Title: Stripped
Author: Claddagh Ring
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or anything recognizable in this story.
Dedication: Leslie, Kate, Jenny, Kelly, Eline, Shelby at the CW Boards– this is for you, because I love you. Merry Christmas!
AN: This would probably take place anytime after "Memory Lane" and before Stefan and Elena's real break-up at the end of "Plan B"
PLEASE REVIEW because "I'm basically an insecure, neurotic control freak... on crack."
It was a Tuesday; ordinary, unassuming, nothing special.
Except it was a rare day; one of those days where everything just falls away. There was no imminent danger to fend off, no worry that something or someone might be after them, no fear that they would not live to see the night fall. There hadn't been a day like this since the vampires had been released from the tomb, not since his blood lust nearly consumed him, especially not since the arrival of Katherine and her relentless wake of destruction. Her dark threat still loomed over their heads but to Stefan and Elena, on this wholly unremarkable Tuesday, it felt more like a distant storm.
It was an unexpected surprise when she appeared on his doorstep after school. After all, they had broken up as far as the rest of the world was concerned. It was torture – pure and simple torture – to have to pretend like he didn't miss the way her hand felt in his own, like he didn't need her laughter to get him through the day, like he wasn't empty when she wasn't near.
But all the tension and frustration he'd built up over the day washed away the moment Elena smiled in that brilliant, beautiful way he liked to believe was only for him. As soon as the door was closed, he had her in his arms, holding her as closely as he could to make up for all the times he'd had to ignore her in public. Her hands smoothed through his hair, soothing in their touch as they worked their way down to cradle his face. Her lips found his, starved for attention.
They stayed like that for an eternity it seemed, holding tight, savoring each touch, each kiss, each little brush of contact their skin made, and the spark that he hid safely inside of him ignited. She was the only one who could bring that fire out of him. It danced in unadulterated passion, and soared through his body. It was uncontrollable. Inevitable. With one look at her flushed cheeks, there was no doubt in his mind that she felt it to.
They clumsily made their way down the hallway, knocking over who cares what until Stefan felt his back pressed against the soft leather of the couch. Elena nestled her body between his legs, her warm hands planted firmly on his chest. Her hair fell around him, a dark curtain cutting him off from the rest of reality, until the only light in existence came from the bright sheen of her eyes. In that moment, he was his world.
"Hi," she laughed as she caught her breath. She tucked her falling hair behind her ear and he could only smile as he drank her in. So light and warm, the kind of warmth that spreads through you in such a way not even the sun can match.
"Hi," he repeated, propping himself up on his elbows and captured her lips in a brief kiss. When he decided one wasn't enough, he reached up again, but Elena beat him to it, pushing him back down into the couch. It felt so natural, the way their bodies locked together so seamlessly.
"I feel like I'm making this too easy for you," Elena giggled as Stefan's hand circled around her waist, slipping past the thin layer of her shirt. His nimble fingers tickled her skin as they glided up her back, dancing across her ribs until they came back down, settling on her lower back.
"Oh, I hope you do," Stefan smirked, and with one swift motion, he had Elena pressed against the couch, trapped underneath him.
"Well, since you put it that way," she whispered, the sound low in her throat as he kissed his way down her neck, "you're going to have to work for it."
She was faster than Stefan ever gave her credit for, he had to admit as she rolled out from underneath him and off the couch before he realized she had moved. He sat still, watching her as she made her way around the back of the couch. He felt her hands on his neck, running down to his shoulders, sending sparks of electricity shooting down his spine. He tilted his head back and was greeted with a devilish grin.
Elena leaned forward, trapping the tip of his ear in her teeth as she spoke, "You're going to have to..." but it was nearly impossible to concentrate with her mouth on his skin. "Catch me," she said suddenly and the hands that once rested so innocently on his shoulders pushed him forward onto the floor. His confusion only lasted a moment when he heard Elena take off running, her boots loud against the hard wood. But as quick as she could be, he was even faster. He was waiting for her as she turned the corner of the hallway, catching her around the waist, laughing when she shrieked in surprise.
"Easy," he said, setting her back on the ground.
"No, you can't use your vampire skills." Elena was trying to sound stern, but she couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her face. Her hands went to her jacket and she slowly peeled the fabric away from her shoulders, one sleeve at a time, She could feel Stefan's unwavering gaze as she slowly stripped the leather away from her body and decided to take extra care to make sure the straps of her camisole fell down her arms. "Because if you get to use those," she continued, throwing the jacket at Stefan's feet. "I'll be naked before you even lose your shoes."
"I don't have a problem with that," Stefan said as he watched Elena calmly walk away, glancing over her shoulder; taunting him, teasing him, playing with him. With a wicked grin, she started running as fast as she could. He let her reach the foot of the staircase before he started running after her, following her delighted laughter through the spacious house.
It wasn't long before the house was reduced to a state of disarray. Books were knocked off the shelves, the crystal drinking glasses were lying on their sides, threatening to roll off the table and shatter. Paintings and pictures hung at odd angles and the rugs were bunched up in random spots. In every room, there seemed to be some random article of clothing and it was clear that Stefan had to advantage, vampire or no. He was fast, even without his enhanced speed and he knew every nook and cranny of the house, making any hiding spot only a temporary reprieve.
After she found herself forfeiting her jacket, socks, and shoes while Stefan had yet to even lose his belt, Elena insisted that jewelry – her vervain necklace and his daylight ring withstanding - counted as an item. But even with her made-up rule, all she was left with was her jeans and camisole, while Stefan's only concern were that his bare feet might get cold.
"I'll have that shirt now, Miss Gilbert," she gasped as Stefan's deep, rich voice whispered right in her ear. She spun around in surprise only to be caught, once again, in his waiting arms. He was so close and she still hadn't heard him coming.
His hands slide down her sides, tracing every subtle dip and curve on the way down. For every moment his cool skin was on her bare flesh, the temperature in the room rose until Elena was positive she would explode from the heat, only to find she wanted more, needed more. Finally, he reached the hem of her shirt, but instead of stopping as she expected him to, he grasped her hips and hoisted her into the air. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her into wall. His mouth was on her skin in an instant and he created a path just for him down her neck. His tongue slid down to her collarbone, teasing in such a way that Elena couldn't stifle the moan that escaped from her mouth. It was a perverse mixture of hard and soft, designed to drive her mad – the way he nipped just right at her sensitive nerves, only to soothe it away with his swollen lips and supple tongue.
It was a cruel, cruel perfection, she thought vaguely as his fingers danced across her stomach, slowly but surely gathering the soft cotton of her shirt. It was rising, higher and higher, in rhythm with his kisses, only to come to a sudden halting stop just under her bra. It was then she realized how much she ached for his touch. He had stolen her very breath from her chest and only his hands could return it to her.
In one quick, fluid movement, he whipped the shirt over her head, unwrapped her legs from his body and released her. She was stunned by the sudden loss in contact. For a moment, his abrupt manners didn't make since to her, until she realized she was clad only in her jeans and bright red bra. And he was still – still – fully clothed. She was losing. This torture was his way of reminding her.
She was going to have to play dirty.
"I'm not so sure red's my color" Elena said with a sigh, picking at the slender ribbon that lined the cup of her bra, her fingers lingering over the soft swell that spilled over the red lace. "What do you think?"
Her words had the desired effect as Stefan's focus dropped to where her hand still rested on her breast. She just had to wait for the right moment when she was sure his guard was completely down. She watched his eyes cloud over with lust, drinking her in. There was a visible catch in his throat as he tried to swallow, to make some comment, but he was struck speechless.
There was nothing more beautiful in the world, he thought. He flushed cheeks, her hair a disaster, and that bright red against her skin... it was criminal. His pants began to feel like they were too tight, too constricting and there was nothing more he wanted than to press her against that wall again and this time, there would be no letting go. Not until he spent some time convincing her that red was most definitely her color.
She lunged towards him. If he had blinked, he would have missed it. Instead, without thinking, he found himself at the top of the stairs, gasping for the air he really didn't need. He nearly laughed at her outraged expression when she figured out where he was and bounded clumsily up the stairs.
"You're cheating!" she said, pointing accusingly at him.
"You surprised me," Stefan argued. "You were teasing me. It's hardly fair."
"You did the same thing to me," Elena insisted.
"I would never," Stefan vowed, placing his hand over his heart. But Elena wasn't buying it and there was no way she was letting him get away with this.
"That's it," she said, holding her hand out. "Pants. Off. Now."
"Isn't the shirt next?" Stefan teased,
Elena paused for a moment. It seemed like that would be fair, after all she was still running around in her jeans, but... but she caught him cheating! No, he wasn't talking his way out of this one. "It would be if you were playing by the rules," she stated so matter-of-factly, he wouldn't dare argue with her. "Take them off Salvatore."
She couldn't help but gulp when he snapped the button free from his jeans and slid them down his hips. His black boxer briefs made no attempt to hide anything; not the perfect curve of his ass, the strong muscles in his thighs, the dip of his pelvis... it was all so very obvious, and Elena was practically salivating. It was like she was back on that wall downstairs, hungering for his touch, needing to feel him against her.
Stefan placed the denim her hands and it was all she could do to tear her eyes away from him. "Thank you," she somehow managed to choke out and draped the jeans over the banister. She gripped the dark wood in her fist, anything to steady her nerves, but it wasn't helping.
"Screw this," Stefan breathed and before she could even process his words, she found herself lying with her back flat against his bed. She didn't even catch her breath before pressing her lips to his. The kiss was so deep, Elena could swear she felt it sear into her very soul. It was like the room was suffocating and the only source of air was Stefan. She clawed at his shirt, greedy for the feel of his skin against hers. She needed it, his air wasn't enough; she needed his whole life just to survive.
"I never caught you," Elena said as he flung his shirt to the side. There was a brief pause and she suddenly felt self-conscious. What a stupid thing to say, she thought.
"You never had to," Stefan whispered. "You always had me."
And that was it, the last piece to fall into place. There was no going back from there. Clothes fell away as they fell into each other, skin for skin, lips for lips, touch for touch. Over and over again; falling off the edge, climbing back up and crashing again until there was no strength left between them. If they died right then, there would be no regrets.
But the hours passed and the sun set outside, reminding them of the world outside, the one that forced them apart in the first place, the one that wanted one, if not both of them dead.
"I have to get home," Elena sighed into his chest. Despite the mumble of agreement, he made no effort to let her go and she couldn't find the will to move unless he did. They didn't get to have moment like this anymore. They didn't get to be happy, completely satiated, or in love. It was this she missed most of all, not the sex, not the physical memories, but the undeniable love they shared. It was still there, the undercurrent to everything they are: every word they said, every choice they made, everything.
"I wish you didn't have to go," Stefan said.. Running his fingers through her hair, he kissed her forehead once and just like that, their little glass house cracked. He sat up and reached for his shirt, and a sadness returned to his features as he said, "but I know you have to."
Elena couldn't help herself. She needed the moment to be just a little longer. Just enough to sustain her through the night, to keep her warm as she slept alone. She didn't want to think of him sitting sadly in his room after the left, she needed him to be happy. To smile that smile that made the night sigh, the one she swore was only for her. She grabbed the shirt from his hands and jumped out of the bed.
"I need that," Stefan laughed as Elena sauntered across the room, holding the shirt behind her back.
"Well I can't exactly walk into my house without a top on," Elena giggled as she carefully dodged Stefan's attempts to retrieve his clothes from her tightly clenched fist.
"Hey, you're the one who left your shirt downstairs," Stefan teased.
"I'm not the one who took it off," Elena countered and she twisted away from Stefan's searching hands and ran swiftly back towards the bed but before she could reach it, Stefan had her trapped in his embrace again. She could feel his wide, gorgeous smile spread across his lips as he kissed the back of her head. It was enough to make her knees shake and she circled around to face him.
His eyes, evergreen, could hold her prisoner for eternity as long as they continued to shine so brightly. She placed her hands on his stomach, fingernails tracing the lines of his abs, and she stood on the every tip of her toes to reach him. His lips, soft as ever, moved gently against hers and she could feel her soul take flight. There was no doubt in her mind; this was how she was going to spend forever.
I repeat: PLEASE REVIEW because "I'm basically an insecure, neurotic control freak... on crack."