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Put On Their Sunday Best

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Damon poured himself a drink when he got in from that day's merry little game of Try To Get A Step Ahead Of Katherine Pierce's Crazy Motives. He thought he deserved one. There was blood all down his shirt and unfortunately it was his, except for what was Stefan's. Although Stefan, the lucky son of a bitch, was over at the Gilbert house with Elena batting her eyelashes at him and healing his pain with the power of her love –

Damon winced. He'd meant that thought to be sarcastic, not bitter. He finished his O-negative and topped up the glass with brandy. Big empty house, not even one sorority girl to snack on, and another shirt ruined. He ought to start buying the black ones in bulk. And Stefan was with Elena having his hair stroked and his mouth kissed and listening to her say nice things, and -

Damn.

He gulped his brandy as he took the stairs two at a time, and tossed the empty glass down on Stefan's bed as he shucked the ruined shirt.

"You know," said Katherine, "it's a little weird that that you keep your clothes in your brother's closet."

Damon spun and hit out but she was still faster than him. She'd gone from standing right behind him to lounging at ease on Stefan's bed in a flash. Her hair curled around her face. "Katherine," Damon said. "I see you still can't use straighteners. You know, I don't think all that eyeliner suits you."

"Sometimes I think I know why I'm the only woman you ever loved," said Katherine, smirking as she looked at him through her eyelashes. "Thanks for the fashion tips, Damon. I'll keep them in mind next time I want to do milkmaid innocence. Though I think my Elena impression isn't too bad, really."

"What do you want, Katherine," said Damon flatly.

"What, can't I just stop by to say hello? You owe me an apology, Damon." Damon rolled his eyes and turned away, reaching for a fresh shirt again. Katherine was suddenly in front of him, holding his wrist. "Oh no no, don't do that," she said. "I said you owe me. You killed my werewolf, Damon." Her soft wicked mouth curled into a smile. "And now I'm... at a loose end."

"Are you kidding me?" said Damon. "Your taste's really gone downhill, by the way, is that what you're into these days? Beach bum puppy love?" He shook her hand off. "Get out."

"Are you sure?" She chuckled low in her throat, old and knowing. "It's not like you to turn me down. And as for puppy love – well, we both know I always had a little soft spot for that, don't we?"

Damon lunged for her throat and threw her against the closet door, watching her eyes bulge for a second as he choked her. "I said get out," he said. "You don't get to come in here and try that again. It worked once and only once, okay? I don't want you, Katherine. And you made it pretty clear you don't want me either."

"Oh, but I do," Katherine said hoarsely. "Who wouldn't want you, Damon?" Damon's hands relaxed a little involuntarily. She laughed and reached up to pry them off her throat. Her slim cool fingers closed gently around his wrists as she pushed him away. Damon shook them off and stepped back. "Anyway, this isn't about what I want. I'm feeling nice. So tell me, Mr. Salvatore who doesn't want me," she smirked, obviously not convinced, "what do you want?"

"I want you gone," said Damon, turning away. "Get out of my house and let me brood in peace."

"All alone? Where's Stefan?"

"Out."

"Oh," said Katherine. "It's like that, is it." She paused, and added softly, "Hey, Damon, hey. It's okay."

The words and the way she said them were so very much not Katherine that Damon froze for a second. "What are you up to?" he said.

"Look, I get it. I know I shouldn't be here. I just had to come to see if you were all right." She paused. "Stefan doesn't know."

"What –" said Damon, turning and almost bumping into her. She'd got right up close. There was a slight crease of concern between her eyebrows, and she touched his cheek, and then his bare shoulder where the poker had gone straight through it about an hour ago. There wasn't even a mark now, just the bloodstain still on his skin. "That bitch Katherine," she said. "We are going to stop her, and she's going to pay for what she's done to you. To all of us."

"Katherine, what the hell are you doing," Damon got out. His voice sounded low in his own ears.

"Don't talk about her, Damon. She doesn't matter. I came here for you," said Katherine, looking up at him with those big dark eyes. "I needed to see that you were okay." She paused. "Is it such a surprise that I care about you?"

Damon swallowed.

Katherine looked down at her feet and then back up at him. "Look, I need to say something. This thing, this thing between us, I want you to know that it – it won't go anywhere. Because I would never do anything that would hurt Stefan, you know that. And because I know that you would never, ever want me to. Because he's your brother and you love him." Katherine stepped closer and her hand slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck in a gentle caress. "But I do love you, Damon, I do. And more than that – I believe in you." Damon closed his eyes. "You're a good person, Damon," she said. "I know."

She kissed him, and the brief chaste touch of her mouth felt like a brand. Damon gasped and reached out for her and she caught him, wrapped her arms around him and let him kiss her. She felt so small and delicate, and her mouth was so soft. "This can only be once, Damon," she whispered as they broke apart. "Stefan –"

"I know," Damon began to say, and she pulled his mouth back down to hers. Against his lips she murmured, "But right now I'm with you."

They kissed and kissed, stumbling sideways until their knees hit the side of Stefan's bed, and there Damon lifted her up bodily and kissed her again, cradling her in his arms and tasting the warmth of her mouth before he placed her reverently on top of the covers. She held out her hands to him and he crawled on top of her and kissed her again and again, and they were making out like high schoolers, clinging to each other among the white sheets. "Damon," she said, stroking her hands down his bare back.

Damon shivered and dropped his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her skin. She kept touching him, her small cool hands on his back and his shoulders, smoothing along his arms until she reached his hands and their fingers twined. He kissed her collarbone as she guided his hands to the hem of her shirt and then up underneath it. Her skin felt smooth and perfect. "It's okay, Damon," she said when he hesitated. "Go on."

He pulled the shirt off over her head. The bra she was wearing was all wrong, dark red lace, so he kissed her deeply with his eyes closed tight as he unhooked it one-handed and threw it aside. Her hands were undoing his belt and smoothing over his thighs. Damon couldn't bring himself to reach for her pants. He touched her breasts instead, reverently kissed each of her high olive nipples, then bent his head to suck on one as gently as he knew how. She threw her head back and moaned when his mouth was on her. Damon listened to her soft whimpering and wanted her so much he could hardly think.

Eventually her whimpers resolved themselves into words: "Damon, Damon, oh – come on, do it. Be with me." Damon lifted his mouth from her breast and turned his face away, but she reached out for him, sitting up under him and pulling him close. "Be with me, Damon," she said. "I love you."

Damon nodded wordlessly, and rolled off her to get rid of his pants. When he turned back to her she was naked and beautiful, propped up on her elbows, smiling that loving smile at him. Damon felt the breath he didn't need to take catch in his throat, and lunged forward to kiss her, pressing her down into the pillows. She laughed into his mouth, affectionate and delighted, and wrapped her arms around him. "Like this," she said breathlessly, "just like this, just for us." She spread her legs a little under him and her lips parted, inviting. Damon shook his head, feeling a disbelieving smile on his face, and kissed her again.

When he slid into her he had to let her mouth go to squeeze his eyes shut and concentrate on making it slow, slow and gentle. She was gasping, and she felt so good around him. Finally, sheathed all the way inside her, he opened his eyes and looked down into her dark, smiling face. She reached up to brush his hair away where it hung in his eyes, and then her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back in her head as he slowly started to move inside her. "Yes," she gasped, "oh yes, Damon, just like that, oh –" Their hips rocked together as she clung to him and he made love to her, dropping kisses on her face and then when he couldn't hold his head up any more on her neck, her shoulder, both of them gasping over and over. "Yes, yes, Damon, oh, you'll make me –" she was saying, and Damon found himself answering, telling her she was beautiful, amazing, perfect, "-so perfect, so good, you feel so good and I love you, oh, I, I, I love you, Elena –"

He came with a shout which he muffled in her skin. Her hands were twisted into his hair and her legs were wrapped around his ribs. Damon lay there boneless while she stroked his hair and then the back of his neck, gently, gently. "That feels nice," he mumbled at last.

"You always liked it," Katherine answered.

Damon stiffened and then rolled off her, sitting up on the side of the bed. He felt rather than saw her prop herself up on her side behind him.

"Well, that was fun," she said. "I had forgotten how romantic you get."

"Don't."

Katherine laughed. "You have to admit it's funny. Most people's deepest darkest fantasies aren't so... vanilla."

Damon hunched his shoulders. "Okay. You got what you wanted. Go."

"Oh, I always get what I want," said Katherine. "Unlike you. My poor Damon. Didn't you get broken hard enough the first time?" She stretched, lithe as a cat. "What is it about Elena Gilbert, I wonder? At first I thought she was just a fantasy. You know, a version of me as innocent as she looks. But no. Instead it's you and Stefan, falling over each other for a seventeen-year-old, and I really do wonder. What has she got that I haven't got?"

"You want to know?" said Damon. "I'll tell you. She's got a heart."

"Oh Damon," said Katherine, standing up and shaking her hair back into place. She gave him a slight unreadable smile. "I have one of those."