Title: Pieces
Author: Traxits
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (TV series).
Characters/pairing: Damon Salvatore/Jeremy Gilbert, established relationship.
Rating: Mature.
Warnings: Sex with a minor. Jeremy Gilbert is fifteen/sixteen.
Word Count: 2973 words.
Teaser: One of Damon's hands clenched, and he wondered for a moment if this was what he had been reduced to. Seducing someone so naïve. So innocent. He licked his bottom lip, and then he lifted a hand and motioned for Jeremy to come to him.

[[ … One-Shot … ]]

No amount of whiskey could burn away the bitter taste in the back of Damon's mouth. He'd already poured two of his reserve bottles down his throat, and still it lingered. She hadn't been in the damn tomb after all, hadn't been desperately waiting for someone to sweep her into his arms and rescue her. He sat with Stefan for as long as he could, and then he stormed out, ignoring Stefan's shouted, "Where are you going?"

He walked quickly, alternating between a run and a walk, reaching up to rake a hand through his hair each time he slowed back down. He couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop seeing her face. He'd imagined the moment hundreds of times over the years, thousands perhaps, each a slight variance on the same theme.

He'd have been the white knight for once. The hero.

It wasn't until he heard the music that he stopped, glanced around and wondered just how he'd managed to find himself in front of the Gilbert house. He tilted his head, listening. Elena wasn't home; probably at the witch's place. Jenna was in the kitchen; opening the fridge. She was perpetually hungry, it seemed. Jeremy, though. Jeremy was in his room, typing away at the keyboard.

For a heartbeat, he stayed perfectly still. Then he was climbing through Jeremy's window, not even caring that he had no way to explain it to the kid, no way to justify what he knew he was about to do. When Jeremy's head lifted at the sound of the window opening, Damon darted across the room, drawing a slow, deep breath. Slowly, Jeremy clicked the laptop closed, and he moved over to close the window, staring at it as though it were possessed.

When Jeremy turned around, Damon didn't move. Jeremy's pulse jumped, but he stayed relatively still, not as shocked as he could have been.

"Damon? What are you doing here?"

One of Damon's hands clenched, and he wondered for a moment if this was what he had been reduced to. Seducing someone so naïve. So innocent. He licked his bottom lip, and then he lifted a hand and motioned for Jeremy to come to him.

Jeremy did, hesitating only briefly before he crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"Sh," Damon murmured, and he pulled Jeremy against him the moment Jeremy was close enough. He ignored the way Jeremy tensed under him, pressing a hurried kiss to those lips without caring about the consequences. His fingers traced Jeremy's wrist, found it bare of his special Vervain bracelet, and all control went out the proverbial window.

Jeremy pushed him then, and he leaned back, drawing in a quick breath as he looked at Damon. His brow was furrowed, confused, and Damon could hardly blame him. Jeremy stepped back, and he asked in a soft voice, "What the hell, man?"

Damon's eyes narrowed, and he closed the distance. He kept up the physical contact, needing it far more than he was willing to admit. "You know what I am," he murmured, and Jeremy's expression shuttered. The kid really did know. Damon hadn't been expecting that. He didn't bother to stop the slow grin that spread over his face.

The night just kept getting more and more interesting.

Jeremy's heart rate jumped, and Damon leaned forward, breathing in. He smelled like dirt- probably from when he'd been knocked out and left as bait- but under that, there was something... something almost alluring. Damon pressed a soft kiss just under Jeremy's ear. His hands slid down to press against Jeremy's hips, intending on pulling him closer, on laying some kind of claim to him.

But Jeremy leaned back, his breath shallow and quick, his eyes narrow as he studied Damon. "Wait, what is this? What-"

"Sh," Damon murmured. He didn't want to compel him, but he would if he had to. He would have to before he left anyway. Jeremy swallowed, and Damon kissed his neck once more. "You think about me." It wasn't a question. Damon had already gotten the answer to that the first time he'd compelled him.


Another kiss, this one pressed against those lips, and Damon's hands pushed up into soft brown hair, pulled him down, pulled him close. He wanted to slam Jeremy against the wall, to lick and suck and bite him as he pushed into him, but he needed something more. He needed it to be real, to be uncoerced, and no compulsion tainting the entire thing.

He needed someone to need him, just for the one night.

Jeremy made a low noise under Damon's mouth, and Damon wasn't one to pass up such an opportunity. He pulled a small handful of Jeremy's hair, tilting his head just enough that Damon could taste him. Then Jeremy was kissing him back, his tongue sliding against Damon's, and when he so gently touched one of Damon's teeth, fangs erupted, making Jeremy gasp and jerk back to stare at Damon with even wider eyes.

Damon didn't even bother to hide his reaction, just kept the distance between them steady, making every step that Jeremy did. The backs of Jeremy's legs hit the edge of the bed, and then Damon was leaning over Jeremy, straddling his hips and pushing him back to lay flat against the bed.

Jeremy made a soft moan, and Damon leaned down to bite at that lower lip, to tug on it just a little. He felt Jeremy's hands slide up his hips, over his back.


His name fell so sweetly off of those lips that it actually made Damon stop for a moment, made him look down at him. He leaned back, pushing one of his hands under the soft t-shirt Jeremy wore. "Mm?"

Jeremy swallowed, and Damon could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing. Nerves? "Are... are you going to bite me?"

Damon licked his lips, drew in a breath, and he asked lowly, "Do you want me to bite you?" He wanted to bite Jeremy, wanted to sink his teeth in at the same moment that he pushed into him, that he laid total claim to someone who wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. He bit back the disappointment welling up at the thought, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand.

"I... I think so," he said quietly, and his voice trembled. He was still looking at Damon's face though, hadn't turned away or hidden his expression, and that was what held Damon's attention the most. Out some sort of morbid curiosity, Damon offered him a little grin, flashing his fangs.

Of all things, he hadn't been expecting Jeremy to reach up to touch them, to prick one of his fingers on one. The scent of blood so close to him was overwhelming, and Damon licked it off of Jeremy's finger, then pushed him back and licked his neck. "You think so?"

"Damon..." Jeremy shivered, but his voice had gained some strength. "Please... Damon, do it."

No one could have refused that invitation- not even Stefan the Saint- and when Damon bit him, Jeremy moaned just loudly enough that Damon put a hand over his mouth. Elena wasn't back at home yet, but the last thing that Damon wanted was any interruptions. He wanted Aunt Jenna to stay exactly where she was in the kitchen.

The blood over his tongue was coppery and sharp, perhaps made that much better when Damon let himself think about the fact that Jeremy had asked him to do it. He pushed his hand further up under Jeremy's shirt, and when his fingers brushed over one of Jeremy's nipples, he was rewarded with a slight arch into his touch. He drew back just enough to strip all of Jeremy's clothes, tossing them without a moment's consideration to some far corner of the room.

He slid down that chest then, licking and pressing soft, suckling kisses that would probably bruise for Jeremy to wonder at in the morning. He closed his eyes, and he felt Jeremy's hands tangling in his hair, tugging slightly at his own shirt. Damon didn't undress himself though. He wanted to taste Jeremy first, to feel the texture of that skin against his tongue.

Jeremy made the most exquisite noises, combinations of whimpers and moans, of pleas and demands all in the same trembling voice. Damon didn't ever want to stop, didn't want to let his end. He wanted to bleed the kid dry, wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was okay, wanted to never let go of him.

His tongue swirled over one of those nipples, soft and teasing, even as he twisted the other just enough to make Jeremy whimper. He dragged his nails over Jeremy's stomach, scraped his teeth down Jeremy's chest. And Jeremy, sweet thing that he was, didn't stop him, just took it and shivered, his heart racing as he must have started to realize where this was going. What the end game was.

Damon didn't stop to soothe him, just kept on doing exactly what he wanted to do. He would soothe Jeremy the next time- already he knew that this wasn't something that he could just stop doing- and treat him better. He needed this now, needed to have someone simply accept him without trying to change him, without trying to guilt him or manipulate him into doing anything.

He peeled off his shirt, and Jeremy's fingers were hesitant as they first touched his skin. Damon's eyes closed, and he moved just enough to drop the rest of his clothes. He tucked a little bottle into the palm of his hand and returning to leaning over Jeremy. He felt his skin brushing over Jeremy's, and for just a moment, Damon thought that he could feel Jeremy's blood rushing just beneath his skin.

Then he felt Jeremy pressing up against him, and all thoughts fled, replaced with a hunger that rivaled even the worst of the blood lusts. Damon growled lowly, warning Jeremy, and then he was kissing him again. He was rougher this time, pricking Jeremy's bottom lip just enough for blood to well up, tugging sharply enough to make Jeremy moan.

He clicked open the bottle, smearing some of the lube over his fingers, and he swallowed the sound that escaped Jeremy at the first flick of his fingers. Then Damon sucked sharply on Jeremy's tongue just as he pressed one finger in. Jeremy tensed up under him, his body so far gone from arousal and nerves that he could hardly think enough to make himself relax.

Damon softened the kiss, and he forced himself to breathe, to lick over the bite on Jeremy's neck. He murmured softly, "Breathe, pretty boy," and Jeremy blew out a breath that Damon wondered if he knew he'd been holding. "Gonna take it nice and slow," he whispered, his lips against Jeremy's ear, and slowly, slowly, the tension in Jeremy's body eased. Damon licked Jeremy's ear, and he slid down to take just the tip of Jeremy's length into his mouth. Little more than a tease.

He was careful to retract the fangs- sexy they might have been, it was unnerving to feel them scrape against that, to say the least- and as he licked, he worked his finger in and out of Jeremy. When Jeremy started to rock between the two sensations, Damon added a second finger, and finally a third. By that point, he was aching, needing to be inside of the body that he was so carefully preparing, needing it far worse than he wanted to admit to himself.

Then he gave one last lick to Jeremy's arousal, and he pulled off and smeared just a little more lube over his own length. He shifted Jeremy under him, and then he was pressing against the muscle his fingers had been working on. Jeremy made this low noise, and Damon kissed him softly, drawing back to ask something- perhaps if Jeremy was sure- but he was cut off by the soft, "Damon, please..! Please, I ... I want you," that Jeremy almost sobbed out.

He couldn't move for a moment, and then he sank into Jeremy, moaning at the heat and tightness around him. He pushed all the way in, stopping only once he couldn't move any further. He held himself up off of Jeremy, and Jeremy's arms were wrapped around him, palm flat against his back, pulling him close. Given the chance, Jeremy probably would have been holding himself clean off of the bed just to stay wrapped around Damon.

"Breathe," he reminded quietly, although even he could hear that his voice was rough and low and not at all like he normally sounded. Jeremy made another low whimper, his hands pressing against Damon's back, and Damon pressed a kiss to Jeremy's forehead, his cheek, his lips. Only after he had Jeremy's focus back to his mouth did he move, and even then it wasn't so much to pull out as it was to simply rock against Jeremy.

He drank in the next moan that Jeremy made, and he made a promise to himself that at least once, he'd take Jeremy somewhere that he could properly appreciate the sounds that he could draw out of the kid. Then he wasn't focusing on anything except for the scent of blood still in the room and the feel of Jeremy so tight around him, squeezing him and arching into the movements.

Damon lowered himself then, just enough to let Jeremy's length rub against his stomach with each movement, and when he finally started to slide out and push back in, Jeremy's nails dug into his back. Damon licked Jeremy's throat, not letting himself reopen the wound but unable to leave it completely alone, but when Jeremy bit him to muffle another cry, Damon's eyes darkened.

He jerked his mouth back from Jeremy's throat, uncertain of his ability to control himself, and at the feel of Jeremy's tongue so lightly tracing the bite he'd just left on Damon's shoulder, Damon growled. He moved faster, needing it, needing to take Jeremy as rough as he could, to make Jeremy take him at his most uncontrolled. And Jeremy, sweet Jeremy, simply dug his nails further into Damon's back, and then he was whimpering, his body tensing around Damon.

He came, hot and hard, over Damon's stomach, and the scent of it combined with the expression on Jeremy's face as he sank into the afterglow was too much. Damon pushed in one last time, his fingers squeezing Jeremy's pillow hard enough that he almost expected to hear it tearing under him. His release was rough, and as he rode it out, he could feel Jeremy gently nuzzling against his chest.

By the time he came down from it, Jeremy was looking up at him, face flushed and lips bruised, with more marks over his body than Damon figured he'd ever be able to explain. Damon pulled out of him carefully, and he pressed another soft kiss to the side of Jeremy's throat. It wasn't like Jeremy would get to remember it, after all; he couldn't tell anyone that Damon could be gentle.

He ducked into the restroom to find something to clean up with, and when he padded back into the bedroom, Jeremy was sitting up, staring at his hand. It kept trembling, and Damon pursed his lips. "Shouldn't be sitting yet," he murmured, and he pushed Jeremy back down to the bed.

"Have you done this before?" Jeremy glanced up at him, his blush darkening when Damon reached down to gently clean him up. "Done this and made me forget? You," he swallowed, "can do that, can't you?" His eyes darted away, and Damon waited until he was done before he shook his head.

He lightly held Jeremy's chin, making him look back at Damon. "Yes, I can do that, but no, we haven't done this before," he said quietly, and he brushed his fingers through Jeremy's hair. He leaned forward, stealing one last kiss from that mouth before he leaned back to murmur, "You, pretty boy, are going to go to sleep now. You dreamed this." Damon couldn't make himself remove the memory completely. He wanted Jeremy to have it, wanted to have some secret that they shared, even if Jeremy didn't realize it.

Jeremy nodded slightly, and he didn't fight as Damon peeled the covers out from under him. "I dreamed this," he whispered, and Damon ignored the bitter taste in his throat at those words. Instead, he threw away the evidence of what had happened and dressed. He was just slipping out the window when he heard Elena entering the house. Either she or Jenna one would be up to check on Jeremy.

Damon looked back up toward the sky, and he started walking again. He'd left the house trying to forget about Katherine, about his own monumental failure, and he was finally walking back home, this time trying to forget about a pretty boy he'd left sleeping in a bed alone.

So when the car with three Tri-Delts stopped and asked him if he needed a lift, who was he to argue? He needed the distraction.