Hi Klamon fans, remember me? xD I'm back from my break now, and I've got a new story for you all. :-) I'm not gonna say too much except, please review with your thoughts as a story needs feedback to continue.

Just to give everyone a time-stamp, as said in the summary, it's set from 3x14 onwards, and if any of you are underage and reading this (I'm only fourteen and I've wrote this so I suppose I can't really judge) remember the warnings. ;-)

Damon was fuming as he exited the mansion's library, shoving angrily past Stefan. He wasn't as mad at his brother as he usually would have been for snapping his neck, as he was at Elena for orchestrating it and using the fact that Stefan would do anything for her to her own gain to get him to do it.

She already used Damon's love for her own gain, she could at least do them both a favour and not turn into a present-day Katherine. But Damon knew it was too late, he was beginning to lose his ability to tell the difference between the two of them.

He caught sight of Elena by the regal-looking staircase and was clenching his fists to quell his desire to rip her into shreds as he angrily strode over to her, angrily spitting out an, "Elena," to which she turned around at, her facial expression showing she was clearly peeved his broken neck didn't keep him down for longer.

"Did you get what you want?" he asked her through gritted teeth, trying not to let his anger manifest into the beast that she frequently chastised him for. Why was he trying so hard to please her when she had done nothing but reject him and break his heart?

"Actually, yes," she said quietly, avoiding making eye-contact with him. Could she not just see he had wanted her safe? Although in his angry state, he could see there was no longer any point in it. From now on he was leaving it to his brother and the endless line of people ready to die for her.

"Good, tell me on the ride home," he said harshly, grabbing a hold of her arm, surprised her fragile bones weren't snapping. "We're leaving. Come on." He began to pull her away, but he felt her resisting, her fingers closing around his arm. He glared at her heatedly, his ire raising and burning further.

"Uh no, Damon let go of me," she ordered, yanking her arm out of his grip at the same moment he begrudingly decided to release her to avoid causing another scene that had Stefan running to Elena's aid. "Look, I'm sorry that I had to cut you out of the plan-"

"There shouldn't be a plan," he spat. Cut him out of the plan? She had conspired with his brother to snap his neck; that brought 'cutting him out of the plan' to a new, ridiculous level. "You shouldn't be here," he told her firmly, locking eyes with her, but in that direct moment, hers slipped downwards once more, clearly feeling either annoyed that she had been found out or guilty. Damon guessed it was the latter.

"Do you think I like going behind your back?" she asked, "I don't." Her tone didn't sound sorry, more like a spoiled brat who couldn't see that she had an entire line of people ready to protect and die for her. He was offically taking himself off that list; she didn't deserve his love or protection. "But if I hadn't asked Stefan to help, then you would've tried to be the hero, and you would've ruined everything," she said like this entire affair was his fault. Why was she only taking it out on him when Stefan had came here too?

"Sorry for trying to keep you alive," he apologised sarcastically, remembering that even she had been nervous about seeing Esther; she had nearly killed her once. "Clearly Stefan doesn't give a crap anymore," he added. He really didn't know about his brother's priorities anymore, or if he actually had his humanity on. He had nearly driven Elena of a bridge and part of Damon found himself wishing Stefan hadn't stopped the car.

"Now you're mad at me for including Stefan?" she asked incredulously.

"No, I'm mad at you becauseI love you!" he yelled at her. How could she not see that? He had told her, although not physically, expressing his humanity for her, yet she repeatedly chose his brother over him; the one who hurt her and lied to her right from the beginning of their relationship.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took a small step back, finally looking at him indignantly and breathing, "Well, maybe that's the problem."

Damon's glare hardened, yet he felt like a large weight was being thrown off his chest and he was being deflated. Something broke inside him, but he ignored it. How was him protecting her and saving her life because he loved her a problem? She should be grateful; he had no interest in helping her when he had first met her, he couldn't understand why he had fallen in love with her in the first place, she was just another Katherine, in looks and in actions. But it didn't make the fact that both women preferred his brother any less painful.

Elena gave him a pitying look, just now realising the effects her words had on him. "No. That's not what I-"

"No, I got it, Elena," he cut her off in an emotionless tone. "I care too much, I'm a liabality." The was the most ironic thing he had ever said in his life. He had gone soft, stopped killing, because of her and she couldn't even notice. She was too busy chasing after Stefan, trying to get him off human blood so he could be the true love she wanted and was holding an immortal, never-changing picture in her mind.

"How ironic is that?" he asked himself suddenly, feeling dizzy.

"Have you guys seen Matt?" Caroline's soft voice interrupted him before he could speak again and launch into a massive tirade that would call Elena out on all her indiscretions towards him and everyone else around her. What made her so high and mighty that she could treat people like crap or like they were beneath her?

Damon scoffed, looking between Caroline and Elena, leaving the teen drama to the teenagers. He was in desperate need of alchohol and something to take his aggression out on. And spotting Kol lurking in the shadows near the balcony made Damon decide then and there that the Original was just the thing he needed.

"Matt," Kol whispered as the blond quarterback, scrubbing up very nicely in a tuxedo that was no doubt a rental, walked out onto the balcony, no doubt looking for Barbie Klaus.

"Good evening, you're Rebekah's friend," Kol introduced himself warmly, although Damon knew there was something devilish glimmering in his eyes that gave the whole friendly apparel away. "We haven't met."

"Matt Donovan," he said with a smile, extending his hand forwards.

"Kol Mikaelson," he said as their hands met.

Damon's ears pricked up to the sound of cracking bones and Matt's pained grunts as he was fighting to stay on his feet.

"Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey," Damon interjected as Kol squeezed Matt's hand a final time, making him fall on the ground. "Easy on the hand, guy's a quarterback," he said in a tone that implied he cared; he didn't, he just needed a reason to attack Kol. Or did he?

Kol looked up at him, a sneer curving his lip into an ugly looking smirk. They locked eyes in a silent stand-off and Damon sped forwards, ignoring Matt who was laying on the floor, shoving Kol off the balcony. He grabbed onto the railing, launching himself over it and landing on the ground with surprising technique.

He smashed a back-hand into the Original's face, stunning him long enough to climb ontop of him and pin him to the pavement, and grappled with him furiously, fingers scrabbling for his neck. Damon finally managed to get a firm grip on Kol's chin, jerking it to the side, cleanly snapping his head.

The Mansion's front door's burst open and all the Mikaelsons - - Stefan and Elena rushed out to see what the commotion was about. Damon quickly scrambled up, hiding Kol's motionless body from view in case anyone who wasn't a Mikaelson, or aware of vampires or one of them, came out along with the rabble.

"Damon!" Stefan yelled, running over to him and smacking him on the arm. "Are you crazy?" He grabbed him, shaking him slightly. Damon shoved him off, making him stumble back a few steps.

"Maybe a little," he grinned sadistically at him, then he turned to Elena, spotting her expression of disbelief and annoyance through the crowd. "Far be it for me to cause a problem." That last sentence was directed at her earlier words, forcing her to admit the reality of them, but all she did was look at him like a petulant child acting out, which only made him angrier.

He needed to be away from all this; away from her and her pathetic back and forth descisions and ridiculous judgements about things she didn't understand.

He found himself at the Grill and sliding into his usual bar stool in a matter of seconds. He was lucky there were no brunette women were around, otherwise they would have been ripped to shreds; an ode to Miss Elena Gilbert.

"What can I get you, Sir?" the bartender asked, coming up to him whilst cleaning a dirty glass.

"Tequlia." His current predicament called for something much stronger than his usual glass of bourbon; it wasn't everyday he was told by someone, someone he loved so blindly and recklessly, that his love was a problem. But the truth was, it was a problem for her when it inconvieniced her and when it didn't, she accepted it - meaning she could use him to do something - and filled him with false hope that she might choose him.

The bartender reached behind him, sliding a bottle of tequila towards him. "Here you are," he smiled before moving off to the other end of the bar to serve the next customer.

Damon sighed in relief and moved to close his fingers around the bottle's neck, but frowned in confusion when his fingers rested on another hand, already holding the bottle. "Look buddy," he began, not bothering to look at the idiot who was about to take his alchohol. "That's mine, and I don't really want a fight," he said, not in the mood for anymore teenage dramas.

"Is that because you know you'll lose?" came Klaus' warm British accent. Damon froze and turned around, looking into the cold, grey eyes and perfectly sculpted face of the Original Hybrid.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in bewilderment. He had only ever seen Klaus at the Grill to either stir things up or cause havoc. It struck Damon odd that he would be here for recreational pleasures, especially since he was sure his Mansion had it's own private bar.

"Funny, I could ask the same of you," Klaus smiled civilly at him while sliding into the bar stool next to him. He took the bottle from Damon's grip and he frowned.

He was about to launch into a massive tirade to Klaus about touching another man's alcohol, but all he could manage was a, "Hey," as he opened the bottle, deciding to put matters at rest once he saw Klaus pouring them both a glass of tequila. "Thanks," he said as Klaus slid one his way, downing a little in his haste.

"Care to tell me exactly why I found my little brother lying outside the steps of my Mansion with a broken neck?" Klaus asked with an accusing stare. Damon licked his lips, staying quiet. He had dishonoured one of the oldest vampire's in the world and he was a part of Klaus' family. Telling him why would not go down well, no matter how legitmate his reasons seemed before hand.

Klaus wasted no time in grabbing his throat, forcing a strangled gasp from his throat. He choked and struggled, but Klaus wasn't letting up. "Okay," he gave over, not wanting a repeat of Chicago since the only subsitute for a cocktail stick was a metal pole. "Okay..." he gasped as Klaus finally released him. "He was the first thing in sight," he said, rubbing his throat.

"Becoming reckless again are we?" Klaus chuckled at him with a hint of admiration in his voice and it pained Damon to think he really was becoming soft because of Elena. "You know, that suits you, rather than this whole lost-puppy dog persona," he said, raising his own glass to his mouth.

"You're one to talk," Damon interjected, "chasing after blonde, baby vampires who have no interest in you." He noticed Klaus had gone rigid and the glass had frozen mid-way to his lips.

Klaus set the glass down with a small thud, his hand twitching almost angrily. "Alright, so you already know what's riled me tonight," he said and Damon couldn't help but chuckle, recieving a death glare. "But's what's wrong with you?" Klaus asked and Damon's face dropped while his nails sliced into the wood of the bar. Klaus' eyes widened a little in surprise.

"Why do you care?" he bit out angrily.

"Personally, I don't if we're being open about things," Klaus said with light snark in his voice. "But since it caused you to snap my brother's neck and dishonour him in ways that will have him coming after you, I thought I might ask," he responded, shooting him a small smile.

"Elena," he said softly, looking down.

"Ah yes," Klaus began with a smile boarder-lining on amused, although Damon found the situation anything but amusing. "And what is it that she's done now?" he asked as if he had heard of her many indiscretetions. He has no idea, Damon thought with a roll of his eyes.

"Told me I'm a problem who cares too much," Damon said bitterly.

"Oh, Damon Salvatore, a caring problem," Klaus chuckled in surprise, like he had been told a good joke, but to Damon, him caring was no joke whatsoever. "Never thought I'd see that day," he mused. "Although you have been losing your touch lately," he told him. Didn't Damon know it.

"What do you know about me?" Damon asked, it coming out much icier than he had meant it to; but he did have a point. What did Klaus know about him? They had only known each other for a few months.

"I know plently about you," Klaus said in a tone that made Damon's knees go weak under the bar. He was curious though, so he let him go on. "At one point, you were worse than your brother, which is impressive to say the least, since you can actually control your thirst," he marvelled and Damon knew that was a compliment, although it didn't seem like one; Klaus had loved Stefan's ripper side, but Damon had been worse at one point, wiping out an entire established, on-the-map village, making his brother's alter-ego - the Ripper of Monteray - seem insignificant.

"Now I'm choosing to because of my problematic love for someone who doesn't even appreciate it," he said dryly, not knowing why he was rehasing it. He came here to drown his sorrows in tequila, not re-live them with an immortal enemy of his.

"Now he realises it," Klaus said in exasperation, seemingly more to himself than Damon.

"You're in the same boat," Damon pointed out indigniatly, not wanting to be made out to be the only one at fault. "You like Caroline and she clearly couldn't give one," he pointed out. "Although she hates you, Elena's just confused and mad at me right now," he reticfied, unsure of how long her little temper tantrum would last before the guilt began to kick in.

"Seems like she doesn't want to give you the time of day either," Klaus smiled wryly at him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and find a release." He didn't give Damon a second glance, and Damon felt strange; he didn't want Klaus to leave, he was the only person who remotely understood him and had been through similar situations to him.

The next words were out of Damon's mouth before he could stop them, "You're angry, I'm angry. Use me." The idea seemed strange, but Damon didn't know why. They were both single, both angry, and both had been rejected - Damon saw so much of himself in Klaus it was unreal - the women they loved on the same night, yet Damon knew it was really a disguised attempt at getting Klaus to stay.

"That's a very tempting offer." Klaus turned around to look at him, eyes studying him up and down in a way that had Damon fighting a blush, as if sizing him up. "Considering you snapped my brother's neck and you tried to order me around in terms of my hybrids at last week's Council party," he went on in a reprimanding stare.

Damon chuckled uneasily before smirking and asking smugly, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes," Klaus affirmed in a quick tone, as if he was embarassed to say so. "But let's get a few things straight first, shall we?" he said, sounding like a corprate boss.

"Like?" Damon asked, motioning for him to continue.

"No strings attached," Klaus informed him. "This is only happening because either of us need a release, an outlet of some sort regarding the women of our affections, no other reason," he said firmly.

"You say it like there would be," Damon responded coolly, secretly excited with the thrill of diving into the unknown, taking a walk on the wild - if Klaus was a wolf, then it would definetely be rough - side and dancing with the Devil.

"So then," Klaus began with a smile, holding up his glass. "It would seem we have ourselves a deal," he murmured.

"Seems we do." Their glasses chinked together, sealing their deadly deal. Nobody was going to like it, but screw them, nobody needed to know except the two of them.

Their eyes locked, full of unreserved passion and cloaked by anger, before Klaus pulled Damon into his lips, melding them together in a heated kiss.