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It was the last straw. The last sock, if you wanted to be more specific.
Guillermo had a long standing beef with the household laundry machines, two dusty old things that he used for his own clothes, and the few garments the vampires wore that weren’t dry-clean only. Mostly socks. The washer ate socks like they were potato chips, and Guillermo usually hand-washed his favorite pairs as a result. But today, he saw the edges of the cute little rainbow ones his cousin Tina had bought him stuck inside the grooves at the bottom of the drum of the top loading washer, and nearly kicked the stupid thing in frustration.
The machine was deep, and the sock was stuck tight in the gap between the agitator and the drum. He could reach in with one arm and grab the edge, but no amount of tugging would free it without risking it tearing. He grunted and switched arms, trying to nudge his fingers into the gap to pry it loose. That didn’t work either.
“Guillermo? What are you doing?”
Guillermo smiled as he heard Nandor’s lilting tones behind him, leaning farther into the drum. “Just getting some laundry done, master,” he answered. “You need anything?”
“No,” Nandor said. “I just... wondered where you were.”
Guillermo knew that the position of the doorway put Nandor in line with the perfect view of his ass as he sucked his stomach in and reached towards the sock. He was also wearing the tightest pair of pants he owned today, and knew exactly how damned fine they made his backside look. In the past, this would’ve been a non-factor for how he chose to dress. But ever since the drug-blood incident last month, where Nandor had let his feelings about Guillermo slip a little too freely, and Guillermo had nearly kissed him - turning it into a hug at the last second like a coward - Guillermo had been thinking a lot harder about his wardrobe choices. Buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, hair gelled into that fuck me look he used whenever he was planning on meeting a date.
It was working beautifully. Nandor had gotten a lot handsier, and had started trailing Guillermo around the house like a touch-starved puppy. Guillermo had let him touch; encouraged it, even. Energy crackled in the air between them, most days. Laszlo stopped him in the hall one afternoon, and told him that if they didn’t resolve their weird little foreplay game soon, he was going to lock them in a room together until they fucked it out.
Laszlo could fuck off. Guillermo had been waiting for Nandor to reciprocate any of his feelings for years. Was it so wrong of him to want to revel in that tension for a little while?
“It looks like the machine is eating you, Guillermo,” Nandor commented offhandedly. He walked over to casually lean against the dryer, observing his familiar trying to wrestle a homophobic, sock-eating 20 year old washing machine. “Is this how laundry is normally done?”
“Not exactly,” Guillermo answered. The sock peeked teasingly from the bottom. Guillermo sighed, rolled up his shirt sleeves, grabbed the side of the machine, and thrust his arm and half his upper body into the drum.
RIIIIIIIIIIP.
Guillermo froze with his fingers clasped around the sock, a sickening, sinking feeling in his stomach. He’d felt it, the give of his slacks; the fabric was built for someone with a little less junk in the trunk, meaning he tended to take it easier on twisting and turning and leaning when he wore them. Except he’d just wanted the damnable sock... and now there was an obvious rip down the backside of his pants.
Two firm hands came to rest on Guillermo’s waist. He bit back a moan, jerking up and glancing behind him. Nandor was there, eyes wide and hungry, roaming down his backside.
“Master?” Guillermo asked. “What are you doing?”
Nandor said nothing, but moved swiftly, reaching over Guillermo to grab the lid of the washer and pull it down. Guillermo yanked his hands away from the inner edges as it closed flat. That took but a moment, and then Nandor shoved him up against the thing, one hand pressed against his back, pinning him down to the lid. Guillermo squirmed and gripped the edges of the machine, gasping as Nandor stepped close, pressing his hips flush against the back of Guillermo’s thighs. Nandor’s pants hid nothing, his obvious erection rubbing firmly against the split of Guillermo’s cheeks, right over the tear.
Oh, fuck. This... this was happening.
“It seems as though you’ve had a little accident, Guillermo. Why you continue to wear such flimsy garments, I’ll never know.” He drew his hands down Guillermo’s hips, and Guillermo whimpered when Nandor’s fingers skimmed against the edges of the torn fabric. “Wandering around the house, with your tight little pants and shirts... someone might think you were trying to seduce your housemates.”
“No,” Guillermo contested, licking his lips and rolling his hips back, satisfied by Nandor’s answering groan. “Not housemates, plural... maybe just one in particular. And I think it’s working.”
“I knew it. You little rascal,” Nandor hissed. Guillermo heard the fabric tear a little more. “How long has this seduction been going on?”
“A month,” Guillermo confessed. “That night you got blood-drunk, you told me I was as pretty as any of your 37 wives and you wanted to see how I compared to them in bed. If you hadn’t been wasted, I would’ve let you.”
“Shit,” Nandor growled. “That was some really bad blood, Guillermo.”
“So you didn’t mean it?” He gasped again as Nandor’s strong hands rent the garment all the way up the seam, and then cupped his ass lovingly, squeezing. “Fuck, oh fuck...”
“Of course I meant it! Do you know how long I’ve denied myself the opportunity to claim you this way?”
“I don’t know why you bothered; you could’ve had me at any time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Nandor said. “I guess, better late than never.”
Guillermo felt Nandor’s body slip down, heard the thunk of his knees against the linoleum floor. Large hands gripped the fabric of Guillermo’s loose cotton boxers, and there was another loud tear as Nandor purposefully ripped them in half. The cold air of the basement broke goosebumps out on Guillermo’s skin, until Nandor’s shockingly warm mouth met that skin. Guillermo bucked forward with a pleased moan.
“Guillermo... I would like to, ah, I don’t know what you call it in modern language-”
“You can do literally whatever the fuck you want, just touch me, please,” Guillermo begged. The slippery metal of the machine was hard to keep a grip on, but he tried anyway, wanting a lifeline in the face of knowing some of his deepest desires were about to be fulfilled.
“I do not want to be a mood killer, but, how... erm, clean , are you down here?”
“Showered this morning,” Guillermo confirmed. “Also been taking a little extra care, lately. Should be good to go... what are you planning?”
“I am just trying to be hygienic,” Nandor muttered. “Now quiet, Guillermo, and let me work.”
The wetness was the first thing that struck him, when Nandor spread his cheeks and tongued a broad swipe over his hole. The wetness and the reality that Guillermo was in no way prepared for what was about to occur. He whimpered like some virginal thing, the second lap of Nandor’s tongue making him buck against the aluminum.
Apparently, Guillermo had been doing enough in terms of his hygiene that Nandor kept going, tongue licking over and over, then darting forward just a bit to wriggle between the fine folds of skin and muscle. Guillermo nearly brained himself on the machine lid, clutching the metal, legs quaking from the gentle ministrations.
Nandor’s hands were firm against his thighs, holding him steady. The vampire’s very talented tongue slowly worked him open, bit by bit. His own cock was still trapped beneath the tattered fabric, and he could feel a wet spot soaking into the front of the slacks.
He cried out the first time Nandor really pushed his tongue in, the thick muscle wriggling inside, then withdrawing to lap and leave trails of saliva in its wake. It plunged into him again, and Guillermo saw stars, biting his knuckles to muffle an even more pathetic yelp.
“How does it feel?” Nandor asked, between licks and thrusts.
“It’s so good,” Guillermo moaned. “No-nobody’s ever...”
“A shame,” Nandor murmured, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “They were missing out.”
Guillermo had several talented tongues take him apart before, but certainly not in this manner. The sensation was wholly unlike the push of slick fingers, a little more drag and give in this oral penetration. Blindly, Guillermo groped back to feel Nandor’s hair, not knowing what he was doing until he tugged Nandor forward, closer, and Nandor’s growl vibrated into the meat of his cheek. It felt good, it felt right. They had barely begun, and he was already hoping they would do this again sometime.
Nandor started swirling his tongue as he pushed in, going deeper, and when he added a finger to the affair, Guillermo sobbed and rolled his hips into the metal, wanting some kind of friction on his neglected cock.
“Please tell me you’re gonna fuck me,” Guillermo begged. He might go a little mad if Nandor said otherwise.
“I did not bring any lubricating oils down here; this wasn’t exactly planned,” Nandor said, then added a second finger to the first. “I will have to adjourn to the upper floors to find a vial.”
“Hold on.” Guillermo thrust his hand out, carelessly shoving aside bottles of laundry detergent on the shelving above his head so that they clattered to the floor. He grinned when he found what he suspected was hidden there. “Here,” he said, handing the small bottle of lube to Nandor. “I have never gone more than fifty feet in this house without finding a bottle. Laszlo is disgusting. But occasionally, useful.”
“ Eugh ,” Nandor said, but he popped the cap of the bottle and drizzled lube all over his fingers. His tongue kept plunging into Guillermo’s entrance, kept teasing, every so often switching to his slicked up fingers, coating and stretching Guillermo’s hole to ensure a smooth slide.
Finally, Guillermo truly couldn’t take it anymore. He yanked Nandor up by the hair, and urged him to drape himself over Guillermo’s back, his cock probing teasingly against Guillermo’s entrance. Nandor held him down and pushed into him with short, careful thrusts, Guillermo taking deep breaths and willing himself to relax.
The belt around his waist felt tight, so he shoved his hands underneath himself and unbuckled it, then yanked it free of the loops. Freed of the restriction, he could focus on the gorgeous push and pull of Nandor into him, the compelling way Nandor split him apart. God, he’d wanted this for so long...
“Is it okay?” Nandor asked, panting between thrusts. “I am not hurting you?”
“So, so not hurting me,” Guillermo gasped, a delicious crackle of pleasure building up in his balls. “Fuck, Nandor, better than I ever could’ve dreamed it.”
“I’m taking you upstairs after this and fucking you in a real bed,” Nandor promised, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “Or you can fuck me, I don’t care. Can’t believe my first time with you is in the fucking laundry room.”
A laugh bubbled out of Guillermo’s chest, and he wished, then, that he could twist over far enough to kiss Nandor on the mouth. “You’re the one who got hot and bothered over some ripped pants, master- ahhh !”
“It wasn’t the ripping, it was the fact that your ass is truly a sight, and can’t be contained,” Nandor purred in his ear. Guillermo giggled, squeezing around him as a reward for the compliment. “Shit... I’ll buy you as many tight little pants as you want, if I get to rip them off of you whenever I want.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Guillermo said. “Now, could you stop pussyfooting around and fuck me harder- fuck , yes!”
Well, if he lost a pair of pants, but gained a newfound appreciation and access to Nandor’s cock, then the bargain had been worth it.