Erik Northman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onceaviking) wrote2014-09-27 11:16 am
onceaviking) wrote2014-09-27 11:16 am
OOM - Beware of Swedes bearing gifts
Eric is slowly loosing his patience.
He's been parked here for several minutes now and someone still hasn't made an appearance.
It will rather ruin the effect if he has to actually walk up to that sad little shed and drag Lafayette out of it. So he honks again and tries to will the man to actually react.
He's got to be home. The light is on.
And it's not the only thing that has been lit up, judging from the smell.
He sighs.
And then finally something stirs.
He turns a little in the seat, running his hand across the leather upholstery.
Then he raises his hand and gives Lafayette a small, almost coy,three-fingered wave.
He's been parked here for several minutes now and someone still hasn't made an appearance.
It will rather ruin the effect if he has to actually walk up to that sad little shed and drag Lafayette out of it. So he honks again and tries to will the man to actually react.
He's got to be home. The light is on.
And it's not the only thing that has been lit up, judging from the smell.
He sighs.
And then finally something stirs.
He turns a little in the seat, running his hand across the leather upholstery.
Then he raises his hand and gives Lafayette a small, almost coy,three-fingered wave.
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Goddamn, he never figured Eric to be so...practical.
He stares at the keys for a moment and finds his palm opening up to catch them.
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He will never understand why people settle.
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Lafayette turns the keys over in his fingers, wondering why Eric is really giving (essentially) this car to him. A bribe. An incentive to keep selling. Something to keep him indebted.
Just because Eric's doing this don't suddenly make him a nice guy. And it certainly don't make up for three weeks in his dungeon.
"I ain't takin' on no more of your shit," he mutters, still looking at him askance. After he sells off this batch of V, that is it.
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You don't let humans talk back like that.
And yet, he finds himself so - something - with Lafayette.
Annoyed perhaps.
"You have great value, Lafayette," he finds himself saying. Insistently.
And he is a valuable tool for Eric. There can be no doubt about that.
"You're discreet, efficient, and you have a network of loyal customers with enormous disposable income.You could become quite wealthy if you wanted to."
Still quietly intense and insistent.
And he tells himself that he is merely trying to protect his investment. That a loyal Lafayette will be an asset even if Sophie-Ann realizes that the V business isn't for her.
Even though one might wonder why he doesn't just glamour him and get it over with?
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(His heart rate picks up in a spike of fear. Not arousal. Not arousal, goddammit. Never mind that his toes are curling in his slippers.)
But he swallows hard.
He's adamant about this.
"I don't need no more money."
It's said softly, not out of defiance or disrespect. Just...he's tired of it. And the trouble that it gets him into.
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"No? I never thought of you as lacking in ambition," he replies.
"But perhaps you're content with moth-eaten afghans and secondhand furniture."
It's a statement, not a question. But perhaps it will elicit some form of useful response.
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But this is sweet, sweet ride. Nothing wrong with showing off.
And maybe he could eventually replace his ratty afghans, but he'll keep his vintage furniture. Vintage.
And...there's his mama to support. Those bills don't pay themselves.
If Eric can be practical about this, why can't he?
Finally, he replies as noncommittal as possible:
"I'll think about it."
Somehow, Eric might know that his answer will be yes. After all, the car keys are still in his hand.
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Then he says, "Don't make me wait too long."
Offers like these do come with an expiration date. And as much as he can see the value in Lafayette, he'll sever all ties if it comes to that.
It's not like humans matter to him.
He gets out of the car, all long legs and firm ass and tight, tight jeans, saying, "You can owe me the dollar."
And then he is gone.
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And Lafayette totally does not check out Eric's ass when he gets out of the car, and totally does not notice the hem of his shirt rising a half inch to expose a sliver of bare skin in the process. No, he totally does not.
He looks back down at the car keys in his hand. And he runs his fingertips along a seam of smooth, buttery leather.
He sighs.
Everybody does have a price.