Pick Your Poison
A/N: Tension, choices and a kiss that stung like hard liquor. [set after 5x10 Delena break up]
She never thought that mouth of his could cause anyone anything other than pain. His wicked tongue hurt her plenty of times, dismissing her as nothing. Someone to tolerate, someone to make use of, and someone who hardly mattered to the someone he truly cared about. She trusted not one thing about that pale mouth of his. His wit, razor sharp and dangerous, but came second to those terrible teeth. Teeth that on more than one occasion tore into the vulnerable flesh of her neck savagely and without mercy.
Those unnatural tools of murder and mayhem now gently nibbled at her bottom lip and she trembled in his arms with a different kind of anxiety when he finally withdrew his hot mouth from hers. Kissing Damon Salvatore drained the life out of Bonnie Bennett - which is exactly why she promised herself not to make a habit out of it.
This is the first and only time Bonnie, there is no sense in wondering how that mouth would feel on other parts of her body.
Stuck in a world of pleasure and possibilities, Bonnie almost failed to hear Damon speak.
"You taste nothing like Samantha Stephens." Almost breathless, Damon's voice was uncharacteristically soft.
Bonnie frowned slightly.
"Nothing Bonnie!" He was clearly distressed by this fact that suddenly occurred to him but made no earthly sense to her. "You taste nothing like syndicated television, baked goodies and a home in the burbs." Damon continued in a low but sorrowful tone only to confuse her further.
Arms in the air, exaggerated pointing motions whilst he marched across the room and then back in a flash, Bonnie was surprised to see how he exacerbated he looked by 'an ordeal' she thought of as the opposite. "Look, I just figured you and all you, witchy goodness would have tasted like- "
"Like what?"
There was a tense moment and Damon's eyes appeared watery as the words fell out of his mouth.
"A happy ending." He admitted, and Bonnie felt her stomach sink like she had just consumed a ton of bricks. Her heart was being crushed under the weight of a cruel comment. Worst of all, it fell on ears still tinged rosy red from the memory of that terrible tongue inside of her mouth, tasting so exquisite only a minute ago.
She was right, his mouth had only ever been capable of inflicted hurt. This was a twisted game to the vampire. It became clear to Bonnie all of a sudden; this was her punishment. For comforting the coldest of God's creatures whilst betraying the love of a kind and loving boy. A who waited for her at home with a DVD, waiting for her to bring 'borrowed' alcohol and snacks from the bar he worked at.
Jeremy doesn't love you Bonnie, her gut reminded her – at the very least it is you who doesn't love him, every inch of her skin that Damon Salvatore had touched whispered.
She was a pit stop in the life of the younger Gilbert. As Damon was to the elder, she thought cruelly. Bonnie had unintentionally crashed his pity party at the post opening hours Grill and somehow distracted him from mourning yet again the loss of Elena. When would he realise she was never his to begin with? Bonnie wondered this as she without a fight let the drunken, forlorn Salvatore furiously mark her with deep kisses.
"Make me feel better Bonnie. Cast your witch saviour magic on me and make this constant humming in my mind stop." He was sarcastic even in his pleas, and before she could respond his hard body was already pressing against hers. She had no magic, they both knew that but, in that moment, she felt the same control she exerted over him every time she gave him a magical aneurysm in the past. Bonnie's hand tugged at the short dark hair matching the black of her shirt without mercy. Like she was holding onto dear life itself.
The mere thought of what transpired between them triggered further despair at what followed that sexually intense moment; Red cheeks and real awkwardness.
"It was a mistake, no big deal! And bye." Bonnie quickly muttered turning to escape the gaze of ocean blue, clear eyes that would eventually lead her to drown herself in her salty tears.
"Wait!" Damon called out. He appeared suddenly terrified at the prospect of her leave.
"What?" She snapped angrily, she had no patience or strength to be toyed with like this.
"I propose a do over. For scientific purposes."
And with that sudden declaration of his intention out of the way, Damon Salvatore kissed her once more. His tone was equal parts playful and curious, but the kiss was something else. It was a sober kiss. The sincerity it held sent delicious shivers from her lips down to the rest of her body. As before Bonnie, she pulled him closer trying to slowly create a new kind of friction between them that didn't involve biting remarks and intense dislike. Damon returned the gesture of 'peace and cooperation'. She felt his strong arms lift her ever so slightly off of the ground, bringing her closer to him, as his hands moved from caressing her lower back to firmly grasping her ass.
She didn't care what Damon said she did or did not taste like. He tasted of scotch and stupidity.
Bonnie in all honesty thought it would be the metallic taste of death, staining her lips permanently. But the closest thing to red on him was the pink of her lipstick which Damon Salvatore took great joy in ruining.
When he finally pulled away Bonnie felt her feet no longer struggling an inch from the floor but instantly drop back down to earth. They didn't look away from each other in hurried embarrassment, instead she felt Damon take in every part of her face with his eyes. Studying it like she was an exam he needed to pass, frowning at prospect of failure but also struggling to work out a single question.
Bonnie smiled and wriggled her nose as Elizabeth Montgomery once did on Bewitched.
The seriousness passed, and Damon chuckled at the good-humoured gesture made by the petite girl in front of him. Still, she needed to know what was in the vampire's mind those seconds he gazed onto her face so intimately.
"What did I taste like?" She asked the question she proclaimed she did not care about without hesitation.
"Like Bourbon," He answered. "The best kind Bonnie. Warm comfort followed by confusion and crazy headaches."
Bonnie swallowed hard and nodded. She didn't need to tell him about what he tasted like to her. He knew.
They both did.
What did she expect?
There was a growing chasm slowly forming where their bodies had so eagerly tried to fill with closeness only moments ago. Bonnie couldn't tell who initiated the mutual drift away from each other but for the sake of her pride, she honestly hoped it was her.
"I have to go. Jer - He is waiting for me." She felt ashamed of not being able to say his name and instead settled on redirecting her eyes elsewhere. Damon simply swallowed hard and nodded then looked away too.
Bonnie glanced around the darkened empty bar looking for something to grab and leave with. Her eyes landed on the bottle behind the counter, nearing the till, and so she attempted to reach for it. Despite her jump, her height worked against her. Cursing quietly, Bonnie was about to attempt the Jump-and-Reach combo once more when she felt something behind her.
It was Damon. His lean body pressing tightly and hotly against hers, trapping her with her stomach against the counter and her back against his front.
"Let me." He breathed into her neck, speaking in a tone far more casual than the situation called for. Bonnie closed her eyes. She took in the feel of his arm as it wrapped around her body, his hand firmly under her breasts steadying her as Damon bend her slowly over the counter; manoeuvring them both in a way that made room for him to do what he came to do.
And what exactly did he come to do? Drive them both insane?
God, Bonnie thought. This was getting too much for her.
It was hard to breathe and not just because she felt the air in her lungs being squeezed out by the pressure of the counter on her chest as she was bend over it, but because of the way Damon pressed against curves of her ass. A low grunt came from behind her and Bonnie matched it with a soft one of her own.
After his reaction, Damon hurried to end the show.
"Got it." Damon said, his lips brushing her neck ever so slightly before his arm emerged victorious from behind the counter, waving around a bottle. He detached himself from her instantly, letting the heat between them from seconds ago dissipate.
This was all so unnecessary.
Bonnie blinked curiously at the label of the bottle shoved into her hand. In the low light of the streetlamps outside she could make out the words Buffalo Trace, Kentucky Bourbon. She wanted to laugh maniacally at Damon's orchestrated move but instead shook her head angrily.
Damon's face showed that artificial indifference it wore so often.
Do not react, Bonnie's heart pleaded with the rest of her.
But it was too late.
"Just so you know, I'm not the one that's bad for you Damon." It came out more spiteful than she intended, loud and upset. Damon however had already returned to his bar stool, his soft lips once more on the cool glass she found them on before things took a surprising turn.
Bonnie turned around and began heading out when she heard Damon responded in a low matter of fact voice.
"I never said it was you."
She slammed the door shut behind her without any regret. She would get her second sip, of that Bonnie was sure. Until then she would just hold onto the bottle in her hand like it were rosary beads and simply pray her hands stopped trembling before she returned to Jeremy.