Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, stories or concepts of The Vampire Diaries, neither the series nor the books. If I did, I would have given Bonnie a well-deserved tropical vacation.
It's a balmy Saturday night in Mystic falls, yesterday's rain leaving a heavy and humid blanket of air over the town. Stefan was out hunting for bunnies, and Damon was in the living room of the boarding house, alone, nursing a glass of bourbon. Call it old-fashioned, but he wasn't one to use air conditioning too often, instead choosing to lounge about shirtless and in his boxer-briefs. It was rare for there to be a weekend without some form of supernatural drama, but he was happy for the quiet. Shifting himself to lay down further on the couch, he opened his copy of Catching Fire to the page he left off before. The page was bent from where he folded it, but nobody was ever going to find out that he read this book anyway, let alone know he was disrespecting the paper of the pages.
About 50 pages in, he got a text from Stefan:
going out. be back some time tomorrow
Stefan? Going out? Impossible. He and Elena must have made up and went somewhere together. His stick-in-the-mud brother was not the type to just go out to a club or a bar on his own. Damon took another swig of his bourbon and settled back into the world of Katniss and state-sponsored killings. His peace and solitude only lasted another half hour though, when he was interrupted with another text message- from Elena. A flurry of shorter messages from her bombarded his phone after that, arriving faster than he could read them.
Damnn
imean *damon
Can u come piCK me up
Im at Witmoree
Fi sigma fiiii
Thx 3
It was starting to seem like Elena and Stefan weren't out together after all. Damon was a little bit bothered by how her messages felt like more of a command than a question, but hey, he wasn't that busy anyway. Putting away his book, he glanced at the clock. What the hell is Elena doing at Whitmore at 3am? Wait, he's an idiot. Phi sigma phi? Whitmore? She's at a frat party. He shot her a quick text back.
On my way.
He rushed upstairs to throw on a white v neck and jeans and hopped over the door into his open-topped Camaro, thankful that he didn't choose to binge drink bourbon and read a book instead.
90 miles per hour was probably a little too fast to drive the winding roads to Whitmore. The tree lined roads were flying by, and anyone without vampire-sharp eyesight probably would have crashed by now. But he was Damon Salvatore, and he was not about to let precious little Elena spend one more minute at a frat party. Thankfully, in some of his more wild times, he had spent more than enough time on Whitmore campus to have a solid idea of where the frat house in question was. He pulled up outside the deceptively stately looking den of iniquity, the bass from shitty party speakers flooding out the windows. Parking right in front of the lawn, he hopped out of the car to find Elena. It would be a lot less creepy to call her phone and listen for the ring. But it was loud, and even with vampire hearing it might be hard to pick out the ring from a distance. He could, however, use his vampire smell and find her. He would know her smell anywher-
Lost in thought, he was caught off guard when a pair of slender arms grabbed him from behind and spun him around.
"DAMON, YOU CAME" slurred Elena. She was hugging him around the neck now, her body a bit wobbly; she was quickly becoming dead weight, and he shifted his hands to her back to support her. The smell of alcohol was rolling off of her. What was it? A true alcohol connoisseur, Damon was able to narrow it down to Tequila, Vodka and terrible, keg-stand quality beer. But there was something else.
"Wait, is little perfect, good girl Elena ... cross-faded?"
"Pfft of course not Damon" She said the last word like she was a petulant teenager talking back to her parents. "I've just had a couple drinks, and maybe … smoked a joint or two?" She tried to hold her fingers an inch apart to emphasize how little she had partaken in the substances, but instead her fingers were touching and it looked ridiculous.
"Oh my mistake, I see it now. You are completely sober."
Instead of making an annoyed face at his sarcasm, she just let out a huge, full body giggle. Her black mini skirt was riding up her legs, and her tight red silky top was hanging on by one strap, the other hanging off her shoulder. She had clearly put a lot of effort into her makeup, considering the amount of lipstick smeared onto the back of her hand and the eyeliner gathering under her eyes. She still looked beautiful to him, but she embodied the definition of a hot mess. Looking down at her feet, he realized she was barefoot. In her hands, she was clutching only one shoe.
"Well cinderella, your carriage awaits. Wouldn't want to wait too long, or it will turn back into a pumpkin"
"Ooh ok yes that would be … bad" She was fading fast. He tried to hold her hand and help her walk to the car.
"NO, I can do it myself. But after a few staggered steps, she suddenly jumped on his back instead. "THERE. This is better" She rested her head on his shoulder, and he couldn't help but notice how her legs were wrapped around his back. Should he take a second and just enjoy this? Sober Elena was never this rambunctious. When they got to the car, he swung her around him in one swift movement, and he held her in his arms, putting her down on the passenger seat.
The second they started driving back to mystic falls, this time at a reasonable speed, Damon realized that this was the closest way to compulsion that he could get some honest answers out of Elena. He didn't really know what was going on between her and Stefan, but he would be lying if he said he didn't want to know.
"So answer me this Elena. Why did you text me to pick you up instead of Stefan?" This question was a test to see if she knew that he went out or not, because now he knew for sure that he was not at the party with her. He doubted that this would get more information out of her than that, but it would at least tell him if Stefan bothered to tell Elena he was 'going out'.
"I couldn't. He wouldn't get it. He would be all 'Why are being so reckless Elena. This is so irresponsible Elena. You shouldn't smoke pot Elena. Getting that drunk is dangerous Elena. You can't just go out partying and drinking like Damon does Elena. Damon is rubbing off on you too much Elena." She emphasized the word 'Elena' harder each time, making the conversation sound like Stefan was a strict parent as opposed to her boyfriend. That last line particularly caught Damon's attention though.
"Stefan thinks that I am a bad influence on you?"
"Yeah but he's wrong. You're good. You don't let people know it but you're GOOD."
If her words weren't slurred, the might have had a bit more of an effect. Her feet were up on the dashboard, the wind from the convertible tousling her already messy hair. As she pressed play on his cassette player, he was incredibly thankful that he had left a cheap trick tape in and not something embarrassing like the soundtrack to A Chorus Line. She looked so carefree, despite her tirade about Stefan. It was like she wasn't engulfed in a vampire drama for once, just having teenage girl problems indulging in underage drinking. Damon wished she could just be like this forever. She deserved to be young. But, she was a doppelganger, and neither of them could change that. He couldn't help but feel the irony in the lyrics.
I want you to want me
I need you to need me
Suddenly Elena was singing along and tapping her hand against the door. Her hand fell to his against the stick shift and this was torture for him. She was smiling when he looked over, and despite being completely trashed, she was radiating with happiness.
As they were getting close to Mystic Falls, he was so tempted to just drive her to the boarding house and take care of her himself. He was tempted to do other things, but not while she was this way. With the resolve of a much more honorable man than he was, he turned down the road toward her house instead.
"No Damon! I can't go home, Jenna thinks I'm at Bonnie's. Take me to the Salvatore house" Her tone was downright suggestive, and wait, did she just wink at him? Just a single flick of her eyelashes and he could already feel the fire building inside of him. Against his better judgement, he was going to give into what she wanted.
"Your wish is my command" wheels squealing as he pulled a quick u-turn. She pushed into his body a bit from the quick turn, and he swore he heard her heartbeat a bit faster. It was probably from the reckless driving. Pulling up to the boarding house, she stumbled a bit as she tried to get out of the car. Damon rushed to catch her immediately.
"Humans really can't take their alcohol. We are getting you to bed, and I'm going to make you drink water even if I have to compel you to do it"
Closing the distance so there was only an inch between them, she purred "What else are you going to compel me to do"
Now that was downright unfair. He took a deep breath to try to keep his composure, trying to ignore just how much his body wanted to show her exactly what he wanted to do. Her human warmth was radiating through his body, adding fuel to the embers he had been fighting to extinguish. She was being a tease- a dirty tease. His pants began to tighten, his body wanting to pin her against the front door. He tried to save face and muster up his best eye roll, but it didn't have the same sarcastic effect. A shock shot through his nerves, and if he felt the closest thing a vampire could have to a blush flush across his face. He was losing this battle.
Once inside the boarding house, he went to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, attempting to rebuild his resolve to not give in. Elena was drunk, he couldn't let her intoxication trick him into acting out his daily fantasies with her. Walking back to the living room, he expected her to maybe lay on the couch and immediately pass out. He wouldn't be surprised if she threw up on his persian rug. What he didn't expect was for the living room speakers to start blasting dance music. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.
Elena was dancing around the room, bottle of bourbon in her hand, pouring him a drink.
"Nobody likes to be the only drunk one. Also, I've never seen you NOT drunk on a Saturday Damon." A small growl escaped her faded crimson lips as she uttered his name, making it sound like a sin. She shoved the glass into his face, almost spilling it right on his shirt. He couldn't take this. He was the bad brother for christ's sake, but not even a saint would be able to resist her. What the hell, he might as well join the fun. He threw back the bourbon, grabbed the bottle and filled his glass to the brim. Realizing this wouldn't even get him buzzed, he finished off the glass, resorting to the bottle of vodka reserved specifically for benders, and drank straight from the bottle. This was a bad idea. He should be better than this, but he wasn't.
Things got hazy, but he and Elena were dancing like they were in a club. He got up onto the kitchen island in one agile jump, making her laugh has he ripped off his shirt magic mike style, flinging the torn fabric into the fireplace across the room. She got into the fridge and started eating anything in sight, resorting to just squirting an open can of whipped cream in her mouth. She licked the remnants off her lips, and Damon was completely gone. With an outwardly innocent giggle, she drew small fangs with the whipped cream on the corners of his mouth. Elena Gilbert, pure, angelic Elena Gilbert, then gently traced her tongue along his lower lip, cleaning off her artwork. There was no going back.
"Do you want a snack too?" She was sauntering over to him in the most vapid way, brushing her hair away from her neck. He slid off the counter, completely entranced, all of his willpower to resist gone. Eyes darting from her gorgeous mocha eyes, to her long slender legs and back up to her portrait worthy neck, he licked his lips. The skin around his eyes tightened, veins spidering across his cheekbones, and his fangs protruded through his gums. The tiny rational part in his brain broke through for a second, and he remembered that at least if he fed from her, it would lower her blood alcohol level and pull her back just a bit from the realm of possible alcohol poisoning. He had been even more negligent, letting her bring the party home, and he was pretty sure she drank way too much since arriving at the boarding house already wasted. He was already too far gone, he might as well go completely on the elevator down to hell.
Sinking his fangs into her was the most pure form of ecstasy he had ever experienced. She tasted like sweet orange blossom honey, and the alcohol tainting her blood wasn't helping with his intoxication. If this sent him to hell, he would happily burn forever.
