It was a normal Wednesday night for Alaric Saltzman. He had a stack of papers to grade, his TV on in the background, and a bottle of cheap vodka to help him get through it all. Grading papers was the part of teaching he hated the most. Some of the papers were funny and original to be sure, but most were along the lines of "Abraham Lincoln was the best president because he freed the slaves and stopped American from splitting apart. . . ." It was mind numbing to read them all sober. He didn't grade them slobbering drunk, but he did need a buzz going to grade almost the exact same paper forty times. Honestly, the standard of education today. He had remembered it being a lot higher back in his day. And now he was sounding like his grandfather complaining about how easy kids had it today. He was getting old. Damn.
Alaric took another shot of vodka, (he may think like an old man but he refused to drink like one) when he heard a knock on the door. Shit. It was not uncommon for students to drop by and ask for homework help. They joy of living in a small town. Unfortunately he had a reputation as a strait laced teacher to maintain. He couldn't let his students see him like this. Alaric quickly shoved the bottle under the couch cushions.
"Just a minute," he called. Teetering, he got to his feet. Was he this drunk already? Maybe drinking alone at night was not such a good idea. Was he turning into an alcoholic? Possibly. "I'm coming!"
He made it to the door to find not a student wanting homework help, but Damon Salvatore. "What are you doing here?" he asked, holding the door frame to stop him from swaying.
Damon just looked back at him with that annoying, cocky smile on his face. How Alaric hated that smile, so smug, so confident, so sexy it made all the women it was turned on swoon! He needed to get himself a smile like that, and use it on Jenna; maybe they would end up making out for once instead of awkward vampire crap getting between them. Stupid sexy vampires, ruining his chances to get laid. It was a moment before Alaric realized he was staring at his door knob and was in real danger of falling as he imitated the leaning tower of Pisa.
"You reek of Vodka, maybe you should drink alone less," said Damon studying him with an amused expression on his face. Alaric smiled and nearly fell, but managed to grab to door frame in time. What was wrong with him? Damon laughed. "Let's get you to the couch, drunky."
"I'm fine," said Alaric, "My legs just don't work right now, and that's all." He stumbled a little. Maybe taking five shots in fifteen minutes was a bad idea. It was the stupid frat boy in him that was to blame.
Damon pulled Alaric's arm over his shoulders and helped him back to the couch. They we sort of friends; they hated each other of course, but all the times they had gotten drunk and complained about women had really created a bond between them. They still tried to kill each other occasionally but that was to be expected; dirty vampire fucked his evil dead wife!
Damon unceremoniously dumped Alaric on the couch next to his stack of papers.
"So what is in those papers that make them so bad that you can't face them sober?"asked Damon picking one up and examining it. He laughed. "Abraham Lincoln. Did you know I saw him give a speech once?"
Alaric looked interested. "Did you just see him talk or did you actually manage to see a real Lincoln-Douglas debate?"
"Father took us to the one in Freeport to teach me and Stefan about politics. It was an interesting experience, but Stefan was too young to appreciate it and fell asleep, he was eleven at the time. Our father was livid when Lincoln became president, he had voted for Douglas."
Alaric was gob smacked; this annoying, cocky son of a bitch had seen a Lincoln-Douglas debate in person. No fair. "Can you write me a history paper about it someday?" he asked "It would be so much for fun to read than this rubbish."
"For you?" Damon fixed Alaric with a dazzling smile. "Only if I am really bored and have nothing better to do."
That was probably the best he was going to get Alaric sighed slightly disappointed. Damon sat down on the couch and looked at the TV. "I love this show."
Alaric looked over to see someone get horribly murdered with an axe.
He decided not to dwell on how much Damon enjoyed watching a serial killer at work. It was fucked up really. But it suddenly occurred to him that Damon was a valuable historical source that many historians would kill to have access too. A sexy young man who had actually witnessed the civil war and antebellum southern life first hand was sitting on Alaric's couch. What he wouldn't give to be able to compel Damon to tell him all about it in detail. Alaric was a major history buff. "Did you own any slaves?"
Damon looked over at him like he had just asked a stupid question. "My family was a rich land owning family in Virginia before the emancipation proclamation, of course we owned slaves. What we going to do? Pay people to work the land when we could get people to do it for free? Can you really see me working in the fields?" He laughed his evil, sexy, arrogant laugh. Why did everything Damon do seem sexy to him tonight?
Now that he thought about it, he could not see Damon doing any kind of menial labor. He was too pampered and stuck up for that. And his skin was too pale and soft, it was not at all leathery like it would be if he had worked all day long in the sun. Such nice skin, too. Alaric shook his head trying to clear it; Damon's skin was not any nicer than anyone else's that was a stupid thought. "How many did you have?" asked Alaric trying to keep his mind of Damon's soft, pale flesh.
"Five: two women to clean the house and three men to do outdoor stuff. Father took great pride in them. He was really angry when he was forced to free them, but cheered up when he found out he could hire them back as indentured servants. The reason he sent me to fight in the civil war was to protect his right to own slaves. He was furious when I deserted and a came home early, threw out his back chasing me around the property with a ridding crop." Damon said all of this with little real interest, too absorbed in watching the killer stalk his next victim. Alaric wondered for a brief moment how similar Damon's stalking techniques were to the serial killer and then decided he didn't want to know.
It was surprising how casually Damon talked about his past. He was not sure if he found how he talked about owning slaves as if it were normal or the fact that childhood abuse didn't bother him more disturbing. What a messed up life.
Alaric found that information that Damon deserted his post very interesting. He had never pegged Damon as a coward, but he supposed that the killer would make a better mercenary than poorly paid soldier. He was too selfish to sacrifice himself for others. "Why did you desert anyway?"
"I didn't feel like getting shot." Damon grimaced at the thought. "Not to mention, once you have seen a man's leg amputated without anesthetic you feel a lot less loyal to your country and a lot more dedicated to saving your own skin. I try to avoid pain if possible." Damon spotted Alaric's horrified expression. "Bedsides," he added, "what a tragedy it would have been for women kind to lose me at such a young age. If I had died in that war then countless women would never have been satisfied in ways they couldn't even imagine by this sexy piece of real estate." He gestured to himself. "It would have been a great loss, I mean look at this chest, have you ever seen its equal?" Damon lifted up his shirt to show Alaric and Alaric did agree he had a very nice chest and rocking abs. They were almost obscenely perfect. Alaric felt the sudden urge to go to the gym more. He had trouble taking his eyes off of Damon: that skin, those muscles, those eyes and those lips, they were hypnotizing. But it was manly jealousy of course, not actual lust. That would be ridiculous. But if he wasn't lusting after Damon then where did his next question come from?
"Have you ever kissed a guy?" Alaric blurted out before he could stop himself. Shit. Why was he thinking that? Damon's lips were nice, but not, you know, kissable nice.
Damon lowered his shirt and looked at Alaric in surprise. "You are drunk." It was a statement of fact.
Alaric flushed. He should have backed off the point but he didn't. He blamed this next outburst on the vodka. "Well have you?"
Damon leaned back thoughtfully. "Yeah, once, but I was trying to kill my father at the time."
This answer did nothing but confuse Alaric further. He must have misheard him. "How would making out with a guy help you kill someone?"
Damon gave him a mischievous grin. "It was one of my more cunning plans."
When he did not go on Alaric got impatient. He was not sure if he wanted to hear the story because it involved Damon kissing another guy, or if it was because he really wanted to find out how kissing could be harmful to a third party, but he really wanted to know.
"Well you have to tell me now," said Alaric matter-of-factly. "Telling someone that you did something like that and not elaborating makes you a tease."
Damon flashed his winning smile at Alaric. "Maybe I like being a tease?"
Alaric put on his best puppy dog face, the one that used to work on Isobel. In fact it had never failed him yet. "Please?" he asked in what he hopped in what was a cute voice. Why he was acting cute around Damon was beyond him.
"Fine," said Damon in mock defeat before taking a swig of vodka he had found in the couch. "This stuff is crap by the way. And the story is kind of stupid, so it's not my fault if you find it disappointing.
"I want to hear it anyway," replied Alaric.
"My dad had been having heart troubles and the doctor had told him not to get over excited or his heart might give out. Well I wanted the bastard dead. I would get his estates and me and Stefan would finally be free of his tyranny. The only problem was I was already a terrible disgrace to the family, and could not think of something to upset him that I had not already done. I mean I had brought hookers home with me, hit on respectable ladies, and raised all sorts of hell. The only two things I had left to me were hosting an orgy or going against nature and exploring the world of man. Unfortunately at the time I did not have enough money on me to pay enough whores for a proper orgy. I went with plan B.
"Every town had a gay hooker, even if no one ever talked about it. That is something the usually leave out of your history books. Anyway, we had Sally, Sally spent most of her time dressed as a women so the men who went to her could pretend that she was a women. I needed a man. I paid Sally a handsome sum to turn up at my house one dressed as a man, with a decent layer of manly stubble, and have some fun with me. I did not tell her what I was planning to do but she was excited and willing, as all whores are. He had never been invited to someone's home before.
"Sally was confused when I told him to take off his shirt in the main hall, but he did as he was told and soon we were getting hot and heavy. As I had planned, it was not before my father came down stairs for lunch. When the old buzzard saw me half-naked and wrapped around a man, he promptly clutched his chest and fell down the stairs. I thought it had worked; a heart attack and broken bones! But the old bastard clung to life as hard as he could. I think the thought of stopping his abomination of a son inherit the estate kept him going. Father changed his will so Stefan inherited everything, whipped me till I was raw, and pretended it never happened." Damon sighed, "But it was totally worth it to see the look on his face, and he let me bring home as many women as I wanted after that."
"Wow, and I thought I had a messed up relationship with my dad," Alaric said in awe.
"It's why I'm such a slut; I am just looking for someone to love me like my daddy never did." Damon picked up the bottle of vodka and took a swig, suddenly somber. "You are the first person I told that story to. Stefan had no idea I caused our father's heart attack."
Alaric was silent for a while. He wondered if Damon had been dying to tell someone about his dad for decades as he was being uncharacteristically open; this unnerved Alaric. He was used to the cool, collected, and closed off Damon. This new Damon was, not venerable, as he could still kill you before you even knew what was happening, but not as invincible. Alaric could not explain it. He had a strong urge to hug the man but he resisted.
"So why were you so curious about whether I had kissed a guy or not?" Damon asked teasingly. "Do you have any secret homoerotic fantasies you have been keeping secret?"
Alaric blushed and looked away. Damon looked delighted. Why had the conversation suddenly turned to his personal life? He wanted to hear more about Damon's. "Oh come on, what are you thinking? Could it be you do have these naughty fantasies? Are they about me by any chance?"
To tell the truth Alaric's brain was in complete disarray. Maybe drinking alone with Damon was a bad idea after all. I mean he had wondered about kissing a guy, yes, but that was natural curiosity. You wondered about a lot of things, like what space was like, or what it felt like to be set on fire, but that didn't mean he actually wanted to be set on fire one day.
Damon was getting closer to him, those big blue eyes boring into his as if they were trying to read his mind. Such pretty blue eyes, a guy could get lost in those. Stupid vodka making him horny and think about the only other person in the room in that way. Yes, it was all the vodka's fault! That evil and vile drink! He just really admired Damon's body, his cat-like grace, his long legs, his nicely shaped arms . . . .
"You fantasize about me, don't you?" Damon interrupted Alaric's straying thoughts.
Alaric started. "No, no, of course not," replied Alaric flustered. "Um," he groped around for a question. "What was it like?" Fuck, what a terrible question. "I mean compared to kissing a girl," he added quickly. Shit, why did the room feel so hot all of a sudden, and why did his face have to burn like that. No good would come of this! Alaric swore he would never drink again. He scooted a little away from Damon on the couch.
Damon studied him thoughtfully, seeming to enjoy the discomfort that Alaric was in. He considered his response carefully before answering. "Well, it is a little scratchier, the stubble is kind of itchy, not a big fan of it, and the lack of breasts is disappointing, but you get that with some really flat chested girls, but overall it wasn't too bad. Not much different than kissing a girl, but then again Sally spent his life working to be more like a girl, so kissing a manly man may be different." Damon scooted a little closer to Alaric. Alaric did not like this intrusion to his personal bubble. "Now why would you want to know what it's like?"
Alaric scooted a little further away. "Just curious," he tried to reply nonchalantly but his voice was higher than usual and Damon was moving closer to him again. He could not help get the feeling that he was now a mouse a Damon was a giant cat who had decided to play with him for a bit. It didn't help that he was now hyper aware of everywhere Damon was touching him. Where their thighs were lightly touching was filled with a tingling fire Alaric couldn't ignore. That was new. Actually if Alaric was honest with himself, then it was not a new feeling, he was always hyper aware where Damon touched him, but it had been easier to ignore it before. I mean, no other guys made him notice when they touched him, just Damon. It wasn't like he was gay. This was so confusing, not to mention embarrassing, especially since Damon was known to tease people, a lot. He would never live this down. He wished he could disappear. "Oh, kill me now," he moaned in despair.
Damon froze. "Oh, not literally kill me now," Alaric said quickly his eye wide with fear. "Just joking like, hide me under a rock or kill me now, hehe." His laugh died as he saw the cold look in Damon's eyes. "Please don't kill me," he squeaked. Because he really wanted to seem more like a defenseless animal. Shit.
Damon looked at him hungrily for a second, then the cocky smile was back in place and he laughed. "I'm not going to kill you, besides if I did, your ring would just bring you back."
Alaric looked over at his hand just to check the ring was safely in place and felt a small wave of relief; he was in not real danger at least. Damon followed his gaze. "But I could always take it off."
Alaric instinctively closed his hand. "I'd prefer to keep it on, thanks."
He looked back into Damon's eyes. Jesus, did the man ever blink? He needed to blink soon, those eyes were hypnotic. He was becoming hyper aware as if all the nerves in is body had just woken up and it had to be Damon's doing. Where was some vervain when he needed it? Oh right, in his other pair of pants. Shit.
"So how long have you been curious about men, and are you curious about all men, or just me?" Damon asked slowly positioning himself on top of Alaric, straddling him, his thighs lightly touching Alaric's hips, cutting off any means of escape. He was very catlike in the way he moved now, and the way he was looking at Alaric was unsettling. Hunger mixed playful curiosity, underlined with the dangerous predator that always lurked just beneath the surface. Tentatively Alaric reached down and put his hand on Damon's thigh. Damon did not object. Isobel used to pin him to the couch as a means of foreplay like this back when they were married, maybe Damon was doing the same thing.
"You didn't answer my question," said Damon almost dangerously as he slid one of his hands into Alaric's free one and laced their fingers together.
"Just you," said Alaric quietly, not sure where this was going, but feel excitement being to build in him. Damon seemed like he might be okay with this. Maybe he would want . . . .
Damon slowly lowered his head to Alaric's ear. "So what do you want to do about it?" he asked, his lips barely brushing Alaric's skin sending tremors though Alaric's body.
Alaric threw caution to the wind. He did not know if he would have another chance like this again. "I want you to kiss me," he whispered back.
Damon sat up and slid a hand under Alaric's shirt, slowly caressing his abs in a strange way that made Alaric think he was feeling for his pulse.
"But want if I want to do more than just kissing?" Damon's eyes lingered on Alaric's neck. "You see, I have been wondering what you taste like for quite some time. You are one of the few people in town I have been really curious about, but have yet to sample." He trailed off and the unasked question hung in the air between them. Alaric was desperate for Damon to touch him, kiss him, and run his hands all over him. He felt he was at the point of no return. He was this close to getting what he had secretly wanted so badly for such a long time. What was a little blood loss compared to getting to scratch the itch he had been ignoring for a long time?
"Fine," Alaric agreed breathless and a little terrified, "as long as you take of your shirt you can do whatever you want to me."
"Okay," Damon replied, smilingly sinisterly, "but I do like to play with my food, just so you know." Alaric gulped. He was sure he wanted this to happen, but that did not quiet the voice in him that screamed at him to run away.
"Don't worry," said Damon soothingly stroking his hair, "I can make it pleasurable for you too." And he started to unbutton his shirt.
It seemed to take Damon eons to take that damn navy button down shirt off. Alaric watched breathless with anticipation as he slowly undid one button at a time, laboriously slid it off his arms, and dropped it on to the floor. It was almost obscene how much Alaric wanted to reach out and touch his cold pale skin.
"Now it isn't fair if only one of us is shirtless," said Damon before quickly pulling Alaric's shirt over his head, and tossing it aside. The sudden rush of cold air over his skin gave him goose bumps. Damon sat there for a while just looking at him.
Alaric lost what was left of his patience. He was feeling reckless. Now that he had decided to give into his secret desire, he could not bear to put it off any longer. He was not going to sit there and wait for Damon to tease him for another few hours before giving him what he wanted. He was going to take it!
Alaric reached up, grabbed Damon's face between his hands, pulled him close and kissed him hard. Within moments he was exploring the inside of Damon's mouth with vigor he had not felt in a long time. Damon's mouth was unusually cool and tasted faintly coppery, but Alaric was not bothered by the abnormalities. There was so much of Damon he wanted to taste, to explore, to feel, to kiss . . .
Any restraint or fear that Alaric felt vanished as he pushed Damon over so he was on top and ground down into him with his hips. They kissed each other hungrily. They were so many new places for his hands to caress. The fact that Damon was a man and a vampire made the whole thing new and exciting. Instead of the soft, warm, yielding skin he was used to feeling under his palms, he felt cold, hard muscles that flexed whenever Damon moved. He knew that soon, the now quiescent predator would rear up and strike and he would be helpless, but for now he was calling the shots and he relished in the control he felt, even if it was an illusion. Damon probably wanted him to think he was allowed to whatever he wanted. It would probably make the moment when the tables were turned even sweeter for the vampire.
Alaric, who wanted to gain some real control, decided to see if he could bring out the monster in Damon before Damon was ready to let it out. It was stupid, he knew, but the idea of making Damon lose control, even for a moment was too good to ignore.
He angled Damon's head to be at a better angle and when he went in for his next kiss, he caressed one of Damon's fangs with his tongue. Damon let out a small groan that filled Alaric with a strange high. He tried again, paying more attention to the counters and the gums surrounding those two particularly deadly teeth. He actually felt Damon twitch a little under him that time. When he tried again, he had trouble keeping on top of a squirming Damon and felt the fangs elongate under his tongue.
Next Alaric sucked on one of the fangs that hand elongated after all the teasing, his lips carefully reaching out to one of the white daggers in Damon's mouth, surrounding them in an awkward, but pleasurable kiss.
Damon nearly bucked him off. Alaric's hands held Damon's biceps in a death grip to avoid falling and looked down at him. Catching his breath he saw the once bright blue eyes were now red rimmed with black. They stared at each other for a moment, Damon looking up at Alaric with his hands on the human's waist and sitting up, still holding Damon's biceps.
"Rick?" Damon said quietly. Alaric realized his mouth was filling with a strange coppery taste. He had cut his lip on one of Damon's fangs and not noticed it.
With a growl Damon pounced. Alaric found himself slammed to the ground with Damon on top of him, kissing him savagely. He ran his hands all over Damon's body, knowing that Damon was on the verge of losing control and killing him filled him with an insane ecstasy. They kissed with increasing fervor, and when Alaric tried to some up for air, Damon held him down. He began to get light headed trying to gasp for air between the assaults on his mouth. He did not seem to be getting enough oxygen through his nose. When he was on the brink of blacking out Damon moved down to his jaw line leaving him panting for air.
The combination of nips and kisses Damon was planting as me moved down Alaric's body, while surprisingly gentle, sent shivers down his spine. Every nerve was alert turning the lightest touch in waves of toe curling pleasure. The first time he felt fangs scrape across his skin he had to fight to keep still, and looked over to see Damon, his eyes their normal intense blue again, licking a thin trail of blood off his chest. He tried to reach down and bring Damon's face back to his, but Damon just held his wrists in a vice like grip and continued what he was doing.
The nips were gentle and the fangs drawing blood didn't hurt much, but the judicious lick that came after was something else. Alaric knew Damon would bite him soon. He franticly awaited the moment when fangs would sink into his neck and he would be slowly drained of life. When would it happen? When would all this teasing stop and the main event start. Every muscle in his body was tense in anticipation.
When Damon had made it down to his belt line and paused, Alaric thought it surely meant he was about to become dinner, but Damon just moved back up his chest after studying him for a while. His eyes were no longer red and murderous, but blue with an evil glint that made Alaric wonder if this is how he played with all his food, or just him.
After a while Alaric tried to move his hands again, but Damon just pinned them to the floor and began to circle a nipple with his mouth sending all sorts of new sensations through Alaric's body. Alaric felt light headed. He had lost track of time but felt like Damon had been doing this for hours. Alaric had endured thousands of new, tingly sensations that left him feeling light headed and weak. His nerves were fried. It was almost torture; he did not think he could take much more of being teased like this. The sharp pain as fangs pierced his skin followed by an intense sure of pleasure, as Damon did things with mouth Alaric had never imagined, was becoming unbearable. This contrast of pleasure and pain was a pattern that had been followed again, and again, and again who knew how many times all over Alaric's chest.
Also, he did not know if this was a vampire tick, but he seemed to be becoming extra sensitive to every touch. Where Damon gripped his wrists hurt ten times more than it did before, but the slight brush of Damon's lips against his wrist caused him to shiver with pleasure as he seemed to feel the individual molecules move past each other. This vampire was messing with his mind, the fucking sadist.
Alaric was currently hyper away of the way Damon was gently running his lips over one of Alaric's wrists, planning to bite it soon. The soft touch of those slightly damn lips and the rush of air and he breathed in deep, filling his nose with Alaric's scent caused Alaric's toes to curl in enjoyment and his heart to beat painfully fast in his chest. Even though he was expecting the bite, Alaric still gasped when Damon finally brought his fangs roughly across him wrist. This bite was deeper than the other places but still not deep enough to let more than a trickle of blood out. Damon licked it up leisurely, as if he were enjoying a fine meal and savoring every drop. The sensation of his tongue against Alaric's broken, burning skin like that was the last straw.
"For fuck's sake Damon, just bite me and get it over with," he rasped as his exhausted nerves sent yet more pleasure signals back to his fried brain. He could not take another round of pain and pleasure; he was surprised he had not started short circuiting.
Damon smiled at him as his licked the blood off his lips. "All you had to do was ask." Faster than lightning, he pinned Alaric's hands over his head. "And you will thank me later, what I am about to do to you feels better than sex, or so I have been told by the many lovely ladies I have done this to." He lowered his head down to Alaric's neck, nuzzling him gently.
"Nothing is better than sex," Alaric whispered in exhausted disbelief.
He gasped in pain as the sharp fangs violently sliced into his skin, but a wave of pure ecstasy washed over him and the world around him faded away.
When Alaric came to, he was still lying on the couch shirtless. His head felt as if someone had filled it with cotton and the room was taking a long time to come back into focus. For some reason he didn't care. He noticed a dark shape sitting at the other end of the couch, drinking strait from a bottle and watching the television, and it took him a moment to realize it was Damon. He felt drugged in the best possible way. Not a care in the world, and left with nothing but the half-remembered feeling of intense pleasure that he almost thought was a dream. He felt so relaxed, this couch was so comfy and the air around him was pleasantly cool. He drifted back off to sleep with the rumble if the seemingly distant TV as a lullaby.
Next time he woke up, he felt like he was waking up properly. No fuzzy room, no drugged feeling, but he did still feel completely relaxed. He almost didn't want to get up. Unfortunately it was Thursday. Yay, school!
Slowly he sat up, wincing as his stiff neck protested the movement, and looked down at his sore, bare chest to find it was covered in bruises and little flecks of dried blood. His wrist was in a similar condition. Dimly he wondered where Damon had got to. Was Damon the kind of guy to be gone the next morning, out the door before anyone else was awake? As if to answer his question, he heard the sound of someone getting out plates in the kitchen and the smell of fried eggs found his nose.
Slowly, as he got a severe head rush and dizzy spell, he got up and went to find a clock. It was seven thirty. Shit!
He had to leave for school in half an hour and he still had all those papers to grade. Fuck. He needed to shower. There was no time! In his haste he turned around and stubbed his toe painfully on a bookshelf. "Fuck!" he swore loudly hopping up and down on one foot.
Damon walked in with a dish towel over his shoulder. "Morning," he said cheerfully. "Do you usually curse first thing in the morning?"
"School, late, papers need to be graded, need shower, no time," he said through gritted teach. His toe was excruciatingly painful, probably a side affect of his nerves being made extra sensitive last night.
"Relax," said Damon calmly. "I graded your papers for you last night. Go take a shower while I finish your breakfast. Trust me you do not want to skip breakfast this morning; I took a lot of blood from you last night. Thank you, by the way." He turned to go back to the kitchen but paused. Alaric waited. "And I don't provide the breakfast service for everyone I feed on, so don't go spreading it around."
Alaric nodded and Damon walked away. What made him so special, he wondered as he walked off to take that much needed shower. It would be a stupid idea to teach his class still covered in blood, especially as one of his students was a vampire. He would have to figure out a way to cover his wrist.
When Alaric got out of the shower, dressed, and walked back to the kitchen, Damon had gone, leaving a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes next to a cup of coffee on the table for him. There was also a brand new bottle of iron supplements that Alaric certainly didn't buy too. This oddly caring gesture from Damon was something Alaric would never have expected. Then again he did give up a lot of blood last night. He deserved a little gratitude.
Maybe he would invite Damon over some time. He still didn't know why he had come last night, but that didn't seem important at the moment. The eggs were too delicious.