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Back when Guillermo had first started working for Nandor, he’d almost passed out a couple times. He hadn’t been weak as a teenager, exactly, so much as he’d had to learn how to plan his entire life around three vampires’ somewhat erratic schedules. None of them had thought to give him breaks — mostly because they were kind of assholes, but also because, lacking gastric systems of their own, they didn’t have to worry about little things like extended bathroom breaks.
Or eating food.
Guillermo had learned fairly quickly that, as obsessed as his vampires were with feeding, they didn’t really think about the fact that their human familiars had to eat human food. The first few days had been nothing but back-breaking labor interspersed with Guillermo trying to get a couple minutes away to make some ramen or something. But Nandor had just kept calling him back for some nonsense or another until — well, Guillermo had learned the hard way that if he didn’t take care of his body, time would eventually collect.
These days, Guillermo had become accustomed to large meals before and after the vampires woke up, because he knew for a fact that they wouldn’t appreciate him taking time away from them every day for something as pedestrian as eating. He kept some snacks on him to top things off, but generally? He ate while the vampires were asleep.
His snacking became a little more regular and a little less furtively shoving an energy bar in his face once Nandor had agreed to give him regular breaks, but it still hadn’t really been enough time for a full meal. Besides, after so many years of keeping the eating schedule he had, it would feel kind of odd to take a full hour to himself to cook and eat a meal during the night.
Still, though. The best-laid plans and the best-kept schedules were always subject to accidents.
Guillermo, to put it plainly, had overslept. He’d been too exhausted the previous night to remember to set his alarm and, well, clearly he’d needed the sleep. But he’d woken up as the last rays of sun were dying in the sky, and he could already hear the house beginning to stir.
“Shit,” he said, sitting bolt upright in his shitty little bed. “Shit.”
In the end, he hadn’t managed to eat anything before he’d found himself standing beside his master’s coffin, and he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that felt an awful lot like hunger.
This was going to end poorly.
I just have to make it four hours, he told himself. Then he’d have a fifteen-minute break and, well, it wasn’t enough for a full meal, but it was something.
The first hour or so wasn’t so bad. That was just waking up Nandor and getting him ready for the night. The second hour was… harder. Today was a cleaning day, and he had even more to do since he hadn’t been able to get started on it during the day. And scrubbing floors, as it turned out, wasn’t easy to do on an empty stomach.
By the time hour three had rolled around, Guillermo was starting to get lightheaded.
“Guillermo!”
“Hmm?” Guillermo blinked. “What?” Shit. He’d zoned out again.
“You are not listening to me,” Nandor said, crossness starting to drift into his voice, and that was never a good sign. A neglected Nandor quickly became a petulant one, and Guillermo was not in the mood to deal with that.
“Sorry, Master, I just—” Guillermo bit down on his lower lip, annoyed at himself for already saying more than he’d meant to.
Nandor turned toward him, eyebrows raised. “You just what?”
Oh. Definitely getting petulant.
“It’s nothing,” Guillermo said, and Nandor frowned. Fuck.
Nandor just looked at him then, measuringly, and Guillermo could suddenly feel the space between them like a tangible thing. There was knowledge there, and secrets, and a thousand things that had gone unsaid over the years. Nandor looked at him like a puzzle that he was finally trying to figure out, and Guillermo was not sure if he was feeling distance or closeness.
Nandor was wary, Guillermo realized. Now that he knew the big secret (one of them, one of them), every little secret was being looked at with suspicion. But this wasn’t anything like Guillermo’s bloodline, or the way that a wooden stake had felt at home in his hand the moment it had closed around it. This wasn’t a secret soaked in blood and mystery. He was just—
“I’m just hungry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t have time to eat before you woke up.”
Nandor relaxed, and so did Guillermo. He hated the way that things felt drawn tight like a bow between the two of them now. He liked it much better when Nandor looked at him the way he was now, with a sort of fond exasperation. “So eat, then.”
Guillermo blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
Nandor just looked at him like he was saying something very stupid, and that wasn’t one of Guillermo’s favorite expressions. “Eat. That’s what humans do when they are hungry, yes?”
“Yes,” Guillermo said slowly, “but my break isn’t for another hour and a half.”
Nandor just rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion at Guillermo with his hand. “You’re no use to me now like this,” he said. “Go eat.”
There was something in the way he stood, though, a sort of discomfort. A stiffness.
Oh, Guillermo realized, and understanding hit him like a rush of warmth. He’s trying to be nice.
“Okay…” Guillermo said slowly, watching the way that Nandor’s lips twitched up at the sides. “Thank you.”
He turned away from him then, not sure quite what to make of that look in Nandor’s dark eyes. This was new between them. Kindness. Nandor had been trying, the past few months, and Guillermo knew it.
What was harder to pin down was why, Guillermo thought as he emptied some leftover soup into a pot. Nandor was making an effort, that much was obvious, and Guillermo couldn’t deny the way that it made his stomach flutter when Nandor looked at him like that. Probing. Thoughtful. Like he was interested.
No one had found Guillermo interesting for a very long time, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the newfound attention. It felt — it felt good to be looked at like that. To be seen. Guillermo felt like he’d been forcing down who he really was for so long that it was like a breath of fresh air to actually be himself for once. Wholly himself. And to let everyone around him know what that meant.
No more biting back retorts for fear of a quelling look. No more making himself small so someone else could look large. No more hiding that he could kill every single person in this house if he so chose.
No more pretending he didn’t have power.
And ironically, the more he used that power in front of Nandor, the less he felt like he had to. It had been such a secret for so long, filling him up and consuming every part of him, that it had felt huge when he’d finally told them what he was. What he’d done. But every time he protected them now, it felt a little smaller. A little more comfortably contained within his skin.
Guillermo felt less need to show off his abilities these days. He could still remember that pleased satisfaction in Nandor’s eyes when they’d looked at each other after pulling off their con at the casino. The way he’d ceded control to Guillermo so easily during the hunt for the Sire.
Guillermo flushed slightly as he stirred the pot. Maybe he felt less need to prove himself these days because he already had. At least to the only person who really mattered.
“What are you making?”
Guillermo jumped, almost upending the pot and all its contents on the stove. It was only well-honed reflexes that saved him from making a truly enormous mess. “Shit!”
When he turned, Nandor had only raised an eyebrow at him. He was leaning against the doorway now, looking very out of place in a room that the vampires almost never entered themselves. Why would they? A vampire had no need for a kitchen. This room had been entirely Guillermo’s domain for almost twelve years.
There was an air of curiosity about him now, though, like he’d just remembered that this room existed in his house and he was eager to see what went on in it.
Guillermo had to suppress his sigh. God save him from curious vampires. “Um. I’m just warming up some soup. I made it a couple days ago when you were sleeping.”
Guillermo had learned to make foods in batches over the years. Some days he had more time to cook than others, depending on how many chores he had to get done before the vampires woke up, and it was always good to have leftovers on hand for a quick dinner.
“Soup?”
“Yeah, um…” Guillermo sighed. “It’s when you put a bunch of meat and vegetables in a pot and—”
“I know what soup is, Guillermo.”
There was a little line of irritation in Nandor’s voice now, and Guillermo had to resist the urge to hunch his shoulders. That was something the old Guillermo would have done. Now he forced himself to stand with his back straight and think back over the conversation. Ah. Nandor had been asking him what kind of soup he’d been making.
“It’s just chicken,” he said. “I doctored it up a little to give it some more flavor, but…”
“Oh?” Nandor asked, and when Guillermo glanced back over his shoulder, he looked genuinely interested. Hmm.
“Yeah. Chicken on its own is a little boring, so I usually throw in some vegetables, some beans, some spices, a can of fire-roasted tomatoes to give it some flavor…” Guillermo trailed off, sensing a change in Nandor’s general demeanor. He took the soup, now warm enough to eat, off the burner and set it to the side so he could turn around and take a look at Nandor.
There was a tenseness to him, an almost longing in those too-intense eyes of his, and Guillermo realized all at once why Nandor never set foot in their kitchen.
“But it’s not that good,” Guillermo lied. It was actually one of his favorites, but Nandor didn’t need to know that. It must have been hard enough to watch humans eat food knowing that he could not; Guillermo didn’t have to rub it in.
Nandor didn’t seem to be fooled, though. He just shook his head and frowned. “Guillermo,” he said reprovingly, and again Guillermo had to fight the urge to be, well, reproved.
“Okay, fine,” Guillermo said, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “It’s really good.”
Nandor sighed. “I suppose it would be,” he mused. “You used to work at a soup kitchen.”
“Soup restaurant,” Guillermo corrected automatically. “I’m surprised you remembered that.”
The words were out before Guillermo could think better of them, and he regretted them instantly. Something like hurt flitted across Nandor’s face, and Guillermo could tell that he’d insulted him.
“I listen to you when you talk,” Nandor said, then paused, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Guillermo agreed, a little more dryly than was kind.
Nandor’s frown deepened. “Hey, I listen to you a lot!”
And that, Guillermo had to admit that was kind of true these days. There were a few times he’d felt Nandor’s gaze so keenly on him that it was almost uncomfortable lately, and he’d fairly soaked in Guillermo’s words. But old habits died hard, Guillermo thought, remembering Nandor leaving right when he’d been about to—
Right when he’d been about to say something important.
Guillermo cleared his throat, trying to get ahead of the lump that was threatening to form there. “That’s true,” he finally said. “Um. Lately.”
Nandor nodded firmly, like something had been decided between them. “And I remember taking you from Panera Bread,” he said. Then, more softly, “You were being wasted there.”
Guillermo just stared at him for a second, eyes wide, before he blinked quickly and turned around again so he could plate his dinner. That was sweet of Nandor, really — and wasn’t that a weird thing to think — but Guillermo wasn’t sure if it was true.
His life was different now. Far more interesting. And Guillermo had learned things about himself that he’d never even dreamed could be true. But vampires weren’t everything — an even weirder thing to think — and he’d questioned a lot over the last couple years if leaving had really been the smartest decision.
“I’m a really good baker,” Guillermo said quietly, looking down at his soup. “Did you know that?”
“No?” Guillermo could hear the confusion in Nandor’s voice, and, well, that made sense. There wasn’t much call to bake in a vampire’s house.
“I still do it sometimes, you know. When you guys are asleep,” Guillermo continued. That made up a large percentage of what he snacked on during the day, in fact. His banana nut muffins were to die for.
Nandor didn’t say anything for a minute, and Guillermo could feel that odd, heavy gaze on his back. Then, “Do you miss it? Working in a bakery?”
Guillermo shrugged. “It wasn’t really a real bakery,” he admitted. “We didn’t make our own dough.”
But he’d thought about it sometimes. Maybe going to work in a real one. It had seemed like a pretty good idea, before he’d realized that vampires were real and that he could enter their world. Then he’d gone to work for Nandor, and until very recently, he’d never looked back.
“Still.”
Guillermo nodded. “Still.” He turned around, bowl of soup in hand, intending to sit at the small, rickety table they had in there. It was good enough for just one.
“Guillermo,” Nandor said, putting a gentle hand to Guillermo’s elbow, and shit, when had he managed to get so close?
Guillermo did notsqueak, though it was a very close thing. He couldn’t quite hold back his sharp intake of breath, though, and he could feel his hands trembling around the bowl. He put it down on the table, mindful of who’d have to clean up the mess if he dropped it, and swallowed hard. “What?”
“You’re good at a lot of things, aren’t you?” Nandor asked, and fuck, Guillermo never knew what to do with those eyes, calculation couched in softness, deep and dark and frustratingly unknowable. It was the expression Nandor wore when he was learning him, and as resentful as Guillermo was that it had taken him over a decade to start… better late than never, right?
Guillermo felt like he’d been grasping at crumbs for years and years and years, absolutely desperate for Nandor’s affection and approval. It wasn’t until he’d almost given up on it that Nandor had finally started looking at him with those measuring, wondering eyes.
He’d spent so long chasing after Nandor’s power. After Nandor’s teeth. Maybe that was why Nandor had spent so long ignoring him. It wasn’t until Guillermo had found his own power, had learned to use his own weapons, that Nandor had finally started to notice him. Until he’d finally started to notice who’d been standing at his side all along.
They were both learning him, Guillermo realized. Who he was. What he stood for. What he was capable of. What he was good at.
Guillermo swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold Nandor’s gaze heavy with his own. “Yeah. I am.”
Nandor didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those stupid unknowable eyes of his, and then he smiled. It was a little a hesitant, a little unsure, but a smile all the same. “Then we’re lucky to have you, aren’t we?”
Guillermo breathed in quick. That was… He almost ducked his eyes. Almost looked away, humble and deferent and all the things he’d used to be. But he didn’t. He just looked at those eyes, dark and soft and sweet, and allowed himself to think about how beautiful they were. Every single moment they’d been trained on him, they’d been beautiful.
Guillermo looked at his unassuming little bowl of soup then, and he wondered. God. Would he be able to give Nandor a taste of it if he let him kiss it from his tongue? What would Nandor do if Guillermo pulled him close one of these days, kissed him exactly like he’d always wanted to in all of his most forbidden fantasies? How would those eyes of his react to Guillermo’s last big secret?
Guillermo wasn’t sure, and that was enough reason right there not to do it. But if you’d asked him a year ago, he would have been sure — sure that things would end very, very badly. So maybe not being sure was a step up. A step forward.
Maybe one day—
Guillermo cut that thought off at the quick. Not today. Of that much, at least, he was sure. But still. Still.
He let his fingers brush against Nandor’s as he moved to pull back his chair, and then he paused. Considered. “Do you want me to go get another chair?” Guillermo asked, quiet.
Nandor’s head jerked up, and Guillermo watched as he blinked back surprise. But then, then… Something sweet took its place. “I’d like that,” Nandor said, his voice gone low and pleased and a little wondering.
And Guillermo smiled.