“You want them together?” he voiced sceptically, not sure how happy he truly was with this arrangement either. Sitting next to Sookie though, was nice, she’d need a different coat though, it was covering up far too much. Was he flaccid?
“They seemed to like each other at first, even Tinder thinks they’re a match, but it doesn’t really matter,” Sookie replied, wondering if he was even listening at this point, considering his fixed gaze at her chest. “They should be able to figure it out without the production crew casting doubt all the time. It’s one thing to document them, it’s another to softly script people’s lives when they’re looking for something real.”
“What are you proposing?”
“It’s nearly the weekend, I figured we’d give ‘em a little escape from Big Brother. I pop them away somewhere, but I seriously doubt Pam will be tolerable in Gran’s old farmstead.” One look at Jason’s house, quickly dubbed a windy shithole by the vampiress, and there had been no room for argument that they’d be living in her house for the duration of the social experiment.
“I know a place, it’s not too far,” he nodded in agreement, and giving her a sidelong look, he offered suggestively, “Does this mean we get to come along and supervise? You can have the top bunk, I do so enjoy a woman on top.”
“You wish!” she yelled out with mock disgust while he laughed at her. “Seriously though, Pam’s been surprisingly good with the feeding off him thing, I think they should be fine without us. A bit of trust will do them good.”
“So in a sense, you want to gift them with another honeymoon? Sounds an awful lot like indulgence.”
Her brow quirked up at him, “Who are you and what have you done to Eric Northman?”
“Could say the same for you,” he grinned. “You almost appear reasonable. Almost.”
The scowl on her face didn’t last long when she found her feet again, “Don’t get your hopes up, Buddy! Let’s head back and put out the latest of their little fires.”
“And pray tell, how do you propose we do that?”
“Simple,” she shrugged, “We pick up a pizza, get Pam something she really wants on the way back, it’s not like this city ever sleeps, and teach them the meaning of three little words that keep any relationship going, or maybe it’s two?”
“Silly vampire,” she tittered. “What else? Make-up sex.”
And fuck if he wasn’t hard. Again.
When they returned, Pam voiced a sentiment that Eric, let alone Sookie, would ever think they would hear, “Jason is a genius!”
The pair looked her over curiously, wondering if Pam had finally gone insane under the scrutiny of the cameras. She didn’t even jump at the bag full of goodies from her favourite store or object to the pizza in Eric’s hands.
“Do it again, baby!” she chimed excitedly, cueing Jason to burst into song, confirming to Eric and Sookie they’d both gone insane until they saw the production crew put down their equipment in annoyance.
“If we sing,” Pam grinned triumphantly, “they have to pay royalties and they’re about as cheap as you Stackhouses. Almost.”
Sookie shrugged, “I guess we’re no longer needed.”
“Pizza,” Eric grinned, opening the box in offering up to Sookie.
“Don’t mind if I doooo-ooo!” Jason sang gleefully, snatching the pizza out of his grasp with an exaggerated sway to his hips. “Aaaah love to love you, baby!”
“Diamond choker?” Sookie offered back feebly, only to find it missing from her hand.
“Wasn’t really my style anyway,” Eric shrugged, eyeing the camera crew picking up their gear gleefully with their lack of bursting out in song, he added, “Let’s get the fuck out of here before we’re extras in a fucking musical. Eric Northman does not sing.”
Sookie smiled, “Probably for the best, no one wants to hear me sing.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” he indulged while opening the door for her only to be proven wrong when she sang her thanks in return.
“Come on,” he grimaced. “Let’s get drunk.”
“This was a terrible plan,” Sookie slurred.
“This was an excellent plan.”
“I’m really, really drunk. Why aren’t you drunk?”
“You only had one glass,” he said with a frown, regarding the table between them that held his glass of blood, minus one courtesy sip, and her gin and tonic, “and unless this is fresh faery blood I’m unlikely to get drunk.”
“I’m not supposed to drink with my medication!” she cried out. “I forgot!”
“Calm down,” Eric urged. “I’m calling Dr. Ludwig, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
He was soon greeted by the ever ‘friendly’ bedside manner that was uniquely Ludwig, simultaneously shooing away the waiter with a hint of fang who was taking far too much interest in Sookie and her complicated drink order.
“Let’s get you home,” he announced, tossing a few bills on the table as soon as he hung up his phone. “Ludwig says you’ll be fine with a bit of rest and fluids. I assume she meant water.”
“NO!” she cried out in protest. “Great-Grandaddy is there, and he’ll kill me! He worries too much, since the accident it’s only gotten worse.”
“You can’t not go home,” he pointed out. “That will only worry him more.”
“He thinks I’m at Jason’s,” she whispered with harried eyes. “Please, Eric, I can’t go home. Just drop me at a hotel or something. Jason will fib for me. Lord knows I’ve covered his ass often enough.”
“Dr. Ludwig said not to leave you unsupervised, so even without that advice I’m not leaving you on your own. Let’s go,” he instructed with an outreached hand.
“Where are we going?” she smiled, with…was that mischief? Why couldn’t Sober Sookie be more like Drunk Sookie?
Sporting a similar look, he indulged in a husky tone, “My house.”
“Well, lead the way,” she giggled, running out in front of him. Fuck, he loved drunk Sookie! Well, liked, strongly liked.
“This room is pink!” Sookie huffed.
“It’s Pam’s room. Something wrong?” he posed curiously, only stopping himself in time of inviting her to the only other bedroom available, his. Drunk Sookie was fun, but Sober Sookie surely would be scary to wake up to. Regenerating his dick was not on the agenda.
“It’s pink,” she repeated with an angry frown. “I hate pink.”
He shrugged, “It’s Pam’s favourite colour, used to be the colour for boys in her day.”
Despite the hushed tone of conspiracy Sookie’s response, it came out exceptionally loud, “It’s Jason’s, too!” she giggled. “Don’t tell anyone, I only know it from his mind.”
“Is that so?” Eric posed indulgently while tucking her under the comforter that she continued to fight against.
“It’s not a surprise really,” she yawned. “It’s the colour of lady bits.”
“Incidentally,” he laughed, “that’s the same reasoning for Pam’s favour of the colour.”
“Ugh,” Sookie groaned and was interrupted with another yawn. “Those two are just sickeningly perfect for each other. I hate them and their happy little marriage. Why couldn’t it be me, Eric?”
Her lips wobbled while her eyes seemed wetter than normal, and under different circumstances he’d find the sight comical, but somehow it elicited some long-lost sympathy for her lonely state, “You’ll find your Mr. Right sometime, at the very least someone to drive insane on a regular basis.”
“What if I never find him?” she whined, babbling nonsensically about missed opportunities, stupid man brains, and their gross thoughts.
“Then you’ll have me, Mr. Grumpy, ready and waiting at your beck and call,” he promised, with a soft caress of her forehead, checking her temperature wasn’t elevated beyond normal.
“Promise?” Sookie whispered, holding onto his hand.
“Promise,” he assured. “It only makes sense that I trade in Pam for a new pain in my ass.”
“Ok,” she giggled. “Night now, Mr. Grumpy.”
He held a tight smile before kissing the top of her forehead, “Sleep now, drunky. Remember we have to do interviews tomorrow.”
“She said what?!”
“If you like, we can play the footage back for you,” the production crew assistant, Jeff, Biff, Stephen? offered all too eagerly.
“Please,” Eric spat out. Fuck! He hated every second of these ‘interviews’. He’d thought the ‘how do your fangs work?’ questions were annoying, but these idiots were beyond anything else. Who the fuck cared how he felt when he saw Pam in her wedding dress. It was a fucking dress!
“So tell us, Sookie, what happened when you and Eric left?”
“After the spontaneous pizza party?” she asked with an eye roll. “What do you think happened?”
“Well, what we think isn’t very important, but the viewers at home like to know these things. We have footage of you leaving his home the next day, wearing the same clothes, but we don’t know what happened there that night.”
“What? That we got drunk? Slept together?” Sookie huffed. “What else do you want to know? Yes, his penis was tiny, and disappointingly small for such a LARGE man. Never been so unsatisfied in my life.”
The screen faded to black while Eric emitted a poorly contained growl. “Does this look small?” he demanded angrily, dropping his pants for all to see. Eric knew he was nothing like his Maker, but Godric clearly was a freak of nature who had to be turned before reaching adulthood because surely in its fully intended length, the man was certain to pass out with any hint of excitement. The camera crew only managed to gape at him in silence instead. Insecurely he squeaked, “Does it?”
They never managed an answer, the incident quickly glamoured out of their minds, and any footage was erased in a calmly contained rage. He couldn’t give a fuck anymore that he’d only finished up half the allotted time for his interview. Instead he flew to his former home, now Sookie’s, demanding an explanation.
Landing on the balcony, without thought he ripped the expansive sliding door to the penthouse from its frame with excessive force, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Sookie, does this look small to you?”
“Well, Good evening to you, too, Mr. Northman,” Gran greeted from her perched seat on the sofa. His Maker merely raised an amused brow. Adele took a leisurely sip from her tea cup, eyeing his package with interest over the porcelain rim, and with a giggle she offered, “You haven’t been around many faeries, have you?”
Hastily his pants were pulled up while he muttered some sort of apology, though in all fairness he didn’t know exactly what he was apologising for, and the elderly women only seemed amused, far from offended. Eric remained as confused as ever. What the fuck was that giggle about anyhow, and what did she mean not being around faeries, were they freakishly large? And where the fuck was Sookie?
“Eric, what are you doing here?” the girl in question interrupted his thoughts, holding a tray full of foods and some of those blood pastries that were little more than congealed synthetic blood they always insisted on serving everywhere, that frankly were an insult to the palate. Suddenly her rather welcoming face grew angry following the sight of the sliding door that lay in pieces on the balcony, surrounded by shattered glass, adding, “Why the hell did you flash Gran?!”
“I don’t think he meant to, dear,” Gran defended gently in an effort to keep the peace.
“That still doesn’t explain why he couldn’t use the doorbell like anybody else,” she spat out angrily while dumping the tray on the coffee table with a little too much force, rattling the dishes.
“There was an emergency, wasn’t there, Mr. Northman?” Gran hinted.
“Oh, stop it, Gran!” Sookie interrupted, whispering with a hiss, “Even without the telepathy I can spot a lie a mile away on you. Don’t worry, I’ll play nice.” She stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs off her lap before offering politely, “Mr. Northman, please sit,” adding under her breath, “While I try to find an emergency repairman.”
“Eric will see to that,” Godric spoke sternly, making Sookie remember there really was no use to whispering under her own breath around the Supernatural. “Won’t you, Eric?”
“Of course,” he agreed, getting up to make the phone call then and there. “Excuse me.”
“So,” Sookie smiled, sporting the crazy one that pretended all was well. “Where were we?”
With a large sigh, Sookie closed the door on a cheery Gran and Godric. She wasn’t quite sure how to digest their news. Sure, she wanted Gran happy and she certainly seemed happier than she’d ever known the woman to be, but where was she supposed to live when Godric moved into the old homestead back in Louisiana? Not that Gran was kicking her out, but the thought of having to constantly avoid her thoughts would be too tiring, the stray thought of where to buy a sex swing had done enough damage already and they’d only been there for an hour or so. She had this gargantuan property that once belonged to Eric, and it even housed most of her things now but she doubted that it would ever feel like home, nor had she any desire to leave Bon Temps permanently. If Jason messed up, would it even be hers anymore? Maybe Sam would rent her one of those shitty condos of his?
“He’ll return in the morning, finish up with all the necessary materials,” Eric interrupted her thoughts. “Does that work for you?”
“Eh, sure,” she responded absently. When she looked up, Eric had already shooed the worker she’d barely taken notice of out the door, and carefully came to sit beside her. “Can I get you anything?”
“You don’t have to be polite anymore,” he offered. “Come on, let me have it.”
“I don’t think I’m in the mood,” she sighed, letting her body fall back into the couch, hugging a large throw pillow in her arms for comfort. “As long as it’s fixed, I don’t really care.”
“I’ll go then.”
“Stay?” she whispered, adding vulnerably, “Please?”
“Very well,” he agreed, pulling his arm over her shoulders and tucking her into his side. They were quiet for a while, staring at the large piece of plywood that was covering the million dollar view. “Sookie, am I small?”
“Small?” she asked in confusion.
“My.” Cough. “Penis.” Cough.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I saw your interview,” he spoke lowly.
“Oh,” she whispered with realisation, eyes growing wide.
“Yes, oh!” Eric was back at full anger, feeling the insult as strongly as when he first heard her utter the words on the monitor, especially since she seemed to be laughing hysterically now, only adding the proverbial injury to the insult. “I don’t know what you think you remember with that drunk brain of yours-”
“Stop,” she giggled. “I remember perfectly well what happened last night.”
“Why the hell are you spreading false rumours that I’m small then?” he demanded testily.
“Cool your tits, Eric,” she huffed. “By the sounds of it, your ‘interview’ was as enjoyable as mine. I was annoyed, they were asking about us. It’s none of their business.” Never mind the fact that Sookie had no real answers to those rather impertinent questions surrounding her and Eric, nor did she really wish to contemplate those answers. “I voiced his inner thoughts. I do it sometimes. I know it’s rude, but if someone pisses me off it’s the best way to shut them up. Scares them shitless, though I did make someone shit their pants once.”
A look of relief fell over the otherwise imperturbable vampire, “So I’m not small. Good to know.”
“Well, I never really saw,” she shrugged. “I’m sure it’s perfectly adequate.”
“Adequate? Who the fuck wants to be adequate?” he growled out, ruffled once more. “This is worse than the time you called me nice!”
“I never called you nice! You’re anything but nice!” she retorted, face flushing with both the excitement of the fight and her innate ire that took little to fire up.
“You lumped me in with that pudgy best man!” he cried out. “First night we met!”
“Hoyt? I thought you were gay,” she reminded with a huff. “I thought you’d share my dislike of nice men as a long-term partner!”
“You need to communicate clearer!” he accused.
“Says you?” she laughed, standing up to pace the room in an effort to expel the escalating energy in her body. “You talk plenty, but you don’t communicate a thing!”
“I want you!” Eric declared with a deafening volume, coming to stand just before her, stopping her in her tracks. “Clear enough for you?”
“Crystal!” she bit back, eyes narrowing. “And it’s exactly why we’ll never be anything but weirdly related through Jason and Pam!”
“Your fun is in wanting me, not having me!” she retorted.
“You said it last night!” she reminded. “You’d only have me if no one else would want me. I may have been loopy, but I remember everything, crystal fucking clear!”
“That is not what I said!” Eric protested. “You’re just hearing what you want to hear! You’re so obsessed with finding the idea of Mr. Right you don’t even bother to look what’s in front of you!”
“What?” she laughed mockingly, “You think you’re my Mr. Right? All we do is fight!”
“Just think of the make-up sex,” he pointed out with a lascivious grin.
“That’s all it comes down to with you, isn’t it? Sex, sex, sex!”
“Well, it would be nice to have some!” Eric declared, adding for clarity, “With you!”
She rolled her eyes, “And that’ll do what exactly?”
“Prove to you once and for all that all the fun is in having you! That I’ll be here tomorrow and the night after that! That this is more than an interesting fuck! That I’m fucking playing for keeps!”
She stared him down, the tense silence between them rising as chests panted heavily with the strain from their voices, and calmly she challenged, “Prove it!”
“Right, he replied with a surprised startle. “Let’s fuck! Right now!”
“Fine!” she bellowed back.
Neither one made a move from their standstill, the silence paralysing them both with the ramifications of what they were about to embark upon.
“Right,” Sookie voiced self-consciously, surprisingly sedate. “Where do we start?”
He shrugged, offering, “Bedroom?”
“Bedroom, it is,” she nodded in agreement, as if they were discussing a business proposition. “Follow me.”
Eric took a brief second to take in the new floral decor that was once his very masculine master bedroom before launching them both onto the bed. Pulling at clothes while fusing his mouth to hers. Her hands pushed against his chest, “Will you stop trying to chew half my face off?”
“If you responded a little, I wouldn’t be the one doing all the work!” She glared back angrily, later he’d blame his instant voiced apology on the dishevelled sight of her, one arm half in her blouse, breasts half out of her lacy bra, lipstick smeared everywhere, and hair roughed just the way he liked. Now, he simply sought out her lips again, gently, and coaxing a response, delighting himself with the sound of a genuine moan, and finding her hands roaming his body and pulling rather ineffectively at his clothes.
“Can’t wait to slip into your wet little cunt,” he growled into her ear.
Sookie gasped, halting all his century-practiced skills from touching and exciting her any further, “You can’t say that!”
“Well, I’m not saying pussy! I fucking hate cats!”
“You can’t say that either!”
“Right, Ms. Sensibility,” he growled, tossing off his shirt and making quick work of his pants, hoping his rather impressive physique –how could it be anything but, he was fucking done doubting himself- would shut her up once and for all, and they could finally get to the fucking already. He was rather pleased when her eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. He tugged at her skirt, “Do you prefer ‘bring me your vulva’?”
“What!” she cried out, stopping him from pulling her skirt down any further. In frustration, he simply flipped it up, caging her body with his. “Do you even understand the female anatomy? And ‘bring’? What the fuck?”
“Yes, fuck,” he growled. “It’s what I’m trying for here!”
“Well, I suggest you try it with someone else!” Frantically she tried to cover her bottom half again, noting with confusion, “Why are your socks still on?”
“Stop fighting me!” he growled, fearing the skirt was about to rip in pieces with their tug of war.
“It’s making me way too fucking hard! That’s why!”
“You’ve got some real problems up there, Buddy!”
“FUCK!” he grunted in part anger and part relief, only to be flooded with disappointment as his semen jetted out all over her stomach.
“GROSS!” she screamed with the sudden wet and cold fluid hitting her heated skin. “Don’t use your shirt! Just stop already! This so isn’t happening!”
“Hold still, we’ll start again!”
“Oh, no!” Sookie popped herself away to the bathroom where hastily she cleaned herself off while Eric insistently knocked on her door, only restraining himself so much from ripping another door from its hinges. This was fucking happening, come hell or high water. “Just go away! Don’t make me rescind your invitation! Night, Eric, I’d say it was a blast… Well, I guess it kind of was.”
He grimaced, embarrassed all over again by his premature release. Fuck if only she’d give him another chance. “I’m not leaving you unsatisfied!”
“Don’t worry about me. I have my ways. Just leave already!” she screamed through the door.
“Why use fingers when you have me?” he tried relentlessly. “Just open the door, Sookie, and we’ll start again.”
“Who said anything about fingers?” she replied with little thought, smacking herself on the forehead with the slip. His interest peaked instantly, swooshing over to her bedside table in moments. “Don’t go through my drawers!” she screamed, angrily banging the door open and striding over to him in her bathrobe.
“Afraid I might find this?” he grinned triumphantly, waving the sex toy, not pink, in the air and out of her reach. “Thor? The God of Thunder? I commend you on your taste.”
“I don’t even know how that got there,” she stammered with flushed cheeks, very pink.
“Right,” he replied all too knowingly, switching on the vibrator and letting the low buzz fill the room. “Now open wide.”
“Gross, Eric! Fine, Gran gave it to me,” Sookie huffed, shoving his rumpled up clothing from the floor against his naked body, suggesting he best get leaving, only for it to drop by his feet. Why the hell was he still wearing his socks? “I’ve never used it! I swear!”
“Sure,” he grinned, taking an elongated sniff. “Doesn’t smell of you at all.”
“Oh, just give it back.”
Surprisingly, he switched it off and handed it back to her while she hastily tried to disguise its entire existence in the pocket of her bathrobe as if nothing had just occurred while he slipped on his pants and dirtied shirt, knowing nothing was going to salvage this night now, watching her grimace slightly at the wet stains on his shirt. Casually he spoke, “You should really read the portfolio of the company you now have a board seat to.”
“What?” she said in confusion, following him out to the front door.
“The vibrator, Thor,” he goaded, causing her to flush all over again. “I make it, well, we make it. Hate to break it to you, Ms. Prim and Proper, but you’ve been getting off on my not-so-tiny cock for years now.”
“Oh, get out!” she screamed, throwing the vibrator at his head for good measure. “And stick that where the sun don’t shine!”
His eyebrows merely rose up in amusement as she slammed the door on him, pocketing the vibrator with a grin as he went.
Eric was rather surprised to see Sookie’s name appear on his caller ID the next day. He’d assumed the first interaction they’d be having would be under circumstances she absolutely could not avoid, and he’d already been trying to convince Godric to celebrate his moving in with Adele somehow in the very near future, forcing them in the same room. Might even bring Thor.
“Sookie?” he questioned, despite the evidence he was sure she hadn’t meant to call him.
“I wanted to thank you for sending Alcide,” she spoke rather calmly, friendly almost, as if nothing had happened.
“Sorry about the damage, again,” Eric replied apologetically, hoping a little grovelling would further aid his attempt of bedding her again. He was so fucking close. Don’t mention Thor! “Is everything back in order now?”
Eric swore he could hear her grin on the other end of the line. “Too?”
“I was thanking you for sending Alcide,” she repeated, this time the slight lilt and laugh was clearly detectable in her voice.
Genuinely confused, he said, “I don’t understand.”
“I told you I had my ways. Far more satisfying than Thor ever was,” she informed with a giant grin, and for the first time in her life swiftly hung up the phone without a courtesy goodbye.
A/N: Factually pink wasn’t a boys’ colour in Victorian times as per the popular myth but it suited my needs in this chapter… and on that note I’ll be off hiding somewhere far away since even msbuffy was feeling a little bad for Eric not getting into those tightly held legs of Sookie’s… Sharpen your pitchforks, feel free to skewer me and all that other Jazz below 😀
Thanks to msbuffy for her work on this!