Advent Calender December 18
Title; Little voice
Pairing; Stefan/Katherine (with hints of others)
Words; 450
“I know you love her, but we’re brothers, you can’t stay mad forever,” words spill, Lexi not yet buried.
“I know you love her, but we’re best friends, you can’t stay mad forever,” Klaus cajoles over a crackling phone line.
He stares at the coffins. The little voice in his head tells Stefan that this whole situation is his own fault, and he should stop picking men based on how similar they are to his brother. Katherine closes the phone, draws him into a hug.
His taste in women varies even less; and he’s not just talking about the obvious, it’s not just coincidence that Elena feels she has so much in common with Rebekah.
And then of course there’s the obvious. Stefan loses his fingers in Katherine’s curls, wonders briefly whether his brother is doing the same with Elena, a part of him hopes he is.
Stefan was telling the truth when he told Elena he doesn’t see her in any way as Katherine. He isn’t lying when he tells Katherine he doesn’t see her in any way as Elena. The thing is it shouldn’t be that easy; they are more similar than twins; no one can compartmentalise with that terrible level of accuracy. He wonders how neither of them realise just how fucked up that makes him. They probably think he’s just exaggerating.
Katherine’s arms coil around him like synchronous serpents. The voice in his head points out that at least this time he’s thinking of Elena whilst with Katherine, that’s progress, it comforts him in the way that veering closer to normal always does so he chooses not to contradict the voice. Even though it has utterly misunderstood the difference between comparison and mistaken identity.
Stefan kisses her hard; mainly because resisting takes thought and he’s tired, wants to do something and nothing at all, and it strikes him that this is the most meaningful thing he could do that doesn’t matter. They perfunctorily undress each other, not with urgency but rather the desire to get it done. He balks at the idea of doing it on a coffin, so they fuck on the floor instead.
At some random moment the just-for-the-sake-of-it sex, breaks, dies and twists into something else entirely. Stefan hates epiphanies; they’re almost never good. The voice titters about how his taste in both men and women is dreadful, says he should take a vow of celibacy if he wants to see the next decade. Sensing encroaching hesitation Katherine’s fingernails, jaws, thighs tighten. He remembers, want and need entwine maddeningly through him, and he knows he’s lost. He also knows he’s falling into another turbine ready to rip him to shreds yet again.
Surrenders anyway.