So I'm trying my hand at something new. Despite the fact I'm getting hitched in less than 2 weeks, I have spent the last month or so over-indulging in The Vampire Diaries. Unfortunately, a certain online streaming site only had up to the end of the season 3 and even though I watched the s3 finale yesterday I'm already having withdrawal symptoms.

Anyway, this idea has been buzzing around my mind for a while so I thought I'd see where it goes. If you haven't read any of my stories before, I love first person and complete character anonymity (for a while anyway). Having read a fair bit of TVD fanfiction recently, I am slightly daunted by the prospect of delving into another fandom, but I hope you like what I've done and what I have planned.

WARNINGS: Smut (het & slash), Implied incest

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone from The Vampire Diaries.

Stick with me. It might be fun.

Chapter 1

Bourbon sloshes against the side of the bottle as I throw it from one hand to the other, showing off to no-one other than myself. Unscrewing the cap with my thumb, I select a glass and pour. I'm not sure why I'm bothering – it's not like there is anyone here to raise their eyebrows or offer scolding remarks. But I do it anyway.

I fall back against the sofa cushions, twisting so I lay across its entire expanse. I take a swig from the glass and then rest it on my stomach, idly tapping my fingers against the rim.

I contemplate bed.

I contemplate another drink.

I contemplate making a phone call I might regret.

I contemplate leaving town.

All of them perfectly sound ideas after one too many. Only one doesn't lead to conflict later. A deep seated feeling of regret, guilt, anguish, whatever you want to call it, that I won't feel until a moment of quiet amongst the madness when it'll choose to rear it's ugly head and make me wish that I never did whatever I did.

I take another swig and close my eyes.

There's a murmur. A low chuckle. My stomach flips, a smile crossing my lips. I can see a shadow in my mind, that look, the roll of eyes, the lip between the teeth.

A door slams.

My eyes flick open. Another throaty laugh. A sigh. A giggle. I struggle to sit upright, my eyes searching the gloom behind me. Floorboards creak and I cast my gaze upwards, feeling my mouth curl into an unforgiving scowl.

How quickly can a pleasant dream spiral into a nightmare?

Words drift across three floors, as I try and fail to blot out any sound other than the crackling embers in the fire place. Whatever it is, I don't want any part of it. My mind is twisted and rotten enough without eavesdropping. But it's hard to resist.

"Mmm... Fuck..."

"Yes... There..."

I can almost picture it. What am I saying, I can picture it. Quite easily in fact. I can see her lying on her back, hair fanned out on the sheets, legs draped over the edge of the bed, her toes curling as he works his way down her body. I can see her fingers entangled in his hair, her back arching as he tugs down the straps of her bra, his mouth sucking at exposed flesh, tugging expletives from the back of her throat.

Whimpers float across the air. Snippets of begging. His hands will be on her thighs, pushing her legs apart as he slides to the floor, pressing open mouthed kisses to her pelvic bone before he breathes in her scent.

A scent that I can smell, even taste, from here. I try to shake the image of him drinking from her from my mind, but it digs in deep, as her breathless words continue.

"Shiit... No... Don't... Stop..."

Bed springs creak. He's crawling back up over her, moving hair from her face, kissing her, his tongue pushing past her lips, making her taste herself. His hiss echoes around my mind, as she sucks on his bottom lip. I can see them rolling over at speed and it only slows when she lowers her mouth to his chest.

I remember that mouth, the way her lips felt on my chest, how her hand would slide up to cup my face, her fingers grazing my lips, giggling and then whimpering as I captured one between my teeth and teased the tip with my tongue. I remember how her hair felt on my skin as she sunk lower, her hands slowly un-doing my pants, pushing them down until they could easily grasp my length and start to pump at a painfully slow speed. Her mouth would be at my stomach, her tongue etching intricate patterns across my skin, as with one hand I would frantically push her hair out of her face so I could see her face, her mouth, her eyes as she reached her goal.

His groan brings me back from the past with a jolt. Suddenly all I can see is her mouth wrapped around his dick as his hands grasp her hair, pushing her head back and forth as her cheeks hollow.

Not that I blame him. Or her for that matter.

I just wish...

I drain my glass.

Actions speak louder than words.

"Fuck"

I unfasten my belt, hear the buttons of my jeans pop open and smell my own sex as my hand curls around my cock.

Her cries spur me on. His grunts make my stomach twist in knots. I can see her dig her nails into his chest, his hands groping her ass as she slowly rotates her hips. I can see his sweat-slicked face, as she leans down to kiss him. His hand slips between her legs and her eyes squeeze shut, her mouth sliding from his.

"So close"

"I'm..."

"Cum..."

My own seed spills over my hand and then I freeze.

"Did you..."

"Downstairs..."

I fumble to do up my pants, frantically wiping the evidence from my hand at the same time.

Too late. I glance over the back of the sofa. She leans against the wall, arms folded, eyebrow cocked. I can smell him on her inner thigh, on the white shirt that barely covers her modesty. I fight to keep my eyes on her face, rather than on the dark circles where her breasts sit and the shadow at the apex of her legs.

I swallow hard, my mind struggling to find a reasonable explanation.

Her glance moves briefly from my face to my crotch and her lips twitch.

"Enjoy the show, brother?"

His arms slide around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he takes in the scene.

I frown, getting to my feet.

"No need to be coy," he murmurs as I brush past him. His fingers curl around my wrist and I glance back. His free hand snakes up to grasp her breast. I pull myself free and climb the stairs, trying and failing to ignore her gasp as he pushes her against the wall.