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“Well that was a bust,” Guillermo grumbled as he removed his coat and placed it on the hanger. The February chill only got worse the longer he was aware he could still feel it.
Nandor crossed yet another idea off in his notepad and strode through the foyer straight to the library, brows furrowed in concentration. Guillermo hated when Nandor got so in his own head that he had to chase him around the house, especially when it meant he tracked snow through the hallway that he would have to clean up later, but he couldn't complain knowing he was just trying to help him.
The two of them had spent all week interviewing various immortal creatures to find an alternative to vampirism that would require less killing. When Guillermo rejected his vampirism months before, Nandor cracked off-hand that maybe he wanted to be something else, and when Guillermo didn't immediately shoot the notion down, Nandor threw himself into researching and contacting every supernatural entity he could find.
At first Guillermo found it exciting; meeting all these different types of immortals, talking to them about their experiences, their powers, what makes them unique. Witches were intriguing and probably the easiest option, but it was a pretty female-dominated field and required way too much semen handling for Guillermo’s taste. Wizards and warlocks were much the same, but would take a lot more studying that Guillermo simply didn't have the patience for. Orcs, funnily enough, were charming and honestly kind of attractive, but not only would it require some sort of curse to become one, but Guillermo quite liked the way he looked and didn't feel super comfortable changing his appearance that drastically. The Fae were about as stuck up and confusing as one would imagine, and not super interested in revealing their secrets to immortality, so that visit led nowhere except for Nandor almost losing his name to the first fae to greet them.
Tonight, though, they had arranged a rendezvous with the very pack of werewolves that they had feuded with over Gail, which went about as disastrously as it could have. Luckily, Gail wasn't present, but the pack was far from helpful and Nandor needed to be talked down from a panic attack halfway through thanks to the constant insults slung at the two of them. Still, despite it all, Nandor was determined to show Guillermo his options, and Guillermo made sure to tell Nandor that he appreciated it.
But all the appreciation in the world couldn’t change the fact that their choices for a cruelty-free immortality were running thin.
“There has to be something we're missing,” Nandor whined to himself, pacing the library and tapping his pen to his chin. Guillermo dodged his master's mindless wandering and made his way to the couch. “You already said being a ghost was too unpredictable, so that's out… Perhaps you could be a zombie?”
Guillermo remembered the all too recent dead-eyed looks of Derek and Topher and shuddered. “And become a grumbling, brainless mass of flesh that's barely held together? No thanks.”
The vampire scribbled violently on his notepad and grunted as he sat down beside Guillermo. Half a second later, he began bouncing his leg like a restless child. Guillermo could easily imagine him using that kind of intensity when planning battles hundreds of years ago. It almost felt wrong for Nandor to strain himself this much for his sake.
“No wraiths, no animal transformations, no fairy tale creatures,” Nandor listed, growing in frustration. “You are very picky, you know that?”
Guillermo tried to tell himself it was just the stress that made him yell like that, but dammit, he was stressed too. “Well sorry for not wanting to make the same stupid mistake about my eternal afterlife again!” He could feel more venom bubbling up in his throat, more bile he could spit if he really felt like it, but there was no point. Instead, he sank into the couch and buried his head into his hands. His options and emotions were exhausted. A soft hiccup escaped between his palms.
As Nandor sat helplessly next to him, his mind raced. Was this his fault? Had he scared the human off with his constant complaining about the burdens of immortality? Had he let his formerly ferocious bodyguard go soft? Had he missed some obscure creature in his research that Guillermo would enjoy spending eternity as? Could Guillermo enjoy eternity, or did all of his stringing along get his hopes up? Great, now he was contradicting himself. Classic Nandor, not even being sure of his own insecurities. Guillermo should just move on and enjoy whatever life he has left instead of spending it with–
A weight came down tenderly on Nandor’s shoulder and snuggled into his cape. Even through the multiple layers, he could feel the tears soaking through. Without looking down, the vampire responded by gingerly wrapping his hand around his companion’s and burying his cheek in the dark curls brushing against it.
“Master,” the smaller man squeaked, his voice raspy as if he had just woken up, “Why are you helping me? I mean, you never even tried to turn me.”
Nandor scoffed. “I did, you little rascal, remember?”
“Right, the trip. I still don’t even know if you actually meant it.” He sounded bitter, but the wetness of before was gone. Guillermo’s competitive streak had apparently taken precedence over his self pity for a moment.
“I did mean it, I swear!” He tried to continue being gentle, but it came out more petulant. “Fucking Laszlo.”
Guillermo hummed, a small smile peeking through the fabric of Nandor’s cloak. “Fucking Laszlo.”
Nandor squeezed Guillermo’s hand and shifted so that his chin and lips disappeared into the dark hair of the other man, almost as if he could mask what he was about to say by having his mouth covered. “To answer your first question,” he mumbled, deep voice vibrating through Guillermo’s skull, “I am helping you because I care about you. And…”
Guillermo felt the vampire gulp against his forehead. His heart was beating so fast and loud that he could swear he could hear Nandor’s beating as well. “And…?”
“And… I do not want to lose you, Guillermo. Not to death, or disinterest, or to someone else. I want to be a part of your future, and you a part of mine.”
Guillermo pulled away and turned his wide-eyed gaze up to meet Nandor’s. It looked as if each word was the most painful, serious, and genuine that he had ever said. Their hands clasped even tighter around each other.
“Immortal life is a curse, my dear Guillermo,” Nandor continued, “and I stand by that. I had no choice in the matter. If I had the one I am giving you, perhaps I would have chosen differently. Maybe I would have been a werewolf.” The two giggled, a brief relief from the tension of the moment. “But, given that it is not my choice, I would like to at least have a hand in deciding who will accompany me into the long unknown of eternity. If that is what you still choose, of course.”
The human couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He felt dizzy, as if decades of yearning and fantasizing had finally come to fruition. If he wasn’t in the midst of an existential crisis, he would have pulled Nandor’s fangs into his neck right at that moment. Instead, he just stared wordlessly into the pitch of the vampire’s lovesick eyes.
Nandor cleared his throat and straightened his spine slightly. Even through the obliviousness and posturing, he was aware of the gravity of the upcoming question. “Guillermo de la Cruz, I want you to answer me honestly: Why is it that you want to be immortal?”
Guillermo blinked. He always thought the answer was so obvious. He wanted the power, the confidence, the infinite time to do whatever he wanted… What mortal doesn’t want to live forever? But as he looked back on the fifteen years he’d spent in the company of immortals, on his brief stint as the very thing he sought, he realized that fewer and fewer of those obvious reasons were accurate. The vampires didn’t have some inherent power; they had supernatural abilities, sure but they still lived in the background and cowered under bureaucracy just like humans did. He didn’t become inherently more confident in himself as a vampire, and the others that he knew were just as needy and insecure as any of the humans they looked down on were. And the infinite time… well, Nandor had repeatedly made that seem pretty horrible, even if being able to spend centuries avoiding any uncomfortable feelings sounded pretty great as a repressed ex-Catholic. If anything, being immortal made the vampires he knew worse off than if they had lived normal lives.
But then, his eyes caught once again on the stoic, waiting expression of the vampire in front of him. The vampire that had gone through all that effort in the hope that he wouldn’t leave. If he kept on as a human, he would be leaving him behind. He would never feel Nandor’s hefty laugh shake the house or his freshly brushed hair through his fingers or his cold, calloused hands holding his ever again if he was six feet under. He would never feel the sun on his skin as a vampire, sure, but he would never feel the warmth of Nandor’s gaze for the rest of time as a mortal.
And not just him, the whole house. The family that he had built for himself over the last decade and a half. He’d never be able to protect them, or see what crazy antics they got up to in a hundred years, or help raise Colin Robinson when he inevitably regenerated again, or hear which of Laszlo’s songs became pop hits in a few centuries, or see Nadja rise the ranks of whatever girlboss scheme she found herself running in another few decades, or remind everyone to include The Guide in their mischief. He felt like a little kid who didn’t want to get out of the pool on a hot summer day, even if his fingers were beginning to look like raisins. He couldn’t leave. Not yet.
And the worst part was that he knew Nandor felt the same. The ache in his chest told him Nandor wouldn’t live much longer after he left. He couldn’t stomach the thought.
Maybe Nandor was right.
Guillermo filled his lungs as if preparing for his last breath. “I want to be immortal because… Because I don’t want to lose you either.” His face flushed at the subtle rise of Nandor’s eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t want to lose anyone. Nadja, Laszlo, Colin, The Guide… You guys are my family, and I don’t want to be the first one gone. You guys make me want to keep going, even as a mortal. And I would do anything to keep that from ending.” He placed his free hand over Nandor’s cheek and felt a slight purr when he brushed his thumb across his coal-black whiskers. “I want to keep going because I’ll know I won’t have to say goodbye to you until it all goes dark.”
Nandor’s eyes twisted in a moment from wholly lost in yearning to a familiar tease, as if the opportunity for a joke had flipped a switch in his head. “Or someone fucks up and it all goes light.”
“Shit, you’re morbid,” Guillermo snarked back, softening his face again as he noticed the fear returning to the age lines around Nandor’s eyes. He was always so easy to read when he was worried about something. “My point is, I don’t care what I become anymore. As long as I can follow you into that ‘long, mysterious forever’ or whatever you said.”
“‘Long unknown of eternity,’” Nandor corrected.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Nandor lowered his glance to their intertwined hands, his own beginning to fidget absentmindedly between Guillermo’s fingers. “Are you sure about this?”
“Mostly.”
“‘Mostly’ isn't sure, Guillermo.”
“I'm sure of why, if that helps.” He reiterated the hand resting on Nandor’s cheek by brushing a stray strand of hair from his temple and smoothing it down to his beard. “If vampirism really is my best option, we can figure something out. I can just, I don’t know, only drink leftovers or something. As long as it means an eternity with you, I'll put up with reheated blood from tupperwares for a while.”
Nandor sighed into Guillermo’s palm. “You shouldn't have to do that.”
“And you didn't have to go with me to confront the werewolves that broke your heart again, but we all make sacrifices for love.”
A beat passed before either realized what Guillermo had said. “ Love,” Nandor repeated. Shit, that's what it was, wasn't it? Decades of complicated motivations and feelings boiled down into one word. The whole time, it was right there, so close it would have smacked him in the face. It had just never felt real to either of them before that moment, due to repression or denial or just plain obliviousness. They had both made a habit out of avoiding it, convincing themselves they would deal with it in a few decades, centuries even if possible. But now, here it was, staring them in the face, cupping their hands, leaning in slowly, brushing their nose, closing the gap…
…And in an instant, eternal life seemed a little less scary.