowing eyes was always connected to a certain effortlessness that Guillermo could only theorize to be one of the energy vampire's powers. Colin's calm but interested manner of lapping up each and every word that was pouring out of Guillermo was a welcome change from the other vampires, who had a history of misunderstanding him or not listening in the first place.
"You know how I want to be a vampire, right?" Guillermo asked, fidgeting with the handle of his coffee cup.
Colin nodded impatiently.
"Well, I asked a friend whether he could turn me, because Nandor is still refusing to do it, and he actually agreed. But I don't really know how it all works—"
"Yeah, yeah," Colin interrupted. "Come on, get to the good stuff."
Guillermo took a breath. "Well, I'm not so sure anymore that I want to go through with it."
Was that really true?
"And why is that?" Colin probed.
"Uhh—" Guillermo laid his face in his hands. "Dios mío, I don't know. Maybe I'm just getting cold feet."
Colin leaned back with his hands laying clasped together in his lap. "Or not getting cold feet, if you know what I mean," he joked with a self-satisfied grin.
Guillermo, unamused, glanced at the camera crew that had followed them into the kitchen. He was so used to them by now that they seemed invisible, floating around them like ghosts until they requested an interview. But sometimes, just sometimes, they were the only thing keeping him sane. Like, for example, when Colin made a joke like that.
Eyes back on his decaf, he continued, "Well, I've wanted to do it since... since forever, basically. And I still do, I really do."
Colin raised an eyebrow. "Of course."
"I do." Guillermo took a sip. "I just wish it'd be like" — he imitated a small explosion with his hands — "blop, and I'd be a vampire."
"But...?"
"But I have to go through the whole process first. You know, first the planning of the ceremony, then the biting itself, and the first few weeks..."
"Alright, let me just interrupt," Colin said. "I'm not getting anything here, so either you tell me what's really bothering you or I'm gonna split." He pointed towards the kitchen door, where the crew was standing.
Guillermo's thoughts were racing. Was he not being honest with himself?
"This is what's bothering me," he attempted.
Colin imitated a buzzer sound. "Erghh! Wrong!"
Guillermo, defeated, drank some more of his coffee, averting Colin's eyes.
"You know," Colin said eventually, "I know you better than you might think."
"Really?" Guillermo asked sarcastically.
"It's true. I have a gift. I know how you like your coffee," — he pointed at the cup — "aaand I know how you like your vampires."
Guillermo pulled a face, but Colin wasn't done.
"Derek's not cool. I mean, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I think I know what I'm talking about. I mean come on—" He gestured at himself, evidently feeling very 'cool'.
Guillermo's brows furrowed. "Wait, how do you know it's Derek?"
"I have my ways."
"Just tell me. I'm too exhausted for this..."
Colin grinned. "I know." He shifted in his chair, folding one leg over the other. "Let's get back to business. You don't like Derek. He's the problem."
"He's... one of the problems." Guillermo had to give him that much.
"Tell me how much you hate him."
"I don't hate him," Guillermo protested. He thought about it while finishing his coffee. "I guess... I've spent over a decade with you guys," he finally said. "So shouldn't it really be one of you to turn me?"
"Oh, I would. Just to really wind them up, believe me. Alas, no—can—do."
Guillermo sighed. "Well, maybe it doesn't matter. The end product would still be the same."
"Whatever you say, buckaroo."
The documentary crew followed Colin to work for a scheduled meeting that Colin was planning to drag out to four times its planned length, which left Guillermo alone in the house except for the slumbering vampires.
After finishing his coffee and his multitude of chores, Guillermo got ready for bed to get at least three or four hours of sleep before sundown, re-watching a 90s horror movie with drooping eyelids until he fell into a dream full of fangs and dark hair.
He awoke to the sound of his alarm clock, which was set for a few minutes after dusk, and just ten minutes later he entered his master's bedroom to open the lid of the coffin.
"Good evening, master," he said gently, propping the lid up. "Did you have a nice slumber?"
Nandor was in mismatched day clothes, and a stray strand of hair lay over his face, stuck on his lip. He groaned and sat up.
"Yes, a wonderful slumber," Nandor replied sarcastically, "after crushing my fingers under the lid when I crawled in all by myself! Because my familiar, whose only job it is to hold it open, was not here!"
"I'm sorry, master. I was..." he trailed off. "Let me see."
Nandor, who had been examining his hands, showed one of them to Guillermo, moving his fingers carefully.
"Does it hurt?" Guillermo asked, taking the hand and bending one finger gently.
"Ouch, ouch," Nandor whined, pulling away.
Guillermo knew that a small thing like that couldn't possibly hurt a vampire, much less after a whole day of slumber, but he indulged his master anyway because he felt guilty for neglecting his duties.
"I can get you some ice if you want, tie it around with a cloth or something—"
"It is alright," Nandor asserted. "I am strong."
"Yes, you are, master." Taking his master's hand, Guillermo helped him out of the coffin.
Once dressed, Nandor sat on a stool so Guillermo could brush his hair.
"It's time to wash it again, I think," Guillermo murmured, pretending to talk more to himself than to Nandor.
Nandor simply replied "Okay." He already had a book in his hands again, which had been his default state the past few weeks. Guillermo sometimes tried to catch glimpses of the stories, but could rarely read the writing. What he saw were mostly stories about war and romance.
"I'll prepare the bath for the morning," Guillermo said, hoping to catch his master's attention. The thought of bathing Nandor for perhaps the last time ever felt like a stake through his heart. Becoming a vampire would not just change him, but his status in the house. No longer a familiar— But who would take over? Would Guillermo himself need a familiar? It seemed superfluous, and the idea of a new person in the house didn't sit right with him.
He just wanted to be treated the same as everyone else, Guillermo thought. And once that was given, perhaps he could still help Nandor out here and there. But maybe it would be weird, without him being his familiar and all—
"Guillermo," Nandor's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes?" he piped up excitedly.
"Do not rip out my hair, please. You are not being careful."
Guillermo deflated. "Yes, master. I'm sorry."
Two days later Colin Robinson entered the fancy room, where Guillermo, Laszlo and Nadja were sitting in relative silence.
"What's poppin'? Sorry I'm late, someone kept accidentally locking everyone in." Colin chuckled to himself. "I hope you didn't miss me."
"We didn't miss you, Colin Robinson," Nadja said. "Why would anyone miss you?"
Colin lay his hand over his heart as if shot. "Ouch, Nadja."
After Nadja's dramatic eyeroll he sat down opposite from her and Laszlo.
"Oh, hi Guillermo, didn't see you there," he said into the direction of the familiar, who was sitting in an armchair next to the sofa.
"Hey," Guillermo replied, and Laszlo almost jumped in the air out of fright.
"Fuckshit, how long have you been here for?"
Guillermo looked baffled. "I came in like half an hour ago..."
"Well, don't sneak around next time!"
"I said hello. You told me I look good today!"
"Well, you do, old chap, but I don't remember that happening. My darling, do you remember Gizmo coming in?"
Nadja groaned and threw her head back. "Can we please go back to the beautiful silence we just had so I can continue sewing this foreskin blanket for my possessed doll?"
"You know, some people might find that really creepy," Colin chimed in.
Nadja glared at him. "God forbid women enjoy anything."
Colin grimaced and turned to face Guillermo again. "Still not a vamp, I see. Did that little nerd not turn you yet?"
"Colin!" Guillermo scolded him, but it was too late; Laszlo and Nadja whipped around and stared at him.
"What?" Nadja exclaimed.
"Well, I was gonna tell you before," Guillermo started. "Derek's gonna bite me so I can finally be a vampire."
Nadja laughed hysterically. "You? A vampire? But you're so—" She stopped herself, and instead opted for vaguely gesturing towards him.
"Does Nandor know about this?" Laszlo asked.
"No, not yet," Guillermo admitted.
Laszlo grunted and leaned back.
"So, you guys aren't upset about me becoming a vampire?" Guillermo asked timidly.
"Well, normally I would be, but Nandor has been awfully boring lately with his books," Laszlo said. "Which, by the way, are mildly erotic at best. Yes, I wanted to know what's so interesting about them," he added to his wife at her incredulous stare. "So having someone to hang out with would be very welcome indeed."
"I'm someone to hang out with!" Nadja protested setting her sewing project aside.
"Yes, my darling, but I mean guy stuff. Football evenings with Seanie, drinking some drug dealers in the park, stroking each other's cocks and so on."
"Wait, did you do all that with Nand—?" Guillermo asked, but Nadja interrupted him.
"I hunt in the park with you!"
"Yes, but it's more of a guy thing, you see." And Laszlo went into detail about why it was.
Guillermo thought that the topic of his turning was over, but after a few minutes Colin asked, "So when's it gonna happen?"
"Uhh..." The eyes of all the vampires on him made him uncomfortable. "I don't know yet exactly. Soon."
"Are you excited, my boy?" Laszlo asked enthusiastically.
"I'm a little scared, to be honest."
"No need to be! The night my lovely Nadja turned me was one of the best nights of my life! Have I told you?—We fucked the whole night!"
"Yes, you've told us. Multiple times."
"Actually, we pulled the curtains closed and continued fucking through the day," Nadja corrected her husband. "But by then he was getting nauseous from the turning, so it wasn't as much fun."
"But we did get to try out emetophilia!"
Guillermo grimaced.
"I actually know a fun fact about that!" Colin piped up, but he was immediately silenced by everyone present. Sulking, he left the room.
"That's actually one thing I'm worried about," Guillermo picked the topic back up. "Does it... hurt? Or is it just uncomfortable?"
"It doesn't hurt... unfortunately," Laszlo added pointedly. "You feel as if your stomach has turned inside out though."
Guillermo couldn't possibly even begin to imagine how that would feel. "How long does that last?"
"It's different for everyone," Nadja said. "I took care of my baby here, so it was no problem at all," she added, pinching Laszlo lovingly.
"Oh, yes, you took care of me alright..." Laszlo replied in a husky voice, and the two vampires started biting at each other playfully.
Guillermo cleared his throat. "So, anything else I need to know?"
Laszlo placed a wet kiss on Nadja's cheek before facing Guillermo again. "As long as you got something to drink right after, you should be fine."
"So I'll need to hunt?"
"Nah," Nadja said. "Just ask Detlef to bring you a virgin."
"Derek," Guillermo corrected her.
"Who?"
Guillermo shook his head. "I don't even know if he can feed himself properly."
"That's not good," Laszlo said. "You want your turner to be a strong, sexy vampire. That vampire's power is given to you when you turn."
"Nonsense, that's a myth," Nadja interrupted. "But it does form an unbreakable bond with that vampire, so make sure you're ready to feel connected to Daniel for the rest of your immortal life."
"Derek," Guillermo repeated.
"Why do you keep saying that?"
Laszlo laid a gentle hand on Nadja's thigh to shut her up. "It's not a myth," he said to Guillermo, who was close to panicking now. "Turning someone is one of the most intimate things you can do. It is not only incredibly erotic, but the memory will also stay with you forever. It's impossible to forget, though many have tried."
"¡Chingado!" Guillermo slumped down in his seat. "I should never have asked Derek."
"Why don't you ask Nandor?"
"I have." Guillermo started to massage his temples. "Often, for years. He refuses to do it. 'The curse of immortal life' and so on."
"Nandor has been depressed since 1732," Nadja said. "He's not normal in his brain."
"What my darling wife is trying to say, I believe," Laszlo started, "is that he's bored. But if you have someone to spend it with, eternal life is a beautiful thing. Am I not right, dearest?"
Nadja giggled like a teenager and laid her legs over Laszlo's lap, who stroked them gently under her dress.
Guillermo watched for a moment before jumping up hastily and announcing, "Well, I've got work to do."
Doing his chores absentmindedly, every cell in Guillermo's body was on fire.
One of the most intimate things you can do, and Guillermo was planning to do it with a guy so uninteresting that Guillermo couldn't even bring himself to text him.
This had been a terrible decision. He hadn't thought it through. But what else was there to do? If it was all the price to pay for eternal vampiric life, shouldn't Guillermo be jumping at the opportunity?
Maybe, he thought, he could ask Laszlo or Nadja. He's known them for just as long as Nandor, and they're family. But once Nandor found out it would start a lot of trouble, and tearing the household apart just when he finally became a real part of it was the last thing Guillermo wanted to do.
Part of his dream of becoming a vampire was to live in the house as a full-fledged member. He couldn't even imagine living somewhere else, without his friends, for all eternity. He needed Nandor, Laszlo, Nadja, and, yes, Colin Robinson just as much as he needed air. Any life without them would asphyxiate him.
He knew it was a toxic co-dependency that glued them all together. But what else was there to do? Nobody dared to speak it aloud, but the year they spent apart from each other had just made it more clear for all of them that they needed each other. To stay sane. And happy.
But— Something was off about Nandor. He claimed that he was happy now, that he was over the whole thing with Jan and the Wellness center. But Guillermo knew him better than perhaps anyone else, and he could hear him hum the tune of the song that was the manifestation of his humanity and period of true happiness — no matter that it was induced by brainwash. The melody brought Guillermo back to that dim car, with Nandor grabbing the wheel and staring at him with a fire in his eyes that Guillermo hadn't seen in them since.
Now all Nandor did was read. From the moment he awoke to shortly before the first rays of sunlight. Escapism. Living someone else's life.
Guillermo couldn't pretend not to be hurt. But he hadn't forgiven him for Freddie, either.
The agglomeration of all these things they've done to each other and would still do stood between them like an unmovable obstacle, forcing them to live at a distance.
Guillermo hoped bridging the species gap between them would help, not make matters worse. He knew Nandor was unhappy with the idea of Guillermo becoming a vampire, but the reasons were still unclear, and he hoped that his master would change his mind once he got used to it.
Guillermo was cleaning some dried blood off the banisters when he finally came to a decision: He would ask Nandor one last time. If his master said no, Derek would have to do.