Devil in the details

Imagine Sookie's last blood induced dream lastetda little longer. Who knows... maybe she'd come to some pretty obvious realisations? This story starts at the end of Sookie's dream of Bill and Eric but it is NOT pro Bill. Spoilers for season four. One shot.

It's not betaed, so please, forgive me, because I'm not a native speaker. I only hope you can still have some fun reading it despite all mistakes I'm sure are there (it's been AGES since I've written more than a few sentences in English).

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Charlaine Harris and - sadly -Alan Ball, although I think someone should sue him for all the abuse and irreversible damage to their psyche.


At first it felt nice. Like: really nice. Exciting.

Having both of them. With me.

Admitting the possibility. Wanting. Demanding. Taking.

Without having to hide it. Without having to deny liking the very idea of it – even to myself. Maybe especially to myself. Without shame.

I got lost in the sensation of all the kissing and touching, roaming hands, wandering lips. Eric snaked an arm around me and pulled me closer to him, my back flash against his chest. His hands rested on my breasts and I moaned softly. I wasn't one to protest. It felt heavenly. It was hard to believe, that someone like him could be so gentle at times. You'd expect that such big and strong hands, seemingly designed to crushing and breaking, would be rough, but he could be oh so... tender. If he wanted to.

I let my head to roll back exposing my neck. Someone was stroking my thighs. Must be Bill. At least I think so, considering my breasts were still... in good hands. He kissed me and I kissed him back lazily. Eric's lips landed on the base of my neck and kept moving across my skin, past my jaw and to the secret magic spot behind my ear. His arm tightened around me possessively and he stifled a growl. I knew he wasn't anywhere near to okay with sharing me – neither of them was - but I let it slide, because, God, he was good with mouth. I was definitely looking forward to enjoying more of it later.

The feeling of it, all of this, was almost a soothing one, but with a deliciously spicy undertone. Now, I've seen many men's fantasies. When a guy think about a woman he wants, he usually visualize himself handling her as if she was one of those things you use are supposed to squeeze to relieve your stress – especially her tits. It was not like that at all. I felt wanted. I felt worshiped. And then:

"So how do we do it?" asked Bill in a breathy voice that didn't at all fit his practical question.

My eyes snapped open as I looked at him confused. He straightened himself.

"Wha... what do you mean?"

"I mean, how do we do this? How do you want it? If you want for us all to have sex at the same time, we need a plan."

I stared at him in disbelief. Was he fucking with me? Granted, he didn't look like he was, but...

"Don't stop," I told Eric firmly, when he froze mid-kiss.

He renewed his attentions and I sighted contently.

"I see a few options. Should I present them?" Bill continued.

"Uhm... sure..."

"Excellent. For one, you could blow one of us, while the other would... pleasure you."

What he really meant was 'fuck you' but he didn't want to use the word.

I shifted a little uncomfortably. Discussing it was weird. But I considered his words.

"Ugh. I don't know."

I tried to suck Bill a few times, but it was awkward. For one, I was really inexperienced and it showed. For two, Bill had always seemed to have slightly different idea of the appropriate rhythm and tempo, and tended to lose his patience at the end, which meant I ended choking and gagging. It was sloppy, it was messy and it hurt. It wasn't really fun. Eric, on the other hand, was much bigger than Bill and I knew even trying to fit all of him in my mouth was pointless. But he was more in control – never pushing me – and more relaxed about the whole thing (and very, very enthusiastic), so surprisingly I was more comfortable with the idea and I even think I'd been doing much better. So the reasonable thing to do would be to pick him for the receiving one.

But there was also a matter of fact that I really, really wanted to be on receiving end with him myself. Because – as I said – he WAS bigger. Definitely. Not only that, he had some serious skills in using what mother nature blessed him with. I've never had any problems with adjusting to his size. He made sure of it. He knew how to balance passionate and caring just right. Let's face it – he was simply better.

But it was not only this. Terrific technique and fun aside... There were the kisses. Each one of them felt like a religious experience. There was this look on his face when I knew he was listening to my heartbeat. Not hunger. Desire, yes. But not hunger. More like longing. And the laughter, too. Each time he said my name while making love to me made me feel... The way he touched me, as if I was the most precious thing in the world, as if everything else ceased to exist. The way he was holding me. The way he was looking at me with those deep, bright eyes. What the hell was in them, anyway? Lust, for sure. Rapture. Passion. Need. Trust.

He was my personal supernova.

I stroked his cheek affectionately. He licked the rim of my earlobe with the tip of his tongue. Mmmm. My beautiful, sweet, scary, sexy Viking.

Actually...

Wait a second...

"Or I could take care of you and Eric would take care of me," I heard Bill.

I felt Eric went rigid behind me and not in a good way.

"What the fuck?" he blurted aloud my exact thought.

Bill wanted to have sex with Eric?

"Sookie, I..." Eric started what was undoubtedly meant as a firm protest, but I cut him with a kiss.

I took a minute to shush him and try to calm him down by caressing his face. Finally he seemed to relax, but only fractionally.

"Bill," I said sharply turning to him. "That's not gonna happen. This is about me, not about you."

What was I thinking about before Bill's ridiculous proposal?

I had this thought... What was it...

Something was off. I couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but it was there.

The fact that Eric was nibbling at my neck wasn't making focusing any easier.

"So... What do you want me to do, Sookeh?" asked Bill.

Fortunately, his question brought me back on the right track.

What DID I want him to do? I said I wanted them both, but what for? I mean, really? In theory, it sounded cool, sexy and all that jazz, but in reality? When it came to details? I had no fucking clue.

I already established that Eric was better. In every department. And, truth to be told, quite capable of making me sensory overloaded without anybody's help. I didn't want to do some things with Bill – like going down on him, even thinking about it was icky – yet I was willing to do it with Eric. What did that mean? I didn't really want to have a threesome, for Goodness sake! I never had! It wasn't me. What came over me?

Why was I dreaming about this? Because, I was sure, that was not what I really wanted.

Why did I want a guy that I... didn't want?

"Bill," I asked innocently. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

Ugh. I cringed.

"You know, you were not in my other dreams," I said trying to appear sweet and brainless. "In fact, I have not been dreaming about you since... right after meeting you."

"Oh, it's because I gave you my blood again," he informed me smugly.

"Fuck," Eric muttered under his breath.

It was more like fuck me sideways.

Of course. Blood. I should have known.

"So? What do you want me to do?" prompted Bill.

I was thinking frantically what to do and how to get myself out of this fucked up situation. Something told me it was not that simple that I could just banish him from my dream. I was stuck with him.

And then, suddenly, I had an idea.

I gave him my saccharine, crazy smile and batted my lashes.

"I have a very important task for you," I coed. "Very special."

I felt Eric stiffen in distress and pulling me unconsciously closer to him. I stroked his forearms reassuringly. I was praying my trick would work.

"You do?" Bill asked hopefully.

"Oh yes."

"And what is it?"

"I want to do something for you."

"Sweetheart..."

"I need you to go to that chair on the other side of the room and sit comfortably."

He took his post in a flash. Good Lord, it was working...

"And now?" he asked eagerly.

"Now you... watch."

"Watch?"

"Yes, Bill, watch."

My cheeks were hurting from smiling.

"Can you do this for me, Bill?" I asked.

God, please...

"Of course, Sookeh."

Huh. Who would have thought? He even looked pleased.

"That's it?" asked Eric.

I turned to him – no need for me to look at Bill – and nodded. I might have crawl ed onto his lap then.

"How... resourceful of you," there was surprise, hope and a hint of amusement in his voice.

I smiled up at him and he smiled right back. It was a beautiful smile. His shoulders finally sagged in relief. He kissed me – and what a kiss it was! I felt dizzy.

I wrapped my arms around his neck – and my legs around his waist. I think I purred when his hands returned to exploring my body. He was very grabby all of sudden. I shifted my weight with a sole purpose in mind. Eric groaned. He was planting soft, lingering kisses on my face and neck and I was tracing the rim of his black, leather jacket with my fingertips. As sexy as it was, it needed to go.

"So..." he breathed in my ear in that low, slightly hoarse voice, that alone could make my knees buckle. "What do you want me to do?"

A shudder went down my spine. I hadn't noticed when Eric removed my bra, but it was not there anymore, so I leaned toward him pressing my naked chest against him and whispered back:

"Make me scream."

And he did.


...because I really don't know why anybody would feel any need to look for Bill, if they could have Eric.

Thank you for reading! I'd really like to hear what do you think.