Sorry about the POV change in the last chapter. I will be continuing this in the first-person point-of-view of Alaric. Sincere apologies if the abrupt shift jarred anyone. I should've proofread. Anyway, if you enjoy, if you hate, please give me some criticism or feedback in the reviews J Enjoy! DALARIC FOREVER!

WARNING- BOYxBOY, rated M

I woke up feeling more rested than usual, and, surprisingly, not hung-over. I blinked my eyes open, prepared for the brightness of the sun cutting through my window. Instead, my eyes met with a pale wall of alabaster skin. I jumped, not expecting someone in my bed. The memories of last night flooded back to me with frightening clarity. Dinner, kissing, bed, sex… I winced, not wanting to remember any more. But still, Damon had never stayed in my bed. I never expected he'd be here when I woke up.

My eyes roamed up to his face. His eyelashes were resting on his cheek. He was asleep? I never expected Damon would spend the night, not to mention be asleep when I woke up! The whole thing was uncanny and disconcerting. I didn't know how to feel about it. Speaking of feeling, Damon's arm was draped over my torso, weighing me down. There was no way I was getting up without waking him, but I had to get ready for school. I had to clear my head…

I reluctantly leaned over to shake Damon awake.

"BOO!" His baritone voice echoed in the otherwise silent bedroom, and his cerulean eyes flashed open, dancing in amusement. I nearly fell off the bed, scrambling backward in surprise. It was too early for this shit.

"Damon! What the fuck!" I shouted, adrenaline pumping in my veins as if I'd almost fallen down a set of stairs.

"Oh, lighten up. I thought you were going to sleep forever! Give me props for patience!" Damon was still laughing. I was scowling. I set out to head to the bathroom, abandoning him on the bed. Of course, nothing with Damon could ever be that easy.

He pulled me by the arm back onto the bed and kissed me-fucking kissed me!-before letting me go. It took all I had not to sprint out of the room.

I splashed cold water on my face. What was happening? Damon in my bedroom? Damon giving me a good morning peck? What. The. Actual. Fuck. Not to mention, Damon and I fucking the night before. I moaned in confusion and defeat. I had no control over this situation whatsoever. What was I supposed to do? On one hand, I thought I might be in love with Damon. On the other hand, I knew that was utterly impossible and I should find any way to get him to stop this nonsense before someone got hurt. In typical male fashion, I decided to brush my teeth and stop thinking. I only half-heartedly hoped that when I exited my bathroom Damon would be gone. I had no fucking clue what I wanted anymore.

My school day passed in a blur. I had conflicting issues with focus. I had slept better than normal, so I was well rested, but I couldn't stop thinking about a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed vampire who had been sucking the life out of me sporadically for the past two weeks. Overall the day was better than normal. Elena and Jeremy both passed in and out of my classroom according to schedule. I pasted on my usual smile to try to cheer them up. They'd both gone through so much. Losing their parents, their aunt, pretty much everyone who cared about them except me and the Salvatore brothers.

On my way to my piece-of-shit car, I saw Elena and Jeremy getting into something sporty that definitely didn't belong to them. My first instinct was to yell for them to stop, but then I realized the owner of the car was Damon. He so rarely drove, I'd forgotten what his ride even looked like. Then, a pang of jealousy hit me as I saw his trademark white smirk directed at Elena as she climbed in the front. I sharply turned and forced myself into my car without looking back. Of course, how could I have forgotten? Damon loved Elena. He wanted Elena.

I drove to the Gilbert house. It was my custom, on days I wasn't held up at school until it was dark to go to Elena's and act as a pseudo-guardian for the night. I usually just ended up sitting there drinking coffee while they worked on homework or fiddled with their phones. However, it was a custom that let the three of us believe that we had some form of family left. It was a thin delusion, but one none of us were willing to give up. I pulled into the driveway, parking next to Damon's car. Great. Mr. Eternal Stud was here. I shouldn't have been surprised, he was usually here on family night. Hell, he was lonely too.

"Elena, Jeremy?" I yelled upon opening the front door. It wasn't locked, but then again, the most fearful intruders couldn't get in unless invited anyway.

"Hey Alaric." Elena said to me, breezing through the hallway and into the family room. I followed in her wake, entering the room where Jeremy and Damon were already preoccupied with video games. Surprisingly, it was competitive between the two. Damon had better reflexes but wasn't used to the games. Jeremy had the experience of the average shut-in high school boy…which is to say, a lot.

Elena decided to make small talk until the two guys were out of their technologically induced focus comas.

"So, Stefan wanted me to come over tonight…I know it's family night and all but we never get to spend any time alone so…" She looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Elena, I'm not your dad. You can go where you want, I can't stop you." I said with my palms held upward. Elena smiled bitter sweetly, acknowledging the truth to my statement. Her dad was dead. She had no male authority figure to make the rules now. I felt guilty for pointing it out, so I decided to play the part just to make her feel a bit better.

"Go on, Elena, get outta here. I'll see ya at school tomorrow." I managed to gruffly spout. God. I was awful at the father thing. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door. I heard a car leave the driveway. Stefan must've been waiting for her outside. I laughed softly, she knew me too well.

Damon looked back over his shoulder, watching her leave. I couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. Was he angry that she was leaving, that he wouldn't get to spend a night in with her? I couldn't help but internally feel happy that she was with Stefan. That gave me a better chance, right? I hypothetically smacked myself. Damon and I would NEVER be like that. Not that I would even want us to. And I wasn't going to be some replacement. Nope. So Damon could just kiss that notion goodbye.

I sat there for a few more minutes. No one was talking. Damon and Jeremy were barely moving. All I could hear were the clicking of controllers and guns on the game itself. I decided there was no point in sitting here any longer. I was bored, Damon was obviously completely ignoring me, enamored more with video games and Elena. But honestly, what had I been expecting? This wasn't an unpleasant surprise, this was just another day in the life of Alaric Saltzman. And, like any other typical day, it was going to end with me feeling lonely, drunk, and forgotten. I twirled my keys around my finger and made my way to the front door.

"Alaric? Where you going?" The boyish voice of Jeremy sounded from the living room.

"I'm heading home, Jer. Got papers to grade." I smoothly lied, casting one last glance at the pair before opening the door. Damon was turned, staring at me. His icy blue eyes told me nothing. Then, he turned back to the TV, and I jammed my keys into the ignition and sped home.

My loft felt like an ice box. I told myself it was just to warm up, but I knew the real reason I held a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand. I needed to escape my own damn mind. My own stupidity. I sat down in my armchair and emptied a glass of the fiery liquid. Then another. And another. It was easy to forget this way. I could forget the way my life had left me to become a vampire, the way my neck had been snapped more than once before I magically sprung back to life, the way the people of Mystic Falls fell around me like flies while I carried on, worth less than each and every one of them. But I was just wallowing. When you feel sad about one thing you feel sad about everything.

With that, I passed out in the chair.

I groaned groggily upon regaining consciousness. I didn't really remember last night. I remembered getting drunk. I blocked out the reason. It was too early for that shit.

Light filtered in the curtains, I could feel it on my cheek. It was almost peaceful. It felt like a crime to move my head from its spot on the pillow and disrupt the path of the early morning glow. It illuminated the insides of my eyelids-wait. Light? Pillow? My living room didn't have any windows; it was in the interior of the loft. And my armchair certainly didn't have a pillow.

My eyes shot open, met with the whitewashed walls of my bedroom. How the hell had I gotten here? I definitely knew I'd passed out in the chair. Then I felt it.

There was something resting lightly on my hip. There was something buried softly against my back. No.

But it was. I knew from the smell, from the pressure. Damon was in my bed, next to me. His hand was holding my hip and his floppy, black hair was pressed against my back, his body curled to me like a child. I could tell that he was actually asleep by the way his chest barely rose and fell. Like this, I could believe that Damon was like a child, a fallen cherub who'd gained evil beauty on the descent to earth. He was fucking beautiful. But right now he was in my bed, and I was trying desperately to remember if we'd done anything last night.

While seizing the rare opportunity to stare at Damon without him knowing, I noticed that he had boxers on. I looked down at myself and I was wearing a gray t-shirt and long sweatpants. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that if Damon and I had had participated in any, erm, amorous activities, there was no way I'd be wearing this. With that worry off my chest, I was left wondering simply how did we end up like this? Instead of the cold apprehension that had filled me earlier, I was able to imagine a scenario with some amount of warmth.

Perhaps Damon had come, found me on the chair, and taken me to the bed and slept next to me despite my never being awake. The thought was enticing. The image in my mind of a tender Damon, spending the night with me without taking sex or using me, was almost too good to resist. I pictured how he would've changed me into my sleep clothes innocently. I pictured him actually caring.

Then again, maybe the thought wasn't so outrageous. Here he was, snuggled against me like I was his personal teddy bear. I had a suspicion that if I tried to leave the bed he would unconsciously hold me there. The cool spots where his skin touched mine were delicious little reminders of Damon being here. With me. After the feelings of abandonment last night, waking up to this was the last thing I'd expected. I wanted to roll over and smother Damon, to warm him up. I recalled the kiss he'd given me yesterday.

I flew back to reality when I felt Damon's hand twitch. I didn't move, not sure if he knew I was already awake or not. His fingers began tracing delicate patterns on my hip, and he nuzzled further into my back, inhaling deeply. I couldn't help myself, he was too adorable when he was sleepy. I'd never been around Damon when he wasn't the cocky, alert alpha male. I rolled over to face him.

His eyes were a little squinted from sleep and his light pink lips were in a relaxed smile.

"Hey." He breathed quietly.

"Good morning," I replied. "how did you get here?"

"Came last night, found you passed out drunk. Thought the bed would probably be more comfortable." Damon replied, offering no real detail about the situation. I didn't want to ruin the mood by prying. The halo of sunlight from the window contoured Damon's body and features, I was preoccupied by my mortal fascination with him.

"I was…well…what was up last night? You weren't yourself." Damon questioned me. I thought I saw worry flash across his face.

"Nothing." I said quickly. There was no way I was unloading my problems on Damon when he was the cause of most of them.

"Yeah, right." Damon spouted back sarcastically.

"Whatever, nothing." I repeated, hoping he'd drop it.

Thankfully, he did, or at least I thought so. He rolled me over, leaning on top of me, hovering his face inches from mine. His hands kept my shoulders down and his weight on top of me didn't allow me any room to move.

"Now, maybe I can inspire you to stop drinking to solve your problems. That shit's not healthy Ric. It's fine once and awhile. It's fine to have a drink, but you're human, remember? You shouldn't be blacking out multiple times a week. So whatever's wrong with you, fucking tell me next time." Damon growled into my ear, brushing his nose against mine while staring deeply into my eyes. I tried to turn my head to the side to escape his proximity. He just forced me to look at him again. I did kinda feel like an idiot.

"Do I make myself clear?" Damon asked seriously.

I nodded as much as he would allow, my stomach dropping in fear. I'd seen Damon snap people's necks before, I didn't want to be the next victim, even with my ring. Although, according to the subject of Damon's little talk, killing me wasn't really on his agenda, I couldn't help but shrink from the strength of his one-hundred plus years of vampire-dom.

"Good." Damon's lips curled up into a smile that really was much more like a snarl. Still holding my head, he shot down and kissed me savagely, bruising my lips with his severity. His tongue reached through my lips, seeking every inch of my own. I lost track of time until he pulled away slightly, biting my bottom lip firmly, rolling it a bit between his teeth. Somehow I managed to stay silent throughout the whole affair, a feat that I took some pride in.

"Damon, we didn't…do…" I looked guiltily up at him, averting my gaze in embarrassment.

"What?" Damon looked confused. Then realization dawned on him. "No, I told you, you were passed out. I took you to bed." Damon shrugged as if there were nothing at all unusual about his benevolent behavior.

"Mmkay." I grunted.

Damon was peeking out at me from under that irresistible black mop of hair flopping over his forehead, and he the look on his face was one I had never seen before. It wasn't fear, not pain; it was nearer to uncertainty.

"Do you really hate it that much?" He almost whispered. His baby blue eyes seemed to plead with me.

So I decided to tell the truth.

"Not once it's happening." My voice was flat.

"Mmkay." Damon mocked me. I couldn't tell whether my answer had hurt him or not. What should I care anyway? Was he not hurting me?

Damon rolled off of me and stood up. He pulled on a pair of tight jeans and a black t-shirt.

"For the record, I like it before, during, and after." He said, freezing me with an icy look and then stalking out of the room.

I fought the instinct to call him back. Guilt washed over me for my callousness. Just when Damon decided to show an ounce of true emotion, I had forced it back out of him. His words echoed in my ears, bringing new questions into my mind. What had he meant? Before. During. After. That was all the time, right? So had Damon been admitting to this being something beyond a solitary fuck? It was probably me just letting my own hopes run away with themselves, interpreting his words. But maybe it wasn't.

This morning's romance was undeniable. Waking up to his hand on my hip, tracing little patterns there…it was enjoyable. I'd loved it. Seeing Damon's sleepy eyes, knowing he'd stayed the night even without sex…it made me happy inside. His obvious worry at my alcoholism, that kiss…that kiss. I could still feel it, like a ghost on my swollen lips. I was struck with the strong desire to feel Damon's forehead on my own, to feel his voice carried on hot breath over my neck, whispering something to me.

I decided to pull myself out of bed and drive to the boarding house to find Damon. I couldn't just lay here wondering if he was alright; I had to take an active role in reaching out to him before he went on one of his notorious rampages. He was always the one showing up at my doorstep. Maybe this whole time he'd simply been afraid that I didn't reciprocate any feeling, that he was, in essence, raping me. That wasn't the case. No matter how much I denied it, I knew I got a shock of pleasure from walking into the loft with Damon there, from waking up with him next to me, pressing himself against me. I wanted him.

For just a little while I was going to have to put my feelings second to someone else's. Who knows, maybe I'd find out the true reason for his nighttime visits in the process.

I twirled my keys around my finger and opened the front door to possibility.

TO BE CONTINUED….

READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS FOR PLOT OR SUGGESTIONS, I WILL TRY MY BEST TO TAKE THEM INTO CONSIDERATION. Dalaric forever.