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#i have sooooo many nearly finished of partially finished Things andd i just wanna. get some of them Out.
dont-offend-the-bees · 11 months
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When He Comes Around (My Feet Don't Touch the Ground)
In which Nandor sleeps upside down like a bat and the author somehow uses this very silly premise as an excuse to be disgustingly sappy
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I'm digging through some drafts and WIPs atm and I found this silly lil thing nearly finished, so I added a few more words and gave it a quick spit polish and here it is! Hardly a masterpiece but now it's out of my WIP file xD
Anyway, this literally came about bc I thought it would be funny if Nandor slept upside down, and then I accidentally got a bit cute and feels-y with it. Each small section is a different timeskip, so section one is like season one -- the simple familiar!Guillermo days -- section two is like, season 4 where the Colin plot is happening but the Nandor's wives plot isn't, or something. Basically a s4 where they're actually *not* being total dummies about their feelings. (I know. Unrealistic.) And section three is in the futurrrreeee but not with any mind to being season 5 compliant bc I wrote most of it before then. They are far too emotionally intelligent in this fic but what do you expect from a 2k-ish bubble of fluff.
Anyway, hope you like!
*
“Master?” Guillermo knocks gingerly, voice soft and welcoming. If he doesn’t ease Nandor out of his slumber gently, he’ll be bitchy all night. “Master, it’s nightfall.”
No answer. Guillermo takes a deep breath, and carefully nudges the door open, slipping into the darkened crypt like a shadow.
He calls out a couple more times, keeping his voice soft as he flits around lighting candles. He’s done a full circuit of the room before he gets any response: a quiet creak creeps under the closet door, followed by a low groan. “Guillermo? It feels early…”
“Days are getting shorter,” says Guillermo, apologetic. As if the relative distance of the sun and the earth is his fault, somehow. He’ sure Nandor could find a way to blame him for it somehow. He walks over to the closet door. “If you want we could set a time for the rest of the winter, I mean, you don’t have to be up all night. Ready, Master?”
“Yes, I am ready.”
Guillermo tugs the closet door open, squinting into the dark beyond as his soft candlelight creeps into the shadowed nook. It always takes his eyes a second to adjust; to pick out the details of his Master beyond the vague outline of a large, gently swaying object dangling from the ceiling.
Nandor blinks in the light, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth in a grumpy frown. His long, dark hair hangs straight down from his head, nearly brushing the floor as he peers at Guillermo upside-down, arms crossed tightly over his chest. With his legs hooked over a metal bar near the ceiling, his face dangles a few feet above the floor– and Guillermo sinks easily down to one knee. His master hates it when he ‘looms’ in the morning. The full weight of Nandor’s sleepy gaze lands upon Guillermo’s face as he comes within eye level.
“Good morning, Master,” says Guillermo, smiling as he tugs the door open wider.
Nandor squints his eyes and yawns like a cat before he answers in kind. “Good morning, Guillermo.”
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, for a very short while,” Nandor grumbles, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. “Eeesh. Daylight savings. I do not understand it.”
“It’s to do with the sun, Master,” says Guillermo, shuffling back and bracing himself in position with one hand extended and the other planted on the doorframe. “And the way we revolve round it.”
Nandor snorts in amusement. “Ah, Guillermo, clearly you are not a man of science. The sun goes around us.”
Guillermo bites his lip. “Of course, Master. Ready to get up?”
Humming, Nandor reaches out to take Guillermo’s offered hand. Once safely anchored he drops, flips round and lands gracefully on his feet with that strange vampiric control over gravity he has, bare toes sinking into the plush carpets piled at the bottom of the closet. Now he’s the one looming, arcing high into the air over Guillermo on his bended knee, an imposing figure even in the soft white drapes of his sleeping clothes. Like he’s a flawless greek statue, carved worshipfully from marble; and Guillermo is praying at his feet.
But the hand in his own isn’t marble, pale and cold though it may be. And the way it clings to Guillermo’s a few breaths longer before releasing him feels too human to be godly.
*
Guillermo’s gaze wanders around the crypt, quiet and curious. He’s been in here, of course, many times. But it’s funny how being relieved of his familiar duties has drastically cut down on his time spent in Nandor’s space. Several candles have burnt down and not been replaced yet and there’s a pile of long-overdue laundry, but otherwise it’s surprising how not-messy it is. But then, Nandor’s always been a bit of a neat freak; he just got complacent for a while with someone else to do the cleaning for him.
“Ah, yes, I have been meaning to do those,” Nandor gestures to the pile, and it may be Guillermo’s imagination but he seems embarrassed. “With the help of the all-knowing Google I discovered a local washerwoman; she has the machines and the dry cleaning, and she stays open very late. I meant to go today but the nights, they are so short…”
“Daylight savings strikes again,” Guillermo jokes softly, crossing over to the pile. “I can do it.”
“You do not have to –”
“No, it’s– it’s fine. I mean, not all the time. But you’re right; nights are short right now, and the days are, uh, long. Real long. I don’t mind running to the dry cleaners for you.”
Nandor regards him with a flash of vulnerability softening his eyes; his hands stay clasped sweetly in front of his chest. “Thank you, Guillermo.” Clearing his throat, he reaches for the clasp on his cloak. “I suppose it is time to turn in.”
Guillermo politely turns his back while Nandor disrobes, running his fingers along the mantelpiece. It’s a little dusty; maybe he should get Nandor one of those handheld vacuums to help him keep on top of it. Another tentative throat-clear has him turning round shortly, finding Nandor in his soft sleep clothes, his clothes from the day held gingerly in front of him in a neat pile. Guillermo smiles and takes them, adding them to the rest.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nandor hesitates, then adds after a minute’s deliberation: “And you.”
Guillermo’s heart does some kind of tap dance. “Yeah, you better,” he jokingly deflects.
“You should go and do something fun; while you are out,” says Nandor. “Take advantage of the long day.”
“I’ve gotta be around for Colin.”
“Perhaps you could take him with you? If he is awake. The boy is a daywalker, too; he should have the chance to play in the sun.”
There’s something so wistful in Nandor’s voice it almost brings a tear to Guillermo’s eye. He nods. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”
Nandor nods. “I hope the two of you will have fun. I would join you; if it would not burn me to little vampire crisps.”
“Maybe we’ll go to the dog park. I’ll take pictures for you.”
“That would be nice.” Backing up to his closet, Nandor turns and hooks his hands over the doorframe, swinging his legs up and casually defying gravity to hook his knees over the bar. Releasing the frame, he swings into position, long hair dangling, upside-down eyes regarding Guillermo warmly across the room.
A small laugh breaks free. It’s been so long since Guillermo’s been around to see Nandor’s ridiculous nightly routine. He’s actually missed it. He steps closer, brushing his hands over the expensive, ornate coffin that Nandor never uses because he prefers to be upside down, for some goddamn reason. Guillermo remembers fondly the day Nandor admitted to him that his finds being cooped up flat in the casket uncomfortable. Guillermo had gone all around the house, collecting up blankets and furs and rugs, treating everything moth-eaten and then drowning out the chemical smell in oils and scents he knew Nandor loved. He remembered installing the strongest chin-up bar he could find in that closet, as high as he could make it go without cutting off leg room, remembers lining the floor and walls with every soft and luxurious thing he’d found. But most of all he remembers Nandor’s face when he’d showed him; for all of Nandor’s little smiles and laughs he’d seen in his time serving, he thinks that’s the first time he’d ever had one directed at him. Stepping over, Guillermo leans on the doorframe and takes a peek inside, looking at the little nest he’d built with his own two hands.
A new addition to the soft wall hangings catches his eye. He raises his eyebrow. “That’s new.”
Nandor’s eyes flick to the very familiar green sweater. He looks back sheepishly. “Yes, well. You left it lying around. It is soft.”
“Looks good.”
Nandor relaxes minutely, hands clasped again. “Between you and me; I am thinking that this space is a little too small, these days. What if someone wants to sleep over?”
Biting back a smile, Guillermo feels the wall through the soft drapes, crouching to get a feel of the join where it meets the floor. “Hmm. guess you may be able to knock out one of these walls, extend the space a little. I can help.”
“Thank you, Guillermo.”
Guillermo feels the words tickle across his cheek, and that’s about how he realises his exploration has brought him in barely a few inches from Nandor’s upside down face. He has an up close view of Nandor’s dark, bright eyes, his furrowing brow, the pinch of his sharp canine as it bites his lip.
And then a hand alights on Guillermo’s cheek, right where the thanks did just seconds ago.
“Thank you,” says Nandor once more, soft. “For everything you do.”
He draws him close, and Guillermo goes; still on his knees, but now his beautiful god is praying back.
*
“Guillermo?”
“Nandor.”
“You are on my side of the closet.”
Guillermo opens one eye to peer at Nandor, incredulous. “...Seriously?”
Nandor tsks, wiggling his toes in the thick, plush pile of the rug. “I always sleep on the right side, Guillermo!”
“It only has sides because I helped you expand it.”
“Yes, and I like the right one!”
Guillermo clicks his tongue. He likes the right side, too – mainly because it was the side directly by the closet door, and years of protecting his former master from vampire assassins had him pretty geared towards placing himself in the vulnerable position. But then again, he and Nandor had a lot more of the same biological advantages and disadvantages than they used to these days. Rolling his eyes, Guillermo shuffle his knees, edging along the pole into the dark nook of the newly exposed left side of the closet. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you get murdered first.”
Nandor scoffs. “If anyone is foolish enough to intrude on our slumber, Guillermo, I think it will be them who is murdered first.” He smiles brightly when Guillermo finishes his shuffling. “Thank you. I’m coming innnnn!”
Guillermo laughs as Nandor swings himself onto the bar. Jeez, he’d married a dork. For fucking eternity. “Okay, okay. Get the door, mi vida?”
With a wave of Nandor’s hand, the door swings shut with a quiet click, another wave sliding the heavy precautionary deadbolt. Guillermo still needs him to teach him how to do that.
“Alone at last,” says Nandor in a low voice.
Guillermo bites his lip and shuffles a little closer to Nandor’s side, until he can press their hips together. “Uh oh. I know that tone.”
Nandor chuckles softly, and in the darkness Guillermo feels a soft, dry kiss press to his cheek. “Hmm. Maybe later; I am tired. It has been a long night.”
So is Guillermo, honestly. It has been a long night, and a cold one – where the hell are the sprawling days of summer when you need them? Fucking daylight savings. But he gives Nandor a teasing prod in the side anyway. “You’re getting old.”
“And don’t you be forgetting it,” says Nandor, haughty and self-important. But in their cosy, homey dark his arms wrap around Guillermo to tuck him in close, his voice ducking just low enough for Guillermo’s vampiric ears alone to catch. “But you keep me young.”
*
Thanks for reading <3 If you wanna chuck me a comment/reblog I'll love you forever
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