You've built your wall so high that no one could climb it

by Tarafina

"I don't want to wake up twenty, fifty, a hundred years from now, reaching across an empty bed, wishing you were there, because I was too much of a coward to fight for what I want…"

Title: You've built your wall so high that no one could climb it (But I'm gonna try)
Category: The Vampire Diaries
Genre: Romance/Drama
Ship: Stefan/Caroline
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: 8,690
Summary: "I don't want to wake up twenty, fifty, a hundred years from now, reaching across an empty bed, wishing you were there, because I was too much of a coward to fight for what I want…"

You've built your wall so high that no one could climb it (But I'm gonna try)
1/1

So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it
The way you held me so tight
All through the night
'Til it was near morning

"We're not having this conversation..."

He sighed, frowning at her, and tugged the sleeves of his shirts up his arms in a sign that he was about to get stubborn.

Caroline ignored him, standing from her seat and making her way over to where the collection of liquor bottles were always at the ready. Salvation! She unscrewed one and poured herself another glass.

"So when are we going to talk about it?"

She shook her head shortly. "There's nothing to talk about." She cast a grin over her shoulder at him, dismissive and bright, untouched by the subject. "It happened, it's over, and that's that."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's that?" He shook his head. "We don't bring it up again?"

"What's wrong with a little healthy suppression, huh?" Her brows hiked. "I think psychology got it wrong. Sometimes you just need to completely forget something."

His lips pursed. "It's that easy for you?"

"We were drunk." She laughed shortly and turned her eyes back to her glass. She forced herself to sound nonchalant as she added, "I don't see what the big deal is. I barely remember that night."

He was behind her in a second, the words barely out of her mouth before his fingers were on her hips, squeezing. She blamed it on the fire when she felt heat roll under her skin; it couldn't be the way he pressed against her, his body flat, hard, and warm. One of his hands slid around to press against her stomach, fingers splayed, while the other reached up to brush her hair to one side, revealing her neck to him. She could feel his breath play over her skin, tickling the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.

"You weren't that drunk, Caroline... You have to remember some of it."

"No." Her eyes fell. "None of it. It's a blur, forgettable, it was—"

His lips pressed against the crook of her neck, warm and smooth. He kissed a path, up up up, and lightly bit her earlobe before ducking his head once more. "You don't remember me doing this?" His fingers found the sleeve of her shirt and pulled it down and out of the way, revealing the rest of her shoulder for him to nuzzle. He licked and nibbled and kissed his way across her bare skin, his teeth toying with her bra strap.

"I don't. I—" Her breath caught as his other hand slid under her shirt, the tips of his fingers skating over her stomach and delving beneath the waist of her jeans, tracing the top of her underwear teasingly.

Part of her wanted to run, wanted to step out of his embrace and tell him she was completely unmoved by it, he wasn't affecting her at all. Another part just wanted to lean back against him, encourage his hand further into her jeans, and succumb. But then she remembered where she was, she remembered who it was that was touching her, and she knew that couldn't happen. It shouldn't have happened the first time. And yes, fine, she remembered every single second of it. It would be a lot easier if she couldn't, but she did, and she knew that what happened that night couldn't happen again. Because sex was one thing, sex was a release, it didn't always include emotions or feelings, but what they'd been doing, what he was doing right now, that was a prequel to making love, and they weren't allowed to do that. That wasn't part of who they were to each other. That was a chapter of their book that was not supposed to be written.

Which was why she'd spent the last three weeks trying to pretend like everything was fine, it was normal, they were totally okay. No weirdness, no talking about it, no in-depth analysis of what it meant. It was just swept under the carpet, filed under 'Whoops' and forgotten. Only he wasn't forgetting, he wasn't following her lead, and he definitely wasn't willing to let it just be a one-off.

Caroline would have chalked that up to her prowess in the bedroom and given herself a pat on the back except that his not going along provided a very big problem. He was stubborn and he seemed to be dead-set on proving her wrong about what had happened, what would happen, and where they were going.

She knew where it would head if she explored things. Heartbreak central, population: her. As per usual. And this was one friendship she wasn't going to ruin by getting herself get too 'Caroline' about it. She fell in love fast and hard and if she honestly let herself think too deeply about her feelings for him, she already knew they were perilously close to falling into the category of 'madly in love', so she was doing all the backpedaling she could to keep herself from falling any further.

Of course, having his fingers slide into her underwear while his other easily unsnapped her bra wasn't helping things.

She moved forward, hit the liquor table, cursed, and then sped out of reach. She had to catch her bra as it came loose and reach behind her to do it back up as she glared at him from the other side of the room.

Sighing, he put his hands on his hips and turned to face her, his head cocked. When he went to step forward, she wagged a finger. "No! You stay over there! Where I can keep an eye on you."

His lips twitched with amusement. "Caroline, this is getting ridiculous. Can we just talk about it?"

"That— That was not talking," she reminded, pointing to where she had been standing. "That was fondling and— and distracting."

He licked his lips, hiding his grin.

"It's not funny!"

He shook his head. "You're right. I'm sorry." He held his hands up in surrender and apology. "I'll keep them to myself. I just want to talk."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, okay," she muttered sarcastically.

"Seriously." He stepped back and made his way back over to the couch, taking a seat in the corner. He raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the armchair beseechingly.

She chewed her lip uncertainly but finally moved over to take it. "I propose we don't talk about it," she told him when she sat down. "Any of it. We just... move on."

"Why are you so reluctant to try this?" he wondered, sitting forward, trying to catch her eyes as she cast them away, pointedly staring at the fire.

"Because!" she cried. "All I see is everything that's going to go wrong, everybody who will be hurt, and yes, okay, maybe it feels good in the moment, but long term...?" She shook her head. "We are going to be alive a long time and frankly, I'd rather have my best friend there than another ex-boyfriend added to my already long list of screw-ups."

"How do you know any of that will happen? How do you know it'll go wrong or we'll break up? What if we aren't something you'll regret?"

She swallowed tightly and turned to look at him, her face drawn. "What did you say to me, at that party back when we first met?"

His jaw ticked and he sat back, shaking his head. "That was a long time ago."

"You said 'you and me, it's never going to happen.'"

"We were different people. The situation was different. We didn't know each other yet, not the way we do now," he argued, his voice clearly frustrated.

"You were here for Elena, you fell in love with Elena..." She stared at him searchingly. "The person you want, what you're looking for, that's not me."

"I know what I want." He met her eyes seriously. "Look, Elena and I are... We're over. She's with Damon. She's happy with him, and I... I moved on. I let go."

She laughed shortly, dismissively, and turned her eyes up.

"Caroline, you've been with me, beside me, for how many years now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know... Eight."

"And Elena and I have been over for five of those."

"And she can still get your attention with a snap of her fingers!"

He licked his lips. "She's my friend. I care about her. I want her to be okay. I won't leave her to get hurt just because we broke up."

"She will always come first in your life, and I'm sorry, but I've spent too much of my life coming second." She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, and rubbed her hands over her face quickly. "I love Elena, she's one of my best friends, but I won't do it anymore."

"You wouldn't be second."

"Stefan, just stop." Suddenly feeling exhausted, she looked at him, her shoulders slumped. "Stop."

He ground his teeth and dropped his eyes to stare at the floor.

"You're my friend, my best friend," she told him. "But if I let myself, I'll fall in love with you..." Her lips trembled as her voice rose in pitch with her emotions. "And then I'll have no one to pick me up and put me back together after."

He closed his eyes.

She stood from her chair, deciding she'd had enough of talking for one night. She moved to leave, pausing only when he called her name.

"What if I'm already there? What if I've been there for a while?"

She stared at the back of his head, a tear dribbling down her cheek. She thought of Elena, of the way Stefan looked at her, at how hard he had tried to get her to realize it was him, he was who she really wanted. Even after the sire bond was broken, after she was sure that her feelings for Damon were real, were stronger than what she felt for Stefan. He still hoped, for so long, that she would realize he was better for her. Five years they'd been over, but Caroline was still just as sure that Stefan Salvatore would always love Elena Gilbert, and she refused to be the idiot who thought she could shift his feelings to her.

"You haven't," she told him. "And you won't."

Without waiting for a reply, she left, hurrying up the round driveway of the boarding house, hugging her arms around her as her tears fell freely. She could have used her vampire speed; it would have taken her mere seconds to be back home, curled in her bed, crying in a pillow. But the cool air felt good, it made her tears freeze and dry faster. It made the outside feel as empty as the inside. And maybe, even if she'd never admit it, a part of her hoped he would come after her and change her mind.

The farther down the street she walked, the more she felt an empty ache in her chest. What would happen now? Would he stop pushing? Would he let their friendship go back to what it was? Would he forget all about their one night together? Chalk it up to a drunken mistake like she'd pleaded with him to do.

As much as she'd pushed for just that, she wasn't sure she wanted it. What if he did forget? What if, tomorrow, he acted like they were okay? Like nothing had happened, nothing had changed; they were just Stefan and Caroline again. Best friends until the end of time, or at least until one of them was staked. That would be better though, wouldn't it? Because she'd have him. Not in the way she wanted, not in the way she craved, but to have him at all was what mattered. She couldn't be the girl on the sidelines again. She'd come too far, done too much, pulled herself up out of the depths of second-best and told herself she'd never go back. So she wouldn't. Not for Stefan, not for any man. Caroline deserved the best; she wouldn't settle for anything less.

As she walked down the road, she let her eyes fall closed. She let the cool air meet her damp cheeks, shivering when the wet streaks of her tears made her skin cold. She'd been warm for a while. Not like a fresh cup of coffee kept her body at normal human temperatures warm, but she'd felt fire sing in her blood. She missed that. She missed what it felt like to have him, even for one night. It would have to be enough.

The memory flooded her, wrapping around her like a well-loved quilt, and she let it. All she would have was her memory from here on out; she might as well enjoy it.

Caroline was drunk, and dancing. It mostly consisted of jumping, her arms above her head, and shaking her hips. She was off-beat, she knew but didn't care. She felt good. Great, even. Another successful ending to a shitty week. They were alive! Everybody who mattered to her was alive. And wasn't that kind of depressing? That the highlight of each day was only that they managed to survive. Maybe. But it had been so long since she could call her life normal that it didn't hit her as hard as it could have.

Stefan was laughing. At her, with her, somewhere in between. He was drunk too, but he hid it better than her. Tonight, he was in a good mood. In fact, he had been for months now. His usual brooding wasn't an all-encompassing dark cloud that followed him. He was more lighthearted than she'd seen him in years. It had nothing to do with the whack job werewolf they'd put down. Actually, she didn't know what brought on this happier Stefan, but she was glad for it.

It meant their drinking party wasn't going to turn into a pity fest. And, okay, so their 'party' really only consisted of the two of them, but she wasn't really complaining. Bonnie was finally getting a little TLC thanks to her hot, hot witchy boyfriend, and Damon had taken Elena out on the town. So Caroline and Stefan had gone back to the boarding house to celebrate their win with a few bottles of Damon's finest.

"Hey!" Caroline turned abruptly to face him. "We missed the movie! They were playing Taxi Driver tonight." She stuck her lip out in a pout. "Stupid werewolves."

He grinned at her, ducking his head as he chuckled under his breath. "It's a classic, I'm sure they'll play it again."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but it was going to be a 'thing'!" She dragged her feet as she walked over to sit on the couch beside him, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Is it just me or does it seem like every time something good is happening, we have to deal with the next supernatural villain out to maim and murder?"

He raised his glass in cheers to her declaration.

Caroline stole it and took a long sip. "Mm." She handed it back and sat upright. "We should have a sleepover!"

He blinked over at her. "You spend five nights out of the week here already. I don't think calling it a sleepover changes anything."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Come on, Stefan! Bonnie and Elena are out with their boyfriends. I want to do something fun."

"You seemed to be having a lot of fun dancing a minute ago."

"I almost fell in the fire twice," she admitted.

He bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh at her.

"Shut up!" she said, slapping his shoulder even as she laughed at herself.

"Okay, okay." He held his hand up in surrender. "What do you want to do on this sleepover?"

She tipped her head thoughtfully before brightening and telling him, "Junk food and movies and more alcohol."

"I think you've had enough alcohol."

She scoffed and stole his drink again, standing from the couch. "I'm not as drunk as you think I am. I'm just... happy."

He stared at her, not quite convinced.

"Really!" She nodded at him. "Don't you feel happy? One more bad guy gone and Mystic Falls is safe again... for a little while anyway."

"I'm not sure if that's encouraging or not..." His brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"No!" She hurried toward him, her finger waving in his face. "None of that!"

He smiled, staring up at her, his brow cocked.

"No broody Stefan. No 'what is life' and 'why do bad things keep happening?'" She shook her head. "This is a happy time and we are going to be happy people... vampires... whatever."

"I am happy," he assured.

Her eyes narrowed skeptically.

Chuckling quietly, he reached for her hand, fingers curling around her wrist, and tugged on her.

Already off balance, Caroline abruptly fell forward and, with a little maneuvering on his part, found herself in his lap. She giggled, her head falling back.

He watched her, smiling to himself.

When she raised her head, she stared at him a long moment. "You look happy," she admitted.

Reaching up, he brushed her hair off her cheek. "I'm with you."

"I am great company..." she joked.

His fingers followed the slope of her neck and Caroline sobered, swallowing tightly as he stroked down to her collarbones. She looked down, her eyes searching his face, but he was staring at the progress his fingers were making. She felt his other hand flex on her hip, his thumb rubbing circles over her side.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Stefan was handsome; she'd recognized that the moment she set eyes on him. It was something she'd had to make a conscious effort to distance herself from during their friendship. It was okay to recognize that a friend was good looking, but spending too much time thinking of the lines of his jaw was probably a bad idea. Here, now, however, it was hard not to take in the arch of his cheeks, the length of his eyelashes, the curl of his lips...

This was a dangerous path, she knew. Because once upon a time, Stefan had been her ideal man. In fact, if she thought about it, he still was. But they were friends, best friends, and he... He would always be in love with Elena. So she couldn't let herself become attached. She couldn't-

His lips were on her shoulder.

He'd dragged the sleeve of her shirt down and pressed a kiss to her bare skin. And he kept kissing, bringing her closer until she was leaned against his chest, while his lips made a path up her neck. He paused behind her ear and nuzzled the shell.

Caroline closed her eyes, a tiny breath leaving her as she reached for him, gripping the front of his shirt.

His fingers found her chin, tipped it down, and turned her to face him. She could feel his breath on her lips, warm and even. And her resolve cracked; the foundation of an argument to stay platonic became unsteady.

She opened her eyes slowly and stared into warm green eyes. He met her gaze intensely, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek.

"This is a bad idea," she murmured, even as her eyes fell to his lips.

"Mm-mm." He shook his head faintly. "I think it's one of our best."

She wanted to laugh, to smile, but all she could focus on was the heat stirring inside her, the desire and want, the flood of feelings that were pushing against a damn she'd erected years ago. "Stefan—"

He kissed her; firmly. Just their lips pressed together, their noses lightly grazing, and then he touched his forehead to hers. He cupped his hand around her neck and he parted his mouth, suckling her bottom lip between his, biting down gently. His breath mingled with hers as he traced her lips with his tongue, nibbling the edges, and her good intentions faltered. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn't. It felt so good... It felt right. Letting out a sigh, she kissed him back, sliding her hand up to his face as she slanted her mouth across his, meeting his lips, his tongue, his teeth with just as much intensity as him.

Slow and gentle were discarded as desire hit them hard. She turned in his lap, shifting her legs so she was straddling him, resting chest to chest. His hands found their way up her shirt, stroking, kneading. Panting, she wrenched her mouth from his and buried her face in his neck, kissing and nipping as her hands fell to his shirt, pulling and tugging the fabric up his body, needing to feel his skin. She groaned when she found his undershirt and scratched her nails over it in irritation.

He chuckled lowly and took the end of her shirt in his hands, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it elsewhere.

"No fair," she complained, even as her head fell back and she moaned.

His lips passed down her chest, his teeth and lips teasing the soft flesh of her breasts, nipping along the edges of her bra. She shrugged, letting the straps slip down her shoulders, and reached behind her to get at the clasp. He batted her hands away and stood up abruptly, dropping her feet to the floor.

She stood in front of him, her knees shaking, her head spinning with confusion.

He tossed his shirt away before reaching for her. Taking her by her hips, he pulled her forward. Unbuttoning her jeans, he tugged them down her legs, letting them fall in a heap at her feet.

"Not that I'm complaining, but the clothing ratio here is way off..." she murmured, steadying herself with her hands on his forearms as she tried to kick her jeans free.

His fingers curled around the edges of her underwear and her heart was suddenly in her throat, a swooping sensation in her belly.

"Stefan..."

He cast a grin up at her and shifted forward on the couch. His hands slid around, gripping the backs of her thighs, fitting comfortably in the curves of her ass. She swallowed tightly, her voice caught, and watched as he bent his head forward and kissed her. Over the fabric of her underwear, just a firm press of his lips before he tilted his head up and took the fabric into his teeth and pulled them down. She physically shook, her brows arching. His thumbs reached up, curling around the sides, and helped him. And then he was kissing her again, his lips finding the top of her slit. Her breath left her in a rush, stuttering as his tongue parted her, dabbing against her clit.

She buried a hand in his hair, tangling it in her fingers.

Stefan shoved her underwear down to her ankles and lifted one of her legs, hitching it over his shoulder as buried his mouth further against her, suckling and nibbling her, his teeth and tongue teasing her sensitive folds. He raised his arm, her thigh balanced on his bicep, and slid his hand up her side, rubbing his knuckles over her ribs, where he knew she was ticklish. She cried out, rocking against him. He chuckled, the vibrations against her clit making her bite her lip, her eyes rolling back in her head. She gripped his hair tighter, tugging on it, but he merely tugged on her clit with his teeth.

Grunting, she felt her orgasm nearly consume her; it was so close, just at the fringes of her reach. And then his fingers were sliding inside her, curling, rubbing, but slow, so slow, and she shook her head in frustration.

"Stefan, please," she begged, stretching her fingers down his neck, grabbing the back of his undershirt, twisting it in her grip. "Please."

He leaned his head back, giving her one long lick.

She squeezed her eyes shut. No, that wasn't what she wanted. She needed him to go faster, deeper.

"Look at me."

Panting, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer, trying to tell him, without words, to finish what he started.

"Caroline, look at me," he ordered.

Slowly, she let her eyes open and turned her head down to see him. His mouth was wet with her, his eyes dark, not with hunger, at least not for blood, but with lust, desire, want for her. He was panting, smirking at her, and he licked his lips.

"Watch me."

She swallowed tightly and nodded ever so slightly.

He pressed his mouth to her again, his eyes never leaving hers, and teased his tongue over her clit.

Her mouth fell open in a silent cry.

His fingers pumped inside her, picking up speed, and she kept her eyes on him, even as her stomach tightened, her chest ached, and she longed to just throw her head back and shout until she echoed through the house. She watched him, how his eyes darkened, his brow knotted, his jaw worked. She could see his enjoyment, the pleasure he got out of tasting her, and it made her wetter, made her clench around his fingers as they thrust inside her.

And then he scraped his teeth over her clit and she felt it, hard and fast, rushing over so completely she nearly lost her balance. Her nails dug into his neck, deep enough that she felt blood against her fingers. Her whole body shook with it, pleasure ricocheting through her bones and over her skin, twisting up every part of her and releasing it in waves.

He was still licking her, his tongue lightly lapping at her folds. He'd let her leg down, though they were useless; he was holding her up, his hands back around her thighs. As her chin dropped back to her chest, she watched him as he took his mouth from her and kissed her hip, her stomach, nuzzling his nose against her bellybutton. Her fingers dragged through his hair affectionately, tracing around his ears, stroking down his neck.

He rested his cheek against her stomach for a moment, his thumbs stroking back and forth over her legs. It was nice, content, and easy. It didn't feel awkward, it felt comfortable. It felt like they'd been doing this for longer than they had been; like they were long-time lovers and not trying their hand at something previously forbidden.

And then he was standing; he kissed her neck, the underside of her jaw, and finally her lips, deep and long, licking into her mouth, sharing the taste of herself with her. Her arms wrapped around him, hands fitting around the back of his shoulders. He picked her up by her thighs, lifting her until her legs were wrapped around his waist. In a flash, they had left the familiarity of the living room, of the crackling fire they often sat and talked beside.

His bedroom door snapped shut behind them in the same second he laid her back on his bed. She stared up at him, lifting to her elbows. He reached behind him and pulled his undershirt up and over his head, tossing it away. As he reached for his pants, she pushed up to her knees and replaced his hands with her own, undoing the button and the zipper before she slid her hand inside to cup him over the fabric of his boxer-briefs. He was hard and thick in her palm; she shivered, biting her lip. He shoved his pants away before he reached around her, found the clasp of her bra and flicked it open. His knuckles dragged over her shoulders and down her arms as he took the straps and pulled her bra down. She dropped her hand from him and watched his eyes fall to her chest.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up off the bed a few inches, carrying her as he climbed on, kneeling on the mattress in front of her. She brushed her fingers back through his hair, tightening her grip as he ducked his head down and kissed her shoulder, his mouth trailing a path between her breasts. He reached out and took her by one of her knees, drawing her leg around him, her other leg following suit, as he leaned her back against the bed, his mouth wrapping around the pebbled pink nipple of her right breast, his teeth plucking it.

He was heavy on top of her, solid and firm from head to toe. She combed her fingers down to his neck and spread her hands down his shoulders. Her thighs squeezed him encouragingly as he pressed wet kisses down her body, lightly nipping her skin. He shifted his hips forward and, despite the barrier of the fabric, he pressed against her deliciously, the friction against her clit making her head fall back, neck arched. His mouth crawled back up her body, teasing her neck, his teeth scraping her chin, before finally he met her lips once more. He was still rubbing himself against her, slow and steady, and her hands fell to his waist, fingers digging in around the edges of his boxer-briefs, tugging. He reached down to help her and finally she felt all of him, hard and warm and pressed against all of her.

Her breathing came quickly and she stared up at him, her brow furrowed. For just a second, uncertainty settled in. What were they doing? This was Stefan! Her best friend, her confidant, her vampire mentor. They weren't supposed to do this. This was a one-way ticket to Awkwardsville and there was a no returns policy.

But then his hand found hers and he knit their fingers, he raised it up and pressed a kiss to her wrist and down, down her forearm. He pressed her hand back to the bed and his mouth slanted over hers. He wasn't confused. He wasn't questioning this. And his resolve, his certainty, was what melted hers. She gave herself over to the feelings, to the heat between them. She let her toes curl and her hips arch as he slid a hand between them, stroking his fingers down her slit, teasing her, before he pressed the head of his cock against her.

She didn't close her eyes; like before, like when he told her, she kept her eyes on his as he slid inside her, filling her, stretching her. Her breath caught until he buried to the hilt, and then it left her on a gasp. She squeezed around him, every thick, hard inch, and then she reached a hand around to his hip and pushed, silently asking him to move. She wanted to feel, she wanted to get lost in it.

He grinned at her, his lips curling at the corners, and then he was biting her bottom lip, not enough to break the skin, but a sharp stab that was gone as quickly as it came. She focused, her every sense sharp, and then he was moving. He was rolling his hips back, drawing out of her, only to snap forward and bury himself in her again. It wasn't slow and gentle, though she knew he had it in him, he'd already shown her plenty of that. It was hard and fast and it fed that needy ache inside her. She parted her legs further, planting her heels on the mattress, and met each pump of his hips. He never slowed, burying his face at her neck and kissing down her chest.

He knew exactly when she was about to come, his fingers delved down and rubbed circles around her clit, and twisted his hips so he was grinding into her. She climaxed on a silent scream, her nails scraping across his lower back. She lay panting, her whole body limp with it, shockwaves of pleasure echoing throughout her limbs. He wasn't inside of her, she could feel the emptiness, and opened her eyes to see him kneeling between her legs, still hard, still ready.

His hand found her stomach, fingers spread wide, and his head ducked, lips smoothing down her inner thigh, still shaking. She both wanted and didn't want him to slide lower, to let his tongue delve between the lips of pussy and lick her to another orgasm. But then his hands were behind her knees and he was pressing her legs back, quickly and easily turning her over so she was laid out in front of him on her stomach. Confused at first, she lifted herself up onto her elbows, but then his hands were smoothing down her back, his thumbs pressing along either side of her spine, and it felt so good that she stopped, laying back down to let him continue.

He made a fist on one side, four of his knuckles sliding up to her shoulders, and she smiled. Apparently Stefan was an expert massager; she wasn't even surprised. She could almost forget the fact that she was naked, and so was he, when he slid both hands over one shoulder, one after the other, loosening up the tensed muscles before he started sliding them down the outer side of her shoulder blade. He teased his fingers back up and kneaded the nape of her neck before he repeated the process to her opposite shoulder. Letting out a soft sight, she relaxed against the bed.

His hands slid down her side, gently rubbing the heels of his palms against her as he went, until he reached her hip. He stroked his knuckles down either cheek of her ass before laying them palm flat against the back of her thighs. That low heat stirred inside her as his fingers moved firmly down her legs, teasing the inside of her thighs, rasping over the backs of her knees. She bit her lip the higher up he reached, the weight of his hand close but not quite pressed against her slit. She let him tease her for a few minutes before she huffed out his name.

He chuckled and bent to bite her left butt cheek, an affectionate nip, that made her reach back and swat at him. He kissed up her back then, his lips so light she thought it might just be his breath skittering over her. As he reached her shoulder, he brushed her hair to one side and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. At the same time, his fingers slid inside her, one at first, thrusting shallowly, but a second joined as he kissed up behind her ear.

Caroline lifted her hips, her legs spreading, knees digging into the bed. One of his hands found hers, his fingers curling into the spaces between hers, and it felt somehow more intimate than anything else they were doing. It sparked something in her chest that made her heart thud and flip. And then the fingers inside her were replaced with him and she let out a heavy sigh, coherent thought spiraling out of reach. He felt so good. He slid his hand under her, spread over her stomach, and lifted her, holding her up as he kept a steady pace. She pressed her chest down against the bed for balance and his fingers slid lower, catching her clit between two of them and pinching lightly. She grunted, twisting her hips, and he sunk into her harder.

She was surprised at how quickly she was ready to come and shook her head; she wanted to taste it and at the same time wanted to prolong it. She didn't want it to end, because as soon as it did, things would have to go back to how they were. She would have to remember Elena and Stefan's lingering feelings for her. She would have to gather up her clothes and her dignity and pretend everything was fine, nothing had changed, and they were still the same as ever. And she didn't want that, not yet. She wanted to be carefree and happy and enjoy every second of this. But it was Stefan and he knew exactly what he was doing.

He bit her seconds before she came, his teeth sinking through her skin, making her cry out, delirious with the pain and pleasure of it. It was overwhelming, sending her over the edge until all she could feel was blinding euphoria from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair, spreading everywhere. And he was shouting her name, she could hear it distantly, echoing in his room as he joined her, his hand squeezing hers so tightly he nearly broke her fingers.

When they slumped back to the bed, she was panting. He rolled over onto his back to lay next to her, his hand on his heaving chest as he tried to catch his breath. She couldn't move. She was almost completely sure that her bones had turned to jelly. She laid there for a long time, just trying to feel her toes again.

She felt the bed move as he shifted and she suddenly tensed. He brushed her hair back and kissed her shoulder, soft and sweet. Even with her wobbly knees, it probably would've been smarter to get up, gather up her clothes, go home and pretend the whole thing was a drunk dream. But it felt good, his fingers stroking up and down her back, his lips on her arm. It felt good when they laid back in his bed and tucked the sheet around them. And it especially felt good when he wrapped an arm around her waist and spooned her as he fell asleep, his face buried at her shoulder.

But Caroline only slept a little while, waking up before the sun had even risen. 'Good' was relative when she knew how quickly it could evaporate. She slid out from his arms and left his bed, standing uncertainly for a moment, staring down at him as he slept, a furrow forming at his brow. She wanted to reach out and smooth it away; to see happy, non-broody Stefan again. Instead, she turned and fled, racing downstairs to gather up her clothes, putting them on in record time before she left his house and made her way home.

Her bed was cold, the sheets chilled her skin as she slid between them. She never felt more lonely than she did when she turned over and reached out, finding no one there even as she could still smell Stefan's cologne on her skin, still feel him between her legs. She closed her eyes and told herself to forget it. It wouldn't happen again and, come tomorrow, it would already be a memory.

And it was a memory. A good memory. One of her best if she completely ignored the crippling sense of regret she got when she woke up. Not that she'd done it, not really; but that she'd had him and now she had to let him go. A rush of new tears filled her eyes and she shook her head, swallowing tightly. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"Stop, stop, stop," she chanted, fisting her hands. She was done crying over men, wasn't she? Done wishing for things that only hurt her in the end. Done.

Shaking her head, she gave a huff and decided that walking was not doing it for her. She wanted to be home; she wanted comfy pajamas and a tub of ice cream. She wanted romantic comedies she could roll her eyes at and her mother to hold her as she cried. She sped away, too fast for any regular human to see, and found herself home in just seconds. There. Much better. She went inside, kicking her shoes off at the door, and made a bee-line for the kitchen fridge. There was a tub of rocky road tucked in the back corner of the freezer; she grabbed it and the largest spoon she could find before she walked down the hall to her bedroom. She had the lid off and was filling her mouth with a heaping bite when she walked into her room.

Her brow furrowed when she found the lights already on, but it only lasted a second when she saw a familiar figure lying atop her bed, legs crossed at his ankle, hands stacked one on top of the other. His eyes were closed and his breathing steady, enough that she might have thought he was sleeping.

For a moment, she considered just backing up and leaving. Maybe he hadn't heard her entrance. She could leave, go to the Grill, take some time to herself. She didn't expect him to do this, to have another blow-out after the other one was so fresh. But… maybe he was taking her seriously. Maybe this was him telling her he agreed, he would stop, he would let it go.

She wasn't sure she wanted to hear that either and she found herself taking a step back.

"If you run, this'll be the second time you leave me alone in a bed instead of talking to me… Is that going to be our thing now?"

She stared at his face as he opened his eyes and turned to look at her, his lips set in a firm line.

"We talked…" She waved her spoon at him. "Not so long ago, remember?"

"You talked, I listened, and then when I tried to talk, you decided you had enough…" he argued before sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed. "You know, if I remember correctly, relationships usually work better when two people are involved in the decision making process."

"Friendship," she corrected. "This is a friendship, not—not a relationship." Crossing her arms, she shifted her feet awkwardly, and told him, "There's a difference."

He smiled, a faint curling of his lips on one side, but it wasn't the smile she was used to seeing. With a sigh, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands hanging down, and he looked up at her, his head tipped. "What did I do when I wanted to be with Elena? When Damon was sniffing around, getting in her head, making her doubt us?"

Her brow furrowed. "You… You fought for her. You reminded her why she loved you and not him… That you guys wanted the same things and she was happy with you."

"And that worked, right? For a while…"

She nodded.

"But see, the problem with that is that I can't be the only one fighting…" He threw his hands up and pushed himself back so he was sitting up straight. "Elena didn't fight for me like I did her. Some part of her wanted Damon more than me…" He shrugged dismissively. "And that's fine. She loves him, they're happy, and I get that. I'm not coming between them anymore."

She let out a heavy sigh and, after putting her tub of ice cream and spoon on her dresser, she walked further into her room. "It's not fine. You spent years fighting for her. And Damon?" She made a grossed out, choking noise before arching an eyebrow and shaking her head. "Really? Who would want Damon when they can have you?"

He smiled faintly. "It doesn't matter. I… I stopped fighting for Elena a long time ago." He stared up at her searchingly. "Caroline, I don't want to be with Elena. I don't want to spend my life fighting my brother for her attention. I don't want to have a few months or years here or there before she changes her mind and goes back, and she will. She always does." He shrugged. "But I don't have to be a part of that. I don't have to perpetuate that cycle. So I stopped. I stopped fighting. And suddenly there wasn't a push and pull anymore. It was just them, together, and I was me again." He held his hands up and half-smiled. "It took me a while, but I figured out how to be on my own. To not be that crux keeping Elena up or my brother from teetering over the edge."

She nodded slowly, admitting that, yes, he had come a long way from how it was originally. He and his brother were on better terms now that they weren't both fighting each other for any scrap of Elena's attention and love. Truth be told, Stefan had detached himself a lot from Elena, keeping her as a friend, but at a distance. From where Caroline was standing though, she thought it was only a waiting game. And with a somewhat immortal life, time was all they had.

"You remember when we went on a road trip last year?"

She smiled, ducking her head. It was just weeks of driving, no real destination in sight, nothing but a map and a sharpie and a full tank of gas. She remembered how it felt, like freedom was finally at their fingertips, and they were chasing it for all they were worth. It was the best time she'd had in years.

"You remind me what it's like to live."

Her brow furrowed as she raised her eyes to meet his.

He stared at her sincerely, gently. "It's so easy to get caught up in everything that happens here. All of this supernatural, magical crap that just keeps invading our lives… Weekly, daily sometimes. It's easy to forget about actually living and just spend your time waiting for the next problem. But you made me remember what it's like to be alive. To go away and take time to enjoy the world, to stop waiting for the next headache and take charge of my own life. I… I admire you, Caroline. Because when you want something, you go for it. You don't let anything stand in your way. You're stronger than ever before, and it's not because you're a vampire. It's your heart and that love and hope you have inside you that just… It lights you up."

He shook his head, pushing from the bed. "I'm done doing things that only hurt me in the end. I'm done fighting for people who don't really want me, or who might want someone else more... I want you to know everything, I want you to have all the facts before you make your decision…" He reached for her, cupping her cheeks. "I don't love Elena; I haven't for a long time now. I don't know how else to prove that to you except to tell you that I'm willing to fight for you. I'll fight every day for you. But only if you fight for me too, only if you want this…" His thumb stroked down to the corner of her mouth, his eyes falling to gaze at her lips, brow furrowing tightly. "I know you don't believe me, and maybe it'll take a while to convince you, show you, but I love you… Caroline, I'm in love with you. I love our friendship, I need it in my life, but it's not all I want… I want more."

Her lips trembled as she stared up at him, looking so earnest, so sincere, and she felt her heart swoop and cartwheel. "I try really hard. Really, really hard to be strong. I try not to do things that I know will end with me heartbroken. And you… You are the biggest risk. Not just because of Elena, but because our friendship is the most stable thing in my life, ever, and I don't want to lose that, not for anything… So if I do this, I have to be sure… And you have to be sure. Not that you love me, because love can be strong one minute and completely gone the next. But you have to be sure that it's worth it. That the risk is worth the reward…"

He bent forward, until his forehead met hers, and he nodded, making her do the same. "I don't want to wake up twenty, fifty, a hundred years from now, reaching across an empty bed, wishing you were there, because I was too much of a coward to fight for what I want… I would rather know that I tried, that we were the best we could ever be, than watch you love someone else knowing it could have been me."

She shook her head, blinking back tears. "How do you know? How do you know we'll work?"

He smiled. "Eight years, Care. Eight years you've been my best friend, the only thing that made sense when nothing else did. When I lost my memory, you were the only one I trusted, the only one I knew I could turn to. When I struggle with that other side of me, when the Ripper wants out, I know that I only have to call you, I just have to hear your voice, and everything will be okay… So yeah, I can see us a hundred, a thousand years from now, and we're together… You are the only constant in my life that I will never regret."

Swallowing tightly, she reached for him, her hands twisting the fabric of his shirt up under her fingers. "I do love you. And I told myself I shouldn't, but I didn't stop… And I want this, I'll fight for this, but just remember, you asked for that." She cast her eyes up and stared at him seriously. "When I fight for something, I plan to win, I'm the most stubborn, hard-headed person you will ever meet. So be sure, because when I do this, I'm all in. A hundred-and-ten percent of Caroline Forbes, completely and totally dedicated to making this work in whatever capacity we want it to."

He grinned, good humor and happiness spreading over his face. "That's all I want."

She slid her hands up his chest, fingers splayed apart, and slid them behind his neck, nails lightly scratching his skin. "Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation? This is where you kiss the girl and we live happily ever after…"

He chuckled low under his breath and tucked a hand under her chin, tipping her head back. "Haven't you heard? I've been happy for months… I was just waiting for you to catch up."

She bit her lip, but failed to suppress her smile.

His gaze fell to her mouth for just a split-second before his lips slanted over hers, his hands burying in her hair and drawing her closer. She stretched up on her tip-toes and pressed herself against him, sighing at the solid foundation they built then and there. For a long time now, Stefan had been her support, her constant, and maybe she chose not to see how they danced around something more these last few years and even more so over the months leading up to this moment. Hadn't she just been thinking he was happy? Happier than she'd seen him in years, and she didn't know why. Well, now she did.

They stumbled back toward her bed and she laughed as they fell against the mattress. They were completely sober and there would be no confusion, no excuses in the morning. When she woke, she wouldn't sneak away or try to pretend she didn't remember how it had happened or why. She would turn over and curl up against his side and he would wrap his arm around her and bury his face in her hair, kissing her temple. They'd share the newspaper in the morning over a pot of coffee and leave the house hand-in-hand, meeting whatever it had to throw at them head-on. Maybe it would be a rarely seen day off, no magical menace to interrupt, or maybe they'd be thrown into chaos like most other days, she wasn't sure. But she did know that they would deal with it together. They would fight together. And she wouldn't regret one second of it, not for anything.

[End.]