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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[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.

[i_am_your_host]

He doesn't have to put on a show for Eric. He is what he is, but that doesn't mean he can't appeal to what Eric likes to sweeten the deal.

"Stop me whenever you wish."

Placing both hands on Eric's hips, he lowers himself to his knees. Then with slow, wet kisses, he follows the firm ridge of muscle just above his hip that leads down, down toward his cock. And he takes him into his mouth, inch by inch, tongue working at its underside, coaxing him to hardness.

[onceaviking]

Eric purrs and leans even further back against the wall.

And his fangs come down. Hard.

[i_am_your_host]

He can't decide which is the better sign that he's doing it right, the sound of Eric's rumbling purr or the sharp click of his fangs dropping.

Sliding his palms down Eric's thighs, he starts to bob his head, taking him in deeper and deeper with each swallow. He keeps it simple this time. No fancy tricks of his tongue (well, maybe one or two, occasionally), but mostly giving Eric something warm and soft to fuck.

He'll never get over how his cock feels in his mouth, so inhumanly cold, and when fully aroused, so supremely solid.

[onceaviking]

One of Eric's large hands settle at the back of Emcee's skull, cradling his head, as he begins to move.

Slowly.

Deeply.

Looking down at his own disappearing and reappearing cock.
Gasping a little.

[i_am_your_host]

His rhythm doesn't falter even at Eric's touch, which sends a warm thrill through him, but it's a sign for him to keep going. And he does so, moving in counterpoint to his hips, matching his slow and deliberate pace. Lips pressed tight around his shaft with each pull; tongue gliding underneath it with every swallow.

He keeps his eyes lowered. But he can tell Eric is watching.

And he's never really heard him gasp quite like that before. He hums with pleasure, his throat closing around his flesh.

[onceaviking]

It's good.

It makes him want to loose himself in the sensation.

It shouldn't . He's learned that. Humans don't keep, as he told Isabella. But there are too many of them here that he finds himself - not caring about. Of course not. But wanting to treat - gently.

After Dallas, everything seems more complicated. Feels more complicated.

But this. This is uncomplicated. Easy.

He increases his pace a little and then he tightens his fingers in Emcee's hair.
"Stop."

It's just courtesy. He can be courteous without it having some great significance.
Just like he can want to kiss Sookie without it meaning anything other than - that he wants to kiss an attractive woman and best William Compton.

He pulls back. Emcee will know why.
And there are two things in that, of course. One that he wants to spare him. Two, that he is close to coming.

[i_am_your_host]

When Eric says stop, Emcee stops. He did say that he did what he was told -- and so he lets his cock slip from his mouth, not even giving him a teasing parting flick of his tongue. He remains kneeling until Eric loosens his hold on him.

Perhaps it isn't such a good idea to want to remind him of his humanity, of the things he might miss. They're not important. Not as important as blood.

It's still in the Emcee's nature to give. And so after giving him this, it's his turn to give him some distance. Just to make things less complicated for the both of them.

He isn't stupid. But he might still be naïve about how close to death he sometimes comes.

[onceaviking]

It's an abrupt movement movement when he removes his fingers from Emcee's hair and he does physically move away as well.

His fangs are aching,

And he wants to come.

He growls as he turns his back to Emcee, leaning against the wall of the shower with one arm, pressing his forehead against it. Moving his hand aggressively, once, twice, and yes.

The blood spatters across the tiles as his hips snap forward. A dark spray that makes the wall look like it belongs in an abattoir, not in an upscale bathroom.

He leans against the wall, panting. Eyes closed.

[i_am_your_host]

His head snaps slightly to the side when Eric releases his hair, but he thinks nothing of it. But he's never seen him like this before, and he is too transfixed by his reaction to get to his feet right away.

And suddenly the water runs bright red on the shower stall floor.

It surprises him, but it doesn't shock him.

Slowly, without making any abrupt movements, he stands up and wipes the water from his face, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. A few moments pass.

"Are you all right?" he then asks quietly, though his tone is level.

[onceaviking]

Eric pushes away from the wall, nodding.
"Yes," he says. He sounds hoarse. A little edgy.

He runs a hand over his face and then he retracts his fangs.

"I don't normally - do this."
He looks at Emcee. To see his reaction perhaps.

[i_am_your_host]

He blinks drops of water off his eyelashes. He might be a little shaken on the inside, and Eric will hear it in his heartbeat, but he remains as calm as possible.

"I understand," he says, his voice still steady and quiet. "I offered. But I needn't ever do it again, if that's what you prefer."

He's not hurt. That much is clear. To comply and to adjust to others' wishes is also part of his nature (and his job). It's nothing personal.