"Honey…" he calls with an amused voice, entering from the front door, "I'm home!"

He's not really waiting for her to run into his arms wearing an apron and a smile – and possibly nothing else – but hope dies last, doesn't it? Oh well, he went out playing the part of the dutiful friend to be away from her and clear his mind, so he's certainly not complaining on her lack of wife-y attitude, not really. Not that much.

Still, he can't hear her heartbeat anywhere near so he walks around the house, bags in his hands, to find her. He sees her through the glass of the French doors. She's lying on her back on the green grass of the garden, arms outstretched and palms open to the sky. Her dark curls against the green makes a lovely contrast. Her features are perfectly carved, and she looks calm even though she's not smiling; he knows she's fighting her way up from the bottom. She's been asking from herself so much, for so long, that it's too hard to do otherwise now, or to accept that she did something wrong.

He leaves one bag, the one with the clothes he took from her house, next the French doors, and goes into the kitchen to put in the fridge the food he went buying.

Stefan is filling up a jug of orange juice, and there's a mixer, carrots and half a lemon on the counter top; Damon didn't even know they had a mixer to begin with.

One of Stefan's eyebrows rises as he sees him carrying a brown paper bag. Well, his Martha Stewart version scares him too, so how can he blame his young, impressionable little brother?

"See what I have to do because you can't get back your lazy ass from your vampire-Bambi girlfriend?" he asks, careful to show he's irritated by the fact that he had to lower himself to such tasks.

"If I knew what would happen I would have stayed around," Stefan answers, and somehow his serious tone suggests Damon he's not talking about shopping. Still, he supposes deflowering a virgin can make him feel a bit more self-centered than usual, so it's totally possible that Stefan knows nothing about what happened between him and Bonnie the night before; after all Stefan is not exactly the jovial type.

"What are you doing?"

"I think it's quite evident, don't you think?" Stefan asks back, "What you are doing, on the other hand, it's not really so clear."

They don't look at each other. Stefan's shoulders are tense and his expression is hard, while Damon feels suddenly cornered by his brother's words and last night memories.

"We'll have to have a talk, brother, about the birds and the bees, since-"

"Stop it!"

Stefan turns to him and Damon raises his eyes.

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"It's like riding a bike, you know, once you learn-"

"Damon," Stefan's voice is grave and he knows that he can't joke his way out of this forever.

"She's hurt enough," he adds.

"You really think that I'm trying to hurt her?" Damon asks, half offended, half worried.

"No, I don't, but she's vulnerable and you-" Stefan stops in the middle of this speech that's been going on for a while in his head. His brother has spent so long trying to hold Elena's heart, has been led by his feelings for her for so long, even when he had other women sharing his bed, and somehow he can't believe he would stop loving her, ever.

But he's biased, because Stefan can only love Elena. Because Stefan has been longing for Elena the moment he was old enough to understand what it means to love something. He's been longing for Elena when he laid eyes on Katherine; whom was only the mere shadow of what could truly complete him. And so he cannot think of love without thinking of Elena.

And yet, he saw with his own eyes the way his brother and Bonnie challenge and understand each other, on a level that's precluded to anyone else. He saw Damon holding her, and arguing with her instead of just acting in spite of what she thinks; and, go figure, listening, too.

Stefan cannot just label what happened like he knows, because at this point he's pretty sure Damon himself doesn't know what happened. Or why.

His brother can be a perfect stranger to his own heart.

Stefan sighs and shakes his head.

"I trust you to spare me the lecture, brother, since it never worked before anyway," Damon says, annoyed.

"I should kick your ass," Stefan says with a lighter voice. There's nothing he can really do now, after all, and Bonnie looks fine. At least, as fine as she can be with everything she'sbeen through lately.

"What do you expect?" Damon asks, "Do you want me to take responsibility and repair to the disgrace I brought upon her? Should I remind you you're not her father?"

"But I'm her friend."

"I am, too," Damon says, "Just a bit more intimate," he jokes winking at him.

Damon's way of working his way out of an uncomfortable moment is to use irony and make people mad, but Stefan had centuries of practice so he doesn't flinch. Nor let him have his way.

"I thought the point of me staying around so often was to not let you become so intimate with her."

Damon is surprised by his reply. It's always startling to realize how much they understand each other, even if it happens in the most inconvenient of the occasions.

"So we can blame it all on you, then. That's great. I like this solution a lot better."

"What are you thinking to do now?" he presses.

"Oh, hell!" his reply is loud and exasperated, "I don't know! Do you think I planned all this? I didn't!" he admits, "I'm not saying I never thought about it, okay? I did think about it, I'm not that dead after all, but it wasn't supposed to happen! It wasn't supposed to, and she wasn't supposed to be so fucking beautiful and casual about this, and you're giving me hell over nothing!" he's really tired of being told off, "And may I remind you that we're talking about Bonnie here? Do you really think there's anyone on this freaking planet that could force her into something? Anything?"

"No, I don't."

"Good."

"So, she's casual, huh?" he asks, with a light smile and Damon pictures for a moment how delightful it would be to tear away his tongue and use it to make himself a tie, "As in thanks for the sex, would you pass me the salt please kind of casual?"

"You really have the worse post coital conversations, you know that?" Damon replies grimacing, ignoring his brother's question, "Judgy and I are on the same page, here. Everything's normal. It's no big deal."

"No big deal, huh? I understand," Stefan says looking very serious, "And you shouldn't worry, they say size doesn't matter."

"Funny."

Bonnie's voice prevents them from persisting on the topic. She calls out for both of them and once she's in the room she scans their faces for any sign of their usual arguments.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yes," Stefan says with a smile.

"Totally," Damon adds with what she knows it's a fake one.

She can guess the topic of their argument. The usual one; Elena. And she has no intention to torture herself digging into the details of Damon's undying love for her friend. She's not that masochist.

"If you say so," she says, ready to turn around and leave them alone

"Actually," Stefan speaks again and she stops to look at him, "We were talking about you."

Damon looks scathingly at him but his brother has his back to him and so it's wasted effort.

"We think you're a lot better and that you'll be able to go back home very soon," he says with a smile.

She blinks and Damon is thrown. There's not one sound in the kitchen.

"Oh, well," she says, clearing her throat, "That's good news. Right?"

Bonnie takes a breath and tries her hardest to think of all the things she's been missing while she was imprisoned in the boarding house, all the things she will have a chance to do again, the place she'll be able to go, the people she'll meet. Bonnie tries her hardest to smile brightly and be happy about it, but she's so tired and she's not sure she succeeded.

There's something she'll be missing, and even if she cannot admit it to herself right now, she knows she'll have to eventually, because she's still there and her heart hurts already.

"I mean, I was getting claustrophobic," she adds.

"I can imagine," Stefan says.

"I'm not used to sharing my living space with other people for so long, it will be a relief to get some space."

And when she looks at Damon, silent and immobile, he finds nothing else to say but "Tell me about it. But when you're as handsome as me, you get used to the flock," he says without looking at her in the eyes.

"So many egos, so little reason," she says, turning and leaving the room.

"I don't remember we were discussing about her leaving the house," Damon rushes to say between his teeth once she's far enough.

Stefan turns to him to answer "She'll have to, eventually."

"Eventually is the key word."

"She needs to trust herself again."

"What if it's too soon?"

"It's not, and we'll make sure she leaves only when she's ready. I think a week or two will be enough."

Stefan sounds so reasonable, and he's the prudent one, isn't he? Yet Damon wants to protest, wants to say he's wrong even if he's probably not. He wants to tell him she needs to stay.

But he doesn't.

#

She stands at the French doors looking outside and he can only see her back. He can catch a faint reflex of her face on the glass but he turns his eyes to not see her. If there's any trace of eagerness to go back to her life before their forced cohabitation, which would be totally understandable, he doesn't want to know, because he's not so eager himself.

And what a blow it would be for his ego - for his heart - to know that he's the only one reluctant to let the other go.

He really needs to remember why it is a good idea to have his house freed of any witchy, judgy presence.

She's an infamous pain in the ass. She thinks she's always right, and she usually dares to be so. She monopolizes his ability to sleep. She makes him do terrible things, like grocery shopping and cooking. She gives him ominous, lusty desires, walking around the house without the faintest idea of the effect she has on him, and shouldn't have, since he's in love with another girl. Yes, he is, of course he is. How could he not be? Right?

But for how much he loves Elena, for how much Bonnie makes him crazy and her leaving should clearly be a news worth celebrating, there's no part of him happy about it. Instead there's something in the middle of his chest sinking a little bit at the very idea to see her go.

That's stupid. She won't be in another planet, she'll live across town where she's always been, and he can casually pass by and check on her. Offer her a drink.

Make sure she doesn't date losers.

With her poor taste in men he thinks it would be far better for her to not date at all, at least until she's mature enough and realizes what she's worth, which should be around thirty or even later, just to be sure, because you can't rush those things nor settle for less then what you deserve, really, and anyway how many men can truly hope to be able to handle such a feisty, powerful little thing?

Yes, she shouldn't date anyone. Ever. He's only being reasonable here. That's the better solution.

Of course it would be a waste, but men nowadays are so incapable to treat a woman properly; she'd end up either with a spineless imitation of a man or a pig that can't wait to get into her pants for some horizontal activity, so it would be a lot better if she gave up on the dating plan entirely. If she needs sex, which at some point she will, she has a trustworthy friend like him willing to help her.

Really, he'll give his everything to help her.

Because he cares for her, and they understand each other, and he likes the way she laughs when he jokingly tries to bargain for another Tête-à-tête, and this fucking boardinghouse will be a boring black hole without her.

So it's totally understandable if he doesn't like the idea that she'll go away, and it doesn't mean anything more than that. Really. He just loves her, like a friend. An annoyingly beautiful one. But that's all.

"Are you going outside?" he asks.

She turns her head over her shoulder and then looks back beyond the glass of the doors.

He counts the seconds until she speaks. Her voice is so familiar, and it should belong to that place, he thinks. It should fill the air around him, starting from now so that he can have as many doses of her as he is capable of. And he's capable of many things, as he amply demonstrated.

"No," she says, "I've had enough for today," she lies.

She's been longing for fresh air and sun for days, but now it feels so wrong to put more space between them. It's an irrational thought, one she can't admit aloud but, yet, she can't bring herself to leave that house, not even to take a breath in the garden.

There will soon be plenty of space between them, she'll have all the time and reasons to tell herself how right, how good it is to be away from Damon, but right now she needs to stay near him as much as possible. She really needs him, from the bottom of her being.

"I- uhm, I was bored so I rented a few movies," he says casually, meeting her eyes when she turns to look at him, "I'll let you watch 'em with me if you promise to not feel me up through my pants while I'm distracted."

She smiles lightly, rolling her eyes.

"You're so delusional," she says, with emphasis.

"I know you can't really help it, don't worry, and once you do the unspeakable to me I'll find the inner strength to forgive you."

"Do you write your lines beforehand?" she asks, shaking her head.

"Nope, I'm a real wonder and you bring out the best of me," he winks, "Feel free to weep for joy. I can even put on a country song if it helps the mood. You know, something kind of dramatic that says how much you like me."

"Do you have something dramatic, period, that says how much I'd like you to pull your head out of your ass?" she asks with a smile.

"I'll have you know this dirty talk really do works on me," he grins theatrically.

"You are such an ego-maniac," she says with a sigh, "What do you want to watch?"

"Why, little bird! You forgot sex god," he says, and then answers her question, "I was thinking about watching Iron Man."

"An Egocentric, whore-man, and king of the party that loves to have an audience and smash stuff. Go figure," she smiles ironically.

"Don't swoon too much, Pepper."

Their sparring sessions feel warm, comfortable, and it's like, for a few moments, they suddenly know where they fit in the world; even Stefan doesn't dare to intrude in their private corner once that, standing on the doorstep, he sees them watching the movie, while throwing ironic remarks at each other.

The younger Salvatore is quite surprised to realize what a perfect sense his brother and Bonnie make together.

#

"It will be Bonnie's birthday in a few days," Stefan says as leaves the empty glass on the coffee table and gets up.

It's getting late and it's hunting night for him and Elena, so he needs to go.

Damon looks his way over his drink but doesn't say anything.

"Since she'll still be staying here we thought we could host a party at the boardinghouse."

"If someone stains my Persian carpet I'll snap their neck and throw their body in the garbage," he says. As his lips meet the glass once again, the previous night, he spent on that same carpet, flashes in his mind. The sight of Bonnie is so clear into his blue orbs that he tries to blinks it away with no result.

"They're not undisciplined pets," Stefan says.

"Worse. They're teenagers," Damon replies, "I'll probably have to tear someone away from the leg of the dining table."

"People with no self-control in the sexual department," his brother says, "You could teach them."

The irony is so clear that Damon is tempted to break him a bone or two, but his brother is not as stupid as he accuses him to be and he says goodnight before the discussion can go any further.

That's good because Bonnie, in his head, is back on top of him. Once again naked and flushed. Her dark hair framing her pretty face and caressing her shoulders as she moves up and down on his erection and her breast bounce for the pleasure of his eyes.

Velvety skin, round bosom, dark chocolate nipples. So painfully gorgeous.

The sound of her moans, of her tongue caressing his name is so good that his lashes tremble and his eyes close remembering every tiny detail his mind can call onto.

The image of her hands on his as he guides her on his member, holding her by the hips to help her learn the rhythm of their riding, is so vivid, so erotic that he groans a fuck and brings his hands to his face, letting them pass in his hair, like he can erase them from his brain the way you can erase a drawing that's been made on a blackboard with a piece ofchalk.

Yet, she stays there; passionate and beautiful and innocently wild, under all the threats and the reasoning he feeds his mind with.

But even if he can stop himself from relishing in the memory of their encounter, he can still feel the wanting cornering him into his own head, the need to give in, like he's some sort of hormonal young boy. All because of her.

His mouth is dry, his blood runs faster, his jeans are tight and "I really need to get monumentally drunk."

He always knew she was a pain in the ass.

#

Note: I'm really grateful for your support, I have stumbled lately on a few Tumblr post that mentions Dormiente and knowing you love this story really pushes me to do my best to write it, stay true to the characters and update often. Some of you are so precious to me that I would like to do nothing else all day long but write until your heart is content. This last part of the note though goes to a small part of my reviewing guests: I think I can truthfully say that my updates are pretty frequent (at least for now), and I know you probably mean no disrespect but it's kind of mortifying to read review merely consisting in "commanding" me to update or to inform me that waiting for my updates sucks. Please, don't misunderstand me, I accept any kind of review, if you like or don't like the story it's okay to say so, I do my best to take any kind of criticism as a spur to do better, but posting anonymous review is no excuse for treating me like I am at fault. I would love to content you, but as everyone else I have moments when I'm stuck, plus exams time is starting again for me, and to not mention some pretty serious personal matters which I'm not going to justify myself for, so please be understanding.