Chapter Text
Nandor hears the grunting the evening after their visit to the Night Market. He thinks at first a cave pig has gotten into the house until he realizes cave pigs do not have the ability to say, “yeah, baby, take daddy all the way down your thrussy.” Cave pigs do not live under the stairs. At least, Nandor is fairly certain of that.
Cave pigs may not, but Guillermos definitely do.
When he throws back the curtain, Nandor does not expect Guillermo to yelp and cover himself with his hands like a shy maiden, the arm holding his cellular telephone device flung over a heaving bosom and the other hand moving from a fist to fan over a clearly interested cock. Nandor has never seen Guillermo like this, outside of his frumpy sweaters and businesslike khakis and vests, and in the moment he must admit his familiar-turned-bodyguard-turned-best-man is not entirely unattractive. But that is not the point.
“Guillermo,” he says carefully, “was that you just now?”
Guillermo is blushing furiously, trying to turn over on to his side for modesty before he realizes it puts his ass on full display. Nandor grimaces. It’s even worse than he thought.
“Guillermo.” This time, Nandor’s tone is serious. “Guillermo, you cannot do this. Especially not in the house.”
Guillermo’s mouth opens and the apologies begin to spill out before Nandor raises his hand.
“If Laszlo and Nadja were to hear you and find out that my familiar is so bad at sex, it will reflect badly on me as your master. They will tell everyone. I will have to move to Delaware and live in a bell tower as a shame bat. This is extremely grave, Guillermo.”
Guillermo stares at him now, all words gone, so Nandor continues.
“You will follow me to my crypt — yes, right now, as you are.”
He rolls his eyes as Guillermo swiftly pulls a blanket over himself before getting up. Human modesty, sheesh. So circumstantial and selective. Like Guillermo was not just whacking off for the whole world to hear.
Inside his crypt, Nandor points at an ottoman for Guillermo to sit on, which he does, hesitantly. Nandor sits across from him on a divan, one arm dangling over the edge languorously as he surveys Guillermo, still wrapped in his blanket like a little human burrito.
(Nandor never got to try a burrito before he was turned. They were not native to Al-Quolnadar as they are to Guillermo’s homeland. But he has seen many videos of kittens wrapped up that way and finds them very pleasing, though not appetizing.)
They sit in silence for a minute before Nandor finally speaks, still attempting the serious, professional tone he adopted at the beginning of this episode.
“I know it is called beating your meat, but I do not think you are meant to do so literally, Guillermo.”
Guillermo buries his head in his hands and moans something about a nightmare. Nandor does not need to see his face to know the blood is rushing to it. He continues.
“Is this perhaps the root of why you are so bad at sex?”
Guillermo’s head — face confirmed red like one of those tomato fruits he brings around the house sometimes — snaps up and he opens his mouth as if to argue, but Nandor holds up his hand.
“I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. You may be an okay familiar and a slightly more than okay bodyguard, but when it comes to matters of sex, you are clearly lacking, and as I have said, it reflects poorly on me as your master if you go out in the world like…” He makes a vague gesture with his hand. “Like a pathetic eunuch or something. Or whatever else is bad at sex.”
“Virgins?” Guillermo lets out a half-hysterical laugh.
“Don’t be stupid, Guillermo, virgins can’t be bad at sex. They’ve never had the sex in which to be bad at.” Nandor snorts. “It is desperately clear you need my assistance.”
“What?” Guillermo sounds like someone is strangling him now. Choking his chicken, perhaps. Nandor grins at his own private joke.
“If you are going to be out in the world sticking your dick in things or having dicks stuck in you or however you want to do it, you must do so in a way that does not bring shame to the name of Nandor the Relentless.” A well-placed pause to build anticipation. “I will teach you how to be a sufficient lover.”
Instead of falling to Nandor’s knees and thanking him for his magnanimousness, his generosity, his expertise, Guillermo instead gapes at him like a fish.
“I see you are struck dumb by the honor of having me as your teacher. But I am doing this only for the preservation of my name and nothing more, Guillermo. Do not be getting any ideas.”
Still, no more words from Guillermo, not even a squeak.
“Well, Guillermo, what do you have to say for yourself in response to this offer?”
“I…I have a boyfriend?”
Nandor waits for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, he frowns. “I do not see what he has to do with any of this. This is purely an educational endeavor. And he will thank me too in the end, when you are returned to him as an adequate bedroom partner.” If the supposed boyfriend even exists, which Nandor has his doubts about.
“You can’t be serious about any of this.”
“Enough dilly-dallying around the issue. As your master, I command you to obey me in this. It is a matter of vampiric honor.” Before Guillermo can object again, Nandor points at him and says, “Remove your blanket. It is time for your first lesson.”
As if on instinct, Guillermo begins to remove the blanket around him, but after the reveal of one round, golden shoulder, he stops.
“What are you going to do?” he asks Nandor suspiciously.
The vampire rolls his eyes.
“I am not going to do anything to you, Guillermo.” The second it leaves his mouth, he thinks it might be a mistake, but Nandor does not make mistakes. To prove this, he doubles down. “Upon my honor, I will not molest you.”
Nandor cannot read the expression on Guillermo’s face in response to that, but he allows the blanket to fall to the ottoman.
Nandor has definitely made a mis—no, a tactical error. Guillermo is round and flush and beautiful, cheeks pink from exertion and embarrassment and quite possibly even the intensity of Nandor’s gaze. A treasure hidden underneath those sweaters and vests and stupid human clothing. Nandor suddenly wants nothing more than to touch him.
Fucking honor.
All is not lost, he reminds himself. He can regroup. Tactical errors are reversible with the correct strategy, and if he strategizes correctly, he can have Guillermo begging for his touch.
He crosses his legs, suddenly uncomfortable. Fucking Djinn wish.
“Spread your legs, Guillermo,” he says, coaxing Guillermo like he’s a skittish horse. “Show me what we are working with.
Wordlessly, Guillermo lets his thighs fall open.
It’s not the world’s biggest penis, nor could it be, but Nandor can concede that Guillermo’s cock has its own unique appeal. How proud it is, Nandor thinks, still curved to attention, a bead of precum shivering on the tip. It would be so easy for Nandor to—to do nothing, he reminds himself. He shifts and gestures at Guillermo.
“Go ahead.”
“Go ahead and what?” Guillermo asks.
“I want to see you pleasure yourself.”
Another strangled noise fights its way from Guillermo’s throat.
“You want me to what?”
“Sheesh, Guillermo, are you suddenly deaf or something?” Nandor would stand up and start pacing, but he is no position to uncross his legs and give Guillermo penis envy or whatever. “If you want to know how to best bring pleasure to a lover, you must know first how to bring pleasure to yourself. So show me how you march your soldiers. Polish your helmet. Shine your sword — more of a dagger in your situation but whatever. Prepare to pillage. Whatever you call it.” He waves his have dismissively. “Putting your hand on your penis and getting off.”
But Guillermo barely has his hand curled around his cock before Nandor is tutting at him.
“Where is your technique, Guillermo? You cannot just put your hand on your penis and get off!” Guillermo’s mouth opens to protest but Nandor holds up a finger to stop him. “No wonder you are so poised to bring me shame. You must be gentle with yourself, Guillermo. You must take your time and tease. What fun is the final destination if you do not thoroughly enjoy the journey?” He moves his hand like he is petting a cat. Perhaps one of the burrito kittens. “Do it gently, Guillermo.”
This time, Guillermo lets his fingertips skate over the shaft, and his whole body shudders with his sigh. Nandor can’t help but wonder if his hand is warm from being under the blanket, or if perhaps the slight chill in the crypt has cooled his fingers ever so slightly, as if they’re Nandor’s own hands. This tiniest glimpse into Guillermo’s pleasure is delicious, but not enough to satisfy him.
“Again,” Nandor tells him. “Brush your thumb over the head.”
Guillermo obeys without thinking, eyes closed, lips parted as he makes a noise so lovely Nandor wants to bottle it. He lets his thumb smear the leaking precum over his shaft, glistening in the low firelight, and then repeats the action, a moan now dragging from his lips.
“Yes,” Nandor encourages, the praise nearly a purr as he leans forward. “Show me.”
Guillermo’s fingers dance along the underside of his shaft now, and when he reaches his sack, he lets it sit heavy in his palm before rolling it. The noises from his mouth are higher pitched now as Guillermo begins to take control of his pleasure. Nandor can see the pressure of his fingers, the flick of his wrist as he works his cock, both it and Guillermo nearly weeping with the joy of it. He is so focused on the display of Guillermo’s cock that he almost misses Guillermo’s other hand trace up his stomach to to tweak a beautiful brown nipple to attention.
“Oh fuck,” Guillermo moans, taking the fullness of his breast into his palm and swiping his thumb over the nipple as he finally, finally gives his cock a sheath to fuck. “Fuck.”
“Good, Guillermo,” Nandor tells him, rapt. He can hear the way Guillermo’s blood sings as it pumps through his body, almost as titillating as the desperate cries emitting from Guillermo’s lips. “Make yourself come.”
Nandor likes to think that it’s his focused gaze that makes Guillermo climax when his eyes snap open to look at his…Master? Teacher? Whatever he is. He watches those human eyes go wide right before Guillermo’s mouth and cock spill out the final pleasure, filling the room with the sounds and smells of sex.
He watches Guillermo as he catches his breath and uses the blanket to wipe himself clean before self-consciously covering himself again.
When Guillermo clears his throat, Nandor realizes that he has been staring and jolts. Fuck.
“Well,” Nandor says, clapping his hands together and faking the most normal tone he can. “That was certainly adequate. But you are still much too loud, Guillermo. You cannot always shake the walls like a banshee in heat.” Again, Guillermo looks suddenly indignant in his afterglow. Ungrateful as ever. “We will work on that tomorrow evening—if you still wish to be taught, that is.”
Guillermo blinks, seemingly taken aback by the question.
“Y-yeah,” he finally says, still half-breathless. “Yeah, I want to do this again. ”
Nandor suddenly feels like he has the upper hand again.
“Very good, Guillermo. I will see you tomorrow, then. You are dismissed.”
Guillermo leaves in a confused silence, the blanket barely concealing the curve of his ass as he exits the crypt. What is it the human song says? Love to watch him walk away? Or maybe it’s one of Laszlo’s songs. It’s irrelevant.
By the time Nandor is done teaching Guillermo, he will be a more than adequate lover, even if he is only making love to himself by the light of the cellular telephone box. And if he chooses to perhaps practice some lessons with Nandor? Nandor would be a terrible teacher to refuse.
For now, though, he thinks as he uncrosses his legs and rises uncomfortably from his seat, he has a personal matter to take care of.