A/N: Oh my god. I should be studying for midterms! AHHH!

Thank you so much for all the reviews and feedback I heard! You guys make my heart go "boom ba doom ba doom ba doom ba doom, super bass." Jk jk, I apologize for that. Dx

Mason, Elena's dance partner, decided to ditch Elena because she wouldn't give him "some". While practicing at night, she hears a mysterious tap dancer and maybe, just maybe he has the potential to be her new dance partner!

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, just a plot. All rights go to their true owners. Just a fan of Vampire Diaries.

The mop moved fluidly over the floor. An occasional sound of slopping echoed through the hall, but other than that, it was silent throughout the dance studios.

He had come into the studio late at night. No one could seem him working. One, it was at night. Two, the dance studios were on the far north side of campus, where no one went unless it was mandatory.

Coming in, he went over to his "office" aka the janitor's closet where he inserted a slightly rusting key into the lock. A quick turn to the right, a jiggle, and a slight slam above the door knob and the door hinged open.

He let a sigh escape his lips before quirking into a somewhat pathetic smirk. Picking up a bucket, he filled it up to the rim in the dingy sink that dripped constantly throughout the day and night. Adding the detergent to it, he poured the bucket's content into the mop bucket. Picking up his handy dandy mop, he dunked it into the water, a loud "splosh" before starting to roll it out into the hallway.

He worked diligently, quietly most of the time. The hours weren't too long. The pay was a good amount above minimum wage. In all, it made ends meet. Most of the time.

Earphones safely bought him away from reality to a world where it was of his own. The music loudly bought him solitude while the world heard nothing. Broad strokes across the tile floors, cleaning up the dirt from throughout the day. What a glamorous life.

The clash of the drum and the acapella voices took over his earphones, but he couldn't help but smile and want to sing along.

"I'm singin' in the rain. Just singin' in the rain!" He let his voice project throughout the hallways as he picked up his feet.

He memorized this dance. He memorized every step, every beat.

"Gene Kelly was always my favorite. He was just so handsome, and smooth!" The sound of his mother's voice echoed clearly through his mind.

A sad smile etched on his face as he spun the mop around in his hand.

"What a glorious feeling and I'm happy again!"

The responsibilities eased away from him. The social pressure slithered away. The memories washed back over him, and he let himself just enjoy the moment.

"When the war has took its part. When the world has dealt its cards. If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart. Cause I! I'm singin' in the rain! Just singin' in the rain! What a glorious feeling and I'm happy again."

His voice hit the notes, the peaks, the lows, and his feet glided across the floor with a mop in his hand as if it was no trouble.

"Under my umbrella! It's raining. Ooh baby it's raining. Baby come here to me. Come here to me. It's raining. Oh baby it's raining!"

The few flickers of water drops that escaped the mop's head hit against his skin, but he tried to ignore that fact. The fact that dirty water was raining upon his skin.

Hitting that last step, he heard a fit of giggles.

His cerulean eyes flickered up to meet a sight of a fury of brown hair.

His eyes widened in fear and embarrassment for a quick second, before quickly covering it up with an indifferent face.

When the fit of giggles has subsided, a pair of brown eyes peeked over from behind her hands. His eyes wandered from the top to the bottom of the sight before him. Brown wavy hair, a petite yet strong lean body, covered in one sleeve blue lacy top and black leggings, barefoot, and a pair of brown eyes he knew would give him hell.

"Damon Salvatore. Singing in the rain!" She tried to stifle her laugh as much as possible, but she just couldn't. Damon's response was quiet as he tried putting his rage under control.

"Studio closed an hour ago," his voice had drawled out, in a flat cold tone. He shoved the mop back into the bucket. His eyes void of any emotion other than annoyance at her.

His tone had cut Elena's laughter short. He had taken this the wrong way. All of the sudden, Elena turned shy and had forgotten all speech. Her head bowed down, her eyes darted to the ground, her left arm clutching her right elbow in an awkward stance.

"Sorry I didn't mean to… I just… It was just odd to see you –" She never got to finish her sentence.

"Yeah I get it. Big shot Salvatore is a fucking janitor in his spare time," Damon's voice spit venomously out at her.

Her brown doe eyes widened in shock as she looked up at him, her mouth gaping, crimson blush quickly etched across her cheeks before looking back down.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect it. I mean, for you to have such talent on the field. Talent in dancing and singing. Nothing about the janitor part, I swear. The song choice… it's Glee… I never expected Damon Salvatore to listen to Glee," Elena had mumbled all at once.

His eyebrows furrowed in hesitation on what to say. He wasn't sure on what to say at this point.

"Yeah well," Damon's voice wandered off in the end. He gripped the mop's wooden handle and twisted nervously in his hand.

"I'd appreciate it if you told no one about… this," he said softly as he started to push the bucket back and forth slightly on its wheels.

"About the dancing, singing, or the janitor part?" Elena's innocent eyes met his once again, a mistake on her part because he had taken her breath away.

"Everything."

The simple word let to complete silence again.

Elena's toe poked at the ground awkwardly in front of her. Damon Salvatore, probably the most popular guy on campus, not to mention the fact that he was the most talented athlete Mystic Falls University had. Leading striker and scorer for the team, there were rumors about how he being recruited for big teams like the Chicago Fires, San Jose Earthquakes, Real Salt Lake, and Kansas City. Apparently that would only be his club team off season until he made the Olympic team. He was that good. She even heard that he could have gone and played for Maryland or North Carolina, the best college soccer teams in the US, but for some reason he had turned that down. There really wasn't much known about Damon. He was a junior majoring in physical sport therapy. He was currently the nation's leading scorer and had a big future laid out for him.

All the girls fawned over him and for good reasons too. Sure, athletes somehow gained attractiveness points just by the pure fact they were an athlete, but Damon was something different. Plus ten points for the gorgeous body that was outlined in his slightly wet white v-neck t-shirt and black jeans which just emphasized how fit he was. Plus three points for the slight stubble that decorated itself around his jaw, adding to his sex appeal. Plus another three points for the sexily messed hair that draped itself across his forehead. And the jackpot, plus two hundred points for his amazing azure eyes that made the world seem to stop spinning. His personality on the other hand... might need some work. She heard who he was a cocky douchebag, sarcastic, blunt. Basically, he never had a nice thing to say.

But by god, his footwork. It was perfection. Neat, exact, his movements fluid and passionate. Another blush crossed her face as she thought how amazing he would be in bed if he could dance like that. Sweet potatoes, what was wrong with her right now?

"I've got to finish cleaning up," Damon said gruffly, bringing Elena out of her fictional point system world and back to reality.

He started pushing his mop bucket past her when she reached out and grabbed his arm.

All bitterness and anger Damon was feeling before, dissipated immediately. A shudder quickly passed through his body, and he let out a breath he had no idea he had been holding.

His eyes flickered back up and he finally caught the full blown effect of her eyes. People always argued that his eyes were beautiful. He disagreed in every way. Brown eyes were the most beautiful. Each pair, differentiated from each other in their own way, without pointing out the obvious of "oh, blue and brown, durr." Her eyes burned with fierceness, her eyes showed of a hot stubborn girl, her eyes shined with persistence. Damn, something was coming. He just knew it.

"Dance with me."

This time, it was Damon who burst out into laughter.

"You're shittin' me, right?" Damon's laughter finally subsided after what seemed like ages later.

"Dance with you? Listen, babe, I thought you knew this when you said my name. I'm Damon Salvatore. I'm a SOC-CER PLAY-ER," Damon enunciated his role very clearly. "I don't do dance. I don't have time for dance," Damon shrugged his shoulders before attempting to turn around and leave.

Op (gangham style!), there it was. That fierce persistence look was flaming. She stepped in front of him, trying to block his way, but let's admit it, Damon was bigger and stronger. The face of amusement was posed on his face, a smug look dominated his profile.

"Look, I get it. You're a big soccer player, I'm a dance who has been basically nonexistent to you. But I need a dancer, a male dancer. You have the strength, you have basic dance skills, and you're talented. I've seen you play. The footwork can be easily applied!" Elena gestured with her hands as she tried to build out a solid foundation of support for her argument.

Damon's eyebrow perked in amusement.

"And what would be in it for me?" He said smoothly as he stalked towards her in a predatory way. Her eyes widened, her innocence shining through as she could hear the sexual innuendo dripping from that statement.

Caught flush against the wall today, the second time today although she couldn't complain with who it was this time, Damon pressed his body close against hers. A hand rested gently on her hip, his forearm resting against the cool white concrete walls that she rested against.

This close, she caught his features. His lips that always seemed to be peaked into a faint ghost of a smirk, his eyebrows that were partners in crime with his eyes to display his emotion, his nose which was inching closer and closer to her own. Her breath hitched as the smell of his aftershave and deodorant washed over her.

"I'm a busy guy. Things to do, such little time," heavily emphasis on the "do" part.

Elena gulped quietly before looking up into his eyes. She steeled herself not to fall apart into a puddle at his feet.

"I'm sure you can fit in an hour or two of practice with me," her breath caressed against his jaw, making him forget how to properly form words for a bit.

"I start classes at nine and finish at five-thirty. Right after that is soccer practice from six to nine at night. Then I come here and put my hours of work in. Wash, rinse, repeat for the week. Weekends consist of morning practice from seven to twelve and my nights… well, I have socializing events to attend." Damon smirked before cocking his head at her.

"Now where would I find the time for you?" Damon posed the question for her. His nose almost brushing against her cheek, his eyes downcast on her collarbone, wondering if he could just lean in for a nibble, a kiss.

Elena's heart rate was accelerating at an abnormal pace, the sexual powers that Damon oozed made her want to throw her morals out the window and have them just do it right here, on the now, slightly wet floor.

"Come at nine. We'll practice until ten-thirty. In return, I'll help you clean the studio. I can even get a head start. I usually come here at eight," Elena, this time, said confidently.

Damon finally broke his eyes away from her skin and looked up at her.

"Hmm… you owe me one. Whatever I say, you have to agree to it, no matter what." Damon's lips broke into a smile which showed her those pearly whites.

She contemplated over it. God, what would he want from her? Obviously, not sex. He could get that from any girl. Oh my… what if he wanted her to do something illegal? The panic started to overtake her body, when she remembered the main purpose behind this proposal. Tisch.

"Deal." Elena snaked her hand from between their bodies and held it out for him to shake.

Damon looked at the hand and firmly grasped it, pumping the hands up and down twice before bringing her hand up to his lips, letting it brush lightly across the back of her palm.

"We'll start the day after. I have… an obligation tomorrow. Now scram, kid. Studio closed an hour ago."

With that, Damon walked away with his mop bucket.

Elena swallowed loudly before sliding back down the wall. Damon Salvatore was her dance partner. Ugh, what had she done?

A/N: It was Damon! Did you guys suspect that? I was kinda hope you would since this is a DELENA story after all. Hehehe.

I have the next chapter planned out and ouuu, it's going to be good because I'm loving what's about to go down next chapter. Want a hint? ;)

You should give me a review! Because then I'll send you a personal PM back and I'll be like "errmahhgawd, thanks so in the next chapter there will be _"

Although, it's not like I'm bribing you per say...

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