OOM of sorts - outside at night

[onceaviking]

This is not a moonlit stroll hand in hand.

Eric is obviously headed somewhere specific and he steers Emcee in the right direction with a firm hand on his neck.

The night is pleasant and starlit. The animals stay away though. Most animals give vampires a wide berth and the wildlife around Milliways is no exception.

Finally, they reach a small cluster of trees not too far from the lake and Eric stops, turning to look down at Emcee. He looks right at home here, in the darkness.

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[onceaviking]

"That is what I like about you, Emcee," Eric says. Using his name, or at least the one he has chosen.

"Survives and those who can see through the bullshit. Those are people I can stand being around."

He puts an arm around Emcee's shoulders, to guide him along in the dark.

The walk itself is uneventful and Eric's arm stays in place as they walk through the main room and up the stairs.

His room is tidy and he remembered correctly. There is a decanter, half filled with wine, on the low table.

[i_am_your_host]

He smirks up at him.

"Well now, doesn't that make me feel special?"

Yes, his tone is as wry and teasing as it always is, but he can't help that feeling deep down that he's earned something. And he is grateful that he trusts him.

And goddamn it, he will indulge in having Eric's arm around his shoulders. He is level-headed enough to not read anything into it, of course, but he'll save the fantasies for later.

He also wonders if anyone will notice him going upstairs with this hot guy. That had always been a thing for him at the Klub -- when people look on in envy as someone particularly attractive chooses to spend some private time with him. It's all a game, really. All a game.

Once inside Eric's room, he sheds his coat and drapes it on one of the chairs by the low table.

"I'm going to have to stop wearing white whenever I plan on seeing you," he remarks ruefully as he starts to unbutton his bloodstained shirt.

[onceaviking]

"You can have Bar replace it. While you're having breakfast," Eric says, walking across the room to switch on his laptop.

The generous giver of gold. That's what a chieftain was. How else would he have kept his men loyal? Eric likes being able to be off-handedly generous. It feels right.

He sits down, his attention already mostly on the screen in front of him. It paints his cheekbones blue and castis his eyes in shadow,

[i_am_your_host]

He pauses and looks at him from across the room, already turned to the machine on the desk. He didn't expect the offer and he's about to protest, but why look a gift horse in the mouth?

"...Thank you. I'll be sure to take the shirt with me, by the way," he says wryly as he lays the garment over his coat.

He then helps himself to a glass of that wine.

[onceaviking]

"Yes, that'd be good," Eric says, looking up briefly.

"I will be going home soon. Likely some time tomorrow night. Can't be running around trying to,return discarded pieces of clothing.

He manages to keep his tone light, meaning that he is almost back to normal. In control again.

[i_am_your_host]

He smirks. He then toes off his boots and settles back in the chair, bringing one foot up underneath him, the glass of wine cupped in his hands.

"I'm glad you have your priorities straight, darling."

A pause.

"And it's good that you've decided to go home," he adds quietly.

Another pause.

"Any longer and I might have run out of ways to entertain you."

He takes a sip of wine.

[onceaviking]

Eric returns his gaze to the screen.
"You've been doing okay so far," he says. Not addressing anything else, because he can hear the sympathy in Emcee's voice. And he doesn't know what to do with it.

"I don't know when I'll be able to go back. Then again, last time it had seemingly only been a couple of days here, while I had been gone a century, so -"

He shrugs.

[i_am_your_host]

When the Emcee realizes what he's saying, it actually hits him with a slight pang, and he knits his brow. He hadn't even considered the possibility of not seeing him for a while. Or again.

"The door is fickle, and time between worlds works in mysterious ways," he murmurs against the rim of the wine glass.

"Don't concern yourself with it. I'm sure you'll find the door again when it wants you to find it."

[onceaviking]

"It's worked so far," Eric agrees, looking over at him.
"Who knows. I might be able to show you Fangtasia at some point yet."

And if it wasn't too risky, arranging some sort of burlesque show would certainly impress Sophie-Ann. With the right girls at least.

He opens a spreadsheet and runs his eyes down the columns, brows slightly knitted in concentration.

[i_am_your_host]

He brightens at that. "Now that is certainly something I can look forward to."

As he takes another sip of wine, he studies Eric's face bathed in the glow of the screen, shadows surrounding his deep-set eyes and throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"May I ask what it is that you're doing now? I haven't much of a head for modern technology, but I am curious."

[onceaviking]

"I'm going over the books for Fangtasia," Eric replies. "Terribly mundane, I know, but I do have a business to run and I would never put all my faith in my accountant."

He enters something in the spreadsheet and looks over at Emcee. "And there are revenue sources my accountant doesn't know about."
Of course.

"The software can do a lot of the calculations so it's progress compared to the pens and paper method. "

[i_am_your_host]

The Emcee has no idea what software is (he could probably turn the word into a naughty innuendo) but the rest he gets.

"Sounds useful. And I like that you're involved. The man who owns the Kit Kat Klub does fairly little in terms of actually running the place. He has people who do it for him. The most he does on a practical level is fuck some promising young ingenue and bill her as the newest sensation, and I must put up with her for about six weeks before she runs off to Paris or London or wherever flighty little starlets go. And the cycle repeats."

A wry smile curves his lips.

"The business of show is far less glamorous to those who know how it works."

[onceaviking]

"That seems to be the case of most things," Eric remarks.

"And while I do partake of the pretty, young things working at Fangtasia, they tend to stick around. I am not a bad employer."

Some of them likely stick around because Eric Northman is their employer.

There is of course Ginger. But she is a special case

[i_am_your_host]

He drains the glass, relishing the warm buzz. Passing the backs of his fingers over the corner of his mouth, he wipes away a smudge of wine and flakes of dried blood.

"I wouldn't mind having you as a boss," he murmurs idly. "I tend to do as I'm told."

[onceaviking]

A smile ghosts across Eric's lips.
"That is certainly a quality I appreciate in my staff," he says.

"And while I am not certain that Shreveport is ready for you, we do get a lot of tourists. In fact, you would likely fit in very well in the proposed calendar that I am still not sure we are going to make."

And then he adds, as way of explanation, " A wall calendar with a photo for each month."

[i_am_your_host]

He tilts his head at him as an incredulous smirk twists his lips.

"You mean like a pinup? Me?" He snorts a chuckle, although he is rather flattered. "What would I have to do, pose seductively while showing the bite marks on my neck?"

[onceaviking]

"Well, it's a vampire calendar," Eric says. "Aimed at our human clientele. But I am thinking that the Halloween shot would work very well with a group. And an audience needs someone to identify with."

He starts tapping at the keyboard again.

"If we end up doing it, the suggestion is that I should start it off as Mr. January. With a white silk sheet."

Just a white silk sheet.

[i_am_your_host]

He bites his lower lip, unable to keep his grin at bay.

"If you do that, darling, people will be quite content to let it remain January for the entire year as they won't want to flip the page."

Setting the empty glass down on the table, he then gets to his feet with a slight stretch.

"Well. I ought to let you work. Would you mind terribly if took a shower? I won't be long, and I figure it might be a while until I get to use it again."

[onceaviking]

"No, go ahead," Eric says, once again turning his attention to the laptop.

"There are clean towels out there. I'll wash up later."

There are only fair traces of blood left around his mouth. It can wait.

[i_am_your_host]

"Danke schön," he chirps, and he slips out of his loose trousers right there, laying them over his other clothes on the back of the chair.

When he crosses the room toward the bathroom, he walks with ease and grace, comfortable in his own skin as ever. He doesn't give Eric another glance as he passes, but he does leave the door ajar. Whether or not Eric takes the wordless invitation is entirely up to him.

Fairly soon the sound of the shower running can be heard.

It really would be a pity if Eric didn't come back for a lengthy amount of time because not having access to this particular shower would become unbearable.

[onceaviking]

On the other hand, he does prefer to wash his face after he's been feeding.

Eric closes the laptop, undresses, and walks into the bathroom shortly after the shower has been turned on, gloriously naked and decorated with faint blood spatters.

[i_am_your_host]

Out of the corner of his eye, through the spray of water and thickening steam, the Emcee sees the door swing open wider.

He hides a pleased smirk by turning his face to the wall, his back to Eric. From the back he almost looks feminine, with pale, slender shoulders and a pert rear end.

Still wordless, he steps to the side to make room.

[onceaviking]

He does come close to her, as he stands there.
Enough for Eric's gaze to linger a little.

Then he steps under the spay and begins to wash. First things first, and he did decide to get clean.

This is another activity that has not changed much. And that he still enjoys. Moving his hands across his wet skin and through his wet hair.

He really is a big guy as he stands there, wet and naked and very close.

[i_am_your_host]

The Emcee's makeup is gone; the last residue of dried blood is scrubbed (gently) from his tender neck. His long fringe of ink-black hair falls over one eye.

He watches the water course down Eric's body in silence, his large hands as they skim over his skin. And then when he's sure he's done washing, he steps even closer to him, facing him, head ducked slightly in supplication with his eyes raised to Eric's face.

His makeup may have washed away but his eyelashes are still thick and dark and curling, and his parted lips are pink from the heat.

He touches Eric's hip.

"Allow me?"

[onceaviking]

Eric looks down at him with half-lidded eyes and then he leans back against the wall, widening his stance a little.
Making room.

His upper lip twitches, as it does right before his fangs come down.

He asks, he doesn't put on a phony show. Eric likes that.
For all that this is a game, he prefers it to be rooted in reality.