Tyler Lockwood opened the door to find himself confronted with whom he thought was soon going to be his new daddy – considering recent events, he was more afraid Damon Salvatore wanted to be his new aunt.

And the way he fluttered his eyelashes totally sold that.

"Hello, Tyler," Damon said sweetly. "Is your uncle at home?"

"One moment." Tyler slammed the door shut just as Damon opened his mouth to protest.

Next to a vase with flowers in the hallway sat a fluffy teddy bear. Mason had enthusiastically tried to gift it to Tyler – another sign that he still did not realise how old Tyler was by now. Tyler flashed the stuffed animal a disgusted glance as he walked past it. Just the attempt to push him back into the childhood, where he had always been waiting for a cool uncle bringing him gifts, deserved revenge. On top of this the whole "where is my moonstone"-thing and not wanting to bring Tyler into the loop annoyed him to the core. Mason totally had to be taught a lesson.

At the end of the corridor Tyler found Mason in his sportswear, ready to go for a jog. Tyler stayed behind the corner and watched his uncle leave through the back door. He smiled maliciously to himself, then returned to the front door.

Damon was waiting impatiently with his arms crossed and one foot tapping on the stairway.

"He just left to jog," Tyler told him. "In his short shorts and a tight muscle shirt." With a wink he brought confusion into Damon's face, but the frown could not cover the obvious desire he felt for Mason Lockwood. Damon would hurry after Mason as soon as the door was closed and annoy him until Mason needed the stupid teddy bear for comfort.

Tyler slammed the door shut and smirked.

The woods on the Lockwood grounds were huge and confusing, but Mason Lockwood seemed to have a destination. It was easy to follow him through the maze of trees, and it would have been as easy to stay in the shadows, but it was funnier to appear seemingly out of nowhere right in front of Mason.

Mason stopped, although not looking shocked. Damon waved at him.

"Hello, surfer boy," he greeted and could not help but take a quick look at Mason's shorts. He knew that Tyler-kid had made a bad joke about their shortness to tease Damon. Apparently, the rumour of a certain kiss spread like weeds in a small town like Mystic Falls.

"Damon." Mason gave him a quick once over. "What're you doing here?"

Damon shrugged. "Taking a little walk. Beautiful weather. The rays of the sun look mesmerising on your hair, by the way."

With a disgusted frown on his forehead, Mason ran a hand through his brown hair. "Thanks," he said and jogged past Damon, obviously trying to ignore him instead of beating him up for this behaviour. Damon was only a little disappointed.

"Hey!" Damon followed Mason, and that even though his jeans were far too expensive to get sweaty or dirty in the woods. "Where are you going?"

"That's none of your business," Mason hissed and sped up, attempting to lose Damon. An evidence that he was adorably stupid and did not realise that Damon was a vampire or something else, despite having not the slightest hint of bruises in his face anymore.

"So, you are going somewhere?" Damon grinned at Mason, who finally slowed down.

"Jogging," he said pointedly. "I'm jogging. I like to do that alone, or at least not with someone in a leather jacket and jeans."

"Oh…" Damon's faked disappointment only made Mason roll his eyes. "We could head back to your mansion and you borrow me some of your short shorts."

Mason's eyes shifted skyward, almost like he was praying for help while taking a deep breath.

"Or you just show me around here," Damon suggested, looking from one tree to another, as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen in his long, long life. "Where did you say you were going?"

"Why did you say you are here?"

"A walk," Damon said very slowly because Mason needed to know how stupid he was. Then he smiled. "My brother, his girlfriend and my history teacher friend are off to Duke University. Researching stuff. That leaves me alone and… bored. Until I remembered my new friend from the carnival." He pointed at Mason, only to receive a forceful scowl.

"Okay, I know what this is about," Mason said, but Damon doubted that he had suddenly discovered a small amount of remaining cerebral matter. "I'm sorry. My reaction to your advances was inappropriate. It's just that I'm not swinging this way and stalking me won't change that."

Damon frowned and felt the strong urge to tell Mason that their kiss had been anything but one-sided – at least for the glimpse of a second. But he only shrugged. "That's cool. Let's just forget about it." He reached out a hand, which was eyed sceptically by Mason.

Eventually, he shook Damon's hand.

"Okay, then… I show you around, yeah?" Mason grinned at him, filled to the brim with naïve stupidity. Damon could not believe that Stefan had made the effort of driving all the way to Duke to get information when it was way easier to regain Mason's trust. It was surely nothing but an excuse to spend the day with Elena and far away from him. The only victim in this was poor Alaric, who had made the mistake of bringing the more or less interesting topic up: lycanthropy.

"Sorry about your face," Mason said as they walked through the piles of fallen leaves. He looked at Damon's profile and finally seemed to get suspicious. "I didn't hurt you bad, apparently."

"No, you fight like a girl," Damon replied in an indifferent tone. He needed to scratch Mason's ego, after his own ego had been smashed because of Stefan's nerving need to burst into laughter whenever his big brother entered the room.

"Thanks," Mason said with a frown. He grabbed the sleeve of Damon's leather jacket and pulled him to the right. "Over here."

The old ruins of a staircase led below the ground. Damon remembered the old estate of the Lockwood family being located here. The cellar must have remained after the building burned to the ground. Mason headed over to the stairs, pulling Damon after him.

"My, that's romantic," Damon snarled when he entered the dark cellar. The distant sound of dripping echoing of cold stone walls enhanced the spooky atmosphere. Behind heavy doors of metal waited a corridor with the personal torture chamber of the Lockwoods. Bars and chains alone were not enough to make Damon feel uncomfortable, but that changed as he noticed the claw trails in the stone walls. Damon gulped.

So, that was the damage a possible werewolf could do. Scratching a stone wall. That was not frightening at all. Especially, when they locked themselves up, and Mason investigated the chains like he wanted to do exactly this. He was a kind-looking nice guy, who was a bit too stupid to be dangerous. Damon could have easily snapped his neck now and eliminate every possible danger, but then he would never learn more about this new supernatural power.

Damon moved to touch the claw trails on the wall. Mason grabbed his wrist, pushed him backwards and slammed him forcefully next to the traces of his ancestors. His elbow pressed against Damon's throat. The strength, the ability of holding Damon in this position, was still impressive. It could have been frightening if Damon had not been able to get rid of the hard, unyielding body with a simple push. Which he did not do.

"What're you up to?" Mason was close enough to annoy Damon with his inhumanly warm breath and body temperature. Turning his head away was not an option, although Damon was of course able to. It was merely impossible to show any sign of submission, so he pretended to be completely unfazed.

"You know something," Mason rasped. "Spit it out, Damon. I want to hear it."

Damon could not resist playing a little game with his fluffy werewolf. "I know that you want me."

Mason's eyes widened, but his grip stayed breathtakingly tight.

"My charm, my eyes, my way of speaking…" Damon smirked. "No one can resist me."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to believe that?"

"I know it must be confusing," Damon said in a soft voice. "But be sure that swinging over to me always assures you the possibility of swinging back again."

Mason frowned and tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure this is what I wanted to hear?" The way his eyes wandered back and forth between Damon's eyes and his mouth made clear that Mason wanted to hear exactly this.

"You can't forget about my soft lips, can you, Mason?"

"You're such a narcissistic bastard," Mason said in a wolfish growl accompanied by that golden shimmer flaring up in his eyes. Damon expected a punch, a scratch with a similar outcome like the claw trails on the wall, or maybe even a bite, but he was completely stunned when Mason kissed him.

Instead of strangling him any longer, Mason framed Damon's face and deepened the kiss unexpectedly sensuously. Damon was hesitant to return the kiss. Mason's body pressed hard against, tightly enough to feel every pulsing vein and the erratic heartbeat, but most temptingly was the boiling blood.

Damon buried his hands in Mason's hair as he kissed back, no longer able to resist the increasing hunger. He pushed his hips forward, strong enough to whirl Mason around and change their positions. Now in full control of their kiss, Damon was able to recklessly devour Mason's mouth. His control over his hunger slowly but surely slipped away, and he was one step away from slamming his fangs in Mason's throat when his phone rang and saved Mason.

Damon pulled away, leaving Mason breathless. The panting noises escaping him sounded even more delicious when they echoed from the high stone walls. The look Mason gave him was something between desire and confusion, and Damon hoped that the only reason for it was their kiss and not the visible hunger in his eyes.

"It's my brother," Damon said after throwing a quick glance on his phone. "I better get out of here."

Mason just stood there, leaning against the wall, and stared after Damon. His heartbeat was faster than Damon's footsteps.

As soon as he left the cellar, Damon answered the phone: "I'm busy, Stefan."

"With Mason Lockwood?"

"Not in the mood for jokes." Damon walked away from the ruins. He did not know if his little werewolf had some sort of super sense of hearing.

Stefan did not sound amused. "Damon, you need to stay away from him."

"Isn't this a big brother phrase?" Damon asked, frowning.

"Listen, it's the full moon tonight –"

"Yeah, I know that. Big revelation of the furry secret waiting for me," Damon interrupted, already annoyed by his younger brother playing his protector. "You can tell Elena that I try to get killed, okay?"

"Easier than you might think," Stefan replied dryly, then sighed in his usual worried way. "Damon, according to the legend, a werewolf bite can kill a vampire."

Damon gulped hard. Footsteps from behind made him turn around instead of answering Stefan. Mason stood near the entrance of the cellar and caught Damon's eyes. The right corner of his mouth curled slightly upwards into a smirk.

"It's time to give up your obsession, Damon. This is too dangerous."

Damon hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He grinned at Mason. "I need to go. Family emergency."

"Sure," Mason said and nodded. "I'll accompany you back."

"Yeah…" Damon turned his back to Mason and rolled his eyes. "Otherwise I might get lost in the woods. Like Little Red Riding Hood."

Tyler watched strangely fascinated how his uncle walked next to Damon Salvatore back to the mansion. It was a weird image by itself, but Tyler could not suppress his curiosity and wondered how weird the image inside that old cellar had been.

Leaving his hiding place behind a group of trees, Tyler headed towards the stairs that led into the cellar. It was dark, and he could barely see his environment, so he pulled out his phone to enlighten his way. It did not help much, but at a closer look he discovered chains. Chains.

"Kinky," Tyler said to himself. He took a picture of this blackmail-worthy hobby and wanted to hurry back home, when he noticed the claw trails on the stone walls.

That was a bit too kinky for humans…