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Mystic Falls’ Historical Society loves to organize events. They have a lot of traditions, and the annual fair in May is one of them. Somehow, Alaric gets enrolled into helping out. He thinks the very insistent woman who recruited him argued that as a history teacher it was his duty or something, he doesn’t remember exactly, she was talking so much and so fast and he probably yielded so that she would just stop.
So there he is, behind a wooden counter, holding out crossbows and carefully explaining how they work, then handing out stuffed animals as prizes to those who manage to actually hit the target.
At least he’s doing something he’s good at. Poor old Mrs. Jenkins, the English Literature teacher, is selling pastries and getting mixed up with the change more often than not from what he can hear.
“How did you end up here?”
Alaric turns to face Damon Salvatore, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The vampire is leaning on the counter, nonchalantly leering at Alaric. There’s something in the way his pale eyes catch the light that gives them a strange, alluring gleam, and Alaric swallows, hides his sudden discomfort under a shrug.
“I’m not exactly sure,” he admits.
A couple of teenagers stop by and Alaric turns away from Damon. He shoes them how the crossbow works then steps back as the boy takes his shots. None of his three arrows end up even close to the target, and the girl laughs then drags her boyfriend away. During the whole time, Alaric can feel Damon’s eyes on him. It’s unnerving.
“What do you want, Damon?” he asks when they’re alone again.
“Maybe I just like your company, ever thought about that?” Damon raises an eyebrow, and such a simple thing should not be so suggestive.
“Yeah, right,” Alaric snorts. When Damon keeps looking at him without a word, he adds, “Listen, either you have something to tell me, or you play the game” –he jerks a thumb to the target behind him– “but either way you don’t just stand here.”
“Alright,” Damon shrugs easily, “hand me one of these crossbows then.”
“It’s five dollars for three arrows. I believe you know how this works?”
Damon hands a five-dollar bill to Alaric, and Alaric could swear the vampire’s fingers lingered against his just a bit longer than necessary. He gives him a crossbow and steps back, watching as Damon sends all three arrows hit the bull’s eye.
Alaric rolls his eyes, then recovers the arrows. There’s nothing extraordinary for a vampire to hit a target at such a short distance. He doesn’t know who Damon is trying to impress, there isn’t anyone watching them. Maybe he’s just bored, or maybe he just likes bugging Alaric, who knows?
“Congratulations, you won,” Alaric says flatly. “There you go.”
He picks up their biggest teddy bear, which is pink and fluffy, hands it over to Damon. The vampire takes it. Then, quick as lightning, he grabs Alaric’s shirt and pulls him down over the table until their lips meet.
Alaric’s mouth opens in surprise, and Damon takes advantage of it, slides his tongue inside. It’s all over so fast Alaric’s feeling a bit dizzy staring back into Damon’s laughing, seductive eyes.
“It’s for you,” the vampire says, pushing the stuffed bear back into Alaric’s hands.
This time, Alaric knows he’s not imagining the way Damon’s fingers brush against his skin, all purpose and intent.
“Wanna go for a drink, when you’re off-duty?” Damon asks with a crooked smile.
Alaric is a little surprised to find that yeah, he’d love to. The gleam in Damon’s eyes when he says so promises many, many things. Alaric thinks he’s looking forward to all of them.