Series: True Blood

Pairing: Eric Northman/Bill Compton

Length: Currently Unknown (WIP, chapter story)

Rating: G-NC17 depending on the chapter. Some chapters will contain slash, bondage, swearing, blood and gore. If it's not your thing, don't read.

Quick Authors Note: The year of this chapter is completely made up. I picked a year that I figured Sookie would have started showing special powers to the public, thus catching the interest of Sophie-Anne and sending Bill.

Chapter 2

~1995- Bon Tomp- Fangtasia~

The air in Fangtasgia was disgusting. A smoke filled cesspool of blood, bodies and addictions. In all honesty, it made Bill Compton feel sick. Sweat slicked bodies grinded together in fierce need under the harsh, multi-colored lights of the club. Everywhere Bill looked, necks where exposed to the vile, bloodsucking demons that overpopulated the floor. Fangs exposed, the hell-things caressed their throbbing veins protuding from their partner's paper thin skin, lingering in the brief teasing moments before the razor sharp teeth sank into their willing companions, draining them of their sweet elixir of life as the smog overcame them and the heavy beat of the music drowned their moans.

The way he saw it, the sooner Bill was out of here, the better.

All he needed was to find the Sheriff of Area 5. Eric Northman was his name. A thousand year old ex-Viking who had traveled the world, fought in countless wars, and seen things that others only had dreamed of. And now, for some unknown reason, he was here. In Bon Tomp, Louisiana, running a terribly cliche nightclub and watching over a mundane set of vampires that, more then likely, have never even heard of the words 'anarchy' or 'rebellion'.

Bill almost felt sorry for his elder. The boredom must have been overwhelming. Fortunately, that assumption made Eric extremely easy to pick out. A platform was risen at the far side of the club, it held a large chair near the back, and a lone, gleaming pole that stretched from the floor to the ceiling at the edge of the dimmed floor. But the decor was not what drew his attention. It the vampire that occupied the chair.

Built like the Viking he once was, Eric Northman was massive. Even in his chair, he held his towering stance over all the others in the club. Thick ribbons of muscle laced up his arms and down his legs, stopping to lick up his abdomen, stenciling in the lines of his body that could be easily seen through his thin, clinging t-shirt. His long blonde hair framed his face in silk tendrils that stretched to his chin, tickling past his sharp, hallowed cheekbones and stopping to rest in a slight curl under his jawline. But despite all of his beauty, it was his eyes that pulled Bill Compton to him. They were bloodshot, as most vampire's eyes were. Rimmed by a natural black shadow, Eric's eyes shone through stronger than any other feature he offered. The deep blue color was dull, listless from the uneventful, repetitious nights of in the small town he governed. Bill was overcome by the sudden urge to rip off any worthless head in that repulsive club to bring those pretty eyes back to life.

Shaking away his painfully and surprising sudden urges, Bill lowered his head and started to make his way across the blood streaked floor, pushing through the withering bodies to make his way towards the makeshift throne of his soon to be Sheriff.

Once reaching his destination, he rose his head to meet the slightly quizzical eyes of his elder. If his decayed heart still beat, Bill swore he would have blushed.

"Good evening, Sir. My name is-" Bill started.

"Bill Compton." Eric interrupted in a smooth, droning voice.

Bill raised a delicate eyebrow in surprise. "Yes, sir. Are you the Sheriff of Area 5?"

"Yes. Sophie-Anne warned me of your coming. We should talk." Eric sat up, his shadow masking Bill completely. He stepped off his stage and motioned Bill to follow him to his office, passing through his customers with no effort, almost as if gliding across the floor.

Once inside, he closed and locked the door, immediately drowning out all outside noise, leaving them in the blissful silence the room offered.

Waving his hand at the chair across from his large, polished desk, Eric mumbled, "Please. Sit."

Obeying his new leader, Bill sat in the overpriced chair, waited for Eric to take his seat at the large desk, then spoke up.

"As you said, sir, I was sent by the Queen to settle here. She wants me to-"

"I really don't care." Eric sighed. "Honestly, the knowledge of what Sophie-Anne does in her spare time, is of no use to me. What I want to know, is why you're here."

Taken back from the blunt rudeness towards their Queen, Bill took a moment before responding hesitantly.

"Well, I...I wanted to ask your permission to reside in your area, Sir." He stammered out after long moments of silence.

Eric raised an eyebrow, a look of curiosity crossing his features and sparking a light in those eyes that captivated Bill's attention.

"My permission?" Eric questioned, eyebrow still raised, although that beautiful spark had disappeared. Much to Bill's dismay.

Bill cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat, "Well, yes, sir. This is your Area. It would be rude of me not to obtain your permission."

That spark returned. Stronger then it had previously been, glowing from the center of Eric's eyes and spreading out to his temples. Bill was positively...enthralled.

"This is a first." Eric admitted, letting a slow smirk draw over his lips. Scratch that, Bill was now smitten. "I've never had a vampire follow the old rules and request my permission to take residence in my Area." The elder vampire leaned back, letting his head fall back behind the chair as he contemplated the situation for a moment. In this moment, he inadvertently exposed his thick, pale neck to Bill's helpless gaze.

Was there a stronger word for smitten? He had to wonder as his eyes drank in the sight of his long stretch of skin. Solid marble that covered his once most delicate vein, expanding down across his protruding collar bone and continuing down past the annoying black fabric that hid his taunt shoulders from Bill's eyes.

Eric suddenly lifted his head, forcing Bill to tear his eyes away and swallowed hard. Actually, he realized with humiliating clarity, that wasn't the only thing that was hard.

"Compton? That family was originally from here. Am I right?" Eric questioned, not noticing Bill's extreme discomfort. Or he did, and he just didn't care. From his first impression of Eric Northman, Bill was positive it was the latter.

"Y-yes. My family is from here." Bill mumbled, adjusting once again in a vain effort to hide his new problem.

Eric chuckled quietly. "That explains it. Perfect southern gentleman, aren't you Bill?"

"I try, sir. So, can I assume I will be granted your permission to reside in your Area?" Bill rushed out, desperate to leave the confining office before he had to stake himself in order to escape his embarrassment.

"Hmmm." Eric rolled his head back, causing Bill to let loose an uncontrollable whimper. It was quiet, short, undetectable by human ears.

But, unfortunately for Bill, the beings in the room were not human.

Eric's head snapped up at the sound. Seconds of silence ticked between them before that smirked spread to a full grin, white teeth glinting in the dull lights of the office.

"Bill Compton." He started, a cocky edge now teasing the edge of his tone. "I will let you take residence in my Area."

Bill nodded and started to get up, now more then ever ready to skip through daylight to flee the awkward scene he had created.

"On one condition."

Bill stopped mid-step. He clenched his eyes closed, dreading another moment in the presence of his current...fascination.

"Yes, sir?" He asked, still not facing Eric. Instead his gaze was locked lovingly on the door, longing to feel it under his hands when he pushed it open to ran far, far away from here.

"Come here." Eric whispered. Something else touched his voice this time, something Bill couldn't quite place.

Bill couldn't bring himself to turn. He knew Eric would see his...influence over him. That's when Bill learned that Eric is not a patient man.

Snarling, Eric darted forward, lunging at Bill and pressing him against the door, trapping Bill against the heavy metal and the impenetrable force of his captor.

"First impressions really aren't the way to go, these days, are they?" Eric mused, pressing the top of his head against Bill's shoulder blades and running both of his large, exploring hands down Bill's sides, forcing another inconspicuous whimper from the younger vampire.

"Here I thought you were a polite vampire, something I haven't seen in ages." Eric grunted as he pushed up against Bill, forcing his feet off the ground and suspending him against the hard weight of his body. "I thought you'd take orders like a good boy."

Bill was panting. He didn't need to breathe, but the habit was so ingrained in him, that he was pulling in huge mouthfuls of air, trying desperately to get the oxygen into his deteriorated lungs. He kicked his legs against the door, searching for the ground that had vanished from his feet moments ago. The motion caused his body to thrash against the elder vampire's, grinding back into him as Eric pressed him harder.

"God..." Eric muttered under his breath, losing himself to the friction for a split second before pressing his lips back against his withering companion's ear, letting his now exposed fangs drag across the delicate shell and delighting in the the responding shudder of pleasure from beneath him.

"You're not a good boy, are you Bill Compton?" he whispered huskily, arousal dripping from his words like forbidden venom. " You need to learn your place. Now, I can't have a disobedient young'in running around in my area," he groaned at Bill pushed back against him, still struggling to escape, "can I?"

Only another cut short whimper came from his new toy. Growing bored of his struggling, Eric clasped one arm across Bill's chest, holding him closer against him as he reached down and traced a light finger up and down the zipper of poor Mr. Compton's much too tight jeans.

That gave Eric the desired result. A low, guttural moan escape those thin lips, carrying a deep southern drawl that Eric had already grown to adore about the vampire.

"That's better." Eric laughed. "Now, for my request."

TBC