The blonde head and pink sweater stands out from the black leather and lace of Fangtasia like- well, a black sheep in a flock. Eric smiles.
He approaches the table she sits at as soon as Bill leaves to talk business with a vampire friend of his.
“I am charmed to see you here tonight, Ms. Stackhouse,” he says in his most sensual voice.
Sookie glares at him.
“Perhaps you would honor me with a dance while your boyfriend is otherwise occupied?” he holds out his hand.
“You’re a jerk,” she hisses, but follows him to the dance floor anyway.
After the whole fiasco with Sookie being attacked, recovering, and taking Lafayette out with her, Eric remembers that there is still a shredded human in the basement.
“Pam, clean the human bits in the basement,” he orders. She’s wearing a lovely blue sweater set- designer, no doubt- and it’s almost a shame to ruin it. She gives a token protest, but does as her maker says.
“You’re a jerk,” she informs him an hour later, covered from head to toe in blood, dirt, and various other things. “You owe me either three orgasms or an entourage of strippers.”
Late one evening, Eric strides into Merlotte’s, takes a seat at the bar, and glares at the few remaining humans until they pay their tabs and leave. Then, he glares at Arlene until she, too, takes the hint.
“You’re a jerk,” Sam tells him as he wipes down the bar. “It’s bad enough scaring off my customers, but did you have to kick out the only help I’d have cleaning up?”
“I could help you clean up,” Eric offers.
“Now why would you do that?”
“Perhaps I would like an evening alone with you,” Eric replies.
“You will bring your telepathic lady friend to Fangtasia tomorrow evening, or I will bring her myself, and I cannot vouch for how gently I will do it,” Eric orders his underling.
Bill glares, but there is nothing he can do. “You’re a jerk, Eric Northman.”
Eric smiles, predatory. “Oh, but you like it.” Then he is across the room, pressing his body against Bill’s and breathing the joyful scent of Bills arousal, confusion, and rage.
“Eric, get off me,” Bill protests. He is angry. Good. Makes the blood so much better.
“Not quite yet,” Eric purrs, and bites down.
When Lafayette gets home from work, Eric is sprawled on his couch, watching I Love Lucy reruns and generally making himself quite at home.
“Jesus, you can’t just show up here whenever you want,” he yelps.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Eric raises an eyebrow.
“You’s a real jerk sometimes, you know,” Lafayette informs him.
Later, when they’re both naked and tangled together, Eric whispers to him.
“Do me a favor? Call me jerk one more time.”
“Jerk, jerk, jerk, jerk,” Lafayette moans in time with Eric’s thrusts.
Eric decides he quite likes being a jerk.