Humidity | Damon/Elena | M | ~4500
Humidity
Damon/Elena | M | ~4500
'Can I tell you the rest tomorrow?' Elena wakes up before dawn to some realizations of her own, and she and Damon conquer them together, only to confront them in the morning.
::
I moved to the coast, under a mountain
Swam in the ocean, slept on my own
At dawn I would watch the sun cut ribbons through the bay
I'd remember all the things my mother wrote
::
"Damon, seriously?"
It sounds bitchy and exasperated, but it isn't meant quite like that. Elena has begrudgingly become used to seeing Damon in her bedroom, on her bed, on her window seat, going through her lingerie. Oh look, she can even make a list now.
"We got Mikael," is what he says in reply, hands behind his head and looking far too comfortable atop her sheets.
Elena pauses. "What?" She blinks. "How?"
"No idea, I guess Katherine came through." He doesn't look too surprised at this, and after a moment Elena realizes that neither is she. Though it's not something they should take for granted, Katherine actually taking one for the team and keeping her word. "The plan's in motion," he continues, "see, I told you I had it." Elena looks at his wide eyes and tilts her head, brows rising. "Go ahead," he says a little flatly, "kick, yell, scream. I'm sure you've been planning your rant all day."
Elena rolls her eyes at skyward and moves to her bed. "I'm not going to yell at you," she says as she pulls back the covers.
"Why not?" Damon asks as she fluffs her pillow. "I went behind your back, freed Stefan, and you know what? It backfired. He's an even bigger dick than ever, just now, he's a dick that's on our side."
Elena takes a beat to look down at the tiny, barely there smile on Damon's lips. "I'm not mad. I'm tired. I just - I want to go to bed," and God is that the truth, but even as she pulls at the sheets beneath Damon's body they don't budge.
"You know I think Mikael's weapon's a stake because he mentioned something about it," says Damon, even as Elena gives another exasperated tug on her sheets.
"Well they must have carved it from the white oak tree before they burned it down," she replies, stilling her efforts with the blankets.
Damon turns his head to the right to look at her. "So I was right."
Elena looks skywards and doesn't answer. Instead, she grabs the corner of her blankets and tosses them heavily over Damon's body, plopping herself down in bed.
"After all that, the wall lead us to Mikael." Damon says as Elena gets into bed, pulling the blankets back up over her body.
"It lead us to more than just that," she says, trying to get comfortable. "I think I got Rebekah on our side, too." Though she says this is a little contemplatively, because she's not too sure.
Damon looks interested. "Really?" he says, shifting over to face her. "What'd you learn from her?"
"I learned that she's just a girl," says Elena as she lays on her back and looks straight ahead. "That she lost her mom too young, and she loves blindly and recklessly even if it consumes her." Elena pauses, takes a breath and doesn't look at Damon immediately because him being here, right here beside her in her bed, has to make her see what she's been dwelling on all evening. When she does, she turns her head almost sharply, and he's looking at her with those patient eyes that she's never seen him give anyone but her. She blinks at him, and his brows furrow, and he almost looks confused. Elena turns to her side to face him and snuggles further down into her blankets. "And when all is said and done, that there's nothing more important than the bond of family." She looks at him as she says this, because she knows that this is the truth, that truth that she and Damon both know.
Damon rolls onto his right side, mirroring her, with a hand beneath his head. "You should tell that to my brother."
They share a half laugh in the near dark.
Elena's smile drops from her face as she looks at him. "I'm not mad at you for letting him out, Damon." She stretches over to turn off her lamp, bathing them fully in darkness. She meets his eyes with her own. "I think that you're going to be the one to save him from himself," she says softly. Damon watches her quietly. "It won't be because he loves me," she continues, "it'll be because he loves you." And she says it with so much conviction and so much truth in her voice, she knows he believes her. His eyes lower slightly at the weight and honesty of her soft words. She exhales softly and nestles her head into her pillow. "Can I tell you the rest tomorrow?" she asks quietly, almost a murmur, as she feels her eyes become heavy.
Damon's lips curve only just. "Sure."
Elena shuts her tired eyes, and with the heavy weight of Damon's body next to her and his eyes on her, she falls asleep.
::
Two thousand years, I've been in that water
Two thousand years, sunk like a stone
Desperately reaching for nets
That the fishermen have thrown
Trying to find, a little bit of hope
::
Elena shifts in that time between asleep and awake. There are fragments of tears and faces in her dreamscape, of her mother and father and aunt. She reaches for them with curled and shaking fingers, and then her eyes open and she's lying in the dark. It's hot and humid and her singlet is sticking to her skin, but as she lies there and regains her bearings, she can hear the pitter patter of rain on the roof outside. A summer shower in the early morning, her mother used to say, so that the grass stays green and the flowers grow. Elena tries not to let tears prick at her eyes at the thought of her mother.
Too late, a tear tracks hot and wet down her cheek, and she untangles her hand from the blankets to wipe it away.
"Elena."
She feels her heart constrict and her voice clog up her throat.
"Elena, it's me."
She turns wide eyes to where Damon is laying beside her, a dark shadow on the sheets.
"What are you doing here?" She demands thickly, trying to throw away all signs of her tears.
"I fell asleep," he answers simply, as if she's going to believe that.
She doesn't say anything though, because since Andie died she hasn't seen Damon with any women, and she knows what it's like to sleep alone at night. She knows what it's like to have felt the comfort of a warm body pressed up against your own, then to have to lay by yourself for nights on end. She's not going to begrudge Damon human company, even if this time it's kind of teetering on the boundary line.
The air is hot and heavy around her, the summer night making itself known, and the droplets of rain are steady and staccato as they hit the roof and the ground and pavement and the road. Together they are a tiny symphony, coupled with her breathing, and Elena wonders what this sounds like Damon. She wonders what he can hear with his advanced senses, see and smell and taste. She never asked Stefan the little things, God, she asked Damon if vampires could procreate for heaven's sake. She hadn't even thought about it with Stefan, the night before when she'd laid beneath him and rolled the condom on with her bottom lip between her teeth, watching her own hands work. She had treated Stefan like a normal, human, teenage boy. Back then she sometimes forgot he wasn't. Sometimes.
Stefan.
She glances at Damon next to her. He is still above the sheets, which is good she supposes, because being under them would definitely be crossing some kind of line. He hardly looks as if he's moved, whether he has or hasn't she doesn't know. She'd wake up to Stefan sleeping beside her, sometimes curled around her, protecting her even in his sleep. Or, his closed-eye pretending to be asleep thing, which he was really good at doing. She asked him if he dreamed once. He told her he did, sometimes more vividly than as a human and sometimes less. She hadn't asked what he dreamed about, because he looked sad when he answered, with downcast eyes and tight lips.
She wonders when life became complicated, and not when she started dating a vampire, not then. Further than that, to when her parents died and her life rollercoaster flipped out of control. Was it complicated then? With a breath Elena realizes that life has always been complicated, and it always will be complicated.
Her life is not controlled by Coppola, and pictures of her and Caroline and Bonnie weren't pictorials for Cosmo, sad indie music doesn't play as her tears start to fall, and not everything she's ever said comes out as poised and poignant as she'd like it to be. Nothing will ever be easy, nothing will ever look as good as the sun drenched polaroids from summer that her father used to take. Being hurt or upset or angry can never be romanticized, and your heart will be broken and mended many times over. School will go on, and then finish, and college will take its place. Homework will turn to work and stress will take over, and nothing is ever as beautiful as you thought it could be.
She gets it now.
Lying there in the dark with Damon next to her, with the summer rain on her window, Elena gets it. They will try and try and try until there's nothing left to bring Stefan back from the brink, she will give all of herself and more to helping him find his humanity. She will give up her own life and make sacrifices to save him, and so will Damon. Damon will love her fiercely from afar, and resolve not to flirt with her but then flirt anyway. He will be intense and serious and honest with her, and he will fight with everything he has for his brother, just to toss everything off with a smirk.
"What happened to you today?" Elena asks quietly, and her voice is so soft she wonders if Damon weren't a vampire if he'd still be able to hear.
"I let Stefan out of his cave and we found Mikael." He tells her as if he hasn't already.
Elena doesn't roll to look at him, she looks up at her pale ceiling and bites her lip. "No, what happened to you today. Seriously."
There is a beat and time pause, and Elena wonders if Damon is going to answer her.
"My brother managed to save me, again," he says, a little dryly, and Elena doesn't move. "Mikael had his hand wrapped around my heart, literally, and Stefan found a loophole in Klaus' compulsion so that I didn't die." He says all this as if it's nothing, and that's when Elena rolls onto her side and searches for his face in the dark.
"I know you don't tell me these things," she starts, "I know you go out and you get hurt and you brush it off." Her voice sounds funny to her own ears. "I know you don't tell me things, Damon." She bites her lip. "But I wish you did."
"And give you something else to worry about besides my dickhead brother?" Damon rolls his eyes.
"I worry about you anyway," she says honestly. "I worried when we were up in the mountains and there was a full moon. I worry when you deflect my phone calls and hang up on me, because I know there's something you're not saying."
"Elena -"
"I already worry about you Damon, because I care." There, now she's getting closer to the truth, now she can see the stillness of his eyes and the set of his mouth.
"I know you do," he says quietly. "But when Stefan comes back and you go back to him, Elena, where does that leave me? The guy that you care about enough to not be killed, but not enough for you to love fully?" There's a cold, sad edge to his voice and all Elena wants to do is touch him.
So she does.
Her hand snakes out from under the blankets to grab awkwardly at his wrist. Her fingers slide up until they meet his palm, and then she clasps their hands together. The feel of his skin on hers, no play-fighting, no training, no abuse, just the soft touch of his palm to hers, sends shivers all down her spine.
"Elena." Damon's voice is low and smooth and bordering on sensuous, and it ignites something in Elena's body that she's felt before tonight.
It's the same feeling she gets when they're training together and he gets to close, body brushing up against hers. It's the feeling she gets when she meets his eyes across the room and they're smoldering. It's a twist in her gut that leaves something hot and heavy in the lower regions of her stomach. It's the ache between her legs that doesn't subside at night until she's slipped her hand down her panties and gotten herself off.
And she'd never say it out loud, but gone are the days that Stefan's face was the one she saw when her eyes rolled back into her head and she came. No, now he's been replaced by blue eyes and black hair, a wicked smile and a raised brow.
"Damon," and she isn't quite sure if she meant to say it out loud, but she did, and suddenly they're both moving.
She presses up against him as eagerly as she can, but it's awkward because of the blankets. She sits up more and drags Damon's jacket from his chest, tossing it to the ground to run her hands over his arms. The muscles tense beneath her touch, and the feel of his skin so free beneath her fingers fills her with a heady rush. She wants more. Her fingers flit to the bottom of his shirt, prying and pulling to get it over his head. He lets her, aids her, and when her hand explore his naked chest he pushes the sheets down to get a hold of her hip.
"Damon, Damon, Damon," she is panting, and they haven't kissed yet, but her lips are on his cheek and his breath ghosts across the side of her face.
Then they shift and tilt and... there.
It's a mix between perfect and embarrassing, because Elena has wanted this for a while longer than she's willing to admit, and so her eagerness is offset with her awkward, sexually frustrated teenage self. Damon is all power and dominance, and the force of his lips on hers as her body going into over drive. Their teeth clack, and instead of it being sore and awkward, it sends them into more of a frenzy to get rid of the sheets and clothes that separate them.
Somewhere along the way Damon has lost his shoes and socks, and Elena has finally toss the blankets halfway down the bed. Damon's hand slides up beneath her singlet and over her breast, and she lets her head fall back so he can kiss the exposed line of her neck.
She can feel him smile as his thumb brushes over her nipple, and she almost propels herself into his lap, hands tugging greedily at the zipper of his jeans.
Somewhere between him pulling off her singlet and her undoing the zip of his pants, Elena thinks, 'am I really going to do this?' And then Damon is hot and hard in her hand and she thinks, 'yes, yes I am.' He pushes her down and pulls of her little shorts, and Elena has a moment to feel shy before Damon puts strong hands on her knees and forces her legs apart. She is open and bare and exposed, and her back arches up of its own accord when Damon trails a hand up her thigh and round to her ass.
"Damon," she keens, voice a whine in the night mixed in with the rain.
"Shhh," he reminds her, "Jeremy's asleep."
Oh, she almost forgot about her brother. But he's one of the last things on her mind because Damon is between her legs and kissing her thighs, and God, she's not been this aroused in a long time.
"Elena," Damon purrs against her skin, and Elena goes to say something back but Damon runs his fingers down the length of her slit and says, "God you're wet."
Anything Elena might have wanted to say flew out the window right there and then. Her eyes roll back and her hips arch up, and Damon scrapes his teeth down the inside of her thigh. Her hands came up to card through his hair, teasing and pulling him closer to where she wanted. He obviously wasn't in a patient mood, because he followed the tug of her hands and laughed a low, smug laugh before licking deftly between the slick folds of her cunt, tongue moving up to press into her clit.
Elena's body sings with pleasure and her grip tightens on Damon's hair as she pants out his name. She feels the slight pressure against her entrance and then Damon's working a finger inside her, murmuring, 'you're so tight,' against her clit. She knows she is, she hasn't had sex in God knows how long, and all she wants is more. She says so, and she doesn't even have to look to know that Damon is smirking, even as his tongue and fingers go to work on her.
He has her coming in seconds, short, sharp light behind her eyes as her body is raked with pleasure. He slinks up the bed, and Elena lies boneless for a moment before finding the strength to open her eyes and look up at him.
"I'm going to fuck you," he says conversationally, and Elena wants nothing more than to retort something sarcastic, but he thrusts inside her and she is incoherent.
He swallows her moan with a deep kiss, slow and smooth, but he's rough from the start, thrusting inoutinout without taking a beat. Elena's hands fly to to his shoulders for support, melding herself to him as she opens her legs further and allows him in. Damon's hand curls around her thigh and pulls, opening her up wider, and the sudden move has her startled and clenching down on his cock, hard enough for them both to mutter curses and groan.
They're moving shadows in the dark, and somewhere it registers in Elena's mind that this probably isn't the right thing to do, but it's the right thing to do right now, and that's all that matters. She wants Damon, and as much as she doesn't want to admit it, she loves him, too. She does. She is just like Rebekah, loving blindly and recklessly, except her love is wrapped around the Salvatore brothers. Both of them.
"Elena." Damon's voice is commanding, and she opens her eyes to watch him above her, sleek and muscled, thrusting in and out of her body. Their eyes stay connected as he moves his whole body while he thrusts, so it's not just a movement of the hips. The shadows play across his body and Elena is caught with the word beautiful in her throat. She groans, long and loud as he hits her right there, and she hears a sharp growl.
She looks up to see Damon's eyes filled with scarlet, sharp white teeth gleaming in the night, dark veins fanning from his eyes. There is no fear in Elena, not one bit, and rises up to kiss his mouth, mindful of the razor sharp teeth between his lips. Damon's groan is deep, and it vibrates through his whole body. In turn, Elena clenches around him and feels him falter for the first time in his thrusts. Her hand runs up her body to tease her own nipple, and she drops back to the bed and arches her back, feeling wanton and passionate with Damon above her. She is sweaty and sex-soaked and delirious with pleasure, and she loves every second of it. Her hands run up Damon's sides as she pushes her hips up, meeting his thrusts, and lets her fingers feel the play of muscle beneath his skin.
Her fingers curl around his neck, drawing their eyes together while she pants for breath in the hot room. The sheets have slid off the bed, it is just them, bare and sweat-slicked and they do not care.
Something happens, and Damon's head is in the juncture between her shoulder and her head, and she feels teeth sharp on her neck. Neither of them still, and after a second Elena realizes she is feeling blunt, human teeth upon her skin, and not sharp canines. Damon backs off, but he starts fucking her relentlessly now, and somewhere in her fogged brain Elena wonders how he knew this was how she wanted it? Rough and unsteady with unbridled passion. Damon's cock hits that spot again inside her, and she clenches down on him and groans.
"Look at me," he orders, and her eyes snap open to see him staring down at her. "Come for me." It's a command, and Elena follows through with it happily. Her body sings as she comes, finger nails digging into his back and she's sure his skin is breaking. She is panting roughly and wildly and then she comes again and she mixes his name with a litany of 'oh God, oh God' and shaken, ragged moans.
Damon thrusts hard into her pliable body and follows moments later, collapsing almost bonelessly atop her, feeling their sweat slick skin rub against one another. She runs her fingers down his back, and up again, fingers finding his hair and trailing through it gently while she regains her breath. This was not what she had planned for her night, for her week, for her life. When Damon shifts she feels him, still inside her, and he rolls them so that she's cradled into his body, head resting on his arm. He reaches down and yanks up a single sheet, nothing more, and drapes it over them gently.
"I didn't peg you for a cuddler," she murmurs against his chest.
Damon presses his lips her to her head. "Vampires have feelings too, you know."
"I know," she says, and burrows her head into his chest. "I know."
::
Me, I was holding, all of my secrets soft and hid
Pages were folded, then there was nothing at all
So if in the future I might need myself a savior
I'll remember what was written on that wall
::
Elena wakes the next morning to bright light and cool breath on her nose. She blinks the sleep from her eyes to see sharp cheekbones and dark hair on the pillows beside her. The air is lighter than it was in the night, but her room smells of sweat and sex, a reminder of what transpired hours ago. Elena waits for the embarrassment and mortification to kick in, because she was so sure it was. Nothing happens. No feeling of impending doom, no regret and shame. In her heart she knows that without a doubt she loves Stefan - but she knows she loves Damon, too. Something clicks in her head of a not too distant memory.
'It's okay to love them both, Elena.'
Is it though? Is it really?
"Good morning, Elena." Damon says with closed eyes. Elena is still very much naked, and so is he, and somewhere she thinks that this would be the time to tell him to get up and to get out, but she doesn't.
"Morning," she mumbles, resting her head back on his arm. She feels the tension ease from his muscles as he realizes she isn't going to hit him. It saddens her to think that's how he felt. She brushes her fingers across his chest. "This means a lot to me, Damon."
"This means a lot to me, Elena," he repeats, but there is no mockery in his voice. "It doesn't change anything, though."
Elena looks up at him sharply and sees the face of a resigned man. She realizes that he thinks this is a one time thing - a desperate, sex crazed fling. "This changes everything Damon. Believe me when I say I'm still going to do everything I can to get Stefan back, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything we have." She taps his chest lightly at the 'we.'
"You're the one that told me you didn't want me to forget what I was feeling when Stefan was gone. I felt a lot of things last name, Damon, and they're not things I'm going to forget."
Damon's eyes are soft, and his fingers play with the loose waves of her bed-head hair. "I know you love Stefan, I know you always will."
Elena moves to cup his cheek with her hand. "And I love you, Damon. I don't know where this is going to end up, or how, but I'm not leaving you." These words sound strange and new, she knows, coming from her to Damon's ears. She wonders if he's ever heard them before. She wonders if he's ever been loved like this before.
Damon smiles his sad smile and brings his lips to her foreheads, tugging her close into his arms. "Let's get through today, Elena. We'll worry about us later."
"No Damon," she says firmly, "I'm worrying about us now. This isn't a fling, this isn't some kind of booty-call." She tilts her head up to kiss his jaw line. "This is us and it is complicated and messy and I don't know how it's going to work out but hey - hey, look at me -" she tries to smile, "you're not giving up on Stefan, so don't give up on us either. We're going to get through this Damon, everything, all of it, no matter what."
"Elena," he starts, and she shakes her head and cuts him off with a chaste kiss.
"You can trust me, Damon."
He is silent for a very long moment. "I do."
::
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you my friend, I'd learn to have just a little bit of trust
::
Fin
::
So this is me, attempting to get back into writing! I'm a little rusty, can't you tell? Hang in there with me, I'm trying to get all this back on track. The hiatus will make for a long period of waiting, and I have a lot of stuff to post here. Let's see if it makes it through the grinder!