Things Are Complicated

He could smell the beer on him. Beer and male teen. Standing at the foot of the bed he watched Jeremy sleep. The young male was restless in his slumber, twitching, moaning. He was tempted to enter the dream, to see the cause of such distress.

But he had had a shit day himself. Elena and her fucking need to rescue his ungrateful sibling. And then. Stefan saving him from that freak. Humiliating. He could have taken down that deranged hybrid without his brother's intervention, he was sure of it. He had just needed a few more minutes. Trust Stefan to further indenture him.

And damn Elena. She obviously was concerned about him, hadn't wanted him hurt. Or killed. A month ago he would have been thrilled to know she cared. But now he just felt conflicted. And annoyed.

Besides, what the hell had Jeremy been doing with that blond bimbo? And why was the young man passed out in his own bed rather than lying naked, waiting at the boarding house for him as arranged?

Elena was in the next room, he could hear her moving about. Undressing, climbing into bed, tossing and turning. She would be reliving the fruitless search for Stefan and the werewolf pack. Or perhaps she couldn't shake the image of the hybrid attacking. Maybe, he thought viciously, she was dreaming of him. He certainly hoped so. It would serve her tortured soul right.

Returning his attention to the bundled form lying tangled in the sheets, he thought back to that first time he had lain on Jeremy's bed. The night Jeremy had first kissed him.

Jeremy continued to laugh, flopping onto his back. "I can't believe I just kissed Damon Salvatore. Of all people. Or should I say, of all vampires?" He sounded extremely, annoyingly, pleased with himself, as if he had just succeeded at a party dare.

"Well, I'm glad I was able to amuse you" he responded huffily, also turning onto his back. Staring up at the ceiling he wondered why he was so bothered by the teen's response to their kiss.

Jeremy must have caught his tone because the youngster instantly turned, hoisted himself onto his elbow and leaned over him. "What? Didn't you think it was kind of strange? Kissing a guy, I mean? Or have you kissed guys before?" The teen sounded curious, a bit anxious.

"No, Jeremy. I have not kissed a guy before. At least, not like that. And, no. I didn't find it strange. I actually liked you kissing me. And I could have sworn that you liked it too. So whatever, man. However, I did tell you that I wouldn't run back to Andi. And I didn't, did I? In fact, I wouldn't have stopped. I would have kept kissing you."

He could have sworn Jeremy blushed at that point. The young man briefly closed his eyes. "Damon." He started. Stopped. Seemed to be searching for words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, to make fun of you. I guess I was just nervous, freaked out a little. Dude. I don't know. I've never really thought about making out with a guy. And it was weird. Maybe not bad-weird. But definitely weird."

"OK, OK," he growled impatiently. "I get it. It was weird. You're not into me. You don't need to go on about it. I'll leave you alone." He made to get up. Was pulled back down, abruptly, hastily.

They were kissing again. This time with fire, vehemence. Jeremy was holding nothing back now, lips searching, commanding, tongue dominating. He felt the heat start again. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. As if acting on their own volition, his fingers ran through Jeremy's hair, cupped his neck to draw him closer.

Jeremy had somehow removed both their shirts. He was amazed at how sexy it was to feel a hard, muscular chest against his. Little Jeremy had certainly bulked up over the summer, he thought, as he bent to trace a pec with his lips. The teen's heart was pounding in his ear, like waves crashing over a rocky shore.

He made his way down the defined abdomen, admiring the form and feel of Jeremy. He decided he liked kissing a male torso. He could feel muscles flexing as his tongue licked at them, smiled each time Jeremy gasped when he nipped gently at taut, firm skin.

Suddenly he was up against a denim waistband. OK. Now what? Judging by the way Jeremy was pulling at his hair, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving, he would venture a guess that Jeremy was cool with what was currently taking place.

But what would happen if he kept going? Because, God help him, he wanted to keep going. Yet what if Jeremy freaked out again, pushed him away? He would be right back to square one. Without a back-up plan.

Almost as if reading his mind, Jeremy whispered, albeit sounding somewhat embarrassed, (or was it shy?), "Go for it, man. If you think I'm going to tell you to stop at this point, you're crazy."

Alright! The lad was courageous. Or extremely horny. Either way, he was grateful for the encouragement. Because his own dick was hard enough to cut glass right now. And he needed some relief. Trying to use human speed only, he made quick work of Jeremy's fly. The boy bridged as his jeans were hoisted down over his hips and off.

Holy shit. Jeremy-fucking-Gilbert, lying naked and rock hard, on his back, eyes closed in slight trepidation, waiting for him, Damon Salvatore, to suck his dick. Who knew? He almost wished that Elena would walk in at this moment. It would be perfect.

Except it would fuck everything up. Because, truth-be-told, he was hot to do this. Wanted him in his mouth. Wanted to taste him, to pull on him, to get him as hard as he was right at this moment.

He hoped he didn't mess up. Having only been on the receiving end of blowjobs, he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. On straightened arms, he studied Jeremy's erection from a distance. The guy definitely had length. And girth. Nice one, he mused, high-fiving Jeremy in his mind. OK, OK, he admonished himself, down to business.

But how, where to start? Christ, it can't be that hard (no pun intended), he just needed to do to Jeremy what he liked having done to himself. Right? Simple. OK. Here goes nothing, he thought, surprised to find himself feeling a bit anxious.

Jeremy's voice startled him, breaking his concentration. "Damon. For crying out loud. What the hell are you waiting for? Christmas, for Christ's sake? I'm dying here. Literally. Seriously, dude. You'll be working a lot harder if you hold out on me much longer."

"Sorry," he muttered, "First time jitters." Jeremy laughed at that. "Damon Salvatore nervous. This night just keeps getting better and better. Now make the evening complete and blow me. Again, literally." The kid was a joker.

Sticking his hand down his pants, he grabbed his cock for moral courage, began to stroke himself as he bent over Jeremy. The second his lips landed, he knew it was going to be OK. Great in fact.

God, he wanted to consume him. Jeremy's cock was hard, swollen and tasted fantastic. Sweaty, salty, and slightly sour. He couldn't get all of him in his mouth fast enough. His tongue licked precum and moistened the way for his lips to glide easily down Jeremy's heavy shaft. Oh my God. This was amazing! Instantly, he was grateful for his lack of gag reflex as Jeremy unexpectedly thrust up into his waiting mouth.

He drew his lips tightly around Jeremy's cock as the teen rocked himself out and in, seeking the moist heat again and again. Reveled in the moans and cries of 'holy shit' and 'fuck, Damon.' Over and over. God, he thought amused, the boy sure was vocal in the sack. Figured. The dark, silent types usually were.

He could feel himself getting close to the edge. He couldn't help but employ a little vampire-speed to his hand, dragging it up and down his own dick. He was slick, wet and he'd never wanted to come so badly in his life.

Jeremy was about to blow his load. He could tell, he recognized that pre-orgasmic muscle tenseness, the stillness, the clutching of hands, the sharp intake of breath.

And Jeremy had been right about one thing. It definitely was kinda weird being on the other side of a blowjob. But super cool in that he knew exactly how Jeremy was feeling and how fucking great they both were going to feel in about thirty seconds.

Jeremy stirred, open his eyes sleepily. He could see him trying to focus in the dim light. "Is that you, Damon? Sorry man. I fell asleep. Matt brought beer and things got strange. I guess I passed out."

'Hmm.' He didn't like the sound of that. 'Strange? What the hell did that mean?' Aloud he whispered, "Shhh. You'll wake your sister. I just wanted to make sure you were OK. I'll go, leave you to sleep." He turned towards the window, planning to exit the way he'd come in.

"No" murmured Jeremy, still struggling into full consciousness. "Come here, I need some distraction from the nightmare I was having." The teen threw back the covers invitingly.

"Well, alright." He grudgingly but obligingly undressed and crawled in beside the warm, relaxed body. Kissed Jeremy on his sleep-swollen lips. "But keep it down. You don't want Elena interrupting us at a critical moment." And realized he actually meant it, he didn't want Elena finding out about this. Whatever this was.

Jeremy only laughed and rolled him over onto his stomach. Whispered into his ear, "Oh yeah? We'll just see who ends up biting the pillow. And we both know it's going to be you, Salvatore."

The worst of it? The kid was right. Shit. Jeremy was kissing the back of his neck, stroking his traitorous, rapidly hardening cock. It felt soooo good. Too good. Damn it, he needed a new plan.