A/N: Sorry for taking forever to finish this, but it is finished now, and I want to thank everyone again for your amazing reviews! This chapter is short, but it was the only way I could think to end it. Please read and review!

Elena liked to think of herself as rational. Well, she liked to think of herself as someone who was mostly rational and might tend to be affected by what others said, like really affected. When Caroline flippantly asked Elena why she was at the 1950s dance with both Salvatore brothers, making one of her inappropriate Caroline-jokes about a threesome, Elena had felt like she'd swallowed her punch cup whole. And the fragments of plastic were scrapping her insides as she tried to fall asleep that night. The last thing she thought about before closing her eyes was an image of Damon and Stefan climbing inside her window. It was about a week later when she started fantasizing about both of them as she brushed her teeth, secretly hoping Damon would slide in behind them as she showered with Stefan at the boarding house, comparing herself to Katharine whenever she was awake. Damon opening the door with that French phrase flicked this little light on inside her head. It bathed an idea she'd been having in a glow that made her continue with his suggestion, and follow through with the plan. Drinking liquor until she was completely plastered was not part of the plan. Making out with Damon in The Grill wasn't either. The two were kind of connected.

Elena, after getting a good level of tipsy, didn't think slightly drunk was going to cut it once she was groping Damon against the bathroom wall. It wasn't that she felt guilty for doing that with him. The acid reflux-like shame in her stomach was from not being honest about it with Stefan. It made her feel like Katharine. The shots were supposed to kill the guilt, but even when Katharine stormed out of the boarding house, Elena could still feel it in her gut. It wasn't the only thing she could feel in her gut.

"Stefan," she sighed. One of her hands was full of Damon's bicep while the other was clamped around the cloth of Stefan's collar. Both of them were practically plastered to her, not budging in the slightest. She wasn't sure if they were afraid of where this was going, but she knew she wanted it to go as far as possible. And she understood, even with the alcohol coating her insides, she needed to open her eyes and say something sensible.

When she managed to open her eyes, still gasping, legs spread indecently, quivering all over, the first thing she noticed in the dark parlor of the boarding house was the look on Stefan's face. Underneath his expression of concern, she could tell he wanted this too. They all did.

"Stefan," she said. She hesitated to breathe again. From her peripheral vision, she could see Damon wince. She didn't want him thinking he was being ignored, although he might consider it a better option compared with what she wanted to say. "I kissed Damon."

It was almost as if the clouding of lust literally cleared from his pupils. "I know," Stefan whispered. He didn't sound angry.

Damon smirked a little. "Elena, I think he was there."

"No, I mean before, earlier, at The Grill. I…"

"I know," Stefan said.

"But…"

"Running water from a sink and a closed door aren't exactly the best vampire earplugs." He was smiling. "I heard everything, you were nervous…it's okay."

She could almost taste the words before they were on her tongue. "I love him." She bit the inside of her mouth. "I love both of you." She was a few blinks away from crying. "I am so sorry."

Damon's face was blank. "Don't be." The muscle of his arm felt tense in her hand, almost as if he were bracing himself.

Stefan glanced at him. "He's right."

Damon blinked. "Excuse me?" She would have said it if he didn't.

"I don't think you need to be sorry." There was this calm over him that Elena had never seen before, and it was a little unsettling. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this could work."

Elena was speechless, watching Damon's neck practically snap in the direction of his brother. "I'm sorry, but did someone replace you with a wax statue that says awesome things?"

"Seriously," Elena said in a hush. And with one word it wasn't as serious anymore for any of them.

Stefan chuckled, Damon laughed, and she even allowed herself to smile. She watched as Stefan leaned closer to Damon and whisper something in his ear, mutter something only a vampire could hear. Just like a weird game of telephone, Damon dipped closer to her to apparently pass whatever it was along. He was so close, she could feel stubble on her cheek. "Close your eyes."

She focused on the stubble as she could sense being moved faster than she could say anything. Then there were sheets against her mostly bare back.

"Okay," Damon said.

It was hardly a surprise to find she was in Damon's room. She was lying in the middle of his bed, between Damon and Stefan, who were both hovering over her. It felt strangely normal. But, she didn't want to make any assumptions about something like this. With the shred of sobriety lingering in her system, she looked to both of them. "Should we talk about this a little more?"

"Tomorrow," Damon said. It was impulsive, quick, and came with a stroke of his hand down her thigh.

Stefan slowly slid the bra strap from her shoulder, kissing the uncovered section on her skin. "Sounds good to me."

"Okay," she said, gasping.

It was the last thing she heard before the metal noise of the zipper on her skirt. Then it felt like there were more hands than she could count. She loved it, because they were all together, and it felt right. It was finally real.

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