Author's Note: This is a joint vampwich story written by redandsparkly and latbfan (for more delicious smutty-smut, please visit the Wiki'd Women's Make Love Not War Contest: billswikidwomen (dot) wetpaint (dot) com).
Setting: Fangtasia, in the not too distant future, when this hot mess has been sorted out. Context is a mix of show/books. Story told from Sookie's point of view.
Synopsis: Sookie gets drunk and horny, and the menfolk, of course, take advantage. Will she regret this one time slip into threesome wantonness? Read on...
Far from being annoyed with the voices in my head from other people's thoughts, today it was my own internal thoughts that were driving me batshit crazy. You're a bad, bad girl, Sookie Stackhouse, was a frequent one. Nice girls don't do what you did last night, was another. But the loudest one was the most noisy of all: What is he thinking about all this? With the tiredness, the aches and strains in various places (even with all the blood), the x-rated images from the night before flashing like a flip-book, and the shrill voices in my head dogging me every other minute, I was one step away from standing in the middle of the bar, screaming and cussing fit to wake the dead.
Instead, I worked like a robot, smiling sweetly at the customers to hustle for tips, gossiping with Tara and Arlene as if nothing was bothering me, trying to ignore the dampness down below that wouldn't seem to stop and Sam's questioning looks and dilated pupils as he smelled it. The lunch shift cleared out, and the short winter day drew to a close. Normally, I loved winter as I didn't have to wait so long for my fiancé to wake up, but today I wasn't sure I wanted him to wake at all. I was so embarrassed and worried that what we had struggled to rebuild over the last couple of months had been undone. Mostly though, I didn't want to face him because while my lips could smile and form the most ladylike words of denial, Bill would feel my blood, which was still simmering, and as I learned last night, the blood cannot lie.
You can't expect vampires to have much in the way of morals when it came to raw lust, bloodlust and otherwise, even Bill, but I was a different story. I had been brought up right, after all. At the time, of course, they'd assuaged my guilt. And seeing them together, the way they moved as if they were the ones who could read minds instead of me, Eric following Bill's directions without hesitation, well, that had ended my shyness. I was too wrapped up in selfish pleasure to stress about what unfolded so quickly and shockingly, but right about now, I would be happy not to see either of those two EVER again. Or maybe, what really bothered me, is that I wanted very much to see them, all of them, and soon. I wanted to know what they thought, if they'd gone to sleep as the sun rose thinking of what we'd done. I wandered if they'd dreamed of me, or each other, while they slept.
Regardless of how I decided I felt, it would be pretty easy to avoid Eric, as he rarely came to Bon Temps on friendly visits, only when he wanted something. Knowing him, he'd probably show up just to smirk and wink and make not so subtle suggestions about going another round, and I hated that the thought of round two made me rub my thighs together in exquisite anticipation. Avoiding Bill, when he lived next door and had promised to marry me as soon as it was legal in Louisiana, was totally impossible. Would he want to avoid me? Would he expect that sort of thing to happen all the time? What did this mean for us?
Augh!
I only vaguely remembered the trip home from Shreveport, being dazed and groggy after the naughty and energetic events that unfolded in the basement of the bar. If not for Bill's blood, I no doubt would've been completely unconscious. He'd carried me from the car and tucked me in bed by myself, it being mere minutes from dawn, still wearing only his shirt, my skin warm and fragrant and soft from the expensive oil they'd used in the bath. He had kissed me passionately and with tenderness before slipping downstairs to the hidey hole, which was a good sign, but things were bound to be awkward between us, given the messed up history we had and Eric's heavy involvement. The fact that he had obviously enjoyed himself during the experience was no indication he wasn't feeling jealous and uncertain today.
Was I jealous? Or maybe I was just uncertain?
I sighed for the hundredth time that afternoon, putting down the glass I had been polishing hard out for the last ten minutes as I stressed and fretted. I looked up, catching Tara's dark eyes studying me across the bar.
"Something wrong, Sookie? You've been acting kinda tired and distracted all day. Those god damn vampires causing trouble again?" She spoke sharply, her face registering concern. She had never entirely approved of my associations and probably never would, despite her own crazy actions with even weirder folks in recent months.
"You have noooo idea," I muttered. "I'm going outside for some air now; it's gone quiet in here. I'll be back in a spell." I turned on my heel and slipped out the back of the bar, keeping my eyes on the floor so I wouldn't draw the attention of Sam in his office or Lafayette in the kitchen. The back yard was bright and chilly in the late afternoon sun, but thankfully empty. I wandered some way into the trees and sat on a log, rubbing my arms to get rid of the sudden flare of goosebumps from the cold.
As the silence of the empty woods wrapped around me, I began to calm, my breathing slowing down and my mind no longer hopping and fizzing with anxiety. I closed my eyes and started to run over the events of the previous night at Fangtasia, letting myself think about it properly for the first time and unravelling my own actions, trying to work out whether what I had done had been catastrophically bad, or just the good kind of bad, before Bill showed up to escort me home.
***
The previous night:
I'd had a rough day at work with plenty of ornery customers, and being too tired to cook and not wanting anything deep fried and greasy from the bar, I hadn't said no when Bill offered to take me out for a late dinner at a Thai restaurant that had just opened in Shreveport. The strange, aromatic food had been so nice, and I'd had two big glasses of wine to go with it, so I was already pretty happy when we left the restaurant and dropped into Fangtasia on the way home. Quite often, I'd bitch when Bill took me there for business stuff during dates, but it was a Wednesday night and not too busy, and he had promised his computer tinkering wouldn't take too long.
The bar was fairly empty, but as Eric wasn't around much, I decided it was safer to hang around his office while Bill hunched over boss man's sleek black laptop, fixing some kind of accounting program he had set up months ago. Not that anyone messed with me in Fangtasia, but most of the vampires and minions in the Area 5 entourage weren't exactly easy company, and I had a low opinion of the fangbanging customers. Chow had brought us drinks, looking darn surly at having to provide a waiter's service, and I perched on the edge of Eric's desk happily gulping my third glass of Pinot Grigio and watching my handsome fiancé work.
I had a great buzz on, something I didn't usually allow myself, as it made it harder to block out the constant yammering of busy minds, but there weren't many humans around and hey, I'd had a tough day. I let my walls come down and my mind wander as I waited to go home, admiring my still tanned legs as they swung back and forth under my bunched up skirt and the vase of red roses that was curiously placed on an ugly metal shelf, presumably by Pam. I also admired the strong lines of my vampire's profile as he frowned at the laptop screen with great concentration, my restless gaze flicking downwards to watch the graceful movement of his long, white fingers over the keyboard.
He had such beautiful hands, so elegant and skilled, whether fixing things around my house, playing something lovely on the piano, or touching me in ways that always made me melt like butter. A light blush heated my face as I thought of exactly how he had employed those hands in bed last night.
Yeah, I was in that kind of mood.
Bill looked up, as alert as a hound to any tingling in my senses or increase in my heartbeat. His eyes, which were all different shades depending on light and mood, were a deep, warm blue. "Your thoughts are most distracting," he said huskily, not looking the least bit annoyed. I giggled and swooped in to kiss his smooth, pale forehead. "And I do believe you're quite drunk," he added, a hand reaching up to lace in my loose hair. He studied me as I shook my head in denial, then he chuckled when I hiccupped, giving myself away. He laid a small kiss on my parted lips. "Which will be quite pleasant for me later..."
I shivered at the hissed words, so quiet and low I felt my skin prickle and tighten, my face heating up even more. He kissed me again, his cool tongue flicking just inside my lower lip to tease a sensitive spot he knew well, and then he pushed me gently away, earning a pout and an impatient sigh. He leaned back in the black leather office chair and stretched in a very human fashion, his muscles shifting under his thin white shirt, the gorgeous sight of him making the tingly feeling worse.
"I will never get this finished with you sitting there looking so enticing," he said regretfully. "Why don't you go out into the bar? I sense that the customers have left, and I can hear Eric out there, growling at that foolish Ginger. You will be unlikely to be harassed or propositioned."
"I'm not so sure about that," I muttered darkly, and he smirked, seeming secure in the knowledge that the battle was won and any sleazy remarks from my ex lover were not likely to amount to much.
"I am sure you will deal with Eric in your usual sharp manner," he said with a little shrug. "And you do enjoy sparring with him still, I know it. I will only be ten minutes or so, and then we can go home."
My wine was finished, and I wanted some more, so I shrugged myself and hopped off the desk, still steady on my feet despite things being a little foggy. "Don't keep me waiting too long...who knows what will happen out there," I teased, smiling to soften my words. His gaze narrowed, and I waved my fingers at him flippantly, shimmying out the door, knowing he was watching me as I went and would listen in on what was going on in the bar, just in case. It didn't do any harm to keep a man on his toes, vampire or not.
When I closed the heavy steel door behind me and looked around, sure enough, the dingy red and grey space was empty apart from Ginger, who was slinking out the front entrance looking both sulky and scared out of her tiny brain, as usual clad in next to nothing except dozens of fang marks. Her 'dates' were less courteous than my two vampires about healing bites after feeding, and she always looked an awful mess. Bottles and glasses were strewn around everywhere, as the clean up usually happened during daylight hours. Eric and Chow were behind the bar, the dour Asian stacking glasses and Eric...I burst out laughing at the sight of him. More bottles littered the bar top, a pile of chopped fruit, a blender, and the huge, handsome badass was scowling at the mess.
His face brightened when he saw me coming. If he thought I was going to help him clean up... "Sookie!" he said delightedly. "Just the guinea pig I need! Sit down and try this, my lover."
"Stop calling me your lover. I ain't," I said crossly, approaching the bar and eyeing the cocktail glass he was holding out for me with great suspicion. "Ewww. I'm not drinking that. Vampires don't know how to make good cocktails. It's probably horrible." Chow glared at me. "Um, except for you of course," I mumbled. "Is that why Ginger was looking so scared, 'cause you tried to make her drink it?" I asked, turning my attention back to the less grumpy vampire. The drink was red, naturally, and as thick as treacle.
I took a seat, not missing the sneaky look down my cleavage from the Viking as I settled myself comfortably on the stool. Chow disappeared, and it was just us two alone at the bar, Eric trying to sweet talk me into taking a sip. I was thirsty, so I gave in fairly quickly, grimacing as the potent brew hit my stomach and burned. Strawberries, tequila, and some other things I couldn't identify.
"This isn't too bad," I said grudgingly. "But I think you're better at being a sheriff. Haven't you got some minions to bully or enemies to devour tonight?"
"Alas no." He grinned at me winningly. "Everyone is so wretchedly well behaved lately. It's boring. I even gave Pam the night off. She's on a date."
I wondered who would be brave and stupid enough to go on a date with Pam as I took another sip, eyeing Eric over the rim of my glass. I still found him annoyingly attractive, despite the fact he was bad to the bone. We hadn't lasted long: apparently, I was too high maintenance for him, and he was the most selfish, arrogant animal I'd ever met. And I couldn't really love anyone when I still loved my patient, devoted Bill with all my silly little heart, despite his faults and mine.
"What's with the drink, anyway?" I asked as I pushed the glass away. "I can't drink anymore of that. I'm not that desperate."
Eric smiled. "I thought Fangtasia should have a signature drink."
"So you can overcharge for it?"
"That's the general idea. I'm thinking of calling it the Bloody Viking." Before I could stop and remind myself to act like a lady, I laughed so hard I snorted. I had to lean over to catch my breath, and when I sat up, it was obvious Eric had again been enjoying the view down the front of my blouse. "What?" he asked. "What's wrong with the Bloody Viking?"
"First of all," I said, still choking back laughter. "Stop saying that out loud. Did it ever occur to you that not everyone wants a Viking?"
"They say once you've had a Viking, you never go back…" Eric teased as he pushed the drink-making things down the counter and got out fresh materials.
"I had you, and I went back," I countered, the wine having loosened my tongue.
"Ouch," Eric pouted, but he winked at me as he ducked below the bar and rummaged in the cooler.
"Besides," I added, not wanting to hurt his feelings, if Eric even had feelings. "Don't people in other places say 'bloody' like we would say…" My voice trailed off at the end, and I looked up at the ceiling.
"Say what?" Eric prompted, leaning over the bar with a frosty container in his hands. "What do people say, Sookie?"
I'd forgotten how broad Eric's chest was, or how wonderful it looked in a tight black t-shirt. "Fuck," I whispered, suddenly lost in his stormy-sea eyes. "Fucking Viking…"
Eric swallowed, which seemed odd because Eric doesn't need to swallow, and unlike other people, Eric doesn't get nervous about anything. "I wanted strawberries, but Pam thought raspberries would be more aesthetically pleasing," he said, licking his lips. Never breaking eye contact, he flipped off the lid and dipped his finger inside. "What do you think?" He lightly rubbed my bottom lip with the cold puree that did look remarkably like blood.
My tongue flicked out to catch the sweet fruit, and I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth. "It's good," I finally said.
Eric dipped his finger into the container again and held it in front of me. I leaned towards him and tentatively licked the red from his finger. He closed his eyes when I put my hand on his wrist to move him closer and put his whole finger into my mouth, swirling my tongue along his cool skin to capture the last traces of raspberry.
I leaned back when I only tasted him on my tongue, and I demurely smiled and glanced at him through my eyelashes. "I have to agree with Pam," I said. "Much more aesthetically pleasing… What are you going to do with it?"
Eric winked and set to work, adding the contents of several different bottles to a cocktail shaker at vampire-speed so I couldn't read the labels. He filled it with ice and shook vigorously, at last pouring the blood-red drink into a fresh glass.
"Madame," he said, bowing.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I said as I raised a sceptical eyebrow and sniffed the contents of the glass.
"That mission was already accomplished for me," he smirked.
I stuck my tongue out at him and took a tentative sip. "Oh, this is much better," I said. I took another drink. It wasn't too sweet, and it wasn't too strong, although I felt the burn of whatever alcohol he'd used in the back of my throat.
"How about a Viking Kiss?" he smouldered at me.
I shook my head as I swallowed the last of the drink, pushing the empty glass across the bar and nodding for him to make another. "You are so full of yourself."
"Would you have me any other way?" he grinned. He got a fresh glass, and he carefully rimmed it with a slice of lime, and then dipped it into reddened sugar. He poured the second drink and handed it to me, his fingers lingering on mine.
"I wouldn't have you at all," I said, drinking more than half of it in one, smooth swallow. "What about calling it a Vampire Kiss? For those of us who don't come here looking to kiss Vikings?" I teasingly blew a kiss at him before throwing back the rest of the drink. I licked the red sugar from the rim, and I watched as Eric's eyes followed my tongue. "Another?" I asked, holding the now clean glass out to him.
"You should wait a little bit," he replied in a husky voice. "I'm told that vodka creeps up on you…"
"I know other things that creep," I said.
"What about calling it a Sookie Kiss?" Eric ghosted the tips of his fingers on my lips, and then across my throat, tracing my vein as it wandered down into my shirt. "A Sookie Kiss… is heaven…"
"I think," I stammered. "That wouldn't attract as many fangbangers who don't know or care who Sookie is, let alone want to kiss her. Everyone loves Vampire's Kisses…"
"Do you?" he asked. I nodded, and before I could even blink, Eric vaulted the bar and was standing before me. He swivelled the barstool so my back was to the bar, put one cool hand on each of my knees, and gently spread my legs. He slid in between my thighs, resting his hands on the bar. "Do you want to kiss me, Sookie?" he asked.
I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that I was in an Eric-cage, safely trapped between the wooden bar and in his arms, with his sculpted chest inches away from my lips. His strange green-blue eyes bore into me, and I wished, for the first time, that I could be glamoured, that this decision didn't have to be mine. And then, maybe it was the wine or the Vampire Kisses talking, but suddenly, I didn't want to be the weak-woman wishing for someone else to be in charge.
I leaned forward and blew my hot breath onto his black Fangtasia t-shirt, feeling the cool rippling muscles beneath quiver. I bit down on his nipple through the thin cotton, and he growled as he forced my jaw up so that I was looking at him again, his lips painfully close to touching mine.
"Do you want to kiss me?" he whispered.
I swallowed. I felt my heart pounding in my head, and I rubbed my thighs against his muscular legs as a delicious warmth started low in my belly and spread lower still. "Yes, Eric," I finally said. "I want to kiss you."
His lips were so close to mine, and at the same time so painfully far away. Yet he hesitated. There was something in his eyes that I didn't recognize in Eric; he was raw and open. I was the one who moved that tiny bit to close the enormity of the gulf between us. I was the one who leaned into him, into that big, broad chest, and I pressed my lips against his.
He felt cool, cooler even than Bill, as if I was suddenly burning up in fever. For a second, he froze as if frightened, and I was suddenly afraid that this had all been another one of his jokes. I squeezed my eyes shut and wanted to kick myself for letting him egg me on, and I could imagine his triumphant grin when he pulled away to laugh at me.
Except he didn't pull away. He put his arms around me and pressed into me and kissed me the way a man kisses a woman when he's kissed her before and spends a long time thinking he'll never be able to kiss her again. It started out tentatively and almost shy, but then he rumbled low in his chest and sucked my lip into his mouth. I felt it when his fangs slid down, and I reached into his mouth with my tongue to lick one, and then the other. I tightened my thighs around his legs, and if I hadn't been leaning against the bar, I would've fallen off the barstool because I'd forgotten to breathe.
"Sookie," he murmured into my ear as he rubbed his nose against my hair and licked the vein on my throat. He ran his fingers down my arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and played on my knees before edging up the hem of my skirt. His hands teased by remaining chastely on my mid-thighs, only hinting at the magic I knew they could conjure. "Oh, Sookie, I've missed you…"
He leaned in for another kiss, this one demanding and rough as he wove his fingers into my hair. He sucked my tongue into his mouth, and I writhed against him as I pierced the tip of it on one of his fangs. He moaned when the drop of blood hit his tongue, tugging harshly on my hair.
His hands were at my bodice, teasing my nipples through the fabric, when I felt another hand, a smaller, elegant, gentle hand, caress my cheek.
"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" Bill's smooth voice whispered into my ear.
***
I was drunk, but not so drunk that I didn't feel my happy, horny mood collapse by several notches. I froze, contemplating my options, grateful Eric had now backed up somewhat and was eyeing Bill speculatively over the top of my head. It was probably a good idea to get out of the way fast, if there was going to be a fight, but then again, Eric could kick Bill's ass without even trying, and I couldn't have that. I threw my arms out in defence, nearly falling off my stool, and screeched-
"Don't even think about it!"
I closed my eyes and wished I could sink into the floor and hide in Fangtasia's nasty basement with the rats. But instead of the expected hissing and growling, I heard Eric snicker, and a soft, cool voice whispering urgently in my ear, familiar hands reaching for mine and bringing my arms down to rest at my sides.
"Sookie...Sookie, look at me."
Oh man, I sooo didn't want to, but I had no choice. I twisted in my seat, my cheeks burning crimson as I turned to face my fiancé, my eyes everywhere but on his. Fingertips skimmed over my jaw line, lifting my drooping head. The blue eyes that found me and pinned me to the spot weren't full of hurt and rage, but oddly intense, a blend of emotions that was downright confusing. One thing was obvious, his fangs were out, glistening white between his beautifully cut lips. How could I have just kissed Eric and hoped for more when I had everything I wanted in Bill? I did not understand myself.
I hiccupped miserably, hunting for the right words to explain my actions, but before I could start babbling, his mouth claimed mine. He poured everything into that kiss. I felt it in my toes, the scent and taste of him both familiar and exciting, but with something new and dark and dangerous lurking beneath his tightly controlled surface.
"Oh, how sweet," I heard Eric sarcastically say, but I ignored him, throwing myself into the black pool of my lover's mind, hearing nothing and feeling everything. Liquid heat flooded my belly, and I moaned for him, even as the bad part of my brain compared his kiss with Eric's. This was better, but still...that bad part of me had wandered many times to a fantasy so wrong and so impossible I rarely admitted it existed to myself. But it did exist, and I was having it now, imagining what it would be like to take both of them to my bed, to feel two sets of hands and mouths and fangs on my greedy flesh, to feel both of them inside me, sharing me as they never could in real life.
I slid off my seat, only Bill's strong hands keeping me from collapse, and the blood I'd taken from him and Eric, and the blood they'd taken from me, sang to each one of us, and they knew. They knew what I was thinking. The stool went crashing to the floor, and another pair of hands grasped my waist, holding me against the bar securely. I was caught in another compromising position, but I wasn't hurting anyone, except my good girl self.
I wanted the damn bar out of the way now, so I could enjoy my vampire sandwich while it lasted. My wish was granted: big hands pulled me backwards, pressing my ass into the hollow of Eric's pelvis, something solid and thick and alarming felt keenly through my thin cotton skirt. I gasped for much needed air, blinking stupidly at the blur of movement as Bill moved to stand before me. I hid like a coward, annoying prickles of conscience flaring up like sparks, and buried my face in his silent chest.
"You two were distracting me when I was working," he said coolly, as if nothing unusual was going on, his hand tugging gently at my hair to bring me out in the open. "Your problem's corrected, by the way."
"Excellent," Eric beamed. "And so sorry, Bill," Eric said as he lifted his free hand to his lips and began kissing and licking his fingers. Bill's fingers. My Bill's fingers, and Eric was nibbling them. What the...? "That was incredibly thoughtless of us."
Bill smiled at Eric. "Apology accepted. Payment for services rendered can be deposited into my account as usual." Eric nodded.
"Well," I said, bristling and sliding out from between their two bodies. My movement rubbed my butt against Eric's impressive package once again, and I whimpered just a little as he ground his hips subtly into me, but I was determined to wriggle myself out of this situation. Good girl, Sookie, I told myself. "Thank you for… well…" I cleared my throat. "Just thank you, Eric. If Bill's finished, we'll be leaving now."
"Please don't," Eric said, catching my face between his hands. He didn't look like a powerful, political Sheriff in that moment. He wasn't teasing for once, and he looked like an eager boy, ancient and young, all at the same time. "Stay," he whispered. "Please stay."
"Eric," I stammered, thoroughly torn. "I am Bill's…"
Bill wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back towards him. "I love it when you say that," he murmured into my hair. "But that has nothing to do with our staying or leaving, just so you know…" I gasped loudly. He shrugged. "I know what you'll say, Sookie, and if you makes you feel better, you go right ahead and tell me about how you're a good, Christian girl who was raised right. I know that. I know that better than you do…" He placed a tiny peck on my lips. "But that fact is not mutually exclusive with occasionally experiencing other… pleasures…"
"You could argue," Eric said, his fingers once again teasing the hem of my skirt. "But your other lips agree with me."
"You're disgusting," I said. Eric shrugged, unapologetic, and winked at Bill.
"The blood does not lie," Bill soothed. He placed his cool hand over my rapidly beating heart. "The blood cannot lie. I feel you, Sookie. I feel what you want."
I shook my head and closed my eyes. "I'm drunk," I began.
"You're uninhibited, not incoherent." Eric interrupted. "You're not being so damn stubborn and fighting everyone and everything all the fucking time just for spite."
I glared at Eric, shocked at his sudden outburst. "I'm fairly certain what you're suggesting is illegal in Louisiana." I sniffed, trying with all my might to pretend I wasn't more than intrigued.
Eric shrugged. "Practically everything is illegal in this state."
"Sweetheart, look at me," Bill gently commanded. I shook my head. "Please." I turned and stared into his eyes. I saw the smouldering desire, and I saw his love for me. That was real, even if the rest of this crazy situation was not.
"Do you want this?" I whispered, giving up the act. "I can't imagine you would want to, that you would be willing to share me."
Bill shrugged. "This is just for tonight, Sookie. We're not bringing him home with us."
Eric sniffed disdainfully. "As if I would ever consent to live in squalor in that little dump of a town…"
"Don't press your luck," Bill interrupted, his eyes never leaving mine.
"But he's your Sheriff," I said. "What if he orders you to do something…"
"In this particular arrangement, I will fully submit to Bill's wishes, since you are his," Eric said solemnly, then added with his patented smirk, "Consider it a belated engagement present." I snorted and tossed my head.
"Do you trust me?" Bill asked, bringing my attention back entirely to him. My brain could come up with a bunch of reasons to say no, but the truth was that Bill would die protecting me. In my heart, I knew that. Bill loved me more than his own life.
"I trust you," I finally said, my tongue thick with drink and nerves, my senses reeling from the series of shocks I'd had during the last ten minutes. My eyes flicked between the two of them, wondering what I should do next.
With a trembling hand I reached out, stroking my lover's calm face, then the smirking lips of my other lover. Eric caught my hand and nipped lightly at my fingers. "I have a place downstairs," he purred. I grimaced, knowing exactly how horrible it was down there, and he laughed. "No, not the dungeon, you silly woman. A secret place."
***
Eric took my hand in his and started walking towards his office. I could feel Bill right behind me, so close my bottom occasionally brushed up against the obvious hardness in his pants. Eric shut and locked his office door, and then pushed against a metal shelving unit that was full of liquor bottles and boxes of t-shirts and Pam's vase of roses. The inconspicuous shelf silently opened, revealing a metal door with a keypad behind it.
"What the heck?" I said. Bill's hands felt cool on my waist as he pulled me back into him, grinding his hips into my bottom as he nibbled on the spot behind my ear.
Eric grinned at Bill over my shoulder. "I like having escape routes. It's a safe room."
"Did you know about this?" I asked Bill. He nodded, his mouth preoccupied on my neck. "Wait," I said, shrugging him off. "Why didn't I know there's a Den of Sin below Fangtasia? Why don't y'all ever tell me anything?"
Eric sighed and once more spoke to Bill over me, as if I weren't even there. "I suppose her inability to read non-verbal cues is from hearing the inner thoughts of humans her whole life? There are times she's woefully and frustratingly dense."
"Hey mister," I interjected. "I'm right here, and I'm not deaf, thank you very much."
Eric looked at me the way one would look at a toddler throwing a tantrum, and it irritated me. I opened my mouth to speak, but he covered it with one of his large hands. "Sookie," he said. "Have you never noticed that, when you aren't involved, Bill and I actually get along?" I stopped resisting him and shook my head no. "I thought not," Eric continued. "Well, we do. I've known him for over a hundred years, nearly his entire immortal existence, and we've only had problems since you sashayed your way into my bar, playing the Virgin Super-Sleuth." I opened my mouth to defend myself, and once more, he pressed his hand to stop me. "We have philosophical differences, as friends are wont to do, but never conflict until you arrived on the scene. While you're thinking about that, please consider that I've known Bill longer than you have. I fucked him before your grandmother was even born. I know him better than you do, and unless you change your simple mortal mind, I'll know him long after your body has turned to dust."
I squeaked and shrunk back into Bill. Eric looked weary as he removed his hand. "Eric, that's really not the best way to begin our evening," Bill gently scolded him.
"Y'all have…" I asked, moving my hand back and forth between them, not wanting to say the words out loud.
Eric threw back his head and laughed with such force he had to wipe a bloody tear from one eye. Bill merely pulled me to him and nodded against my neck. "Yes, sweetheart. We have been intimate."
"Oh, I apologize," Eric sincerely said, raising my hand to his lips and kissing it. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that… Well…" He looked away. "I've missed you, Sookie," he said, all laughter gone from his voice. "I've missed Bill. I really want this, and when you've lived as long as I have, you learn it's best to not to really want anything." He shrugged and grinned at Bill. "And so help me, I never thought I'd meet someone more obnoxiously self-righteous than you, and yet, here she is, standing before me in all her glory." He shook his head as if bemused and typed in a code at vampire speed so the tiny electronic beeps sounded almost like one tone. After that, he opened his eye and allowed it to be scanned.
The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a staircase that led down into darkness. Eric held out his hand to me. "Shall we?" I swallowed and peered into the dark, trying to distinguish something, anything, in the black. "Sookie," Eric patiently said. "Has any harm ever come to you while in my presence?"
I opened my mouth to argue, but closed it when nothing came to mind. I'd been held by the Fellowship, but it had been my idea to go in as a spy. Eric hadn't stopped me, of course, but he had come to rescue me when I didn't return. He'd protected me at the Dallas nest bombing, and many other times. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I'd not been physically harmed in his presence. Not ever.
"You can trust me too, you know," Eric finally said.
I shook my head. "No, I can't."
"You can tonight," he said. "Please." He held out his hand for me again, waiting for me to take it of my own accord. Bill squeezed me encouragingly, and I nodded my head and, so help me, placed my hand and my trust in Eric Northman.