Chapter 7 – Love Birds

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“Quick thinking with that envelope,” Eric complimented as they made their way back towards the formal rooms. She nodded, begrudgingly recognising, “Nice move with the sideburns. I always wondered if they were real. Guess they are.” They shared a brief chuckle while passing the cloak room, both frightened on what that meant. Sookie observed the deserted hallway, turning her head left and right for added measure. Eric eyed her suspiciously, instantly objecting, “We’re not getting the fucker his co-”

 

She’d shoved him, hard, crashing them both to the floor that cried out with a creek, taking a rack of coats with them. Struggling their bodies against each other until suddenly he felt her lips pushing against his that effectively shut him up, of course the Tits of Terror had nothing to do with it, they just felt very nice against his body, that was all, and he couldn’t even care that she was ripping his shirt to shreds.

 

He moaned, she may have groaned as his hand moved over her ass, while the heavy coats were flung across the room. Suddenly she disengaged, his lips chasing desperately after hers, only to be stopped when hands landed on his now bare chest, keeping him pinned to the ground. Hypnotised by breasts heaving above him, she managed to catch her breath when suddenly her eyes narrowed and he knew. He fucking knew he was in a world of trouble as the grin on her face shone brighter than that deadly motherfucker, the sun.

 

Eric braced himself as Sookie announced, exactly at one minute past midnight, sitting triumphantly astride him, “Guess you are a bottom after all.”

 

Eric almost laughed at her quip, that was until a wink was cast his way before the audible ‘pop’ left him devoid of her warm body. He was a little disappointed, after her display with Bill he’d expected something a little more. “Ha Ha,” he grumbled to himself, anything but amused. “I’m a fucking bottom alright.” It was, of course, at that moment the camera crew crashed in on cue along with Claude, smirking as he did. “Ah, Lover, there you are!” he purred with delight, “Ready and waiting for me, as always? You know I love being on top!”

 

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“You realise he’s not gay, right?”

 

“I’m not a total idiot,” she huffed. Though she had to admit she might have been, never really coming to that rather firm conclusion until she felt something hard and firm poking into her moments ago. “Sure he’s not bi?”

 

“Pretty sure,” Claude replied with a reluctant sigh, an eager grin befalling him with his next thought, “I’d be happy to try again.”

 

“I think I made my point,” she grumbled. “How much longer do we have to sit here pretending to be happy? I want to go to bed and forget ever meeting Eric Northman.”

 

“I figure we can leave as soon as the love birds have departed,” he assessed.

 

Her face scrunched up with irritation, “Jason and Pam? They’re enjoying the limelight a little too much, so that’ll be forever. I don’t think even the rising sun will deter her.”

 

“I was referring to those two,” he snickered, watching Sookie turn bright red at the sight of Godric cupping Adele’s behind a little too suggestively while whispering something in her ear. “Although lust birds might be more accurate.”

 

Sookie’s eyes were now firmly forced closed, and she breathed deeply as if averting a panic attack, “Please tell me they’ve stopped.”

 

“They stopped,” Claude informed.

 

“Liar!” she screeched, shutting her eyes quickly again as soon as they opened.

 

“You’re such a judgemental little thing, just let the woman have her bit of fun!” he scoffed. “Adele could use a good roll in the hay. You’re just an ageist, he’s twenty times her age, but you’re grossed out by the thought of them doing the dirty.”

 

“I don’t care whether he’s old, or her for that matter,” she said while carefully prying her eyes open to a squint, barely able to make out anything that wasn’t in the foreground. “She’s my Gran, you know? She’s been a sweet little old lady my entire life, and now it turns out she’s some hussy who puts the average fangbanger to shame. If I’d done half the things going on in her mind right now, I wouldn’t have an ass to sit on.”

 

“Humans and their morality!” he scoffed. “Heads up.”

 

“What?” she asked in confusion, only seeing the clearly ill-tempered Viking vampire headed their way a few seconds too late, and sporting a rather fetching new blue sweater in place of his shredded shirt.

 

“Is that your wallet that’s happy to see me,” Claude grinned, gesturing at the bulge in his pants, “Or is it just you?”

 

Ignoring the exasperating faerie, dealing with him once had been trying enough already, his eyes narrowing at the one sitting beside him instead, formally he greeted, “Sookie.”

 

“Mr. Northman,” she greeted politely in return, her lashes batting excessively in a pose of fake innocence.

 

“May I have your attention please?” Eric announced to the gathered crowd while pulling up a shocked Sookie beside him, becoming more panic-stricken by the second. “I can think of no greater day, or rather night, with our gathered loved ones for such an event as this.”

 

“What are you doing?” she whispered in a mild fluster, knowing this overly-friendly version of Eric was in no way genuine or spelled out anything good.  In answer, he only pulled her more tightly into his side, making it impossible to escape, and delighting both Gran and Godric with the sight.

 

“Tonight we have all witnessed the unique and special joining of two great families. Pam, I couldn’t be more proud,” he spoke regally, raising his glass as he did, his Childe beaming alongside her new husband. “Jason, you appear a good match for my little girl and I can’t wait to get to know you on a deeper level.”

 

“Liar,” Sookie hissed while he chuckled softly as if they were sharing an inside joke.

 

“It appears love is in the air tonight,” he continued with a nod to his Maker, setting his gaze on Sookie, desperately trying to avoid the Tits of Terror that could unravel his carefully constructed plan with a mere jiggle. “Infecting more than just the happily-wedded couple on this fine and festive evening.”

 

Sookie became more and more anxious by the moment, uncertain exactly of what he was up to, with there being no doubt in her mind that he was up to something of the extremely badly behaved variety.

 

“Sookie,” he whispered huskily before dropping to the floor on one bended knee thus causing her to screech in horror that could easily be mistaken for excitement. The crowd gasped collectively, recognising what would, without a doubt, be an excessively romantic moment, and under her breath she warned, “Don’t you dare!”

 

“I know we’ve only just met, but I know this is real. I’ve never met anyone like you,” he grinned widely, “Sookie, will you-”

 

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘marry me’, I swear to God, Eric Northman, I will kill you!” she hissed under her breath, audible only to the two of them and Claude.

 

His hand moved over the bulge in his pocket to which Claude had been referring earlier, Sookie’s mouth drying up in the process, and smirking smugly at the effect it was having on her. He bowed his head forward formally, kissing her ring finger with ceremony, and more than entertained to find her hands shaking with anger, “Sookie, will you,” he began again while she inhaled a petrified breath, and the crowd echoing it until an expectant silence filled the room, “Dance with me?”

 

“You bastard!” she yelled, a little too loudly, causing the room to roar with laughter while he whisked her away in his arms towards the dance floor. “Let me go,” she hissed at the same time attempting to keep a smile firmly plastered on her face  during which the entire room gushed over the young ‘couple’.

 

“Play along,” Eric instructed leisurely, looking careless. “I have a ring in my pocket and I’m not afraid to use it.”

 

“You’re a real sicko, you know that!” she spat out.

 

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Coming from you that’s quite the high compliment.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he retorted. “Now be a good little faery and dance with me, and then in view of everyone, we’ll head to your room.”

 

“We will do no such thing!” Eric chuckled again, and to any outsider they appeared the picture of perfect happiness, almost outshining the bride and groom. He dragged her hand over the velvet square box again in reminder of his earlier threat. “I can just say no, you know!” she retorted lamely.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied smugly, shifting her towards the cameras that followed them with renewed interest. “I win either way; I’m either the dejected romantic fool who fell too hard and too fast for an ice queen, eliciting the sympathy of millions, and not to mention the amount of pity fucks, or I’m perceived the luckiest bastard alive. What better than a tale of love at first sight at a wedding about love at first sight? That little stunt with Claude, while inventive, makes no sense in their narrative that will most definitely end up on the cutting room floor.”

 

She snorted, “Are you that insecure about your manhood?”

 

“Hardly,” he answered with a scoff, “but I’m not going to allow some pesky little faery like you best me anytime soon.”

 

“I violently dislike like you!

 

“I wish I could still vomit in order to express the depths of my loathing for you,” he countered, then raising his voice, “Let’s get you some cake, Smoochy Pie!”

 

“Love some, Cuddly Bear!” she grit out through a fake smile.

 

“Here,” he exclaimed with glee, shoving an oversized piece of cake into her mouth, smearing most of it over her lips and chin, a plan that backfired immediately as traitorous pieces of crumbs fell to her cleavage, causing him to groan a little too loudly with the sight. She stared up at him, a hint of triumph clearly there with the knowledge that he wasn’t acting, using it in her favour instantly, and sucking on his finger suggestively letting it linger a little too long with his slowed reflexes.

 

“Get a room, you two!” Jason exclaimed happily as Pam nibbled with blunt teeth at his throat while giving them a thumbs up. It was a much needed interruption to clear his head, and his other head, causing Eric to finally jolt from his stupor, pulling his finger from her mouth rather abruptly, causing her to cry out softly with the pain. “Sorry,” he grumbled, seemingly genuine while cleaning up her face with a napkin. This only served to distract him further at her slightly dishevelled state, lipstick smeared firmly outside the natural periphery of her lips, making him think of other things to do with those full lips …now if only he could muss up the hair…

 

“Maybe we should revisit that truce,” she offered, knowing her position was weak, but chancing it regardless.

 

“Oh no, my future bride,” he grinned, quick to pick her up, bridal style, of course, moving them towards the exit. His voice carrying far once again, clearly playing up to the cameras, “I’m never leaving your side again, my love!”

 

Despite her lowly hissed protests to his person and further threats to his manhood, he didn’t put her down again until they were in the elevator where he innocently hummed along to the terrible choice of Muzak while she stared at him with a hatred that had the potential to scorch him inside out, her hands crackling with electrical charge. With the announcing ding, she made no effort to be cordial, stomping out of the elevator in a manner more reminiscent of a two-year-old.

 

“You’re not coming in with me!” Sookie announced once she sensed he was just a step behind her while stabbing the key card into its slot with barely enough restraint to not break the flimsy plastic in the process.

 

“Yes, I am,” he assured, “What will people think if I’m suddenly without the love of my life?”

 

“Unlife,” she corrected. “Regardless, just go somewhere else.”

 

“Nope,” he announced triumphantly. She was about to protest again when he pulled the box from his pocket, popping the lid open and closed, the shiny and rather large diamond twinkling menacingly in warning. “Don’t make me whip it out!”

 

She huffed, “Whatever! I’m taking a shower. Don’t touch my stuff.”

 

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at her a little longer, making himself comfortable on the oversized chair, the only piece of furniture that didn’t smell so alluringly of her. Discovering a notebook hidden behind a pillow, and intrigued, he started to delve into it, hoping it was her diary, not that he cared what she thought of him, he couldn’t care less. Unless, maybe…

 

“Whatcha reading?” she demanded with a tap of her feet, hair dripping wet around her face. Disappointingly to Eric, she was dressed in the dowdiest set of pyjamas,  not like the protagonist in the pages before him, in her crotchless panties and garters, but little could contain his joy with his unexpected find.

 

“You’ve been writing a porno,” he said, holding up the evidence. “You dirty girl, and you certainly are a fan of the Fang! ‘Oh bite me, Rick! Rick sounds and awful lot like E-Rick, have you been having fantasies about me?”

 

“I have not!” she screeched, turning red instantly. “Give me that!”

 

“No!” he laughed while keeping it firmly out of reach in her attempt to get her hands on it, using his height and ability to hover to his advantage. He put on a falsetto tone, “’He shoved his pointy rod,’ Really, Sookie? Pointy? ‘into her aching pussy.’ Quite the smut muffin, aren’t you? Bet you can’t say those words aloud without turning the colour of a beet, but you sure can write them.”

 

“I did not write that!” she cried out while he continued to ignore her.

 

“’The ancient tattoos weren’t just around his neck, but covered his entire body, including his giant cock. Flanele bit his-‘” A rather unmanly screech escaped him along with his hold of the journal. “Who bites a penis?” he stammered, making Sookie wonder if he was genuinely traumatised. Quick to pick up the fallen item she hurriedly started scanning the text.

 

“Oh my God! This about Gran and Godric!” she shrieked. “Gran wrote a porno?”

 

“Starring my Maker,” Eric spat in disgust. “Leave it to the humans to make sex this depressing.”

 

Engrossed in the text, she momentarily forgot the vampire in the room. Her face contorted, a perfect mirror image of his, and remembering the fellow sufferer of this knowledge, she shared, “Oh my God, his… his thingy seems to be growing an inch by each chapter!”

 

“It’s called an erection, you idiot!” he growled, grasping the journal from her.

 

“I know what an erection is, asshole!” she yelled, trying to retrieve it once again, straddling his lap in the process. “Look, nine inches, then ten, what the hell would you do with twelve? And she can’t even get two hands around it? Oh, my God, this is so gross!”

 

“Give it back!” he growled, pulling hard while she continued to resist. “This should never see the light of day again!”

 

“No! You big bully!” she yelled back, the two engaging in a tug of war in the process, neither one willing to relent till Sookie suddenly found herself bruising her ass with half of the journal in her hands, Eric holding the remnant while pages floated through the air. Their faces met in shock over what they had done, only hearing the interrupting cough in the room on the second try.  “What are you two doing?”

 

 

>

 

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A/N: Like most of this story this is in parts influenced by my weird and wonderful conversations with msbuffy. In this case I turned her onto a hilarious podcast that narrates without a doubt the most questionable piece of erotic literature ever written by the man’s poor son with a good dose of humour and well I couldn’t not let Gran follow in those elusive footsteps. Find the podcast, My Dad Wrote a Porno here (there’s several options of listening and following available beyond itunes), it’s absolutely hilarious just make sure there aren’t too many people around if you have headphones on…

 

So Sookie’s caught up with the fact that Eric is most definitely not into Claude… hmmm… this spells trouble… there are things in his pockets and he’s not afraid to use them, which can only be good! Right? Did y’all like Eric’s revenge?

 

Much thanks to msbuffy without whom this possibly wouldn’t exist 😀