A/N: This is going to be a short little story, probably between two and four chapters. It is somewhat AU and takes place before the beginning of season 1, when Damon is at loose ends waiting to someday free Katherine from the tomb. While partying, feeding, and generally enjoying himself in Santa Cruz, California, Damon runs into werewolf Mason. In this story, Mason triggered the werewolf curse on his own, without ever meeting Katherine, and he and Damon have no idea of the Mystic Falls connection that they share.

Warning: This story contains drug use and rough sexual activity (mostly male/male) with somewhat dubious consent. If that offends you or if you're underage, you should probably stop reading now.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries or any of the characters. This is just for fun.

Chapter 1

Damon palmed the woman's very generously sized breasts under her torn shirt, teasing at hard nipples as he thrust inside her. She moaned his name, and Damon grinned as felt his fangs descend. He sliced into her neck just as she came, and compelled as she was, the only note in her scream was one of pleasure. Damon groaned at the taste of fresh blood and something else. His victim had been high as a kite, and Damon was about to find out what she was on. Nothing like an intravenous dose of some of the best drugs in the city to make even a vampire feel the effects, at least for a little while. He had known that party was going to be a gold mine.

Damon pulled away when he had drunk his fill and licked the blood from the two neat wounds on the woman's neck. What was her name again? Oh well, it hardly mattered. Blue eyes captured the woman's dazed eyes. "We had sex, nothing else," Damon compelled her. "It was awesome, but you know it's not going to happen again. Now go home and keep your neck covered."

The woman nodded. "I have a scarf," she said robotically.

"Good girl." Damon slapped her on the ass as she moved slowly away. He watched her go, enjoying her shapely backside, before zipping his own pants back up. He didn't bother to button his shirt.

Damon staggered a little and caught himself on a wall as he came out of the alley a moment later. Fuck, his victim was on some serious shit. Mix her blood with the substances Damon had consumed earlier at the party, and his world was spinning right now. The street in front of him was a kaleidoscope of colors, and the brick wall under his hand felt amazing. He rubbed at it in wonder as the drugs further enhanced his vampire senses.

Damon heard a man's voice call his name, and he forced his eyes to focus on the figure approaching him. The man had a powerful, muscular body, dark hair, and a handsome, open face. He found the name with difficulty in his addled brain. Mason, one of the locals and supposedly a surfer, which Damon found hilarious. He had met the guy perhaps two or three days ago. "Damon," Mason repeated. "Hey, man. You okay?" He walked right up to Damon and put his hand on Damon's arm. Damon's skin buzzed at the contact.

"I'm awesome," Damon slurred. He was seriously fucked up right now, and it was indeed awesome. You had to love getting high just from a meal.

"I just got some great shit, man. You wanna come have a smoke with me?" Mason gave him a big smile. That smile, like his face, was open and guileless. An easy mark.

"Sure," Damon agreed. His current buzz wouldn't last long – a downside of a vampire's metabolism – and Damon wasn't ready for the day's fun to be over. He followed Mason down the street to a big, run-down house. It was home to a number of the fun-loving locals that Damon had been hanging out with, and he had met Mason at a party there. In fact, he had met his prey from earlier there, too. Prime hunting grounds – lots of hot, young people drinking, doing drugs, and hooking up right and left. It was the kind of place where Damon could hang out for a few weeks until he got bored and moved on. That was his life – an endless party, going from one town and one crowd to another, letting the years roll by without leaving a mark. One lie after another, but who was counting his lies or his victims? He knew for a fact that no one in this world cared.

Inside, Damon flopped down on the couch. He stared at a beam of afternoon sun playing over the leaves of a plant. He reached out his hand into the sunlight, feeling the warmth on his skin and watching the light glint off the silver and lapis lazuli of his ring. He was distracted from the light only when Mason dropped onto the couch beside him and passed him a joint. Damon took a puff and grinned. It was good stuff, and he could feel his body relaxing even further as he breathed in the smoke.

They passed the joint back and forth in companionable silence for a few minutes. Damon noticed the way Mason's eyes were roaming over his bare chest. The other man had gradually scooted closer to him on the couch, and Damon suppressed a grin. Hell, yeah, he thought. If dinner was the soft curves of the girl earlier, then Mason and his strong, muscular body would make the perfect dessert. Damon Salvatore didn't bottom for anyone, but he loved upsetting the expectations of the big powerful guys like Mason. Let them think they had the upper hand, get them riled up and ready, and then show them who was really in control. He moistened his lips and parted them slightly just as Mason's gaze landed on his mouth. One come-hither look and smile and Mason's mouth was on his. The other man kissed aggressively, already the opposite of the girl's tentative explorations, and Damon kissed him hard right back, two mouths battling for supremacy. Big rough hands had taken advantage of Damon's open shirt in no time, and Damon couldn't help but moan at the sensation of Mason's hands on his body. His skin was highly sensitized from the mix of drugs in his system, and every touch left a trail of fire in its wake. Mason smelled good, too, very masculine with a touch of salty ocean smell.

Mason pulled back for a moment, looking at Damon, and Damon could guess what he saw. Blown-out pupils under heavy eyelids, swollen lips, pants tented in readiness – in other words, totally fuckable and irresistible. Sure enough, Mason's mouth was back on his in no time, and Damon felt the man's hand grope down to find his crotch. Fuck, yeah. Anyone, anytime, anywhere. Being a vampire was awesome. "You want to get out of here?" Mason murmured. "My room's in back."

Damon just nodded, and Mason immediately tugged him to his feet. Damon followed him down a narrow hallway past several closed doors before Mason pushed one open. Damon was already missing those hands, and he happily let Mason slam him against the wall as the door shut behind them. Mason paused only long enough to pull his own t-shirt over his head and shove Damon's already half-off shirt the rest of the way off his shoulders. Damon gleefully ran his own hands over Mason's smooth, muscular body. He might have to rethink his opinion of surfing if it led to this kind of body. A few more moments of kissing, and then Mason dropped his hands to Damon's fly. He fumbled briefly, but finally he was shoving Damon's pants down over his hips. Damon wriggled to help him – he liked his jeans tight, after all. If you had it, you might as well flaunt it.

"No underwear?" Mason murmured, voice low and deep.

Damon smirked and shrugged. "Just gets in the way."

"We wouldn't want that," Mason agreed, sounding amused again. His lips reclaimed Damon's again, and he flipped them around, keeping their bodies locked together. Damon stepped out of his pants and let Mason push him backwards toward the bed. His body was still on fire everywhere the other man touched him. This was a very, very good idea, he decided.

Mason shoved Damon down on the bed, and Damon went with it, flopping on his back. Let Mason think he was in control for a few more minutes, he thought, before he showed the other man how this was really going to go. Mason didn't join him immediately, however, and Damon pouted slightly in protest. He didn't understand why Mason was just standing there, eyeing him hungrily. "What are you doing?" Damon whined, his still-drugged mind confused at the pause in their activities.

Mason smiled at him. "Patience," he said teasingly. "I'm just going to put some music on and light some incense."

Damon frowned. "Don't need that," he said, the words slightly slurred. Did Mason think he was a girl or something? The faster they got on with this, the better.

Mason's grin widened. "What can I say? I'm an old-fashioned guy."

Despite his complaints, Damon was feeling too relaxed to move, so he lay there as Mason dimmed the lights and put on a jazz record, then moved around the room apparently lighting several bundles of incense. Finally he was back by the bed, and Damon watched appreciatively as Mason stripped off the last of his clothes. Whatever his flaws, like an obsession with atmosphere, the man was hot. Very nice muscles, and big elsewhere, too. Damon smirked. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

The scent of the incense filling the room tugged briefly at Damon's memory, but he was distracted as Mason dropped down beside him on the bed and immediately moved on top of Damon. Okay, not quite what Damon had in mind, but he went with it as the other man's mouth attacked his and their cocks rubbed against each other. Moments later, Mason's big hand closed around Damon's engorged cock, and Damon bucked up into him with a curse.

Mason began to kiss his way down Damon's body then, his tongue teasing the hard muscle of Damon's pectorals. Damon let out a strangled little cry as the other man bit down on his nipple, and he felt Mason chuckle at that. Damon would have complained, but the hand stroking on the cock and the tongue now teasing his other nipple kept his attention. He gave a low whine of protest as the hand disappeared, but a second later Mason was swiping his warm, wet tongue along Damon's length. "Fuck, Mason," Damon gasped. He was vaguely aware that this still wasn't going according to plan, but the man was good with his mouth. Damon gave himself over to the pleasure of strong hands holding his hips in place and a warm mouth exploring him. With the drugs still making his head spin, Damon was all nerve endings on fire with pleasure, and Mason was taking his time, taking Damon to the brink and then pulling back until Damon was shaking with frustration. He had to bite down on his tongue more than once to keep from begging for release, but Damon Salvatore never begged. He didn't last long when Mason finally took him fully into his mouth, and he came with a loud cry, hips thrusting against big hands that pressed him down on the bed.

Damon relaxed into the bed with a sigh, muscles liquid. He was very glad he was a vampire, and he would be recovered in no time. Mason wouldn't know what hit him, he thought with a smirk. And after that blowjob, the man deserved a good fucking as a reward.

Mason had settled beside Damon, watching him intently, and after a moment, he moved in for another kiss. Damon obliged, enjoying the taste of himself in Mason's mouth. His body still felt languid as Mason moved back on top of him again, his own erection prominent between them. It was definitely time, Damon thought, to rewrite the script here. He started to move to flip their positions, and to his shock, Mason easily held him in place. He dragged Damon's arms up and pinned his hands above his head, straddling the smaller man. Damon struggled, but Mason controlled him with a small grunt. Damon glared at the man, confused. It shouldn't matter how big the other man's muscles were. Damon was a vampire – why the fuck couldn't he overpower Mason? Why did he feel like all the strength had fled from his body? He wriggled, hating the feeling of helplessness and the amused smile on the other man's face.

"You're cute when you're mad," Mason said.