He had tried his best to be the dutiful boyfriend and be there while Elena held her brother's hand and listened to his complaining and whining like it was actually something she was interested in. He had tried, really, and he had managed to be in character for like almost thirty full seconds. No one could accuse him of not trying. But he knew that asking the boy did you really think at any point in your pathetic existence that you could keep her? Or even opting for a more tactful it was about time wouldn't have been appreciated so he waited for them to be distracted and ducked out.
Only to find Bonnie and Stefan way too close for his tastes, and so focused on each other as to ignore his presence altogether.
He saw his brother's hand closing around her arm, just above her elbow, at his not-really-a-suggestion to be the one to take her home, like he was actually defending his territory and his stomach made a strange twist.
He must be the first vampire with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
"I insist," he says, almost gritting his teeth, because he does not want to know what might happen if he doesn't put the right distance between them; because, he might let Stefan humor himself with any other girl but Judgy.
"I wanted to talk to her, anyway," he adds, trying to give him a reason to let her arm go.
Stefan's hand slips away from her, reluctantly so, Damon supposes, if the curt way he sinks his fists into the pocket of his jeans is any indication of his disposition.
The expression on the youngest Salvatore's face changes from sour to courteous in a second as his eyes move from his brother to Bonnie, "Please, call me when you get home."
"Or if I don't," she giggles, knowing he wants to make sure Damon doesn't bother her. But she isn't worried about that, at all, and she walks out of the room and to the front door ignoring the looks the two brothers exchange behind her.
The fresh air hits her face and she remembers one of those stay safe talks when a consultant explained to them that fresh air and movement increases the circulation causing the alcohol to enter the system more rapidly.
She's unsteady on her legs and her knees almost give out when Damon walks by her, bumping her arm on his way.
"Come on," he says, sitting in the driver's seat, "Get in the car."
Bonnie does as she's told but she doesn't bother doing it at a human speed, in fact her body is far too relaxed to waste all the effort and the money spent tonight just so that Damon can have it his way.
She sits in the seat next to his, trying to find the most comfortable position as she rubs herself against the leather like a lazy cat.
Under her heavy lashes she can see him glaring in her direction and she smiles.
"Your belt," he says.
"It's very pretty, isn't it?" she asks, giggling. Really, it took her an eternity to get into the car. She's not going to sweat just because he's suddenly decided to be the poster boy for the 5 to Drive Campaign. The fresh air made her feel less sleepy for ten seconds and now she's back at square one. And square one is such a nice, cozy place that she has no intention of leaving it.
Bonnie can hear him protesting but it's just a white noise that does not bother her current, blissful state.
Damon leans into her, reaching out over her shoulder to take the seat belt and a sound comes out from the back of her throat, something like a satisfied moan. He never knew she was capable to make such a sound, and he's so surprised that his eyes lower to her lips on their own. They're plump and have a soft, pinkish shade about them.
Way too many things are coming into focus tonight, things he never noticed before. This one could go to the top of the list, if he wasn't so sure it really means nothing. Ten minutes ago he was the happy boyfriend of the pretty object of all his obsessions and now he's staring down at Bonnie Bennett's lips.
When she feels like opening her eyes Bonnie finds him very close and smelling good. His eyes are snapping up to her own and she's sure there's something there, inside the dark, haunting blue of his eyes, but he glares away and she hears the clicking sound of the three-points safety belt, and it's lost.
"So," he begins, his fingers tightening around the wheel for a moment, "What were you doing with my brother?" His voice is so tense, even if she can't see the reason.
"Drinking," she says, brushing away the hair from her forehead with lazy fingers that hesitate against her skin, "Reading," she adds, remembering his fingertips grazing the paper, and the curve of his mouth as he recited every word with the most intimate intonation. "He reads well," she murmurs softly.
"Well, next time just buy an audio book," Damon mutters under his breath. She doesn't hear him over Stefan's voice reverberating through her, threatening to arouse her right now.
Damon hits ungraciously on the button of the stereo to fill the cabin with something else - than his brother and his judgy – to occupy his mind. A nerve under the jaw pulls and twitch.
Damn your eyes!
They're taking my breath away
Bonnie turns to the driver seat and smiles at Damon's profile. It makes her giggle how hard and concentrated he looks right now and he looks briefly at her.
"What?" he growls, irritated.
"You look so serious," she says, making a face on the last word. "Smile," she tells him, weakly hitting his shoulder with one hand, "Smile, Damon. I feel like smiling tonight."
He wants to ask her why, but instead he says, "I don't." Drunk people will likely tell the truth. In vino veritas, but he really doesn't want to know. "I wasn't planning on being the designated driver."
For making me wanna stay
Damn your eyes
"Lame," she accuses him, he sees the ghost of a smile playing on her plump lips as he turns his eyes on her. "You offered," she almost chants, spread on the soft leather of the passenger seat. She reaches out to hit his shoulder again and he uses his left hand to block her palm against his jacket.
"This is dangerous," he says, voice low and reason barely working. He could be talking about anything right now – himself included.
"I died once," she reminds him, "How much worse can this be?"
For getting my hopes up high
Making me fall in love again!
Damn your eyes!
He swallows and lets her hand slip away from him so that he can stop the car in front of her house and turn off the radio.
"Listen, I get that you're upset over the end of your stupid little romance-"
"I'm not," she says, shaking her head and smiling so brightly he's blinded for a moment, "I'm so not upset it's not even funny," she insists, her hands up in the air while she expresses herself more freely then she ever did since he's known her. "I just want to feel good," and the way her voice slips under his skin tells him exactly what kind of good she's looking for, and he fears he knows the person she wants to do that for her.
"That's all well and good but you're not in your right mind," he tells her, "You're drunk and not yourself."
"I don't think you know me," she sighs offering a grin.
"Right, because you're such a mystery," he humors her, "So unpredictable. It's not like you to cut an inch off your hair every month to make sure you don't grow split ends. It's not like you still use bitter nail polish sometimes so you won't bite them when you're nervous. It's not like you feel guilty over anything you don't do perfectly."
She rolls her eyes, in a way that's so familiar that he doesn't notice the shifting in the air. The side he left uncovered.
"I think I'll trade perfect for happy," she says, like she's deciding so, for good.
"Just, stay away from Stefan," he says, unable to stop himself.
She looks at him, lucidly, "Why?"
He looks away, "You're confused. I'm worried for you," and she laughs, so warmly that he looks back amazed at the sound. That's another thing she never prepared him for, something – he thinks – that could make him bleed.
"You're worried," she repeats, still laughing, and he doesn't know if it's a question or a statement. "I sacrifice myself on a regular basis to keep your girlfriend safe and you don't bat a lash. One of your brilliant plans actually had me dying against a mass murderer, but you're worried for me because I had a few drinks with your brother?" She covers her face with both hands shaking from too much laughing, and when she stops her eyes are shining with happy tears.
"Oh, Damon," she murmurs and sighs, leaning into him, "I'm touched," she says almost against his ear before pressing a kiss down his cheek, not far from his jaw.
Bonnie pulls back, obviously humored and relaxed, frees herself from the seatbelt and gets out of the car, breathing in the fresh air. Her walk is steadier but no less inviting as Damon stays frozen in his place, her breath still burning against his lobe.
#
She kicks her shoes away as soon as she's closed the front door behind her and takes off her shirt, feeling too hot. She easily takes her cell phone, pressing the last number she dialed and turns around to pull back the little curtain on the glass of her door.
"Are you home?"
"Yes," she says, watching as Damon finally starts the engine to drive away from her house.
"May I ask you what my brother had to say to you?"
"You may," she concedes, "But I have no idea. I don't make a habit of paying too much attention to Damon. It would only stroke his ego and he gets that enough."
She can hear him smile against his phone. Stefan's ego, on the other hand, she'd die to stroke.
#
He's actually grateful to his brother for his unexpected return home, not that he'd say that out loud. Part of him had wanted to snap his neck but the other part had regained the needed lucidity to understand what was about to happen between him and Bonnie
It turned out he hadn't taken into the right account the power of Bonnie's allure to him, the call that both her insecurity and her fire had over him, until he had found himself accidentally flirting with her, unwittingly waiting for a sign of her consent so that he could bite her lips, feel her tongue murmuring in his mouth… and handle her breasts, and sink where she was most feminine and lovely – he couldn't think about that now, or ever, really.
Am I bad? She asked him that night. Am I bad - he wants to ask her himself – for wanting you this badly, at the most inopportune time, in the most improper way? She's his friend and he wants to read her erotic poems and make her dizzy enough to have to steady her with his hands.
He crosses his legs as he lay on his bed. "I didn't thank you for the drinks," he says, hearing the front door closing on the lower floor.
"Next time it's on you," she answers. He's so intent in knowing every shade of her voice that can hear the soft sound of her naked feet on the wooden staircase and wonders about the color of her toenails, if they are colored at all.
But she said next time and he is supposed to put on the brakes, now, before he is unable to - that when it's necessary - but the door gets opens wide and Damon barges in like he's going to war. No doubt he is.
"We have to talk," he says, ignoring the fact that he is on the phone.
"Damon?" Bonnie asks.
"It seems like he feels talkative tonight," he confirms.
"Lucky you," she comments ironically, making him grin in his brother's face, "Goodnight Stefan."
"Goodnight Bonnie," he says, never moving his eyes from Damon's. His big brother seems ready to smash his furniture – it's not that bad, he feels like renovating anyway.
"What can I do for you?" he asks, putting his phone down.
"Stay away from judgy, for starters," he informs him without beating around the bush.
"I don't think I can do that," he replies, calmly.
"You shouldn't use her just because you're upset about me going regularly balls deep in your girlfriend," he growls.
Stefan is not impressed by his vulgarity, but it still makes him smile, the word he instinctively used. "Ex-girlfriend," he corrects him. "Isn't it strange how you still can't think of her as anything else but my girlfriend?" he asks, "You know, mine."
"Whatever, don't turn all Freud on me. We're talking about you and the witch, here."
"I'm failing at seeing how that concerns you," Stefan explains, looking at him like he's desperately trying to make the connection between the two.
"You're trying to get back at Elena or getting over her using judgy," he accuses him "Hurting her won't make you feel better".
"Because it is so impossible to be attracted to Bonnie…" he suggest amused at the idea.
"That's not what it's about, and you know it," he spits back, and Stefan pulls himself up, to sit on the bed and face his brother.
"I know that, but do you even know what this is about?" he asks, genuinely curious now. He had seen signs before but had always pushed back the idea, it seemed crazy, but not so much anymore.
"What?" Damon grimaces, confused.
"Jeremy cheated on her with a ghost but you were fine. You never made a fuss about her being hurt aside from cutting remarks, usually towards her, no less. But now, because you see her hanging with me you decide you need to protect her."
"You're out of control and dangerous," he states.
"I am, aren't I?" Stefan presses; he knows he needs to be careful around Bonnie – even though not for the reasons Damon is listing – and yet he can't help but to savor the sick pleasure offered by his brother's aversion and repulsion to the very idea of having Bonnie for himself.
"As long as she's with a loser you can just rip to shreds whenever you feel like you had enough of it - it's just fine - but when it's someone who can actually be her equal things change, don't they?" he grins, exasperating him.
"What are you implying?" Damon asks, angry and outraged. He was doing the freaking right thing for once, protecting Elena's friend, because Elena would be upset to know what was happening. But his brother is trying to turn things against him and he doesn't like it.
Stefan seems to think about his answer before saying "Spoiler," with the most entertained expression. How can he not be amused at his brother's ignorance of his own feelings? They are yet again at square one, attracted to the same girl. Karma can be a bitch.
"It was nice talking to you," Stefan says, lying back on the bed, "Close the door on your way out."
#
Note: I received a lot of PMs about this fanfiction lately, urging me to continue it, in the end I gave in even if I was really unsure about this chapter because my inspiration has kinda left me and I don't even know where to start to write something. Anyway, I hope this chapter is good. Let me know. The song I used is "Damn your eyes" by Alex Clare.
