A/N: Set sometime in the middle of season 2. Damon and Elena's relationship through Stefan's eyes. I hope you like it!
Three to Tango
Stefan had seen the change in his brother with his own eyes. At the last Founder's Party his brother had been a completely different 'person'. After decades hoping he'd find his humanity, the moment Stefan had given up on him he had started to change. But apparently he'd never mature enough to take care of problems the way he was supposed to. Just a threat had been enough to convince the deciduous-fanged vampire to leave town. Damon, of course, would have killed the newborn and Stefan was too righteous to let him.
As he walked back towards the Lockwood's arranged dancefloor he saw Damon compelling the DJ to change the music. He couldn't help feeling like the big brother. Damon was like a little kid unable to stand still. The tango music started and his brother raised his hand to Elena.
"Would you dance with me?" Only he could see the insecurity he so well hid under his arrogant mask. She hesitated, of course, the what-are-you-up-to look on her face. "Come on, 'Lena! It's just a dance," he reassured her and she accepted.
Stefan trusted Elena completely. He knew she loved him. He heard those three heavenly words every day and he felt them with every touch of her delicate hands and every kiss of her tender lips.
It was Damon he didn't trust. And he holding her so close wasn't exactly his favorite view. Just a dance, Stefan. No need to be jealous, he told himself.
"I don't know how to dance to this, Damon," she complained, barely moving her feet.
"Relax," he replied. "Just feel the music."
Their movements were slow but synchronized as they familiarized with each others' steps. Damon led confidently while Elena's shyness slowly faded and her hips sensually swayed from side to side.
They were so wrapped up in their dance they didn't notice him passing by. Now that annoyed him. He went to the bar and ordered a glass of bourbon, the suppressed jealousy slowly emerging to the surface. There's nothing to worry about, he told himself. Elena was his and there was nothing Damon could do about it. It was just an innocent dance. That was the closest he'd ever get to Elena.
But God Damnit! That was too fucking close!
As Elena got used to the rhythm her movements became more confident and her feet gently caressed Damon's calves as they made their way across the dancefloor. He spun her around, her chocolate waves spreading in the air. She was feeling sexy, it was written all over her. Why did Damon and not him make her feel that way? They had a passionate relationship!
Didn't they?
He looked suspiciously at Damon's hand while it made its way a little further down her back. He pressed her against his body and he jumped from his seat. That was enough!
She pulled away from him and a satisfied grin spread over Stefan's face. They could never get along. He'd always screwed up something. She could never fall for his arrogant, volatile brother. Not after everything he'd done. She wouldn't let herself.
But she didn't stop dancing. Why the hell didn't she? He sunk on the stool and every cell of his body filled with indignation.
Her body swayed to the music teasingly with surprising expertise, close enough to make him chase after her but always out of reach. She was punishing him for his impulsiveness, reminding him what he couldn't have. And he played along, he chased after her until she finally gave in and let him lead again.
The other couples gradually left Damon and Elena more and more room as they ruled the dancefloor. And they didn't even notice, too immersed in their own ephemeral little world.
They look like a fucking couple, Stefan thought, anger and jealousy running through his veins. But Elena would never do something like that to him. She would never betray him, Stefan assured himself. Even if she had feelings for his brother she would never act on them. Damon wasn't relationship material, he'd hurt her. Damon knew it and Elena knew it. They could never be happy together. They were just incompatible.
No matter what Stefan told himself, though, when his gaze landed back on his girlfriend wrapped in his brother's arms like that he wasn't sure about anything anymore. He watched them spinning frenetically, intertwining their feet in a messy battle for dominance. They fought against each other, for each other.
The passion they radiated was excruciating. And he needed more alcohol. He didn't even remember seeing Elena this confident and charismatic before. To sink him even deeper into his misery Elena shifted her hips outwards and sat Damon's bent leg. Supporting her weight with one leg she lifted the other impossibly high. He ran his fingers down her thigh, while their lips were not even an inch apart. That felt like a punch in the gut. Followed by a thousand more.
Since when was she that flexible by the way? Wasn't he supposed to know Elena's body to perfection? Stefan shot his brother his most lethal glare to which Damon replied with his most annoying smirk. The urge Stefan felt to disembowel his brother was barely controllable. He fantasized about ripping his limbs one by one. Which one would he start with?
But when he looked at Damon again his smirk had been replaced by a bitter smile. He knew Elena wasn't his. Then for a moment, a fraction of a second, Stefan put himself in his brother's shoes. No matter how close he was to Elena she'd never be entirely his.
After what felt like ages the song was over and they stepped out of the dancefloor. Elena's cheeks turned bright red when she met his eyes. She sent him a shy smile and walked towards him, followed by Damon. She gave him a quick chaste kiss. He felt nothing but cold and emotionless routine in the gesture.
"Quite the spectacle," he commented, sarcasm dripping from his words. Elena's cheeks turned even redder if possible.
"Don't worry," Damon replied patting him on the shoulder. "She's all yours," he added and disappeared into the crowd.
She's probably mine, but not all of her, he thought bitterly. She sat awkwardly beside him and even though they were practically touching she had never seemed so far away.
Their dance wasn't over. On the contrary, it was just beginning. And all he could do was watch while she slowly slipped away from him until one day he'd have lost her.