Damon admires the mass of red hair bobbing up and down between his thighs. He could barely contain his excitement when Jeremy snuck off to check in with Bonnie. Damon immediately hightailed back to Dunham Lake's only bar, and sure enough, Sage was still there, trying to pick up an afternoon patron. They made their way to a secluded part of the surrounding forest to finish what Jeremy so rudely interrupted. Sage is in the middle of repaying Damon's oral expertise when his phone vibrates. She halts mid-stroke when he has the audacity to answer the call.
"That's me, your trusty bodyguard. Calm in crisis," Damon jokes once he has effectively talked Elena down from an emotional cliff. She wipes away her last tear with her index finger and touches it to the phone screen. He touches his index finger to hers and promises to come home as soon as possible. By the time they end their video call, Sage is long gone and probably scrawling "Damon Salvatore has a limp dick!" in the bar's ladies' room.
Matt chastises but does not outright refuse Damon's offer. Damon gets so much pussy that he often has to pawn it off, and Matt and Tyler are the usual beneficiaries. If not, Damon would have a mess of crying and/or angry women following him around 24/7. He finds that setting the women up with their next victims lessens the fury towards him. Last castaway went to Ric - who should actually be removed from the rolodex due to his lack of participation - so Matt is up next. Matt goes through the motions of his nice guy routine, but Damon knows Matt has had a little crush on Rebekah for some time. Two birds.
Damon's last order of the day is to check in with Elijah. Rebekah, a perpetual tantrum, needs to be reeled in before Elena makes her a boxing dummy. Elijah assures Damon that Rebekah has been dealt with. Elijah controls Rebekah's purse strings as she continues to drag through Mystic Falls Community College. Elena is important but not more important than Manolos.
Leaving the gents to salvage their weekend, Damon hops on Vee and beelines back to Mystic Falls. This time, the wind does not cure all, but instead blasts icy reality onto his stubbled face. The road from Dunham Hill to Mystic Falls is dangerous to navigate, even more so at night. What is he doing, flying along it like a bat out of hell? Elijah's girl and all. Comforting Elena today felt too good, too right. Damon cautions himself; he feels one tiny puff away from blowing down the house of lies that he and Elijah have so painstakingly built the last three years.
Damon knows he loves Elena. He knows he will never love anyone more. But being with her, properly, in a romantic relationship, scares the fuck out of him. And he knows exactly why it scares the fuck out of him. One word. The word he cannot say, even in the sanctity of his own mind. Dr. John Gilbert's methods were unorthodox and even criminal, but they served their intended purpose. They jarred Damon out of the fantasy that he had built for himself. The fantasy that was all too easy to live when he was breathing her air, tasting her lips, touching her body.
Damon stops by the roadside to snap himself out of thoughts that hurt him more than any caged attack. He shakes his head in dark mirth; he could use a distraction like Sage right about now. He paces back and forth and lets his eyes adjust to the black. The black does not stay for long, replaced with the high beams of an oncoming car. The car pulls next to Vee and the driver exits. Another redhead, what are the chances? She is an Anne Hathaway mixture of cute-hot with bangs and green eyes. Jessica. Sage did not know him but Jessica sure does.
Damon and Jessica chat for a few minutes, building the sexual charge in the air around them. He likes this part the most; how long can they last before it all goes to hell? Less than five minutes, and she is down to her underwear with her hands braced against the hood of her car. He is usually a proponent of long, drawn-out foreplay, but his blue balls protest this time. Fair enough. He pulls aside the slip of cloth covering her entrance and invites his condom-covered self in. Another car passes by them and honks several times in blessed approval. They occupy each other for another hour before he decides he has had enough. Any longer and she would have probably turned into a clinger. She enters her number into his phone and promises that she is up for anything, anytime.
Damon covers Elena's exposed body with his comforter. She stirs, peeking at him through half-lidded doe eyes with a mix of vulnerability, hope, and something else he clearly identifies but does not want to name. Fuck it, one secret, selfish day. He tries to shush her back to sleep while tiptoeing into his bed. She curls up into his chest and pulls his arms around her waist, prompting him to play big spoon to her little spoon. He tucks her head under his chin, the scent of her flowery shampoo drifting around him. He winds his fingers through hers, leading their left hands to her heart and right to her hip. She complains about her cold feet, which he proceeds to heat up with his own. Her sleep is fitful but at least it exists.
Author's Note: Thank you for the feedback, follows, and favourites. Special thanks to bellax0xchristina and Avenger7.