Once you're here you're never gone

“Not really” she mutters, but that’s useless, because he’s been listening to her moving into her bed for the past hour. It’s not like he’s trying to play the creepy stalker, it’s just that with Kai popping around all the time he likes to know that’s she’s okay.

“Too busy fantasizing about me?” he piques, to distract her.

“That would have woken me up screaming” she dead pans.

Her steps are soft as she walks closer, he can hear the gentle thud of her naked feet on the tiles and his eyes find her face easily. Her lower lip is a bit swollen, for a moment he thinks she’s been kissed before he realizes she’s actually tortured her mouth thinking of a way to outsmart that asshole of a psychopath that’s been spying on them. Damon feels strangely relieved, like his biggest problem right now it might be  Bonnie Bennett being kissed by someone else. That’s absurd because he knows that scotch is not that good.

“Oh for sure” he replies when his brain catches up with her reply.

She rolls her eyes at that.

Bonnie is wearing a light pink camisole top gently falling over her breasts and shorts that leaves vast amounts of skin bare, so completely unaware of her own allure it is staggering. The light is soft over her eyes making them look wet, and she smells like the strawberry body shower gel she picked the last time they went grocery shopping. Damon can feel his mouth watering and sighs in irritation, turning from her for a moment. She’s tiny and fragile and he can so easily think of all the ways Kai could hurt her that it makes his stomach turn.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, as her hands slide on the kitchen isle top, like sha wants to touch him. She doesn’t and his fingers twitch.

Nope. But “Really, Bon-Bon?” he asks with genuine interest, because right know he couldn’t tell either. His voice is lower than he intended and his brain cells are doing something he’s not commanded them to.

Bonnie ignores him.

“You can’t be reckless” she warns him, like the school teacher she’d be so good at playing if she was into that.

“You clip my wings” he protests childishly. He raises two fingers and presses them between her eyes, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle “He worries you too much, you’ll get wrinkles”

“Don’t worry,” she reassures him “Should I ever get them, it would be because of you” and her accusatory look makes him grin.

“That’s better” he decides with a slight smile.

She sighs, shaking her head lightly to escape his eyes, “Do you think he’s listening?” she asks “that’ bastard making me paranoid” she admits between her teeth. It is endearing the way she admits her weakness, it makes him suddenly extremely protective of her.

“Not over this masterpiece” he says turning to raise the volume of the stereo. He’s not even paid any attention to the song coming up. It’s a compilation mix from ’94, one of the many he’s listening to these days.

Rescue me from the mire

Whisper words of desire

Rescue me, darling rescue me.

When he turns towards her again he doesn’t ask for permission before sliding his hand along her side and dragging her against his body for a slow dance.

“What are you doing?” she asks, hands frantically grabbing him to push him away before his icy blue eyes stop her.

“I’m trying to have a private moment,” he says “as in conversation” he highlights, “only a vampire  could hear us now, and he can’t siphon that power out of me” he explains, looking over her shoulder like he’s trying to find a target. There is no way Kai is nowhere near them, because his super hearing as been stretching and striving for the past hour and the only sound he could make out was Bonnie’s breathing, the acute sound of the springs of her mattress as she turned in bed, her steps along the stairs, but she doesn’t need to know the details. After all, there’s the devil in those.

She seems to relax slowly as she accepts his reasoning, and her fingers gently grab his shoulders as they slowly move on the tiles, soundless and breathless.

With your arms open wide

Want you here by my side

Come to me - darlin' rescue me

Her heartbeat reverberates through his chest as he enjoys the warmth of her body in his arms. One finger of his right hand starts moving slowly, in a hypnotic movement over the cotton of her camisole top, and every now and then the fabric gently move letting him graze her skin.

He’s not trying to seduce her, no, he’s just trying to reassure her, calm her down, make her feel safe. And if he peeks down at her, to spy on her mouth, or accidentally on the curve of her breasts, it is only to make sure she’s uninjured. “You don’t need to worry about him,” he offers gently, and when her heartbeat speeds up he is not sure it’s because of him or the possibility of Kai spying on them.

She’s even shorter when barefoot, so he needs to lean over to talk closer to her ear and let the conversation remain private.

 “We can do this,” he’s not sure this is escaping this reality or beating Kai. Or if he’s just telling her they can actually slow dance in a dark kitchen, lit only by the fireplace, like two pals.

“He’s dangerous, Damon,” she insists, breathing against the skin of his sternum, “He’s been alone with his insanity as his only companion, and he’s got nothing to lose”

“Which is why I am still the most dangerous guy in town, Bon,” he explains talking against her air “I got something I don’t want to lose” and if he was a bit less of a coward he would tell her. Or at least he would tell himself. Instead, he knows she’ll think he’s talking about Elena and he will let her.

“Okay, I am probably about ready to admit Elena got some luck,” she concedes.

I don't wanna let you go

So I'm standing in your way

I never needed anyone like I'm needing you today

“Maybe she’ll be open to sharing?” he piques, reverting to the banter that makes them feel safe, “If you get me on the odd days we can schedule movie night”

“First thing first: ow” she says, making a disgusted sound at the suggestion of sharing, “And second: I wasn’t thinking movie night would still be a thing”  she says hesitantly, half hiding her face against his shoulder.

Do you not want to? He wants to ask her, feeling almost like a rejected teenager. One half passable psycho makes eyes at you and I’m suddenly ‘94 news? “I’m a creature of habit” he replies nonchalantly, as his fingers tighten about her as they twirl lazily on the warm tiles.

“Right. It is normal at your age” she jokes with a shrug, and he repays her with a pinch on her naked side. She squeals in his arms accidentally pushing her beast against his chest as she jumps under his hand and her breath breaks in a moan. Damon pushes back the istintive reaction of his body, his brain screaming Elena like it's a fire alarm. He tries his best to conceal the stiffening of his whole body and un-feel the softness of her breast against the hard planes of his chest, because that could make things awkward between them. If she had the decency to be, at least, a little less soft, a little less tempting. Slightly less Bonnie. That would be good.

“Okay, okay,” she concedes breathless, still squirming slightly under his fingers, ghosting once again over her skin, in the tiny space left he can occupy without making it appear intentional, “Got it. Sensitive subject” she chuckles against his chest and he forgets his retort.

“Unmannered brat” he accuses her with flat tone.

“If we survive this” she announces, her voice becoming softer with each word “I’ll let you pick the movie next Wednesday” and next Wednesday feels already so concrete and pure and  tantalizing his canines itch.

Damon holds her closer, one hand pressing against the center of her back as the other rests intimately over her side.

He’s not sure this is this alternative reality or the menace of Kai. Or if she’s just referring to the fact that they can actually slow dance in a dark kitchen, lit only by the fireplace, just like two pals. What he is sure of, it’s that he needs to take a moment before replying anything, because his voice might give away more than he can, without any remorse or consequence.

“I suppose that would be nice, Bon” he concedes “really nice” he repeats, too faintly for her to hear.

Do I have to say the words?

Do I have to tell the truth?

Do I have to shout it out?

Do I have to say a prayer?

Must I prove to you how good we are together?