Something good, oh something good, oh something good,
Oh something good tonight will make me forget about you for now
Something Good – Alt J
Stefan could say what he wanted; it didn't take away from the fact that they did actually make a ridiculous amount of noise together.
Elena was just so damn responsive, once they got going. All it took was firm hands, and a steady rhythm and Elena moaned and sighed in a way that meant Stefan was doing everything right. He may have mentioned the idea before, or maybe he rewarded her subconsciously, because he was sure at least part of Elena's response was for show.
The intended audience, he was less sure.
She got more vocal when she thought Damon was in the house. Stefan didn't know if that was because she wanted to make Damon jealous, or upset, or if Stefan was imagining she was acting different to cover the fact that he was.
He was happy, dammit. Nothing Damon could say would take that away from him.
Elena smiled up at him. He really needed to get out of his head. His body was only going through the motions while he tried to figure out what to do about Damon. He wasn't sure how to handle his argument with his brother. He was convinced Damon was trying to undermine his relationship with Elena. But Damon had never been the one to deny that sort of behavior. Stefan was actually used to Damon getting between Stefan and whoever he was dating one way or another. Most girls they met loved Stefan first, for reasons he couldn't fathom and could rarely return. But Damon had a way of luring them away until he was done with them.
Stefan knew he spent too much time worrying that Elena would leave him for Damon. His brother was an unapologetic force of nature that was wholly himself, all of the time. He understood the appeal of that, but Stefan didn't know how to replicate that confidence when he spent so much time trying to change his own inherent nature. He liked that Elena saw that in his brother. If Stefan were out of the way, the two could probably be a good fit together. And when the time came, Stefan knew that he couldn't stop her, wouldn't blame her...
Eventually everyone fell under Damon's spell.
Elena wrapped her hands around Stefan's shoulders, indicating she was close again. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Stefan tried to focus on how beautiful she looked, how good she felt as he moved inside her tight slickness, the way her arousal made her blood pulse under his hands.
It wasn't working. Stefan was so anxious about his brother he was surprised he could keep himself hard enough to do the work, much less get to some sort of finish. They had been at it long enough to get flipped around in bed. Their heads were at the foot, the sheets twisted up somewhere on the floor. She was lost in pleasure, and didn't notice the door to Stefan's room opened.
A sliver of light cut across the floor where the door opened a few inches. Stefan looked up, wary his brother had come to interrupt again, but he could only make out a fraction of Damon's silhouette.
Damon stood completely still and silent with his eyes half opened. His face was expressionless, and Stefan knew this visit wasn't like the others.
His hips stuttered—eyes glued to any trace of acknowledgement in Damon. It made Elena gasp, her focus still riveted to their machinations.
"Oh my god, yes."
If Stefan hadn't been staring, he would have missed Damon flinch, eyes opening with blinking confusion. His eyes scanned the room—the discarded sheet—the bed—the ceiling—Stefan's bare body—Elena's beneath him—then back to Stefan's face. He held Stefan's gaze, the flash of bewilderment quickly tampered down.
They continued like that for moments that felt like eons. Stefan should have felt upset, or self-conscious, but it wasn't the first time Damon had walked in on him. It was the first time Damon stayed. Their eyes stayed locked on each other and all Stefan could see was smoldering heat in Damon's guarded features. His body flickered with sensation, a flood of urgent want overcoming him. The piercing intensity of his brother's gaze was digging up a train of thought Stefan kept locked away and buried deep. He arched his chest and rolled his hips, pretending not to prove something. He didn't know what. Everything else fell away.
His cock throbbed, and his hips thrust harder, out of his control.
He didn't know what this was, what this meant. He opened his mouth to say as much when Elena moved her hands over Stefan's body, up to his shoulders.
"Stefan please, I can't anymore. I'm too sensitive. You have to slow down." Her breathy inhale stole his attention.
Startled, Stefan froze. He looked down at what he was doing. Elena's thighs spread farther than where she was usually comfortable, her face relaxed now that she had a few orgasms, but the start of wrinkle in her forehead formed where she was growing concerned Stefan hadn't heard her. He looked up again, but Damon was gone and the door pulled shut.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry." He ran his hands over her legs, as he made sure everything was where it should be.
"It's okay," Elena smiled, dopey. "I didn't realize you'd been holding out on me before. That was really hot."
Her approval failed at soothing him. Nodding without any real recognition of what she said, Stefan glanced at his door again, wondering what the hell had just happened.
