Author's Note: I wrote this Damon/Tyler Lockwood story back in 2014. It takes place in season 2 after Mason Lockwood's death, but it features some characters from later seasons, such as Klaus and Elijah. The story is finished and I'll be posting each chapter once a week or more.

1:

Tyler Lockwood

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I slapped my hand over the alarm clock to turn it off. I felt the clock crumble underneath my palm, so I sat up to look at it. It was in pieces all over the nightstand and the floor.

How did I do that?

My attention on the shattered clock passed quickly, and I was up like a shot. I was one of those people who could stay up past midnight and wake up before dawn and still not feel tired. My morning jog was important to me, and I liked taking care in picking out the things that I wore to school. I had a reputation to protect, and I had to make sure I looked the part.

I didn't really give a fuck what other people thought, I just enjoyed the envious looks they gave me when they saw what I was wearing.

That wasn't entirely true anymore. There was one person that I gave a fuck about. One person I wanted to notice me.

For as long as I could remember, I never felt two fucks about anyone. It just wasn't in my nature to care. I saw the other kids do it when I was growing up, making friends and being nice to each other. It all looked stupid and weak to me. That's probably why Matt Donovan was the only one who stuck with me through all these years. He wasn't necessarily raised in a loving home, though, so maybe he's as messed up as I am in his own way.

My parents didn't love each other. They stayed together for their own agendas. As I got older, I only dated girls for one thing. Life was passive to me. Emotion was pointless. Why take the chance when everyone talks about getting their hearts broken?

Then he came along.

I noticed it the first time I saw him. It was like a tingling inside, an itch that I couldn't scratch and that wouldn't go away. Every time I saw him after that, the tingling got stronger. There didn't even seem to be any reason that provoked it. He just inspired something inside of me.

I barely talked to him, and when I did, he would make some sarcastic remark and blow me off. He thinks very little of me. Yet, some part of me is yearning for him to notice me. I've been trying different things to get his attention, but so far, nothing has worked.

My morning jog used to be just an exercise routine. Now it was a way to vent my frustrations after I'd spent all night dreaming about him. The dreams weren't erotic, just eery and complex, and vivid, not like the dreams I used to have. He was usually watching me curiously from afar, like an observer to my dreams, but not a player.

After my jog this morning, I took a longer shower than usual. Sometimes, I swore I could feel him standing just inside the door, watching me through the curtain. I started taking scalding hot showers regularly to ease the guilt that I was feeling for thinking of him this way. My father would be furious to know the truth if he were still alive. Not that I really cared about him, either.

I took special care finding just the right clothes. He always wore vintage or designer pieces that were impossible for most people in Mystic Falls to buy. That made me believe he was probably very well off.

Maybe my father wouldn't be so furious after all. As long as I was connected to a secure financial source.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long time before I left for school. I was always the most intrigued about my eyes.

I never saw anything in them.

The roads were clear in the way to school, as they always were in a shit-hole like Mystic Falls. I looked around and wondered if anyone was really alarmed by how many people had died in just the last couple of years. All mysteriously. All part of some bigger coverup. All including my own father and Mason.

I didn't feel much when I thought of the dead. I guess I was never connected to them much when they were alive. Mason was the only person I thought I cared about, but even his death has left me empty, and full of questions. Caroline was helping me with that, but she's made it clear she's not interested in more than a friendship. Maybe it's better that way. I don't know how long I could pretend before she realized I wasn't going to commit to her, either.

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot of Mystic Falls High School, I saw him talking to Elena Gilbert. He was always talking to Elena Gilbert.

Damon Salvatore.

Why the fuck was he always talking to Elena Gilbert when she was supposed to be dating his brother, Stefan? Maybe she was fucking them both.

Damon looked over in my direction, and I instantly felt guilty about what I thought, like he knew exactly what was on my mind. He didn't set his gaze on me, though, and the guilt passed.

He was just intent on something else. Stop being a dumb-ass and get out of the car.

I parked and slowly got out of my car, putting on the mask I called 'Arrogance' to keep people from approaching me. I wasn't planning on getting close to Elena and Damon, but there were students filling up my usual path, so I had to cut across.

"...I know, Damon. It's just not important right now," Elena sounded frustrated.

Damon sighed heavily and replied to her, "It is important, Elena. That's why I'm here."

"Look, we'll talk about this later, okay?" Elena said.

"Excuse me? Would you mind not eavesdropping on our conversation?" Damon stated loudly.

I turned to face him and realized he was looking right at me. I hadn't even noticed I had stopped to listen to them. Elena narrowed her eyes at me, and my face flushed. I stumbled to come up with something, "Uh...I wasn't..."

"It doesn't matter. We're done talking, Damon," Elena gave him a hard look before walking away.

Damon clenched his jaw and his eyes focused intently on the ground. I was still staring at him when suddenly, his eyes were staring right back at me.

What the fuck? I didn't even see him move!

I took a step back and swallowed hard, waiting for him to come at me with hateful words, or maybe a surprise right hook. Instead, he let his head fall back and calmed his expression, talking to me like I was just one of the guys, "Chicks, man."

"Yeah," I agreed, shaking my head and glancing down at the ground.

When I looked up again, Damon was gone.

Where the fuck did he go?

:-:

Damon Salvatore

"I'm going to Elena's," Stefan informed me in the evening hours.

I kept my back turned to him and took a sip of blood from the crystal I was holding. Stefan waited for me to reply, so I replied to make him leave, "That's fantastic, little brother. Have fun mating."

There was no reason to see his face. I already knew he was giving me his usual frown of disapproval.

"I don't go to see her just for that purpose, Damon," Stefan spoke once again like he was informing me.

Taking another sip of blood, I turned to face him with a wry smile and replied dryly, "I'm sure it's not."

Stefan turned to leave, calling back to me, "If you need anything-"

"I'm sure I won't, Dad," I returned his call with a joke before he could finish.

He shut the door and I was left alone in our giant, antique abode.

I'm bored and I'm angry. What to do? What to do...

:-:

Tyler Lockwood

I sat in my father's study that night and drank myself numb.

The irony was that I was usually numb before I started drinking.

Carol, or mother, as she would probably correct me, was out with friends. Mason and Dad were dead. I was all alone in a giant, antique family mansion with nothing to do and no one to fuck.

What the fuck was I even doing in my father's study? I hated him, yet I could think of no better place to expel my sins and drown my sorrows.

I smelled something. It was metallic. It came in through my nose and seemed to fill my mouth like a strong drink. It was like the taste of a penny.

"Hello?" I called out to no one.

There was no answer. I put the bottle of liquor I was consuming down and I braced myself to get up. Strangely, it was easy.

Guess now that I'm cursed, it was going to take more to get me drunk.

Seemed like I could blame anything strange that happened to me on the curse now. Whatever that meant. I looked around but saw nothing, so I started to leave. Something dark in the far corner caught my eye, and I turned to face it.

Damon Salvatore. Again.

He came at me before I could take in a breath. He moved at blinding speed and managed to grab my left arm and twist it behind my back, while simultaneously ripping my shirt open in front with his other hand. Before I knew it, he had me bent over my father's desk and his swollen groin was pressed up against my backside.

What the fuck was happening? Had I passed out? Was I dreaming?

"Like what you feel?" Damon asked wickedly, feigning a thrust against the fabric of my jeans to tease me.

This didn't feel like a dream. He definitely didn't feel like a dream. This had to be real.

"What the fuck are you?" I asked, trying to think of a way to get out of his iron grip.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against my ear, telling me in just above a whisper, "I'm a vampire...and you're a werewolf."

I pulled away from him and he surprisingly let me go. I stood up and whirled around to face him, crying out, "How do you know about that?"

He chuckled passively and replied with a question of his own, "What? The vampire part is okay but you're upset because I know your not-so-well-hidden secret?"

I hadn't really thought of that. I knew that vampires were real after Caroline told me what she was, and I had just seen how fast Damon was, but I didn't understand what he was doing in my house in the middle of the night. Unless...

"Are you here to kill me?" I asked, the fury rising inside of me.

Damon rolled his eyes, looking away from me like he was getting bored with my questions. He answered shortly, "No. Not yet, at least."

"Then...have you come here to fuck me?" I asked, my fury turning into a mix of guilt and longing.

Facing me with a cocky half-smile, Damon replied simply, "I'm not sure, yet."

He lunged at me again, but this time, I sensed he was coming. I grabbed a silver letter opener from my father's desk and swung it at Damon when he got close. It went into his right peck just underneath his collar bone. Damon cried out and fell back onto the floor.

Oh God, what did I just do?

Damon let out one last moan of pain, then his entire body went limp.

Oh God! I killed him! Oh God! Oh God!

I panicked, rushing down to help him. I reached for the letter opener and pulled it out slowly. Damon didn't move. I shook him, but he wouldn't wake. I swallowed hard and leaned down to listen to him breath, unsure if vampires actually breathed...

He grabbed my left shoulder with one hand and wrapped his other hand around the letter opener, which was still in my grip. He turned my hand so that the point of the letter opener was facing me, Damon's blood glinting against the silver. I locked eyes with Damon, and he asked apathetically, "The bite of a werewolf kills vampires. I wonder what the blood of a vampire does to a wolf?"

I felt the letter opener pierce my skin. Damon stabbed me in the same place where I had stabbed him. The letter opener went clean through, and I cried out in agony. Damon watched my eyes inquisitively, his own ice blue eyes widening as he saw something he didn't expect.

Falling away from him, I hit the floor and reached for the letter opener to pull it out. I almost had it, when a wave of something came over me and flooded my brain and my insides with a sensation I had never experienced before.

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy.

I was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My body was like a million little pieces and I could feel and sense and know everything at once.

I moaned and writhed within my own body. I was like both animal and human, and I could feel both at the same time. I felt invincible, eternal, and completely perfect.

Damon was suddenly standing over me. He took the letter opener and pulled it out of me. I felt some pressure, but no pain. I started laughing uncontrollably. Damon watched me for a long time, then he straightened up and said, "Huh. Guess it doesn't kill you, does it?"

He dropped the letter opener on the floor and stepped over me to leave. I arched my back to see him and called out, "Wait! Don't go! You said you wanted to fuck me!"

Damon turned back to face me with a slight frown, replying dryly, "I don't think I ever said that."

"Yes you did. Please," I begged him to stay.

He appeared expressionless, but I could just barely make out the corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked smile. He took two steps backwards until he was in the shadow of the hallway, and the metallic scent disappeared.

"FUCK!" I yelled at the silence.