Happy Holidays, bitchygrrl!
Title: Control
Recipient: bitchygrrl
Author: swirlsofblue
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Klaus/Stefan, Damon/Stefan, brief appearances from Caroline and Elena.
Word Count: 5,900
Warnings: D/s, blood play, rough sex, incest, bad language.
Summary: Klaus and Damon help Stefan deal with his issues; includes angst, humour, d/s and masochistic tendencies. Written for the prompt: And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of your heart you’ll never see again.
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy.
Everyone else refuses the cure. That leaves Stefan. He’s waiting for someone else to choose his answer for him.
Really, he has no choice; he has to be the person he tries to be.
“I’m taking the cure,” Stefan states, pouring coffee, thinking about how he won’t be able to feel the dark notes of bitterness so clearly anymore; he will have to find something else to remind him of them.
“No you’re not,” Damon nonchalantly replies.
“I’m sorry,” Stefan says softly, sighing at the anger dawning on Damon’s face, he doesn’t need to look further to know what’s underneath the anger.
He and Damon made no oath for always and forever, their promise was silent and much more iron clad. This is a betrayal, Stefan understands that.
***
Stefan wants to be alone, doesn’t want people to see him transition, but doesn’t have the heart to tell any of them. They’re all here; it’s a big day. He drinks the elixir and waits. It feels like being slowly wrapped in insulation; senses dulling and weakness settling into his bones. And yet he feels good, feels alive.
Elena gives him a hug and leaves first; she knows she isn’t one of the people he needs here anymore. Caroline has groceries and is re-organising the house. Stefan doesn’t mention that he and Damon are already gourmet chefs and he’s not exactly going to struggle with the food situation. It’s comforting that she’s there, helping. Damon is cleaning Stefan’s room because ‘Stefan could catch his death in that mess’. He knows his brother has secretly been waiting for an excuse to clean it for decades so with reluctance and wry amusement he lets that go too.
He sits eating dinner and smiles at the fullness that has seemed just beyond his grasp for over a century.
***
Klaus turns up at the boarding house later in the evening, probably looking for Elena now that they have the cure.
“You’re human,” he says, words filled with amusement but also a hint of fear.
“Yes,” Stefan answers, there’s nothing more to say, and he’s tired of everyone’s’ questions. The hybrid says nothing else only sits back with his feet up.
Klaus stays overnight, Stefan doesn’t know why or what he’s up to.
***
Stefan goes to class, does his homework, hangs out with friends; he’s going to try as hard as possible to have a normal human life. This will be his last year of high school. He wanders the hallways, at some point Elena’s at his side, at some point Caroline, at some point Bonnie. They’re worried about him. He just wants to be alone. He isn’t sleeping enough--can’t quite force himself into human sleep patterns--and is exhausted. He’s thinking too much, can’t shut down, feels trapped under the weight of himself.
***
Damon enters his room with no top on but there’s nothing new there, what he does next however...
His brother pulls him in crashing their mouths together.
“What are you doing?” Stefan says, shoving Damon away.
“I figured if you’re going to pretend you were never a vampire and just pick up where you left off, that we should, you know, pick up where we left off,” Damon says affecting a suggestive leer.
“I’m not picking up where I left off, I’m starting fresh; starting a different life,” Stefan argues.
But he still goes along with it when Damon pushes him onto the bed.
Damon moves slowly pressing worshipful kisses down his chest. Stefan thinks this is one of those things Damon has wanted to do for a long time but never allowed himself to, so Stefan doesn’t tell his brother that he isn’t made of glass.
Stefan’s hand trails along his back and when it reaches his face Damon snaps himself out of it, movements quickening and gaining purpose.
***
There’s an urge, he buries it deep; shrugs it off as a residual, compartmentalises it away into his vampire life that never existed.
Klaus follows him down the hallway, leans against the locker beside his own, like this is what he does every day.
“Why’re you following me?” Stefan demands.
“You’re mine, I can’t let people take liberties with what’s mine,” Klaus says, grinning at him.
“I’m not yours and I don’t need your protection,” Stefan shouts angrily.
“This ire isn’t just for me. What’s wrong, love?”
“Leave me alone,” Stefan hisses.
***
Klaus has made himself at home in the spare bedroom nearest to Stefan’s. Damon and Klaus are hovering around him like shadows. Stefan feels he should write Elena a long letter of apology about the constant attempts to protect her as though at any moment she could fall down on the sidewalk and die.
He convinces Caroline to help him bust out and they spend the day at a carnival three towns over. They ride the dodgems and big wheel and laugh while eating cotton candy and it’s fun but in the quiet moments it also just reminds him of how different he is to the other people here.
“Everyone is different, everyone has stress in their life and they’re trying to get away from it for a little while, to let go and have fun,” Caroline says.
And he thinks if Caroline can draw a parallel to ‘stressed-out’ humans while being a vampire, Stefan really has no reason to complain anymore.
“Why didn’t you want to turn human again?” he asks.
“It’s just not me anymore and I’m not willing to change who I am, I’m not willing to step backwards,” she answers seriously (it’s the first time she hasn’t responded with a joke).
Stefan knows that’s probably his problem; he always tries to change himself and it never really works.
***
He won’t admit it but it’s easier with Klaus. When the hybrid is the one walking beside him he doesn’t have to worry about lies, there’s a lack of expectation. It doesn’t matter what Klaus thinks of him which makes it simpler to just be. Of course that just makes the need to fight back all the stronger.
“Still not sleeping?” Klaus asks. They’re walking towards the exit; it’s the end of the day.
“Look, I get it, I’m human now and you’re scared some big bad monster is going to get me, it’s adorable. But I can handle myself so you don’t have to walk me home and carry my books,” Stefan jokes.
“What’s got you thinking so much that you’re so exhausted? The whole human thing not what it cracked up to be?” Klaus asks, ignoring Stefan’s statement.
Stefan holds in a wince at how close the words hit and at the sudden thought that Klaus is probably the only one he could tell the truth to.
***
Stefan walks down the stairs to Damon cooking breakfast and Klaus reading a newspaper. This is apparently his life now. He throws his books into his bag and heads out to his car because he doesn’t want to be late for the test first period.
He looks down at the question sheet the chemistry teacher has put in front of him, for once it actually matters for reasons other than Stefan wanting it to matter. These will be the grades he applies to college with, no compelling this time; he’s going to do everything for real. It’s not too hard, he knows most of the answers, still chastises himself for not knowing the other ones; he’s a hundred and sixty three years old for heaven’s sake. He looks around at the others, his friends, all with their heads down and thinks about how for them it’s the beginning, this will probably be the first time of many times they’ll go to High school; even if you don’t want to it really cuts down on the years you can spend in a place if you say you’re older than you are when you turn up.
***
They’re standing in one of the school’s many hidden alcoves.
He falls down into a kiss with Klaus, reveals his secret in the breath between their tongues.
“I still want to kill people.”
It’s a relief. But maybe it doesn’t count; telling someone who won’t care. Maybe that’s the point. The urge is not real until he says it out loud. But he’s in a forest with no one to hear it; Klaus will only love him more for it.
“Okay,” Klaus says evenly, Stefan can tell that’s not what he wants to say but that he also doesn’t want this moment to stop.
The Original’s hands are on Stefan’s head, pushing their mouths together again urgently. His lips are smoother than Stefan expects probably because Stefan’s human now and can’t feel the ridges and cracks with the same detail as before. This means more to Klaus than it does to him but that hardly matters. It’s a good distraction that’s all.
They pull away slowly and there’s a shine in Klaus’s eyes that tells tales of the twenties and friendship and gold-tinted history. Klaus doesn’t tell him to stay and Stefan doesn’t say he has to leave, they just stand there for a moment, lips glistening with saliva, and then Stefan goes home to his brother.
***
Stefan knows that tonight his brother will be able to smell the scent of another on him but Damon says nothing so Stefan chooses not to mention it either.
Damon’s body is familiar but their fucking has never been comfortable and it still isn’t now even though they’ve settled into some semblance of routine, pattern, of domesticity. It’s a frenetic mess of limbs and taking what they want and giving nothing back and silently knowing that taking it all is what they’re giving anyway.
He falls asleep in his brother’s arms and for once sleeps soundly.
***
There are blank diary pages longing for names. He doesn’t have the luxury of suppression anymore; the vampire is gone, but the monster was here all along. He sees them like phantoms on a page (not the ones he has already killed, before he would think of them guilt-ridden) names of people he knows, who he would like to cut and saw and fashion their limbs into carefully compartmentalised pieces.
Today his mind is on the hazel eyed blonde in math, whose voice was always too shrill for Stefan’s liking. He doesn’t know how he notices it more now that he can barely hear.
There’s blood in his mind’s eye, forming a kiddie pool around his ankles.
***
He enters the parking lot and math girl is fiddling with her squirrel key-ring. Klaus is of course sitting atop someone’s beat-up ford. The rest of the place is deserted; Stefan looks back and forth between them, contemplating. And decides to choose the lesser of two evils. He strides up to Klaus maintaining a carefully stoic expression and shoves him down onto the asphalt and with only the car to hide them pulls the hybrid’s shirt over his head.
Klaus flips them over letting out a guttural growl before tearing away Stefan’s shirt and then ripping open his trousers. As his bare butt hits the ground he’s momentarily preoccupied by how much more annoying this is while human; the cold seeping through his body and the stone more uncomfortable even though he feels its minutia less. But then Klaus is already beginning to push a finger into Stefan’s hole and he’s shocked by how fast everything is happening.
“Wait,” Stefan says because he’s suddenly afraid he has no control over what’s about to happen.
Klaus gives him an impatient glare but he does stop.
“Unfriendly floor,” Stefan says to cover, picking up his jacket and placing it beneath him.
Klaus smirks and continues stretching him out before carefully pushing inside him and quickly setting a rhythm.
“Oh,” Stefan gasps, cutting himself off before he cries out something stupid like ‘God’, it’s unbelievable, probably a by-product of a thousand years of experience.
***
If Stefan becomes more tolerant of Klaus’s presence in the boarding house over the next few weeks it’s only because he’s fucking him. There’s no relationship.
He goes to Damon when he wants the sex to mean something and goes to Klaus when he wants it to not. But sometimes he finds meaning where there should be none and sometimes he searches for meaning that no longer exists.
It doesn’t count as cheating; they both know what the other is up to, and him and Damon have never been exclusive in their almost one hundred and fifty year history.
***
“May I have a drink,” Klaus asks, fingering a vein in Stefan’s neck.
Klaus is being surprisingly polite about the whole drinking from him thing, it’s taken him two weeks longer than Damon to get around to it.
(I can’t be bothered to run down to the hospital, Damon says, giving Stefan a smirk and his patent eye move, be a good brother and give me a taste.
Stefan rolls his eyes and shoves his wrist in Damon’s face.
Damon drinks, urgently but only a little, then steps away like nothing’s wrong. Like that taste was enough, like he wouldn’t fall apart if he couldn’t have another.)
“Go ahead,” Stefan replies without hesitation.
Klaus bites down and blood flows hot and gushing into his mouth and is somehow better than anything he has ever tasted, like sitting on a world of ice and finding a glowing bright fire to warm him, loves the tension of his teeth pressing against tense muscle, blood flowing in rivulets. And Klaus knows; knows it isn’t real; knows Stefan is using him, but Stefan is also looking at him and there’s no hatred there for once and he can’t give this up.
Hands are grappling at him, Stefan’s hands for once pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and this, this is everything.
Stefan closes his eyes as he rides the high of Klaus drinking from him, all he can think of is that Klaus isn’t near enough, he needs him plastered against him, on him, inside him.
“Fuck me,” he demands, voice a ragged mess.
Klaus doesn’t need to be told twice, belts are pulled away so fast they could cut, and Klaus knows how Stefan wants it. They’re still standing, Klaus with a firm grip on his hips as he enters him in only three unforgiving motions. Stefan moans jutting his hips forward against Klaus’s brutal thrusts.
“Harder,” Stefan orders.
“Any harder and I’ll tear you apart, love,” Klaus says, pausing in his rough pace and placing a gentle kiss against his neck. Stefan grips his hair, pulling his head off his neck; sometimes Klaus likes to be gentle but Stefan’s not in the mood today. Today he needs Klaus to rip him apart and spill all the wrongness out.
Klaus simply carries on until coming a few seconds after Stefan.
“You know, sometimes I wonder why you’re here, love,” Klaus says nonchalantly--as if it isn’t a question--as they lie spent on the floor.
The person he is when he’s with Klaus doesn’t have to worry so much about the darkness of who he is. It’s easier.
“It’s just sex.”
He says and if they both believe it the words are as good as true.
***
Stefan complains about the new history teacher.
Like a cat leaving a half-dead sparrow at their master’s feet, Klaus brings her home, compelled to do Stefan’s bidding.
“Take her home,” Stefan says quietly, face blank.
“What did you think would happen?” Damon laughs at Klaus.
“That,” Klaus replies with a grin that somehow manages to be petulant, “I was getting bored with all of Stefan’s whining.”
“Then why’re you still here Klaus?” Stefan asks with frustration.
Klaus only rolls his eyes but Stefan is already overthinking his own words. The truth is he wants Klaus to still be here and it’s not just about sex anymore. But he can’t do this, can’t have this life after the cure, he can’t ruin his second chance and throw away the person he should be, he can’t fall back into the person he was and it’s too easy to fall when he’s with Klaus. He can’t be with Klaus and not be that wrong person.
***
“I love you.”
Stefan turns away, moving to leave the room.
Klaus grabs his arm and Stefan reflexively grabs Klaus’s arm in return; hands against forearms, wrists against wrists. Stefan has nothing to say so he just stands there looking into Klaus’s tear shimmering eyes. A week ago he might’ve said that this is not a relationship and that Klaus either accepts this for what it is or leaves but Stefan doesn’t know what it is anymore. He can’t let it be a relationship.
The hybrid slides his hand past Stefan’s, letting him go. It seems like they keep slipping through each other’s fingers every day.
***
Klaus is sitting alone at a dinner table designed for ten people and Stefan has to hold in a sigh at the image even though he’s seen it many times before; context is a bitch. Stefan places his plate on the table and shuffles a chair along until he’s right next to Klaus.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Stefan says.
“Don’t bother Stefan, I really don’t care.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“What do you want from me Stefan,” Klaus says angrily.
Stefan says silent for moment, carefully choosing words he has already chosen.
“I want you, all of you, not just for sex, for everything, every day,” Stefan tells him, hoping he can finish the conversation without using the word relationship.
“You want a relationship?” Klaus asks, rolling his eyes over the last word like he knew Stefan was avoiding it; he probably did. And Stefan knows he’s running out of spaces for the lies he tells himself so he answers with the truth.
“Yes.”
***
“You realise you two are practically the same person,” Stefan says.
For some reason they want him to choose between them. He doesn’t know how he got here but it was probably all his fault.
This is wrong; Stefan’s supposed to be the edge of the triangle not the centre. A part of him wants to repeat Elena’s words just to see Damon’s reaction. (I can’t lose either one of you.)
He thinks about who he should choose; it seems the right thing to do would be to choose Damon.
But Damon knows him too well; “stop pretending you’re not a selfish ass and do what you want.”
“Both,” is, in the end his answer; it’s the only answer he has within him.
***
Surprisingly Damon and Klaus accept this answer and unsurprisingly the ensuing one-upmanship gets messy. It starts off kind of amusing with odd gifts and surprise trips; Stefan appreciates things like signed first editions, weekends in Vegas and a painting of Stefan with his mother (he doesn’t ask where Klaus got that photo from). But at one point Klaus gives him a castle and then Damon buys him an island. And it just gets increasingly worse from there.
***
Klaus bites over one of the bite marks Damon left on his chest, devouring it, transmuting it into non-existence; into a messy splotch of blood and flesh, no fang holes to be seen.
Stefan would let either of them drink him dry. Maybe then the monster would finally be put to sleep (though he doesn’t have much hope anymore).
***
Klaus is still smarting at not being picked and it’s all just added salt.
The battle for one-upmanship is tiresome; and Damon has the edge in the knowledge of Stefan department.
Klaus has made a delicious looking, artistically crafted dessert, coloured with an array of fruit including pieces of mango, papaya, guava, pineapple etc.
Damon is in front of him in an instant, and he’s never appreciated just how fast vampires could move until he couldn’t do it anymore. His brother’s hand is around the bowl; dumping it in the garbage.
Stefan’s mouth opens, ready to chastise, and Klaus looks ready to rip Damon’s head off, when Damon simply says.
“He’s allergic.”
Stefan opens his mouth to protest angrily when it occurs to him that there are at least two ingredients present that he doesn’t remember having as a human (exotic fruit wasn’t exactly readily available in the 1850’s), but he would still know wouldn’t he?
“You were three and sick for days,” Damon replies to his confused expression.
A part of Stefan wants to eat the dessert anyway just to spite him.
***
Damon grabs him as soon as he walks through the door, battering him with kisses and hands roaming everywhere; clearly trying to commandeer his attention. In the next second he’s gone. Stefan looks around stunned and then sees Damon across the room pulling a stake out of himself and Klaus grinning.
“Klaus! No staking people!” Stefan yells, sighing with frustration as he runs his hands through his hair.
***
It’s a mess, Damon and Klaus cloying for his attention, fighting over who gets more time with him, nothing’s working. All Stefan can think about is how much of a monster he is for doing this to them and his focus is shifted to the monster again. Damon and Klaus aren’t his distraction anymore; they’re a magnifying glass causing all of Stefan’s urges to rise to the surface again.
He’s not hungry, he’s satisfied, has no need to pour hot red liquid down his throat. But he’s restless, desire to kill still strong in his veins. His fingers twitch.
“I can’t do this,” Stefan whispers, hands pulling through his hair.
“If you want to kill, just kill,” Klaus says.
“We’ll take a road trip and do it somewhere else,” is Damon’s contribution to the conversation.
“No. I’m not killing anyone,” Stefan snaps incredulously.
***
“Make me forget,” he asks Klaus, already knowing Damon will have none of it.
“You know compulsion doesn’t work like that, you can’t compel away a person’s urges without destroying a part of them,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes, “besides, it’s a glorious part of you, and I want all of you.”
“I can’t live like this, with the constant urge to kill, it’s tearing me apart,” Stefan argues.
“You did it for one hundred and forty seven years,” Klaus counters.
“I was a vampire then, it was different.”
“Why is it so much worse now?”
“Because I don’t feel guilty anymore.”
***
This is how it’s going to go. Stefan says when he’s figured out his solution. Because he’s not supposed to be in charge. And none of them are coping well with the current situation. The fighting needs to stop. Stefan needs to be able to deal with his issues. Without the guilt there’s nothing to stop him, without the guilt he can’t convince himself he’s not a monster and that’s bad when he is who he believes himself to be.
“We need some ground rules. First, no more fighting for my attention, you will both get time with me when I decide you do. Second, you both clearly need more control over the situation, so I’m going to wear something that indicates which one of you has time with me and you will be in complete control of everything that happens during that time; I will do whatever you say and you can do whatever you want unless I use my safe word. Third, you will have control over me and therefore it will be your responsibility to stop me from doing anything stupid like killing someone,” Stefan finishes, deliberately not making any mention of dominance or submission; they’re all old enough to know how this should work and he doesn’t want them to start joking around right now.
Games make things simple; no one quite knows who has the power when they’re not playing. No one quite knows how to navigate this thing without cast-iron rules.
“You really should just get over yourself and become a serial killer already,” Damon says.
“What’s the catch?” Klaus asks.
“There’s no catch, follow those rules and you have complete control no addendums.”
“Except the safe word,” Damon specifies, shooting Klaus a look which suggests he would eviscerate him if he hurt his brother, “I suppose those are reasonable terms.”
“They are agreeable,” Klaus adds.
He smiles; he knew both of them would jump at the chance for control.
Klaus buys him a sleek black collar and Damon has a gleam in his eye that says he’s going to find a better one until Stefan gives him a glare that clearly says he will not find fighting over collars impressive or sexy. So Damon, choosing to behave for once, just buys the same collar in midnight blue. Stefan chooses which collar to wear every day.
***
He spends a lot of time overthinking which collar to put on, if he’s going to put Damon and Klaus through it he should at least put himself through the ringer as well. He thinks about who has been more insecure lately, more broken lately, who needs him more. What he wants isn’t as important, after all he loves them both. This is what he tells himself.
It starts with a few broken glasses and bones and destroyed overly clean furniture but settles down after a few days when the three of them have gotten into a rhythm.
He looks over each collar in turn, fingering the black one, smelling the blue; as though they hold all the answers. Picks up the black collar and fastens it snugly around his neck, pressing with a comforting discomfort against his Adam’s apple.
***
Klaus lets out a thrilled smirk as he sees which collar he has on but quickly his mouth dips into a firm line as he comes to stand in front of Stefan. He takes Stefan upstairs to his room and places him on the bed.
“Whose are you Stefan?”
“Yours,” Stefan answers passionately.
“You’ve been bad haven’t you Stefan?”
“I keep having these bad yearnings, I want to do bad things,” Stefan admits guiltily.
He tells his confession and will take his punishment. He enjoys it more than he should (the self-aware part of him questions punishment that you have to ask for, especially when Klaus calls him his little masochist).
“You need to be punished. Kneel.”
Klaus gives the order and hums inside at Stefan’s submission; at the idea that Stefan is doing as he’s told not through obligation but because he wants to and Klaus finally has the power he has always wanted, needed. Stefan needs it too, needs to be controlled; held down and fixed. He moves to sit behind where his lover is kneeling on the bed and winds his arms around him slowly unbuttoning Stefan’s shirt and removing it.
“Stay still Stefan.”
The fangs slide in too gently, a knife slinking through butter, Stefan wants to move, jar them around, make them scrape against the bone, but he doesn’t. He’s been ordered to stay still.
Klaus withdraws and a moment later bites deeply into his shoulder and Stefan gasps in pain as Klaus follows it with two more quick vicious bites on his back. Stefan’s fingers twitch, longing to stroke his hardening cock. He doesn’t move.
He needs this. Needs it to hurt so he can feel regret. Needs to be controlled so the lack of guilt matters less.
“Lie down.”
He does as he’s told, letting out a hiss at the sting of his bite-laden back pushing into the mattress. Klaus is pulling off his trousers and underwear and Stefan can’t help but lift his hips in an attempt to gain more friction as they move over his crotch.
“Bad Stefan,” Klaus sings, “just for that I’m going to make you wait even longer.”
Hands whisper along his now naked thighs, purposefully moving everywhere except for where they’re desperately needed. Stefan gives a surprised cry as a bite lands on his inner thigh. Klaus moves upwards slower now, leaving a shallow bite on his abdomen and three more on his stomach and chest, it’s torturous having Klaus’s body so close and not being allowed to make contact.
Blood clings between the sheets and his skin creating a cool dampness, sliced through with a hot tongue licking it off. The tongue runs down Stefan’s body, drinking every stray line of blood. Stefan shivers with exhilaration, has to keep reminding himself to stay still regardless.
Finally Klaus reaches his cock and licks down the length swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it into his mouth. Klaus’s mouth is hot and wet and moving gloriously on his erection. Stefan bucks up into it and then makes an embarrassing whinnying sound as Klaus backs away and he loses contact.
“It looks like I’m going to have to hold you down to keep you still,” Klaus informs him with a wicked smirk.
Fingers grip his hips mercilessly; there’ll be deep bruises there tomorrow. And then the mouth returns and Stefan lets out a series of loud moans. He thinks Klaus’s mouth needs an opus written to it. The pace increases. He keeps trying to push upwards even though the fingers only push back more punitively. He wants to fist the sheets but doesn’t.
“Klaus,” Stefan shouts in warning, Klaus only flicks his eyes up to show that he’s heard. Mouth still wrapped around him when he comes.
***
As much as Damon is clearly longing for exclusive time with him as much as Klaus, it’s different for him; Stefan has already let Damon play out most of his sexual fantasies with him. So what he wants is a bit different. Though he doesn’t doubt Klaus will want to copy him once he stays in the house long enough during Damon’s turn to notice.
Stefan sits in a chair, blindfolded, he can guess that he’s at the dining table, knows he’s right when there’s a spoon against his lips.
“Eat,” Damon commands and Stefan does so, is surprised when it isn’t something horrible like previous days but quite the opposite; it’s delicious. Damon guides his hand to where the bowl is and Stefan begins feeding himself the rest.
“Stop,” Damon says after several more bites and Stefan rolls his eyes beneath the blindfold, “come with me.”
As Damon guides him up the stairs he wonders idly whether Damon will make him clean the house, probably not, his brother would only feel the need to do it again himself.
“You’re going to have a shower now,” Damon says and he hears the spray of water turn on. He waits as Damon adjusts the temperature and then pushes Stefan into the cubicle.
“Hold out your hand.”
Stefan feels a pool of shower gel land in his palm.
“Spread the shower gel over your torso.”
Stefan does so giving Damon the show Stefan knows he wants and obeying as the litany continues.
“Good,” Damon says after he finishes moving his hands over almost all of his body, “now jerk yourself off.”
Stefan almost chuckles at Damon finally wanting to do something sexual after days of not, but wraps his hand around his cock instead.
“Stop,” Damon says far too soon and Stefan groans but removes his hand.
He stands motionless and hears Damon remove his own clothes and join him. Damon’s cock begins rubbing against his own and Stefan grabs onto him to keep his knees from buckling. Damon comes first and for a few moments he’s afraid Damon intends on leaving him wanting but then Damon’s hand is right there and it isn’t long before Stefan follows.
***
Stefan doesn’t wear either collar for the next three days; he has a big project due for English and he tells his lovers this. He still notices them getting restless. And on the day after he hands in the assignment nothing happens due to Elena bringing Elijah over because she feels Elijah and Klaus need to ‘talk’.
“So whipped,” Klaus sniggers.
“Yes brother, it does seem we’re both quite besotted,” Elijah replies with amusement.
Stefan leaves to give them their privacy. Knows tomorrow is going to be interesting.
***
Stefan has already stripped and prepared himself according to Klaus’s instructions and is now lying laid out for him. Klaus attaches leather restraints to his wrists pretending they’re necessary (as though Klaus couldn’t just pin Stefan down and hold him there).
There’s something being pushed into his hole, it’s blocked from his view so he can’t see what it is. Stefan has noticed that Klaus seems to have a special love for putting things inside him. He knows why without having to ask. It’s pushed deeper.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stefan spits while shifting, body desperately trying to pull away but his arms are restrained and he’s not going anywhere. It’s definitely larger than what Stefan is used to.
“Want me to stop?” Klaus asks smirking.
“Course not,” Stefan says, sputtering out a string of gasps, “want this, make me hurt.”
Klaus drives the rest of it in slowly and then gives Stefan some time to adjust.
“Okay now?” he asks, unfastening the restraints.
“Yes,” Stefan replies simply, it still hurts but that’s not really relevant.
“Stand up and walk over there,” Klaus says, pointing.
He does so awkwardly and sluggishly, the anal insert jostling inside him at every sign of motion.
“Kneel.”
Stefan carefully lowers himself to his knees, wincing at the pressure.
And after all that Klaus just walks away.
Stefan is left naked and kneeling by the fire, he’s probably been placed here so he doesn’t catch hypothermia. The thing in his ass is slightly too long for Stefan to kneel comfortably but that’s sort of the point. He’s sublimating his urges.
He doesn’t know how long he’s left there for but there are pins and needles all through his legs.
***
One day he is lying on a bed blind-folded.
Suddenly there are blood-stained fingers in his mouth. He uses his safe word.
“I almost thought you’d forgotten it,” someone jokes, surprised.
He doesn’t need his safe word for the rougher games; that’s what he’s here for.
***
Stefan gasps as Damon’s hands encircle his throat, engulfing his collar and forcing the dark blue leather to cut into his skin. He thrills in the sharp paper-cut delight marking his surrender of control. The grip strengthens to vice-like and Stefan’s anticipation builds even though he knows the strangle-hold is more of a firm clutch on a delicate china jug, such is the strength of the hands’ owner. There’s pressure on his windpipe and he struggles for breath. Stefan is filled with excitement and pain, and he is glad for both, he keeps his eyes on Damon and begins to grow hard. His lungs burn. Pleasure and pain mix intoxicatingly.
The hands move away.
“Don’t stop,” Stefan rasps, but then Damon is pushing into him and Stefan forgets the point he was trying to make to himself.
***
Stefan stares at the calendar; he has been human for six months, he’s six months older.
He stands in front of the mirror, poking his bruises and bites again and again, giving his image wincing grins. He is theirs, and they paint his guilt out for him in black and blue and red. The urges don’t go away but over time--with Damon and Klaus’s help--he gets used to them again. This is his redemption. He won’t kill again; they will stop him, even if it’s somewhat grudgingly.
Recipient: bitchygrrl
Author: swirlsofblue
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Klaus/Stefan, Damon/Stefan, brief appearances from Caroline and Elena.
Word Count: 5,900
Warnings: D/s, blood play, rough sex, incest, bad language.
Summary: Klaus and Damon help Stefan deal with his issues; includes angst, humour, d/s and masochistic tendencies. Written for the prompt: And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of your heart you’ll never see again.
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy.
Everyone else refuses the cure. That leaves Stefan. He’s waiting for someone else to choose his answer for him.
Really, he has no choice; he has to be the person he tries to be.
“I’m taking the cure,” Stefan states, pouring coffee, thinking about how he won’t be able to feel the dark notes of bitterness so clearly anymore; he will have to find something else to remind him of them.
“No you’re not,” Damon nonchalantly replies.
“I’m sorry,” Stefan says softly, sighing at the anger dawning on Damon’s face, he doesn’t need to look further to know what’s underneath the anger.
He and Damon made no oath for always and forever, their promise was silent and much more iron clad. This is a betrayal, Stefan understands that.
***
Stefan wants to be alone, doesn’t want people to see him transition, but doesn’t have the heart to tell any of them. They’re all here; it’s a big day. He drinks the elixir and waits. It feels like being slowly wrapped in insulation; senses dulling and weakness settling into his bones. And yet he feels good, feels alive.
Elena gives him a hug and leaves first; she knows she isn’t one of the people he needs here anymore. Caroline has groceries and is re-organising the house. Stefan doesn’t mention that he and Damon are already gourmet chefs and he’s not exactly going to struggle with the food situation. It’s comforting that she’s there, helping. Damon is cleaning Stefan’s room because ‘Stefan could catch his death in that mess’. He knows his brother has secretly been waiting for an excuse to clean it for decades so with reluctance and wry amusement he lets that go too.
He sits eating dinner and smiles at the fullness that has seemed just beyond his grasp for over a century.
***
Klaus turns up at the boarding house later in the evening, probably looking for Elena now that they have the cure.
“You’re human,” he says, words filled with amusement but also a hint of fear.
“Yes,” Stefan answers, there’s nothing more to say, and he’s tired of everyone’s’ questions. The hybrid says nothing else only sits back with his feet up.
Klaus stays overnight, Stefan doesn’t know why or what he’s up to.
***
Stefan goes to class, does his homework, hangs out with friends; he’s going to try as hard as possible to have a normal human life. This will be his last year of high school. He wanders the hallways, at some point Elena’s at his side, at some point Caroline, at some point Bonnie. They’re worried about him. He just wants to be alone. He isn’t sleeping enough--can’t quite force himself into human sleep patterns--and is exhausted. He’s thinking too much, can’t shut down, feels trapped under the weight of himself.
***
Damon enters his room with no top on but there’s nothing new there, what he does next however...
His brother pulls him in crashing their mouths together.
“What are you doing?” Stefan says, shoving Damon away.
“I figured if you’re going to pretend you were never a vampire and just pick up where you left off, that we should, you know, pick up where we left off,” Damon says affecting a suggestive leer.
“I’m not picking up where I left off, I’m starting fresh; starting a different life,” Stefan argues.
But he still goes along with it when Damon pushes him onto the bed.
Damon moves slowly pressing worshipful kisses down his chest. Stefan thinks this is one of those things Damon has wanted to do for a long time but never allowed himself to, so Stefan doesn’t tell his brother that he isn’t made of glass.
Stefan’s hand trails along his back and when it reaches his face Damon snaps himself out of it, movements quickening and gaining purpose.
***
There’s an urge, he buries it deep; shrugs it off as a residual, compartmentalises it away into his vampire life that never existed.
Klaus follows him down the hallway, leans against the locker beside his own, like this is what he does every day.
“Why’re you following me?” Stefan demands.
“You’re mine, I can’t let people take liberties with what’s mine,” Klaus says, grinning at him.
“I’m not yours and I don’t need your protection,” Stefan shouts angrily.
“This ire isn’t just for me. What’s wrong, love?”
“Leave me alone,” Stefan hisses.
***
Klaus has made himself at home in the spare bedroom nearest to Stefan’s. Damon and Klaus are hovering around him like shadows. Stefan feels he should write Elena a long letter of apology about the constant attempts to protect her as though at any moment she could fall down on the sidewalk and die.
He convinces Caroline to help him bust out and they spend the day at a carnival three towns over. They ride the dodgems and big wheel and laugh while eating cotton candy and it’s fun but in the quiet moments it also just reminds him of how different he is to the other people here.
“Everyone is different, everyone has stress in their life and they’re trying to get away from it for a little while, to let go and have fun,” Caroline says.
And he thinks if Caroline can draw a parallel to ‘stressed-out’ humans while being a vampire, Stefan really has no reason to complain anymore.
“Why didn’t you want to turn human again?” he asks.
“It’s just not me anymore and I’m not willing to change who I am, I’m not willing to step backwards,” she answers seriously (it’s the first time she hasn’t responded with a joke).
Stefan knows that’s probably his problem; he always tries to change himself and it never really works.
***
He won’t admit it but it’s easier with Klaus. When the hybrid is the one walking beside him he doesn’t have to worry about lies, there’s a lack of expectation. It doesn’t matter what Klaus thinks of him which makes it simpler to just be. Of course that just makes the need to fight back all the stronger.
“Still not sleeping?” Klaus asks. They’re walking towards the exit; it’s the end of the day.
“Look, I get it, I’m human now and you’re scared some big bad monster is going to get me, it’s adorable. But I can handle myself so you don’t have to walk me home and carry my books,” Stefan jokes.
“What’s got you thinking so much that you’re so exhausted? The whole human thing not what it cracked up to be?” Klaus asks, ignoring Stefan’s statement.
Stefan holds in a wince at how close the words hit and at the sudden thought that Klaus is probably the only one he could tell the truth to.
***
Stefan walks down the stairs to Damon cooking breakfast and Klaus reading a newspaper. This is apparently his life now. He throws his books into his bag and heads out to his car because he doesn’t want to be late for the test first period.
He looks down at the question sheet the chemistry teacher has put in front of him, for once it actually matters for reasons other than Stefan wanting it to matter. These will be the grades he applies to college with, no compelling this time; he’s going to do everything for real. It’s not too hard, he knows most of the answers, still chastises himself for not knowing the other ones; he’s a hundred and sixty three years old for heaven’s sake. He looks around at the others, his friends, all with their heads down and thinks about how for them it’s the beginning, this will probably be the first time of many times they’ll go to High school; even if you don’t want to it really cuts down on the years you can spend in a place if you say you’re older than you are when you turn up.
***
They’re standing in one of the school’s many hidden alcoves.
He falls down into a kiss with Klaus, reveals his secret in the breath between their tongues.
“I still want to kill people.”
It’s a relief. But maybe it doesn’t count; telling someone who won’t care. Maybe that’s the point. The urge is not real until he says it out loud. But he’s in a forest with no one to hear it; Klaus will only love him more for it.
“Okay,” Klaus says evenly, Stefan can tell that’s not what he wants to say but that he also doesn’t want this moment to stop.
The Original’s hands are on Stefan’s head, pushing their mouths together again urgently. His lips are smoother than Stefan expects probably because Stefan’s human now and can’t feel the ridges and cracks with the same detail as before. This means more to Klaus than it does to him but that hardly matters. It’s a good distraction that’s all.
They pull away slowly and there’s a shine in Klaus’s eyes that tells tales of the twenties and friendship and gold-tinted history. Klaus doesn’t tell him to stay and Stefan doesn’t say he has to leave, they just stand there for a moment, lips glistening with saliva, and then Stefan goes home to his brother.
***
Stefan knows that tonight his brother will be able to smell the scent of another on him but Damon says nothing so Stefan chooses not to mention it either.
Damon’s body is familiar but their fucking has never been comfortable and it still isn’t now even though they’ve settled into some semblance of routine, pattern, of domesticity. It’s a frenetic mess of limbs and taking what they want and giving nothing back and silently knowing that taking it all is what they’re giving anyway.
He falls asleep in his brother’s arms and for once sleeps soundly.
***
There are blank diary pages longing for names. He doesn’t have the luxury of suppression anymore; the vampire is gone, but the monster was here all along. He sees them like phantoms on a page (not the ones he has already killed, before he would think of them guilt-ridden) names of people he knows, who he would like to cut and saw and fashion their limbs into carefully compartmentalised pieces.
Today his mind is on the hazel eyed blonde in math, whose voice was always too shrill for Stefan’s liking. He doesn’t know how he notices it more now that he can barely hear.
There’s blood in his mind’s eye, forming a kiddie pool around his ankles.
***
He enters the parking lot and math girl is fiddling with her squirrel key-ring. Klaus is of course sitting atop someone’s beat-up ford. The rest of the place is deserted; Stefan looks back and forth between them, contemplating. And decides to choose the lesser of two evils. He strides up to Klaus maintaining a carefully stoic expression and shoves him down onto the asphalt and with only the car to hide them pulls the hybrid’s shirt over his head.
Klaus flips them over letting out a guttural growl before tearing away Stefan’s shirt and then ripping open his trousers. As his bare butt hits the ground he’s momentarily preoccupied by how much more annoying this is while human; the cold seeping through his body and the stone more uncomfortable even though he feels its minutia less. But then Klaus is already beginning to push a finger into Stefan’s hole and he’s shocked by how fast everything is happening.
“Wait,” Stefan says because he’s suddenly afraid he has no control over what’s about to happen.
Klaus gives him an impatient glare but he does stop.
“Unfriendly floor,” Stefan says to cover, picking up his jacket and placing it beneath him.
Klaus smirks and continues stretching him out before carefully pushing inside him and quickly setting a rhythm.
“Oh,” Stefan gasps, cutting himself off before he cries out something stupid like ‘God’, it’s unbelievable, probably a by-product of a thousand years of experience.
***
If Stefan becomes more tolerant of Klaus’s presence in the boarding house over the next few weeks it’s only because he’s fucking him. There’s no relationship.
He goes to Damon when he wants the sex to mean something and goes to Klaus when he wants it to not. But sometimes he finds meaning where there should be none and sometimes he searches for meaning that no longer exists.
It doesn’t count as cheating; they both know what the other is up to, and him and Damon have never been exclusive in their almost one hundred and fifty year history.
***
“May I have a drink,” Klaus asks, fingering a vein in Stefan’s neck.
Klaus is being surprisingly polite about the whole drinking from him thing, it’s taken him two weeks longer than Damon to get around to it.
(I can’t be bothered to run down to the hospital, Damon says, giving Stefan a smirk and his patent eye move, be a good brother and give me a taste.
Stefan rolls his eyes and shoves his wrist in Damon’s face.
Damon drinks, urgently but only a little, then steps away like nothing’s wrong. Like that taste was enough, like he wouldn’t fall apart if he couldn’t have another.)
“Go ahead,” Stefan replies without hesitation.
Klaus bites down and blood flows hot and gushing into his mouth and is somehow better than anything he has ever tasted, like sitting on a world of ice and finding a glowing bright fire to warm him, loves the tension of his teeth pressing against tense muscle, blood flowing in rivulets. And Klaus knows; knows it isn’t real; knows Stefan is using him, but Stefan is also looking at him and there’s no hatred there for once and he can’t give this up.
Hands are grappling at him, Stefan’s hands for once pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and this, this is everything.
Stefan closes his eyes as he rides the high of Klaus drinking from him, all he can think of is that Klaus isn’t near enough, he needs him plastered against him, on him, inside him.
“Fuck me,” he demands, voice a ragged mess.
Klaus doesn’t need to be told twice, belts are pulled away so fast they could cut, and Klaus knows how Stefan wants it. They’re still standing, Klaus with a firm grip on his hips as he enters him in only three unforgiving motions. Stefan moans jutting his hips forward against Klaus’s brutal thrusts.
“Harder,” Stefan orders.
“Any harder and I’ll tear you apart, love,” Klaus says, pausing in his rough pace and placing a gentle kiss against his neck. Stefan grips his hair, pulling his head off his neck; sometimes Klaus likes to be gentle but Stefan’s not in the mood today. Today he needs Klaus to rip him apart and spill all the wrongness out.
Klaus simply carries on until coming a few seconds after Stefan.
“You know, sometimes I wonder why you’re here, love,” Klaus says nonchalantly--as if it isn’t a question--as they lie spent on the floor.
The person he is when he’s with Klaus doesn’t have to worry so much about the darkness of who he is. It’s easier.
“It’s just sex.”
He says and if they both believe it the words are as good as true.
***
Stefan complains about the new history teacher.
Like a cat leaving a half-dead sparrow at their master’s feet, Klaus brings her home, compelled to do Stefan’s bidding.
“Take her home,” Stefan says quietly, face blank.
“What did you think would happen?” Damon laughs at Klaus.
“That,” Klaus replies with a grin that somehow manages to be petulant, “I was getting bored with all of Stefan’s whining.”
“Then why’re you still here Klaus?” Stefan asks with frustration.
Klaus only rolls his eyes but Stefan is already overthinking his own words. The truth is he wants Klaus to still be here and it’s not just about sex anymore. But he can’t do this, can’t have this life after the cure, he can’t ruin his second chance and throw away the person he should be, he can’t fall back into the person he was and it’s too easy to fall when he’s with Klaus. He can’t be with Klaus and not be that wrong person.
***
“I love you.”
Stefan turns away, moving to leave the room.
Klaus grabs his arm and Stefan reflexively grabs Klaus’s arm in return; hands against forearms, wrists against wrists. Stefan has nothing to say so he just stands there looking into Klaus’s tear shimmering eyes. A week ago he might’ve said that this is not a relationship and that Klaus either accepts this for what it is or leaves but Stefan doesn’t know what it is anymore. He can’t let it be a relationship.
The hybrid slides his hand past Stefan’s, letting him go. It seems like they keep slipping through each other’s fingers every day.
***
Klaus is sitting alone at a dinner table designed for ten people and Stefan has to hold in a sigh at the image even though he’s seen it many times before; context is a bitch. Stefan places his plate on the table and shuffles a chair along until he’s right next to Klaus.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Stefan says.
“Don’t bother Stefan, I really don’t care.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“What do you want from me Stefan,” Klaus says angrily.
Stefan says silent for moment, carefully choosing words he has already chosen.
“I want you, all of you, not just for sex, for everything, every day,” Stefan tells him, hoping he can finish the conversation without using the word relationship.
“You want a relationship?” Klaus asks, rolling his eyes over the last word like he knew Stefan was avoiding it; he probably did. And Stefan knows he’s running out of spaces for the lies he tells himself so he answers with the truth.
“Yes.”
***
“You realise you two are practically the same person,” Stefan says.
For some reason they want him to choose between them. He doesn’t know how he got here but it was probably all his fault.
This is wrong; Stefan’s supposed to be the edge of the triangle not the centre. A part of him wants to repeat Elena’s words just to see Damon’s reaction. (I can’t lose either one of you.)
He thinks about who he should choose; it seems the right thing to do would be to choose Damon.
But Damon knows him too well; “stop pretending you’re not a selfish ass and do what you want.”
“Both,” is, in the end his answer; it’s the only answer he has within him.
***
Surprisingly Damon and Klaus accept this answer and unsurprisingly the ensuing one-upmanship gets messy. It starts off kind of amusing with odd gifts and surprise trips; Stefan appreciates things like signed first editions, weekends in Vegas and a painting of Stefan with his mother (he doesn’t ask where Klaus got that photo from). But at one point Klaus gives him a castle and then Damon buys him an island. And it just gets increasingly worse from there.
***
Klaus bites over one of the bite marks Damon left on his chest, devouring it, transmuting it into non-existence; into a messy splotch of blood and flesh, no fang holes to be seen.
Stefan would let either of them drink him dry. Maybe then the monster would finally be put to sleep (though he doesn’t have much hope anymore).
***
Klaus is still smarting at not being picked and it’s all just added salt.
The battle for one-upmanship is tiresome; and Damon has the edge in the knowledge of Stefan department.
Klaus has made a delicious looking, artistically crafted dessert, coloured with an array of fruit including pieces of mango, papaya, guava, pineapple etc.
Damon is in front of him in an instant, and he’s never appreciated just how fast vampires could move until he couldn’t do it anymore. His brother’s hand is around the bowl; dumping it in the garbage.
Stefan’s mouth opens, ready to chastise, and Klaus looks ready to rip Damon’s head off, when Damon simply says.
“He’s allergic.”
Stefan opens his mouth to protest angrily when it occurs to him that there are at least two ingredients present that he doesn’t remember having as a human (exotic fruit wasn’t exactly readily available in the 1850’s), but he would still know wouldn’t he?
“You were three and sick for days,” Damon replies to his confused expression.
A part of Stefan wants to eat the dessert anyway just to spite him.
***
Damon grabs him as soon as he walks through the door, battering him with kisses and hands roaming everywhere; clearly trying to commandeer his attention. In the next second he’s gone. Stefan looks around stunned and then sees Damon across the room pulling a stake out of himself and Klaus grinning.
“Klaus! No staking people!” Stefan yells, sighing with frustration as he runs his hands through his hair.
***
It’s a mess, Damon and Klaus cloying for his attention, fighting over who gets more time with him, nothing’s working. All Stefan can think about is how much of a monster he is for doing this to them and his focus is shifted to the monster again. Damon and Klaus aren’t his distraction anymore; they’re a magnifying glass causing all of Stefan’s urges to rise to the surface again.
He’s not hungry, he’s satisfied, has no need to pour hot red liquid down his throat. But he’s restless, desire to kill still strong in his veins. His fingers twitch.
“I can’t do this,” Stefan whispers, hands pulling through his hair.
“If you want to kill, just kill,” Klaus says.
“We’ll take a road trip and do it somewhere else,” is Damon’s contribution to the conversation.
“No. I’m not killing anyone,” Stefan snaps incredulously.
***
“Make me forget,” he asks Klaus, already knowing Damon will have none of it.
“You know compulsion doesn’t work like that, you can’t compel away a person’s urges without destroying a part of them,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes, “besides, it’s a glorious part of you, and I want all of you.”
“I can’t live like this, with the constant urge to kill, it’s tearing me apart,” Stefan argues.
“You did it for one hundred and forty seven years,” Klaus counters.
“I was a vampire then, it was different.”
“Why is it so much worse now?”
“Because I don’t feel guilty anymore.”
***
This is how it’s going to go. Stefan says when he’s figured out his solution. Because he’s not supposed to be in charge. And none of them are coping well with the current situation. The fighting needs to stop. Stefan needs to be able to deal with his issues. Without the guilt there’s nothing to stop him, without the guilt he can’t convince himself he’s not a monster and that’s bad when he is who he believes himself to be.
“We need some ground rules. First, no more fighting for my attention, you will both get time with me when I decide you do. Second, you both clearly need more control over the situation, so I’m going to wear something that indicates which one of you has time with me and you will be in complete control of everything that happens during that time; I will do whatever you say and you can do whatever you want unless I use my safe word. Third, you will have control over me and therefore it will be your responsibility to stop me from doing anything stupid like killing someone,” Stefan finishes, deliberately not making any mention of dominance or submission; they’re all old enough to know how this should work and he doesn’t want them to start joking around right now.
Games make things simple; no one quite knows who has the power when they’re not playing. No one quite knows how to navigate this thing without cast-iron rules.
“You really should just get over yourself and become a serial killer already,” Damon says.
“What’s the catch?” Klaus asks.
“There’s no catch, follow those rules and you have complete control no addendums.”
“Except the safe word,” Damon specifies, shooting Klaus a look which suggests he would eviscerate him if he hurt his brother, “I suppose those are reasonable terms.”
“They are agreeable,” Klaus adds.
He smiles; he knew both of them would jump at the chance for control.
Klaus buys him a sleek black collar and Damon has a gleam in his eye that says he’s going to find a better one until Stefan gives him a glare that clearly says he will not find fighting over collars impressive or sexy. So Damon, choosing to behave for once, just buys the same collar in midnight blue. Stefan chooses which collar to wear every day.
***
He spends a lot of time overthinking which collar to put on, if he’s going to put Damon and Klaus through it he should at least put himself through the ringer as well. He thinks about who has been more insecure lately, more broken lately, who needs him more. What he wants isn’t as important, after all he loves them both. This is what he tells himself.
It starts with a few broken glasses and bones and destroyed overly clean furniture but settles down after a few days when the three of them have gotten into a rhythm.
He looks over each collar in turn, fingering the black one, smelling the blue; as though they hold all the answers. Picks up the black collar and fastens it snugly around his neck, pressing with a comforting discomfort against his Adam’s apple.
***
Klaus lets out a thrilled smirk as he sees which collar he has on but quickly his mouth dips into a firm line as he comes to stand in front of Stefan. He takes Stefan upstairs to his room and places him on the bed.
“Whose are you Stefan?”
“Yours,” Stefan answers passionately.
“You’ve been bad haven’t you Stefan?”
“I keep having these bad yearnings, I want to do bad things,” Stefan admits guiltily.
He tells his confession and will take his punishment. He enjoys it more than he should (the self-aware part of him questions punishment that you have to ask for, especially when Klaus calls him his little masochist).
“You need to be punished. Kneel.”
Klaus gives the order and hums inside at Stefan’s submission; at the idea that Stefan is doing as he’s told not through obligation but because he wants to and Klaus finally has the power he has always wanted, needed. Stefan needs it too, needs to be controlled; held down and fixed. He moves to sit behind where his lover is kneeling on the bed and winds his arms around him slowly unbuttoning Stefan’s shirt and removing it.
“Stay still Stefan.”
The fangs slide in too gently, a knife slinking through butter, Stefan wants to move, jar them around, make them scrape against the bone, but he doesn’t. He’s been ordered to stay still.
Klaus withdraws and a moment later bites deeply into his shoulder and Stefan gasps in pain as Klaus follows it with two more quick vicious bites on his back. Stefan’s fingers twitch, longing to stroke his hardening cock. He doesn’t move.
He needs this. Needs it to hurt so he can feel regret. Needs to be controlled so the lack of guilt matters less.
“Lie down.”
He does as he’s told, letting out a hiss at the sting of his bite-laden back pushing into the mattress. Klaus is pulling off his trousers and underwear and Stefan can’t help but lift his hips in an attempt to gain more friction as they move over his crotch.
“Bad Stefan,” Klaus sings, “just for that I’m going to make you wait even longer.”
Hands whisper along his now naked thighs, purposefully moving everywhere except for where they’re desperately needed. Stefan gives a surprised cry as a bite lands on his inner thigh. Klaus moves upwards slower now, leaving a shallow bite on his abdomen and three more on his stomach and chest, it’s torturous having Klaus’s body so close and not being allowed to make contact.
Blood clings between the sheets and his skin creating a cool dampness, sliced through with a hot tongue licking it off. The tongue runs down Stefan’s body, drinking every stray line of blood. Stefan shivers with exhilaration, has to keep reminding himself to stay still regardless.
Finally Klaus reaches his cock and licks down the length swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it into his mouth. Klaus’s mouth is hot and wet and moving gloriously on his erection. Stefan bucks up into it and then makes an embarrassing whinnying sound as Klaus backs away and he loses contact.
“It looks like I’m going to have to hold you down to keep you still,” Klaus informs him with a wicked smirk.
Fingers grip his hips mercilessly; there’ll be deep bruises there tomorrow. And then the mouth returns and Stefan lets out a series of loud moans. He thinks Klaus’s mouth needs an opus written to it. The pace increases. He keeps trying to push upwards even though the fingers only push back more punitively. He wants to fist the sheets but doesn’t.
“Klaus,” Stefan shouts in warning, Klaus only flicks his eyes up to show that he’s heard. Mouth still wrapped around him when he comes.
***
As much as Damon is clearly longing for exclusive time with him as much as Klaus, it’s different for him; Stefan has already let Damon play out most of his sexual fantasies with him. So what he wants is a bit different. Though he doesn’t doubt Klaus will want to copy him once he stays in the house long enough during Damon’s turn to notice.
Stefan sits in a chair, blindfolded, he can guess that he’s at the dining table, knows he’s right when there’s a spoon against his lips.
“Eat,” Damon commands and Stefan does so, is surprised when it isn’t something horrible like previous days but quite the opposite; it’s delicious. Damon guides his hand to where the bowl is and Stefan begins feeding himself the rest.
“Stop,” Damon says after several more bites and Stefan rolls his eyes beneath the blindfold, “come with me.”
As Damon guides him up the stairs he wonders idly whether Damon will make him clean the house, probably not, his brother would only feel the need to do it again himself.
“You’re going to have a shower now,” Damon says and he hears the spray of water turn on. He waits as Damon adjusts the temperature and then pushes Stefan into the cubicle.
“Hold out your hand.”
Stefan feels a pool of shower gel land in his palm.
“Spread the shower gel over your torso.”
Stefan does so giving Damon the show Stefan knows he wants and obeying as the litany continues.
“Good,” Damon says after he finishes moving his hands over almost all of his body, “now jerk yourself off.”
Stefan almost chuckles at Damon finally wanting to do something sexual after days of not, but wraps his hand around his cock instead.
“Stop,” Damon says far too soon and Stefan groans but removes his hand.
He stands motionless and hears Damon remove his own clothes and join him. Damon’s cock begins rubbing against his own and Stefan grabs onto him to keep his knees from buckling. Damon comes first and for a few moments he’s afraid Damon intends on leaving him wanting but then Damon’s hand is right there and it isn’t long before Stefan follows.
***
Stefan doesn’t wear either collar for the next three days; he has a big project due for English and he tells his lovers this. He still notices them getting restless. And on the day after he hands in the assignment nothing happens due to Elena bringing Elijah over because she feels Elijah and Klaus need to ‘talk’.
“So whipped,” Klaus sniggers.
“Yes brother, it does seem we’re both quite besotted,” Elijah replies with amusement.
Stefan leaves to give them their privacy. Knows tomorrow is going to be interesting.
***
Stefan has already stripped and prepared himself according to Klaus’s instructions and is now lying laid out for him. Klaus attaches leather restraints to his wrists pretending they’re necessary (as though Klaus couldn’t just pin Stefan down and hold him there).
There’s something being pushed into his hole, it’s blocked from his view so he can’t see what it is. Stefan has noticed that Klaus seems to have a special love for putting things inside him. He knows why without having to ask. It’s pushed deeper.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stefan spits while shifting, body desperately trying to pull away but his arms are restrained and he’s not going anywhere. It’s definitely larger than what Stefan is used to.
“Want me to stop?” Klaus asks smirking.
“Course not,” Stefan says, sputtering out a string of gasps, “want this, make me hurt.”
Klaus drives the rest of it in slowly and then gives Stefan some time to adjust.
“Okay now?” he asks, unfastening the restraints.
“Yes,” Stefan replies simply, it still hurts but that’s not really relevant.
“Stand up and walk over there,” Klaus says, pointing.
He does so awkwardly and sluggishly, the anal insert jostling inside him at every sign of motion.
“Kneel.”
Stefan carefully lowers himself to his knees, wincing at the pressure.
And after all that Klaus just walks away.
Stefan is left naked and kneeling by the fire, he’s probably been placed here so he doesn’t catch hypothermia. The thing in his ass is slightly too long for Stefan to kneel comfortably but that’s sort of the point. He’s sublimating his urges.
He doesn’t know how long he’s left there for but there are pins and needles all through his legs.
***
One day he is lying on a bed blind-folded.
Suddenly there are blood-stained fingers in his mouth. He uses his safe word.
“I almost thought you’d forgotten it,” someone jokes, surprised.
He doesn’t need his safe word for the rougher games; that’s what he’s here for.
***
Stefan gasps as Damon’s hands encircle his throat, engulfing his collar and forcing the dark blue leather to cut into his skin. He thrills in the sharp paper-cut delight marking his surrender of control. The grip strengthens to vice-like and Stefan’s anticipation builds even though he knows the strangle-hold is more of a firm clutch on a delicate china jug, such is the strength of the hands’ owner. There’s pressure on his windpipe and he struggles for breath. Stefan is filled with excitement and pain, and he is glad for both, he keeps his eyes on Damon and begins to grow hard. His lungs burn. Pleasure and pain mix intoxicatingly.
The hands move away.
“Don’t stop,” Stefan rasps, but then Damon is pushing into him and Stefan forgets the point he was trying to make to himself.
***
Stefan stares at the calendar; he has been human for six months, he’s six months older.
He stands in front of the mirror, poking his bruises and bites again and again, giving his image wincing grins. He is theirs, and they paint his guilt out for him in black and blue and red. The urges don’t go away but over time--with Damon and Klaus’s help--he gets used to them again. This is his redemption. He won’t kill again; they will stop him, even if it’s somewhat grudgingly.