Word Of Mouth | Damon/Elena | M | ~ 3100
Word Of Mouth
Damon/Elena | M | ~2900
So while it is totally understandable that Elena is feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as possible, she's also rather aroused, but she's going to ignore that tiny, insignificant detail for now.
::
Elena is comfortable in her own body. She is happy and confident, she knows what dresses look flattering, and what style of jeans just doesn't bode well for her. She's not afraid of using body language to accentuate a point, and she knows what stances mean what when she's standing in front of someone.
She's reasonably comfortable with other peoples' bodies too. This is generally when their bodies are in contact with hers, like when she's hugging someone. However, she likes to be the one doing the hugging, that way she can judge the hold and type of hug she's giving.
One thing Elena isn't comfortable with, however, is discussing her sex life. There are a lot of layers in which she feels guilty and naughty and weird and loved and -- she doesn't want to talk to people who turn out to be someone other than a friend -- and that was before the supernatural reared its ugly head in Mystic Falls.
She just doesn't like talking about it.
That's why now, while leaning back in the booth across from her in the low light as Damon describes the best blowjob he's ever received, it's really understandable how Elena is so uncomfortable she's contemplating faking menstrual pain just to leave. Damon's going on about it in explicit detail, how this girl worked her hands and her throat at the same time (Stefan looks somewhere between disgusted and amused while Jeremy just looks enraptured) that Elena can not find anything to look at that isn't making her skin prickle with that awful awkward feeling.
Caroline ditched the conversation a moment ago to order more drinks and a double serving of wedges with sour cream, so it's just Elena squished into the wall beside Jeremy, facing the two Salvatores. It sucks being the only human female sometimes. Because being human comes with those ridiculous things called hormones. So while it is totally understandable that Elena is feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as possible, she's also rather aroused, but she's going to ignore that tiny, insignificant detail for now.
Damon's voice is low and slow and smooth, and he's recounting the story like it's nothing to him, just another tale in his ever zealous sex life. He isn't using names -- which Elena isn't sure whether is a good thing or not -- because last she heard he was seeing a young woman with really, really fake breasts. However, when you're over a hundred years old and eternally attractive... Well. She deduces Damon could be talking about anyone.
"It wasn't even the mouth that made it so great, you know?" Damon tips back his last swig of whiskey and leans forward a little, "it was her hands. It was the way she knew just how to stroke me."
Jeremy looks a little confused. "Why the hands?"
"You know how girls think that we want to be touched how they like being touched? Not this time -- she knew what she was doing like a pro."
Elena bites her tongue from adding 'stitute' onto the end of his sentence. Jeremy responds with a, 'oh,' and a nod like he knows what Damon is talking about. Elena doesn't want to know what her little brother has been physically educated with, nor with whom, but Jeremy looks far too comfortable with this conversation than she does. Even Stefan looks okay, and she can't help but then think wildly -- is he thinking about what she was like when she gave him blowjobs? Ohmygod.
"Excuse me," she stands up, ushering Jeremy hurriedly out of the booth. "I have to pee," she says poignantly, and half steps over Jeremy in her attempt to be relieved of the situation.
This is just not a good night.
::
Elena wakes up the next morning in her own bed, wearing last night's clothes and smelling like vodka, a heavy headache in the forefront of her mind. She gasps at the crick in her neck, and flops onto her back tiredly.
This is also not a good morning.
::
When they all decided to hang out as a group Elena doesn't know, but somehow it turned into 'Wednesday is movie night!' and 'Dinner at the Grill on Fridays!' with Damon being invited to each and every occasion. (Ignoring the fact that movie nights were mostly hosted at the Boarding House, of course.) Maybe it started after they defeated Klaus and Elena turned eighteen and suddenly everyone seemed to be getting along. Even Bonnie was more receptive to the vampires' invitations to dinner, and Tyler had made his way back into their friends' circle after being absent from it for so long.
Either way, Elena's learned the fine art of not being caught alone with Damon, not after the time she had one too many shots on a Saturday night and asked him to help her into bed. Really help her into bed.
Now, with their group activities they seem so apt on continuing, she's found there's always more than three people in the room at a time. Elena had not planned on being caught with him alone any time soon. However, that doesn't seem to stop Damon from talking about... things.
"I like to give, you know?" Damon says. Elena doesn't make any eye contact with him. She lies back on the couch and keeps her feet kicked up onto Tyler's lap, staring at the wooden ceiling counting the beams. "It must come with the vampire thing, because I like to feel skin on my tongue, the way it tastes on my lips," he continues. He glances over at Tyler, "do you find that, being 'wolf and all?"
"Yeah, I do," says Tyler. He taps his fingers on Elena's ankles lightly. "Like, it's the taste. I like to taste the flesh and feel the way a girl trembles when I bite down."
When did Elena's life become a porn film? She has her legs crossed, and when she shifts on the couch they rub together and cause a delicious friction, right.... there. That one minuscule movement has Damon turning sharp eyes on her, so she arches her brows at him and he smiles at her like he knows something.
Maybe it's because she doesn't say anything whenever it's brought up that the boys don't think she has a problem with it. Stefan had tried the first few times to veer the conversation in another direction, or just say outright to stop, but then everyone had looked at Elena like she was some virginal prude and she'd said, 'go ahead, it doesn't bother me.'
Oh wait... there's no maybe. That's exactly how it happened. So it's all her fault. But seriously, guys did not talk about stuff like this all the time, did they?
"It's power," says Stefan simply from an armchair, joining the conversation. Elena can not look across to meet his eyes. "You're controlling someone else's body." He can not be participating in this conversation while she is in the room. She thought she could handle small comments when they were together, but now being friends and talking about it? It's totally worse.
There's a silence and Elena sneaks a glance to see that Tyler's looking at her, and it seems she's supposed to contribute something to the conversation. She opens her mouth, shuts it, and attempts to make a non-committal grunt. It seems to do the trick, as Tyler turns to look at Damon again.
"It's when her thighs start trembling in my hands," he says. He stops tapping Elena's legs. "When my tongue aches and I'm thinking I want to stop but I can't, because she's right there." He smiles. "That's the part where I feel in total control."
"I've just always liked using my mouth," says Damon with a shrug. In her peripheral vision she can see Stefan nod in agreement and -- agreement? Well, he didn't use it that much. When he did it was great, obviously, but --
"Elena?"
She jolts out of her thoughts, staring across at Damon who has a brow raised in her direction. "What?" She chokes out, trying to calm her erratic thought patterns.
"Do you like to give?" The question seems innocent enough, but it's loaded with double entendres and she knows he's doing this just to get a rise out of her. "Head," he clarifies, because her stunned silence must seem to the boys as if she doesn't know what he's talking about.
"Elena?" Tyler says after a moment. "Are you okay?"
Without the proper neural response to form a coherent answer, Elena jumps of the couch in a move that is fast even for the vampires and the werewolf in the room, and promptly makes her way up the stairs. Once she's out of sight she almost runs down the hall and shuts herself into the spare bedroom she's prone to staying in. Throwing herself onto the bed, she slips a hand down her pants swiftly.
She's never felt the urge to touch herself so much in her life.
::
It's not as if she believes Damon is even doing it deliberately. He doesn't attempt to single her out and talk about sex; in fact, it's always in the presence of the other boys, and they all seem quite content on the topic of conversation and keep it running for a long while. At first Elena had thought that he was doing it on purpose, that he had an agenda and was trying to A) get into her pants, or B) mess with her head. She was an avid believer of B, because he seemed to have given up on trying to win her -- but then, Damon didn't seem to be focusing any actual part of the conversation towards her.
He talked about anal (that was the one time Elena had flushed bright red and Stefan had choked on his coke at The Grill -- they'd obviously been thinking of the first time they'd attempted that particular sexual activity, and it hadn't gone all too splendidly) and then he'd gone on to discuss with Tyler the best way to go about it depending on your size. (It was horrific, Elena's not going to lie.)
There had been a time when they were all watching a film at the Boarding House (Jeremy's choice) and it had a sex scene it that started up a rife conversation about fingering and fisting. Elena had turned to Bonnie with a look of 'oh my God what is this?' except her friend was biting her lower lip and smiling a little naughtily, avoiding Jeremy's heated gaze. Oh fuck.
Now she's just sure her friends are all getting to an extremely sexual stage in their lives (for Damon is must be eternal) and she's just going to have to sit through it. Even if listening to Damon describe in the low light about the time he made Andy come more than three times has her twitching in her seat from arousal.
::
It's horrific. Over the next month, at different times and places, Elena comes to learn about how Damon has had more than one threesome on occasion, his favorite sexual positions, how he lost his virginity and the best way to receive a hand job -- and more. Whether or not it's with his little brother or her little brother or Bonnie or Caroline or Tyler in attendance, he manages to relay sexual exploits that seem to be like they're just for her.
She'd thought it was just bad luck that sex seemed to be the favored topic of conversation nowadays, but now... She just doesn't even know any more.There are other things and everything is told to her in explicit detail, and Elena wants to lock herself in her room for the next six months to calm herself down.
In fact... that's probably the best idea she's had in a long while.
So she feigns sickness, skips Movie Night, and come Friday when Caroline, Bonnie, Jeremy, Damon, Stefan and Tyler are all having dinner at the Grill, she's snuggled tight into bed reading a book. She gets a few, 'hope you feel better soon!' and 'we miss you' texts, but apart from that she's left in quiet, PG audience peace.
Then Damon calls her.
Logically, she knows she should have turned off her phone by now, but she hasn't. So she reaches over while still reading the end of the line in her book, and hits answer. (She also knows she shouldn't have answered it when she saw 'Damon' flashing on the screen, but hell, that voice. She's a sucker for punishment.)
"Are you having fun being all alone?" Damon asks her.
He isn't talking about sex, he isn't using that seductive lilt to his voice he's been prone to switching to, but still a jolt goes through Elena's body and she switches off her lamp and snuggles deeper under her duvet.
"Plenty," she says, and tries to sound a bit more nasally. "I'm just about to go to bed, so--"
"Elena, are you alright?" Why? Why now does he choose to be concerned? "You've been acting strange lately." He doesn't even sound smug or self-assured. In fact, he sounds quite the opposite, and the noise is dying down in the background so...?
"Where are you?" She asks suspiciously instead.
"The Grill, I just stepped outside. Why?"
"Nothing," she says hastily.
"Elena," and Damon's voice is low and smooth and everything she hates. "You know you can talk to me about anything." He pauses, as if contemplating the liberty of his next words. "I like that about our friendship -- we can tell each other everything."
"I like that too."
For the love of -- stupid, stupid, stupid.
"You've just been odd lately. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," stresses Elena, even as she clutches the bedspread with her free hand so it doesn't slip down into her panties. It doesn't work, Damon is saying something else in a low murmur and it has something to do with Caroline and alcohol but she just doesn't care. He switches topics (she doesn't know what to, she's too busy working her finger hurriedly to get herself off) and continues on in that smooth voice.
She has to turn her head away from the phone and bite her lip as she comes, so as not to alert Damon to anything.
"Just -- whatever. Okay?" She says into the phone once she's regained her breath, because what Damon said last kind of sounded like a question and she doesn't want to look like a complete idiot.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Damon says and hangs up the phone.
Too late.
::
Somewhere between six a.m and eight a.m, while Elena tosses and turns and replays the conversation in her head she had with Damon, she comes to feel the familiar tingle between her legs that's been happening every time Damon has opened his mouth. No, fight it. Urging this thought in her head, she rolls onto her stomach and tries to blot out Damon's face in her mind and his voice.
She can't. She can't fight it. She rolls over onto her back and lets her fingers nudge into her underwear, again.
::
They're standing in the kitchen while Elena fixes a sandwich and Damon leans against the counter looking bored. He's not even said why he's here, and Elena isn't quite sure she wants to ask. He's talking about last night, at The Grill, and he's not using that voice, so Elena takes that as a good thing. Kind of.
"So you recovered miraculously fast," Damon says to Elena.
She half turns, glancing at him out of the corner of her as she cuts her sandwich into triangles. "Hmmm." She makes a sound in her throat that hopefully doesn't give too much away.
"You're a terrible liar, Elena."
She whirls around to face his smug grin. "I am not a liar."
The suddenly Damon is right in front of her, the kind of way so that she can see the muscles in his jaw, the spark to his eyes that says he's about to do something.
Then the something comes in the form of Damon kissing her.
Elena doesn't even pause to think. She just leans her head forward and tilts up a little and for the first time ever -- neither of them pull away.
After a moment they hesitate, lips brushing against lips, before they both gather that the other one isn't going anywhere. Then it becomes a quick and hard rush of tongues and teeth, lips slick as they slide against one another, bodies pressing together tightly. Damon pushes her back up against the counter, and she can feel the hard ridge of it pressing into her lower back, turning to pain after a moment. She takes it all. Damon wraps a strong arm around her waist, uses the other to press down on the bench and keep her pinned there.
God, does Elena want this, she's wanted it for so damn long. She doesn't stop to think about how Damon might have been brainwashing her with subliminal messages for the past month or two with his murmurs and sexual confessions. All she cares about is the ache in her body she's been trying to get rid of and how it's suddenly burst into a hot, burning want. She makes a small mewl into his mouth and feels their teeth clack together as Damon's kiss becomes harder again.
"We could," Damon murmurs against the corner of her mouth, "possibly go to your bedroom?"
Elena doesn't even have to think about it (not to mention her brain has somehow melted out of her skull and is residing somewhere in a messy pile on the kitchen floor so she couldn't even if she tried) but Damon is talking in that low murmur and she's pressed up to close against his body she can feel the rumble in his chest. She just nods, half writhing against his chest and running her palm down his arm to twine their fingers together, kissing him hurriedly on the mouth before leading him to the stairs.
She can feel the impatience in his steps as he follows her, but he doesn't try to use his inhuman speed to make the trip any quicker, choosing to let her take control of the situation. That just excites her more, urging her to skip the next few steps and hit the landing a bit harder than she should have, earning a chuckle from Damon. He's cupping her ass from behind, fingers slipping to the waistband of her jeans and teasing the skin between the denim and her tee shirt. She reaches behind to grasp his hand, fingers clenching around his wrist as she pulls.
Somewhere in between closing the door behind them and falling delicately onto her bed, Elena pulls away from Damon's heated kisses and says, "but you always talked about other girls--"
"Elena," he says, eyes rolling and condescension dripping from every word, "I was wooing you."
She leans back on her elbows and looks up at him with a dawning smile, "that was your idea of wooing me?"
"Well," says Damon, and punctuates the word with a rough kiss to her lips, "I did try for over a year to do it the original way." He smirks as she averts her eyes, and chooses to fit their legs together snugly. "With the 'I love you's' and 'being the better man' thing." He shrugs lightly and grins, "I figured doing it this way might be a better option."
"Seducing me with stories of your sex life?" Elena is vaguely amused, but the amusement goes and her nerves sky rocket as Damon kisses a trail down her neck and his fingers work on the zipper of her jeans.
"It worked, didn't it?" Damon says, and tugs her jeans down her legs easily. He drops them off the side of the bed, palms running up under her calves and then atop her thighs, fingers dragging teasingly over her damp underwear.
"Yes," she says through clenched teeth, fingers cording through his dark hair as he kisses a thigh. She gives a soft tug and he moves up to settle in between her naked thighs so his face is level with hers. "You," says Elena, and searches for an appropriate word, "are incorrigible."
His grin shows that it's more of a compliment than anything else. "And you," he says and rolls his hips up to hers, delighting in the breathless little sounds she makes, "are far too stubborn for your own good." He licks a stripe of wet, hot heat up her neck and nips the skin. "Why couldn't you just give in to me?"
"And let you win that easy?" Elena says. "Never."
Damon grins, and lets Elena pulls him down for a kiss.