Author's Note: I felt like a real dick for taking so long to write this. I just…didn't have the inspiration. But, well, after I started I just couldn't stop. I made this extra long as an apology for my absence.
Oh, by the way, I also feel like a dick for never responding to your reviews. I promise, this time, I'm going to send a private message to everyone who reviews. It's the least I can do. :3
Ooh, also, if you guys are interested in Teen Wolf, I made a fanfiction for that as I was cough supposed to be writing this cough. Well, if you're interested, please check it out! (Shameless self-promotion…)
Damon slowly stepped up the concrete steps, swelling up his courage as he drew eminently closer to his impending doom. He rested against the railing, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes. Goddammit, he did not want to go through with this. He knew that if he did, he'd have to live with the fact that he didn't have a best friend anymore. If you could even call their relationship that these days.
He drew in a deep breath, trying to think calming thoughts as he delved into his courage bank, applying for a generous loan. His mind wandered, turning to the most prominent person in his life.
The room was icy cold, but he didn't feel a degree of it. He looked down at the arms encircling his waist, his shirt up just enough so that you could see half of his six-pack. He looked over at the hazel eyes just a few centimeters away from his, his tone sarcastic but his eyes vulnerable.
"So is this gonna happen often?" He asked, moving his eyes away from those hypnotizing orbs.
Stefan smiled beatifically, nuzzling his nose into Damon's neck. "I don't know. What will happen if it does?"
Damon looked back at Stefan, unable to hide his joy at being treated so affectionately. He cleared his throat. "You got me there," he whispered, barely audible.
I don't know if you guys have guessed, but they're in bed. I just never got around to putting that in, and now it's too late. Oh well. On with the story.
Stefan looked up at Damon, his chin still resting on the smaller vampire's shoulder. "Well, guess this will have to keep going on, if only to see where it will take us." He chuckled, moving his thumb across Damon's exposed flesh.
Damon drew in a breath, trying to contain his bliss yet failing epically. He just buried his face into Stefan's chest, unable to even speak.
Damon blushed at the memory of last night, realising that yes, it did calm him down. He pulled a hand through his hair, thinking of a different hand that had stroked it not too long ago. Smiling, Damon continued up the stairs, until he reached that apartment door. Clearing his throat, Damon knocked twice, then waited, resting against a wall, his arms crossed.
He counted out three seconds before he heard the latch pop open, the door swinging wide. He snapped his head up, looking into Alaric's red eyes. Damon couldn't tell if it was from alcohol, tears, or both. "Uh, hey," Damon said, awkwardly standing up straight and shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah…hi," Alaric responded, not moving from the doorframe.
"You uh, gonna let me in?" Damon asked, a small, hesitant smile crossing his lips.
"Debating…" Alaric said, scratching the back of his neck. He stood there for about a minute, his eyes staring fixedly into Damon's. Finally, he stood up straight. "Ah, hell, what the fuck. Come on in," he said eloquently, pushing the door open all the way and walking into the house, not waiting for Damon to follow.
Which he did, his eyesight following Alaric's feet as they crossed the living room to the couch, resting in front of the only armchair. Alaric sat, letting himself relax as he opened another bottle of beer, downing it before he spoke. "Okay, I already can tell by your expression that you decided I'm not worth your time." Alaric held up a hand to stop Damon's response, continuing as if he hadn't stopped. "If you wanna be with that pussy-foot little bastard, go ahead, I'm not stopping you. All I ask is this: at least come around my house once in a while, and never let the pussy-foot near me, or I may just have to stick a spike into his fucking heart."
Damon's eyes widened, chilled by Alaric's deathly tone and his uncaring eyes. He realised that he had caused Alaric's meltdown, and stared sadly at the man his once best friend had become. Alaric's eyes were sunken in, dark shadows surrounding them. He was wearing wrinkled clothes, much too big for him, and ratty old socks. He hadn't been to school for a week. As long as everyone was concerned, Alaric went AWOL.
Damon cleared his throat yet again, biting his lips. He looked at Alaric through his eyelashes, his heart pounding as he tried to think of a way to abate Alaric's anger. Nothing was coming to him at the moment, but he was sure something would. Eventually. Plans always had a way of forming themselves inside his brain. It was kinda like that scene in Alien, you know, where the alien baby just kinda popped out of the human's stomach?
Damon's internal craziness was interrupted when he felt a presence extremely close. He looked up in time to see Alaric crash onto him, lips going for whatever they could find, which turned out to be Damon's neck. "Alaric!" Damon nearly shrieked, his hands grabbing air as he told his brain to come up with a plan quickly. Sadly, it seemed as though the planning-committee was on a hiatus.
Growling frustratedly, Damon pushed Alaric back, trying to talk sense into the history teacher. Alaric just growled back, his hands freely roaming Damon's body as if he was a sack of potatoes. Damon spat out unintelligible words, his patience breaking when Alaric reached down into his pants. "Get the fuck off!" He roared, throwing the human across the room. Alaric hit the wall, crumpling into himself when he landed.
"Oh, fuck!" Damon whispered, immediately regretting his rash reaction. He rushed over to Alaric, his hands hovering over the prostrate body, wondering how he could help.
"Just…" Alaric whispered, his eyes streaming tears unabashedly, "just get out. Get the fuck out of my house, and never come back." He turned his back to Damon, rubbing his arms as if he were freezing.
Damon choked on a sob, his eyes blurring at Alaric's words. "N-no, yo-you said-said that you w-w-wanted me to v-v-visit," he choked out, his stutter resurfacing.
Alaric turned his head, glaring at Damon, his eyes burning hate. "I said. Get. The. Fuck. Out. NOW." He spat out, tears gone.
Damon stood up quickly, backing out of the room, the back of his hand covering his open mouth. "S-s-s-sorry-y," he whispered, before he left, quieter than the words he just spoke.
Alaric lay on his back and sighed, his hand covering his eyes. "And yes, ladies and gentlemen, my life can get worse," he said, chuckling a bit maniacally at his words.
Damon raced through the streets, so fast that he was only a violent gust of wind to passing pedestrians. His eyes leaked bitter tears, unable to get the image of Alaric's bruised body out of his mind. Oh, how he hated himself. He was the worst blight on the earth. It would be better if he just killed himself. Or…no, he wouldn't even think of the thought that passed quickly through his mind. He wouldn't turn off his emotions again. Not this time. He was stronger than that.
In no time he had reached his house, which he quickly entered. He ran to his bedroom, flinging himself on the bed. He looked over to his stash of alcohol, then winced. He didn't deserve a reprieve from the pain he was feeling. He knew whatever he felt, Alaric felt it ten times over. He flung his arm over his eyes, trying to block out any light. The tears kept coming as he searched for something, anything, which would atone for the pain he had caused Alaric, and the happiness he had found without him.
Then, suddenly, his planning-committee returned. Yes, Damon knew exactly what to do. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, which now had a light of determination. He had a plan.
Stefan opened the door to his and Damon's house, smelling the air. He sensed something…different, and he suspected it had to do with Damon. He dropped the special blood packets he had picked up, following his nose as he trailed Damon's most recent tracks. He walked down to the cellar, his eyes questioning as he came to the door he usually locked vampires in when they needed a "time-out". "Damon?" Stefan called, squinting into the darkness. He saw a darker shadow move, then watched as it walked slowly into the light.
"Stefan," Damon said, his eyes dilated fully, searching for a bit of light in the invading darkness.
Stefan drew in a breath, his eyebrows lowered as he studied his former brother. "What the fuck do you think you're doing in this hellhole?" He asked, his hands forming into fists as he smelled the stench coming off of Damon. "Never mind. I already know. That bastard Alaric made you feel like shit again, so you decided to punish yourself for doing the right thing."
Damon shook his head. "No, Stefan, you're wrong. I'm not in the right. Everywhere I go I cause irreparable damage to anyone in sight. It's better if I just wait out a couple of hundred years in here."
Stefan growled, gritting his teeth as he gripped the bars in front of his and Damon's faces. "Like hell. You're getting the fuck out of there. You don't cause any fucking damage. You're like, the one good thing in this entire world. You're the only one who can make me want to ignore my vampire instincts. When I see you, I want to be better, just so I can feel adequate enough to stay next to you. I fucking love you, you dumb fuck!"
Damon's face crumpled as tears began to appear, racing down his blushing cheeks. "Godammit, I wish you would stop saying such embarrassing things," Damon said, rubbing away at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
Stefan smiled grimly, reaching a hand through the bars to wipe away some of Damon's flooding tears. "Get out of there," he whispered, his lips hovering over Damon's forehead.
Damon only shook his head as more tears streamed down his face, closing his eyes. "You didn't see him, Stefan. You didn't see the way he looked at me. I caused him to become so hateful. I made him angry." He took in a shaky breath, his eyes narrowing. "And now, I've become this stupid cry baby. It's all too much; everything's happening so fast. First we're brothers, then we're not, then you love me, then Alaric loves me, then I love you, then I ruin Alaric's life! What's next, I'm gonna cause World War Three?" Damon lifted his head, his eyes determined. "I'm not gonna cause anyone any more pain. I'm through." Damon's tone had a ring of finality in it as he slowly started backing away, his eyes determined.
Stefan stood, shocked. What the fuck? Damon thought he could just get away with this without Stefan putting up a fight? Stefan shook his head, his eyes equally determined. "Damon…" he said, his voice pleading and his eyes reassuring, "If you stay in there, you'll be causing me pain. How do you think I would feel, unable to hold you in my arms, or wrestle in the snow, or have terrible fights? Without you, my life is meaningless! I might as well kill myself," Stefan said, his arms crossed defiantly.
Damon's eyes widened, then narrowed. "You wouldn't," he hissed, walking up to the door.
Stefan smirked, his stance determined. "Oh, wouldn't I?" he responded, then his face broke into a grin. "The negative is in my hands," he said, laughing against the back of his hand.
And then, he was on his back, facing the ceiling. Damon was on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground. "If you do that, I will fucking desecrate your corpse," Damon ground out through his teeth, his face menacing.
Stefan stared up at Damon, his eyes wide. He watched as Damon's face yet again crumpled, a few tears escaping his eyes. "I would kill you again," he choked out, sitting back on Stefan's stomach as he brought his hands up to cover his leaking eyes.
Stefan's face softened, his eyes loving as he slowly pulled Damon down to his level, cradling the smaller vampire in his strong arms. "There's no fucking way I would kill myself if you're still here," he whispered into Damon's ear, stroking the hair next to it.
Damon sniffled, rubbing his runny nose against the collar of Stefan's shirt. "Goo-good," he stuttered out, his eyes shifting away. He wasn't comfortable with the amount of emotion he had showed today. Stefan had a way of fucking up his self-control. He again sat back on Stefan's chest, wiping at the remaining set of tears with the bottom of his shirt.
Stefan watched, eyes suddenly hungry at the sight of Damon's exposed flesh. He sat up, Damon sliding down into his lap as he licked at a tear Damon had missed. The accosted vampire shivered, leaning into Stefan's embrace. He bit into the taller vampire's ear, punishment for making him cry. Stefan groaned, his eyes closing as his need for Damon grew. He pulled back so he could look into Damon's eyes, wondering if Damon's need was as evident as his. Clearly. Once his question was answered, Stefan leaned in, planting a long, slow, delectable open-mouth kiss on Damon's waiting lips. Damon panted, his eyes closing as he let himself go, his hands fisting into Stefan's shir—
Diiiiinngggg doooonggggggg
The two vampires snapped up, their eyes searching as if awaking from a dream. Stefan sighed as the doorbell rang yet again. He leaned his head into Damon's chest, his eyes closing in consternation. "To be continued," he whispered against Damon's exposed collarbone. Damon shivered, scared of yet anticipating this promise.
Author's Last Note, I promise: Teehee. Do you hate me for cutting their "intimate moment" short? Well, I couldn't just have them do it on the dirty floor, right? Unless you're into that, you kinky bastard you. ;D
Perhaps next time will be the time that Damon loses his flower? Ah, who are we kidding? We all know he's had sex with a man before. XD
Oh, also, I found out that Ian Sommerhalder is in a movie! And he plays a gay dude! It's awesome. I haven't finished it, but I read the book, and I'm pretty sure he kisses a dude. So, if you're interested in seeing some smexy guys making out, check out "Rules of Attraction!" :D (I feel like some talkshow host or something. So, what's new in your lives? XD)
