Season 3X01 – Takes place after the episode, sometime after the phone call…I do not own TVD, only the story below which is inspired by him, his anguish, and his struggle. Will he get what he deserves? Will Stelena ever find their way back to each other?
You Can't Go Home Again, Can You?
He was amazed and startled. How could she surprise him like this? How did it seem like he could not move. Her eyes willed it so. There was no movement beyond her sudden appearance and him standing up from the desk in his hotel room. They hadn't been together in months but she had kept searching for him, never giving up. How did she find him? Where did that determination come from he wondered. Was it genetic? It was frustrating, for sure. Did she always have it? Or did it have anything to do with him? No way. Her will to pursue this thing he was becoming, this monster, couldn't possibly be driven by her still loving him. It must be just her sense of doing what's right, her character, and some unrealistic sense of morality she was raised with erroneously applied to a ripper. Ridiculous, he thought baffled as his mind raced in circles.
But there she was, standing at the door. A slight breeze gently rippled the loose strands of her long bangs, grown out now so much that they brushed her cheek, her chin, just barely reaching her neck. He followed the line of silky strands thinking just a bit more and they'd be to her shoulder, her clavicle, and you'd never know she'd ever cut them. His eyes lingered at the hollow of her elegant neck. Her pulse fluttered just beneath, her heart pounding as if she'd run miles to find him.
She was still more than ten feet away across the room, but he could cover that in no time. He felt his body reacting to her before he could consciously consider the consequences. His eyes darkened and a pang of thirst twitched in his mouth. Shaking his head clear of the urge, he snapped at her angrily, "What are you doing here!" She seemed to relax a little as she eased slightly into the room having found him at long last. The light breeze from outside wafting lightly through her gauze-like blouse caused it to alternately ripple lightly then mold to her form. He scoffed inside that she was wearing such a frivolous top, one that he wouldn't have wanted her to wear in public. But it was the height of summer so no doubt her reason was the heat. When the breeze pressed the top up against her breast, the nearly see-through fabric hinted to a red bra beneath. Her scent seemed to wind directly to his nostrils as if someone had drawn it, mocking him in a cartoon. He tried to hide the pleasure each deep inhale gave him.
She hadn't answered his question. Slowly she moved a step into the room. He hadn't moved since standing and gripping the back of the desk chair. He felt stuck, like his feet were glued to the floor, unable to grasp the reality of her presence. "Why…, he started again. Slowly, she raised her right hand pressing her forefinger across slightly open lips indicating he should be quiet. As her finger slid gently across and away from her mouth, it pulled lightly at her lower lip. Her deep brown eyes bore into his, radiating with heat and desire. He knew this side of her well. Clearly she wanted him. It would be difficult to sway her otherwise. She was telling him don't fight this with every fiber of her being.
Panic of a sort whirled in his head. He had to fix this and now. "I shouldn't have called. It was selfish. You can't be here." He paused hoping to find some way to stop this. "Please, if you don't get out of here, we are all dead, please, please…" he pleaded with her. She simply continued moving her right hand from her mouth to the top of her blouse, her left hand slowly coming up to join in the painfully slow unbuttoning of the three little iridescent gems holding the slip of fabric to her body. His grip on the chair threatened to shatter the wooden frame. She let the blouse fall open just enough to see the rounded curves of her young breasts topping a lacey red bra that plunged deeply to a clasp in front.
She trailed fingers along her throat, lightly circling and tickling her skin, working her way down her cleavage, then to her toned and smooth belly pausing to linger at her navel. She trailed her nails gently in a line across the top of her cut-off jeans. His breath hitched as he realized he was desperately waiting to see if her fingers would continue downward. She did. She flicked the top button, then the next button, then the next…
He was lost. He forced himself to swallow, wetting his mouth, dry from nearly panting for her. He could no longer think of trying to get her to leave. It was as if he'd never even thought it. All he wanted was to savor this incredible feeling, this ache for her as his eyes raked over her body, his mouth agape with a different kind of hunger. Briefly, the tips of her fingers dipped into her opened fly.
Her hand lingered a moment inside. Her tanned abdomen was completely exposed but her hand hid the real prize below. His favorite place in the world was just a peek away. He wondered if she would continue downward. She did not. Instead, her hands drew up to her neck again, scooping up her long hair as if she needed a break from the heat she was creating. Slowly, she let it fall down her back as she raised her chin upwards giving him a lovely view of the show she was giving him. Her hands settled back to her shoulders, ever-so gently easing first one, and then the other sleeve, sliding them off their precarious perch and down her slender arms. Almost in slow motion, the feather-like material floated delicately to the floor.
He realized he wasn't breathing, and was nearly drooling. He was hard, harder than he could remember ever being. But he prayed she would not stop. This was the most erotic strip tease he'd ever seen and it was her. Her, his lover, ex-lover, she's here. A nagging thought tried to creep back into the foreground. She should not be here…
Slowly her hands reached to gently cup and push her breasts even higher, her head tilting to the right, her tongue teasing across her lips before she bit down on the plumper lower lip. Oh, he wanted to bite that lip, to suck it teasingly into his mouth. He remembered what her mouth was capable of doing to him. Oh, god, he was so hard.
His spectacular hearing heard a slight pop of the clasp which was keeping her breasts shielded. He took two steps forward but stopped when she stopped and gave a slight eyebrow change and twist of her head. Eyes locked, he took his cue. Uh uh, Don't move, her eyes were saying. Once he was again still, slowly, achingly so, she allowed each cup to gradually reveal their contents. He gasped allowed, mouth wide, unconscious his display was making it obvious they he wanted suck, lap, kiss each breast till she moaned with pleasure. He no longer had the chair to hold. He couldn't go back to it. He didn't know how, but he stayed in place, awaiting her direction.
Releasing her grasp on her beautiful body, she let the bra straps fall behind her to her elbows then completely down to her hands, her left hand catching the no longer obstructing garment. Thumb and fingers holding the nearly weightless fabric for a few seconds only to drop it silently to the floor. All that remained were the cut-offs and... A puzzling thought flickered by as he appreciated her breasts, her tanned legs that would hopefully be wrapped around him soon. Wait, commando? And no shoes? Her toes were painted a ruby color, a small white flower on each of her big toes. He wanted to suck her toes, kiss up her calves, lick behind her knees, and she liked it when he tickled the backs of her thighs. He was pulled back to the present as her hands each slipped into the open and loose waistband of her shorts. Her hands slowly eased down her hips pushing the shorts lower and lower. He thought he'd burst if she didn't let him move soon. She paused ever so subtly at the widest curve of her sexy hips before completely sliding the shorts past the point of no return. He could see the apex of her thighs, the soft curve of her closed legs hiding her secrets for just a while longer.
As the shorts hit the floor, she stepped free of them allowing her arousal to become more evident for just a moment. He purposefully deeply inhaled her scent. She stared longingly into his eyes for a few more moments, seemingly enjoying the spell she cast on him. "I'm yours. Always," she said. He gasped and sped to stand in front of her, not quite knowing what to touch first. He wanted to own her, completely. Fingers gliding over her face softly, he took a couple more seconds taking in her beauty visually. He wanted to devour her, make her his forever. Then, like the predator he was by nature, his arms were around her in a flash, hands running from hair to shoulders to waist to buttocks, around her, tightly, never stopping anyone place too long. All the while, he crushed her with passionate kisses, taking complete control of her mouth with lips and tongue, relishing and ravishing every inch of her.
Her arms were around his waist fingering the rippling muscles of his back through his black tee, one hand moving higher the other lower to feel the curve of his ass through his jeans and to press his body closer. When the strength of his hungry arms would allow her to move, she worked her way under his shirt lightly skimming nails across his tight abs. She was pulling at the hem of tee, tugging at it indicating that it needed to go. Knowing that his nearly overpowering possession of her body wasn't giving her the room to do it herself, using one hand, he reached behind his head and pulled the T-shirt up and off so fast that they were chest to chest, skin to skin, they barely missed a beat and continued their incredible make out. He couldn't believe he was able to taste her again after so long. His tongue took ownership of her mouth like never before. He didn't even really think about whether or not she needed a second to breathe. Air didn't matter. He just needed to consume her very essence.
The clang of a buckle sounded an alarm in his head. Her hands had continued down his abs to his belt. He ground his hips against hers, one hand pressing her ass, kneading it just hard enough that maybe there would be a mark lingering there tomorrow to remind her of tonight. She ground right back, pressing as hard as she could. Before he ended up losing it in his jeans, he started walking her backwards to the bed. She made quick work of his fly and was pressing her hands into his jeans like she had done to herself earlier, forcing his boxer briefs and jeans off by the action of gliding her hands down his hips, her hands never leaving his skin.
He allowed her to fall back on the bed without him in order to step out of the last of his clothes even though he didn't want to let go. She was about to push herself further up the bed while he finished undressing. But he was there and moving her into position in less than a second. He was so fast. She smiled knowingly. He didn't usually use his speed with her in bed, but she had awakened his long restrained desires. With his left arm around her waist, he angled her to his favorite position of her. She was light as a feather to him, so easy to move to his whim. His arm slid higher up her back causing her to arch her breasts forward. Her hands were in his hair as their eyes continued to bore into each other. He knelt between her somewhat bent legs, so sexy as her toes pointed outwards in opposite directions.
Starting at her neck, he began kissing and licking a line down toward the tunnel between her breasts. With his free hand, he first gently then more roughly began to massage her left breast while moving lips to envelop the right. Sucking, teasing, pinching, he toyed with her, making her moan with pleasure. Soon each of his hands took ownership of a breast. Ever so softly, he nipped lightly at each nipple, allowing sharp teeth to send shivers down to her center. She let out a gasp every time a nip was just a little sharper than before. He smirked to himself at this and hummed along with her moans as if we were dining on the finest meal he'd ever had. She was his.
He wanted to continue his feast downward but was torn wanting to be inside her. She started to move her legs higher and wider as if inviting him to finally take her, but her hands were still in his hair saying otherwise. She too seemed torn, simultaneously directing his head lower then reaching for his chin to come back up to her lips. Decision made. He would continue her slow torture to build her pleasure, and his. Keeping hands on her breasts, he kissed his way down to her navel, pausing to swirl his tongue in circles, before moving his mouth lower still. He kept his hands in place so that his upper arms were in effect holding her hips and thighs against the bed, no longer allowing knees to bend upwards to entice him into the vice-like grip she could make with her long slender legs. This position allowed his tongue to probe and dip inside her, but not quite possess her deeply like he knew she wanted. It would tease her for a while before she'd probably whine or buck to tell him to get serious.
Slowly he released his hold on her breasts and slid his hands down her sides. One at a time, he moved his arms around her hips using his elbows for balances and allowing her to bring up her knees and open wider for his touch. She was glistening, wet with desire. He teased her with his tongue just a bit more then dove in to fully taste her. Her cries of pleasure inspired him further. Adding a few fingers and a driving yet persistently delicate rhythm, he drove her higher and higher, until, just as she came, he nipped her thigh just enough to allow the smallest drops of her blood to bead. He lapped it up quickly, wondering if she had noticed, but her climax seemed to have overcome her, making her world one big ecstatic buzzing hum.
Quickly, he crawled up to keep her focused elsewhere. Taking her mouth once again, he kissed her deeply and she moaned oh so sweetly. He slowly entered her. "Oh, so tight after so long," he thought. Her eyes fluttered open at the feel of him and she gave a hushed giggled at his words. "Did I say that out loud?" He asked, smiling. She just smiled at him knowingly. To enhance the sensation, her inner muscles clenched around his throbbing hardness and he let out a cry of pleasure squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "Don't", he said. "I won't be able to hold back." She did it again saying, "Don't".
He gasped at her instruction and starting thrusting slowly but deeply into her. She hissed and mewled and oo'ed indicating how deep and tight this was for her too. Her eyes said, "Keep going. It's good". He continued to build momentum with every thrust, not relenting on completely filling her each time. The pace grew to the point where she was nearly exploding again. He could feel her clenching with multiple orgasms as he continued to pound away. She began to cry out with each thrust, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Or was that his voice crying out? He didn't know anymore. The pace was mind-blowing for them both. He didn't know how she had the strength to hold on but she reached up to pull him to her lips, fingers pulling hair as she pulled him down to her. Sloppy kisses lead to her accidentally biting a little too hard on his lip. She had drawn blood. Without hesitation, she licked the blood away. In awe he kissed her harder than ever before. Gasping for breath, she pulled on his hair bringing his lips to her neck. He was close. "Do it", she screamed, "now, Stefan!" He let out a ferocious growl, eyes were red, veins springing forth, fangs bared and crushing into her carotid artery. He came violently in spasms of ecstasy. His hips were still rocking forward while her sweet blood sprang forth, gliding hotly down his throat. He held her in a crushing grip, savoring the incredible afterglow of mind-blowing sex with his love, along with the taste of her life's essence satisfying the bloodlust…The bloodlust…which he had under control, not that he no longer had under control, remember? She tasted beyond belief, orgasmic, young, fresh, hot, savory, sweet…
Gradually, all too real fear began invading his throes of ecstasy. Wait, I don't hear her heart anymore. Why isn't she trailing her fingers across my back like she does after...It began to push further into the forefront, his head clearing from the haze. His sweat now seemed cloying and so unwanted, not part of the afterglow of something wonderful. "What…what…what did I do?" he barely whispered, suddenly frozen still, afraid to pick up his head, knowing if he did, he'd see lifeless eyes staring back at him. He closed his eyes, willing it to not be true. "No, no, no, no, no, no…no, no, no…." He was sobbing, he was screaming, he was suffocating, he couldn't breathe, he wanted to die…"Elena!" he wailed into the pillows underneath them.
Suddenly, Stefan was aware that his face was mashed into the pillows and sheets, nearly strangling him. So maybe that's why she wasn't breathing, she was the one suffocating. He struggled to break free, push himself up off the bed, and look at his surroundings. He was alone, in a hotel room, panting and panicked. Where is she? He crossed to the bathroom. She's not there. She's not here. He looked back at the bed prepared to see her blood everywhere, but no, nothing. He touched his lip where she'd bit him…Finally, his surroundings began to make sense. He looked in the mirror over the dresser. He was clothed. He was alone. The room had not a single scent belonging to her. It was all a dream, then a nightmare. It had to be.
It was an answer to his question that haunted him every minute of every day for months. He could not go home. He had to keep her safe. With him, she was not safe. He would not go back, ever. Collapsing on the edge of the bed, he sobbed quietly.
