Well, that had been a mistake. A colossal error in judgment. A faux pas of epic proportions. A perhaps insurmountable blunder. But, to be fair, it wasn't like he'd planned it. There was no preconceived scheming on his part. No real conniving or forethought. It had kind of just happened. Innocently enough.
He had been lying in the dark. On Jeremy's unmade bed. Listening to Stefan and Elena having sex. In the next bedroom. OK. So that didn't sound so innocent. But it really had been.
He had needed to get out of the boarding house. Away from the staked 'original' in the cellar. Away from Katherine and her constant games. Her blatantly annoying, distracting efforts at seduction. Her pretense at wanting to 'help'. He had felt the need for peace and quiet. Rare for him. But necessary. So he had sought his brother. Tracked him to the Gilbert homestead. Only to find him engaged in doing the nasty with Elena.
Just what he needed. A further reminder of how his life sucked. How Stefan had, once again, managed to get a woman to fall in love with him. A woman that should have been his, not his lame ass, do-gooder brother's. Annoying was what it was. Downright irritating in fact.
Through the wall, he could hear Elena's blood surging, her soft cries. Listened to Stefan's random murmurs. His younger brother clearly didn't know what the hell he was doing. Apparently, despite all the years of practice, Stefan hadn't mastered the art of how to get a woman off properly. Not that Elena was complaining. But she damn well should be.
Their lovemaking seemed to go on and on. No climax in sight. Sighed. Realized he was bored. His life not only sucked, it was boring. Which was rather ironic. Considering everything that was happening at the moment. Werewolves. Isobel. John. Elijah. Katherine. The list of annoyances also went on and on, just like the sex taking place close by.
And what was he doing for entertainment? Trying to find clues to their predicament in moldy, poorly written, hard to decipher journals. Oh yeah. And slurping on and having sex with a ninny. A beautiful reporter ninny, but a ninny nonetheless. Christ. He was pathetic. A mere shadow of his former glorious self.
Things had been much more exciting when he was roaming the world, picking up strangers, feeding, killing, causing shit. How had he come to be living this pedestrian existence? Shacked up with his holier than thou brother and that she-devil vampire who had spurned him for said brother? Forced to protect the doppelganger (who, BTW, also professed undying devotion for Saint Stefan). He sighed again. Even the potential of full out vamp-werewolf-original warfare wasn't doing it for him. Sighing yet again, he returned to his silent critique of Stefan's sadly lacking sexual technique.
The bedroom door was flung open, the hallway light momentarily blinding him. Quickly sitting up he saw the younger Gilbert start to enter the darkened room. Shit. This would be hard to explain. Looked around. And before the teen had even tossed his book bag onto the bed, he had ducked into the on suite washroom, praying that the door to the adjoining bedroom was closed. Which it was. Whew. Close call.
Peeking out, he observed the boy flicking on his computer. Bonnie's smiling, judgy face appeared. Jeremy's screensaver. Gag. Young Gilbert pulled his rather grungy looking T-shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner. Sat with his back to the washroom door. Over Jeremy's shoulder, he could see pictures. Naked pictures. Well. This was more like it. Little Jeremy Gilbert, surfing porn. Nice. The night had just become a little more interesting.
His eyes narrowed. Wait a minute. He had thought he was about to be subjected to Wacky Witches Wank Wankers. org or something along that line. But this. This was unexpected. Naked men. With other naked men. Hmmm. Nice one. Elena's precious baby brother. Clearly into boy-on-boy action. Judging by the hand down the pants. The rocking hand motion. Fantastic! He would have rubbed his hands together with glee. If he was the hand-rubbing type.
And then. Not sure exactly how he did it. He must have moved slightly, unconsciously. And toppled the ridiculous metal drying frame. Which had been precariously placed in the narrow room. Right behind the door he had swung half shut. Shit. Well. That racket would wake the dead. Or at least rouse the rabble. Caught his breath and held it. Glanced back and forth. Rapidly debated his next move. Elena's room. Jeremy's room. Made a snap decision. Stepped out of his hiding place into Jeremy's room.
And that started it. The beginning of his demise. The chain of events leading to the mistake that would change things forever. Crap. Because the worst thing about living with the consequences of your actions? For a vampire, that meant forever.