#ayte

Annie shouldn’t find the idea of being shoved up against a wall by the neck to be so arousing, but she does. 

Red’s got one hand wrapped around her neck - tight enough to be a threat, but not choking her yet - and the other yanking her pants down and dropping them around her ankles. He lets out a short snort at the sight of her damp panties and shoves their mouths together in a rough kiss as his free hand slides between her legs to slip through the fluid leaking from her.

And she moans.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” Red growls with a smirk, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip and drawing a hissed groan from her. She can’t speak with his hand pressed against her throat, so she doesn’t answer, but he hardly needs her to.

“Turn around,” he demands, releasing her neck so he can grab her and flip her around, shoving her face-first against the wall. “And stay silent, or I wont let you cum.”

She bites her lip and nods, jutting her ass out for him and spreading her legs. She can hear the sound of him opening his own jeans and then a puff of heated air rolls over the back of her neck when he slides his hard cock against her slit.

Previously on A Year to Eternity…

‘It’s 2:48 in the morning’… ‘I stole something… it glowed from my backpack’…

‘There is nothing else, Elijah’… ‘Are you seeing this’…

~oOo~

“You found it like this when you locked up?” Alaric leaned over the display, mindful of his hand placement to avoid the glass shards. “None of the wards were breached?”

“Who could have pulled this off?” Dorian tipped the lantern. Light caught on various surfaces, showing the jagged breaks in the case.

“Technically one of the twins could have,” he muttered. “Do you remember when Josie let the kids out of detention? Wendy, Diego and Jade.”

“I remember the aftermath, but I didn’t know Josie let them out.” Dorian whispered. “You think one of your daughters did this?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Why would they?”

Hope silently squeezed Landon’s hand as she came to terms with her half backed plan to replace the knife and clean up the mess coming to a screeching halt.

“They could have siphoned away the wards,” Dorian rubbed the back of his neck. “Someone else could have broken the case.”

“But why that knife and who?”

“Whoever did it has to still be on campus. The gates only opened twice today when you and Caroline left and came back.”

Landon shifted. His invisible knee caught a book. He watched it fall in slow motion, scrambling even slower to catch it.

The thud echoed in the dark.

Two beams of light hit them in the face; they shut their eyes against the blinding yellow.

“Who’s there?” Alaric called. “Show yourself now and I might go easy on detention.”

“I think we’re caught,” Landon whispered. He let go of her hand to black the light.

“Landon?” Dorian lowered his flashlight.

He glanced down, realizing he was visible. Hope popped into existence beside him.

“I told you not to let go of my hand,” she hissed.

“Hope?” Alaric turned his light away. He released a sigh and shook his head. “What is it with teenagers? You have a single room and you’re sneaking into the library.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t give them ideas, Ric,” Dorian smirked. “Don’t want her dad killing you.”

~oOo~

“There’s got to be a hundred books here,” she breathed, surveying the display with wonder.

Her fingers implored her to trace the spines of each book in the glass case; she found her will powerless to stop the action. Some fit in the palm of her hand, those were ones that would have fit in the pocket of her snuggest jeans. Others were thicker than her thigh and the height of her torso. For every book written in English there were a dozen more in languages she had never heard of.

Bits of spine crumbled under her touch, leaving a fine dust of gold and silver on her skin.

She picked a tiny volume and gently turned the thin pages, spying the fine lines of her fingerprint through the paper. The outline of her finger through the translucent pages made the already indecipherable language impossible.

“Impressed?” Kol smirked, pulling book after book free.

“No,” she denied, plopping down with one of the English books. “Two hundred and I’d be impressed, but one hundred and I’m just ‘meh’,” she held a hand flat over the floor, tipping it from side to side while miming a bored expression.

Kol sauntered over and rearranged the throw pillows to join her on the crimson fainting couch.

“This isn’t my entire collection, love. There are several dozen more littering as many homes across the world.”

“And you just left them there?” She shifted, pressing her thigh closer to his warm leg.

“I didn’t have much choice in the matter when my father caught up to us,” he shrugged, watching her flip pages from the corner of his eye. “It’s one of the reasons I spent so many centuries on my own.”

She balanced the book on her knees and tipped her head up, tracing the curve of his brow with her eyes.

“You went back.”

“Nik and Elijah could have rotted away at the bottom of the deepest ocean for all I cared, but I never could refuse Rebekah and would inevitably return when she called. Had Nik ever bothered taking the dagger out of Finn I suspect he would have done the same.”

“Finn?” Her eyes widened, voice rising in pitch. “The same Finn who colluded with Esther to kill all of you? That Finn?”

“You knew him after he spent an unknown number of centuries dagger and aware of it,” he tilted his head, fingers absently drawing patterns on the page. “He woke up angry and he stayed angry. I have often wondered how history would have altered if he had lived that millennium with us.”

“If you start asking what if you’ll never stop,” she warned, covering his hand with hers, “and eternity is a long time to torture yourself with those types of questions. I don’t think I could handle that hanging over my head.”

She turned her focus back to the thick lines of ink. At first glance she had taken the words for English.

“I can’t read this?”

“It’s Old English.” Kol chuckled, lifting the leather volume. “This is the account of a twelfth century witch who was, quite frankly, mad.”

“You’re calling someone crazy,” she laughed, tilting her head to the side. “What makes her ‘mad’?”

“Well,” he flipped pages and traced a faded line of ink, “she writes, quite earnestly I might add, about the scourge of the sky.”

“What’s that supposed to be?” She bit down her grin.

“When I was growing up they were referred to in the saga’s as Ormr, lohikäärme, or dreki…”

“I have no doubt you could give me a list of names from every country,” she snorted, cutting him off, “probably in languages that haven’t been spoken in centuries, but what would I call it?”

He laughed softly.

“You would call it a dragon.”

~oOo~

The shape swooped low, circling the lake. A leathery wing trailed through the water. It moved closer, sharpening the impossible image, landing surprisingly light on the dock.

Scales covered every inch of the massive body from horned head to spiked tail and across both wings.

“Niklaus,” Elijah watched the beast.

Beneath the throat came the distinct glow of fire, spreading up to illuminate the eyes. The great mouth yawned open, sending flames towards them in a slow motion spiral.

He felt the lick of heat a second before the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

He dove out of the path; Klaus sprang in the opposite direction.

He hit the ground hard. The flames unfurled inches above his shoulder and collided with the house. The fire burned through the siding. Wood crackled and warped. The flames spread faster than his panic and in any other situation he might have found that impressive, but a single thought occupied his mind.

He raced into the house.

Acrid smoke filled his lungs.

~oOo~

“Dragons?” Bonnie couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mmhmm,” Kol’s eyes sparkled as he flipped through the pages. “She wrote of entire villages destroyed in fire and a beast nearly impossible to kill unless stabbed in the soft spot.”

“Well,” she shook her head, “assuming you’re not pulling my leg then she’s crazy.”

“I would never pull your leg.”

Bonnie laughed and inclined her head towards the book.

“Why’d you keep it?”

“Because, despite her psychotic leanings, she created several powerful spells,” he hummed. “I’ve also made a habit of collecting the odd.”

“Odd?” Bonnie quirked an eyebrow. One hand waved in the general direction of the stocked shelf. “How many more of those deal with the far-fetched?”

“All of them,” he tilted his head. “Between every useful spell is a fantastic account about a creature of myth. Some are written like this one where the author truly believed what they wrote, and others read as a recounting of tales passed along; although those are few. I have references to kitsune and oni, griffons and unicorns, dryads, naiads, centaurs…”

“A never-ending list?”

“At least one per grimoire,” Kol nodded, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Some have more. One day I might compile that information. I have nothing but time.”

“Is that your eternity project?” She teased, excited over the prospect of such a book.

“No, that would be soaking up all of the knowledge in the world. Is that too high a goal?”

~oOo~

“Elena,” he burst into the bedroom.

Serena screamed; the sound resided somewhere between terror and pain. Elena cradled her looking dazed and panicked.

Caroline spun to face him and immediately raised her shirt to her mouth as the smoke drifted in.

Klaus shoved his shoulders, pushing him further into the room so he could slam the door.

“What’s going on?” Elena coughed. Serena wiggled in her arms, sweat drenched her pyjamas.

“Why is the house on fire?” Caroline moved to the door. Klaus’ hands held her back. “Klaus?”

“The stairs are out of the question.”

“What does that mean?” Elena moved, given Elijah space to open her window.

“It means they’re gone.”

Caroline ran at vampire speed, slamming drawers and flinging open the closet. By the time Elijah broke the glass and hopped onto the sloped roof she had a large duffle slung over her shoulder.

“Give her here.”

Elena passed her baby to Elijah without hesitation. Then she climbed onto the roof. Caroline followed a moment later with Klaus.

The arms that scooped her up were definitely masculine.

She locked her hands around Klaus’ neck, shutting her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the ground coming.

“The school’s closer.”

Elena nodded in what she thought was Elijah’s direction, but the sudden silence told her he was already gone with Serena.

“Hold tight, love.”

She tucked her head in and swallowed the urge to be sick as the world sped by in a blur that she refused to watch. When he stopped, the horrific sound of home burning was gone.

Klaus set her lightly on the entry floor.

Caroline’s eyes darted between them, unsure who to question first. She decided on him.

“What just happened?”

“A dragon set Elena’s house on fire…”

“A what?” Caroline’s voice rose in pitch.

“Where’s Elijah?” Elena spun, uninterested at the moment. She shouted his name.

Klaus caught the reply. “He’s in the kitchen.”

Elena ran with the pair on her heels.

“Dragon?” Caroline gripped his arm. “Did we step into Game of Thrones?”

“I know how it sounds, but…” Klaus trailed off when he stepped into the kitchen and found his daughter, Landon, Alaric and the librarian crowded around Elijah with varying degrees of wonder on their faces. Elena’s sharp elbows proved to be the only thing capable of parting the assembly. “Why is everyone watching the baby have a bath? Why is she having a bath?”

Hope looked up first, but no sound left her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Elijah murmur, pressed close to Elena’s ear. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” her voice sounded thick with tears. She dipped and pressed a lingering kiss to her baby’s head. “She’s okay.” Her hands took over the hold.

“The marks are fading.”

Klaus circled the island as Caroline dropped the bag.

Elijah pulled the tap free and shifted to a gentle stream of water that he let trickle over the baby’s belly; the girl grunted and blinked, glowing blue eyes focused solely on her mother’s face.

“Her eyes,” Klaus breathed. His hand curled around Hope’s elbow.

“Her feet,” Hope blinked, nodding to the sink.

“Can you all back up?” Elena snapped. Her throat burned from the brief smoke inhalation. “She’s my baby, not a circus sideshow.”

Caroline stepped in when the others moved back and peered around Elijah’s side. She delicately cleared her throat.

“Elena…” Serena squealed, “… please don’t take this in the ‘gawking at a circus freak’ way, but have you noticed her neck?”

She ground her teeth. “What are you talking about?”

Caroline took the tap from Elijah and carefully directed the water so it hit skin, but avoided the ears. She understood if they hadn’t noticed; the hands and eyes were distracting, but in the folds of her neck three fine blue lines glowed, seeming to split the skin.

“She’s something else,” Elijah pressed a hand to Elena’s back, grateful when she made no mention of how he trembled. “It appears you stand corrected brother.”

“I stood corrected at the dragon,” Klaus grumbled.

“Dragon?” Landon gaped, looking to a shocked Hope. “There are dragons?”

~oOo~

“You do have nothing but time,” Bonnie glanced towards the shelf, shifting on the cushions. “I have a question.”

“Okay,” he turned giving her his full attention.

“This had bugged me for years since I first heard the term,” her fingers danced over the plump cushion near his elbow. “Why do they call it a fainting couch?”

“There were used when doctor’s made house calls, treating hysteria,” he wiggled his eyebrows, a playful smirk on his lips. “The couch provided maximum comfort during procedures.”

She flushed, vividly recalling the film she had watched years before with her friends.

“You’re making that up,” she rolled her eyes.

“I am not,” he gasped, manoeuvring her so she sat comfortably in the corner. He grinned when she bent her knee for balance. “The poor ‘disease’ required weekly manual massage that would last for hours,” he breathed against the shell of her ear, eliciting a shiver. The heady scent of desire permeated the air and drew him closer.

He couldn’t resist a taste and allowed his tongue to trace her ear. He nipped with blunt teeth, mindful of her earring.

She gasped, bringing her hand to his sleeve.

“Th-that doesn’t explain ‘fainting’,” her nails dug into his bicep.

He pulled back and met her eyes, blown wide with the lust he could smell.

“The procedure, lasting for hours as it often did, could leave women feeling faint for a time.” He ran a finger over her hip in the lightest pressure that sent goosebumps spiralling across her skin. “Shall I demonstrate?”

“Will it take hours?” She bit her bottom lip.

“I should think not,” he popped the button on her jeans and pulled the zipper, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of bright white lace. “I have far more skill than those charlatans.”

Her head fell back with a moan, coaxed forth by the dexterous fingers massage. He took advantage of her exposed throat to lay kiss after open-mouthed kiss on her skin. His free hand slid under her shirt and up until his thumb made contact with her hard nipple.

“D-doctors did this?” She strained, attempting to roll her hips.

“Heavens no,” he nipped her bottom lip. “Anything beyond clitoral massage would have been highly improper.”

He pushed two fingers inside.

“Then this doesn’t count as a demonstration,” she moaned. He swallowed most of the sound with a kiss, muffling the whimper brought out by the pressure of his palm. Her muscles trembled, pulled taut to the edge of release fast by the shallow thrust of his fingers.

“I never claimed to be proper,” he chuckled, nose skimming her throat. “My, my; you are close little witch. Has it been so long since someone touched you?”

She might have been mortified by her whimper if not for the cresting pleasure. Her walls fluttered, spasming around his fingers. When he told her to come she was surprised at her body’s ability to obey, and for a long moment she slumped, only vaguely aware of the slick release coating her underwear.

She watched through lidded eyes as he cleaned first one finger then the other with his tongue.

“Divine,” he hummed, “truly, darling. I would love a second taste if you don’t mind.”

His fingers skimmed the inch of exposed skin between jeans and top.

She should have been satisfied, satiated, but her body craved more of him, so she lifted her hips’ the material dragged over her legs before being discarded on the floor with her shoes.

He knelt between her legs, but she stopped him with one hand on his collar.

“If I’m losing clothes then so are you,” she tugged.

Kol chuckled, but leaned back to pull off his shirt.

“As you wish.”

~oOo~

The Boarding School kitchen had long since descended into the chaos that only half a dozen overlapping voices and a screaming baby could achieve.

Klaus had leapt off the topic of dragons and fire in favour of grilling his teenage daughter on her reasons for being out in the middle of the night.

Caroline seemed torn between the tragedy at her best friend’s house, her wandering students and the vandalism in the library. She fired question after question before anyone could finish with an answer. Not that anyone would have heard anyway.

Hope kept trying to explain what had happened with interjections from Landon.

Dorian examined the dagger and talked about something that drowned under the other voices.

Alaric’s attention split down the middle somewhere between dragons and babies with glowing eyes.

Elena bounced on the balls of her feet. She longed to scream at them all to shut up, but Serena hated the noise, and she refused to add to it. She felt her adrenaline die; with its departure her heart faltered.

“My house is on fire,” she breathed.

“Yes,” Elijah nodded, reaching a hand to brush sweat damp hair behind her ear.

“A dragon set my house on fire,” she cradled Serena’s head. Tears shimmered in her eyes when she thought of the last of her family heirlooms. All of her pictures had been in the lake house; insurance would let her rebuild without touching on her savings, but it wouldn’t replace her memories. At least every picture of Serena had been backed up.

Everyone’s arguing voices faded as Elijah folded both of them into the circle of his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a shaking breath. A faint aroma of smoke clung to him, but the overwhelming feeling of security dwarfed the reminder.

“I used to be so much better at this.” Serena quieted in her arms. “Compartmentalizing.”

“You don’t need to,” his hand smoothed through her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

With a jolt she realized that the other voices had not just faded they had disappeared. When she turned her head, she found everyone watching them.

“Are we done shouting?” She straightened up and swiped at her eyes. Her fingers smoothed wide circles over Serena’s purple sweater.

Before anybody could answer her, a roar sounded from outside.

Elijah stiffened.

Klaus grabbed Hope and Landon when they made for the window behind Caroline and Alaric who pushed in next to Dorian.

Elena wasn’t sure what to make of the sight. The dragon, something she thought she would never see nor say, shrank; it’s wings and body folded in until all that remained was a woman with dark skin peeking out beneath a soot stained gown.

She appeared, for all intents and purposes, human. But then again, so did everyone in the room.

Her eyes smouldered with live fire, wrecking her camouflage.

It/She kept a fixed gaze on the dagger in Dorian’s hand as the sun rose behind her back. It’s/Her mouth gaped.

Hope pulled free and ran towards the pantry. She returned seconds later with a box of salt and a tin of tea. She muttered a spell as she drew a circle around the tea; a wall of fire spread high three feet beyond the window.

From upstairs came the distant sound of screaming. Downstairs cried echoed. 

“Ric, sound off for a lockdown and be ready to evacuate. Nobody leaves the school except through the tunnels.” Caroline rocked back on her heels, jumping into the roll of problem solving headmistress. The bark of orders reminded Elena of the Miss Mystic Falls float and Matt’s crushed arm. “Hope, how long will that spell last?”

“Twenty minutes… if we’re lucky.” Her eyes flickered to the crude protection spell.

“Twenty minutes,” she muttered, eyes flickering between the Original brothers. “Either of you know how to slay a dragon?”

“Until a few hours ago we were unaware of their existence,” Klaus shook his head.

“Naturally,” she sighed. “Ric, go, take Hope and Landon. Dorian hit the books and if you haven’t found anything in fifteen minutes evacuate. Elena, take the baby and get the hell out of here.” Her voice grew sharp when nobody appeared to listen, barking in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Move!” Caroline grabbed Klaus’ sleeve when everyone else hurried to listen. A sharp look kept Elijah in the room. “Do either of you have any ideas?”

“I’d offer to rip out the beast’s heart, but I don’t think I’ll get close enough.” Klaus looked out the window where said beast was shifting again.

“A death curse might do the trick,” Elijah frowned. He felt overcome with the sudden sense that his heart resided outside his body and was racing rapidly along the hall.

“We don’t keep black magic on campus, and even if we had it there’s not a witch strong enough to use one without Bonnie.” Caroline shook her head.

At the library door Alaric parted ways with Elena after asking if she remembered the way; he left her with the teens and moved to the office.

Elena adjusted her hold. Her eyes snapped to Hope as she moved for the stairs.

“That’s not the right way,” she cocked an eyebrow.

“I have an idea,” Hope called back, taking off at the same moment Alaric came over the loud-speaker. “I won’t be long.”

Landon shrugged apologetically and followed before Elena could stop either of them.

~oOo~

“Please tell me you have something else to listen to,” Bonnie sighed. She slumped into her seat and poked at her ears. “I swear this is perforating my eardrums.”

“What’s wrong with opera?” He glided around three cars on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speed.

She hugged her jacket closed against a blast of cold air and spun to face him, folding one leg under the other.

“It’s boring and loud and half the time at a register that only dogs can hear,” she said, ticking off reasons on her fingers. “And slow down. You might not be able to die in a fiery car crash, but I can.”

“I won’t let you die Bonnie.” He dutifully lowered his speed until he exceeded the limit by a measly thirty miles an hour. With his right hand he flipped to a second preset station. “Is Jazz more to your liking?”

“I’ll take it over Opera,” she rolled her eyes. “What’s the rush?”

“Do you want me to slow down and delay answers for Elena?” Kol shifted lanes.

“No, but I do want to be able to actually help her, so it would be nice it you didn’t wrap us around a telephone-pole.” She leaned into his space, pressing close enough to smell his aftershave. “At this speed you’re gonna turn a fourteen-hour drive into eight. Eager, much?”

“Eager to get this over with,” he inhaled, breathing in the soft array of flowers clinging to her hair. “I want to get the spell from Davina and get out fast.”

“Bad break-up?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Amicable, actually,” he shook his head, passing two trucks.

Bonnie watched the half-tonnes shrink in her mirror before tapping her nail on the gear shift and turning her gaze to him.

“If it was amicable then why’d you bring me?”

“What do you mean?” His jaw clicked. It was the only chink in his calm.

“You don’t need me to retrieve a spell,” she tilted her head, curls bouncing. “I’m clearly a buffer and I wanna know why.”

He passed another car before he sighed.

“Because if the gossip has spread, as I suspect it has, it won’t be anymore.”

~oOo~

She watched the road without seeing the asphalt, taking twists and turns on autopilot. Elena’s dark eyes flashed in her vision with every beat of her heart; she kept hearing the strain behind her even tone.

I might not even need you; it could be another dead end.

Her stomach twisted up tight. Thirteen dead witches tight.

She took a left turn and was momentarily disoriented by the canopy of leaves that covered the winding driveway.

You don’t get to talk like that. There will be no giving up hope, and I am always going to help you. 

She put the car in park, shut it down and hopped out. The door slammed behind her.

Her voice had been too even, too restrained, but her eyes had held the truth.

She paced towards the house and froze, staring up at the towering structure as her mind lingered somewhere back at the Grille. The conversation replayed again and again.

She loved her baby. She possessed the protective instinct to keep her child safe. Anyone who looked at her, who watched her with the infant, could tell how much she loved her. She clearly didn’t hold what had happened against her innocent child, but she saw it in Elena’s eyes.

The haunted gaze of the violated.

And whether she had been physically harmed or not they knew for sure her mind had been invaded.

“Caroline?”

The voices in her head cut off. She stared at him across a sudden ringing silence, sucking in a deep breath that seared her lungs.

“I d… don’t know why I’m here,” she dipped her chin, applying pressure to her chest to keep it from trembling. The brief drive felt like a blur; she had been certain the roads led to the school, and yet.

He stepped lightly onto the drive, moving forward until he could reach out and lift her face.

“What happened?”

She shook her head, gaze focused on the gleam of gold along his jaw. Her shoulders rose in a shrug.

“Caroline, something is wrong,” he moved his hands to her shoulders. “What happened?”

The trembling began somewhere behind her internal organs, spreading out in spasms until it overtook her hands.

“I don’t know,” she shoved her fingers through her hair, dislodging a few roots. The sting helped ground her. “I don’t know, and she doesn’t know, and that’s the whole problem. And it’s all my fucking fault!”

He took a small step back, giving her room to scrub her palms down her face, but kept his hands on her upper arms. His eyes roamed over her as he spoke slowly.

“I think I’m going to need a little more information, love.”

“Why?” She scoffed, tears pooling in her eyes. “It’s my fault!”

A memory tickled the back of her mind.

“And yours!” She shoved him hard; the change in demeanour caught him off guard.

He stumbled.

Confusion turned down the corners of his mouth.

“I was ready to run,” she explained around a sob, “and then you answered Stefan’s phone!”

“Caroline…” he blinked once, mouth popping open.

“Somebody screwed with her memory so she would forget there was a chance she could be pregnant.” Her hands balled into fists.

His mind reeled, trying to keep up with her train of thought. If he had it right they had gone from her self blame to the twins and were now jumping back. Although, how the two points connected remained a mystery to him.

“Elena?” He guessed, brows raising.

“She was only there because of me.” Caroline suddenly spun on her heel and kicked the front tire of her car. Her aggression broke the perfect circle that had once been a rim.

“She went to Brazil for me!” She punctuated each word with another kick.

Klaus wrapped his arms around her upper body, trapping her arms as he pulled her back to prevent her inflicting further damage on her poor vehicle.

Caroline fought futilely, but she knew her chances of actually breaking free when Klaus had no intention of letting her go were non-existent.

Once she calmed down he allowed her the space to turn without letting go. His strong hands remained on her lower back, gently moving up and down in a soothing motion.

“I won’t pretend to know everything, but I can tell you that whatever did happen was not your fault.” He caught her gaze. “Odds are that whoever the person was to affect her memory did so after and unintentionally removed her daughter’s conception.”

A scream of frustration built in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it, and the urge to shove his perfectly reasonable explanation back in his face, down.

“She wants to believe that,” her voice emerged strained, “but it’s not what happened.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” His fingers pressed gently against her spine. “You just claimed that nobody knew.”

“Because she’s my best friend,” she shifted, losing the will to even pretend she didn’t want to lean into his embrace, “and she was only missing for an hour and half, and she’s not easy.”

Tears flooded her eyes again. She made no attempt to stop him from lowering her head to his shoulder where she quickly soaked through his shirt. The gentle pressure of his fingers in her hair brought on more tears; it didn’t matter how many times he claimed otherwise because she knew.

“It’s my fault,” she choked.

~oOo~

The rocking chair’s gentle sway had long since lulled Serena to sleep. It reminded him of calmer days spent between the new world and the old long before air travel entered vogue. Were she a little older with the experiences to make comparisons he would have said the easy glide reminded her of water; something he knew she found soothing.

Anyone else would have placed her in the crib when she drifted off, but he persisted. The motion relaxed him, and he had given his word.

It was the only way Elena would agree to rest. He swore without hesitation to watch the infant throughout the night. He could have done the job just as well from the crib, but it eased his mind having her in his arms where it would be impossible to miss the first signs of dry skin.

And of course, Serena loved to be held; cradled in his arms or those of her mother.

It felt like a dream, snuggling an adorable baby while Elena got much needed rest. He would gladly take whatever mockery his siblings could dish out; it wouldn’t change the fact the he would have happily let the world burn if she stayed safe and never again cried out in anguish.

He hadn’t thought it possible to care for someone so deeply when they lay beyond the bonds of blood.

Marcel, adopted into the family, never found his way in, not completely.

Hayley took months and reminded him on many occasions why he spent so long shielding his heart.

Elena snuck up on him, found a backdoor and changed the locks before he registered what happened. No amount of reinforcement could keep her out because she was already in, not that he had tried after his mother’s ritual. One failed attempt had been enough. She was in and that was that.

He didn’t let people in easily, but one unfocused blink and an uncoordinated fist broke down his walls and built up new ones, reinforcing support around the infant he never wanted to let go of.

Until three weeks ago Hope had been the only one to ever evoke such a response from his heart.

Serena’s even breathing stopped, halting his heartbeat. Panic gripped his chest until her breathing picked up again after a catch.

“Normal,” he breathed, “perfectly normal.”

Hope had stopped breathing many times, giving her parents joint heart attacks; Rebekah called it periodic breathing.

Knowing didn’t keep his heart from stuttering.

“It’s a good thing I’m frozen,” he whispered, brushing a finger over her cheek, “or else you’d be giving me grey hair.”

Her mouth twitched in a smile.

Across the hall Elena shifted in her sleep.

He wondered how much rest she truly gained in the midst of her tossing and turning. He offered her dreamless sleep, and he suspected she might have taken him up on it if the Grille hadn’t put vervain in the decaf coffee she drank during lunch.

He shifted, settling in the chair for a long night, but before he could get comfortable a loud bang came from downstairs. A jolt traveled through him, but Elena hardly registered the noise.once the shock settled he accepted the knock hadn’t been that loud.

The second threatened to knock the newly fixed door from the hinges.

He made his way downstairs, listening to the hiss beyond the front door.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

He recognized the familiar sound of emotional exhaustion in Caroline’s voice as he reached for the doorknob.

“She has a newborn. She’s not asleep.”

He opened the door, smirking when his brother jerked backwards to keep from falling inside the house. He brought his hand down for extra support on the wriggling baby.

“She has, in fact, been asleep for an hour in spite of having a newborn in the house.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing her?” His eyes flickered to Elijah’s arms.

“At this moment in time I am answering the door.” His thumb touched Serena’s soft cheek. He knew the picture he must have painted in his unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up; not even he could have said where his tie and suit jacket had ended up.

“Where’s Elena?” He rolled his eyes.

“Were you not listening? She’s asleep.” His eyes narrowed as Klaus shouldered his way inside and up the stairs before he or Caroline could stop him.

“Niklaus!”

He followed, Caroline on his heels, and pulled his brother away, too late, by the back of his shirt.

Elena blinked through the cobwebs of nightmare fuelled sleep

She sat up, surveying the scene with a sigh.

“I knew I’d regret that invitation.”

~oOo~

Bone deep exhaustion, the kind that gripped in the dead of night when consciousness forced away sleep, gripped her.

She mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, shoving her face into the pillow. Persistent fingers wrapped around the dark fabric of her comforter.

“Hope, wake up.”

The blankets were thrown around her waist, making way for cold air to circle around her upper body.

“No,” she whined, curling into the fetal position.

“Hope!” Hands shook her shoulder.

She cracked open an eye. Under the weight of exhaustion her stare felt less withering. A mop of curly black hair came into view. It took an incredible amount of effort to lift her head and read the bright green numbers of the alarm clock.

“It’s 2:48 in the morning,” she could barely lift her voice above a whisper.

He fidgeted, clutching and smoothing out his sweater. “I have to talk to you.”

“At 2:48 in the morning?” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “I was sleeping.”

She could feel him moving, bouncing with nervous energy. Under normal circumstances, at more reasonable hours, she found his idiosyncrasies adorable, but it was 2:48 in the freaking morning.

She liked sleep.

Scratch that, she loved sleep.

She wanted to remembrance sleep, but his bouncing leg made it impossible.

She peeked again: 3:01.

“Landon,” she dragged out his name.

“I stole something,” he blurted.

Her eyes snapped open as she bolted upright and crossed her arms. She blinked away her bewilderment to study the conflicting emotions on his face.

“I don’t know why I did it,” he hurried, explaining in a whisper, “I don’t even remember doing it.”

“Then how do you know you stole it?” She stifled a yawn.

“Because I remember it from the tour,” he reached into his pocket for a short dagger. “It glowed from my backpack and woke me up.”

“It glowed?” Her sleep addled mind refused to register the significance of his words.

“Bright orange,” he nodded, “like fire.”

“You couldn’t have stolen it,” she rubbed her eyes, coming awake with each word. “There are wards.”

“Then how did I get it?” He countered, emotions going out of control. His eyes tracked her as she stumbled out of bed and shoved her feet into slipper boots. “Where are you going?”

“Coffee,” she cinched a purple robe around her waist, “then find out how you got it.”

Days spent unable to sleep while the Hollow poisoned her body meant she knew the quietest path through the hall, keeping her off the teacher’s radar.

In the kitchen she went through the motions of making coffee between yawns.

“Coffee?” She poured cream and sugar. Her nose wrinkled at the two sweet taste, but she lacked the energy to remake it.

“Aren’t werewolves wide awake at night?” Landon shook his head and followed her into the hall, falling into step at her side.

“Only on full moons,” she whispered. Her hand shot out, fingers clutching the front of his hoodie to stop him. In her mind’s eye she saw the outline of the hot spots as if marked with bioluminescent paint.

“Squeaky floorboards,” she jerked her chin to a closed door, “and Mr. Williams is a light sleeper.”

“So how do we get to the library?” He focused on the dark door less than twenty feet away.

“Follow me and step exactly where I step.” She sat her empty mug on a hall table and began picking her way across the floor. She kept one hand behind her, holding tight to Landon.

Her eyes narrowed when they got close. She stopped up suddenly, nearly tumbling into a wall when Landon ran into her; his arms around her waist saved them a loud bang. Low voices drifted out of the ajar door with a distant light from a lamp.

“I think someone noticed,” she hugged his arms, muttering a spell under her breath to turn them invisible. “Don’t let go.”

~oOo~

Caroline shifted on the bed, smoothing out the material of a striped onesie.

Elena patted Serena’s back absently as she nursed and watched the stacks of clean clothes get higher. The silence stretched out between them until she physically couldn’t take it.

“Care, what’s going on?” She watched her shoulders draw up and elbows tuck in. “Come on, Care. Klaus didn’t barge in here so you could compulsively fold my laundry.”

“If I don’t fold it you’ll put off putting things away and pick up clean stuff from the baskets.” Her eyes darted up and then back to the blanket in her hands. “Why not just hold it when it comes out of the dryer?”

“I have a newborn,” she lifted Serena to burp. Her fingers skimmed the soft skin for any signs of dryness.

“You’ve got Elijah here, if not 24/7 then close to it,” she sighed. Out of laundry, she clasped her hands together in her lap. “Plus the rest of us popping in.”

“Which is what enabled me to do the laundry. I’m not supermom like you.”

“I’m not supermom,” Caroline’s laugh came out watery.

“You were a neurotic control freak before you became a vampire and gained the ability to speed clean,” Elena crossed her legs and held Serena carefully as she placed her in the bassinet by the bed. “I have pictures of the Dallas house and I know Ric is the organized chaos kind. I did live with him. You worked, took care of the twins and kept the house immaculate. You’re supermom, and I may have a little inferiority complex.”

“Why?” Her brows shot up.

“Seriously?” Elena gestured to her bedroom. Books lay scattered across the nightstand, and thanks to Caroline they were the only things out of place. Her journal sat open on the last entry where she had listed the vague details of Serena’s first bath; she still needed to add the dry out.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fingers plucking at a loose thread on the blanket.

“Don’t worry,” she waved a hand, yawning. “I’ll find my groove and eventually get over it.”

“Not that,” her chin quivered.

Elena tilted her head.

“You…” Caroline faltered, reached a hand over to the bassinet. “Elena, you’re only in this position because of me… because I dragged you with me to Brazil. I left you alone.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” she insisted. “I left you in the hotel alone.”

“Where I was safe,” Elena reached for her hands. “I made the choice to leave the room. I decided to go for a walk. When you left me to go to that meeting I was safe.”

“It still feels like my fault,” she shook her head.

“It wasn’t, and I’m fine,” Elena sank against the headboard.

“No, you’re not,” Caroline shifted and sat next to her, careful of the piled fabric. “I know the signs Elena, and now that I know what happened they all make a lot more sense.” She took a deep breath, holding Elena’s hands tighter. “You pulled away from us. You hid what happened. For months you would jump when anyone touched you.”

Elena chewed on her bottom lip.

“I don’t know what happened.” Her stomach trembled.

“Yeah, you do.” Caroline blew out a rush of air. “You’re not one-night-stand-girl Elena, and that should have been my first clue. Somebody violated you, and you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I told Elijah,” she protested in a small voice.

“And if the two of you weren’t the two of you that might actually sting.” Tears burned in her eyes. “I guess I can’t blame you for not telling me sooner… I never told you.”

“Care?” Her heart stuttered with foreboding. “Oh my God, Care.”

She sat up.

“He… he convinced me I wanted it, and after I turned he made me think it was my fault,” she whispered in a hollow voice. “And then rituals and hybrids complicated things. You got a sire bond and I convinced myself it was better for you, and everyone else, not to know.”

“I…” Elena swallowed. “Caroline, I… I thought he was just feeding on you; that’s why Stefan helped me get you on vervain. If I.. if I had known I wouldn’t have… I would have told him to go to hell.” Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“I know,” she felt a sob in the back of her throat.

The slid down in the bed, laying side-by-side. She curled an arm around Elena’s waist and blinked back her own tears to focus on the shimmering brown eyes of her best friend.

“Call it even?” She grimaced at her lame attempt to joke.

Elena’s laugh caught on a sob. “The other option is to say ‘I-hate-you’ and go our separate ways.”

“We’re beyond the point of leaving each other,” Caroline sighed. “Forgive me?”

“I never blamed you, but yes.” She hugged her close. “Forgive me?”

“I was bitter for a while, and genuinely terrified for you, but I already forgave you.” Caroline managed a half-smile. “And you seemed happy enough when you turned it back on and the bond was gone.”

Elena lowered her eyes, cuddling closer.

“What is it?” Her eyes narrowed.

“It wasn’t gone,” she whispered. “Damon didn’t want to hear that it was still there so I lied. And to make sure he never found out I lied to everyone.”

Caroline was silent for a long while, digesting the information. When she did speak it was in a decidedly calm voice.

“Do you think if we told Bonnie she could find a way to bring him back so we can kill him?”

“I think a spell like that could kill her,” she shook her head. Exhaustion beckoned her close.

“Best to let sleeping dogs lie,” she shut her eyes.

~oOo~

If she had accurately kept count it was her fourth yawn. Stifling it brought tears to her eyes, blurring the store fronts and street signs into a solid block of multiple colours. Several quick blinks brought her surroundings into crystal clear focus.

She saw the ceiling of the car with perfect clarity.

Her fingers curled around the warm wool covering her from chin to knee, mapping the dark blue material down to where it bunched near her hips and protected her from the sharp dig of the belt buckle.

“You covered me up,” she mumbled. Her fingers fumbled near the door, hunting for the lever that would raise her into a seated position again.

She saw him shrug from the corner of her eye as she rose.

“You looked cold.”

“And laid me down?” The seat snapped up, hitting her back with a dull thud.

“There would have been a crick in your neck otherwise.” He pulled into a parking space.

“Did you speed up again?” She squinted at the dash clock.

“Yes,” he turned off the ignition, “because if I stuck to your speed we wouldn’t have gotten here until 10 in the morning.”

“That’s not right,” she sighed. Her stomach growled, reminding her of the last meal she ate before they left Mystic Falls.

“What is right?”

Her mind scrambled. She carried ones and sevens and put decimals in the wrong places before admitting the fog in her brain was to dense for simple addition so she held no hope of mentally working a complex problem at 4 in the morning without chemical assistance.

“I’ll tell you after coffee.”

A shiver travelled up her body when she stepped onto the street; Kol’s jacket settled on her shoulders. Standing made the material swing around the bottom of her thighs, lower than half of the dresses in her closet.

“You’re tall,” she garbled around a yawn.

“And you’re very articulate before coffee,” he chuckled, steering her with a hand on the small of her back. “Come on, love.”

Bonnie made no comment to the physical contact, though he suspected an earful after the caffeine hit her bloodstream. Then again, she had never scolded his behaviour during Elena’s labour.

They crossed through the familiar green of Jackson Square. It was as deserted as any place in New Orleans could be during the early hours of the morning.

A handful of people occupied a handful of tables in the café that would bustle with energy in a handful of hours.

He left Bonnie beneath a green and white awning, sitting in a dark green chair.

She blinked at her surroundings.

He wondered from his place at the counter if the wrinkle in her brow was the result of attempting more mental math or if her confusion came from the sudden stillness.

She startled when he returned with two steaming cups and two orders of beignets.

Her throat released a pleased hum when she sipped the coffee. She had finished half the cup before he made it through the first beignet.

“I thought you two were living in San Francisco.” Bonnie picked up a beignet.  Warmth radiated beneath the layer of powdered sugar.

“Were you keeping track of me daring?” He took a bite to mask his smirk.

“It’s always best to know where the hurricane’s brewing.”

He huffed.

Powdered sugar blew out in a cloud, dotting her cheeks with ghostly freckles that she swiped away before eating her own beignet.

Her eyes went round.

“We were in San Francisco, but Davina moved back here after we ended things since her magic is stronger here.”

“All magic is,” she murmured, watching the tiny hairs rise on her hand. “I can feel it humming under my skin like electricity. It’s making the air static.”

“I remember that feeling,” he nodded. At her confused frown he explained about the months spent in the body of Kaleb. “It was another attempt of my mother’s to kill her children; only in body though.”

“Glad she didn’t succeed. Though, I do admire her commitment to her goals.” She polished off the first beignet. “And 8 am.”

“8 am?” He tilted his head.

“That’s when we should have arrived.” Over the rim of her cup her eyes sparkled. “You took four hours off of the drive, maniac.”

“Psychotic maniac.”

Kol froze, cup halfway to his mouth, eyes darting towards the new voice. She stood watching them with crossed arms and a curious expression.

“Davina,” he greeted, lowering his mug.

“Kol,” she nodded, shifting her weight onto her heels. “What are you doing here?”

“At the moment I am plying Bonnie here with caffeine and sugar,” he cleared his throat. “Then I was going to look for you.”

“You drove through the night like a maniac to find me?” Her eyes darted briefly to Bonnie as her brows lowered; her gaze flicked to his daylight ring. “This have anything to do with the rumours about Rebekah?”

Bonnie traced the white cover on her cup, noting how the colour momentarily matched his complexion.

“I came for a spell…”

“So Rebekah’s not human?” Davina cut in, pressing her fingers into her arms.

“She is…” he cleared his throat.

Information slotted in place from their conversation at the hospital until his comment about rumours and amicable splits made sense.

“Oh my…” her fingers flew to her open mouth. “You never told her about the cure.”

Davina didn’t want to turn. Kol didn’t want to turn.

Kol knew every option. Davina knew one.

“There’s a cure?” She took a step towards the table. “How long have you known about it?”

“Sorry,” Bonnie mouthed her apology.

“Kol?” Davina prompted and when he didn’t answer she turned her focus to Bonnie. “Do you know?”

“I…” she chewed her bottom lip, eyes darting from one to the other. Her nail scratched at the Café logo on her cup. “I’m a little fuzzy on the history. Wasn’t it the twelfth century when you heard the rumours?”

“Early twelfth,” he nodded.

“I don’t care about rumours. I care about the facts.” Heat flared in her eyes. “How long have you known?”

He inhaled slowly and tipped his cup around, addressing his answer to the powdered sugar dotting the table.

“I have known where to find it for nearly eight years, and I knew where to look when I was possessing Kaleb.”

Jazz filled the ensuing silence. When Bonnie dared to look up it was into the face of indignation a split second before Davina Claire spun on her heel and stormed out.

“She’s not gonna give you anything now is she?” Bonnie sighed. She got to her feet when he shook his head and left him at the table.

Davina’s maroon jacket flashed between the locals on their way to work.

She ran around the people and after her, bemoaning her shoe choices.

“Wait up,” she called, gasping for breath.

Against all odds Davina listened.

She caught up and sucked in large gulps of air as she whipped off the now too warm coat; Davina’s eyes settled on the fabric.

“I’m not giving him anything.” She crossed her arms.

“Then give it to me,” Bonnie’s breath puffed clouds in the air. “My best friend, we’re practically sisters, just had a baby and because of magical interference she doesn’t remember how she got pregnant. Elijah says you’ve worked with memory before; you can help her.”

“Why don’t you just ask her boyfriend, or retrace her steps?” Davina uncrossed her arms.

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and retracing her steps doesn’t give answers.” Bonnie rubbed a stitch in her side, mentally making a note to get in shape again. “All signs point to someone hurting her.”

Davina glanced beyond her shoulder; Bonnie looked back to find Kol on the street.

“He could have told me,” her eyes narrowed.

“Could’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” Bonnie sighed. She kind of understood why; Davina had refused to entertain the idea of being a vampire, and Kol didn’t want to be human. He wouldn’t compromise when she wouldn’t consider the more obvious option.

“This has nothing to do with him though. This has to do with a woman who’s hurting and in desperate need of answers. So help me to help her.”

She drew deep breaths, looking Bonnie up and down hesitantly.

“The Originals have a house in town, right?” Bonnie tucked her hair behind her ear.

“The Abattoir,” Davina nodded.

“Okay, so we’ll be around until tomorrow morning,” she gestured over her shoulder. “Come morning we’ll leave again, and I’m hoping it will be with one of your spells.”

She left Davina standing in the square and walked back, coming to a stop in front of Kol.

“Withholding information? Really?” She handed him his coat.

“This information wouldn’t have made a difference in our situation for many reasons that I told you weeks ago.” He touched the bridge of her nose; his thumb came away with powdered sugar. “I saw no point in revealing the information and my reluctance to take the cure.”

“Why not?” She fell into step beside him.

“I knew it was over, but she still made a formidable ally. Why introduce animosity?”

“I guess I can see your point,” she nodded, eyes darting around the street. “Twenty-four hours in New Orleans… what to do?”

“I’ve got a handful of books I want to grab,” he shrugged, “maybe there will be a spell in one for when Davina doesn’t deliver.”

“Have a little faith.” She swayed, nudging his side.

“People these days don’t have faith,” he snorted.

“You’re not exactly of these days though,” she teased.

“Are you calling me old?” He opened the passenger door.

“I’m calling you ancient,” she flashed a quick smile. Her hand curled around the top of the door, brushing his fingers as she did; a tingle raced up her arm.

“Age brings experience, darling,” he took a step, boxing her in the space between door and car.

Her heart skipped.

“Not necessarily wisdom,” she breathed. Her eyes flickered to the smirk overtaking his lips.

“First I’m ancient and now I’m a fool?” He tilted his head.

“Your timing could be better,” she tilted her head, holding his gaze.

“I happen to have excellent timing.”

“Prove it.”

His hand settled on her waist, pulling her body to him.

Her palms settled on his chest above his beating heart.

Her touch starved skin tingled everywhere their bodies met. She thought she might analyze that further, but then his mouth captured hers in a slow kiss.

He tasted of coffee and beignets; the combination sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she stood on tiptoe to get closer.

He pulled back, brushing a second kiss along her bottom lip that left her breathless.

Her lashes fluttered against her cheek. She stared a beat too long at his lips.

He noticed and smirked.

Could he smell what his kiss had done to her, or was the press of her body enough?

She struggled to think beyond the sensation of his strong fingers pressing deliciously into her hips and came up with a single word.

“B-books?”

++++

“This couldn’t have waited until the sun came up?” Elijah traced the rim of his mug. The white ceramic held a heavenly blend of coffee the he purchased after Elena compiled a mountain of research into the effects of caffeine on breast fed infants. Not the he doubted her; the information was to convince Caroline when she inevitably found the bag of coffee.

“I couldn’t allow Caroline to sink further into her guilt.” Klaus stared out over the lake, vaguely illuminated in the pre-dawn. “It would have consumed her and destroyed half the mansion in the process. Your desk lays in ruins, by the way… not that you’re ever there to notice.”

“I’m at the mansion all the time,” he looked up and then down, fascinated by the grain in the patio table.

“You have been there for a grand total of sixty-three hours in the last twenty-one days. Three hours in which you sleep, shower and change.” Klaus scoffed.

“You know we don’t require much sleep, Niklaus.” He mused, tilting his head.

A slim vial of bright green weighed down his pocket. He had yet to find a suitable storage solution for the precious spell that felt safest on his person.

“How many of those other hours were spent here?” He took a drink of coffee.

“I’ve lost track,” he shrugged. “Most of my time is spent here when I am not on the phone with various contacts in and around Brazil.”

“Brazil,” Klaus nodded, crossing one leg over the other as he tapped the table with a finger, “so you know?”

Elijah nodded, already having worked out that Caroline told him; he had thought the information would be leaked by Kol first.

“She told me a few hours before you arrive to beg her help.” The wind ruffled the water. “I was looking for answers. It has recently become apparent that the information needs to be found sooner rather than later.”

“Why? Did the bastard gift her something more than an unwanted child?” His expression darkened.

“No, Niklaus,” he lifted his chin. If his brother’s expression was dark his own was thunderous. “And you will not refer to Serena as such again. She is wanted even if the circumstances surrounding her conception are not.”

Klaus went silent for a moment, letting the anger run its course. The cold fury rivalled the rage his brother had sported the night he awoke after the ritual.

“Very well,” he finally said, “you would know better of that situation, after all, practically living here.”

“I am not living here.” Elijah returned his attention to the lake.

“I said: ‘practically’,” he smirked, “you’re too comfortable with the girl to not be, and don’t think I didn’t notice that you restocked the pantry.” He sipped his cup and raised both eyebrows. “The coffee blend is a dead give-away.”

The wind kicked up.

“She’s been a little too busy to run to the store.”

“With the daughter who now requires answers,” Klaus hummed. “Will you be explaining that one?”

“Serena is not entirely… human, he studied the stain at the bottom of the cup.

“Obviously not,” he snorted, “her mother is a gypsy and a doppelgänger.”

“And she is something else.”

“Something else? What else is there?” Klaus shifted, leaning over the table. “No supernatural species can make themselves apparent at that age. Unless it’s a werewolf who killed their mother in childbirth, but those children never survive the first shift.”

“She’s not a wolf, and she’s not a witch,” he frowned. “There’s some gypsy magic from Elena, but something else is dominant.”

“There is nothing else, Elijah.”

“Then I suppose there’s not point in showing you the pictures,” he set down his mug.

“What pictures?” Low growls drowned out his question.

Wind blew down, flattening their hair beneath a fast moving shadow.

Klaus looked up, sensing Elijah doing the same.

His mind struggled to accept the physical evidence blotting out the light. He reached blindly for Elijah’s arm, afraid to take his eyes off the impossibility for even a second.

“Are you seeing this?”

Jou’s never been a quiet lover. It’s impossible for him to stop the moans and whines that come naturally when he’s being fucked. They pour out of him like a waterfall of expression, impossible to completely silence even with gags.

But this is an entirely new level of loud. He’s practically howling as Red fucks him, his entire hand balled into a fist and shoved inside him. Tears leak from his eyes, his hand are fisted in the sheets, knuckles white from the pressure of his grip. 

They need to stretch him out if ever plans to take Red’s full girth, and this is only the next step. The mix of pain/pleasure is mind blowing and Jou’s have difficulty concentrating on anything beside the other’s hand thrusting into him, practically punching into him. He’s stretched wider than he’s ever been in his life, and Red’s knuckles drag against his prostate on every thrust.

It’s driving him insane.

“F-fuck, Red-” he gasps out, biting down on the comforter as another wave of burning pleasure rolls through him. 

“Shut up,” Red demands with a rougher thrust of his fist, drawing a choked cry from the smaller male. “If you can’t take this, you can’t take me. Can you take it?”

“I - y-yes-” Jou whines, back arching. Red grins and shoves in harder, faster, rougher.

“Then take it.”