Title: Focus
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 400
Spoilers: general s4 spoilers (written after 4x06)
Summary: Elena is with Stefan, but she's thinking about Damon instead. Very slight Damon/Stefan undertones
A/N: This was supposed to be one of my December Meme fics, but it went awry and it doesn't fit the prompt any more. So here it goes. I fail at life.
Great thanks to
vergoldung for helpful suggestions :D.
Focus
It's not that hard, really. All it takes is some focus.
Elena wraps her arms around Stefan's neck and kisses him lazily, sucks his lip for a moment before she pushes her tongue into his mouth. She's careful to do this only when they're close enough to the bed.
(Certain things are forbidden, they don't belong and cause trouble. Stefan isn't allowed to envelop her face in his hands when he kisses her, he can't kiss his way down her neck to her breasts or take her standing. She wouldn't let him. Not that he ever tried, really. For some mysterious reason Stefan knows exactly what to avoid.)
They have comfort and familiarity people earn when they sleep together for months, and Elena slips back into it efortlessly. Stefan likes it when she takes off his shirt in one smooth motion, when she laughs into his mouth during a kiss and when she locks her ankles behind his back right before he slides into her. True, once upon a time she used to like trying new things, but tonight it's not the right time to playfully bite Stefan's shoulder or ask him to pin her to the bed, so Elena sticks to the familiar and leaves exploration for some other time.
(And then, when that other time comes, she'll show her teeth and hold his hand, yes, that's exactly what she'll do. She won't be afraid that Stefan's hair suddely looks darker when the lights are off, and he'll touch her just right, grab her ass to pull her closer. Elena's breath will grow heavy, and she won't be tempted to ask how come Stefan knows... knows her so well. Yes, her. How come he knows her so well.)
Elena looks Stefan right in the eye when he enters her, she might as well, because they're both thinking about the same thing. She can see it in his face when he slides his hand between them, all tense and determined, challenge accepted, so she closes her eyes again. No need to worry him with the strange things he might've seen there, seen and read them all wrong.
(Or, God forbid, all right.)
Instead, Elena focuses on Stefan's fingers rubbing her in an unforgivable rhythm, arches her back to meet them, they're familiar, she tells herself.
(Familiar like the hand on her cheek and lips on her breast. She sees them every time she closes her eyes.)
They make her come.