Finally! The last chapter. Thanks to the few but kind reviewers and the many others who have been reading along. Hopefully the last few shows of the season will give me some new slash writing ideas! In the meantime, I'll just keep reading...
A century and a half. Nearly one hundred and fifty years. Since he'd been alive. Felt alive. This alive. Every pore of his being breathed. And he was definitely feeling things. Physically. Emotionally. The heightened senses of vampires had kicked in. Pulling his human qualities to the brink and over the edge. This couldn't be happening. With Damon. The two of them. But it was happening. And it was the best.
Sex with humans was good. Sometimes even better than good. But humans were fragile. Always the need for restraint. To not crush them. To avoid breaking ribs or damaging delicate body parts. To prevent from killing them. Not simply because of their physical frailty. But because of their scent. Humans sexually aroused. Blood surging, engorging. It was almost impossible not to succumb to the fangs fighting to feed. To bite. To suck. To surrender to the vampire nature.
Stefan had learned to pull back. But not at first. Control had come slowly. Not always easily. And now, with Elena. Sex. The constant battle between his love for her and his lust for her humanness. Always needing to hold back. Ever on his guard. Ever careful. Because he did love her. Didn't want to hurt her. Physically. But, in his self-control, he knew she felt he was withholding part of himself. And he was. Because he had to. And it was hard. And it took its toll.
But vampire sex? This was wild. Crazy. Otherworldly. Extreme. Almost indescribable. No worries. No cares. Just pleasure. Pure fucking fantastic over the top pleasure. Physically and psychologically. His human body. Coupled with vampire sensations. Vampire physicality. Pure bliss.
Damon over him, on him, under him, in him. Hard. Pounding. Always moving. Always touching. His mouth. His tongue. His hands. Those fingers. That knew exactly how to stroke, tease, pull him along. Damon may have had pedestrian sexual experiences but he certainly had perfected what he knew. And he was using all he had. And Stefan responded. He lost himself in Damon and in the night.
Damon wondered. How had this not happened before? How had he not known that this would be it? That being with his brother could do all this? Could fade the world and all its disappointments? That the pain of Katherine could dissipate, vanish even? That the hurt of Elena could be smoothed, eased? That jealousy, envy could be exposed and disposed of so easily? Being with his brother was like, well, like nothing else. It was everything and all things. Stefan was everything.
Hours gone. The room casting pre-dawn shadows. The two now sequestered in Stefan's room. Sheets and blankets scattered over the bed and floor. The brothers exhausted but unwilling to separate. Tangled together. Bruises forming on pale, perfect skin. Muscles aching. Lips swollen. Minds at rest. At peace.
Loath to face the day, reality. Both realizing that a conversation had to occur. Words had to define what the night had brought. What the masks coming off had revealed. Left unspoken, their thoughts would redefine, twist, and change what had transpired between them. And neither wanted to go back. Back to the hatred, the hurt. This new feeling of love, belonging, sharing. This was what was important. Two, bonded in a world not designed for their kind, was better than single-handedly facing the enemy. So much better than fighting immortality alone.
Damon forced himself into a sitting position. Leaned back against the headboard. Glanced sideways at his brother. Who was lying on his side. Facing away from Damon. Damon sighed. Loudly. Fought to organize his thoughts. To lend some semblance of logic to the situation. That could be put into words. Failed. Sighed. Rolled his eyes. Sighed again. Wished he still smoked.
"Stop sighing" muttered the other vampire into the pillow, "It's irritating. Just say it."
"What am I supposed to be saying? That you're still hot in the harsh morning light? That your post coital pillow talk is 'all that'? Or how about, thanks for the mind-blowing sex but I'm not looking for anything more than a hook up? Or, I'll call you? Or…."
Stefan interrupted, "Very funny. No. Just say what happened last night. Why it happened. That last night was the result of us both being in a very bad place. And that we needed each other. To help each other get through it. That our relationship is, um, complex. That we love each other, even while we hate each other. That Katherine and Elena further complicate us. That being a vampire fucking sucks at times and that it's reassuring to be with someone who understands that and knows what it's like. That our life is exhausting and often seems futile. And that I needed you because you get that."
"But then also say that it can't happen again. That we have to move forward, put this behind us. That we can let this time pull us closer together, allow us to be better. Better at being brothers. That you can just let things be sometimes. And now trust that I have your back. That I care about you. Always." Stefan rolled over to face Damon. "Just say that."
Damon sighed, deeply, a long, drawn out, out loud sigh. Glanced quickly down at Stefan. Laughed, pulling a face. "Sorry. Couldn't help it. OK. I'll say all that. But can I also say that was the most fucking amazing sex I have ever had? And that this business about it never happening again seems a little extreme. Seriously. What harm could possibly come of the occasional tryst? A few do-overs?" Stefan reached over and punched Damon on the arm, playfully but with some force. "Ow" laughed Damon, I'm just saying."