Chapter 10 – Cozy

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Eric snorted, swallowing the comment of what else was long and hard. His tone, however, fell quite serious, “If I wasn’t so obsessed with seeing them, I wouldn’t have dropped the ball like I did.” Or be in the possession of a set of blue ones. “Jason would never have gotten hurt.”

 

“And seeing them would solve this?”

 

“Well, if I can touch them too,” he grinned suggestively.

 

“Don’t push your luck, buddy!” Sookie huffed, while she continued to eye him suspiciously, “This will make it stop, and you’ll act like a decent human being?”

 

“Yes,” he nodded confidently, “well, the human part is a far reach.”

 

“One peek,” she offered.

 

“One peek,” he agreed instantly. “No touching.”

 

“Close your eyes,” she demanded while turning around shyly.

 

“Now is the time for modesty?” Eric complained, regretting his words instantly with the warning glare she tossed over her shoulder.

 

“I said a peek, not a striptease,” she pointed out. When she was assured his eyes remained closed, Sookie quickly unlatched the fastening underneath her shirt before pulling all the different fabrics up, intending to hide her face during the brief peek. She doubted she’d be able to stand the scrutiny and would assure the peek would last no more for a second.

 

“Take it off! Take it all off!”

 

“JASON!” Sookie screeched in horror while frantically covering herself up just in time to see Pam scowl at her mortified brother.

 

“You had to speak, didn’t you?!” Pam scolded. “I, for one, was enjoying the view, and now you made it go away!”

 

He ignored his newly wed wife, still staring dumbfounded over the excitement caused by his baby sister. “Stop thinking about them!” Sookie cried out. “They’re just boobs!”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Pam complained, spinning his body towards her and lifting up her own shirt.

 

“Oh, hey little Fun Bags,” he smiled. “Missed you guys.”

 

“Good God!” Sookie cried out, turning on her heels and crashing into Eric in the process. “Am I doomed to see everyone’s private parts?”

 

“You’ve yet to see mine,” Eric grinned, while catching her unsteady form, “You don’t even need to ask.”

 

“Gross!” she shrieked. “You said this would stop!”

 

“Never got my peek, now did I?” he pointed out, expectantly roving his eyes over her concealing shirt.

 

“Oh no! The Sookie funhouse is closed! You had your shot, it’s gone.”

 

“And what a shot it was,” Pam grinned from behind them while Eric threatened to explode at the lost opportunity.

 

“Pam,” he warned. “Get to your room!”

 

“What about my bedtime story?” she pouted. Once Pam had caught wind of the existence of Gran’s porno, it had become their shared entertainment in the early hours of the morning when she and her Maker were the only ones still up. Eric had assumed Pam had enough sense not to mention it in front of the Stackhouse siblings. Well, fuck me like a fat pink pony!

 

“Pamela!” he barked. “Room. Now!”

 

“Fine,” she whined. “Come on, Jason, you can look at my boobs some more.” He merely bobbed his head eagerly, following her lead.

 

“You read her bedtime stories?” Sookie asked incredulously. “Let me guess, do they start with ‘Dear Penthouse,’?”

 

“Something like that,” he grinned, happy to know their shared entertainment remained undetected. “Care to write one of those yourself?”

 

“I’m serious, Eric,” she said. “It was once and never again. I’m going to bed.”

 

“Right,” he sighed dejectedly, the determination in her eyes speaking of volumes he never wished to read and reluctantly moved away to his own cottage. “Goodnight, my tempestuous little faery.”

 

“Hey Eric!” she called out, forcing him to turn his gaze back again, and suddenly, there they were; the Tits of Terror in their full glory while she shyly looked away, open to his gaze for a brief second. He wasn’t quite sure how to react, whether to fall to his knees in worship, beg for more, or sell his soul. Instead, he roared with laughter.

 

Quickly she covered herself again, despite already being covered, scrambling to set herself to rights while his stomach hurt like hell, but he couldn’t stop. “I knew it!” she shouted angrily through his guffaws. “Everything’s a fucking game to you! Fuck you, Eric Northman! I hate your guts!”

 

“No, you misunderstand,” he wheezed out, “They’re lopsided!”

 

“Well, thanks a lot,” she scowled, becoming even angrier if that was possible, the stinging at the corners of her eyes transitioning into tears. “You really know how to kick a girl when she’s down.”

 

“No, I mean it’s perfect!” he continued, failing to convey what had caused his amusement. “You’re fucking perfect with lopsided breasts!” He moved in close, gaining every inch of space she desperately put between them, thanking every deity he had ever come across that she still stood outside that pesky threshold, “Sookie, you are just perfect.”

 

“You mean it?” she whimpered, hating the insecurity he’d triggered in her and how clearly it was on display.

 

“Best tits I’ve ever seen,” he confided, “and I’ve seen enough to know.”

 

“Thank you, I guess,” she sniffed, finally daring to look up into his eyes again, finding him suddenly very close. “Did it work at least?”

 

“No,” he spoke hoarsely with a shake of his head, not a speck of regret on display, “not one bit.”

 

---

 

He’d kissed her. Again. Then the bastard had just up and left. She’d never been more confused and he’d had the audacity to smirk at her when he closed the door on his stupid little cottage, not to mention that infuriating little wave goodnight and a wink.

 

As a result she’d tossed and turned all night, the bastard knew it of course, the raucous laughter emanating from his cottage was evidence of that, along with the high-pitched shrieks from Pam and for whatever reason, the word, ‘mammaries.’

 

Stupid tasty fruity drinks, it was all their fault! And Eric. Especially Eric.

 

“You showed him your breasts?”

 

“It was a bad idea wasn’t it?” she said, her tone pensive. “I’ve only made it worse!”

 

“Of course you did,” Claude smirked, “Have you seen them? I’d probably go straight at the sight of those puppies. Come on, try me.”

 

“I’m not showing my boobs to you! Or anyone else for that matter, ever again!”

 

“Oh, Cousin, how did you end up such a prude?” he chuckled, waggling his brows while she angrily huffed in reply.

 

“Then he pretended it never happened,” she sighed, needing some sort of insight, even if it was Claude’s. “He even let Pam tease him that she got to see the goods and he didn’t. It doesn’t make sense.”

 

“A gentleman doesn’t tell, now does he?” he grinned.

 

“Eric Northman’s no gentleman!” she protested, gesturing wildly for no apparent reason except to dispense the restless energy that had been residing in her since her return. “I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but what should I do?”

 

“Easy,” Claude shrugged, “make him show you his dick.”

 

“Why would I want that?” Sookie shrieked, cheeks flaming with the mere thought.

 

“I know!” Claude exclaimed excitedly. “Make him show his dick to me. At least I’d know what to do with it.”

 

“Why would anyone want that?”

 

“I want that,” he pointed out. “And I’m all that matters here after all. You sure you’re not a lesbian? Pam’s fun bags did nothing for you?”

 

“No!”

 

“You’re asexual, then,” he concluded as if possessing a PhD on the subject, though knowing Claude, he probably did.

 

“I am not asexual!”

 

“It’s either that or you really were turned on by the fanger fun bags!”

 

“WAS NOT!” Sookie cried out. “Unlike some people, I’m not oversexualised.”

 

“Like me?” he posed with an innocence that could easily be mistaken for lasciviousness, “and Eric, Pam, Jason, and lest we not forget the epic sex fest that is Godric and Gran.”

 

“Stop it!” she scowled. “I’m perfectly norma-”

 

“Wait,” Claude grinned, “I forgot Niall.”

 

“Great Granddaddy?” Sookie said incredulously. “He’s nothing like the rest of you!”

 

“He’s a faery just like us. What do you think he was up to while you were off on your honeymoon? Where do you think he found that decorator of yours?”

 

“It wasn’t my honeymoon,” she pointed out testily, not wishing to even contemplate what Niall was up to in their absence that involved anything sexual, though that decorator had been asking an awful lot of questions about him…

 

“So, what’s next?” Claude teased, “Are you going to let him touch them? Round out all the bases under the bleachers in a little cheerleader’s outfit?”

 

“Get bent,” she growled. “I don’t like him, and I’m definitely not sleeping with him.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that,” he cackled, “you might just believe it if you try hard enough!”

 

“You’re such an ass!” she cried out, swatting him for good measure.

 

“A fine ass, you mean!”

 

“A fine ass indeed, Lover,” Eric grinned with an exaggerated wink, disrupting their private conversation, Sookie only managing to contain the shriek of surprise just in time with his sudden appearance.

 

“You two can’t gang up on me!” she cried out. “That’s just not fair!”

 

“Fair is for humans,” Claude smirked. “Now show us your tits! It’s only fair!”

 

“Hush!” she hissed with a painful swat to the chest that made him wheeze. Turning to Eric with an aggravated scowl, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”

 

“My presence was required, something about Christmas chores?”

 

“They called you in, too, huh? They’re upstairs,” Sookie mumbled, shuffling her feet and averting his gaze. “We don’t dare to disturb them.”

 

“We have our board meeting in half an hour,” he replied with annoyance. “I’m not waiting on them to stop fu-” Her angry face and the stifling hand over his mouth amused him to no end. A swipe of his tongue against the soft skin causing another high-pitched shriek delighted him in a way he couldn’t quite remember. So he licked her again, but let the opportunity to tease her some more pass, time limited after all and moved with purpose up the stairs. “Follow me.”

 

“Eric, we can’t!” she tried feebly, her short legs doing their best to catch up with his long strides. “Don’t open that do-”

 

Eric stood stock still, shock flooding his system while Sookie and Claude crashed into his back before encountering the same sight, and with that, Sookie got the answer to the unasked question if vampires ever got chilly. More importantly, she finally came to understand what you did with twelve inches of erect and tepid flesh. Apparently you crocheted it a hat, or rather a tea cosy, cock cosy?

 

“Well, hello, Mr. Northman,” Gran greeted with a smile, covering her body nonchalantly with a robe, and falling to that sweet congenial tone as if she were entertaining the parish priest rather than being caught in the middle of their unusual craft-slash-sex activities. Not even Eric and Claude were quite sure what to make of that. “Claude, Sookie, so good of you to join us.”

 

“We’ll wait downstairs,” Eric said with an audible gulp and without an arguing word, the other two quickly followed.

 

---

 

“I told you not to disturb them, but, no, Mr. Cocky Vampire has to barge right into in their bedroom and expose me to that!” Sookie ranted in his frustratingly tiny and frighteningly scary car. Well, the scary was more down to the vampire’s road rage than the car.

 

“Do you ever shut up?” he growled, hitting the brakes hard at the sudden congestion. They were late, very late. “I didn’t force you to follow me! It’s not my fault you’re so easily traumatised.”

 

“Hey! Don’t put this all on me!” she cried out. “You were awfully quiet for a while, buddy, ‘Yes Mrs. Stackhouse, of course, Mrs. Stackhouse’. You do realise you volunteered to cook the Christmas ham, and you couldn’t look Gran or Godric in the eye either!”

 

He growled, honking his horn needlessly while considering flying them out and to the meeting on time, but that would require abandoning his beloved car in this gridlock of traffic.

 

“Will you calm down?! You’re not making the situation any better!” she complained.

 

He eyed her sideways, carefully avoiding the ever-present cleavage on display, but got lost in there anyhow, only startling him from his stupor when his name was shrieked out into the compartment of the car.

 

“Pam?” he replied with a frown when his mind had firmly departed to the beautiful mountainscape of Sookieland.

 

“Eric!” she shrieked out again over the speakerphone, “he’s brought… things.”

 

“A man comes with things, Pam,” he pointed out with a tired sigh, his gaze returning to the traffic and the steering wheel, certainly not pastures green, considering his previous view. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the newlyweds’ moving in woes already. Fucking hell, it had only been three hours since the van arrived.

 

“Yes, a man comes with money,” she agreed. “He’s brought none of that, only giant piles of junk.” Her voice fell especially low, a sign of Pam at her most confused, “Eric, what’s a budget?”

 

He had to stifle his laugh when she tested out the word as if it were an infectious disease, “It means living according to your means. In this case, since you refuse to work; by Jason’s means.”

 

“Which is how much exactly?”

 

He looked at Sookie who pushed the pads of her thumb and index together closely while mouthing, ‘very little.’

 

“Your average spend on a handbag,” he concluded with a smirk.

 

“Per day?” Pam hummed, “It’s not much, but I could work with that in a pinch.”

 

“Not even close, Pam” Eric chuckled, winking at Sookie.

 

“Month?” Pam trembled out in fear.

 

“Try year,” Sookie chipped in only to be replied to by a dial tone that cut off an unheard tirade directed at Jason. “Rude.”

 

“It’s not nice to tease her that way,” Eric pointed out, thankful that the cars in front of him appeared to be gaining some sort of momentum.

 

“Who says I am?” she shrugged. “I know what those overpriced handbags of hers go for. Jas and I earn diddly squat. We’re downright poor. We can barely afford Gran’s new drive.”

 

He raised his eyebrows, “Don’t play that poor little princess routine with the ‘oh-so expensive gilt driveway that she can barely afford.’ There is no such thing as a ‘poor’ Brigant.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’re not exactly Brigants now, are we?” she shrugged. “Gran taught us the value of a dollar as well as a penny. No Brigant trusts for us Stackhouses as long as Gran has anything to say about it. What are you doing?”

 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he returned with a roll of his eyes while he continued to type away on his phone. “I’m wiring Pam some funds.”

 

“Oh no!” she said, pulling it from him his grasp. “Those two wanted to get married for richer and for poorer. Tough luck for her that she married poorer. You’re not bailing her out!”

 

“I’m not letting her suffer just because your brother doesn’t know how to make a decent living!”

 

“Yes, you are!” she growled.

 

“Make me!” he growled back, clamouring for his phone, missing epically, stupid faery and her faery tits, no matter how splendid the view on Mount Sook. “Give me back my phone!”

 

“Only if you promise not to send her any money!”

 

“Fine,” he conceded.

 

“Liar!”

 

“How the fuck would you know I’m lying!”

 

“Telepath,” she smirked. “Know that face on anyone. Added to that, you’d never agree to something without getting some change out of the deal yourself. If you’d bothered to teach Pam that, she wouldn’t be in the situation she is in now, would she?”

 

“Point,” he begrudgingly admitted. “So what are you offering?”

 

“Who says I’m offering?” she beamed back, waving the phone out of his reach, her back pushing against the car door. “I’ve got all the power here.”

 

“And I’m being restrained by a seatbelt, so your power is very limited,” he pointed out with a threatening finger over the red release button. “Negotiating time is now.”

 

Her face scrunched up and contemplating deeply, she finally offered, “You can tell Pam the truth, that you saw, you know, these,” she said, gesturing to her chest, nearly making him forget what they were talking about again. Maybe less mountainscape, more Bermuda Triangle. Which made him think of another softly landscaped triangle, Fucking Hell.

 

“No,” he finally managed to sound out without a wanton pant. “Let me see them again.”

 

“Nuh uh,” she replied petulantly.

 

“You’re supposed to counter!”

 

She shrugged, “Yeah, well, it’s all or nothing. Or something.”

 

“Let me touch them.”

 

“No!”

 

“You don’t even have to take your shirt off,” he suggested while she continued to eye him suspiciously.

 

“Why does it always have to be me who has to show her bits or gets felt up? Why can’t it be you?” Sookie cried out, instantly wishing she never voiced that aloud with the look of hunger in front of her, leaving no doubt he’d be very happy to agree to those makeshift terms, in any form. Despite the attempts to explain she didn’t mean it like that and all such perverted thought only existed in his mind, nothing seemed to wash away that annoying smirk on his face that spelled victory.

 

“Fine! You can touch them!” Sookie finally conceded, hoping it would end this continual perusal of her, or more frustratingly, her chest, which was making her feel things she didn’t want to know she could feel, especially in the chest area. His continued silence only unnerved her further, “One squeeze, Mister. That’s it!”

 

“Very well,” Eric grinned excitedly, his tongue tracing his top lip hungrily, forgetting all about the clusterfuck of traffic they were stuck in and the room full of people awaiting them.

 

“And no kissage after!”

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled while releasing the buckle of his seat belt, successfully unsettling her even further while he stretched out his entwined hands before him with a crunch, as if in preparation for something far more daunting than a simple fondling of flesh. She breathed heavily, her eyes somewhere between scrunching and closing as his fingers neared, crying out with the suddenness of it all in the next moment.

 

“You purple-eyed piece of shit!”

 

Miraculously her boobs had remained untouched, if you discounted the hold the seat belt already had on her. The rest of her body was a different matter altogether. While Eric was brushing the shattered glass of the windshield from his hair and set to inspect the damage to his favourite girl, the car, her door opened while she remained in a confused haze at the sudden turn of events.

 

“You okay, Babe?” a deep voice asked while all she could do at this point was blink in reply.

 

“Do not fucking touch her or I’ll use that fugly ass hide of yours as the upholstery for my new car!” Eric roared, scaring Sookie with the intensity of it, causing her to whimper and cower towards the other man.

 

“Are you his, Babe?” the subdued voice asked her again, seemingly unimpressed by the testosterone display and successfully keeping Eric from access with his position at her door. There was something so gentle and kind about the shiny bald headed man, she really only was able to focus on one thing at a time as her head seemed to be ringing in a relentless echo from the impact with the dashboard. “Are you?”

 

She shook her head. She wasn’t even quite sure what she was answering or whom, for whatever reason she wanted to call him Mr. Clean. He seemed nice enough though. “Wanna be mine, Gorgeous?” he grinned with a wink. Oh my God, it is Mr. Clean!

 

“Em, sure?”
Because who wouldn’t want to be Mrs. Clean?

   

>

 

---

A/N: Ehm… me, yeah definitely me…

 

Merry Christmas from Mr. and Mrs. Clean…

*snickers* Anyhow I hoped you enjoyed that and won’t be hunting me down with feral Pam and other threats that were sent my way last week with the mere taunting of where this chapter would end up… In my defence can I just say, “Cock Cozy?”

 

This story will be back in early January no matter how much you people beg/blackmail/bribe. We’ll pick up right here again to explore another familiar trope of amnesia Sookie…

 

Much love to msbuffy (don’t bother her either) and Happy Holidays/Festivus/Christmas/Celebration of Choice!