(A/N) Hey everyone! I couldn't resist posting another story. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it - probably because I'm British and it's easier to write for Klaus in that aspect.

So, leave reviews with your thoughts, what you liked, thought I could improve on (for future stories) and if I portrayed the characters okay. Oh, and well done to anyone who can catch the subtle nod to Fifty Shades of Grey, I haven't read the book, so it didn't inspire the sex scene or anything, just a phrase I used.

Thanks, and enjoy! :)

~ooOOoo~

"You can't do this anymore Damon!" Elena yelled from the entrance to the council's meeting place, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Damon didn't know why she looked like that, and he didn't really care in this precise moment. He should have snapped Bill's neck, then he could have left, and Caroline wouldn't have - he let her - kicked his ass. "Not in this town, not around me!" Elena's voice sounded like nails down a chalkboard, and was grating on Damon's ears like the grinding of rusty cogs. She had no business ordering him around like that.

"Why not?" Damon pushed himself up from where he'd been slouched against the wall, not bothering to wipe Bill's blood trail from his chin, "nothing I haven't done before. Why is it suddenly so important for everyone to keep me in check?" he asked Elena, who was staring at him accusingly.

"Because I don't want you to be what other people think that you are!" Elena was almost yelling at him.

"What? A monster?!" Damon asked incredulously, well aware his voice was raising octaves with each syllable, "sorry to disappoint you Elena, but last time I checked, I was still a vampire!" he growled at her.

"Yes, I just wish that you didn't have to act like one!" Elena yelled, staring him down. Damon knew what she meant by that, she wanted a substitute Stefan until the real thing returned from the abyss of ripper-dom and re-kindle their relationship which he had shattered into a million pieces.

It made Damon's blood boil that Elena thought she could tell him to stop being a vampire, and act human like Stefan. He was done trying to be the 'better man' for her because it was getting her nowhere. Elena was making it pretty clear she'd only love him if he was like Stefan, and quite frankly, he was fed up of Elena stringing him along. He'd found out from Tyler that Elena only kissed him because she thought he was going to die.

"I am not Stefan!" Damon yelled, the sound bouncing off of the walls and darting into Elena's ears. Her face contorted into a look of shock and horror at those four words, and it only infuriated Damon further. He couldn't believe that Elena thought she could change him with a look into those big brown doe eyes which looked so innocent when she willed them to be, or that when she didn't like hearing something, she tried to brush it off like it was nothing.

"How about you stop trying to turn me into him!" he spat at her, storming past her without another word.

Damon trudged into the grill, and slid into his usual bar stool, the memory of only a few hours ago weighing heavily on his shoulders. To any spectator, especially the keen-eyed women - or the occasionally man - wanting a go with him, he looked calm and collected, like a normal person. Except inside, Damon was seething with anger. Elena had absolutely no right to be her self-righteous self on him. and tell him to stop revelling in his true nature.

It's just because her precious Stefan isn't here to be the 'good guy', Damon thought bitterly, so she has to turn to me.

Elena was really beginning to get on Damon's nerves lately. Yesterday in Chicago, when Damon came back with Stefan's location - and a very nice and expensive dress for her to wear - she was dwelling in the moment when she was almost discovered by Klaus, and that had happened a few hours ago, yet she was being all whiny about it, instead of being grateful or happy that they'd gotten a lead on Stefan. Damon knew she wanted him to comfort her like Stefan would have done, but he was done from being everybody's second choice.

He was his Dad's second, Katherine's second, who she never even loved and was just using as a tidbit on the side, and he was Elena's second too. Not relationship-wise, but Damon couldn't help but feel she was just using him as a substitute Stefan until the real thing came prancing back into Mystic Falls, completely free of human blood like she wanted.

And that was another thing, why was everyone - him included - tripping over their own feet to save her life? It was getting incredibly annoying, and as much as Damon wouldn't say it out loud, it was Elena's fault most of the people around her died. Jenna was dead because she couldn't bear to lose a best friend, she was so selfish that she had to save a best friend over the only parent she had left. If Damon ever had a choice like that, he'd pick his mother over his best friend in a heartbeat.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" the barman's voice ripped Damon from his thoughts, "you've been sat there for almost five minutes."

"Bourbon. Neat," Damon ordered, but as the man turned to grab a crystal tumbler off the shelf behind him - which was chock full of all kinds of exotic drinks - he spoke again, "Actually, on second thought, bring me the bottle." He was not in a good mood, and if he was going to be rainbows and sunshine in front of Elena tomorrow, and she doesn't bother apologising, he would need the entire bottle. The amount of times Elena had pushed him too far, and he hadn't wound up snapping her neck out of annoyance and with a burning desire to make her shut up, was beyond him.

"Rough night?" the man asked him, placing the glass back in its original spot.

"You could say that," Damon deflected, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Here you go," A crystal bottle of rich, amber liquid rolled his way, and Damon felt just a little bit better, not by much. He was getting ordered around by a human girl, who wanted a vampire to stop acting like one. It would be a miracle if he didn't kill anyone tonight.

His fingers were inching closer to the glass stopper of the decanter, when a silky, smooth voice distracted him. Damon knew that British accent anywhere.

"Damon?" Klaus greeted him as if they were friends who hadn't seen each other in months, when really they were mortal enemies, "fancy seeing you here."

"I should be saying that," Damon turned his head to look at Klaus, his ice-gray eyes peering at him with curiosity and interest, "thought you were still in Chicago?"

"Well, it turns out I can't make hybrids because Elena's still alive." In that sentence, Damon knew the conversation would take a darker turn. How did Klaus know Elena was still alive anyway? Stefan wouldn't have sold her out, would he? Damon thought for a moment, Stefan's bunny diet didn't give him the slight immunity to ingesting light vervain like Damon could, so he realised Klaus could have compelled it out of him, or used some other way.

"Care to explain?" Klaus' angry yet calm tone asked him.

"Okay, but don't kill me," Damon put both his hands up in surrender.

"No promises." Klaus was blunt in his answer.

"Mean," Damon flashed a cheeky-looking grin towards the hybrid, "anyway, Elena was on a martyr tear when you showed up for the sacrifice, and Bonnie did a spell which linked her life force to Daddy Gilbert. So when she died, something... magical happened, and poof! There she was all human and still hating me for feeding her my blood," he finished, images of the day he'd almost lost Elena clouded his mind, but he instantly snuffed them out like a raging fire. He did not want to think about her tonight.

"How much have you had to drink Damon?" Klaus teased him, and Damon was now very aware he'd sounded like a drunken man while explaining Elena's living state to Klaus.

"Hey," Damon narrowed his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore the fact that Klaus could rip his heart from his chest without blinking, "nothing yet."

"What's got you down then, mate?" Klaus asked. Damon had never noticed it before, but Klaus' British accent suited him perfectly, sounding like silvery notes. It seemed to contrast with the dark clothes he usually sported, his ice-gray eyes which occasionally had some people debating over their true color, or his blond hair that just- Damon! he snapped mentally at himself, stop fangirling over Klaus!

"I'm not drunk enough to be on civil enough terms with you yet," Damon brought himself back in the conversation, and dragged the bottle by its neck from the sleek surface of the bar. "Do you wanna do the honours?" he held it in front of Klaus, who took the bottle from him with a light smile and elevator eyes, pulling the top off. He took a short drink, and placed it between him and Damon.

"It's Elena, in case you're interested." He said to Klaus.

"Hm. It seems both our problems are revolving around the Doppelganger," Klaus mused, while Damon took a long gulp of the bourbon. It burned his throat on the way down - like proper liquor should, not that weak, fizzy stuff in cans - and chipped a little off of the huge weight on his shoulders.

"I could just have my sister kill her," Klaus' voice tore Damon from his thoughts.

"Sister?!" his eyes widened, and then hooded themselves once a sarcastic remark snaked its way up his throat, "oh great, there's more of you," he smirked, watching Klaus drink some of the bourbon. The amber contents of the glass sliding down his throat. "But as tempting as that sounds, it'd probably bite me in the ass later," Damon grumbled.

"You'd regret it?" Klaus' eyes twinkled with curiosity. Since when's he interested in me? Damon wondered silently.

"After a while," he found his mouth moving and his brain told it to project words into the air without his consent, "but I'm still not drunk enough to go into the argument I had with her, so start spilling your guts while I wreck mine with alcohol," he demanded lightly, gulping down more of the bourbon.

Klaus all but snatched it from him, and drank some. "I already told you, I can't make anymore hybrids."

"Why?" Damon asked, his eyes were beginning to blur, and a familiar weight in his body was beginning to make itself known. He was teetering on the blurred line between being drunk and being sober. But he didn't care, his actions were only influenced in an intoxicated state if someone wound him up. Damon's mind immediately flashed back to the night he'd snapped Jeremy's neck, because Elena had told him it would always be Stefan.

"I love Stefan, it's always gonna be Stefan!" Those words burned in his brain, and Damon felt his heart twinge, before the memory of those words sinking into him came back to him. They had been cruel, and mocked him. They grabbed his heart in a vice-like grip, and dashed it around the room, shattering it like the glass he was holding.

"I've no idea," Klaus ripped Damon from his thoughts, and Damon was thankful, he didn't want to re-hash that old memory, there was only so much hurt a man could take - the thought of Katherine breaking his heart, and then Elena a few moments later. "So Rebekah's in Chicago with Stefan and-" Klaus began, but Damon cut him off.

"You're here," he swallowed another mouthful of bourbon. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked.

"I needed a break from Rebekah's incessant whining about how Stefan doesn't love her anymore. I mean, it's been ninety years since we last saw him, least she could do is give the poor bloke a break. I mean-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Back the truck up," Damon stopped him again, "you knew each other in the twenties?"

"Yes," Klaus nodded, "your brother was the life of the party."

Damon arched an eyebrow, and scoffed in disbelief. "Really? Saint Stefan, was the life of the party?"

Klaus nodded wordlessly, drinking a little from their shared bottle of alcohol. His eyes were becoming blurred, and Damon thought he looked cute. He wouldn't admit it sober, and unless he was drunk when anyone asked him about it, he wouldn't utter a word about it.

"We are on about my little brother, right?" Damon said incredulously.

"Why do you find it so hard to believe he can be fun?" Klaus poked fun at him with a small smile lighting up his smooth, chiseled features.

"Well, I suppose he did smile a lot more around Elena," Damon took the bottle from Klaus, and drank some, practically slamming it on the bar, "but before her, he used to look like that God-awful dude from that movie about the sparkly vampires and the over-sized werewolves who couldn't keep their freakin' shirts on."

"Edward Cullen?" Klaus guessed.

"Don't say his name!" Damon hissed in a hushed whisper, looking around for Matt, who would no doubt find a way to torture a sober him the next day if he overheard any of the conversation between him and the hybrid who he was finding extremely handsome. "And yes, him," he affirmed.

"What's wrong with him?" Klaus asked. Damon almost did a double take. Klaus of all people actually liked that movie? At least with the books, he could rip them up, tear them to shreds or burn them to ashes, but the movie was ingrained into his brain no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. Damon was stuck with images of a vampire who sparkled in the sunlight instead of burned, and a girl with virtually no facial expressions during line deliveries whatsoever.

"Oh no, oh hell no," Damon pointed a finger in Klaus' direction, swearing he saw the corners of the blond man's lips twitch into a smile, "don't tell me you actually like that movie."

"No, personally I think he's an abomination and an insult to the supernatural species," Klaus grimaced, making Damon grin.

"Not to mention a perv," the raven-haired noted, the bottle of bourbon being momentarily forgotten, "he watches that chick sleep for crying out loud. And he's all 'Bella, I love you, but I can't be with you because your blood drives me crazy'," he imitated Edward Cullen in the low voice he'd used to mimic Stefan the first time he arrived in Mystic Falls.

"Oh man, he is like Stefan," Damon mentally face palmed himself once he realised the similarities between the sparkling vampire with the - he would strongly deny it under oath if anyone asked - cool hair, and his bunny eating brother.

"At least Stefan doesn't watch her sleep." Klaus remarked.

Damon chuckled, and a sly smirk crept onto his face. "He did stalk her for a few months before they met."

He turned to the bottle of bourbon, and it was nearly empty. Damon decided to save the dregs, either for himself later, or Klaus. Damon was after something different. He wanted some fresh, human blood, and he knew Klaus wouldn't berate him for it. His eyes scanned the back of the bar, and saw two hands grasping for the empty beer bottle, Damon sluggishly caught it. Even in his intoxicated state, his senses were as sharp as a shard of glass.

He looked up at the barman, and he released the bottle. Damon caught the boy's gaze in his own as he did so. "Hey, bring me and my" - he looked at Klaus, struggling for a word to describe him with - "friend here, your best looking barmaid."

"Coming right up," the boy said robotically, walking off to, what Damon thought, was the backroom. He turned to look at Klaus, who had an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" Damon mentally braced himself for chasiting to began.

"Why did you find it so hard to say I was your friend?" Klaus asked. Whether he was genuinely hurt, Damon couldn't tell.

"Maybe, because you tried to stake me at a bar yesterday?!" he tried to be serious, but a large grin betrayed him.

"Gloria intervened," Klaus grinned back.

"Yeah, she was all," Damon changed his posture and stuck his index finger up. He pointed it in mid-air, like Gloria had done when she set the stake on fire, and began speaking in a higher pitched voice, "not in my bar, you take it outside." He grimaced and rubbed his hands in circular motions on his temples. "Ugh, why are all witches so self-righteous and annoying? Well, Emily was-no, she was just as bad," Damon all but groaned.

"And none of them are worse than my mother," Klaus chipped in.

"Huh?" Damon looked at him quizzically.

"She's the one who placed the hybrid curse on me," Klaus explained, "I wouldn't have been a werewolf if she'd kept her legs closed, but..." his voice trailed off, as if he was unsure of what to say next.

"Huh, my dad was like that, he screwed over everything with a pulse, my mother knew about it, yet she didn't do anything, just sat there like a wallflower," Damon bluntly reminisced about his human years. He never really liked thinking about his father, because he always favoured Stefan over him, even though Damon knew he'd done nothing wrong. He clenched his fist absent-mindedly. Everyone favoured Stefan over him, Elena, Bonnie - although she blamed both brothers for her Grams dying - Caroline, and even Katherine! Just once, Damon wanted to be the one people preferred, or was their first choice.

"What happened to her?" Klaus asked.

"She died of Leukemia," Damon's tone was still blunt, "yours?" he softened it, realising how harsh he was sounding.

"Tore her heart from her chest," Klaus said nonchalantly, like he was talking about getting a new haircut.

"Woah, talk about-" Damon saw the barman finally bring them a barmaid. "Wait, this is your hottest barmaid? She looks like Pink and Lady Gaga threw up on her," he commented. The girl's face was caked under what looked like twenty layers of foundation which was much too dark, and a bright red lipstick was smeared on her lips. If this was what the man thought was their 'best looking' barmaid, he needed to change his gender preferences.

"But, she'll do," Damon dismissed it. He caught the boy's gaze with his once more, and his pupils dilated. "Go away, forget I asked you to do this, and as for you," he turned his head to the girl, "stand still and don't scream," he ordered her, taking a hold of her wrist, dragging it towards his lips. He extended his fangs, and sunk them into the girl's skin. She stiffened under him as he began sucking, but no sound escaped her mouth.

"Mm, blood really does taste good when it's fresh," Damon commented, letting the girl's wrist drop to her side. He wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. "So, why do you want to make more hybrids? And don't try and pull the 'not drunk enough' card, because we've almost drank the whole bottle. Speaking of," he grabbed the bottle of bourbon, and downed the contents that were left.

"I'm lonely."

"What?" Damon almost did a spit-take. He thought his ears were deceiving him - Klaus had just said he was lonely. The big, bad hybrid's weakness, was being lonely? It wasn't like Damon could judge, his weakness was the present day Petrova Doppelganger who was hell-bent on checking his baby brother into vampire rehab, and denying that their kiss, which she initiated, meant nothing to her, and was simply a 'goodbye'.

"Don't make me say it again Damon," Klaus sighed.

"I'll be your friend, as long as you promise to stop stabbing me with cocktail umbrellas," Damon bargained.

"I don't need friends," Klaus said. Damon threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Bullshit," he snorted, "you just said you're lonely, and somehow, I can't picture you surrounded by cats and watching crappy soap dramas," he commented. Klaus turned to look at him with an expression he couldn't pinpoint.

"Now my problem's out of the way, what's yours?" Klaus asked.

Damon breathed out, "Elena was trying to turn me into pre-ripper-Stefan. And she said she wished I didn't have to act like a vampire-"

"That's ridiculous!" Klaus cut in.

"I know!" Damon nodded in agreement, "and I snapped at her and told her that I wasn't Stefan and she should stop trying to turn me into him. But it's not just that though, she knows I'm in love with her, she's just so hopelessly devoted to Stefan that she can't see that I've changed for her."

"You shouldn't have to change for anyone Damon, you're perfect the way you are," Klaus looked at him with a smile.

"How do you know how I really am?" Damon asked. Klaus breezed into Mystic Falls long after the 'animal attacks' had stopped.

"You made headlines back in 1910, remember? The whole continent was in shock over it. You were worse than Stefan, but the blood wasn't controlling you like it controls him. That was you," Klaus' tone held a hint of admiration as he prodded a finger against Damon's shoulder to emphasize his point, and his eyes - which were ninety percent pupil, and ten percent iris - were glittering.

"My finest hour," Damon chuckled. He wasn't going to stop about Elena, he needed to say all this before she pushed him too far again, and Damon knew there would be a next time, so he didn't end up snapping her neck like a twig. "And another thing about Elena, when Tyler bit me and I was dying, he came and apologised for it, and it was very awkward, he said that Elena only kissed me because she thought I was going to die."

"Petrova's are bitches. All of them. The world's better off without them," Klaus spat.

"You met the first one?" Damon asked.

"She screwed me and Elijah over. Then it didn't help my mother used her to turn us into vampires," Klaus stood up from the bar stool, and Damon grasped at thin air a few times, before gripping Klaus' shirt. He didn't want Klaus to leave, not yet.

"No wait, don't go. Please," Damon's free hand grabbed the girl's wrist, and offered it to him, "ugly barmaid?" He tempted him.

"Stop being cute, Salvatore," Klaus sat back on the bar stool, and Damon was grinning like he won the lottery, although he could easily compel the winning ticket owner to hand it over. "Wipe that grin off your face," Klaus demanded softly.

Damon watched with a tilt of his head, as Klaus' hybrid visage appeared. He had never seen it before. The whites of Klaus' eyes were laced with a dark red, but instead of retaining his normal eye color, the irises themselves had turned amber. Veins still framed his eyes, snaking and twisted underneath the thin skin of his face, and four canines - two sat neatly behind the original pair - were visible as Klaus drank his fill.

Damon ran his finger down Klaus' cheek, tracing the veins around his eyes, before swiping at the smear of ruby on his lower lip. Klaus stiffened under his touch, but made no effort to push Damon away from him. The younger vampire knew he was playing with fire, something that could reduce him to ashes in mere seconds, but there was something about Klaus which drew him in, and he wanted him.

"Damon," Klaus whispered. Damon flicked his tongue out and caught the smear of blood, eyeing Klaus seductively.

Damon found himself inching closer and closer towards Klaus, and soon, his lips were encasing his in a gentle kiss. He pulled away for a short breath, and Klaus' lips snared his, bringing him back into the lion's den, pressing their lips closer together with his wrist wrapping around Damon's neck, and his other hand on his lower back. It was dangerous ground and Damon knew that, but he didn't care. For once, if anyone yelled at him for his decisions, he would snap their neck and look the other way, not caring who the neck belonged to.

"Hey, you guys can't do that in here."

The two males reluctantly broke away from their kiss, and slid off the bar stools, holding each other up for support. Damon couldn't help but wonder if it was because they were two men kissing each other, because he'd seen heterosexual couples kiss - and go a lot further - all the time. Society had diminished so much since he was born.

They stumbled out of the building, clutching each other, the cool night air breezing past them. Damon was a little more alert outside than he was he in the Grill, but he was still very, much intoxicated. Intoxicated from his alcohol consumption, and intoxicated by the hybrid who was holding him up. They both had a lot in common, they both killed when they needed to, and very rarely did they let their armour crack, and expose their humanity.

"Do you go to the gym?" Damon slurred absent-mindedly, one flat hand resting on Klaus' stomach muscles.

"Wanna find out?" Klaus was daring him to make the first move.

"Does this look like a face that does?" Damon grinned, gladly accepting the challenge.

He smashed his lips into Klaus', and roughly pushed him back against one of the pillars of brick which kept the Grill standing, hard enough to bring microscopic fragments of the bricks raining down on the pair of them. Damon continued to fiercely kiss him, and he felt Klaus' hands trail up his back, stroking the mess of raven-black hair once they'd found a home there.

Damon's entire body was on fire, he was gasping in air at every opportunity he could. He'd never felt anything like this before in his entire life, not when Elena kissed him when he was dying, or Andie kissed him, or Rose, or even Katherine - who he had been in love with for the past a hundred and forty-five years and thought was his soul mate - it was like huge bolts of electricity were running rampant in his body.

"Damon..." his name fell from Klaus' lips like liquid silver - rare and pleasing to the right person. The younger vampire's heavy breathing melded with Klaus' moans, and he was surprised it hadn't caught anyone's attention.

Damon found himself on his back, the stray larger pieces of flint and gravel dug through Damon's shirt and scraped against his skin as Klaus' hand pressing down on his shoulder. It was like an invisible barrier was preventing him from getting back up - not like in Chicago, where Klaus had just been resting his hand on Damon's shoulder. Damon hated feeling helpless, but there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn't like wrestling with a werewolf, and the fleabag was easily overpowered and had his heart torn out in mere seconds, he was the one being overpowered, and Damon felt extremely twisted for liking it.

He squirmed under Klaus' body, and the hand pressed harder, the unnecessary pressure would have broken Damon's arm if he was human.

"You'll want to stop doing that Damon," a smirk lit up Klaus' face, just as his warning tone graced Damon's ears, "or I might lose every ounce of control I have."

"I'd ask your place or mine, but we already know the answer to that," Damon smirked up at Klaus, who stroked his free hand down the right side of Damon's body, making shiver after shiver crawl over his body.

Damon barely had time to blink before he felt like he was - flying? Cold air tore through his clothes, the fabric rippling about over his skin. He forced his eyes open, and everything was rushing past him in a blur. He knew Klaus was using his super speed - it was amazing. Damon had never really paid attention to it before.

"Woah, now that was fast," he commented, swaying a little on the spot as the world came to an abrupt stop, and Damon and Klaus were stood in front of the boarding house. Damon suddenly chuckled, and Klaus turned to look at him.

"What?"

"I, uh, I locked the front door, and forgot my keys," Damon slurred with a grin, clutching at Klaus' shoulders.

"Don't worry, mate," Klaus grinned back, and his arms encircled Damon's waist.

Damon gasped as Klaus jumped the few hundred feet in the air which was needed to reach his bedroom window. He forced it up, and he and Klaus slipped inside. Damon pulled it shut behind him, and felt Klaus' arms around his waist again. Then he was falling through the air. He landed with a soft thump on his mattress, and Klaus was above him, straddling his waist.

He kissed Damon roughly, and the younger vampire squirmed underneath him as he began to assault Damon's clothing. He laid underneath Klaus, and jumped every time his hands brushed over a sensitive spot. Klaus' drunken state meant that his hands weren't as controlled and precise as they normally would have been, so it was hard for him to find the buttons to Damon's shirt. Klaus gripped the collar, and ripped it open, all the way down the centre, revealing Damon's sculpted chest. Damon shivered as Klaus' hands unbuckled his jeans, but a loud ringing sound distracted them.

"Fuck, really?" Damon cursed, throwing his head back. Whoever was phoning him had really bad timing. He saw Klaus reaching for his phone out of the corner of his eye, Damon waved him off.

"It's my phone, I'll get it," he mumbled. He outstretched his arm, and tried to shift his body, but Klaus' body was straddling his, making it impossible to move. Damon felt every muscle in his arm straining, but he couldn't fill those last few inches between his hand and the bedside table. He slumped back, defeated. "I can't get it."

Klaus chuckled, and picked up the ringing phone, and handed it to Damon.

"What...?" the raven-haired drawled into the phone, not really caring about who was on the other end.

"Damon, it's me, we need to talk," Elena's guilt-ridden voice drifted through the line and into Damon's ears. She was guilty, good to know, but Damon didn't care for once. She shouldn't have tried to change him into Stefan.

"Talk about what Elena?" Damon played oblivious, like she'd done to his feelings for her many times.

"What I said, I didn't mean..."

"Give me the phone," Klaus mouthed to him over Elena's apology which he was slowly zoning out from.

"Alright," Damon muttered, grinning cheekily as Klaus gripped his phone and held it up to his ear, all the while Elena thought she was talking to Damon. Boy is she gonna get a big surprise. And she didn't even need to go down to the woods, Damon chuckled mentally.

"Hello Elena sweetheart, Damon's a little occupied right now, so if you're upset about hurting his feelings, I'm about to make it all better for him," Klaus smirked down at Damon, while he laid underneath him and imagined Elena's eyebrows knotting up in confusion over the phone, "you have a good night, bye now." Klaus promptly ended the call, just as Elena was about to scream something through the phone.

"Thank you," Damon breathed a loud sigh of relief. He saw Klaus taking the battery out of his phone, and snickered. If only he'd done that before Klaus jumped them through the window, they wouldn't have been interrupted.

Small moans drifted out of Damon's mouth as Klaus' lips began attacking the exposed skin of his chest. Damon squirmed again - he was getting more and more built up, and Klaus looked like he was going to take his sweet time in finishing him off, or even bringing him near that point.

He raised his legs slightly, as Klaus began to slid his jeans off. They were discarded with a soft thump, and no sooner had they hit the ground, Klaus peeled Damon's boxers off of his body. He had never felt like this before. As Klaus eyed him, he was sure he would be blushing fifty shades of scarlet, if he was human that was.

Before Klaus could plan anything, Damon rolled them over, using a burst of strength he didn't even know he had. Klaus looked up at him playfully, and Damon began to tear his clothes off. Klaus' eyes twinkled mischievously, looking stomach-turning in the moonlight. No sooner than Damon had gotten Klaus' jeans off, and ripped his shirt open, he found himself pressed into the soft, duck-down mattress, his vampire senses able to feel the little feathers trying to work it's way from the constricting material.

Damon's arms felt too heavy as he swiped them over each other in mid-air, a desperate attempt to grab Klaus' head and draw their lips together, but Klaus was already moving his head south-ward, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses on Damon's pale flesh. It made heat pool in between his legs, and a swimming, swirling sensation boiled up in his stomach. Damon groaned in contentment as the hybrid reached an area he would have never wanted him anywhere near.

"Oh g-" A broken moan escaped Damon's mouth as Klaus kissed his tip, and trailed his tongue along the length in one fluid motion. Damon's entire body was burning from Klaus' touch, and Damon subconsciously found himself wondering if he was Gay, even though he knew it was just a ridiculous term that human's used.

Noises somewhere between moans and screams left Damon's mouth, as Klaus' mouth engulfed him, sucking slowly and torturously. Every muscle in Damon's body was tense and tight, as he tried to bring himself closer to his climax, but Klaus' teasing and iron grip on his thighs prevented him from doing so.

He squirmed as Klaus retracted his head, kissing his length again. It was pure torture, now Damon knew how a woman felt when he teased her, but now he was experiencing it, he might not do it as much. The new sensation Klaus was bringing him was exciting, pleasurable, and slightly humiliating all at the same time. Klaus had reduced him to a begging, writhing mass in less than a few minutes.

"This feels so good," Damon moaned - a deep-throated sound straight from his core - as Klaus claimed him again, thankfully choosing not to tease him, unless he was going to take a leaf out of Damon's book, and stop once he was a few seconds away from his climax. If he did that, Damon would find a way to render him in a world of pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut and writhed in Klaus' grip and under his body as he brought him closer and closer to the proverbial edge. Damon's arms were up by his head, and his hands were clenching and unclenching into fists. He felt the blood flow in his right leg be restored, and Klaus' fingers crept up his body. Damon gasped and tried to buck his hips up as Klaus' fingers pinched down hard on his nipple. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer, the heat and burning desire for release in his core was reaching an unbearable level.

Damon screamed from deep within himself as the heat and the pleasurable sensations broke him and threw him over the edge. Klaus swallowed all he gave, and reared his head, looking triumphant. Through his heavy panting, Damon felt Klaus crawl onto his upper half, his long fingers stroking his jaw line. Damon grabbed Klaus' head, and crushed their lips together. Damon could taste himself on those soft lips, and even more as Klaus' tongue slithered inside.

He knew there would be hell to pay tomorrow, especially with Caroline being mad at him for trying to kill her Dad, Alaric being mad at him for snapping his neck, when he was fed up of Elena and everyone else telling him how to behave, and Elena herself. She would be feeling guilty for treating him like that, but Damon was done caring about her, for once in his life, someone had actually picked him first. And he didn't give a damn that Klaus probably wouldn't remember it at all the next morning.

Finally, something had worked in his favour.

~ooOOoo~

Damon groaned at the never-ending pounding sensation inside his skull. It was one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had, but he could remember everything he did last night, everything from his drunken confessions to Klaus, and Elena calling him to apologize, and Klaus taking the battery out of his phone so they wouldn't be interrupted.

He turned to look at the sleeping Original Hybrid, wrapped in the silk bed sheets. His shirt was open, and he only had his boxers on, Damon guessed he slipped them back on while he was sleeping. He was tempted to rouse Klaus from his sleep, but he would probably bite at him, and Damon didn't need to be shy of one finger and dying of a werewolf bite.

He still couldn't believe last night had happened - it proved Klaus was harbouring something under the surface of his rock-hard exterior - and somebody had actually chosen him first. Not Stefan, him. It felt good to be the first choice for a change, rather than Elena's tidbit on the side, until her 'epic love', as Caroline so girlishly claimed, returned home to her like a husband who had been fighting in the war.

"Damon?" he heard Klaus groan from beside him. Damon knew what was coming, and he couldn't help the huge grin that forced it's way onto his face as he looked at Klaus. Obviously nobody could know the big, bad hybrid have feelings for Damon-I'll-tear-you-to-shreds-in-five-seconds-flat -Salvatore.

"Yeah?" he was still grinning.

"Last night," Klaus began.

"It never happened," Damon finished for him.

~ooOOoo~

(A/N) Ok, so I couldn't resist ending it like that, it wouldn't leave me and my brain alone. So, leave reviews, with the usual drill - Did you like it, did I do okay, how were the characters as drunken versions? Etc, etc...