This is basically a lot of smut and a bit of cheese. Reviews/ideas are welcome.
"That's not heroic. That's tragic."
Stefan rushes by her and darts up the stairs, his boots making heavy thudding noises. Elena allows him to go; she needs to collect herself before she tries to tries to talk to him. It should be so much easier to explain her reasons to him, to explain the deal, but she has to find the right words, go about this the right way.
Then again, maybe there is no right way to navigate this truly fucked-up situation.
She finds that he's retreated to the shower, and she silently steps over the pile of clothing and pulls the curtain aside. His back is to her, his shoulders hunched as he stands under the water spray. Briefly she considers waiting for him, giving him a little more time to calm down, but screw consideration, screw planning. She needs to do something now. Slipping out of her clothes, she steps behind him, wraps her arms around his chest. "Stefan," she whispers, pressing her face against his back.
His hands reach for hers, and he slowly turns around to face her. The water spray almost covers the fact that he's been crying; almost, but not quite. Wordlessly Elena reaches up to caress his face, bites her lip when she sees his eyes filled with sorrow and pain and more than a hint of anger.
She glances down at his chest, relieved that any trace of the earlier attack is gone. Pressing her body against his, she doesn't look at him as she begins to kiss his chest, slowly working her way downwards. He makes a strange growling noise and she smiles slightly as she pushes him against the wall, moves to kiss his face while sliding a hand between his legs.
Suddenly Stefan turns them so it's her back against the wall as he aggressively kisses her and tangles his fingers in her hair. The sound of the water is soon accompanied by their moans as they attempt to outdo the other, their tongues and hands in a kind of battle. Picking her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, Stefan continued to assault her throat with kisses as, with a guttural groan, he entered her. This isn't gentle or slow, they're not taking time to pleasure or tease, this is rough and fast and dirty and angry. Even so, Stefan slips a hand behind Elena's head to protect it from hitting the wall from the force of their thrusts, his face buried in her neck as she yells.
Eventually Elena reaches to turn off the water, signaling to Stefan she's ready for a new location. Legs still encircling his waist, Stefan stumbles out of the shower and she instantly slams him against the door, laughing as the door gives way and they collapse on the floor. From there on it's all skin on skin, tongues fighting, feeling and not feeling- anger and passion becomes entwined together as they push against each other, moving from floor to wall to dresser. Eventually they land on the bed, where they continue, hot and raw and angry. Stefan pins her arms above her, but she still manages to taunt him with her legs, impressing them both with her contortionist positions. When he roughly slides a finger inside of her, her legs seem to lose all sense of control and fall apart, granting him more access. Smiling, he moves his hand quickly, making her cry out harder, faster, louder than before. Eventually he releases her wrists and scoots down to use his tongue on her while she grips his hair, directing him, guiding him.
Even as she screams he shifts again, pushing himself inside of her, rising to meet her lips and firmly kiss her. Her hands are once more pinned by his, her body free to press against his as they grind against each other, filling the house with their animalistic sounds.
"Are you still mad?" she whispers when it's over, when he's collapses besides her and she's still trying to catch her breath.
A light chuckle escapes from his throat. "I'm not that easy, Elena."
She shifted so her body curled into Stefan, her head resting on his shoulder, one of her fingers tracing slow patters on his chest. "I don't want to go to any more funerals," she says softly.
He wraps both arms around her but makes no other move to speak. He's not prepared for this, this conversation, not now. He's not sure he'll ever be ready for this, Elena explaining why she's so willing to die.
"At my parents' funeral... it was torture. Standing there with Jeremy and Jenna, knowing I was the reason Mom and Dad were...are dead. I can't do that again, I can't be the reason that people die again."
She looks up at him, her tears falling onto his chest. "Don't you see? I have another chance, I can fix things, I can save the people I love this time. Because going to your funeral? That would kill me. I can't go to your funeral Stefan, I can't. And this way at least everyone I love will be safe-" she breaks off into sobs, buries her face completely into Stefan's chest. He gently rocks her back and forth, kisses the top of her head.
"Elena, Elena, look at me. Baby, look at me," he eventually coaxes her into raising her face, the tears continuing to stream messily.
He stares at her for a moment before softly saying, "I can't go to your funeral either, Elena. Neither can Jeremy or Damon or Caroline. And I can guarantee you that we won't be safe if you just hand yourself over to Klaus, because we won't just sit around drinking tea and moping and talking about our best memories of you. We would, I don't know, we would come up with some sort of revenge scheme or something to avenge you. Look, we're going to fight, no matter what. And yes, it's dangerous, but we're fighting for you, to save you. We'll still fight for you, but it would be so much easier if you were helping us.
"The first time I saw you," he continued after a moment, his tone softening a tad, "I went to help your father first. And he told me to save you. He wanted you to live, your parents wanted you to live, to have a life. What would they want you to do right now- just accept death or fight to live?"
Her breathing is as unsteady as her voice when she whispers, "They would want me to fight."
"Then will you?"
Elena looks up at him, searching his eyes. Slowly, she leans up and kisses his jaw, moves to his lips. The kisses are gentle and slow at first, at least until Elena pushes Stefan down on the bed and climbs on top of him, causing the kisses to turn passionate and searing. Her hair falls around their faces, protecting them from the outside world, and he wishes it could be as simple as that all of the time.
Sunlight's filtering in through the windows when Stefan opens his eyes. Elena's besides him in the bed, sitting up slightly as she writes quickly in her diary, her pen flying across the page. For the moment, Stefan is content to remain still, gazing up at her through slitted eyes. Her body seems more relaxed, less tense- her shoulders aren't so tight or stiff. She's calmer. Absently, it seems, she stops writing and her hand gently runs through his hair while she stares blankly at her diary. Stefan smiles at the touch, feeling vaguely cat-like as she moved to caress his face.
After a moment Elena leans away to throw her diary and pen on the floor before sliding low under the covers again. She turns restlessly before wriggling underneath one of Stefan's arms, pressing her face against his shoulder. Instinctively, he tightens his arm around her body, bringing her closer against him.
In the warm bed it's easy to forget about everything, their lives beyond this moment. Easy to think that all the danger has been exaggerated, that it's all just a bunch of lies Katherine made up for fun, that she and Elijah just decided to team up to freak everyone out just for kicks. Hell, maybe John Gilbert's in on it- he definitely seems the type to enjoy messing with people's minds for no good reason.
His phone vibrates from his discarded jeans and he knows it's probably something terribly important, but he just can't be bothered right now. Elena has fallen into a light sleep and he doesn't want to move, to disturb her. Maybe if they stay here long enough all of the problems will just go away.
The phone keeps ringing, though. Elena's body tenses, her face twitching against his skin. She raises her head and looks at him sleepily.
"Are you going to answer that?" she asks.
Stefan shrugs, brushes some of her hair away from her face. "Eventually."
"It could be important..." Elena trailed off as Stefan began to kiss her neck and arched her back to give him better access.
"You're more important," he says as he shifts them so she's on her back and he's looking down at her. They lock eyes and Elena blushes under his gaze. It's the intensity, the focus, the way he looks at her as if she's the only person he's ever looked at or ever wants to look at.
"What?" she asks softly. "Stefan?"
"You're beautiful," he said, touching her face gently. "I love you so much."
Her face reddens as she reaches to grab his hand tightly. "I love you."
It's the opposite from last night, when their love-making had been rough, a form of attack. Now, though, they're slow, agonizingly so at times. Stefan slowly kisses his way down Elena's body, his hands sliding between her legs, making her writhe gently and not bother to control her body's responses. She wishes it could be like this forever.
When it's over Stefan lazily strokes Elena's stomach, planting kisses on her face, neither one ready to face the day.
"I wish it could always be like this," Elena suddenly said. "That we didn't have to think about moonstones or dopplegangers."
"What would we do with our lives then?" Stefan half-jokes.
"Normal stuff," she glances at him, smiles a little. "I want to do normal stuff with my vampire boyfriend. That's what this weekend was supposed to be- all romance and fun, not... werewolves."
And suicide plots, Stefan thought, but didn't say it out loud. "You mean this weekend was supposed to be about us, not about avoiding certain people?"
Elena rolled her eyes as she said, "I do tend to think about you more than I think of John."
"You better," Stefan murmured as he began to kiss her again, long, slow kisses.
Stefan's still collapsed on the bed, apparently out for a good long while when Elena slowly makes her way to the shower, pausing before closing the door to stare at Stefan, muffling her laughter.
She's enjoying the spray of warm water when she feels him staring at her.
"And you call me creepy," she smiles as she looks at him over the shoulder.
He's standing just inside the bathroom, gazing at her in that way that makes her shiver.
"Enjoying the show?" she says, turning around. "You're welcome to join in."
Slowly, he steps into the bathtub, still looking at her in that way that seems to see her entire soul. A blush spreads across her face again and she ducks her head and busies herself by grabbing the bottle of shampoo. Glancing back up at him, she offers him the bottle and turns around so he can massage the hair. This is definitely something we should do more often, she thinks as she leans back against him, enjoying the way his fingers work against her scalp. His hands, along with the warm water, have a way of relaxing her.
"I love you," she whispers.
In response, Stefan slides one hand down her back, rests his chin on her shoulder, similar to how things started last night. Despite his roaming hands, she doesn't think he has the same thing in mind.
"What's wrong?" she asks and turns to look at him. The water spray hits his face, but doesn't hide the fact he's crying. Frowning, she touches his face and asks, "Stefan, what's wrong?"
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me- or anyone- about what you thought about Elijah's deal?"
It feels like a step back from last night. "Why do you ask?"
"Elena."
"Because I knew it would upset everyone," she admits. "Can we just not talk about this right now?"
"You didn't answer me from last night," he persists. "About deciding to fight or not."
"Stefan-"
"Elena, please."
She bites her lip, turns her face up to the water to hide the tears that she knows are just ready to spill. "I... I'm not sure, Stefan."
"How can you not be sure about something like this?" he explodes but instantly tries to calm himself, running a hand over his face and trying to think of the right thing to say. "Elena, baby, I'm sorry-"
"Stefan, if I go back on the deal, I'm afraid of what Elijah will do to everyone," she says softly, so that she can't hear herself over the water.
"How is helping us help you backing out of the deal?" Stefan tries to control the tone of his voice, but control isn't really an option right now.
"I'm not sure I want to," she says, unable to look at him in the eye, unsure why she says the words. Does she mean them? Frankly, she's not even sure of that herself.
Unable to answer her, to think of a response that won't hurt either of them, Stefan gets out of the tub and wraps a towel around himself, leaving Elena alone in the shower. He quickly dresses, not even done with putting his shirt on as he half runs, half trips down the stairs, needing air and space and time to think. The phone's ringing yet again, has been non-stop all morning, but talking to Damon right now is so not an option.
Elena watches him through the window, watches as he throws stones at the lake, as he paces and kicks the air. She wants to go out there and talk to him, finally sort this out, but she's not really sure what to say, what to do.
She's not sure of anything right now.