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The Viking and the Stud

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The Viking and the Stud aka How Eric Fucked Jason


As Sookie is forced to handle the glaring of her boss, Eric turns without a word, each step that carries him and Jason closer to the door of the bar is dripping sexual frustration and animal magnetism. He roughly lets the man's elbow go, knowing that the little treat wouldn't be pulling away from him any time soon since he had already been well glamoured. Once out the door of the bar, into the fresh air that didn't mean a damn thing to the Viking, he feels as if he could breathe easier .. if he had true need of such a thing. But still, he casts a half-wearied glance toward the man next to him, knowing that the male Stackhouse probably hadn't envisioned the way his night was going to end when he first woke up this morning .. being back doored by a big ol' stud of a vampire who was bored, pissed off, and sporting a stiffy because of the boy's sister, among other things. Those pale eyes scan the parking lot, and on instinct, come to stop on the vehicle that is so obviously Jason's .. it just screamed brainless shitkicker. And yes, Eric was calling the pretty boy a common redneck hick in his thoughts, couldn't be helped. He was in a poor mood, and all things would suffer because of that mood .. at least, in his own thoughts they would suffer. He was currently impotent as far as physical violence went .. but, he was perfectly within his rights to a little bit of rough sex .. no covenant would bar him from -that-, damn it! Even HUMANS had the basic right of intercourse, and no one was going to deny him that most primitive form of release!

Jason actually swaggers .. it is the first endearing quality that Eric notices, because it reminds him of the brutish swagger of the Vikings of his time .. the kind of men that could march into an encampment and own everything in sight with nothing more than a growl and a glare .. people fell at their feet, begging protection, mercy .. so many other wonderful things. He licks his bottom lip absently; tongue flicking across the glistening flesh for a moment as he loses himself in thought, watching the near mesmerizing sway of those manly, yet slender hips. The boy didn't have an inch of fat on him, nothing but ass, thighs and muscle, fuck, but this was -WRONG- .. it -had- to be! Nothing this exciting, causing this much anticipation could be -right-! Oh .. wait .. that's probably why he wanted him so much!

He is drawn up short in his musings when he realizes that he is suddenly face to face with the sexpot. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out across Jason's sun kissed features, and Eric assumes it is probably because of the muggy Louisiana night .. not that it really affected him. But he heard those at Fangtasia bitching and moaning about it often enough .. however, it is the closeness of the other man that destroys his thoughts and leaves him floundering for a moment. Jason smelled of sweat .. vigor .. of vitality, of virile pheromones and overwhelming hormones. In short, he smelled like -LIFE-, and it is a heady, intoxicating scent that nearly sends him over the edge right then and there!

"It's, uh .. this one, Mister ..."

There was a slight tremor in Jason's voice as he stares down the vampire in front of him, despite Eric being a bit taller. Eric regards him silently for a moment, wondering absently why a Master vampire was suddenly worried of frightening the poor creature. Now that they were outside .. all alone .. it was hard for him to hold the facade .. or maybe, it was just easier for him to let go of it all, to stop posturing and reveal that secret side that only one other had ever seen. A bit of that billy bad ass bluster fades, and he finds himself toeing the line of regret .. though he was not so repentant after Godric's visit that he would actually -cross- that line and regret his actions. So many people believed that Vampires were soulless .. and for all he knows, the moment he was turned, soul and body separated .. for all he knows, the true -essence- of himself is somewhere in Valhalla this very moment! So, if he has no soul, then why does he feel the capacity for regret … even if he had not yet truly –experienced- the emotion!? But then, who was he to engage in philosophical/theological debate? He had seen so many things change in the world: The rise and fall of nations, icons, religious beliefs, and none of it had left a lasting mark on the withered organ called his heart. But, back on point, eh? As Jason turns, and lifts those beguiling baby blues on him to point out that the truck in their general vicinity is in fact the illustrious POS that would be giving Eric a ride back to Shreveport, the master vampire feels some slight twinge deep within, and that singular bout of emotion he so often denies, rears its ugly head, and he is left feeling … drained … and possessed with this insane need to be –truthful-! By Thor, if Godric were here at the moment, he’d surely be wearing a sweet little smirk to drive Eric insane over the fact that he was capable of some small sliver of decency! But, the bastard was not in Bon Temps … he was living in Eric’s lap of luxury at Fangtasia.

“Kid .. er .. Jason, was it? Listen … do you know what my intentions are?”

Upon calling the shitkicker ‘kid,’ Jason had begun to balk, and though he could not fight the power of the glamour, and what Eric had requested of him, the youth could still have his feelings hurt. And no amount of sexual prowess could get a stud hard if their wounded ego kept them flaccid. And even though Eric intended to top, he was not so cold and callous as to keep the toy form enjoying the encounter was well. Jason does something the vampire is sure is a most rare action … he down casts his gaze in embarrassment and maybe even a modicum of propriety.

“I reckon I do, Mister … you intend to bend me in half and .. I mean, uhm … you’re gonna fuck me.”

Awww, for a moment, Eric actually feels a surge of affection for the youth, the fact that he could stumble the words as if he were still innocent. Well, since he’d never slept with the likes of Eric, or even a vampire before, it wasn’t all that surprising that he felt a little out of his element. The Viking moves forward suddenly, one strong palm pressed against the sticky front of Jason’s tee shirt where it rests against his rock hard abs, fingers teasingly dragging the material against the man’s skin, feeling him squirm slightly as the Viking presses the human backward. Jason would suddenly find himself trapped between the front of his truck and the hard, marble-like body of the master vampire … the sudden position change causing the human’s heart to hammer within his chest, aromatic blood pumping pheromones and adrenaline through his body, making Eric want to moan lustfully, though he manages to keep himself in check … somewhat.

“That’s right, Jason … I’m going to slick up that pretty, puckered little hole of yours and ride you until you cum all over yourself … are you alright with that?”

He wants to kick himself for actually asking, as if what this puny little human wants should mean two shits to him! Maybe he had hoped that the blunt nature of his words would shock the youth in to thinking straight, or would give the little sex-pot a way out of this. And yet, he –knows- that he was not forcing the man to do anything he didn’t want to … he could feel the genuine excitement and repressed desire in the man. As with most that age, deep southern or not, the thought of the sexually forbidden was enough to rev that over-sexed motor of his. Most men had seen at least one man that had them fucking their own palm behind closed doors, swearing up and down to themselves that they –aren’t- thinking that way as they shamefully cum all over their hands, or fill their poor little sock before shoving it to the bottom of the hamper. Even back in his day, he did not understand the taboo people placed on their bodies. But then … in his day and age, men and women could take on multiple partners, and no one gave a damn … as long as they were producing strong warriors to continue the clan, their sexual desires were their own.

Jason physically trembles beneath Eric’s touch, thick, feminine lashes fluttering desperately, as if he somehow hopes that it will clear his vision, or maybe, more accurately, remove this temptation from him! Well, one thing could be said for the male Stackhouse … he was never the type to mince words, since he didn’t know enough to really impress anyone … barely knew enough to get his point across most times. So, he does the one thing that is so much better than words: He acts. His hand, sweaty and sticky, reaches out to yank the hem of Eric’s shirt from the waist band of his leather pants, strong, slender fingers inching between flesh and fabric until his sticky palm is sliding across the swollen curve of Eric’s cock, the vampire outright growling with feral lust as he bucks his strong hips against the hand … grinding that hard expanse of rigid muscle against the seeking touch.

“Mister, long as you don’t expect me to –suck- nothin’, I’m all for this little … adventure. Long as no one finds out … reputation and all.”

Eric almost snickers and sneers at the man, because as far as he was concerned, Jason Stackhouse would most –definitely- be suckin something … as long as he proved to be a good lay. And judging from the hand that worked his hard on like a high dollar pro, he had a feeling the boy would take it like the perfect little bitch!

“You’re very lucky you said that, Jason … and my name is Eric … remember it … because I expect you to scream it long and hard, little one.”

Jason actually balks at those words, and yet, it’s –not- at the thought of screaming the vampire’s name, it’s at the word –LITTLE- being used in any way to describe him. He’s half tempted to whip it out right then and there and correct the little remark, but damned if that wouldn’t take up the precious time in which he could be getting laid! And yes, he was that shallow and that predictable.

“Get in the truck, Fangs, and let’s get out of here.”


The hotel door opens with a bang, the faux brass knob slamming into the wall with enough force to rip a hole in the cheap plaster patching that had been applied to hide other such infractions. Of course, that’s not really the hole that matters …

Jason is the first to enter the room, his hand the one to have committed the offense of throwing the door without giving a damn where it landed. When the sound of cracking plaster registers, human and vampire turn as one to see the door stuck in the hole, Jason laughing nervously, Eric rolling his eyes in irritation.

“Cheap fucking walls.”

Eric hisses almost absently as he wrenches the door free and sends it slamming closed. Jason jumps, surprised by the force of the vampire, knowing instinctively that if Eric so chose, he could use that force against him, and he’d never know he was dead until he was standin’ at the pearly gates. And that fact, that indisputable –truth- somehow makes the entire surreal situation that much –better-!

“Really not the –walls- that need to be fucking right now, Fangs.”

He growls the words with a demanding tone that takes Eric by surprise, so used to the meek little bitches that he banged halfheartedly at the club. In fact, Eric’s caught off guard enough that he has to struggle for something to say; too intent on watching the sway of Jason’s ass as he walks toward the half flat mattress they apparently called a bed in these parts. Honestly, if those jeans were any tighter, they’d be splitting at the seams … and they just might, yet.

“My name is Eric … not Fangs.”

He mumbles the words almost absently as he walks toward the bed, watching Jason collapse across the end of it in a position that just screamed ‘OFFERING.’ Jason props himself strategically, so that his hands are braced behind him on the mattress, leaving his body at the perfect angle so that the obvious bulge in his jeans was visible, so that the hem of his grungy tee shirt rode up to reveal the happy trail of hair across his navel to the top edge of his jeans, an open invitation for further exploration. He snickers softly at Eric’s words, laying back on the bed now.

“Oh? So, what happens if I call you Fangs … Fangs?”

Eric is moving before the poor human can even register it. Jason Stackhouse was –not- a little fella, he was a pure chord of muscle and sinew, so imagine his surprise when he’s lifted by the front of the shirt like a Raggedy Andy Doll and flipped before he can even take a breath. He finds himself on his stomach, stretched impossibly across Eric’s lap, his eyes wide as he tries to figure out what the –hell- had just happened.

“What’d you call me, boy?”

Jason gulps, his mouth suddenly dry, and honestly, it’s not as if blood was flowing to the right head at the moment. He tries to find his voice, but he can’t, especially when he feels Eric’s hand suddenly pressing against the flat of his ass, holding him still on his lap. He looked ridiculous … like a grown man bent over another grown man’s knee about to get his ass swatted, and he can’t understand how the hell it had happened.

“One last chance, Jason … what did you call me?”

Eric’s second hand slides in between his own legs, fingers suddenly stroking the bulge of Jason’s pants, making the poor human moan and writhe on his lap. What the hell was going on here!? Jason had gone from planning a bit of fun with Dawn to … whatever the hell was going on here … and he just doesn’t understand it! He moans deeply in the back of his throat when Eric unbuttons his jeans, the faint release of pressure almost as painful as it is relieving. Jason licks his dry lips again, his fuzzy mind groping for an answer that he just can’t seem to find. The sound of his jeans being unzipped, metal against metal, is suddenly deafening, and he actually whimpers in confusion as he feels the pants loosening even further, feels himself swelling, pulling against the material that still holds him captive. He had to answer, and fast, before this got any weirder … oh god! He moans lustfully when Eric’s fingers part the flap of his jeans, slide into the opening of his boxers and begin to stroke against his shaft. Wait, what was he supposed to be answering?

“P-please .. Eric …”

The vampire smirks almost wickedly at the heated, needful words, at the fact that he had the little jock bent across his lap –begging-, even if it was just two little words, it was still begging.

“That’s better, bikkja.”

His fingers continue to stroke along Jason’s shaft, though he does not yet pull the man from the binding of his pants and underwear, just teasing him for now. Jason moans, even whimpers as he writhes on Eric’s lap, the action two fold at the moment. Not only does it cause Eric’s fingers to stroke a little harder against the rigid muscle, it causes Jason’s side to rub against Eric’s own crotch, the vampire moaning faintly as he continues to tease the human mercilessly. Jason’s hands had been clenched into fists, almost touching the carpet where he’s draped over Eric’s lap, but as the vampire continues to tease him, his fingers slowly unfurl until he can lay his hands flat against the carpet, bracing himself perfectly. Eric is so distracted toying with the human that he is taken by surprise when Jason pushes himself up, out of Eric’s hold, the vampire forced flat on the bed by the movement. The human was trembling, his cock jutting from his open pants and the flap of his boxers, a mixed look of indignation and arousal contorting his sweaty features as he looks down at the vampire.

“Figured guys would know better than to be cockteases.”

Jason grouses softly as he tucks himself back in, best he can, before he’s up, onto the bed, knelt over Eric’s lap. The master vampire just sort of chuckles deeply, his hands sliding back to twine his fingers behind his short hair, watching the human ‘hovering’ over him.

“You’re obviously a first timer … men are the –worst- cockteases.”

Jason’s cheeks blanch before filling with a high blush at the words. He hated the implications of being a novice in –anything- because it implied that he wasn’t very good at something. He had been called stupid, thick, ignorant, etc his entire life, to the point he had allowed himself to begin believing it as well. It was easier to be the dumb jock. He slides his hands down Eric’s stomach, lifting the edge of his shirt so that he can stroke the muscles of the vampire’s abs, his eyes widening faintly at just how rock hard they were. The guy was like sculpted marble! His fingers continue downward, until he can catch upon the zipper of the leather pants, again, the sound of metal on metal was nearly deafening in the little motel room, the sudden cessation of it almost causing Jason to jump as he glances down into Eric’s upturned features. The vampire was handsome, there was no denying it … the strong jaw, boyish features despite the facial hair, and at the moment, the sort of cool, calm, collected interest that seemed more a facade than anything, but Jason didn’t mind. He was used to people sort of looking past him, only seeing what they need/want to see, so he was fine with the thought that this strange creature was just looking to get off … it meant they had something in common: That all important, all consuming, all demanding mistress known as the Orgasm.

“Lift up, Fa- Eric.”

The vampire’s eyes flash open when Jason almost repeats the offense of that little nickname, but at the same time, those masculine hips lift, thrusting up, against Jason’s crotch, causing the human to grunt with the effort of keeping himself still. He carefully works the skin tight leather down Eric’s thighs, rather impressed with the seeming ease of which Eric keeps his hips airborne, apparently unphased by the action. Eric’s eyes once more flutter closed, and for some reason, it makes it easier for Jason as he continues to work the leather down his legs, pulling it off once and for all. The material is cast to the side, Jason’s eyes wide for a moment as he sees the way Eric strains against his black satin underwear. Damn, but Stackhouse could just imagine how good those had to feel, all cool and satiny against your cock, it nearly makes him tremble for a moment.

But now wasn’t the time to daydream, especially when he finds himself feeling as if every inhibition had been stripped away … not realizing that it was the glamour that had emboldened him so. Those exploratory fingers continue to work, the leathers thrown somewhere off the bed, not that he really cared where at this point, his palm experimentally gliding across the satin covered bulge beneath him. Eric moans long and hard, those strong hips lifting insistently this time, thrusting across the probing hand almost demandingly. This was the only kind of torture that was truly a blessing as well as a curse, fore it had broke lesser men than he. Jason smirks with self-satisfaction as Eric’s hips rise against his touch, his own cock throbbing in response. God, just feeling him against his palm, how wide and hard he was … how the –hell- did he expect that to fit inside him!? He forces himself not to think in that direction, or he just might chicken out, and he really wasn’t looking forward to having to crawl back to Dawn to get his rocks off at this point.

Jason unconsciously licks his lips as his hand slides away from Eric’s erection, hooking his fingers into the Vampire’s underwear, once more prompting him to lift his hips so that he can pull the material off. Of course, they also get flung haphazardly into the room around them. For some reason, Jason finds himself thinking of the bed as an island of sorts … an unknown nation with defined borders, and anything can happen there, but outside that nation, beyond those borders … it would never be spoken of. Eric realizes, as Jason sits there musing, that he’s now fully naked, and the human is still fully clothed. He curses too low for Jason to hear, and the human suddenly finds himself on his back beneath the naked vampire, his heart beating faster, his blood pumping harder as he looks up into the sneering, ethereal features of the master.

“You are far too clothed for what I have planned, bikkja.”

Those strong hands reach up to grasp Jason’s tee shirt at the collar, a wicked little half smirk making the human’s cock throb in anticipation, though he doesn’t know exactly what’s going to happen. Of course, Eric does not disappoint, the sudden sound of ripping fabric causing Jason to gasp as his tee his ripped down the middle, exposing his glistening pecs, abs … -heart-. Eric moans wantonly, but can’t allow himself to stop else he begins to think of doing something monumentally stupid. He peels the fabric out from under Jason’s torso and shoves it to the side, not bothering to watch as it slithers off the side of the bed and galls to the floor below. Next, those pesky jeans! He grabs the flaps of the material a little too tight, Jason wincing when he hears the denim ripping at the crotch.

“Damn it, those are my favorite jeans, Fangs!”

“Watch it, kid, or I’m going to fuck you dry ... and that might cause a frenzy. I don’t think you want that.”

It actually takes a moment for the human to get what he means, and when he does understand, his eyes widen and his mouth shuts with a snap. Yeah, he’d much rather the jeans get ripped open than for his asshole to. He lifts his hips as the denim is roughly worked down his thighs and legs, finally just ripped off, leaving him in his boxers. Afterward, he’d never be able to explain what happened, or where the hell he got the sudden boldness to do it, but as Eric hovers over him, he suddenly lifts a foot, pressing the heel against Eric’s chest, ‘holding him at bay’ for a moment. As Eric watches, Jason reaches down, peels the split in his boxers open so that his cock juts through. He takes himself into one hand, stroking from the base to the tip, moaning heatedly as he does, the movement slow, teasing, downright sensual. Eric twitches and almost whimpers … -almost-. He did not even whimper for –Godric- … no way was he about to whimper for this silly little human.

“Now who’s the goddamn cocktease?”

He snarls the words softly, though he doesn’t try to move, doesn’t try to watch Jason, mesmerized as he watches the man slowly, teasingly jerk off. His hand moves of its own volition it seems, gripping himself, running his palm up and down his shaft at the same rhythm and pace as Jason is touching himself, squirming slightly at the wonderful feeling of it.

“Hmm, cocktease or not, you seem to like it.”

Jason points out with a smirk, his foot slowly sliding off Eric’s chest; his legs open wide to the vampire as he continues to lightly stroke himself. The movement seems to break the ‘spell,’ and Eric pulls his hand off his cock, frowning, shaking his head slightly as he remembers what he was supposed to be doing, what he really wanted to do. He leans down over Jason, smirking slightly as his first two fingers of the other hand lightly run along the curve of Jason’s mouth.

“Sorry, but you’re gonna have to suck after all … I don’t really salivate … so, suck and lick, I need them –really- wet.”

He purrs the word really, and Jason’s entire body jerks in pleasure, the sound of the commanding voice as he’s nudged with the glamour making him shudder for a moment. His mouth opens, the tip of his tongue scraping across the end of Eric’s finger tips, making the vampire curse and moan. The human smirks lightly before his mouth closes around the vampire’s fingers, his tongue bathing the man’s fingers, getting them nice and wet as he asked. When Eric’s fingers pull out of his mouth, Jason licks them one last time, watching, curiously, as Eric kneels between his legs.

“Close your eyes and stay relaxed … if you can.”

Ok, that sounded –ominous-! The human swallows heavily, before his hands clasp behind his head, his eyes fluttering closed. The feels Eric’s dry fingers clasp his cock at the base, and he immediately tenses before trying to make himself calm. A single, wet digit is pressed to the puckered hole of his ass, and he tenses further. In fact, he isn’t able to make himself relax until he hears Eric snickering above him … no way in hell was he about to let Fangs get the better of him here.

“Idle hands, babe … idle hands.”

Jason snickers softly as he says that, Eric rolling his eyes before his hand begins to once more gently stroke up and down the shaft of Jason’s cock, knowing that the pleasure would help centre the kid and keep him from tensing up too bad. And it works, for now, Jason moaning and relaxing his ass muscles enough that the first finger can penetrate his tight hole, slowly working itself deeper and deeper, crooking to snake across that sensitive area. Jason actually screams out in surprise, Eric smirking when he sees precum dribbling across the human’s swollen head.

“Felt good, did it, Jason?”

“Fuck yeah ... come on … do it again … please … Eric …”

Ok, now –that- is begging!! The vampire shudders at the pleading tone to Jason’s voice, rolling his eyes at his own sentiment. He crooks his finger again, dragging it across the spot, and at the same time, his palm slides firmly up Jason’s shaft, causing the man to cry out again, his own hips apparently joining the action as they try to pump upward.

“Oh, I think you’re going to enjoy being ridden, Stud.”

Eric sneers softly, carefully working his second finger up, into the man’s tight channel. Jason takes a deep, shuddering breath, wincing in pain as the second finger is added and they begin a slow, careful scissoring motion to force him open further. Oh god, it burned a little, but the pleasure of the two combined attentions seemed worth it … so far.

“Now, you are going to want to breathe slowly … deeply, keep yourself as relaxed as possible … or this will hurt. And I was only half teasing about the frenzy.”

Jason’s heart lurches, then nearly stops when he hears that the frenzy might be real! Oh god, if the vampire snapped, he would never be able to stop him, and why the hell did that have his cock pumping out more precum? Eric smirks wickedly above him, knowing damn well that the thought of danger often heightened sexual experience. He reaches out to run his hand all the way up to the tip of Jason’s shaft, wetting his finger-tips in the fluid. He then reaches down to stroke himself, making sure he was nice and slick before he pulls his other fingers free of Jason’s hole. He uses the last remnants of the precum to wet the circle before he presses against the opening.

“Deep breath, Stud.”

He growls the words as a command, and Jason finds himself instinctively replying, breathing deep and slow as Eric begins to lean forward, pushing himself deep into the other man. Jason cries out when he fully buries himself in the human, and Eric can’t help but smirk. God, he was so –hot-, a blanket of heat surrounding his cock in velvet smoothness, he whimpers almost desperately, pulling back slowly. He’s a little surprised when Jason reaches up, his fingers gripping the vampire’s biceps so hard that he would probably leave marks behind for a little while.

“Oh god … that feels … wow …”

Eric actually laughs at the human’s response, smirking as he drives his hips forward, forcing himself deep into him once more.

“Don’t worry, Stud … it’s going to be a long, slow, pleasant time.”


Eric hadn’t expected the ‘festivities’ of the night before to, well, last all day! Two hard fucks, and he had been forced to stop long enough for Jason to get something to eat and block up the windows so that the sun couldn’t get in and, well, fry Eric! Once Jason ate, they climbed into the shower, washed up … had to wash up a second time … and then ended up –back- in bed! He had lost count of the amount of orgasms between them, and had managed to fall into a fitful sleep a few hours before sundown … which is why he doesn’t actually walk through the doors of Merlotte’s until almost 1 am.

Stretching his wearied muscles, god had he missed marathon fuckfests, and heads to the same booth he had occupied the night before. He settles himself on the long bench seat, running his fingers through his hair, which was loose for a change, bangs falling across his forehead. He looked … slightly ruffled, still wearing the leather pants, though he had borrowed a Jason’s only dress shirt, a rather mundane, everyday black button up silk shirt, which was opened just enough to reveal his neck, throat, and the first muscles of his chest. He clasps his hands on the booth in front of him, glad that he didn’t have to breathe … it meant he wouldn’t be yawning from a lack of sleep or anything! Now, where was that dishy little spitfire?!