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Blows me home

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It's been years since they've done this--over a decade--but Damon's body is, of course, familiar to his fingers. It's not usually this easy to touch him, though. Usually Stefan wouldn't have a chance to undress him before Damon had him pinned, reveling as always in his superior strength, and Stefan letting him, maybe--secretly--revelling in it a little himself, despite knowing where it came from. But then there's never been a night like this one either. Not for a hundred and fifty years. Stefan can still see the circle of fire when he closes his eyes; he knows Damon can too. And maybe other things.

I'm going to bring her back, he'd said, his eyes wild and alight, as though it were possible, as though it were a thing that could even be dreamed. And despite every part of him that knew better, some tiny portion in Stefan's heart had wanted to go along with it. And then he'd found Damon impaled on a tree, and Emily in poor Bonnie's body, and then the fire--he'd held Damon back, kept him from running into it.

His body feels the same now, like it wants to fight but knows deep down there's nothing to fight against. Damon bites him, shoves him towards the bed, and Stefan lets him, moving with the pushes, getting Damon's shirt open and off. He drops a bite of his own on Damon's shoulder and holds on tight to feel the shudder. They're both bleeding by now, the smell of it hot and electric in the air.

A long time ago, Katherine had said to Stefan--as they fucked in her bloodstained bed, her eyes pinning him on his back--He fucks differently from you, you know. Faster, more frantic, I think. As though he's afraid I might go away. He's been with Damon plenty of times since then and never noticed it, himself, but now he feels it. Despite the agonizing mess the last few weeks have been, despite the fact that most of that pain has been Damon's fault, Stefan wants to give him what he needs. He long ago gave up trying to understand 'why' when it came to his brother.

So it's him who pushes Damon down onto the bed and onto his back, and presses his palm hard to Damon's bare chest--waiting to see if he'll be allowed to do this. After all, Damon could snap his wrist in an instant, but Stefan is pretty sure he won't tonight. And--yes--Damon meets his eyes, and pushes up against Stefan's hand, and laughs a little, crooked laugh. But doesn't fight back.

"Come on then," Damon says, "little brother, show me what you've got," and cracks a jagged grin. Stefan kisses it. Hard, with teeth, pushing his way in, and Damon fighting him just enough to let Stefan know it's a game. His whole body is one long line of pent-up force, and Stefan wishes there were some way to hold him down, tie him up, to really hold him, but of course even if there were Damon would never allow it. So he does what he can--leaves shallow, trickling bites on Damon's throat, unbuttons Damon's pants and tugs them off. He palms Damon's cock, stroking him fuller, and licking at his wounds the whole time, feeling Damon's barely-there noises in his tongue. He's hard himself, fiercely so, and almost out of his mind with wanting.

He strokes Damon's cock until it's pearling wetness at the tip and Damon is hissing through his teeth, starting to move with him. Then he stops. The growl Damon makes is thrilling, as much for the contained danger as the sound of desire. Stefan pulls off his own shirt and Damon is watching him with that same strange glow in his eyes. It feels like he should say something, now--I want to fuck you. I want to hurt you. I want to fix you, all true, all equally useless.

"Turn over," he says.

"Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you," Damon says with a snort. But he does. His body is leaner than Stefan's, longer. Just as pale, though. Stefan kicks off his pants and runs one hand up Damon's thigh, feeling the blood just beneath the skin. Damon's muscles are tight under his touch, but god, it feels so good to touch him. Up over his ass, his back, and cupping the back of his neck, just for a moment. Stefan isn't sure he'd be allowed any more than that, not yet, anyway. Damon trembles--just the smallest, imperceptible bit--when Stefan holds the back of his neck.

"Just do it," he snaps. "If you still remember how."

He strokes his fingers up the inside of Damon's thigh, into his groove. Presses his thumb over Damon's opening, to feel him tense. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Stefan has to laugh at that, but it's all right, Damon is too, even if it's the sharp little half-laugh that sounds like he's choking it out. Anyway, that isn't want he wants, not really. Damon being quiet--that would be just wrong. Stefan gets the tin from the drawer and starts to slick his brother, stroking over the outside, then pushing in--slow, careful, slow--one finger. Wanting to feel every inch of this. Damon's so tight around him that the thought of fucking him is almost unbearable; Stefan bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. Meanwhile Damon is moving under his hands: the one hand on his hip, just holding him there, the other pushing a second finger inside him and fucking him, shallow and slow.

"Ah, Christ," Damon mutters, almost too low to be heard. It sends a thrill of heat down Stefan's spine anyway.

When he pushes inside for the first time Damon moans, loud and honest, and Stefan nearly comes right there. That's what he wants, the noise, the feeling, the something else inside his brother besides hating him, that Stefan was almost starting to believe wasn't there anymore. He slides home, his own whimpering loud in his ears, and stays there for a moment, just feeling it. Curled over Damon, shaped to his body. He covers Damon's clenching hands with his own and feels an answering shiver in Damon's body.

It takes some time for Stefan to find his rhythm, he's so stunned by the feel of it. Decades since he's done this to anyone, longer since he's done it to Damon. He does finally, though, a slow hard roll of his hips that makes Damon grunt and shudder and mutter inaudible things, names, curses. When Stefan feels himself getting close, he presses a wet kiss to the nape of Damon's neck and bites down hard.

The blood flows out fast and hot and Damon yells wordlessly and Stefan feels something give in the body underneath him, some deep coil unwinding, even as Damon tightens around him and Stefan swallows, swallows and comes. Somewhere in the midst of it he reaches for Damon's cock, grabs him and pulls roughly a few times, which is all it takes before Damon is coming in his hand in hot pulses.

The first thing Stefan feels, when he can feel again, is that his face is sticky with blood. The moment he pulls out Damon is on him, flipping him onto his back and licking at his face in long wet stripes. Then he moves to Stefan's throat, reopens one of the wounds he'd left earlier and sucks, and Stefan lies back and lets him take it. He can still feel the ghost of Damon melting under him, just for a few seconds going soft and easy. He thinks that will hold him for a long while.