FYI, I'm aware that season 7 has revealed more details about the Salvatores' human lives, but I'm ignoring most of that information because it conflicts with scenes that I already sketched out.
Chapter 11
The two boys were able to easily find the local saloon. Stefan's eyes widened as he took in the scene. It was far more rowdy than any bar he had ever seen. The men were rip roaring drunk and falling all over each other. An piano played somewhere in the background, but it was nearly drowned out by laughter.
The boys used a little bit of the money they had and bought a couple of drinks before sitting down to watch a game of poker. Stefan sipped his beer and listened to the men tell jokes. The vibrant atmosphere felt great after the tedium of camp life and the buzz of the alcohol calmed his nerves.
After about an hour, two women approached Stefan and James. Stefan jerked in surprise when one of women pressed her body up against his. He couldn't resist letting his gaze drift to her partially exposed breasts. She batted her lashes and Stefan was too distracted to understand when she asked him a question. He gave a dazed nod and silently followed her up the stairs. Stefan saw out of the corner of his eye that another woman had attached herself to James.
The woman took Stefan to a room with a bed and pushed him against a wall. She giggled and kissed him passionately while unbuttoning his shirt. His head spun from the alcohol.
She paused when she saw his bandaged arm. "War wound?" she asked.
Stefan gasped for breath and nodded. "A stray bullet."
The woman gently stroked his jaw. "At least it wasn't your pretty face." She leaned down and kissed a trail down his neck.
He moaned and leaned his head back against the wall.
Stefan jumped and pulled away from the woman when the door slammed open. His eyes went wide at the sight of a very pissed off older brother standing the doorway. Damon's eyes burned with anger as he took in the sight before him.
Stefan swore his heart had stopped beating as his arousal disappeared. He quickly pulled a sheet over his lap in embarrassment.
As he sat there frozen in shock, his older brother curled his lip in disgust and tossed the women a coin. "Leave," he barked.
Thankfully, the woman had enough self-preservation to take the money and go.
Stefan let out a startled yelp when Damon ripped the sheet off of him and pulled him up off the bed. Determined, the elder Salvatore sat down on the worn bed and pulled him over his knee.
"Damon, no! Please don't do this here!"
His older brother snorted. "You really want to do this at camp where everyone can see and hear?"
The urge to melt into the floor intensified for Stefan as he fisted the fabric of his brother's trousers. He frantically checked to see if the door was open, but his relief was short-lived.
"That's what I thought," grumbled Damon.
Stefan hissed at the first swat. His brother definitely wasn't holding back.
"Owww! Damon please! I'm seventeen now," Stefan pleaded. "You said it was fine once I turned seventeen."
His brother swatted him even harder while focusing on his sit spots.
"That is so not the point of this and you know it. What did I say about going into town?" he lectured.
"You said no," groaned Stefan.
"Exactly. And what did you do after I trusted you to go find James?"
"I...owww...disobeyed." He blinked back tears.
"I was terrified when I couldn't find you at camp. This is war," snapped Damon. "Not a game."
Stefan hissed at the sting in his backside. He couldn't help kicking his legs a bit.
"And when I tell you no about something, I mean it."
Damon spanked in silence for several minutes. He methodically covered every inch of Stefan's backside until it was scarlet and Stefan was chocking back sobs. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as when his brother used the strap, but it still hurt none the less. He was also more than a little embarrassed to be naked over his brother's knee after getting caught with a prostitute.
"I'm sorry," he howled.
"Oh I'm sure you are," Damon mused. He finished up with twenty more swats before shaking the sting out of his hand.
Damon used his other hand to rub his little brother's back for a minute while Stefan tried to get his breathing under control. Pulling him into a standing position, Damon squeezed his shoulder and soothed, "All right, dry your tears."
Stefan wiped the stray tears from his face and tried to rub the throbbing out of his bottom. He reached for his unionsuit only to have Damon stop him.
"Ah ah, not just yet," scolded Damon as he yanked the clothing out of Stefan hands and laid them on the bed. "I want this lesson to stick. Look at me."
Stefan covered himself with his hands and reluctantly looked at his brother's face.
Damon gave him a piercing look. "How far did she get?"
Stefan blushed bright red and moved his hands to cover his face. "Kill me now," he thought.
Damon simply pulled his hands away and raised an eyebrow.
"Not very far," muttered Stefan.
His brother was not impressed that answer. "How far is not very far?"
"W...we didn't...I mean.."
Damon took pity on his little brother and asked, "Did she do anything other than remove your clothes?"
"Just...some touching," said a shame-faced Stefan.
Damon looked relieved at his response. He ran a hand through his hair and looked Stefan in the eye.
"I realize that you're at an age where you like girls. I would expect nothing less from a Salvatore, but here's a little tip: avoid the prostitutes that target the army camps. Because the women are intimate with so many men, almost every man who comes in here gets sick," he said meaningfully. "And not the kind of sick that you're used to catching." He searched his little brother's face carefully. "Do you understand?"
Stefan flushed even redder and nodded. Why couldn't the ground just swallow him whole?
"A verbal answer please."
"Yes. Can I get dressed now?" He was desperate for this horrifying conversation to end.
Damon grabbed his little brother's chin and leaned in close.
"This is the second time in a month that you've snuck off after being told to stay somewhere," he scolded. "I swear to God Stefan, if you keep running off when you've been told not to, I will strap you every night for a week. As you pointed out earlier, you're seventeen. I shouldn't have to worry about you running off like a five year old."
"Yes, sir," he said meekly.
Suddenly, Damon sniffed the air and frowned. "Have you been drinking?"
Stefan winced. "A bit," he admitted.
The elder Salvatore let go of Stefan's chin and clenched his jaw. "So much for you promising not to drink. If anyone asks when you get back to camp, you had a sip of whisky because your wound was hurting."
Stefan nodded and took his clothes back from Damon. He cringed at the thought of walking back downstairs. His face was surely red and tear-streaked. Plus, the woman could likely guess what had happened. He fiddled with his suspenders for as long as possible to delay the inevitable.
Damon noticed his little brother's hesitation. "They're too drunk to notice," he reassured. Stefan wasn't so sure of that, but he followed behind his brother anyway.
When they got back to the tent, Wiley gave them a knowing look. Stefan could see the mirth in his eyes when he winked at Damon. "He's just like you, you know."
"Shut up," growled Damon as he kicked his boots off. "Stupid woman had her hands all over my baby brother." He visibly shuddered.
Wiley just laughed and rolled over on his cot.