A/N: I'm coming to terms with most of my readers having class on weekday mornings. I'm in the mood to ruin some lives, so I may start posting chapters at midnight only. Haha. Just kidding, but here's the next two chapters because I love you and who needs sleep. xoxo -SA

"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

Pablo Neruda

Stefan didn't want Elena in the house. Not with Damon down the hall. But his car and keys were at her house since he ran home the night before. The feeling of being so overcome with panic and worry seemed like ages ago.

She insisted on driving the car to him. He wasn't sure he saw the point. He could run back, even at human speed, it wouldn't take long except to explain why, but she had called from the road.

He debated warning his brother, but maybe one tiny punch to the ego would be payback enough for the night before. Something to help Stefan feel like he had a little more control over everything going on between them. He walked outside and collapsed into a chair on the porch.

Okay. That would be a dick move. But here she came.

Damon lay in bed, stripped down on top of the blankets. He couldn't sleep. Stefan's side of the bed was empty and cool to the touch, and the sheets didn't even smell like him since they were fresh. He pushed aside the regret that flared up. The girl hadn't been any kind of satisfying. Willing but incapable of fulfilling his desires. Not when he wanted someone so much better. He hadn't even gotten hard enough to do anything worthwhile until Stefan had stood in front of him. Now he couldn't make the hungry beast go down.

His cock throbbed in his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to alleviate the pressure. Stefan's hands set his body on fire. They'd get there. He was sure they would. Where it could be Stefan's hand instead of his. Or the parts of his brother that didn't spend as much time pushing Damon away.

Fuck.

He wasn't some prepubescent kid. Jerking off in his bed alone was not his style. He'd always given Stefan shit for the self-denial he went through over his diet, but Damon could be just as stubborn when it came to denying himself other things.

He was a charming badass stud—he was Damon fucking Salvatore—and if he wanted to get laid, he could. Would. Eventually.

The soft voices coming from outside seemed to argue against him.

Elena sat next to Stefan, dropping his keys in his open hand. Her smile reminded him of the sun; warm and bright and blistering when he wasn't prepared for the exposure.

"So, what happened last night?"

It could take weeks for him to figure that out too. Instead of an answer, he watched her. He didn't know why she seemed so hesitant. Her phone was vibrating in her hand, but other than glancing down then away, she didn't seem to pay it any attention. He didn't notice how much she was looking up at the road until he heard another car crunching leaves on his driveway.

He lurched to standing, appalled as the whole alt-scooby gang got out of Caroline's car. Matt came over from the passenger side, nervous, Bonnie got out of the back, determined. Tyler followed, eyes darting around, apparently scouting for escape routes.

"What is happening?" Stefan asked, alarm ringing loudly in his head.

"Can we come in? We need to talk." Caroline tried politely. Her usual smile was forced and insistent.

Stefan didn't have a chance to refuse them. By the time he figured out they were there on a mission, Elena had opened the door and let them in.

He herded them into the room off the kitchen, advising them not to wander. If letting his girlfriend into his home felt like crossing a line, letting her friends—their friends—fill the house was a call to war.

They all sat around him at the formal dining table.

With him at the end it suddenly felt like a conference meeting, or an interrogation. It wasn't like anyone used the table for anything else.

"What is going on exactly?" He repeated.

Everyone's head swiveled to Bonnie, whose narrowed eyes were on Stefan.

"We need to talk about Damon."

At the sound of his name from the witch's mouth, Damon sat up in bed.

So the villagers had come to storm the castle after all. This was it. The moment Elena would ruin them both.

Whatever he was trying to convince himself into, or out of, was suddenly irrelevant. His softer-by-the-second dick seemed to be okay with aborting whatever teasing Damon was sinking into. Instead, he got up and got dressed.

In Stefan's long and varied experiences of being questioned about his brother, this had definitely been the lamest. Although the sheer number of interrogators about one person was sort of impressive.

Elena sighed.

Bonnie shot her a look and went back to Stefan. "What are you going to do about him taking Darcy from the dance?"

So the girl had a name. He couldn't remember if he ever saw her in a class. The image he was having a hard enough time suppressing, blood on the sheets, and her thighs around Damon's hips like an arrow pointing to the spot their bodies met flashed in front of him. He didn't say anything. The panic his brother's name usually brought up was either on such a consistent current that he didn't flinch, or he didn't feel the same fear of everyone's suspicions. He knew what his brother was capable of. Without Damon's misdirection, he was confident she was alive and in one piece with a pleasant memory of her night with the dark stranger and no memory of the blood.

He dismissed their concern with a wave of his hand. "I'm not going to do anything. She isn't dead."

"That's not the point." Matt said quietly. Stefan could hear fear in the uptick of his heartbeat.

"We have to stop him from letting it get that far. He's too dangerous." Bonnie insisted.

Yes, he was. Far too dangerous for Stefan's own good at least. He clasped his hands together and stared at them on the table. But it'd been so long since Damon killed anyone for the hell of it. Even though he knew it was never really just for the hell of it. His brother wasn't the kind of danger the neighborhood needed to worry about so much anymore. Another flash of the girl's hand on his brother's bare chest disappeared under the fresher memory of Stefan's greedy hands replacing hers made Stefan's palms tingle.

"That's ridiculous. She was barely compelled."

"Barely!?" Elena squeaked, a little too loud. "Stefan, it's wrong!"

Stefan looked around the table at their friends—his friends—each a measured second. The doppelgänger, the werewolf, the witch, the baby vampire, and the human hunter. They were just kids. There were leagues of grey they still had to experience. He couldn't even remember what such black and white convictions felt like. Although, he probably had a firmer grasp on that morality issue before he had kissed Damon back.

His throat had trouble clearing and he rubbed at a phantom itch on the back of his neck. "No. Feeding on someone and letting her go home is not wrong." He found Caroline paying the most attention. "It's the right way, actually."

She nodded almost imperceptibly, her lips pressed in a tight line. She glanced over at Matt, who was still looking nervous, rubbing his forearm like it may have been tender. Stefan realized they both understood. Guess she wasn't with Tyler anymore. There seemed to be a lot of things he didn't notice anymore. He didn't have to wonder how he missed that change.

Whatever Bonnie started to say came to a crashing halt as her eyes shot up, and suddenly everyone was looking at something behind Stefan.

Someone.

He didn't have to look to know who it was. Though he was surprised he didn't hear his brother arrive. His heart dropped at the idea of Damon knowing everyone was gathered against him in his own house.

He ducked his head, cursing his own stupid acquiescence to let them all inside when Damon was supposed to be sleeping upstairs, before turning in the chair to face him.

"Hello, brother."

Damon stood there, arms crossed over his chest, legs and body rigid, but his eyes were wide and manic. The control over his voice sounding a little strained. "Another game night?"

Stefan shook his head, knowing he looked guilty as fuck. "Not exactly."

"Right." The word came out clipped, and not hurt exactly, but something Stefan considered more dented than broken. Damon walked toward the front door with a look on his face that screamed of bad decisions.

Stefan was up in a flash, the table of teenagers abandoned as Stefan chased his brother outside.

Damon ended up on the other side of the house, opening the door to his Camaro by the time Stefan pulled him back.

He tried to dodge Stefan's hand, visibly pissed off. The sinking feeling inside Stefan found new depths. He couldn't stomach seeing the back of his brother's head anymore. He wedged himself between Damon and the car, standing in front of the seat and gripped Damon's shoulders with both hands.

"Please. I'm sorry."

"I don't care." Damon stepped back, unable to get further with Stefan barricading the opening.

"Of course you do. And I'm sorry. I'll get them out."

"It doesn't matter." Damon shifted slightly back and forth, looking more like a cornered wild animal than anything. "I'm going out. Do whatever you want."

Stefan stepped forward, grabbing the middle of Damon's shirt and pulling him closer. "Don't you dare fucking leave me." He cupped one hand under Damon's chin, yanking his head up so they could look at each other. "I didn't ask them to come over. I'm not going to let them do anything to you."

Damon stopped moving, furious eyes boring into Stefan's. "I'm not scared of them." He snarled through gritted teeth. Damon's eyes were darkening, but Stefan wasn't worried anymore. His hand dropped away.

"Well, they are scared of you!" He shouted back.

Blinking rapidly, Damon looked away, didn't get far with Stefan still holding him in place. He kept his eyes averted until they cleared, blinked again when they were wet and shining. Softer, Damon looked back at Stefan. "Are you?"

"No!" came out so quick, he worried his big brother missed it so he tried again. "No, I'm not scared of you." He released his grip on Damon's shirt, smoothing out the fabric, unable to stop touching once he started, so he rested his hands again on Damon's shoulder. "Please. After every fucked up thing. You're the one I count on, okay? I lo-" Stefan cut himself off and shook his head. He couldn't say those words. Not yet, not when everything was still so fucked. He caught Damon's wide eyes and tried again. "I'm not scared of you. Of this. I just need to take care of them first." He took a small step forward, pulling Damon closer too. "I still trust you. Please trust me too."

"Yeah." Damon blew out a breath. "Yeah. Okay." He tried taking another step away, but Stefan kept a hold of his arm. "I need to get out of here before the witch gets any stupid ideas about me. But you and me…" He put a hand on Stefan's cheek rubbing his thumb over Stefan's bottom lip. "One more day, alright? Today is the last day we get to be fucking idiots, and tomorrow, I'll come home and we'll make this better."

Grateful, Stefan pressed into his touch. He tilted his head, letting both lips brush over Damon's thumb in the shadow of a kiss. He'd been waiting for his brother to look at him that way for a century and a half. One more day. He let go and took a step sideways letting Damon get in the car.

"Don't let those fucking kids make you feel ashamed of what we are." Damon muttered, staring out the windshield.

Stefan only nodded as Damon drove away.

Stefan walked slowly back inside to a table of stunned silent teenagers.

"You didn't stop him?" Bonnie stood up, banging her hands on the table. "He's going to hurt somebody."

"Enough." Stefan growled. He saw the moment they each suddenly remembered that Stefan was dangerous too. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed front door. "He's fine." He went back to his seat at the head of the table. "Sit. Down. There are a few things you all need to understand about my brother."