Author's Note: Alright, lovely readers, sit back and buckle your seat belts, it's going to be a long, bumpy ride. I have never written a chapter this long, and I debated so much about breaking this up, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. All of this stuff was just best left in one chapter. Again, it's super long, so bring food and water. This is the chapter I've been most excited about since I started this story and I really like it. I hope you all like it as well. I listened to the song Bloom by The Paper Kites pretty much on repeat for most of this chapter, so if you like music with your chapters, check that out. Enjoy! Read and review!
Chapter 8
Oh, the whole world is sleeping
But my world is you
Can I be close to you?
Stefan groaned as he deposited his empty shot glass on the coffee table. "I think we've had enough shots for now." He leaned forward and rested his head on his hands. It was a sad reminder that Stefan actually knew how to hold his liquor once upon a time. Then he fell head over heels in love with Caroline and got all domesticated, and now calls it a night after a handful of shots. Normally he would make fun of him, but today he needed the other Stefan to come out, the one that could have fun.
"There's no such thing," Damon insisted as he grabbed for the bottle of scotch. Before he could get his hand around it, Stefan reached out and pulled it across the table. "What the hell?"
"If you have to get drunk on your wedding day, there's a problem." Stefan's bleary eyes met his over the table and Damon's blue orbs flared in anger.
"I thought we were going to drop this. You have my back, remember?" Damon challenged his brother on the promise he'd made less than an hour ago. He could write a screenplay with all of the thoughts going through his brother's head right now, he didn't need them verbalized. He knew that Stefan wasn't truly on board with everything that was happening right now, but he just needed him to smile and fake it. He just needed his brother to tell him that he was doing the right thing.
"I do have your back," Stefan grit out. "That's why you need to get your head out of the sand and actually acknowledge what the hell is going on around you. The love of your life asked you to not get married and you sent her away."
Damon shoved a finger in Stefan's direction. "With your help! And don't call her the love of my life. I seem to remember you yelling at her not too long ago."
"You were practically begging me to tell her to leave. And Elena had it coming after everything that went down, but it doesn't mean I'm too stupid to realize what's really going on around me."
"Exactly! I wanted her to leave!" Damon was on his feet in an instant, staring down at his brother, as Alaric seemed to melt into the chair he was sitting in. After years of knowing the Salvatore brothers, he knew far better than to intervene in times like these. He was only going to step in if one of them tried to throw a punch, and as Damon stared down at his brother's face, he realized that Alaric's intervention might very well be needed in a few moments. "I wanted her to leave, Stefan! My answer was no! Elena made her choice the second she walked out of our house three years ago. I told her that if she went to Chicago, we were over. She left! I can't control the fact that she hasn't moved on."
"Oh, cause you didn't do anything that might encourage her in this past year?" Stefan was out of his seat now, his voice raised as he shouted at his brother.
"What do you care?" Damon yelled. "You barely said a word to her for a month when she got back. You don't want me back together with Elena, so sit down, shut up, and do your job as a best man!"
"Of course I don't want you with her! She broke your heart! You are my brother and I spent months dragging you out of bars and putting you to up in my guest bedroom. My feelings on you and Elena don't matter though. What matters are your feelings. If you still feel anything for Elena you can't go through with this and you know it."
Damon stalked around the coffee table to stand in front of Stefan. "What I know is that you're my brother and I need you to have my fucking back!" He punctuated his shouting with roughly shoving his palms against Stefan's chest. "Have my back!"
"Okay, guys, I think you need to break this up." Alaric rushed over from his chair and tried to intervene between the brothers.
"Shut up, Ric!" they both yelled at the same time before focusing their attention back on the other.
Stefan had stumbled back a few feet from Damon's shove, but he quickly recovered to shove Damon in return. "I do have your back!" He shoved Damon again. "This is me having your back!"
The disagreement between brothers was now a full-on shoving match. They were no longer grown men, but children again that would shove each other relentlessly until one brother gave in and threw the first punch. "This is you being a condescending asshole!" Damon shoved at Stefan's chest and stepped toward him as he stumbled backwards. "Saint Stefan!" He shoved Stefan in his chest again, daring him to throw the first punch. "My life is fucking perfect, so I have to tell my idiot older brother what a mess he's making of his life!"
When Damon tried to shove Stefan again, he pushed Damon's arms out of the way. "If that were true, I would have told you in Vegas not to sleep with Elena, because it was the absolute worst possible time for either of you to be in a relationship. And look where it got you!"
The front door slammed the same moment Damon's arm was swinging around to land a solid punch to Stefan's face. The interruption brought both brothers to a halt. They turned to see Caroline standing just inside the suite. Her blue eyes bounced between the brothers, an expectant look on her face. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" Damon and Stefan looked at each other then back to Caroline, but both stayed silent. "One of you better start talking. Now!"
Damon never thought it would be possible, but he wanted to leave Las Vegas. He wanted to pack his bag, charter the private plane, and fly back to New York. He'd fly the plane himself if it would get him out of this disaster zone as soon as possible. What was supposed to be a weekend of debauchery was shaping up to be a weekend of silence filled conversations and more avoidance than Carmen San Diego.
It was as if someone had had asked him what would be his absolute worst nightmare for a weekend in Vegas and made it happen. The only thing that could make the weekend worse was if Katherine was along for the ride. From the moment everyone showed up at the airport that afternoon, tensions had been running high.
Elena was practically burning holes in the back of his head, but she hadn't said a word to him yet. Bonnie was attached at the hip to her, probably making sure that he couldn't seduce the innocence out of her – as if she had any left at this point. Mason was probably two seconds away from giving him a black eye. He obviously was still mad about his comment at the engagement party, while his wife avoided looking at him at all costs. Caroline and Stefan were the surprises though. He expected to spend at least half of his weekend carrying a trashcan around as his plus one due to their incessant PDA. However, they'd been oddly distant. Everything seemed fine, but he hadn't had the desire to gauge his eyes out once in the past eight hours.
Blondie, he didn't care so much about, but Stefan was who had him worried. There was something going on with his brother. He was in the stage where he was still faking like everything was fine, when everything obviously wasn't. And knowing his brother like he did, he knew what the next phase was going to be. Thanks to the genetic gods out there, he had been stuck with Stefan as his little brother. And what did little brothers do when something was wrong in their life? Piss off their older brother of course. He didn't know when it would come, but it would come, and if he didn't figure out the problem before his patience ran out, it would end in a fight.
He suspected Caroline would kick him out of the wedding for good if he kicked his brother's ass.
So, yeah, he really wanted to go home.
"Damon." He cringed as he heard her speak softly behind him. He was standing in what was designated as his room in the spacious four-bedroom penthouse at the hotel. He'd been standing in front of the window for 10 minutes, staring out at the strip, trying to come up with any way to make it through the weekend. Talking to Elena was not one of the ideas that had run through his head. "You can't play deaf," she said quietly, when he didn't acknowledge her.
With a sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to face her. "What do you want Elena?"
Her face fell at the cool tone in his voice and he mentally cursed himself for feeling even the tiniest bit bad about it. He was the one that had been honest from the very beginning. Why was he the bad guy because he actually said what he wanted? Maybe it wasn't romantic or epic like so many girls seemed to want, but it was honest. After going through the divorce with Katherine, he'd learned that the Hollywood romance ideas didn't keep a relationship afloat. Any relationship, friendship or romantic, had to be built on honesty and trust. He'd given that to Elena and it was all he'd asked for in return. It would have sucked if she didn't really want to sleep with him, but as long as she was honest, he wouldn't have really cared.
She took a tentative step inside his room, but she didn't look comfortable or at ease like she normally was in his presence. "I haven't talked to you all week."
"I told you to call me when you grew a backbone. Have you?"
"Stop it," she admonished him, and while he sometimes might listen to her and try to be a little nicer, he wasn't in the mood to be the good guy today. Nobody believed he was, so why should he even try?
"Stop what?" he questioned. "Stop being honest? Stop telling you things that you need to hear? Stop deciding that I don't need a repeat of my relationship with Katherine?"
She visibly flinched at the mention of Katherine. "I'm not her."
"Try and rob me of 20 million dollars and you'll be pretty damn close."
She looked away, hurt by his insinuation of her. "Is that what you really think of me? I'm just messing with you for fun?"
When she looked back up at him with wounded eyes he wanted to tell her that no, he didn't really think that. She was different from Katherine in every way imaginable. However, that didn't mean that she wasn't still jerking him around, like Katherine had once done. She might not do it maliciously, but she was doing it. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know what to think. You're hot and cold and I'm sick of it. I already did this with Katherine and it didn't end well for me. I'm not doing it again."
This confession sparked something in her and she rushed across the room to come stand directly in front of him. She pressed her slender hands against his chest and stared up at him. "I don't want to be hot and cold. I really like you, Damon. It's sucked not having you around this past week." She smiled self-consciously. "I missed you."
Something pulled at him deep within his gut at her confession. She sounded heartfelt and sincere, and he couldn't ignore the vulnerability that flashed in her eyes. Was it possible that something had changed in the past week and she wanted to let loose and explore what was there with them? Or was it just going to be more of the same? He didn't want to stick around and find out.
He grabbed her hands and gently removed them from his body. "I need to go." Her face fell at his words. "Mason and I are supposed to take Stefan to the casino for a boy's night."
When Damon stepped around Elena, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. She held tightly to his arm and looked up at him. "Don't walk away."
"Have fun with the girls," he said softly and left her behind in his room.
It was a short walk across the penthouse to the room Stefan and Caroline were sharing, which had the best room and best bathroom in the place. Being the couple of honor came with some nice perks. He found Stefan sitting on the bed, staring down at his phone. When he heard footsteps, he looked up and rolled his eyes. "You finally ready to go?"
Damon groaned and rolled his eyes in return. "Yes, get your panties out of a bunch and come on."
Stefan called out to Caroline, who was in the bathroom, as he stood from the bed. "We're going out, Care. I'll see you later."
"Aren't you going to come say goodbye?" she whined from the bathroom.
"We're running late, I'll just talk to you later."
Damon eyed his brother suspiciously as they left the bedroom. He'd expected to have to forcibly pry Caroline and Stefan off of each other. "What was that about?" he questioned once they were in the hallway.
"What's going on with you and Elena?" he countered.
"Point taken," he mumbled, as they came to a stop at Mason and his wife's bedroom. He quickly knocked on the door and pushed it open, not caring that he was interrupting a conversation between Mason and his wife. "You ready to get this show on the road?"
"Yeah, let's do this," he sighed before leaning down and kissing Whitney's head. She sat up to allow him to stand up from the bed. "Have fun."
"Bye Whitney," Damon smirked as they left the room.
"Just because it's your brother's bachelor party doesn't mean I won't kick your ass," Mason threatened him.
"Relax, Mason. I have enough girl drama without adding your wife to the mix."
And because fate was not on his side tonight, Elena emerged from his bedroom at precisely that moment. She froze when she saw the three of them and her gaze caught Damon's. They looked at each other for a few moments, and just when she was about to open her mouth to speak, Damon walked past her.
When they exited the penthouse, Mason said, "I'm guessing your girl drama isn't with Katherine."
"Nope, that ship has long since sailed, along with my money and house."
"Can we not talk about your drama for one night?" Stefan snapped.
Damon pressed the down button for the elevator and turned to look with Stefan. "I don't know what your problem is, but please get it together. I don't want to deal with your hissy fit all night."
"Maybe you're my problem, Damon. I'd like to have one weekend that doesn't revolve around whatever issues you have going on with whichever female you're interested in the moment."
The elevator doors slid open in front of them and all three men piled into the small space. "Oh joy, this is gonna be a blast."
Five hours later, Damon found himself stuck on the same elevator with Mason and his brother, and he was ready to blow a gasket. As predicted, the night had been absolutely horrible. Stefan had been making snide comments all night long. Everything Damon said or did seemed to warrant commentary from Stefan, none of it being anything good.
"I bet if you tried hard enough, you could figure out a way to blame Katherine for all the money you just lost at the casino," Stefan spoke up from behind him.
Damon stared up at the numbers above the elevator door, counting down each floor that they passed, desperate to escape the vortex of hell that he'd been sucked into when he stepped off the plane earlier today. He was going to lose his damn mind.
"You need to grow up, Stefan!" Damon shouted at his brother as he exited the elevator. "I'm getting a little sick of babysitting you!" He stalked toward the penthouse, anxious to get away from his younger brother. His patience was on it's absolute last leg, and if Stefan didn't watch his mouth, it was going to be eating a fist in the near future.
He'd tried to suck it up and be nice, he really had, but enough was enough. Stefan wasn't sharing what was wrong with him, and Damon was sick of it being taken out on him. He understood that Stefan used him as the punching bag, because they were brothers and no matter what happened, Damon was never going to not be there for his brother. He needed a break though. He could start it all up again tomorrow, but tonight, he needed it to be over.
Stefan snorted in disbelief as he stalked after Damon. "Oh, I need to grow up? That's rich coming from you! You're almost 30, but you never think about the consequences of a damn thing that you do!"
Damon came to a stop at the door and turned to look at his brother who had gone well beyond his limit of drinks he should have consumed tonight. He leveled him with a dangerous look and gave him a swift warning. "You're treading on dangerous ground, Stefan. If you were anyone else, I would have laid you out hours ago. But since you're my brother, I've let it slide. You need to go inside, drink some water, and have Blondie take care of you for the rest of the night."
He turned and slid the key into the slot and waited for the light to turn green before opening the door to the penthouse. "Would you stop calling her that?" Stefan demanded from behind him as they stormed into the penthouse, Mason trailing slowly behind them, knowing more than enough than to get involved in any fighting between the brothers. He'd learned his lesson in college when he tried to intervene only to end up being hit by Stefan. Damon and Stefan had a definite case of they could say anything they wanted to about each other, but nobody even got to agree without landing in hot water.
"I only say it with love," Damon sang out. "Go to bed, Stefan. And please, for the love of God, whatever the hell is wrong with you, sleep it off."
He made his way toward his bedroom, but he couldn't even make it to the hallway before Stefan started talking again. "Love? What do you even know about love?"
He froze in his steps and released a deep sigh. "It was a joke, Stefan. Give it a rest."
"I need to give it a rest?"
"Jesus Christ!" Damon swore as he spun around on his feet and stormed back over to Stefan. "Would you stop repeating everything I say and just shut up? Or better yet, tell me what the hell your problem is. Cause I'm sick of paying the price for it."
"Here's a problem for you! I'm sick and tired of hearing about how you're going to ruin Elena and break her heart. I have to hear about that stupid drama every night from Caroline. You tell me to grow up, but I'm the one that seems to always be dragged into your relationship drama. First, it was Katherine and now I have to deal with whatever it is you have going on with Elena."
Damon held up his thumb on his right hand. "One, the Katherine thing wasn't my fault. I can't control the fact that she turned into a crazy bitch overnight." He held up his index finger on the same hand. "Two, I can't control what Caroline says, even though I'd sure like to."
"How about you do this? Stop trying to screw my fiancé's best friend!"
"Trust me, Stefan. That's the last thing I'm trying to do this weekend." He paused and tilted his head. "Actually, I just want to go home. That's all I really want out of this weekend now. I don't even want to be here."
"So go home!" Stefan shouted. "Nobody is forcing you to be here, Damon. You don't want to be here? Leave!"
There was no rhyme or reason to it, but those words were the ones that sent Damon to his breaking point. "I never even wanted to do this Vegas thing! This was all you and Caroline! So, what do I do? I spend months trying to make this perfect so I can maybe get five minutes without Caroline bitching at me, and because it's what you wanted!"
"You didn't plan a thing and you know it! This entire trip was planned by your assistant. The whole time you and Elena claimed to be working on this trip you were trying to get into her pants! Just admit it, Damon! You didn't do any of this for me. It was all about you!" Stefan stepped forward and shoved Damon roughly on his chest. "It's always about you."
He stumbled for a moment before regaining his balance and taking a menacing step toward his brother. "Watch it."
"Don't get me wrong, I can see why you'd be attracted to her," Stefan taunted. "I mean, why wouldn't you want to sleep with her? Everyone here knows she could pass for Katherine's sister. I guess if you can't have the real thing," he trailed off.
If he ever intended to finish the sentence nobody would know, because Damon soon swung his right arm around and caught Stefan squarely in the jaw. His brother was stunned for a moment, but the shock quickly wore off and he lunged at Damon. Suddenly fists were flying and Damon's head rolled to the side when he felt Stefan's fist collide with his nose. It stung more than he'd ever admit, but it didn't stop him from sending another punch in Stefan's direction.
The brothers tumbled to the ground, losing any form or knowledge of fighting they may have. All they cared about was landing as many hits as they could, no matter how big or small. He could hear screaming somewhere in the haze of all the fighting, but it didn't penetrate his mind as they rolled around on the floor, occasionally hitting furniture and sending it sliding across the room. Damon didn't feel 28 anymore, he felt 13 and like he was still fighting with his brother over a stupid video game. He didn't care how stupid or immature it all was, he just kept hitting and hitting, desperate to get his frustration out on his brother.
Soon, before either brother was ready to cave, Mason managed to force the brothers apart. Caroline was now there desperately grabbing hold of Stefan's arm and pulling him toward her. Seething, Damon stood up and glared at his brother, but as he took in the site of his brother's bloodied face and torn clothes, the anger dissipated and he was left shell-shocked. Stefan looked equally as dazed and confused as Caroline cried next to him, trying to turn him to face her.
He could feel a soft tugging on his arm with small, insistent hands that tried to pull him away, but he could only see his brother. They stared at each other for several long, guilt ridden moments before Stefan finally turned to Caroline and wiped the tears from her face. He softly spoke to her, his words undistinguishable to Damon, but the words didn't seem to comfort her as she continued to shake her head and cry. At the continued pulling on his arm, he turned to see Elena beside him, a stricken look on her face. Her eyes were flooded with tears as she looked up at him, and he could now feel her hands shaking against his skin.
She tightened her hold on him and pulled him toward the hallway. Without thought or coaxing, his feet began moving after her as she guided him from his younger brother. He couldn't help but look back over his shoulder to see Caroline also guiding a damaged Stefan to bed. The brothers shared a pained look before turning away and disappearing to their respective ends of the penthouse.
Elena was silent as she guided Damon into his room and sat him down at the edge of his bed. He sat motionless while she slid into his bathroom only to return with a wet towel and bandages moments later. With no thought to the comforter, she set the wet towel and all of the other items down on the white fabric. He watched as her still trembling fingers slid over his skin. Her voice was shaking as well when she finally spoke, "God, you're bleeding." He winced when her fingers ran over what he assumed to be a nasty gash on his eyebrow. "Sorry."
She grabbed the towel from the bed and began gently cleaning the blood off of his face. "You don't have to do this," he whispered. He'd been in fights before. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. He didn't need her to do anything for him.
"I know," she admitted softly, never halting her movements. They fell into a silence again as she focused her attention on then cleaning his cuts, which stung like a bitch. He tried to mask the hisses and groans of pain caused from the antiseptic, but some of them felt worse than the punch itself had. "Does it hurt much?"
"Physically? Not too bad. Knowing I just beat the crap out of my brother and had no intention of stopping? Like hell. Absolute hell."
Elena pressed her fingers beneath his chin and tilted his face up so she could look at him. "He feels the same way." He could feel her thumb running gently over his sore cheek. "I don't know what happened tonight, but he feels horrible. The second he saw you on the floor and realized what had really happened, he was devastated."
A wave of guilt crashed over him as Stefan's face flashed through his brain. "I haven't punched my brother since I was 23. We don't fight. Not each other. I protect him." The alcohol combined with the difficult and confusing feelings he had running through him were twisting him up inside. "He's always been so naïve and willing to believe the best in anyone. My whole life I've protected him." He sighed and looked down at the dried blood on his sore knuckles. "We've fought before, but never like that. I have never done that to my brother before."
"Hey," Elena coaxed his gaze back to her gently. "You both had a little too much to drink. Mistakes happen."
Damon shook his head. Nothing Elena said could make him feel better about what he'd just done to his brother. "I knew something was wrong with him. He's been annoying me all night because he knew I was the only one that would let him get away with it. I reached my limit though. I just wanted to go to bed and for it to be over. I shouldn't have hit him."
For all the horrible things he'd done to his brother, he'd truly never done that. After the fight with Elena and the horrible week that followed, he'd already been in a bad mood before the trip even started. Then, everyone was on edge from the moment they met at the airport, and he had the unfortunate conversation with Elena earlier. His nerves had been nearly shot before they even had their first drink, and when Stefan kept pushing and pushing, he lost it. He hadn't been able to control it any longer. He'd snapped, and every bit of anger he had was unleashed on him.
"I heard what he said, Damon," she said to him softly, tearing him from his thoughts. "If you wouldn't have hit him, he would have hit you. Stefan wanted a fight, and he wanted it from you."
"But why? Why did we even have to fight? Why can't he just tell me what's wrong? There's something wrong with him, and he should have just told me." He groaned and shook his head, upset about the situation and how he was acting now. He felt vulnerable and exposed, something he hadn't been since Katherine.
Elena crouched down and nestled herself between Damon's widened stance, her arms resting on his legs. "Because he isn't ready to say what's wrong yet. It's what siblings do. We have something that we're too scared to put into words, but we can't live with everything inside of us. So, we take it out on our sibling, because they will put up with the most. And if it ends in a fight, they have to forgive us. You're the only guarantee that everything will be okay in the end, because he knows that you're always going to be there."
"How do you know any of this?"
"I have a younger brother, remember? The stories are endless." He could feel Elena's fingers tracing softly over the fabric of his pants, running soft circles on the material. "We treat our siblings in a way we'd never treat anyone else, because that's the only person that is ever going to get it. Stefan has never known a world without you. You two know each other better than anyone ever will. Sometimes that's great, but sometimes it gives the two of you the comfort to act out, because at the end of the day, you'd never turn your back on each other."
He looked down at Elena's sympathetic gaze. The remorse for how he'd treated her all day fell like a heavy weight on top of the remorse he felt for his fight with Stefan. He'd been rude and arrogant to her all day, but she'd brought him to his room and worked to clean him up and comfort him. Like always, there was no judgment, only acceptance. He didn't deserve it.
"You don't have to do this – take care of me. I've been mean to you all day."
She nodded her head. "I know I don't have to do this. I need to talk to you though. I've been trying to talk to you all day."
Damon glanced away, not wanting to hear what Elena needed to talk to him about. His weekend was already a disaster. If what she had to say was bad or about how they couldn't mess up their friendship, he wanted to wait until they were back in New York City. He hadn't had to spend much time around her today, but tomorrow, he'd be forced to spend practically every moment with her. He didn't want to have to spend the rest of the weekend with her without the option to touch or smile at her any way he wanted to.
Even if she wouldn't want to admit it, if they defined the relationship as strictly platonic, it would change their friendship. Half of their dynamic was built on the sexual tension that existed between them. He'd rather wait for everything to be defined once they got home, not here.
"Can we just not talk about this tonight?" he requested. "I don't think I can handle anything else right now."
"No, we are going to talk about this tonight." She lifted one hand to the side of his face to try and pull his gaze back toward hers. He resisted for a few moments, but when he couldn't resist it any longer, he brought his blue orbs back to focus on her again. When he was fully focused on her, she began, "If you would have given me the chance, you'd know that I've been trying to talk to you all day because I was going to tell you that I don't like you not being around. I've hated not talking to you all week, and you know what else I've hated?" He shook his head dejectedly; unaware of what else had bothered her during the week. "Not being able to look at you or touch you or just hear you laugh."
His breath hitched in the back of his throat. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you were right. I was scared, and I was lying. Caroline and Bonnie, they know everything now. I told them that I didn't want to lie anymore and that I'm sick of being scared. So, what I've been trying to tell you all day is that I'm in."
"In?"
"It could be a disaster." Elena quickly stood up and ran her hands through her long locks. She let out a nervous laugh as she shook her head. "God, this has the potential to end horribly for everyone. I don't want to be just your friend though. I like you and I have no idea where this is going to lead, but I'm in. For as long as this works, I'm in."
Damon stared up at Elena in shock. He had not expected the conversation to turn out like this. He'd expected apologies and a million reasons why they needed to keep everything platonic. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Before he made a single move, he needed to be absolutely clear on what Elena was telling him.
A soft smile spread across her face and she nodded her head. "Yeah, I am."
He was up and off his feet before she could blink and had her in his arms. Then he was kissing her. After one week of not being able to touch her or even hear her voice, it was like finally having a drink after being stuck in the desert for a month without water. Her lips were intoxicating as they moved against his, and her tongue was driving him wild every time it would slide slowly into his mouth.
His fingers tangled deep in her dark tresses, pulling her closer to him and everything he was feeling. He could feel her chest heaving against his, her breasts pressed tightly against his shirt. The kisses were long and lingering, igniting a fire in his veins. She clung tightly to him, her hands grasping desperately at his face.
"God, I want you," he gasped out between addicting kisses. Her response was to pull his mouth back to hers and drag him back toward his bed. Before they tumbled onto the soft mattress and into the vast unknown, there was a soft stumbling noise just outside of his room. They both quickly pulled apart and turned to the hallway. Stefan was attempting to retreat from his bedroom unnoticed, not wanting to interrupt Damon and Elena, but Damon called out to him. "Stefan."
He froze in the doorway, but didn't turn around. "I didn't mean to interrupt." He moved to continue leaving, but Damon took quick strides to reach him before he could disappear.
"Wait." He grabbed Stefan's arm and turned him to face him. He swallowed thickly as he took in the cut under Stefan's left eye and the tell tale signs of an impending black eye. "What is it?"
Elena spoke up from behind him. "I'm going to go. I think you two need to talk." She swiftly exited the room, but once she reached the hallway she turned and shared a long, agonizing gaze with Damon. The disappointment was evident in her eyes and he could practically see the doubts forming in her head again. He wanted desperately to pull her back into the room and not let her leave until he'd thoroughly had his way with her and explored every inch of her body, but he knew he needed to talk to Stefan. Elena would have to wait for now.
She finally averted her gaze and disappeared down the hallway, leaving him to focus his attention back on Stefan. He looked sad and confused as he shuffled nervously on his feet, and he found himself feeling even guiltier. They weren't supposed to be nervous around each other. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice filled with an amount of sincerity he didn't know he possessed. With tentative movements, he reached out and turned Stefan's face so he could see if there were any other injuries. Thankfully, the cut and bruise were all he had. "I shouldn't have hit you."
"I deserved it." He turned to look down the hallway and then closed Damon's door, presumably for more privacy. "Truthfully, I deserved it hours ago." Stefan appraised the damage he'd done to Damon's face. He groaned and closed his eyes. "God, I'm sorry." With a dejected sigh, he dropped down onto the edge of Damon's bed.
"What's gotten into you?" Damon questioned. "This isn't you."
"I know," he whispered.
"So tell me what the hell is wrong with you. And don't you try and tell me that it was me! I know you, and you've been taking something out on me that wasn't even about me."
"I was wrong. I know that."
"Jesus, Stefan," he blew out with frustration. "We can't fix this if you don't tell me what's bothering you. I can't fix it if you don't tell me."
Stefan looked down at the floor. "You can't fix this."
"Come on, I may have just beaten the crap out of you, but you really don't think I'd let anyone else mess with you. Tell me what happened."
"I'm scared!" Stefan nearly shouted as his head shot back up so he could look at Damon. He nervously glanced toward the closed door and then lowered his voice. "I'm scared, okay?"
Damon took a small step toward his brother, nervous to hear the answer to his next question. "What are you scared of?"
"I'm 24 and I'm getting married in two weeks. And in a few years I'll probably have kids. I don't know if I'm ready for kids. What if I'm wrong about Caroline? What if I really have rushed into this and I'm making a mistake?"
He had to resist the urge to smile as he listened to Stefan's nervous ramblings. He'd started to get genuinely worried that something serious was wrong. It was just cold feet though, absolutely nothing. He could more than handle this problem. "This is the reason I had to kick your ass?"
"I'm being serious here, Damon. What if I'm wrong about everything?"
"Okay look, tell Caroline about anything I say in this room and Mason won't be able to pull me off of you, got it?" he questioned as he sat down next to a jittery Stefan who mutely nodded at him. "For as much shit as I give Caroline, the girl is practically tailor-made for you. Cause let's face it, you're uptight and take yourself way too seriously. If you didn't have Caroline I'd probably be hiding Prozac in your food like you do for dogs."
"Then why am I so scared? If Caroline is who I'm supposed to be with, why am I having doubts?"
Damon laughed at the obviousness of it all. "Cause you're getting married. That's a really big deal. You know what the first thing I did on the morning I married Katherine was? I threw up. My first memory of that day is puking my guts out on my bathroom floor."
Stefan looked at him, dumbfounded. "You're divorced. How is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Hey, you came to me, okay? Giving advice isn't exactly my forte."
"I love her," he whispered brokenly. "I love Caroline more than I ever thought I could love anyone. I can't imagine my life without her, but we're still so young. She's barely out of college. I don't want to end up divorced."
"Statistics are that one in every two marriages end in divorce right? Well, there's two of us and I just got divorced." He clapped a hand over Stefan's shoulder. "So, you're welcome. There's your wedding present." Stefan continued to stare down at his hands, a pensive expression on his face. "Stefan, you're not going to get divorced. You and Caroline are going to be blissfully happy for the rest of your lives and have lots of blonde babies."
"You really think I'm making the right decision?" he choked out.
Damon stood up and pulled Stefan to his feet as well. "Alright, look at me," he commanded. "You love Caroline and you know you want to marry her. This was just a momentary lapse in judgment. So, you're going to leave my room and go have sex with your fiancée while you still can."
Stefan allowed Damon to guide him toward the door. "Why would I not be able to?"
"Haven't you heard?" Damon asked as he opened the door. "Once you get married, the sex stops. Enjoy it while it lasts." He pushed Stefan into the hallway and then followed him out.
"I don't remember that being the case with you and Katherine."
"And my marriage didn't last," he pointed out. "Do yourself a favor. Don't model your marriage after mine."
"I don't plan to." Stefan stopped in the living room and turned to look at Damon. "I'm really sorry about what I said tonight. I shouldn't have brought up Katherine or Elena."
Damon shrugged. Stefan's apology wasn't needed. He knew how bad Stefan felt bad about how he'd behaved. "Just don't do it again. Next time, I won't beat you up; I'll just steal your hair gel."
Stefan rolled his eyes. "Cause you don't spend half of your day staring at your reflection and messing with your hair."
"The mirror just loves me."
"Whatever," Stefan groaned. "I'm serious though. I don't belong in your business with Elena. Whatever you and her have, that's between the two of you. I'll stay out of it." He began backing up while holding his hands up in surrender.
"Good, tell your fiancée the same."
"Wouldn't do me any good if I tried." And with that, he turned and disappeared down the hallway toward his bedroom.
He watched after him for a moment before turning around to go back to his room. Elena, who had been walking toward the kitchen, froze when she saw him crossing the living room. She was now dressed in her pajamas; the cotton shorts leaving little to the imagination as they showed off her toned legs.
"Hey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
She shifted the weight from one foot in front of the other. "Hey."
The silence of the penthouse surrounded them as they stared at each other. So many thoughts were flowing through his head, the focal point of them all being how much he wanted her. The rope of tension was pulled taut between them while they stared at each other, silent and unmoving. It felt like he had been standing there for an eternity when something snapped. He was done waiting and she was too.
They crossed the room in a flash, coming together somewhere in the middle in a flurry of tangled limbs and heated skin. He parted her mouth with his and explored the soft recesses of it. Her tongue met his in an intoxicating dance that turned his world on its side. Needing to be closer to her, his hands dropped down to just under the gentle curve of her backside and swiftly lifted her into his arms as she brought her legs to twine around his hips.
"I have to have you," he whispered when their lips parted. She only moaned against his mouth and pulled his lips back to hers. He blindly began moving toward his bedroom, a feat that felt nearly impossible as Elena's mouth began an exploratory trip down his neck and her fingers worked desperately to rid him of his shirt. They bounced from one wall to the other until he finally stumbled into his room.
"Door," she murmured against his flesh. "Lock it."
He didn't have to be told twice. There would be no more interruptions tonight; he wouldn't allow it.
He spun them around and used Elena's back to slam the door shut and then pressed her against the dark wood so he could lock out all unwanted visitors. After she heard the click of the lock, she pulled her mouth from his neck to look down at him with lust-filled eyes. A teasing smirk played across her lips when she took in his disheveled form.
"Legs down. Now," he commanded and she easily complied, allowing her feet to drop soundlessly onto the floor. He gripped her hands and pulled her away from the door enough so he could grab the bottom of her thin t-shirt and pull it up and over her head. "So perfect," he said in a husky voice as his hands reached out to cup her full, naked breasts. She moaned when his fingers teased her nipples until they were hardened from his touch.
She lifted her hands to his parted shirt and pushed it down his arms, until it finally fell to a heap on the floor. "Much better." She smiled appreciatively and ran her hands over the smooth skin of his stomach.
After a moment of allowing her to appreciate what she saw, he pulled her roughly against him, bringing their mouths crashing together again. He gripped her hips and began guiding her toward the bed. As they tumbled onto the bed, he cleared his mind of any and all thoughts but her. The feel of her fingers threaded through his hair. The heat that he could feel emanating from her skin. The drugging way in which her hips rolled against his. She was all he could see and feel and he wanted more.
He slid his hands down the bare skin of her stomach until he reached the soft material of her shorts. "You're too clothed." She gladly took the invitation and lifted her hips off the bed just enough for him to slide her last pieces of clothing off of her body. Now that he had her naked beneath him, he blazed a slow, torturous path up her legs, taking time to appreciate every inch of skin his lips touched until he reached the juncture of her thighs. Her body shook with excitement when his tongue slid against her moist heat. "So wet."
She surprised him when she grabbed onto his shoulders and began pulling him up her body. "Later," she nearly choked out. "I need you now." Once she had him hovering above her, she pushed at his chest until he fell over onto his back. "First, I need you naked." Her dark tresses framed her face as she traced a delicate finger down his torso until she reached his belt. With expert movements, she unbuckled his belt and pants, and in no time, she was pushing the designer material onto the floor. "I think you're ready for me too," she said as she teased the tip of his erection with her fingers.
There was a predatory look in her eyes when she looked up at him from the foot of the bed. She was on all fours, her gaze locked on his, and he was mesmerized. He couldn't tear his eyes away as she slowly crawled up the bed. Once she was within distance, he grabbed her face in his hands and tugged her mouth to his. "I've been ready for months," he whispered and allowed his tongue to dart out against his lips before retreating back into his mouth.
He had them flipped over before a retort could form on her lips. His hand grazed her breast and moved down her taut stomach to her parted thighs and rubbed his thumb teasingly over her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell back against the pillows, her hair fanning out around her. "You're teasing me," she moaned between her shallow breathing.
"I know," he smirked down at her, despite the fact that her eyes were closed. "I just can't help myself."
Her eyes opened at his tease and she pinned him with a petulant stare. "I want you inside of me."
"Are you sure?" he flicked his thumb against her and her body shook.
"Yes," she gasped. "Now."
Without another word, he gripped her hips and positioned himself at her opening. Her eyes were fully trained on him now as she waited in anticipation for what would come next. He watched her face as he slowly slid inside of her and had to resist the urge to come then and there. He'd been waiting months to finally be inside of her and now he was. She was warm and tight and everything he'd hoped for. She moaned and clenched her muscles tightly once he was fully inside of her. She was heaven. And judging by the look on her face, he assumed that she must feel the same.
He was still inside of her for a moment, taking his time to absorb everything that was happening. When her hips rolled seductively beneath him, he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled out only to thrust back into her, eliciting another moan from Elena.
Their breathing was swift and shallow as he moved inside of her. They quickly found their rhythm and he slid one of his hands down the side of her face. "You're so beautiful." She smiled and pressed one hand against his back, urging him on. He sped up his thrusts as she continued to stare up at him, her gaze never straying from him.
"Oh god," she moaned, when he struck a new pace and rotated his hips. Her eyes fell from his as she dropped her head back onto the pillow and whispered his name. Her body was glistening with sweat and he could feel her shiver beneath him as she struggled to catch her breath. "Damon," she sighed again. She clung tightly to him, pulling his body closer to hers.
He could feel her getting closer the edge when she began meeting him thrust for thrust, pulling him in as deep as possible. Soon, she was tumbling over the edge, moaning his name loudly. Hearing her chant his name was his quick undoing and soon he was following her into the vast unknown.
He stilled above her and she stared up at him, her cheeks tinted red. His hand that was resting against her face brushed back into her hair, moving the wet locks off of her forehead. He smiled down at her. "Shit."
The smile quickly broke out across her own face and she laughed quietly. "So that's what the rumors have been about."
"I'd say I hope I lived up, but I don't think I need to."
He rolled off of her and began pushing the sheets and comforter down so that they could climb beneath them. She easily obliged and soon they were both settled beneath the covers. They laid in a comfortable silence for a long while after he reached over and flipped the light switch beside the bed. There were no need for words for him, he just relished in the silence, absorbing everything that had just happened.
A part of him had wondered if his attraction to Elena would fade once he had her, but he now knew that wasn't the case. He knew he wouldn't feel differently tomorrow or the day after that. Elena Gilbert was unlike any woman he'd ever met, and having sex with her wasn't going to diminish that. If anything, he only wanted her more than ever before.
He was drifting into the hazy state somewhere between reality and dreams when she moved beside him. She leaned on his chest and placed a comforting hand on his face. With heavy lids, he opened his eyes to stare up at her. "Don't break my heart."
The words made his breath hitch in the back of his throat. Her eyes were vulnerable as she traced over the injuries on his face. "I won't," he whispered.
Tonight had proven that there was something deeper going on between him and Elena. He didn't know what yet, or where it would lead, but he knew that he wouldn't break her heart. He would not hurt her.