AN: Soooo this popped into my mind after a trip to France where I realized that french towels whilst super absorbent are also itsy bitsy tiny! I swear, they are about the size of an american bath rug! Now that makes for an interesting and enticing peekaboo effect and my mind just had to imagine Damon strutting around in one :)

This Fic happens when Damon and Elena are searching for Stefan whilst he is running around with Klaus to pay for the cure for Damon.


The room is full of steam and the shower water hits Damon's weary back as it falls on it like a blessing. He is so fucking tired of feeling guilty... Guilty because Saint Stefan had to play the hero, because his dumb ass little brother had to go and get indebted to Klaus to save him! Didn't Stefan know that Damon wasn't worth saving?

"Stupid, caring baby brother." - Damon mutters under the water stream as his fits weakly pound the tiles of the hotel bathroom wall that he is sharing with the lovely and unobtainable Elena.

Damon ponders that he never considered that there would be a hell like this... To be in love with your brother's loyal girlfriend, to feel the sexual tension between the two of you but not be able, not be allowed, to act because the only reason she is here is because your brother saved your fucking life. Then to have to track baby bro by the trail of ripped bodies across the continental USA only to find out that the SOB hopped on a plane to Paris - apparently terrorizing one continent is not enough.

When they find out, Elena is all brown doe eyes staring at him, hand over his heart and words like "we owe it to him" on her kissable lips. So Damon does what he always does when she twists the knife just so and manipulates him into the most whipped man on earth... he acquiesces.

So they compel the school principle, the airline counter crew (hey, everyone should travel first class and get unlimited free booze), the immigration officer asking about her lack of visa and just like that they arrive in Paris 16 hours later with light bags and heavy hearts.

"Fuck me..." - Damon cusses at how life got this messed up. When he thought about bringing Elena to Paris he didn't include a baby bro rescue mission. No, his thoughts were more along the lines of expensive hotels with high tread count sheets, sex marathons and moans cascading from her lips; or the city's dazzling lights, the French "je ne sais quoi" getting under their skins, absinthe coating their throats and gaining access to forbidden places like the Louvre at night, the top of the Eiffel Tower, The Versailles Gardens under the moonlight and Elena's heart.

But Damon's life has never worked as he planned... Maybe he needed to get a brooding forehead and a hero's hairdo of his own...

"Or maybe I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and just get on with the show." - he grumbled reproaching himself as he turned of the water and braced his heart to play the part of the helpful older brother of the boy that went missing - "Fuck my life..."

As Damon reached for the towel and ran it over his hair and skin, he was thankful that the hotel hadn't skimped on the towel quality. He didn't think he could cope with non absorbent towels today. In a routine motion, once his hair, face and torso were satisfactorily dried, Damon moved to wrap the towel around his waist.

"WTF?!" - he hisses, looking at the offending towel with killer eyes because it is too small to fully cover his assets - "Fucking French twats!"

"Damon?" - Elena's voice through the door interrupts his tirade -"I know you need your beauty routine" - she admonishes and he prickles at her words -"But we didn't come to Paris for the sightseeing! We need to get going Marie Antoinette." - she hisses.

In any other circumstances Damon would have thought the historical reference cute. After all Elena was still a highschooler and her cultural knowledge was kiddie pool deep. However, in this instance, her calling him a princess was just one more thing to get him annoyed, so he looked down at the tiny towel and a smirk graced his lips.

Elena wanted him to hurry up, did she? Well, well, then he was going to make her wishes come true and maybe..., maybe his wishes too. So the fucking towel doesn't go all the way around, but hey, he is Damon and what does he care? And it was Elena's idea to come to Paris anyway and to split the hotel bill, which means they have to share the room as they are looking for baby bro and Klaus. So he struts out of the shower room, all confidence and devil may care and Elena's acid glare dies in her eyes when she sees him and the towel that doesn't quite hide it all.

"You were saying?" - Damon asks in a sultry voice, innuendo dripping from every syllable.

Elena gives an audible gasp as desire coils deep inside of her and Damon slowly stalks forward like the predator she always knew he was.

"Damon..." - she says breathy. Neither of them knows for sure if it is a plea or a warning.

"Elena" - he retorts lustfully, playfully, oh so dangerously, as he invades her personal space.

Elena's eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed and her teeth worry her lower lip, but she doesn't back away. Damon can imagine all sorts of sinful things she could be doing, better things she should be doing, with those luscious eager lips.

Time seems to stand still and accelerate all at once. He is waiting, she is waiting, he is ready to pounce, he is ready to run and pretend this is nothing so that she can continue to live her lies. Her dam lies...

And then it happens... To Damon's total surprise it really happens... He can hardly believe it, but Elena has always had a knack for turning the tables on him...

When he feels her hands land flat against his hips Damon wonders if she is trying to push him away. He hopes against hope that she is actually trying to bring him closer... But his mind is a mess because of the contact of her skin against his where the towel doesn't quite cover his groin...

"Just once..." - she whispers to the jury in her mind and Damon has no words to fill his smart mouth. So he watches and prays and hopes... he hopes so much...

Then Elena erases all doubts as her moves become more assured and bold. She takes advantage of the gap left by the small towel and wraps her hand around Damon's erection, taking possession of it as if it belongs to her. Clever girl, it does...

Upon contact a deep rumble echoes in Damon's chest and a feeling of coming home overtakes his weary heart. As Elena starts moving her hands up and down his member, Damon's hands tangle themselves hesitantly in her brown locks.

The towel falls to the floor and Elena stares in wonder and desire at the revealed flesh between her hands. Damon breathes the sight in, the woman he loves and longs for every night drinking him up with a carnal hunger to match his own. His heart aches with need but he is too afraid to move, too scared of saying something that will make this dream end and Elena come to her senses.

Damon thinks he has already reached heaven because he never thought they would come to this. But Elena surprises him anew, making him purr loudly because he feels her eager tongue tasting the tip of his penis. Then she wraps her hungry mouth over its entire length and all he can do is pray that this moment never ends for he knows now that he will never be able to let go of her after this...


AN: I hope you guys like it. I think it is going to stay as a one shot. I haven't decided yet but I think that leaving the next "chapter" up to each reader's imagination might be a good idea. Please R&R xoxo