The More Enjoyable Option

This is set at the end of episode 1x20 "Blood Brothers" when Isobel surprises Alaric at the Grill. And although I truly hadn't intended for this to go that way (since I'm a Delena shipper at heart), somewhere between starting this weeks ago and today it became more than just a bromance fic. So now this contains slash. I really don't know how it happened, it just did. Damon's to blame for it, you know, with the flirty little comments and the eye thing that he does… he just wouldn't leave it at that, no matter how hard I begged him to stick to it. He wanted more. So did Alaric, apparently. *Shrug*. I simply followed the boy's wishes. Hope you enjoy it.

Oh, and of course I don't own any of the characters. If I would, we'd get to see this on the show.


"Hello Rick!"

The sultry female voice was unmistakable although he hadn't heard it in two years. And up until a few weeks ago he'd never thought he'd hear it again. He'd thought her dead, killed by a vampire. But she wasn't, she was standing right next to him at the bar, seemingly not at all surprised that he wasn't surprised to see her either.

A few weeks ago Alaric would've probably fallen from the barstool in shock if his supposed-dead wife had made a sudden appearance like she was doing now. Or he would have written it off as a hallucination from too many drinks.

He kind of wished he were hallucinating now.

God only knew how much Whiskey's he'd knocked back already tonight. Far too many, that much was clear even to his intoxicated brain.

And yet, she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Alaric moved his head to the side and threw her a glance from bleary eyes.

"Isobel," he nodded in resignation and then turned back to his drink. She looked different, he'd noticed immediately. Not older, no. Of course not, for how could she when technically she hadn't aged? And never would?

She was a vampire, and somehow she looked like one. With that certain kind of strength hidden behind a sexy outfit and a self-assured smile that Alaric had come to know most vampires possessed.

Especially one in particular.

The one who'd turned his wife. The one who'd slept with his wife, repeatedly, Alaric presumed. The one who'd tried to kill him not too long ago (and who would have been successful if it hadn't been for his ring).

The one he'd lately spent far more time with than it could ever be healthy, given the circumstances. The one Alaric had even spent this entire day with and, he had to admit, who'd turned out to be not a complete bastard. Because, lets face it, despite the fact that they hated each other they really made a pretty bad ass team. Just like he'd once said.

Damon.

Who had appeared at the entrance of the Grill just now, Alaric noticed out of the corner of his eyes when he turned his head to look at the woman, vampire, by his side once again.

"You're not surprised to see me," Isobel stated and pulled Alaric's attention back to her.

He kept silent but lifted the glass to his lips once more.

"I figured you'd find out the truth sooner or later," Isobel continued and took a seat next to him. "You were always smarter and more determined than good for you if you'd really set your mind on something. Like a dog with its bone."

Alaric raised an eyebrow at her. "You've been my bone for the last two years, Is. I moved heaven and hell to find out the truth. And tonight, just when I'd finally decided to let it go and move on, you show up. What a coincidence, don't you think?"

"You'd decided to…" Isobel looked surprised hearing that.

"To leave it all behind, yes. Vampires, Damon, you, everything. All the answers… I didn't want them anymore. Damon made me realize…"

"Damon?" Isobel repeated. "Damon made you realize something? What, did you two become friends now? A bit of male-bonding over your different memories of me?"

"Hardly," Alaric shot her a cold look. "It's more like expressing our mutual hatred by repeatedly trying to kill each other…"

"While forming a bad ass team in kicking some vampire ass, right, Rick?" Damon's voice suddenly chimed in from behind. Both Alaric and Isobel turned around and stared at the smirking vampire's face.

Damon's eyes bore into Isobel. "Hello Isobel!"

"Damon," she replied before her eyes traveled back to Rick once again. He was glaring at Damon and didn't notice her watching him. Like, didn't notice her at all.

"I see," Isobel smirked knowingly. "What else have you two been up to lately?"

Damon stepped into the small space between the two barstools and cocked an eyebrow at her. "What, you mean together? Oh, lets see… apart from staking vamps there's been several attempts to kill each other, with only one of us being successful by the way, or I would have been if he didn't have your ring, as well as competing in the town's very own bachelor raffle, which I won as well…"

Alaric couldn't stop the snort from coming out and Damon sent him a quick grin before he continued: "And then there's been several empty threats followed by the occasional shared drink, oh, and of course our mutual goal to kill or at least outsmart that inconveniently equally unkillable John Gilbert. You see," Damon smirked, "the usual."

"You forgot to mention our plot to stop your crazy, blood-addicted brother from killing innocent girls," Alaric smirked back and gulped down the rest of his drink.

"Oh, right! How thoughtless of me," Damon signaled the barkeeper and seconds later he had his own Whiskey to drown.

"Innocent girls like Elena?"

Both men's heads snapped to Isobel but Damon was quicker in his growled reply: "What do you want from her?"

Isobel shrugged innocently. "She's my daughter. I'd like to get to know her…"

"You stay away from her! She doesn't wanna know you," Damon fired back immediately. Both Isobel and Alaric caught the badly repressed emotion behind that statement. Alaric wasn't surprised; he'd already known that somehow, without noticing or even wanting it herself, Elena had managed to worm her way into this cold-blooded killer's heart. Or what passed for his heart anyway. Elena had managed to put a crack into the stonewall Damon had erected to suppress his humanity.

But over the past few weeks Alaric had noticed traces of this humanity emerge in Damon whenever Elena was involved. And as much as he wished otherwise, he'd seen that there was more to Damon than the vicious killer he pretended to be. He'd seen Damon change. Bit by bit, very gradually, Elena had managed what Alaric assumed no one before her, not even Stefan, had ever accomplished.

She'd gained Damon's trust. She'd shown him that it was possible to trust someone beside himself. Even necessary too, sometimes.

Because of Elena Damon had slowly begun to rely on others for help. She'd made him a team player instead of… what had it been she'd called him? The lone ranger?

So in a way, Alaric gathered, Elena was responsible for what he and Damon had going on nowadays. She'd laid the foundation for their… well, as he'd said to Isobel earlier, he wouldn't go so far as to call it a friendship, but… he couldn't deny any longer that, if the situation acquired it, they could count on each other to have their backs.

Like now.

Alaric turned his attention back to the two people by his side. Damon and Isobel were currently involved in a silent staring contest that he knew Damon would win eventually. And not because he was the older and stronger vampire or because he had some kind of hold over Isobel because he'd turned her…

No, Alaric knew that Damon would get the upper hand because nobody could endure a stare from those cerulean eyes for long before backing down. Or succumbing to their owner's will, no compulsion needed. Alaric knew that from experience. He'd had a hard time or two himself, resisting Damon's stare. And he'd never thought himself to be easily swayed from what he wanted. But with Damon…

Alaric had come very close to succumbing.

And he'd come across a very disturbing emotion in the process. He'd caught himself thinking things… things he'd never before thought about. No man had ever stirred those kinds of thoughts within him before.

Alaric shook his head and quickly drowned another drink. He was doing it again! His treacherous mind had led him astray to a place he didn't wanna be in. Ever! And certainly not with Damon!

But if just the mere thought of Damon's eyes on him was enough to stir up those unwanted thoughts in him… how should Isobel be able to stand her own?

She wouldn't. Couldn't. No woman would ever be able to resist those eyes, and certainly not one who'd already given herself over once.

So Alaric wasn't too surprised when Isobel, with a small pout of lips and a subtle shift of her shoulders, backed off eventually and lowered her eyes to the counter. When she looked up again her eyes were cold and hard.

"Elena has been the one trying to find me, you know? But," her gaze shifted to Alaric briefly before once again settling on Damon. "You're right, she's not the only reason I came here."

"Well," Damon answered with a smirk, "if you were looking for some kind of happy reunion with your husband then I'm afraid you're just a bit too late, isn't she, Rick?" Without taking his eyes off Isobel he casually threw an arm around Alaric's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "Just a few hours ago we both decided that the healthy thing to do was to forget about the bitches that screwed us over and finally move on."

Alaric's eyebrow climbed into his hairline hearing that. Surely Damon didn't really mean that, did he? Earlier today, seated companionably in the apartment they'd just staked that vampire flunky in, it hadn't sounded like Damon was ready to leave Katherine behind like that.

Alaric couldn't stop his mouth from spilling his first thought: "What happened to the 200 years, give or take, that you'd wanted to give your pining for Katherine?"

The initial glare was followed by a casual shrug of shoulders. "Call it a change of heart. Don't you think we're both better off without women for a while, huh? You know, Rick, moving on."

A wink, a sudden increasing pressure on his shoulder where Damon's arm still rested comfortably… was Damon flirting with him? Or merely messing around? Alaric felt his throat go dry and he quickly drowned another Whiskey.

"Sure," he muttered then, "as long as your moving on doesn't involve drained corpses being found in the woods every now and then."

"I'm not that sloppy," Damon's eyes shone with sudden mirth and, leaning closer to Alaric's right ear he whispered: "And besides, I wouldn't have to harm upstanding citizens if I had someone, a friend or something, who'd be willing to participate in a little blood-giving every now and then."

Before Alaric had time to reply anything – not that he had any idea what he would want to say to Damon's not-so-subtle suggestion – Isobel suddenly stood up from the barstool in one swift movement. With a cold smile and a shake of her dark hair she eyed both men.

"I can see that neither of you is in the mood to discuss business right now. I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this meeting till after you two have either killed each other or screwed each other senseless. I suggest the latter since it would interfere less with my plans." She turned around but threw a smirk over her shoulder.

"And it would be far more enjoyable for both of you, I assure you. I speak from personal experience after all. See you boys soon," Isobel threw them one last lewd look before she vanished through the door into the night.

Alaric silently stared after her for a long while, not daring to look at the vampire by his side just yet. He didn't wanna see the smirk he knew would be grazing Damon's face after Isobel's comment. Instead he tried to get his racing heart back under control before Damon would pick up on how much Isobel's words had affected him.

"Huh, maybe she has a point after all," Damon's arm slipped from Alaric's shoulder and he moved to take a seat at the now vacant bar stool. His voice held no trace of joking, only puzzlement. Alaric's head shot up and he stared at the vampire in open shock.

"What?"

"I'm just saying," Damon shrugged and took a quick sip of Whiskey. "Might be worth a shot to get you out of my system."

"Out. Of. Your." Alaric had trouble forming a coherent sentence. "Care to explain?"

"Not really," Damon shot him a quick look before he motioned for the bartender to bring another round. He'd raised his hand with the drink halfway to his lips when suddenly Alaric's warm hand on his arm stopped his movement. Damon looked to the side, one eyebrow raised, and when he met Alaric's stare he let out a sigh and set the glass back down.

"Just forget about it, okay?"

"Explain," was all Alaric answered.

Both men stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Alaric had to force himself to hold that piercing glare but he'd rather die than to back down now. He needed to know what Damon had meant. Eventually Damon seemed to get bored to simply stare at the other man. His eyes narrowed and his lips began to twitch until he finally ground out: "This is the picture-perfect example for what I meant."

Alaric simply stared on in silence, expecting more, and Damon continued: "You irritate the hell out of me, Rick. From the day we first met at the High School dance, when you started chatting me up…"

"I didn't…"

A self-assured smirk from Damon shut him up again. "Yes, you did. You were all friendly smiles and curious chatter. You were definitely flirting! And who could blame you, I know that I'm irresistible."

Alaric let out a snort but Damon went on already: "From the first moment I knew that there was something off about you. I just couldn't put my finger on it until I learned that you thought I'd killed your wife."

"Well, you did," Alaric pointed out. "And for the record, I didn't flirt with you. I only wanted to learn more about you so that I could figure out the best way to kill you."

"You see," Damon smirked, "that's what I thought as well. I said to myself 'Relax, Damon. Just another one out of a million scorned husbands whose wife you screwed and who's now looking for revenge. Nothing to worry about, just let him come and try his pathetic attempt at killing you. See how soon it'll get him into his own grave.' You know?" Damon shrugged again. "Same old story. But then, something unexpected happened…"

"Oh," Alaric smirked knowingly, "you mean your failed attempt at killing me?"

"It wasn't failed and you know it, Rick. I killed you good and proper and if it hadn't been for that shiny little ring on your finger…" Damon threw a brief look at Alaric's hand clamped around his glass before his blue eyes met Rick's again. "But that's not the unexpected thing I meant. Although I have to admit that your little imitation of a 'Jack-in-the-box' kind of threw me off-guard when Stefan told me. Quite inconvenient, I have to say."

"Well, you won't hear me saying sorry for being an inconvenience any time soon," Alaric smirked.

Damon waved off. "Wouldn't expect you to."

When the vampire fell silent Alaric cocked his head and finally inquired: "So what's this unexpected thing that happened?"

"Huh? Oh," Damon downed another shot before he went to explain: "Remember what I said to you right after I'd plunged that stake through your lung?"

Alaric shook his head, not believing what he was about to say. "No, I guess the coughing up blood and dying part of it led my concentration away from listening to you."

If anyone were to listen in on them now, Alaric knew that they'd both be declared raving lunatics sooner than Damon could wipe up one of his devilish smirks.

"Too bad," Damon lost the smirk to replace it with the most thoughtful expression Alaric had ever seen on him. "You should have paid attention, Rick, because… you know, that's the moment things started to change."

"Really? How so?" Alaric wanted to know. "I don't suppose you suddenly felt some kind of remorse for killing me?"

Damon shot him a look and said nothing. Alaric couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, Damon! Cut the crap. You didn't!"

"Well, okay," Damon admitted, "it wasn't exactly remorse…"

"You wouldn't know remorse if it were buried balls-deep in your ass and sucking your dick at the same time!" Alaric's jaw shut with an audible click. Where the hell had that thought come from?

For a second Damon seemed to be as stunned at hearing those words out of Rick's mouth as he himself was but then, with a not-so-subtle shift on the barstool, Damon leaned over and whispered in his most sultry voice: "That's quite a nice picture you just painted there, Rick. And not at all impossible to accomplish if you got super-human flexibility as well as the experience. You know I got plenty of both, right? So how about we continue this… discussion somewhere a lot more private?"

Damon's suddenly very dark eyes bore into Rick's with an intensity that made Rick wonder if it was possible he was being compelled despite the vervain he had stashed in his pocket. It certainly felt like it because, although he knew it had to be one of the worst decisions he'd ever made, he suddenly felt himself nod and slide from his seat in silence.

Damon stood up as well. "Are you sure about this?"

He waited with held breath for the other man's reply and when Rick simply shrugged and moved past him towards the exit Damon quickly followed him outside the Grill. The walk towards Damon's nearby-parked car was made in utter silence. The short drive was also filled with only the minimum amount of words needed to determine which place they'd be going to, the boarding house or Rick's apartment. And since neither of them was too keen on having Stefan or, God forbid, Elena listen in on the kind of 'discussion' they were about to have… Rick's apartment would do.

Once Alaric opened the door and, after only the smallest of hesitations, muttered the necessary 'I suppose you need to come inside for this,' Damon once again felt the need to ask:

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I'm one hundred percent sure," Alaric answered and pulled Damon over the threshold, "that this is the most irrational and stupid decision I've made in a very long time. And I'm probably gonna regret it for the rest of my life."

Damon used his super-human speed to close the distance between them and before Alaric knew it he found himself pinned to the closed apartment door by approximately 150 pounds of rock-hard vampire muscles. Damon held Rick's arms in a vise-like grip above his head and his face was mere inches away.

"That didn't exactly answer my question."

Alaric could feel Damon's breath on his lips and he couldn't stop feeling both excited and alarmed by the sudden closeness. "I know, but it's as close to the truth as you'll ever get."

"Oh, no, Rick," Damon leaned even closer, his nose scraping along Rick's jaw before his tongue suddenly darted out to trail along the pulsing vein at Alaric's neck. "You have to do better than that. Do. You. Want. This?"

Each word had been followed by a slight but very effective push of hips against Rick's groin, the pressure increasing ever so slightly until Alaric thought he might explode any second. He was rock-hard in his jeans and the soft tickling of Damon's tongue up to Alaric's ear didn't help the matter any.

"Fuck, yes!" Rick groaned.

"Why?" Damon leaned back to look at him.

Alaric took in Damon's dilated pupils, the slight catch in his voice and he knew that the vampire was just as aroused by their proximity as he was. Hell, he could feel the prove of that digging into his thigh like a wooden stake.

He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at that but it quickly turned into a breathless moan when Damon suddenly released his arms and began trailing his hands down Rick's chest until they'd reached the belt.

A sharp tug on the buckle and a moment later Damon's hand slid inside his jeans to close around his dick.

"Why?" Damon repeated and increased the speed of his hand working up and down Rick's arousal.

"Ugh, well," Rick breathed out and tried to stop his hips from bucking into Damon's hand. "Isobel said we should either, gah, oh fuck… kill each other or screw each other and, God!"

Alaric couldn't go on talking but let out a low groan instead. Damon had somehow managed to pull Rick's jeans and boxers down his hips with one hand and free his own cock as well while his other hand had continued to stroke Alaric close to the edge. Now Damon pressed his own dick up to Rick's and engulfed both of them in a strong grip.

His left hand held on to Rick's shoulder for leverage and Rick mirrored him and dug both his hands into Damon's upper arms. He closed his eyes in bliss and his head fell backwards against the door.

Seeing the exposed neck Damon let out a growl and latched his mouth onto the pulse point, sucking and nibbling with blunt teeth. He could feel his fangs straining to emerge and bury themselves in the soft flesh but Damon resisted and increased the speed of his hand on their cocks instead.

He could sense Rick was close already and he wanted to feel the man come undone under his touch before he would taste his blood. Damon let go of Rick's shoulder and buried his hand in the man's hair instead, pulling his head backwards even further. At the same time he added a special twist to the movement of his wrist, one that he'd practiced and perfected for over a hundred years. It had never failed its purpose and it didn't now. Damon could feel a shudder run through Rick's entire body and he shouted out, jerked once, twice, in his fist and then Damon could feel the hot seed spill over his hand. He continued to pump his hand until he felt the dick soften against his own still hard member and Alaric's moan turned into a whimper from over-stimulation.

Damon let go of both their cocks. He'd been close too but not ready to end this just yet. He'd have another go soon, but first… the best part.

Damon threw a quick look up to Alaric's slack face and noticed the man was right in the middle of his post-orgasmic bliss. Perfect.

Quick, too quick for Rick to react or even notice, Damon let his vampire face emerge and with the smallest graze of fangs pierced the soft skin on Rick's neck. One, two, sucks and a lick of tongue to close the tiny wound and Damon knew that Alaric hadn't any trace of vervain in his system.

That's all he'd wanted to know. He filed the information away for later and, after making sure his fangs had vanished and his eyes had returned to their usual blue color, Damon lifted his head to look at Rick's relaxed face again.

"So, what you were trying to say earlier," Damon smirked and began to open the buttons on Rick's shirt.

"Before I got too distracted to utter a word you mean?"

"Yes," Damon nodded, obviously very much pleased with himself after his performance. "What was that again? About us either killing or screwing each other?"

Alaric couldn't help but smile and secretly agree with Damon's high opinion of himself and his skills. It seemed that 145 years of sexual experience were obviously good for something after all.

"Well," Alaric shrugged after he'd pulled up his jeans and tucked himself away again. He noticed that Damon's jeans still hung open and his cock stuck straight up, still painfully hard but apparently not bothering the vampire too much.

"I think that you'll agree with me when I say between killing and screwing, let's have a go at the second option for now."

Damon's hands trailed a lazy pattern over Rick's now exposed chest and he gave one nipple a slight squeeze. His eyes gleamed in the low light and his voice sounded smug when he replied: "Huh, you mean since we tried the first option already, without the expected results?"

"Y-yes," Alaric hissed and closed his eyes when a new surge of pleasure set his body on fire again. He grabbed the vampire by his arms and pulled him along towards the bedroom.

"Okay," Damon shrugged and threw Alaric backwards onto the bed before he started climbing over him like the true predator he was. "I suppose we can always go back to trying to kill each other afterwards. Depending on which option proves to be more fun."

"I think I know which one that is already," Alaric grinned and pulled Damon down on top of him.

"Do you?" Damon smirked and raised an eyebrow.

Alaric merely let out a throaty laugh that got muffled once Damon's mouth descended over his.

And over the course of the next few hours both men realized that Isobel had been right in what she'd said to them. This was by far the more enjoyable option.


THE END

Please tell me if I did okay with the smut part. I haven't written explicit slash in a long time, so I'm not so sure it came out the way I wanted it to.