Maybe it's the shirt…

Summary; What is it that makes Damon so irresistible? Elena takes a typical Salvatore evening to try and find out.

Rating; M (sexual content/language)

Genre; Romance/Humour/Smut. Honestly, I just got bored one night after VD withdrawals and posed myself the same question. If you want a serious story, there are some wonderful deep plotlines on here (hats off to these amazing writers!), this… is not one of them ;)

Pairing; Damon and Elena (The way it should be)

Disclaimer; I own nothing, make no profit and play only with borrowed characters. All credit goes to owners/writers/actors.

AN; Damon and Stefan can be arguing over anything you like. Elena is a vampire, Damon is hot. That is all you need to know ;)

Maybe it's the shirt…

Elena sat back in the chair. The brothers would bicker as long as they were allowed, or until one tried to stake the other. But she had no care for their argument of the day, she had her own problems to figure out. Like the current one she was pondering; why was she finding Damon so... delectable?

Maybe it's the shirt.

The dark colours that try to convince her he's a bad boy. The long sleeves teasing her by not even showing his arms… his beautiful muscular arms. So strong. Maybe the fresh smell of his laundry powder clinging to the fabric. Maybe just the fabric; the silky black shirt looked like a shimmering cascade of midnight waters over his body…

…Maybe it was the body.

Not the shirt; it was the body that lied beneath. A body that water had explored in the shower each morning, the body that had given multiple women weak knees, the body that was the envy of romance novel heroes… the body that lay underneath the cursed shirt. And what a tease that shirt was, showing him in all the right ways, hanging from his frame with all the confidence of his posture.

Maybe his posture?

Elena scanned her eyes over the confrontational state between brothers. The way Damon's muscles flexed, the way he looked like he could spring and kill at any given second… the way he looked so deadly… and yet so tame. The way he promised to drive you to the edge of pleasure and back with a simple flick of his finger. Elena bit her lip, stopping the dreamy sigh that threatened to seep through.

"You're an idiot. And god knows how I ended up with you for a brother, but I did. So here's what's going to happen-"

"Damn it Damon, don't you ever think of anyone but yourself?!"
Elena blinked, the dialogue fading to the back of her mind again as Damon laughed his cocky laugh and ran his hand through his hair.

It could be the hair, she mused.

It was always so soft… so enticing to touch… so… tempting. Oh, how at nights she dreamed of having her fingers in his hair, dreamed of his lips pressed to hers, making love like it was the last night of living. His hair was wild and dark; like his preference of all things. But that's only at first glance, if you get closer, you see how soft, how creative and how sexy it can be. Oh god, she just wanted to touch it, to move that strand from his eyes.

Of course; it was his eyes.

The way they lit up when he laughed, the sparkle with his smile… the fire with his hate, the burning embers smouldering with his passion… Elena's lip came back to the bite of her teeth. How could that man have so much emotion in those eyes? Even in those rare sad moments, one look into those vulnerable eyes and you'd be floored, unable to do anything but comply with his every wish. But the passion; the passion for anything and everything flared his eyes the most, they could stare right through her, asking how she even thought it possible to lie to his face, asking if she could even think anything clever to say at all… the answer was always no. His eyes… they pierced every defence she had, they saw straight through to her inner desires and grasped them with two hands. It must be his eyes.

"You really think that's going to work? Seriously brother, were you constantly dropped on your head at birth?!"

Maybe his voice… she pondered.

The sarcastic edge, the hidden agenda, the 'I know best' attitude all words are laced with. The pure cockiness of every vowel… but the seduction of the words, the strings of letters that somehow made her knees weak, the purr in his tongue as it wraps around a name. Her name…
"Elena! You wanna perhaps give some input to this?" The way even telling her off seemed like he was challenging her to resist him. He'd win, he would always win.

"God sake Damon, leave her out of this, she's got enough going on!"
"Oh, because she's a vampire? That's clearly too much for anyone to handle!" Oh sweet sarcasm.

But… maybe it was the confidence.

The confidence he had in his voice, his posture, his very nerve to be right all the time and yet the confidence he had in her as well.

Stefan was always protective…

But Damon… he had faith she could tackle any challenge thrown to her.

…Except this one… just what was it that drew her to him? How was it so hard to figure out?!

"Please, she took vampirism better than you did!" Damon sneered, summoning Elena's blood to pulse in her chest. The very edge of him had no doubt she would succeed in anything she wanted, and boy, it felt good.

But… he had another point.

Maybe it's the vampirism.

She could smell his blood moving in his body, she had the vivid memory of feeding from him pounding inside her head whenever she closed her eyes. But Damon wasn't like every other vampire, he smelled different, so much better than Stefan. Maybe it was the animal/human blood comparison in their bodies, but maybe it was just him. Maybe she liked the dangerous side to him, maybe she liked what he had made her. Maybe in his lessons to perfect her vampire personality they grew closer. But there was the sweet smell again as Damon crossed the room for a stiff drink. Scotch, her nose told her.

But under that, there was Damon again, stirring her hunger. Her tongue subconsciously ran across her lips. Part of her wanted to leap across the distance, sink her teeth into his neck and drink the sweet nectar from the source. The other part; it wanted to wrap her arms around him and breathe him in, kiss him until she was drunk on his lips.

"Count on you?! Count on you?! Are you out of your mind?! The only one I can count on is myself. I don't let me down! I don't mind taking a few lives if it means we win in the end!"

"Sorry if my moral compass still points north, but if there's a way out without bloodshed then we should keep looking for it!"

Elena clicked her head up again, how long had she been out of it? Damon and Stefan still seemed to be going strong… one would end up being staked soon if this continued. Even arguing, something had tipped Damon's humour to the dark side, his smirk was there again, painted on his lips as Stefan gave his viewpoint to deaf ears.

Maybe his lips.

Elena drifted back to her own land. She'd kissed those lips, she knew what skill they held, she knew how loving those lips were, she knew the heat they held that flooded her system with a mere peck.

The addictive taste. The mind-melting talent. The way he'd tilt her head back just the slightest, take dominance over the kiss and take her to places she couldn't find compare.

She caught herself absorbed into the movement of his lips, why were they so hypnotic? When he talked it was like he mesmerized her. Sure, he was a manipulative son of a bitch, and he knew it, but those lips could whisper sweet nothings too, those lips could part by her ear and she knew she'd be getting hot in all the right places very quickly. But his smile too, the cheeky smile, how it was always just a few millimetres higher on his left side, how it made her want to lean in and kiss it. It was… hypnotising almost. Everything in her body pulsed for him, she wanted his lips, his warmth, his strong arms around her… but while all she may have experienced was a kiss or two, she craved much much more.

And maybe it was that craving.

At nights, in the shower, whenever she had moments alone, her thoughts turned against her resolve. They dreamed of stripping him slow, kissing every inch of his body and feeling his love in the most physical of senses. His hard body pressed flush to her soft curves. His hands sliding down her skin at an agonising pace, stoking desire, fuelling lust.

Her body roared with an inner fire and she shook the distracting images away for a safer path. It didn't appear, her thoughts were rooted in dark desire for his body. Naked… writhing against her in sweet unbearable bliss. Joining her in the shower as she stood alone…

It wasn't just when she was alone though… she also dreamed of moments like this, when she'd let go of her control, where she didn't care who would see, she would just throw herself against him, steal his lips and let him have her against the nearest wall with no reservations.

Maybe it was the craving, maybe she couldn't see straight because she wanted him so much. But every touch he gave her, every look, every flash of his smile, every sinful moment of privacy between them. His intentions towards her were clear, dark and incited a powerful lust to rush through her. He wanted her, and try as she might; she wanted him too.

Was it just superficial?

Did she just crave the sex? The lustful promise in his eyes that summoned heat right between her thighs? The hard thickness he'd press against her in the library demonstrating how much he wanted her? Did she just want the ride?

"Fine brother, do it your way." Damon submitted. "But when it doesn't work, don't come crying to me."

Elena lifted her mind from her own pondering and placed it back in the present. Damon was lounged along the couch, feet up; the picture of ease, not a care in the world. His eyes locked on her, his grin stirring her heat all over again. He knew what she was thinking about. Somehow, she could tell he knew.

Stefan's feet stomped on his way out the door like a child that knew he hadn't actually won the argument at all. And… that left them alone.

Elena swallowed the ball of nerves slamming into her throat. The car engine revved up outside and then travelled further and further away. They were truly alone. And from Damon's piercing stare, he aimed to take full advantage of that.

"Well, well, well. What have you been thinking about?" His cheeky tone reiterated that he knew, but, how could he? Her eyes snapped up to his in alarm, she wasn't thinking aloud was she?

But he chuckled and threw her his signature smirk before tossing back what was left of his drink and crossing the room to her.

Leave a review/smile/frown if you'd like to. I'd really appreciate it.

It will only be two chapters long and I'll post the second sometime next week. I'm pretty sure you have a good idea of what happens next chapter though ;)
Xx