Tyler waited in the shadows for what felt like an eternity until the Salvatore brothers had left their house. Stefan was the first to leave, with Elena; it took at least another hour before the eldest, Damon left with Jeremy Gilbert reluctantly in tow. Tyler knew Mason was here, he could smell his scent; but there was an undercurrent of something beneath it. There was the totally Mason-like smell of seawater and sand that Tyler had grown accustomed to night after night spent with face buried in Mason's chest, waking up and breathing deep his scent that lingered on the pillow well after Mason had gone for a run. No, something just wasn't right and Tyler could feel it.

He crept up the stairs, slowly, not putting it past the vampires to have some sort of werewolf booby-trap rigged up. He used all his strength to push open the large wooden door but found it unnecessary as the door was unlocked. Rather than dwelling on how strange that seemed, Tyler made his way down the hall, following Mason's scent.

Tyler stopped cold in his tracks as the heavy stench of death hit him full force as he walked into the Salvatore living room. There, strapped to a high-backed chair with a gaping hole in his chest sat Mason. Tyler walked robotically to the lifeless body of his love. He reached his hand out to stroke across Mason's face, taking in the eyes that once shone so bright, the sun would have been jealous. Tyler dropped to his knees, his grip on Mason's body fierce as he cried out, sounding more like the wounded animal he was more than ever before.

The tears flowed thick and fast down his cheeks, dripping down to mix with and dilute the puddle of blood he was kneeling in. "Goddamit Mason," Tyler screamed at his lover, crying harder with each passing moment.

"Please, Mason please. I need you. You can't go like this," his words were futile at best. Tyler was unwilling to allow anymore of the reality of the situation sink in. He held tighter to Mason's body as he remembered him and Mason together. The past few weeks since his father had died, Tyler felt bad saying it, but they had been the best. The last time Mason was around Tyler was 11 years old with a schoolyard crush on his badass uncle. Now that he'd grown up and filled out he was no longer the lanky kid of his childhood, Mason had taken notice the first moment he saw Tyler. He could clearly see the tone and definition of his lean body, looking more like the man Tyler assumed he was. They didn't even make it past the first night of his return.

It was almost three in the morning when Tyler silently slipped into the house through the kitchen door. He nearly jumped out of his own skin when he turned around from locking the door and Mason stood there in his boxer, eating a bowl of cereal.

"Fuck Uncle Mason. Creep much?" His laughter was nervous and they both could tell.

"I could say the same thing to you, sneaking in through back doors at such a late hour," Mason smirked and shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

Tyler had to stop his staring at his uncle's lips long enough to answer, "Dude it's my house. I can come in whatever door I want."

"Yeah well, it was my house first so I can still question your methods."

"Whatever bro," Tyler tried to step around but Mason was having none of that.

"Where ya been," he asked, putting his bowl down on the counter as he leaned to let his hip rest against the island.

"Out," Tyler stated bluntly, finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes off Mason's chest and stay focused on the conversation.

"Who with?"

"No one," Tyler answered, "Seriously Uncle Mase," he added at the skeptical look Mason was throwing him.

"Cut the shit Tyler, I can smell the perfume," Mason's anger barely below the surface. Tyler turned his eyes downward, knowing he'd been caught. "Did she satisfy you?" Mason stepped closer to his nephew, a mix of anger, genuine curiosity and what something he would later deny he felt at the time, jealousy spurring his movements.

Tyler stammered, shocked by both the question and how quickly the space between himself and Mason was decreasing. Suddenly feeling bold Tyler recovered and fired back, "She did, for awhile at least. But it wasn't enough."

Mason smirked at his nephew, impressed by his confidence. "What happened," he asked, "was she young, inexperienced?" Mason's voice was almost low enough to be considered a growl. "Did she fumble when she tried to undo your belt?" Mason's hands were suddenly on Tyler's hips tugging him closer still by the pant loops.

"Y-yeah she did," Tyler was all but panting against his uncle's neck. His hands, completely unbeknownst to him had themselves gripped onto Mason's forearms in an attempt for skin on skin contact.

"Did she moan into your mouth when your lips first slid across hers," Mason was less than a whisper away from Tyler, his breath hot on the younger man's face.

"She did," Tyler wasn't sure whether he had said it out loud or not but if Mason's reaction was anything to go by, he had.

"Show me," Mason said before finally crashing his lips to Tyler's. Tyler did just as his uncle told him and moaned into the kiss, even reaching up to cup Mason's face much like the girl whose name now escaped him did to him. Mason tugged Tyler's jacket off to the floor before breaking the kiss long enough to pull off Tyler's shirt. Tyler stepped closer into Mason's space, backing him up against the island's countertop. Once he had Mason firmly in between the counter and his growing erection, he slid his hands down his uncle's sides, tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Tyler could feel himself hardening at the memory of that first night. He was repulsed almost to the point of being physically ill as he stood up long enough to sit in Mason's lap, wanting to be close to his lover.

Tyler ran his hands along the jaw-line of his deceased lover, further committing this image of Mason to his memory. He lifted his head so that he could look into Mason's eyes. They were distant to say the very least, like he wasn't really looking at the Mason he knew. Tyler dropped a kiss to his cheek before straddling his lover's corpse's lap. His hands inched lower, fingers stained with blood as he reached the part of Mason he loved most. He felt as hollow as the very hole he tried to cover with his hands.

Tyler's skin was on fire, turned on in the sickest way possible and he couldn't hold out any longer. He rutted up against Mason's leg, his moans broken up by the quiet sobs that never totally subsided. His mind wandered back to that night in the kitchen.

Tyler had Mason's boxers around his knees and was tugging firmly on his member in between kisses. Outwardly Tyler was as confident as ever but inside he was totally losing his mind. "God, I should not want you this much," Tyler panted.

"Ha, join the club kid. Imagine how I feel," Mason pulled Tyler's jeans down to cup him through his boxers, squeezing lightly, "wanting nothing more than to fuck that smirk right off your face. You got that from me, you know." Mason reached inside Tyler's boxers, pulling out his nephew's cock and began stroking it in earnest. Tyler let his head drop to Mason's shoulder when his uncle's nail caught just right on the underside of the crown of his penis.

"Uncle Mase," Tyler couldn't bring himself to completely beg even though he needed Mason so much it scared him.

Mason stopped his movements and looked Tyler in the eyes, "What do you want, Ty?" He asked using his nephew's childhood nickname.

"You, Uncle Mason; I want you." The brutal honesty in his voice making Mason moan, a visible tremor rolling through his body.

"Take your clothes off." Tyler did as he was told as Mason hopped onto the island countertop. "Suck me good baby boy, it's the only lube we have."

By this point Tyler was so painfully hard inside his jeans, he didn't care how sick it was that he was getting off in his dead lover's lap to memories of the two of them together. He undid his pants, sighing loudly with relief as the pressure against his dick decreased dramatically. He palmed himself through his boxers, the sound of his heavy breathing the only noise in the house apart from the crackling and popping from the fireplace.

Tyler bit his lip, suppressing the noises that were threatening to spill out of his mouth at the deplorable thing he was doing. He reached inside his boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock. He gave himself a few harsh tugs as he finally felt himself pop free from the confines of his boxers. His mind continued to drift back to his most cherished memory of the man beneath him.

"Fuck, Tyler! Where in the fuck did you learn that?" Mason's chest was heaving from what his young nephew was doing with his tongue.

"I read about it," Tyler admitted, the slightest of blushes creeping up his neck.

"Good," Mason panted, "Reading is good." Mason's head slammed back onto the table as he felt Tyler's throat contract around him. He pushed Tyler off of him harshly as his back began to arch off the countertop, knowing the end was fast approaching.

After a few moments of gathering his thoughts, Mason sat up and reached out for Tyler's hips, fitting him perfectly between his legs that dangled off the edge of the counter. Mason took in Tyler's entire expression before diving in to taste himself on his nephew's lips.

Eventually the two pulled back, desperate for air. Mason helped Tyler climb up onto the island so that he was straddling Mason's hips. Tyler chose that moment to grind his own rock hard erection down onto his uncle's, making them both moan at the friction. Enjoying the sounds Mason was making, Tyler began to pick up the pace of his grinding motion, losing himself in the sensation of their members rubbing together and the feeling of Mason's hand; one of which had found its way to his chest, flicking at his left nipple, the other had snaked its way behind him, teasing at his hole.

"Uncle Mase," Tyler moaned as Mason's fingers slipped inside him to the first knuckle. Mason maneuvered so he was sitting up with Tyler still on his lap.

"Ty, such a good boy, taking me in so easily." Mason ravished Tyler's neck and chest with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and light nips at his skin.

"I used to do this to myself, unghh, while I thought of you, Uncle Mason."

Mason faltered in his movements as he let what Tyler had just said wash over him, "I need to be in you, now, Tyler," Mason said as he pulled out his finger, spitting into his palm for lube. He rubbed that and the pre-come that he had been steadily dripping out up and down his cock. He grabbed Tyler's hips and helped the younger man ease down on top of his cock.

Mason's head fell forward onto Tyler's shoulder and his fingers dug deep, crescent moon shaped marks into Tyler's skin as he felt his nephew try to pull him into his body. He looked up to watch Tyler's face; Tyler's eyes were screwed shut, his bottom lip being worried between his teeth as he tried to relax his body. Mason grabbed Tyler's face, startling the younger man and crushed their lips together as he forced himself the rest of the way inside his nephew.

"Damn Mason," Tyler looked down the very limited space between his own body and his uncle's to watch as Mason's cock disappear inside him. Watching himself get fucked by his uncle set every single nerve ending in Tyler's body on fire and he couldn't stop himself from vocalizing the intense pleasure he was feeling. He racked his nails down Mason's back as he felt Mason wrap a hand around his leaking member.

"Your mother will hear us if you don't shut the fuck up," Mason growled in Tyler's ear, squeezing his cock to just this side of pain. The idea of Mason controlling him and demanding him to be quiet had Tyler shaking with his orgasm that slammed him out of nowhere. Mason followed soon behind, wrapping his hand around Tyler's throat as the sensation of his nephew's hole clenching around him had him spilling his hot seed inside Tyler.

The sick, wet sound of Tyler rubbing his blood coated hand up and down his member echoed thickly in the large room. His tears, still openly streaming down his face, continued to pool with the blood dripping from Mason's open chest.

Tyler stood up from his place on Mason's lap only to move to a kneeling position in front of his uncle, his hand not once faltering in its brutal rhythm on himself. Tyler looked up Mason's body from his view on his knees; taken aback by how different he looked when he was normally like this in front of Mason. He began to sob harder at how real the situation was becoming. He soon felt the familiar sparking sensation at the base of his spine, his balls tightened with each stroke. Tyler reached his free hand out to grab Mason's hand that hung lifeless beside the chair. He pulled his hand to his own face, covering his nose and mouth with his uncle's palm, inhaling deeply. That was enough for him. The scent of his uncle, his lover and the memory of it all had Tyler coming hard, adding to the mixture of blood and tears on the carpet. Tyler sat, nearly dry heaving, from the realization of what he had just done, not knowing that he was no longer alone.

"I thought I smelled wet dog."