Disclaimer: I do not and never will own The Vampire Diaries, no matter how much I may want to.

Personal: This is my first ever fanfiction, it is not as good as I hoped, but then again, when is it? I really wish my writing was better, but, if you don't like it, tell me, help me improve, please. If anyone even reads this. I can always hope. :#

Chapter One

The sharp thuds his feet emitted on the hard concrete reminded him of the movie "The Birds." He turned his head, wondering if he'd find a bunch of crows coming up from behind him. No such luck. Damon felt like a bit of roughing up.

He was walking, towards some destination he had yet to discover. His feet seemed to know, but, as usual, they didn't let him in on the knowledge. Well, he would find out soon enough.

He was surprised when his walk ended in front of Alaric's apartment. Damon smirked to himself. "Let's see what Ricky-Rick's up to," he said, scratching his jawline. He pounded up the steps, enjoying the feeling of power he got from all the noise-making. He stopped at the teacher's door, knocking. "Ricky-Rick, hellooo," he sang out, rapping with the back of his hand. Slowly, the door creaked open.

"Goddammit, Damon, didn't I tell you not to call me that?" Damon grinned impishly at the form in front of him. Alaric, his tie unknotted around his neck and three of his shirt buttons undone, held a bottle of bourbon in his hand, already half-empty. Damon checked his watch, and tutted.

"Ah, bad Ricky, it's only five in the afternoon!" Damon said, speaking in a patronizing voice. Alaric just gave him a terrific glare, before letting the vampire in. Damon flounced in, dropped himself on the couch with a flourish, and stacked his feet on the coffee table. "You better have more alcohol than that," he said, stretching out on his area.

"Fucking grumble grabble grumble" was all that could be distinguished from Alaric's retort, if you have only human ears that is. Damon just laughed quietly to himself, before downing the last of a bottle he found lying around.

~+~+~ O-O

After seven bottles individually, four wine-coolers, and six beer cans, it was safe to say that both vampire and human were absolutely drunk out of their minds. How else could you explain what happened next?

As Damon reached for yet another can, his movement was impeded by Alaric kind of falling on top of him. "Hey, Ricky, ShmI shman't shee," he said, his lips blocked by the other man's chest. Alaric didn't respond, just clumsily landed his mouth on the squished vampire.

Damon's eyes widened. This was…different. He'd experimented with this sort of thing before. It was the seventies, of course. Everyone was doing it. And, it wasn't exactly all that bad, if a bit sloppy due to the drunkenness. Then again, that happened with the girls he was with all the time. Cautiously, he returned the closed-mouth kiss, kind of enjoying the forceful manliness.

Alaric slipped his tongue out, probing with a needing force against Damon's firm lips. After a small amount of confused time, Damon finally succumbed to the man, opening his lips a fraction of an inch. Turns out, that was all Alaric needed. He stuck his tongue in all the way, feeling around the inside of the vampire's mouth. It tasted sweet, and there was the unmistakable taste of coconut. Funny.

Shortly, it seemed that just kissing would not subdue the teacher. He slowly lifted up Damon's shirt, circling his right nipple with his thumb. Damon let out a slight whimper, feeling his nipple respond accordingly to the motions. Bad, bad tit, he thought, admonishing his body part for some unknown reason. He's Damon, it's allowed.

Alaric slowly started varying the pressure, then moved his other hand to…different places. Damon growled appreciatively, tilting his head back, mouth open. He closed his eyes. He felt as though he was slowly drifting away, toward God knows where. All he knew was he felt suffocated. Unable to breathe, unable to move his arms.

~+~+~ :#

It was early morning, and Damon was walking back from last night's…ordeal. He smiled grimly to himself, wondering what would happen if he just disappeared. Fuck-up Damon, finally leaving this town in peace. Letting Elena and Stefan live in peace, while he searched for his own.

He sighed, running a hand through his soft, black hair. It was sad, when he thought of how no one would actually care if he did leave. He didn't really mean anything to Alaric, he'd just been there when the man needed some company. Physical company. That was all Damon was ever good for. Some sex.

Damon laughed ruefully to himself, shrugging his hands into his pockets. When did he become such a messed up individual? He supposed it started because of his father's low expectations. Dad already told him he'd fuck up, why not rise to the occasion and be a total fuck-up? He licked his lips, a trace of last night still there. He allowed himself to think back on that as he walked up the front steps and opened the door to his house. He was surprised to see who was waiting for him.

"Stefan? Qu'elle suprise, I thought for sure that you would be off with Elena, making musicals, feeding third-world countries by hand, things like that," Damon said with mock-enthusiasm, then smirked.

Stefan just glared at his brother for a second, before sighing. "When will you ever stop joking around?" he asked, an exasperated tone to his voice. Damon sighed as well.

"When will you ever learn that laughter is the greatest medicine?" he responded, pouting his lips. He laughed a bit as he walked towards his own little medicine cabinet, opening up a bottle of pure whiskey with an appreciating moan. If there was anything that could save Damon from drowning, it was alcohol. He took a long, drawn out sip, savoring every last drop he could.

As he pulled his lips back with a satisfying gulp, a small trail of liquid stuck between his mouth and the cup's rim, he grinned. Stefan couldn't help but stare, entranced by the whole spectacle. As he got even more appreciative, he was forced to cross one leg over the other. Damon looked over at his brother, who, in turn, quickly turned his head to the window. Damon just shrugged, filled his cup to the brim, then walked towards the staircase. "I'm going to my room, make sure you don't do anything too hectic while I'm gone," he said, smirking into his glass.

He didn't notice, but once he left, Stefan uncrossed his legs, and quickly hurried to the restroom. He had a bother to get rid of.