[fanfic] [vampire diaries] and you will always return

[bromantic.livejournal.com]

December 30th, 1949

You stepped out into the balcony, the lights of a newly dawning empire below you. Vegas, Las Vegas, people said, their eyes lit with excitement, greed, lust and you remember a similar hunger coil within your stomach as Damon drove through the strip, the colours washing over their windshield like a rainbow.

Vegas, Damon said nonchalantly, throwing a glance at you, learn to love it, little brother. You simply nodded and looked out the window. Damon laughed at the signs. Damon always laughs now. You always want to cry when he does, but you dredge up that old smile, the crooked one that’s always around the rim of a glass and the nape of a girl. He seemed satisfied, but he wasn’t. He never was.

“Stefan,” you heard your brother say behind you, so you turn to face him. He’s dressed casually, a leather jacket and a pink shirt. The look on your face must have been transparent, because he snorted, “What, I like pink.”

You can’t help but chuckle. If Father saw Damon now, his face would be blue with anger. You fingered your cuffs, dressed in a tux and a bow around your collar. Damon approached you, brushing some dust off your shoulder, “Really, Stefan, the party central of the United States and you wear something that makes you seem you’re going to a funeral.”

“Maybe I am,” It wasn’t the most subtle hint to Damon’s eating habits, but being subtle at Damon was like hitting an elephant with a battering ram. They were nearly a century old now, and most of it was spent with each other, at each other. Damon simply smirked and combed his hands through your hair almost lovingly. Almost.

“You know this room has a large bathtub,” Damon said, his mouth close to your ear. You were used to this, so you didn’t react, your eyes framing the empty space where his brother once stood, “We could fill it with booze and blood.”

“That would be disgusting,” You said, finally turning to face him, “And we could get caught.”

“Big cities never catch on,” Damon said, pulling back and flapping his hand in the air, “It’s the small ones that do.”

“And we know that from experience, don’t we Damon?” You heard yourself say and you knew that you had gone too far because Damon had fallen silent, darkly staring through you. You considered trying to run, but there was no point when there was no where to go but back to him, so you stood your ground while your brother contemplated a new punishment for you. Your heart crawled.

And like a switch, Damon was back to angles and smiles, light humour reflected off his face. He patted your cheek and said, “Cheer up, little brother.”

That was a punishment in itself and you could only nod dumbly as Damon strode towards the door, plucking the keys. He tossed his head back and looked at you straight in the eye, “Coming, Stefan? There’s a tub that needs booze and a woman in it.”

You don’t say yes. You don’t need to because you straightened your jacket and follow him out the door. You lead because Damon always needs to be at your back. He knows you want to leave and he will never let you. And you know you will always come back.