Title: Playing By His Rules
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (TV series).
Characters/pairing: Damon Salvatore/Jeremy Gilbert, established relationship.
Warnings: Sex with a minor. Jeremy Gilbert is sixteen. Spoilers, for season 2, episode 6.
Word Count: 1580 words.
Teaser: He hauled Jeremy into his room, practically throwing him across the room when they hit the doorway, and before Jeremy could even realize that he was on the bed, Damon was leaning over him, pushing him back, making him yield the way Damon wanted him to.
[[ … One-Shot … ]]
Lockwood's blood was still on his hand, the heart abandoned on the floor, when Damon looked up the stairs to see Jeremy leaning over the railing. The expression on his face was unreadable, and instead of trying to decipher it, Damon simply took the steps, two by two, and when he was close enough, he was aggressive, pushing into Jeremy's personal space and not taking 'no' for an answer.
Jeremy had stood there and watched, offered the wolfsbane with shaking fingertips, and his reaction to the torture had been exquisite. Not compelled to stay but refusing to leave; unable to watch but incapable of looking away. Damon leaned down, touched his lips to Jeremy's neck, just behind his ear. Jeremy shivered, but he didn't flinch away, and Damon made a noise low in the back of his throat.
"I didn't think you'd stay for that," he murmured, and as he pressed closer, his eyes slid closed. Jeremy didn't fight him, but he wasn't exactly yielding either. Damon shoved him up against the wall, his hand tight around Jeremy's throat. The kid reached up instinctively, his fingertips digging into the fleshy parts of Damon's hand, but Damon wasn't budging, and Jeremy knew that. He had to. It wasn't the first time they'd played that game.
"I ... I couldn't leave you like that," Jeremy whispered when Damon relaxed his grip enough that he could. Those eyes slid down, looking away from Damon.
Damon leaned forward, his teeth scraping over Jeremy's ear, and when that low whine escaped Jeremy, Damon's eyes closed, knowing that sound had sealed Jeremy's fate for the evening. He hauled Jeremy into his room, practically throwing him across the room when they hit the doorway, and before Jeremy could even realize that he was on the bed, Damon was leaning over him, pushing him back, making him yield the way Damon wanted him to. No compulsion, not like this, not when Damon was riding a high, not when he was wounded like this, raw and aching from the idiot that had reminded him of himself with Katherine. When Damon's hand pushed up under that soft cotton t-shirt, streaks of blood marking where he touched, Jeremy's eyes closed, and Damon bit his ear in response.
"Look at me," he ordered softly, jerking the shirt off of Jeremy and throwing it to the floor. Obediently, Jeremy glanced up at him, and Damon growled at the combination of fear and arousal that met him. "Just like that," he whispered, and Jeremy made another soft whining noise that convinced Damon that, above all else, Jeremy needed to be kissed. He took his time though, licking that soft lower lip, coaxing Jeremy into asking for it. It was a game between them, one that they both were still figuring out the rules to.
"Damon... Damon, please."
It was that easy, that simple. Two little words that made Damon bury his fingers into Jeremy's hair and pull him up just enough to kiss him, long and hard and deep. A promise of what was to come. And Jeremy was all sweet submission, making another low moan into Damon's mouth and reaching up to touch Damon's shoulders. For a moment, Damon let him, and then he pulled back from the kiss to murmur, "Hands on the bed," and Jeremy, sweet little thing that he was, complied, even with the urge to refuse clear in his eyes. Made the entire thing so much better, knowing that this was real, this was not coerced or forced. This was Jeremy, who knew Damon's rules and played by them because he liked to.
Damon pushed him back against the bed then, and he stripped off his partner's shoes, socks, jeans, and boxers with an ease that didn't reveal how long it had taken him to perfect that art. He pushed one hand down between Jeremy's legs, and when he wrapped his fingers around the arousal he found there, Jeremy's head tilted back up. He was biting his bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling, and Damon didn't bother to hide the grin that spread over his face at the sight. Instead, he leaned down and licked up Jeremy's chest, letting his knee wedge in between Jeremy's thighs.
He pulled his hand back and leaned up to hold Jeremy's chin, to make him look where Damon wanted him to, making him meet Damon's eyes. He wedged his knee up until Jeremy's length was pressed against the denim still covering Damon's thigh, and he asked softly, "What do you want, Jeremy?" He touched the tip of his tongue to Jeremy's bottom lip.
"Ah... Damon... You. I want you."
Jeremy whimpered as he shifted his hips to make himself rub against Damon's knee, and Damon licked the side of Jeremy's neck. He could feel the pulse beating there, and he knew Jeremy wouldn't care if he did bite him. It was strange, a willing dinner partner after so many years of compelling them, but Damon wasn't looking to bite just yet. Instead, he continued to lick, to suck hard enough to leave a mark- a sign to Elena and Stefan? Or was it just for himself?- and he let Jeremy rub himself against Damon's leg. It couldn't be that comfortable, but he had been teasing Jeremy most of the day. It was understandable.
He grinned, a flash of white teeth, and scraped an almost-bite across Jeremy's throat. Jeremy moaned under him, his hands twisting into the sheets on the bed as he struggled to keep them where Damon had told him. Damon moved then, reaching down to pull both of Jeremy's legs up, to bend him almost in half as he let those knees hook over his shoulders. Jeremy shifted under him, and Damon made a soft noise as he pulled the tiny bottle of lube from his pocket. The last of Lockwood's blood, he wiped on the back of Jeremy's thigh.
He pressed a kiss against Jeremy's calf- just a trace of teeth- and then his fingers were working their way inside. Jeremy made another soft whimper, and he bit his lip again as he looked up at Damon. Damon wondered, just for a moment, what exactly Jeremy saw when he looked at him, and then the thought was gone as he felt Jeremy tensing around his fingers.
"Breathe," he said softly, working to keep his own lungs working evenly. It was funny how his body seemed to forget how to work when it got to this point. He pushed in another finger, and then, satisfied that Jeremy wasn't going to tense back up, he reached back to open the fly of his jeans, to pull himself out and smear just enough lube to make it comfortable. Jeremy's bite turned his lip white when he felt Damon push against him, and Damon pressed another kiss to the leg over his shoulder.
Damon pushed in a little more roughly than he originally intended, but Jeremy was hot around him. Damon took only a moment to collect himself, to really feel Jeremy around him, and then he pulled out slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough that Jeremy gasped softly, his eyes sliding back open to look up at Damon. His lips parted, but nothing came out except a soft puff of air.
"Damon," he whispered, and Damon pushed back in, his hands digging into Jeremy's hips. There would be bruises, but neither of them cared at that moment. Instead, Damon continued his motions, pushing in and pulling out until Jeremy was moaning under him, arching as much as he could, given his position. Damon ran his tongue along the leg over his shoulder then, and he lost himself in the motions, in the heat and tightness and sheer vulnerability that was Jeremy Gilbert. Jeremy tensed under him, whimpering, and Damon growled as he felt Jeremy's release, hot over his stomach even through the shirt he still wore.
He was relentless, pushing Jeremy further into the bed, getting the angle just right until Jeremy was moaning all over again, his hands loosely gripping the sheets- for comfort or out of desperation, Damon didn't know. But then Jeremy was begging him, tightening around him, and Damon couldn't stand it, couldn't fight it. He came with a growl, having bent Jeremy to the point that he wasn't even sure that the kid could breathe, but Jeremy wasn't arguing. He just lay there, even after Damon finally pulled out of him, his eyes unfocused and staring at some point on the ceiling.
Damon didn't pull him into his arms, just found something that he could clean up with, tugged off his ruined shirt, and he turned back to study Jeremy. Jeremy was still flat on his back, one leg bent at the knee, one leg straight, his hands slowly releasing the sheets. Damon poured himself a drink, sat on the edge of the bed, cloth in his other hand, and after just another moment, he started to clean Jeremy up too. When he was done, he tossed the cloth to land on top of his discarded shirt, and he glanced toward the window.
Jeremy moved then, shifting just enough to lay his head on Damon's thigh.
"You should go home," Damon murmured, swishing the scotch around in the glass.
"Not yet," Jeremy whispered, and Damon let his free hand fall to touch that soft hair. No, he agreed with a faint smile. Not yet.