Title: Room 318

Type: Slash, Snark, Friendship, FirstTime, CoercedSex, UST

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries [ Showverse ]

Pairing: Alaric Saltzman/Damon Salvatore

Setting: Set shortly after "Bad Moon Rising" (Season 2, Episode 3)

Word Count: 6657

Summary: Damon and Alaric take a road trip to learn more about the moonstone and the werewolves, which leads them to Mexico. It's been three days, and Alaric has been learning what it is to be exposed to Damon on a 24/7 basis. The third night, in room 318, it seems the final lesson is about to be learnt. Alaric is a little troubled that he isn't hating the idea. Damon is just being Damon, forcing Alaric to drink with him and being all deviant seductive vamp, without thinking anything of it. Only one way this can go, right?

Warnings: There are no big spoiler moments here really, but just in case, do not read if you have not seen episodes prior to "Bad Moon Rising" (Season 2, Episode 3). Not spiteful smut; run away now if character development scares you. NC-17 rating is given for the series, not any individual chapter, though no chapter will be completely "clean" (mature language, references, interactions etc). This is a co-write, so apologies if the perspective seems a little choppy but don't cry about it. Alaric is written by me, Varrosgirly, and Damon by Jaxon666.

It was no inflated feat to compel yet another motel receptionist into giving over a set of room keys free of charge, but Damon was still pleased with himself nonetheless. Besides, it was his third night on the road with Alaric in search of answers regarding werewolves and the moonstone, and they had already made a number of stops; mutual friends collectively leading them to Mexico. Those were all boring, needless details though, and Damon could care less. Right now, all he cared about at the surface of his mind was that he got to tease and meddle with Alaric for a third night running, and who could blame him really? Alaric was so precious when he was so well rattled.

Smirking to himself, Damon barged into room 318 of the "Road Rooster Motel" after swinging open the door, opening it with the key he had supernaturally hustled, barging into the unflattering room as though he were about to vandalise it. Still, it was better than some of the rooms they'd stayed in these last few nights; spacious, and at least it was clean. Damon hurled himself backwards through the air and onto one of the single beds, the springs creaking for a moment as they reacted to the sudden shifting of weight and pressure.

"Well Alaric my friend, I am officially bored. You should check the pay-per-view porn out, let me know if there's something good.", the vampire said, the melody of his voice going up and down the scale with playful energy, and yet there always seemed to be some measure of truth to his words, didn't there?

Alaric didn't care much about the compelling, even if he disagreed the first day on whatever moral grounds. It wasn't worth it to get into that again, and it was saving him money. He was more concerned with getting a decent night's rest tonight, as the past couple had fallen far short of it. Most likely wishful thinking, but it was better than being cynical, even if it was mostly true.

He followed Damon to the room, one bag over his shoulder and the other in his hand, eager to at least try sleeping. Alaric set them down beside a worn table and sat down on the other bed, which looked like it was a bit musty. "I am not going to look up porn," he sighed, removing his shoes before laying back on the bed. "I just want to sleep. It's been a very long couple days."

Even if Damon got the hint, it was very unlikely he'd respect it. Damon respected nothing. "Raid the mini-fridge or something, there's always booze." A drunk Damon was more likely to go out and look for some action than stay in and keep him awake.

"Oh look-", Damon said, sounding like he was insensitive to Alaric's comments, while he rummaged through the nearby bedside cabinet, "-complimentary condoms. Thoughtful.", he held two of the packaged contraceptives between two fingers to show Alaric before tossing them back into the drawer and shutting it.

"Tired Ric? Pity, I'm not. A drink sounds just my speed though. I'll have mine on the rocks-", he did his eye thing, with typical provocativeness, followed by an obnoxiously callous smile, "-you can have yours however you want it.", Damon invited himself to Alaric's waiting services without batting an eyelid, as well as his drinking company, and as softly as it was put it sounded just short of a demand. Better not to try and resist; unsatisfied Damon was much more difficult to deal with than happy Damon…well, most of the time.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as if it'd make Damon disappear. Unfortunately that didn't work right now. "Silly me, thinking a vampire would get tired," he muttered. Alaric sat up on his elbows, his eyes just starting to get bloodshot. He finally got up, too tired to start an argument of any kind. In the fridge he found cheap rum, which he poured into a tumbler, adding a few pieces of ice.

"I'm not joining you in drinking tonight," he said, putting the glass on the bedside table. Alaric got back onto his bed and shut his eyes once more. "I don't know what to expect in Mexico, so it's best that I get my strength up before tomorrow." He should have brought ear plugs, or maybe some very heavy sleeping medicine.

"You don't have to be tired-", Damon used questionable emphasis of the 'friend or foe' variety, eyes widening as he looked to his breathing accomplice, "-a little vampire blood would perk you right up. Promise not to kill you if you take me up on the offer. History teachers don't really cut it as vampires...not like para-psychologists do, and trust me, I know. Past experience.", his smirk was evil, and the glint in his eye as devious as that of a demonic deity, unruffled danger ebbing from his aura in stray flickers of ill-contained thunder.

"Oh Rickyboy-", he cocked his head sharply, like a cat responding to reflex, "-I wasn't asking. More like telling. You should get on with it.", Damon smouldered without knowing of the fact, or caring about it.

Alaric shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. Maybe if he ignored Damon, he'd fall asleep. Highly unlikely, Damon was one who refused to be ignored. He ground his teeth just a bit, knowing that he would just get goaded into a reaction. How he'd been able to get past the Salvatore turning his ex-wife, he didn't know. Maybe he wasn't as beyond it as he imagined himself to be.

"I'm not going to have your blood." His voice had a bit of an edge to it, but that wasn't unexpected. It seemed like Damon was in a mood that could turn sour very quickly. And then he'd get absolutely no sleep at all. Alaric opened his eyes, sitting up again. "One drink. And then I'm sleeping." He got up and poured himself a glass of the rum, landing back on the bed heavily. He raised it in a mock toast to Damon before taking a sip. "I'm sure you can find someone else to spend the night bugging. Besides me."

"One drink, two...who's counting?", and though it was obvious Alaric was and with good reason, the point Damon made was in subtext; Alaric would rest once the vampire had had his fun, no matter the good natured mortal's insisted drinking limit, which in itself was reluctantly given. Damon sipped at his ice cold rum without even paying real attention to Alaric's sarcastic gesture with his own glass; he saw it happen, he just didn't care, and thus his gazes burnt through it. "There's always someone or something to bug Ric, but why settle for ham when I already have a nice, bloody steak?", he smiled with his bright, Baltic eyes which seemed almost silvery at times, especially when he initiated certain looks with them.

"You like me Ric, don't deny it. There were moments last night when you were sandwiched between those two strippers like a man-shaped pate, that you smiled at me like only a true BFF would. Touching really. No shame in it. Didn't you hear; Sapphic fangirling is out, and potentially deadly bromance is all the way in.", he sipped again after continuing to simmer with retorting innuendo; that rum would need refilling in a very short time.

Alaric leaned his elbows onto his knees, glass dangling between his legs. He'd had a sip but didn't plan on finishing the drink too quickly. The sooner he finished it, the sooner Damon would insist on another. The second would turn into a third, and so on until there was nothing left. "Well I was also very hammered last night. Great for driving today, thanks for that."

He did take another drink of his rum, though, and stretched, yawning widely. "I'll admit it was fun, but there's no strip joints or bar hopping tonight for me." He hadn't been as lost a drunk as he made himself out to be, and reluctantly would agree to enjoying Damon's company.

"You need to remember that this trip isn't about bromance, Damon. We're actually doing something with all this." Alaric laid on his side but propped up on an arm, showing he was planning on staying put. "And as long as you don't drag out the stay here, we can get where we need to go in decent time tomorrow."

"I like you drunk.", Damon's second word was drawn out and higher in tone, spoken in the fashion of a child, "And hey, I did my part. I provided the entertainment, singing over the classic rock station. I also provided the boycandy and hours of frivolous conversation. Did I mention how hot I am?", and there was the eye thing again, a perfect compliment to the fact that for the first time within these four walls at least, Damon had been of a humorous, warming sentiment, rather than one that antagonized; one of those rare gems he gifted every now and then, and even those who most hated him were thankful for it, willing or not.

"All work and no play makes Ric a dull boy. Come on Ric, it's not like we can't let our hair down, especially me. You might not have noticed but I have great hair.", he paid himself another compliment, but Alaric and everyone else who had ever known Damon for more than ten minutes was used to that by now. "Tell you what, if you play along with my desire to not bang my head against a wall tonight, I'll do all the driving tomorrow. I'll even let you sleep. Deal?", Damon's smirk said he was up to something, but then it always did. Hard to say what.

The look on Alaric's face was one not too far from hopeless despair. "Not until now tonight, that must be a record for you. But you did provide entertainment...and me losing a shirt." More the fault of the combination of stripper and alcohol, but who was keeping score? "I think I've let my hair down a lot this trip. All play and no work...turns people into dead meat. No offence."

He sipped at his rum again, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out Damon's game. There was always something up with the vampire, especially when he offered to be so accommodating. "I'll play along...as long as I'm promised a few hours sleep. And I'd prefer not to leave the room." Things would get out of hand quickly following that, obviously. At least this motel was so cheap it didn't have a pool.

"Nice. You know, I like you a lot more when you play along.", Damon shared colourfully, his seductive behaviours completely involuntary and yet aggressively potent from nuanced body language and strut of his step, to the varying silky textures of his voice. "I'm not so bad...I just like to have a little fun...mostly a lot of it. I mean of course I'm bad but...well, you know.", his glass now empty, it was Damon this time who got up from the bed and refilled it, doing Alaric the favour of retirement from waiting duties, a subtle sign of respect in honour of the principal of what one did to another who scratched their back. Of course, the vampire returned with the bottle, as well as another one to succeed it. Superspeed or not, Damon found return trips tiresome.

"If only you weren't so...human and do-goody, I think you and me would set houses on fire.", despite the intended tone of irony and mild criticism towards the other male's mortal frailty and gentle ways, Damon had just paid him a compliment that wasn't too well-hidden. After all, Damon did not take to many people, let alone human people.

Alaric sat up and took a long drink of the rum, nearly emptying it before setting it on the table. "Well, bad yes. Not entirely evil, which I'm not too broken up over." He mentally groaned at the sight of an additional bottle, hoping this night would end peacefully. And mostly sober, though if he was playing along tonight, that had a snowball's chance in hell of being reality. He finished off his first glass already, knowing it'd be filled in a moment anyway.

"Well thank you Damon." Alaric tilted his head a little, pouring himself another glass. "If you weren't a pushy vampire, I'd have a normal sleeping routine. And some boring days." He couldn't deny that spending time with Damon was fun, and relaxing in its own ways, sometimes. "So we're just drinking tonight?" He hoped for it, but knew there would be more than that.

"Sounds like you're up for a little more than that.", Alaric had tempted fate within a stone's throw of Damon; never a good idea, or was it? "Why don't we play a little game?", and there was the eye thing again. Funny how even if you weren't looking, you saw it anyway as soon as it happened, "We take turns; you get to ask me anything you want, and I have to answer honestly, then it's the same for me.", a short-lived silence filled the air, and Damon chuckled at the lack of speed in Alaric's agreement.

"You're not afraid are you? How much trouble can I really get you into? As if you're not the least bit curious.", Damon's devious pathology was ever present, and yet accusing him of it had become redundant.

He rose an eyebrow to that, head tilted slightly. "And how can I know you'll be answering honestly? You're a convincing liar, you could give the devil a run for his money." That was a very dicey game, too. If Damon asked just the wrong question...well, he had agreed to play along tonight, hadn't he? At least in hopes of some shut-eye. "I'm sure you could get me into much more trouble than I care to imagine." Alaric sighed and took a large sip from his glass.

"Fine. Guess first question's on me." He looked silently at Damon for a moment before deciding on one. "What would you have done with your life if you hadn't become a vampire?" Mostly harmless, but Alaric was curious about what made Damon, Damon. How different could he have been?

"Would I lie to you...being that I a) have no shame and b) would snap your neck in a heartbeat if you even thought of using anything I tell you against me?", the opening words of that sentence were said with animated ridiculousness, and of course, Damon would never actually kill Alaric as a result of divulging details obtained from a carefree game, would he? As Alaric formed his first question after a moment of stumbling around his better judgment, Damon's expression all of a sudden came to a rushed beam. "That's more like it."

Damon's right hand stroked at his jaw line as the legs of a spider contracting over and over as he sought to answer the question put to him, "Now let's see...if I'd never become a vampire, which would mean I never met Katherine...what would I have done? Lame question by the way. If I were you, I'd have another drink.", hopefully Alaric would be a little more daring if he medicated his approach with a little more alcohol, then again, perhaps Damon's thinking was wishful. After all, Alaric was the sensitive, intellectual type, maybe he actually wanted to know this sort of stuff. No, he may have been a little stiff, but he was no Stefan, and Damon could account for that from intermittent nights of unprompted drinking and random male bonding sessions. Drink would tease it out of him.

"Well, as hard as it is to imagine, I was a sucky human. I sucked hard. I never stuck to anything, and I lived in Stefan's shadow even though I was the oldest. Obedient little Damon, his father's errand boy. Couldn't put a right foot forward. I guess eventually I would have taken whatever station that daddy told me to, after he'd set it up. I'd be right up there with the rest of the lemmings in the founding families, no future, no fun, and an unimpressive reputation. Beyond that...maybe a loveless marriage or two, and a life of resentment for a brother who only had to get out of bed to get a round of applause. That about answer your question?", taking a trip through such thoughts of what was and what might have been was a little unsettling for Damon; the past was not a thing he found to be commonplace in the sense that it seemed unfamiliar to him now, another life entirely. Ironic too with such feelings towards the past, since as vampire, he had so much of it, perhaps too much.

Alaric fiddled with the ring on his finger absent mindedly, wondering if Damon was serious or just acting on impulse and sarcasm. It was hard to tell the two apart sometimes. He'd killed Jeremy once, but that had been from a very unstable state of mind. He was most likely safe. Alaric snorted a laugh but did take another drink. Damon was being less than antagonizing, so he was feeling in a better mood about being kept awake longer than he wanted. That led to him being more agreeable on some things.

What he heard surprised him a bit, though. Alaric never expected any version of Damon to be less of a dick than he was as a vampire. Or to have resigned to being in Stefan's shadow. But it made sense of some things, he supposed. "Yeah, that about covers it I guess." He smiled and took another drink. "Not often I get to hear the history of a vampire. But your turn." Alaric prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best.

"Trust me, even though I'm a dick, I'm much more fun as a vampire.", Damon half-pouted for whatever reason, though it was merely an involuntary means to express how much he absolutely loved himself, and the truth of his last comment; boastful almost, "Speaking of dick...my turn. How big is the Ric-stick?", and be the lingering look of uncensored protrusion that glowed darkly from his ageless eyes, it was clear Damon wasn't joking.

He continued, with a brief recurring dance of his brow, "I've heard you and Jenna going at it with the naughty nookie-times, and I've been wondering what all the fuss is about. Or is Jenna just...easily pleased?", his eyes widened like a trickster God about to play a prank.

He choked on the rum, having made the mistake of taking a sip before Damon asked his question. Alaric had the clear expression on his face of the silent plea for Damon to have been joking. Of course he wasn't, no matter how much Alaric wanted him to be. He'd agreed to play this stupid game. He should have expected something like that, though. The history teacher took another long drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"First, I'm not answering the second question. It doesn't count. And..." He sighed, looking at the ceiling for a moment and gritting his teeth. "Seven," he finally said, though being so human he looked ashamed at the admittance. "My turn. Ever turned to prostituting yourself?" Might as well, Damon was opening the can of worms of sex questions. He'd have kept prodding until Alaric gave into it, he was sure.

"Only seven?", Damon said after a brief, dastardly, soul riveting chuckle, "Must be good with it then. That much noise from that much tool.", his pleasure was not of the cruel kind but more so one that was riddled with casual masculine approval, however unconventional the titillated look that hung from his eerily flawless features. After offering Alaric a wink to finalise his liking, Damon turned to answering Alaric's second question, with notable ease, "Hey, if you deserve this, you're gonna get it for free. 'Course, you might lose just a little bit of your soul and dignity in the process.", he licked his lips in splendour of his own sexy badness.

"You even trying? You're going way too easy on me.", but then, if Alaric wanted to play it safe, Damon could understand that since well, if he asked a question that wasn't well met, he might find himself in a compromising position or worse. On top of that, it just gave Damon room to have much more of his own fun, "My turn...again.", he said mischievously, eye thing in tow, "You ever thought about me naked? Don't lie...I can smell it.", Damon was such a bastard and he knew it, in fact it delighted him. Everyone else too, he just couldn't figure out why they were so resistant in admitting it.

At least Damon had dropped the subject of his penis. Alaric wasn't the kind to whip it out and compare, though he wondered if the vampire had wanted something like that. Ridiculous, that was only his slightly buzzed mentality talking. He continued to add to that state of mind, though, and his glass was dangerously close to empty again. Hadn't he insisted he'd only drink one? He found himself regretting this game once again, and he looked at the television as if it were actually on and displaying something very interesting. Alaric sighed and decided to just play along. Though telling the truth wasn't exactly playing.

"Yeah, I've thought about it." His drunk self had no inhibitions, even in thought. "Not often, and it took a while to reach that thought, but I have." Alaric finished off his glass and quickly poured another. He was going to need it, he figured. "Making me wonder with this vein of questioning, Damon." He drank a few gulps of rum. "So my turn. Are you trying to get me into bed with you?" Unless Damon was just pushing his buttons and being a complete dick about everything, as always, Alaric couldn't see another reason for it.

At first, Damon's eyes darted around all over Alaric's pressure points as if seeking for a change in heartbeat, his looks penetrative and investigatory as if looking for a lie. It had only been for show though, to rattle Alaric's cage a little bit; of course Alaric didn't lie, it wasn't his thing, "Honest. I like that about you, Ric. Well that, and you smell different-", his eyes flared with a subtle but present fire at his last word, "-cleaner than other humans, even when you're sloppy drunk."

He laughed with the slightly manic glee of a punch-drunk thing of Hell as Alaric proceeded to question him a further time, however the shape and sound of such was cut short by a quick blur that ended with Alaric beneath Damon, who now smouldered above him, without even accidental touch. "If I wanted you in my bed, you'd be in it. Not like you'd say no. Can't say I haven't thought about it. Me: hot vampire with no morals. You: hot human with lots of them to break and put back together again. I can think of worse ways to pass time.", at this point, Damon's frosty eyes didn't even seem like eyes at all, more like orbs of fluid and energy that pulsed with stifling electrical pattern.

His stance became more relaxed, though physically it didn't change much. Sitting on top of Alaric's thighs now, Damon was upright, no longer feeling Alaric's warm, anxious breath against his mouth. With another, especially another man, this closeness would have been absolutely inappropriate. But Damon wasn't a man so much as a force, a dirty, wicked night-fiend, absent restraint and any manner parallel to that which was typical. For Damon, there was nothing taboo about his current position, he had just taken it, and that was that; who cared? No surprise really, Damon often got very handsy, and publicly so, even with his brother who he so despised.

His hands went behind him and firmly gripped the tensed muscles just above Alaric's knees, using the leverage created to keep himself upright, not that he really needed to. He made no secret of how utterly pleased with himself he was at this point, "And for my third question...hmmm...do you want to see me naked? Right now? In case you were wondering, I'm not shy.", that last line was drowned in tones of intended menace which Damon wanted to be known.

Alaric shook his head and took another drink of his rum, avoiding making eye contact with the vampire. He knew that if he did, Damon would just do that bug-eye thing he did, and that would make Alaric do...something. He didn't quite know, but if he kept drinking this cheap alcohol, things would get awkward. The glass fell and spilled out onto the carpet as Alaric was swiftly pinned to his bed.

He wriggled his shoulders for a second, trying to comprehend the situation. Had he pissed off the vampire with his question, or had he provoked him into acting on the answer to it? Alaric didn't realize how quickly such a crappy brand of rum could affect him, or that the sudden jump in pulse didn't have to do with fear entirely.

He breathed easier as Damon sat up, though the position hadn't been something he hated. And he hoped to whatever god might be out there that Damon didn't question him on it. Alaric leaned up on his elbows again, narrowing his eyes, which seemed to swim just a bit. The previous question had certainly made him think, and the addition of alcohol had made him more than just think, taking him as far as imagining it. And damn his apparent inability to lie at all, especially with a buzz.

"I...sort of do. Yes." He groaned, somehow knowing where this whole thing was being taken, and he was going to be swept up with it all. "My question now. Were you wanting to see my dick? And in case you were wondering, I am shy." After all, it was a question and answer game, not show and tell.

A somewhat odd flurry of expressions filibustered and pushed through Damon's face now as he fixated his attentions to Alaric with alarming intensity; varying within fractions of a second, aroused in one instance and punishing the next, some were even foolish. This human was so deliciously truthful, even if he had the luxury of telling an undetected lie. How willing he was to part with an embarrassing truth, even if it meant severe discomfort on his part and exposing himself to likely torment at the hands of one who was keen to do so; it was music to the ears of a vampire such as Damon, who lived to corrupt and devour innocence. Alaric might not have known it, but by simply being, he had tempted the Devil himself.

The vampire had to admire the way in which Alaric made embarrassing admission of shyness to exposing himself physically, and somehow managing to lilt it into a joke. An unintentional admission too, perhaps, that he was willing to go through with it if Damon's whim took fancy. "Now, now Ric...you're going to get yourself in trouble saying things like that.", Damon bit his bottom lip, clearly feeling tickled and playful in light of the situation, giving proof to the fact that the undead could salivate.

"First, back to your answer.", Damon quickly ripped open his shirt and threw it from his arms in no time at all, and he hadn't even used his vampire speed to do so; he'd had plenty of time to master the art of effectively undressing after all. He leaned forward a little so his face was more so above Alaric's though still safely distant, "You want to see more? First you have to ask...then you have to undress me yourself. Feeling feisty Ric?", the eye thing again; fuck, why did he have to do that?

Alaric was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the position, and with Damon's constant look on him. The expression on his face was mostly unreadable, but Alaric could tell that there were some slightly naughty thoughts going on behind those eyes. But then, Damon always did look like he was up to something. That may have been because the vampire always was, in some way or other.

He sneered slightly at Damon's joke, but couldn't bring himself to care enough to try pushing the vampire off him. Though he wondered if that wasn't just self-preservation kicking in. Alaric blinked, though not in surprise, as Damon removed his shirt, clearly the one who always wanted to show off. That was just the sort of thing he did. More surprising to the pseudo-hunter was that he actually admired Damon's form. Had to be the alcohol making him think those things, right?

"Can't say I'm not curious about it," he finally shrugged, his eyes searching quickly over the vampire's body. Well, he already had one foot in the door, and clearly Damon was wanting to play this game; it was too tiring to constantly resist his whims. "Fine. But I won't be joining you." Alaric hesitated a moment, his hands hovering a few inches above the bed at his sides before tentatively undoing the fastenings to Damon's pants. What the hell was he doing, undressing a vampire infamous for his sheer will and ability to twist any situation the way he wanted? Alaric knew he'd be kicking himself all the way to Mexico tomorrow because of this.

"Won't be joining me? And how many drinks is it now, after swearing you'd only have one...which, technically came after saying you wouldn't even have one.", Damon grimaced in a look of retarded pleasure before exhaling a quick bout of toneless laughter, the coyness of Alaric's unfastening of his pants simply too enjoyable to resist, "That's OK Ric, you can keep it in your pants if you really want to. By the way, my fangs are up here, not down there. My dick doesn't bite. No need to be so gentle.", Damon playfully mocked the hesitant pace of Alaric's hands, unsympathetic to how nervous the human might have been. Human sentiment was so futile and irrelevant; Damon want, Damon have. Why couldn't they just follow suit?

The vampire's dark smile only grew darker and wider as he heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down to completion, and his gaze refused to break away from Alaric's own eyes no matter the pleas being screamed from every cell of the other man's body. "You're cute when you're flustered. Just think what Jenna would say about this...and Stefan...and Elena. Then again don't...mostly because they really don't matter. I mean like at all.", his words were not so much spoken now, as they were dripped.

"You sure? The way some people avoid you it sure seems like it does." Alaric frowned and pulled at the waist band of the pants, not getting them much further than the top of Damon's thighs. "You breathe one word of this and I will drive a stake through your heart," he grimaced, and brought his arms up to fold across his chest. "This little trip we took did not involve strippers, stealing road signs, or my undressing you. At all. We good?"

Alaric would have been more effective in avoiding Damon's gaze if he hadn't gotten caught in it. It was one of those looks that you couldn't look away from, for some reason. "And besides...I can't undress you if you're on top of me like this." Hopefully Damon would get off so Alaric could just give some praise to his penis and then go to sleep. The night had gone too far for him, and he was eager to see it finished.

"Ooo, touché Mr. Saltzman. See, this is why I like you when you drink. Much better comebacks. Kudos.", Damon continued to speak as though nothing of note was unfolding. Even if he was enjoying current events, he was without the view that any of this was controversial or daring in the slightest; he just liked the way it made Alaric look, and the aroma of raw excitement it caused to pour forth from his flesh. His mouth twinged to settle at an uneven grin, which looked both handsome and infantile, "We're good, but let's not pretend you'd ever stand a chance.", all the compressed air weapons in the world wouldn't help Alaric be rid of Damon; besides, he wanted to stick around, and he was the sort of parasite that once under the skin, never truly left.

Suddenly and with no prompting, Damon sighed hard, though it sounded like a nasty little chuckle. Following that, he stretched out a leg to one side and placed one foot on the floor, gaining balance enough to bring the other leg around from Alaric's thigh and stand comfortably at the side of the human's bed. He shook his head side to side while smiling and whispering a breeze of laughter again, one hand at the back of his neck, "Fun playing with you Saltzman.", he said, pulling up his waistband, "Now sleep tight, and don't let the vam...I mean…bedbugs bite.", he finished sarcastically with a sense of impish expression that was way less sinister than he in fact was. Maybe Alaric hadn't seized the moment soon enough, or maybe Damon had only been playing with him all along.

Either way, Damon had had his fun, and he made no effort to disguise the fact that he'd like more in the same vein, but not tonight. Alaric would have to be a little less rigid next time, if he was even ready to admit he wanted much the same, and liked it just as much; unconventional male bonding, undesignated intentions, and a whole lot of Damonism.

Alaric sat up, still trying to convince himself that he didn't enjoy the way Damon toyed with him just a little bit. "Well fair enough; you killed me in round one." Round two wasn't seeming like it'd ever happen, although whatever this was that they were doing may have been close enough to it. Alaric swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting slightly hunched, if a bit confused.

"That's it?" He wasn't complaining about the apparent change of heart; or was he? Alaric tilted his head and looked Damon over, as if the answer would be written somewhere on him. "That banter was a little too light to come from you, wasn't it?" Pushing his luck, maybe. Alaric bent forward to pick up the dropped glass from earlier, setting it on the table. "Besides, you never answered my last question." He couldn't help being just a bit curious about whether or not Damon had wanted to see the penis he'd asked about earlier.

Damon lay in bed now, slipping his pants off under the covers, liking the fact that such an act was denied to the sights of Alaric who so obviously wished for the opposite, even if he'd never admit it. The vampire was a firm believer of the concept; bite to cause and itch, have them scratch the itch and make it itch even more. Eyes closed and head facing directly upwards to the ceiling above, Damon did not see fit to open them as Alaric spoke to him in curious conversation, soft, elusive curl plucking the corners of his wicked mouth.

"I have my lighter moments, and you had your chance. Moment's passed, and now I'm sleepy.", Damon tickled himself with his own crafty cunning as he toyed with the thought that Alaric was left wanting more. Just as well; what would Alaric really have done if things had gone any further. He could cut loose at times, but he really wasn't ready for that sort of action. Still, in a different mood, Damon wouldn't give a shit.

"If you really want to whip it out, go ahead Ric, but I'm not opening my eyes. Night.", he played a tricky game, but in the end, short of a measure of self-respect, no one ever really lost did they?

Something wasn't right, but he couldn't figure out what it might be. Alaric knew that Damon was a tricky, manipulative bastard who only started things to see them end in favour of himself. It had hardly been an hour in the motel room, and Damon was going to sleep. He remained at the edge of his bed, watching the vampire's every move. Alaric refused to react as Damon removed his pants just beyond his sight. He shook his head and gave up on trying to decipher the game, at least for tonight. Alaric stood and crossed the room to his bag, grabbing his flannel pyjama bottoms from it.

He considered changing in the bathroom, but what would that be short of admission to want to keep away from Damon's piercing gaze? He changed at the foot of his own bed instead, leaving on his grey tee from the day's travelling. Still troubled by Damon's sudden bored demeanour, he broke his own recent giving up on translating things. Alaric walked between the beds, leaning one hand on the table and looking down at Damon. "What do you want? Me to confess some sort of undying lust for you, rip the covers off your body and beg for your touch?" Seemed in the general idea of the game, maybe.

"Oh you're still up? And you were so tired before.", Damon smirked to himself, looking like a sleepy little angel that just won the war in Heaven. He was just taunting Alaric shamelessly now, and he was so good at it; two facts nobody present was unaware of, "Everyone wants me, it's just a matter of who gets me. You? Tonight? That ship has sailed. Feel free to relieve yourself though, so long as you keep the noise down. I've got a lot of driving to do tomorrow.", that cunty smidge of a smile didn't budge, as if it were set in the porcelain of Damon's perfect face; it looked like he might even fall asleep wearing it.

Damon was just trying to get to him, and Alaric knew it. Knowing was half the battle normally, but it helped if the one getting the knowledge used it to their advantage. But still, Alaric had been drinking, and he was now very perplexed as to just what Damon was doing. "You keep me up for two nights straight and expect me to just let you sleep? You don't even need it."

He sat on Damon's bed with a slight huff, just looking at him. "Your mood changes so fast these days, how am I supposed to trust that you won't be over on my side feeling me up in three hours?"

"You can't. But then, you're the one on my bed when all I'm doing is trying to sleep.", Damon's every expression remained the same as before, in a way that seemed at least a little visually surreal. Unfortunately, the constant look was one as adorable as it was an instigator of desire.

"You're a dick," he said after a few moments of silence. Alaric was feeling a little left out, though he didn't want to admit it. He stood to slide into his own bed, stopping before he did. Damon's glass was still full, so Alaric drank the rest in one gulp, after which he punched the vampire right in that fucking smug face of his. Then he felt well enough to try and sleep.

Damon jerked around a little in his bed, as if he was enjoying the fact that someone had just snuggled him in, "Night handsome.", and that was the end of that; at least until morning.

THE END