Hello. It's been awhile since I've posted here, and I'm kinda back into this whole fanfic thing now that TVD is back on air! I love Dalaric. I don't own TVD, if I did, Alaric would be alive. Please read and review. This will possibly be a multi-chapter piece if I get feedback. If no one's interested, I might continue, I might not. ENJOY!
WARNING: Rated M, SMUT, SLASH, BOYxBOY
Alaric was walking towards his apartment more quickly than usual. It had been a long day at school and he was eager to throw down his bag and drink himself into a black-out slumber. This was how his nights were now, an unhealthy combination of stress, alcohol, and utter exhaustion.
Being a high school teacher was hard enough as it was; what with angst-ridden teens aching for rebellion and mountains of papers to grade every night. But not only was Alaric a high school teacher, he was also Mystic Falls' resident vampire slayer…well, somewhat of a vampire slayer. Alaric was working in combined forces with the Salvatore brothers and Elena Gilbert to keep other supernatural threats out of the small town. Yes, Alaric was tired. He was worn weary by the constant barrage of attacks plaguing Mystic Falls as a result of Elena's doppelganger existence, but he would do anything to protect those he loved. And he loved Elena like a daughter. He'd even come to love Stefan to an extent. The younger Salvatore brother was pitifully guilty and human. The only member of the little tribe who Alaric couldn't bear to think about was Damon Salvatore.
He was the devil himself. With black hair, blue eyes, and a slim body that appeared to be carved of alabaster stone, Damon Salvatore was the embodiment of beauty. He was not extremely masculine in the way of facial hair or bulging muscles, but Damon held the beauty of young Roman boys and angels inside the body of a killer. Because not only was Damon drop-dead to look at, there was a good chance the dark vampire would snap your neck for looking. He was savage and brutal, very different from Stefan, though Alaric had to give the guy props. He wasn't afraid to make the necessary decisions for survival. When Elena and Stefan could justify letting Hitler off the hook, Damon could do what needed to be done. He had proven his worth time and time again during the trials of the supernatural in Mystic Falls. In fact, Damon and Alaric were the get it done team, team badass, as Damon had so cockily put it at the grill one night after an early adventure. Alaric had punched him in the face without a word.
He chuckled at the memory.
But Damon was a devil, that was certain. Everyone in Mystic Falls knew that he was in love with Elena, if he was even capable of that emotion. From what Alaric knew, it wasn't possible. Alaric wasn't sure how far Damon would go to steal Elena from Stefan, but the impulsive vampire hadn't succeeded yet, a fact that was surely frustrating to him, seeing as he was used to compelling or killing for whatever he wanted in the past. Alaric couldn't really give a shit less what happened in the love triangle, what irked him was where he fell into it all. Because for the last two weeks, Damon had been showing up unexpectedly OUTSIDE the times they were working together, and acting…strangely.
Alaric didn't know if it was pent up anger or energy, but for the past two weeks, Damon had been showing up and seducing him. No, seducing wasn't the right word. Alaric had been resisting! But what type of chance did a mortal man have against a century-and-a-half old vampire? That's right. For the past two weeks, sporadically, Damon had been fucking Alaric. And Alaric couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
As Alaric neared the door to his loft he sensed something amiss. He smelled something. For a split second he was afraid something was burning. Had he forgotten something this morning? No, he rarely even turned on the oven and he certainly never lit a candle. Plus the smell wasn't bad like burning, it was savory almost like…cooking.
Fumbling with his keys Alaric burst into his own home and was shocked by the sight that greeted him. Damon, that demonic jerk, was standing in his kitchen with an apron-his goddamn apron-wrapped around his slim waist, cooking what looked like some sort of vegetable pasta dish. The only thought that could force itself clearly to the front of Alaric's panicked mind was what the fuck!? And that's exactly what the first words out of his mouth were.
"What the fuck?" Alaric nearly shouted at the elder Salvatore brother who had looked up and was giving him a look that was at once terrifying and inviting. It looked like he liked what he saw, but with a vampire, that wasn't always a good sign.
"What do you mean? I am cook-" Damon started but was abruptly cut off.
"What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in!" Alaric was freaking out internally, but trying to keep some semblance of control outwardly. He couldn't help but feel apprehensive. The last couple of times he'd seen Damon it had led to unwanted experiences that left him feeling ashamed. Now, Damon was in his apartment unannounced cooking. Alaric was more confused than ever. The whirlwind of thoughts going through his head had a common theme: that dark-haired blue-eyed vampire was scaring the shit out of him. But Alaric was sure as Hell NEVER admitting it. So he acted angry. He could only hope Damon's heightened senses couldn't detect his fear.
Damon's eyes hardened a bit. He wasn't going to let Alaric grab the upper hand.
"I said, I am cooking dinner for you. You haven't been eating." Damon's measured words left no room for argument, so of course Alaric had to argue. That is, right after he downed a few gulps of whiskey.
As he reached for the first bottle he saw, he suddenly felt a gust of air whisk past him and the bottle disappeared. Alaric was too tired to compute the miracle. He stood looking dumbly at the spot his best friend Jack Daniels had been sitting.
"And you've been drinking way too much of this." Damon sounded almost chastising as he waggled the bottle in his hand, having already made it back to the kitchen before Alaric could even comprehend the bottle was missing.
"What's it to you?" Alaric was getting exasperated. He was too tired to deal with this outrageous situation calmly.
"I care about you, obviously. You're my vampire slaying buddy and your clothes are hanging off of you and you've been drunk every time I've seen you in the past two weeks."
What was this? Damon worried about him? Impossible. There was some ulterior motive. He probably just wanted to soften Alaric up before dragging Alaric to bed and forcing himself upon the weaker man. Alaric shut out any further memories.
The mention of the past two weeks flew past Alaric's ears on Damon's deep, silky voice and lit an angry fire in Alaric's heart.
"Oh, the past two weeks, eh? Don't know why I would feel driven to drink or not have time to eat, not to mention sleep." The biting sarcasm and contempt in Alaric's voice was tangible.
Damon's face actually morphed from its permanent cocky glare for a split second, looking more like an unsure child. Why did he have to make that face? Alaric couldn't help but see that Damon was the epitome of attractiveness…but he DIDN'T LIKE BOYS!
"I made you dinner." Damon offered up, sounding like a broken record player.
I was frozen to the floor in my living room, unsure what to do.
"But if you would rather skip dinner, that's fine too…" A voice whispered directly into my ear. I could feel the hot breath on my neck. I also felt his leg against the back of mine, nudging ever so slightly. Damon was standing right behind me. I was still frozen.
"Ric, say something." Damon's voice was no longer suggestive. Now it sounded closer to frustration than invitation.
"I-I-" I stuttered; I couldn't get my thoughts in order, so I said the only thing I could be sure was right: "Damon! Get. Out."
Damon stepped back. For a second I thought I'd hurt his feelings. However, his mask of confidence didn't even waver. I should've known it wouldn't be that easy.
"That's more like it." Damon grinned, apparently satisfied at having elicited a response from me, no matter what I'd said. "Now, why don't you eat something? I mean, seriously, I'm worr-you should eat something. You look weak. You'll get yourself killed pretty damn quick if you don't snap out of this soon. You're not a vampire. You have to feed yourself, and you can't down a bottle of whiskey a night."
As if to show off himself as an example, Damon drained my bottle in one gulp. I eyed him unsurely.
"What? I've had more than a century to build up my tolerance."
This was the Damon I was used to. I felt a bit more comfortable and looked over to see what exactly he'd created on my stovetop, wearing my apron, in my house. I had to admit it looked good. I got a plate and started eating. The whole time, Damon stood by the table, looking at me. I just ignored him. He was fucking weird. Whatever was up with him, I hoped it passed quickly.
Then again, here I was, basically encouraging him. What was stopping me from calling Stefan? If I really hated Damon barging in unannounced and…well, taking advantage of me-damn it Alaric, you know that's not what it is. Damon isn't raping you. Sure, you didn't ask for it, but you enjoyed it. You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but the reason you're not calling anyone is because you want it to happen again.
No. I shook my head. I did not want this. But even as I convinced myself, I knew, deep down, that I liked Damon's attention. I wasn't gay. Or at least I didn't used to be, but Damon was a different matter entirely. He was stunningly beautiful, smart, evil, and he was my best friend. Wasn't it an honor to be regarded so closely by a man-a vampire-who'd walled most people off? When we'd done it, I'd loved it. Yeah, I regretted it the next morning, and it had caused me copious amounts of shame, self-hatred, and drinking, but Damon was Damon. No one said no to Damon, not even the man who'd come to Mystic Falls to kill him.
"I know I'm hot, Ric, but there's no need to stare. You can see me whenever you want." Damon's snide, arrogant comment made me realize that while I'd been thinking about him, I'd subconsciously been staring at his body. Thank god I didn't blush. I was mortified.
"Don't flatter yourself, I'm just tired." I played it off.
"Sure, you say. If you're tired, let's go to bed." Damon winked. How was he acting so obvious about all this? Didn't he have any doubt that I was going to let him stay? Then I remembered, whether I let him or not, Damon was staying.
"I'm not going to the bedroom with you." I spat, using all my strength to effectively drive him away. "If you insist on staying here, then I'll take the couch. Or you could go to the mansion you own. It isn't as if you are out of space."
Damon chuckled. "Oh, come on, don't be that way."
I stood up from the table to put my plate in the sink, ignoring Damon's comment. I had to be firm about this. I wasn't going to be his personal plaything. Before I took a step, he was next to me, taking my plate himself.
"I'll get it." He said simply, whisking the plate into the kitchen and returning in a fraction of a second. "Now, where was I?"
Damon smiled devilishly, snaking his strong arm around my waist and pushing himself against me so our faces were no more than a few inches apart.
"I want to sleep in the bed." His eyes were dark cobalt. His gaze held me in place with its heat.
"I said you could sleep-"
"You are coming too." Damon cut me off with a kiss. I was still shocked by the rough feel of his mouth on mine. It was much different than any of the girls I'd kissed. Damon's lips were filled with passion and desire, and he could manipulate me to feel the same way.
I felt his tongue in my mouth, seeking mine out and swirling around it, dominating me. I wasn't going to get swept away this time, I told myself sternly. I pushed my tongue against his, trying to close the kiss. He just took it as a challenge and deepened it instead, pushing harder against me. I stifled a moan. He was holding me up, my muscles were limp in defeat. I couldn't hold out against this.
When I finally had a chance to come up for air I made one last ditch attempt to save myself from going along with him.
"Damon, no!" I said with my hands against his chest, pushing futilely.
"What? You want me to stop?" Damon asked innocently, running his tongue up my neck, nipping me lightly just below my jaw line, teasing me. I squinted my eyes shut, trying to remember why I wasn't supposed to be doing this. Before I could react, I felt that he'd backed me up against a wall. Literally.
Damon held my hands pinned against the wall on either side of my face, attacking my lips with new ferocity. His leg was pressing between mine, keeping them apart. My squirming only resulted in grinding against his thigh. I stopped abruptly, holding as still as possible. I was sweating with the effort.
In between kisses Damon breathed into my mouth. "You know…Alaric…I don't know why you pretend not to…want me. It's so obvious…you do."
His words infuriated me. But still I was a victim to his advances.
He let go of my hands, instead wrapping his arms around my neck, pulling me close to him. I could smell his distinct perfume of whiskey and masculinity. It was appealing. It's no wonder he could have a new woman in his bed each night, even without compulsion.
Somewhere in the midst of this Damon had carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed beneath him. His leg was still in between mine, but he was no longer kissing me. His hands were preoccupied with undoing the buttons on my shirt. He fumbled for a few seconds and then resorted to just ripping my shirt open, scattering buttons all over the floor.
"Damon!" I whined, "I have to have shirts for school!"
"Shut up, I have enough shirts to last the rest of the year." Damon said gruffly, letting his cool hands roam my chest. I arched toward him a bit, relishing the light grazing of his skin against mine. The thought of wearing his shirts excited me, even though I knew they would never fit. Damon was smaller than me, less broad. Still, I couldn't help but like the idea in my state.
When I looked back up to Damon, his eyes were dark and shadowy. I flinched, momentarily terrified of his vampire façade. How could I have been this stupid? Letting a vampire get me alone?
Damon noticed my panic. "Calm down, Ric, I'm not Stefan." He said with a sigh, his face going back to its normal, perfect self.
Then, Damon's hands started working on my pants. I had a noticeable bulge constrained under the fabric, so did he. I laid my head back, trying to relax. Before long my pants were off and Damon was preoccupied with a certain area below my waist. I looked down to see what he was doing and was surprised by the feeling of his warm mouth around me. I cried out quietly, making Damon grin and continue sucking my cock. He was good. I wondered where he got this type of experience from. Did this mean that Damon had done it with other men? I shoved the thought down. Maybe I would ask him about it later, if I had the courage. I didn't think about that for long either, I was overwhelmed by the pleasure Damon was giving me. I was losing all sense of what was right and wrong, appropriate or not. It felt so damn good.
"Damon…" I whispered, not wanting to let him know how far gone I was. I refused to moan his name loudly.
"Hmmm…" He hummed. Shit. Forgot about his vampire hearing. The vibrations of Damon's throat caused me to thrust involuntarily. I wanted his mouth all over me, on my mouth, on my body, on my dick. My hands were grasping at thin air, trying to find something to hold onto as Damon took me towards the edge.
And just like that it was gone. Damon had stopped sucking me and undressed himself. He was standing at the foot of the bed, in all his vampiric beauty. His tight muscles were defined but not hulking. He was slim and perfect. His raven hair flopped over his forehead, messy. His blue eyes glowed from under long, black lashes. And his lips. They were wet and…they were Damon. I loved every part of him.
Wait. Had I just thought the word love? Jesus I must be pent up.
Damon leaned over me, his naked torso against mine. Our bodies melded together perfectly. My hands moved of their own accord up into his disheveled hair. Damon hovered over me, piercing me with his stare. He looked a little questioning. I didn't say anything. I didn't trust myself.
He moved his hands to my hips and gently turned me over. I tensed up, knowing what he wanted. It wasn't that I minded. I probably got as much pleasure from this as he did, but the thought made me apprehensive. We'd done it before. That didn't mean I was used to getting fucked by a guy.
Damon leaned over my back, biting my ear with his human teeth, not to draw blood. At the same time he brought a hand up into my hair, controlling my head, turning it so that our mouths could meet. He made it a forceful kiss, overpowering my timidity. My tension eased, replaced with the desire that had tormented me earlier.
Damon broke the kiss, sitting up and biting his wrist. This was how he'd done it the last time too. He rubbed the blood over his cock and then put one hand on my hip. I was laying perfectly still. I felt one of his fingers slip inside me. It didn't really hurt.
He gradually added more until I felt the tip of his cock inside me. I gasped, and in response Damon wrapped his arms around me, one hand on my stomach, the other on my side. It tickled a little bit. I didn't even notice he'd pushed all the way in as he distracted me with his hands.
He slowly thrusted, giving me time to get used to the partially painful sensation. The hand that had been on my stomach moved to my dick, moving in time with his hips. I was propped on my forearms, bracing myself. When I was like this I felt vulnerable. I felt scared but simultaneously excited.
The feeling of Damon's cock inside me was all-consuming. As he picked up the pace I tried in vain to contain myself but soon I was keeping up almost a continuous chant of murmurs. Damon wasn't exactly silent either. He was humming and moaning too.
He was hitting my sweet spot, making my vision go blurry. I never wanted him to stop. I could feel my orgasm building up in my groin. Damon's cool skin against me was relieving. I was burning up, a thin sheen of sweat coating me.
Damon leaned over my back, scratching my shoulder with his teeth. I turned my head over my shoulder to see what he was doing. He didn't even look up at me. His fangs were extended and he was pressing them against my shoulder just lightly enough so that they didn't break through. Something about his face at that moment was undeniably sexy. I turned my head back to the sheets, relishing the sharp prick of Damon's mouth, the pressure building up inside me from his pounding against my hips, his hand pumping me for all I was worth.
Finally I exploded, yelling out in ecstasy. Every pleasurable feeling culminated at once, washing over me in waves. I felt the heat of my cum on my stomach, and my body shuddered. My hair was coated with sweat. Damon didn't stop fucking me, drawing out my climax. I was slumped beneath him, his arm the only thing holding me steady so he could continue his assault.
Moments later Damon found his release.
"Ric!" He shouted. The sound of his voice and the feel of him cumming inside me were beautiful. I felt momentarily proud that he enjoyed being with me so much.
We both collapsed after that, our bodies entangled on top of my comforter. Damon maneuvered himself so that his face was next to mine. His hooded eyes never lost their intensity, and he was intent on never removing them from my face.
"Damon…" I was about to ask him what he was doing. What he wanted from this? Barging into my house at night, cooking for me, ruining me. Why was he doing it? I wanted to think it was me, that he really couldn't help himself, couldn't get enough of me. I didn't want this at the start, but there was no going back to our old friendship now.
Damon hushed me, ever so lightly pressing his finger to my lips. Then, he leaned forward and ever so lightly pressed his lips to my forehead. He stayed like that for awhile. Maybe he was hoping I'd fall asleep. I didn't.
"Damon?" I whispered after some undeterminable amount of time.
"I'm sorry Ric…" He said hoarsely.
Thank God it was dark, so he couldn't see the tears running down my face. I was empty. I couldn't let this keep going on. I wouldn't survive.
TO BE CONTINUED…