Disclaimer: No, I do not own The Vampire Diaries, nor any of it's affiliates. Although, it would be nice if I could own Ian Somerhalder, seeing as he is on my list of "People I would have in a harem." XD
Author's Note: I'm very grateful to the four people who reviewed my first chapter! I suddenly had the urge to yell, "They like me, they really like me!" It made me feel all jumpy and warm inside, as firewing pegasus would know. Hope I didn't creep you out with the PM! XD
Also…I'm afraid no one will like what happens in this next chapter. Sadly, I have a feeling there will be no Stamon sex today. Perhaps, next chapter? Or near in the future? *crosses fingers*
Warnings: This contains adult content and has therefore been named MA, seeing as there will be sex soon. Also, loads of gay romance abound and, obviously, cussing. So, if you would not like to see two guys together in a beautiful little love…thingie, please, please move on and don't read this.
Chapter Two
The day was cloudy, threatening, and dangerous. Exactly how Damon liked it. Sure, warmth from the sun was nice, it made you feel all mushy inside. But the windy, wet weather? Now that was a beauty. It gave you a sense of remorse, showed you that the weather could cry as well. It made you feel accepted, and helped you embrace the fact that you were alone.
Damon sighed to himself. Now, when had he ever referred to the weather as a feeling individual? He lifted his pants' waistband, checking. "Nope, don't have a period," he said to himself, before releasing the pants and downing yet another whiskey. The best thing to do during such a day as this was to sit back in bed, reading old histories. Or, as Damon called them, Stefan's diaries. He smirked to himself as he read his brother's work, most of them complaints about the vampire reading it. And what was this little quip supposed to mean?
Sometimes, I just wanna jump him and give it to him, but then my heart beats so fast as I imagine it that I have to leave the room immediately.
Damon pondered over that sentence. "Well, if he wants to best me up, he might as well try, if only to make his entries a bit more entertaining to read," he said, mulling the thought over as he refilled his cup, this time with blood.
He kept perusing, sipping at odd moments, until he came upon an entry that put him at a standstill, his cup crashing to the ground.
It's not that bad, I guess, since he's not even really my brother.
Damon kept staring, unable to take his eyes away from those glaring words. He took a breath, slow and haggard though it was. "What…the...fuck?" The last word was whispered so quietly, you could only hear the "k" sound.
There was no way…Stefan had to be lying. He had to! Deeming only one way that could possibly help him find out, Damon ran to Stefan's bedroom, tore out his human diaries, and sat upon the floor, searching.
It took a while, since Stefan liked to write SO much about the most inconsequential things, so much so that Damon almost ran to the high school and dropped his probable brother's ass. Finally, Damon reached a page that seemed promising.
I overheard Mother and Father arguing about something. I heard Damon's name, so I stayed, wondering what he did wrong this time.
At this, Damon snarled, throwing out cuss words and threats.
I crept closer, as quietly as I could. Then I heard them:
Mother: "You need to stop being so tough on Damon. He is only a child, and never did anything wrong, until your blatant hatred of him made him think he was a terrible ne'er-do-well on the road to becoming a Satanist!"
Father: "That little bastard is a free-loader! He just rubs me the wrong way. Just looking at him makes me want to bash his ears in!"
Mother: -Gasps- "How could you? We took him in when he was just a baby, I nursed him just as I nursed our own child! You would dare to say that after what that child's father did for you? Did for all of us?"
It was here that I gasped, unable to process this information. Unfortunately, my parents overheard me, and immediately set about looking for the culprit. I, of course, ran for my life to my room, where I am now writing this. Could it be true? Is Damon really not my brother? If so, then...maybe my feelings towards him aren't as unforgivable as I once thought.
Damon sat back in a daze, unable to move, unable to even blink. His head rest against his broth- no, Stefan's bookshelf, staring up at the rotating fan. Maybe if he stared long enough, it would mesmerize him into forgetting what he just read.
Damon's thoughts were interrupted by Stefan entering his room. The other vampire glanced at his prostrate brother, then did a double-take, noticing his journals askew about the ground. "Damon, what the hell are you doing reading my journals?" Stefan yelled, stomping up to the dude. He prayed to all the deities that Damon hadn't read the stuff about him.
Damon slowly turned his blue orbs towards Stefan's, his breath coming out in little spurts. "Is it true?" he whispered, his lips trembling.
Stefan stopped picking up his journals. He shuffled them in his hands uncomfortably. "Um…is what true?" he asked, knowing there were many secrets kept in his sacred tomes.
"Is…it…true," Damon said, more forcefully this time. He turned his head completely, his whole body facing Stefan. "Am I a bastard child? Are we not related?" he cursed to himself as he felt a bit of liquid creep into the corner of his eye. Now was not the time to be crying.
Stefan stared at Damon, unsure of how to respond. He'd kept this little secret away from Damon for his own protection. It may have been selfish, but he wanted a reason to live with the other vampire, and being related was perfect.
"Fucking tell me," Damon spit, grinding his teeth together to keep himself from falling apart.
Tucking his head in, Stefan sighed. "You…you're not a bastard. Your father and mother were prominent people, my parents' neighbors. They helped my father considerably when he needed it most. They left you to my parents' care in their will if they ever died. A vampire killed their entire family, leaving just you."
During this whole process, Damon stared, numb, unable to even show emotion. When Stefan ended, though, it seemed that his reserve was smashed. Fast, hot tears cascaded out of his eyes, racing each other to the finish line. He couldn't even feel shame for this, all he felt was utter hopelessness. Now he knew why Father had hated him. He wasn't even the child's father, and yet he'd had to take care of Damon the same way he took care of Stefan. Of course he would come to hate Damon.
Stefan tentatively reached a hand up to wipe away a few tears. "Damon…I'm so sorry. I should have told you, it's just…I didn't want you to feel any more pain than you already do. Can…" at this he stopped, and knew he couldn't ask for forgiveness. He just stared hopelessly at Damon, wishing fervently that he could do something. He hated feeling inadequate.
Damon stared at Stefan, then looked to the hand resting upon his cheek. He tried to pull himself together, wiping away most of the tears. He cleared his throat, though a trace of emotion was still lurking in his voice. "I'm…gonna go. Somewhere." He quickly sat up, racing towards the front door.
"No, Damon!" Stefan cried out, running after Damon. He lost the man, though, and had to return to their house. He decided to wait in the living room, just in case Damon came back.
~+~+~ ;
Damon ran as fast as he could, as long as he could. He briefly felt the feeling of running across water, but he quickly left that feeling behind. All he could do was keep running.
Finally, after it seemed as though his lungs would burst, he stopped, startling a crowd of people. He caught his breath, leaning against a brick wall, his mouth open as his head was tilted back. He felt a déjà vu, his mind returning to the day he'd been with Alaric. It felt so long ago.
A pretty girl who looked to be about twenty-seven walked up to him, her eyes flirting. "My, you sure have been running hard. Want something to help you settle down?" she asked, and Damon realised that she had a British accent. Shit, he'd run across the fucking Atlantic!
Realising that the little beauty was waiting for an answer, he slowly nodded. "Yeah, I could use some blood right now," he said, and just stared sadly at the confusion in the girl's eyes. "Everything's gonna be fine. Now, just follow me, and let me drink some of your blood," he said, his heart breaking as she obeyed him.
As they went behind an alleyway, he drew in a tragic breath, his eyes almost letting some tears escape. "All right," he whispered, moving the girl's long brunette hair away from her neck, "I'm not going to kill you. I just need enough to set me straight," he said, and bit as gently down on her neck as possible, giving into his vampire instincts once he tasted her blood. The girl gasped in surprise, unable to move.
Damon's eyes were squeezed shut, but he couldn't help the lone tear that escaped him, which gently fell upon the girl's shoulder, mixing with her blood, until you couldn't tell one apart from the other.
~+~+~ D:
The door to the Salvatore house creaked open, alerting the once sleeping Stefan. His head turned towards it, where he saw Damon slowly shuffling in. The vampire turned to Stefan, a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth. Stefan took it in stride. "Where'd you go?" he asked, standing up.
"England. Then some parts of France, Italy, Japan. Finally, I came back here," Damon responded, his eyes rather glazed over. There was no way of telling if he had turned his feelings off again or not.
Stefan hesitantly walked over to Damon, lifting a hand to rest it on Damon's cheek. He studied the man's eyes, wondering. "No, I didn't turn my emotions off," Damon answered the unspoken question, sighing.
Stefan let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been keeping in. "Well…do you want anything? Is there something I can do?" he asked, stroking Damon's cheek with his thumb. Damon stared at Stefan, confused.
"Why are you treating me like this? Like I'm a girl or something? Like I'm…Elena?" he asked, unable to get the similarity out of his head.
Stefan bit his lip, wondering if Damon could handle any more news. "Um…I'm just worried about you. You know, even if we're not related by blood, I still care," he coughed, before continuing with his sentence. "If you really need it, you can, like, sleep with me tonight. For comfort!" he quickly added, as a weirded-out look came across Damon's face.
"Uh, I'm fine, thanks," Damon said, racing to his liquor cabinet. "Besides, I shoulda known it before. I never did look like our parents anyway. Hey, this means I'm not related to you!" Damon said, masking his expression with a grin. "Guess I don't have to live with that anymore, huh?" he asked, making a joke out of things as usual.
Stefan grit his teeth, then backed Damon against a wall. "Goddammit, would you stop acting as if this didn't mean anything to you?" he growled, his body dangerously close.
Damon looked at Stefan, confused. "Um, what the fuck are you doing?" he asked, then looked down at Stefan's raging hard-on. "Your boner's digging into my hip."
Stefan blushed, but still kept his stance. "Damon, I love you. All right? I freaking love you. I care about you more than anything, more than Katherine, more than Elena. Hell, the only reason I got with them was to see if I could make you jealous!"
Damon stared incredulously at the person who used to be his brother. He opened his mouth, but words just couldn't escape. Wordlessly, he grabbed the whole bottle of whiskey, then ran upstairs to his sanctuary.
Stefan punched the wall. "Fuck!" he cried, squinting as he watched his wound heal almost automatically. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, before yet again walking to his bathroom. Yet another weasel needed to be whacked.
Author's Note: Oh, fuck, I hope you guys don't hate me for this if you like incest. I just…thought this was better. It was what I envisioned when I came up with it, so I went with it. Please, please don't hate me for this! DX
Oh, and I hope everyone realised my obscure little analogy. No, Stefan is not literally whacking some poor weasels. He is going to yet again masturbate.
