Rooftop Serenade

By Draic Kin of the Balance


"Lazy lover, find a place for me again,

you felt it once before,

I know you did, I could see it,

Whiskey princess,

drink me under, pull me in,

you had me at, 'come over, boy, I need a friend.'

I understand,

Backseat serenade,

dizzy hurricane,

Oh God, I'm sick of sleeping alone,

you're salty like a summer day,

kiss the sweat away,

to your radio,

Backseat serenade,

little hand-grenade,

Oh God, I'm sick of sleeping alone,

you're salty like a summer day,

kiss the pain away,

to your radio,

You take me over,

I throw you up against the wall,

we've seen it all before but this one's different,

it's deliberate,

You send me reeling,

calling out to you for more,

the value of this moment lives in metaphor,

yea, through it all." –All Time Low, Backseat Serenade


"You don't have to take the high road, Damon," said Elena, looking Damon in the eyes. "I'm not sired anymore to you. I want this. You want this." She could see the conflict in his eyes. If she hadn't flipped the switch to her emotions, her humanity, she would have cared more about how he felt. Just get the information he has and leave. Katherine is who you're after, not your former flame, she told herself. You feel nothing for him anymore.

"Elena," Damon began, and she placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. The words hung in the air between them, unsaid. Damon's eyes were filled with a lingering love, the kind of love that had the power to leave someone in tears because of the immeasurable power of that said love. Elena had to keep from scoffing aloud at him. He was trying to find the cure so she could become human again, the frail, weak, confused human girl she once was simply because she was now numb to her emotions. He didn't understand. Nobody did. Stefan was almost amusingly desperate to find and give her the cure just so she would be his bitch again.

She leaned her forehead against his, linking her arms around his neck, and their lips met. First softly, slowly, then passionately, desperately. "Damon," she murmured against his lips. "Damon, please." Get the information and get the hell out. She repeated the mantra over and over in her mind, but she was helpless against her desire for Damon. Damon, who had gotten in and under her skin. Damon, who had been the one to convince her to turn off her humanity. Damon, who had been the one to help her throughout her transition. Damon, the man she had once loved. Something deep within her still wanted him, even with her emotions off. And tonight, she would have him. Just for tonight, Elena. He'll be so distracted fucking you that he probably won't even notice. She tugged at his shirt, and he shrugged off his black, leather jacket before frantically unbuttoning her jacket.

"I want you, Elena," he said huskily. "Let me have you." He tore the jacket off her and tossed it to the ground, buttons flying about.

"Fuck me, Damon," she responded. "I want you inside me." He kissed her again and she crossed her arms, reaching for the hems of her lacy tank-top and tossing it to the side, leaving her breasts bared for him.

Damon kissed her lips, her shoulders, her neck, slightly nibbling her collarbone. He kissed her chest, making his way downwards. "God, Damon, yes! Yes!" she cried out. He unzipped her jeans, pulling them to the ground, and she stepped out of them.

"Elena, Elena, Elena…" Damon repeated her name as if it were a sacred prayer between every kiss. He ripped off her undergarments suddenly; Elena gasped in surprise and pleasure. She knotted her hands in his hair as she felt his tongue moving around inside her, circling again and again.

"Damon, oh yes! Fuck, yes! Oh. Oh. OH." Damon rose to face her and his mouth claimed hers. She reached for the belt on his jeans and frantically unfastened it, before unzipping them. Damon Salvatore, just as talented in bed as I remembered. Damon knelt down and lifted her up in his arms, not once breaking their kiss. Elena hitched her legs around him as he stepped out of his jeans. He took a few steps forward before setting her down gently on the ground. Elena dug her nails into his back as he began to suck on the hollow of her throat.

"Damon, Damon, yes! Fuck!" She arched her back, gasping aloud in pleasure. "Oh God, Damon!" She could feel Damon's simultaneous orgasm pulse through her body. "Fuck!" Damon broke their kiss to look her in the eyes, and if her heart was beating, it would have stopped at that very moment. In spite of everything, in spite of their circumstances, Damon was looking at her with the same expression he'd had when they'd first made love. Love, awe, as if he was seeing her for the first time—truly seeing her.

You don't know me, Damon, she thought coldly. Perhaps you never did. She smiled at him before pulling him in for another kiss and rolling them over so she was dominating him.

"You are amazing," Damon said breathlessly, "even with your humanity off." Elena chuckled before rocking her hips against him as their hands intertwined. She threw her head back, crying aloud in pleasure. Damon grunted, panting beneath her as he struggled to regain his breath. She smiled, baring her fangs at him playfully.

"Elena! Elena, oh God! Oh my…holy shit. Oh." Damon came to her again before jolting upright so she was sitting in his lap. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, passionately. She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder, stifling her cries. Elena cocked her head to the side so she was able to reach Damon's neck, and she sank her fangs into him. He gasped, and breathed, "Blood sharing during sex? That's a new one." Elena was about to respond when she felt the brief, sharp pain of his fangs in her neck. They rocked their hips against one another, harder and faster with each thrust. Damon couldn't help but recall the first time he and Elena had first shared blood. She'd been desperate and hungry; it'd been impossible for her to keep down any blood: animal blood, human blood from the blood bags at the hospital, and she'd refused to feed from the townspeople. Her feeding off of him had been a frantic, last-ditch resort to satisfy her thirst until Matt had willingly volunteered to supply her with his blood from his veins. Now, the pleasure of sharing blood had become more personal and intimate than ever.

Elena tore away from Damon's neck as she came once again. She whimpered in bliss, and for a moment, she thought she was smiling. Damon was still drinking from her, his arms wrapped around her. "Yes, yes, Damon! Holy fuck—OH." He pulled away from her neck and stared lustfully into her eyes before they both climaxed at the same time. Elena smashed her lips against his as he fell back onto the pavement, brushing his hands through her dark hair. In the pale moonlight, the red streak in her hair was as red as blood. She pulled away from the kiss and rested atop of his chest, their naked bodies entwined as their hearts once were.

"Wow," said a breathless Damon. Elena smirked at him, draping her arm across his chest. He caressed her bare back; she could feel the same electricity she'd felt when they'd spent their first night together.

"Wow indeed, Damon," she responded. "I've never fucked on a rooftop before. I'm surprised at how good it was."

"And now you have fucked on a rooftop," he said. "It's funny, really. Lexi and I fucked here on this very spot. She was trying to persuade me to turn my humanity on, and things…escalated."

"Clearly," Elena agreed. "You can stop trying to force the cure down my throat, Damon. I know how much you and Stefan want that. And guess what? I don't want that. I don't want the fucking cure."

"Elena—"

"You told me to flip the switch because I couldn't cope with my brother's death," she went on harshly, "and I did. I'm better like this, Damon. Like I told you before, I feel amazing. I'm no longer weighed down by everything. It feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest."

"It feels good to be without your humanity," Damon countered, "but then, when you decide to turn everything back on, it feels like shit. Believe me, I know."

"Who said I wanted to feel again?" Elena growled. "I don't. With my emotions, I was weak. I was confused, and I didn't know what the hell I wanted—but now I do. You and Stefan and everyone else need to back the hell off before people start getting hurt." She glared at him, praying she'd made herself clear. Who the hell am I kidding? They'll stop at nothing to force the cure down my throat.

Damon met her glare unflinchingly, and she could almost hear what he was thinking. This isn't over yet, Elena.

Let's hope he and Stefan learn to move on from their little crusade, or Mystic Falls will be raining blood.