Okay, right, so I'm crossposting this from AO3, where I actually made it into different parts of a serie, but I'm being lazy and I will only make one story here. So far, Adjusting to our reality is done, and Each a monster is halfway done. There supposedly will be at least five different parts, that is, if I don't give up and discontinue; I hope I won't.
Oh, and, I haven't reread it, nor have I become English or American over the night, so my mistakes and errors are still there. Just saying.
Right, one last thing: rated M mostly for violence, death, but also occasional sex between the main couple. Not often, mind you, but it's there nonetheless.
Begins post season 1, might or might not follow the actual story
A simple friendship between a vampire and a vampire hunter can lead us anywhere, and right now, it's just going astray. Because the characters from the Vampire Diaries are so unlucky, they have every rights to be a little strange.
Summary 2.0: Damon and Alaric have to deal with the daily Mystic Falls' shit, their strange friendship, and things that the hunter seems to be keeping to himself. But while the vampire is investigating his strange behavior, realizing how much they care about each other won't be so simple...
I am really hesitant to post this, because, you know, english is by no means my mother tongue.
So sorry if there are grammatical errors or anything else, but right now, my best allies are the Internet and a dictionnary, and I tried my best.
Hope you won't mind, and, above all, that I didn't write too much atrocities.
And, well, I had so much fun writing this I couldn't let it go to waste.
Adjusting to our reality, part 1: Why was that?
Damon took a sip of alcohol.
He always did that when he didn't dare to stare, absent-minded, at Alaric. Not that he would want to do this, but lately, it had just happened more and more often somehow. Why was that? He had no idea. It was simply bound to happen, sooner or latter. It always ended up happening.
Which was always pretty awkward.
Last time Alaric had seen that he was staring at him, he had given him such a glare!
The thing was that the vampire had killed him. And he had slept with, and turned, his wife. In fact, he pretty much was at the core of how fucked up Alaric's life had turned out to be. Like, the second worst thing that had ever happened to him.
The first one being, obviously, Isobel Flemming.
Seriously, what was the problem with that woman?
Damon was okay with the whole "IwannabeavampireIbegofyouplease" thing, he could understand that. Anyone who had seen him would want to come closer to his awesomeness. But he himself had become a vampire for the sake of love. Not that it had done him any good, but it wasn't the issue here. If Isobel had turned Alaric against his will, he would have understood. If she had him turn her in order to be with her loved one forever, he would have understood.
What she had done after that, he couldn't understand.
Well, truth be told, he had no say in the matter.
Because the worst of all was that, back then, he hadn't given a shit about the husband. He hadn't even known Isobel was married. Or maybe he had, and hadn't given a shit nonetheless. Hadn't been interested in knowing, or remembering, or caring.
Now he knew the guy, and couldn't say so anymore.
Damon had had his fair share of bullshit in his own love life. Katherine had messed it up for sure by playing him as she had. So the vampire had been feeling strangely similar to Ric for some time already. He might even have felt, kind of, guilty. Just a little bit, of course.
He was Damon Salvatore, after all. He was supposed to be a heartless bastard.
He couldn't afford to grow emotional about a goddamn vampire hunter.
But, to go back to the more original question, what was the matter with Isobel?
She had just pissed him off by threatening people he would never ever admit out loud that he cared for. Maybe that was the reason why he was searching for every single way to belittle her.
And one of those was, surprinsingly enough, listing Alaric's qualities and grumbling at how she had been a fool to get rid of such a fine man.
Ric was almost as awesome as Damon himself, the vampire admitted it after their first fight together. Damon was still the best one out there, but the man had earned his place in Team Badass. Considering he was only a human, Alaric was a damned good fighter.
Surely, back in the day, he would have had no difficulty protecting his wife if he had needed to. In a normal world, in a normal life.
Damon had seen the man with Elena's aunt, Jenna.
Ric was gentle, caring, not too intrusive, and willing to do so that it would work between them. He accepted that Jenna could have doubts, could need time, could want to be cautious and not rush into a passionate relationship – something Damon himself had obviously never known how to do, if Katherine was any indication. If Ric hadn't been so obsessed with hunting down vampires, he would have been a perfect man.
Same thing with his drinking habit, it all came from Isobel's treason.
Discarding him was definitely a foolish move.
Damon thought of drowning himself in his glass of bourbon, because all this story reminded him of Katherine and her own antics with his heart. But it was too much trouble, as he wouldn't die of it.
On the bar stool next to him, Ric was obviously considering the same idea, but with a much more fatal outcome. Either way, he wasn't paying any attention to his drinking buddy at this point of his drunkenness.
Damon allowed himself to take a look at the man's face.
Comparing handsomeness, he guessed.
Alaric's features weren't exactly striking or anything, but he was simply handsome. In fact, there was nothing beautiful about him, except his whole being. Every single thing, in its rightful place.
Nose. Eyes. Forehead. Lips. Jaw. One hell of a neck.
Damon bit down on his lower lip. Not the time, not the place for bloodsucking. Not the right person, either. Unless he wished to get staked. Or at least vervained. Possibly both. Alaric's general – and absolutely legitimate – anger towards him could totally drive him to overdo it.
And, damn, why would he want to tear into the hunter's neck?
Aside from the obvious reason, that is, to kill the one who tried to kill him. A classic move, according to his own, personal archives. But, well, they were even, since Damon had punctured one of Alaric's lungs – and killed him, couldn't forget that one, could he? – some time ago.
And really, if he wanted to kill Ric, he would more likely simply break his neck. Sounded way more damonish this way. The vampire only went at the throat of women, if possible young and beautiful, unless he had no other choice – or a great wish to scare someone away as the Big Bad in town.
It was so strange, thinking of all these perfect, normal, logical reasons, and yet feeling the thirst growing, simply overflowing his mind.
Ric was startled by the sound of Damon's head encountering his glass of bourbon. He looked up from his own glass to see the vampire with his nose in a puddle of alcohol, clearly conscious yet unwilling to raise his head back.
The glass was swinging on the board of the bar counter, almost empty.
Damon's nostrils were filled with the scent of bourbon, and it wasn't such a bad thing. For a second, he thought this could put his thirst away. So he planned on staying in this position for a little while. At least, in order to gain some time, and, maybe, get the black veins under his eyes to go back to their original state, human state.
As he pointed out already, this was definitely not the right place to go into vampire-mode, even supposing he restrained himself and managed not to go after any throat in the grill.
So the vampire stayed still for a while.
Alaric glanced at the rolling glass, at the black hair already soaked with bourbon, at the curve of Damon's nape.
Then he looked up to the barman, who wasn't even looking in their direction, as if he had received the order not to notice the vampire unless he was asking for another drink. Which was probably the case. And it would explain the fact that he hadn't ever interrupted them when they were talking about sharp-fanged troublemakers. A very cautious move from Damon, as bartenders did tend to hear and recall more than they were supposed to. Things would end up poorly if some of their conversations were spilled to the sheriff. Especially the ones concerning dead people, not-so-dead people, and people who-souldn't-be-dead-but-were-nonetheless.
All those things crossed Alaric's mind, but at this precise moment, the man wasn't exactly thinking. The alcohol had made its way to his brain for an awful lot of time, since many drinks before, and was now successfully blocking the path to realisation.
Who would have thought, looking at the motionless head, at the pale skin of the vampire's neck, at the ridiculous position, that Damon was a ruthless killer who had lived for more than a century and kept himself alive and attractive by literally vampirizing humans?
Not Alaric, for sure.
If he hadn't know, the mere thought of it would have made him laugh.
In another world, in another life.
Isobel's voice came to his mind, but he couldn't get a word of what she was saying. Not that he minded. After what she had done to him, after having seen her as she was now, Ric just didn't care anymore. In fact, it was even a bit odd. He didn't feel like he had ever felt anything for her.
Which he knew was not true, but again, he was drunk.
Alcohol could do wonders to the mind.
Alaric laid his eyes on the pale nape of Damon once again, thinking about how his own wife had used this body to escape from him. Maybe he had to find another body, one that would hold no meaning to him, so that he could free himself from her.
A one-night stand, not Jenna, not anyone for whom he could have any feeling. Doing it once, out of any fidelity, any restreint.
And then, be free, finally, of what was constantly crushing his heart.
Be a whole new Alaric Saltzman.
He just had to destroy whatever was guarding the little that was left of his history with Isobel. Let it sink into depravity, stain it, desecrate it. Put it on fire and throw the ashes to the wind.
And then start anew, with Jenna, if she wanted to. Someone else, if things went this way. Or even no one, if it was how it was supposed to be.
But, whatever the outcome, get rid of his wife, as she had gotten rid of him.
Eyes still set on Damon, Alaric frowned.
Did this mean he had to erase each and every part of his wife's treason?
If so, Ric would have to kill the vampire. After all, Damon was a part of this, wasn't he?
The hunter, a very drunk hunter, but a hunter nevertheless, looked at the right sleeve of his shirt, and wondered if he should better stake the vampire right now, when his mind was so clouded by alcohol it felt as if it couldn't be clearer, or wait a little, just to be sure of his decision.
He could feel the hard shape of the wooden stake against his arm. Lately, he had his devices on him even at school, while he was teaching, and not only a stake gun in his locker.
Definitely growing paranoid.
Alaric let go of the stupid idea, and put a hand on Damon's shoulder, making him shudder.
"Maybe you should raise your head now. You're beginning to attract attention."
After a moment of hesitation, the very handsome vampire raised his head from the bar counter. He had a confused look on his face, as well as dark veins and red eyes, and wasn't exactly certain of what he had been thinking up to this point.
Then his eyes met Ric's, and he suddenly felt better, without even knowing why. Like Ric just being here made it all better by nature. His features went back to their normal state. Except that he had alcohol all over his face, and some more dripping from his hair.
That was quite a funny sight, and the hunter chuckled.
"Time to go back home, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess so too... Not that I couldn't withstand another round, but I feel kind of ashamed of myself, right now. And Damon Salvatore doesn't know shame, so I have to be out of my mind. Though no worry, my awesomeness will be back after a few hours of rest."
"I would never worry about that. You're too self-important to be a mess, right?"
Damon said nothing in response, and left the bar.
Alaric did the same, but he paid before leaving, something the compulsion maniac never did – or only when he was feeling particularly contrary and decided to be just as much unlike himself as possible because why not.
They walked without talking for a minute, when Damon stopped, lost in his thoughts.
What had come to his mind during the last hour was very disturbing. And it involved a lot of Alaric. But not the way it used to be. Before this day, when he thought about this man, it was mostly about ways to kill him over and over again, not because he hated him or whatever, but simply because Ric had a very funny ring which theoretically allowed Damon to do whatever he wanted and not have to deal with the consequences. Damon wouldn't have materialized those fantasies, or at least he hadn't planned to do so, but it was a hell of a way to spend time.
But without the least warning, he had begun to think about how they could just be friends.
How did the vampire hunter end up in the friendly – but also prohibited – part of his brain?
Taken out of his thoughts, Damon was really surprised as he felt a breath along his neck. He stayed still, completely dumbfounded. And, he had to admit it, it felt strangely comfortable.
Alaric took a step back, then grinned and said, just before leaving:
"You smell good, right now. Like bourbon."
And while Damon was pretty sure he was the less intoxicated of the two of them, he felt like he was the only one to be completely out of it. And, what, wasn't he the one supposed to be lurking around other people's necks?