turnonmyheels (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
turnonmyheels) wrote2010-11-21 08:43 am
turnonmyheels) wrote2010-11-21 08:43 am
Fic! Throw Yourself From Skin to Skin 7/22
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Title: Throw Yourself From Skin to Skin
Pairing: Damon/anyone he damn well wants.
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Damon is a vampire. There will be death, rape, torture, sex, bloodplay, etc.
Summary: Damon screws (with) Mystic Falls, episode by episode. This part Tyler Lockwood
Spoilers: Through 1.7 Haunted
Thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moosesal For the beta.
Previous parts here
Tyler leaned his pool stick against the table after he sank the nine-ball and tried to stretch some of the soreness out of his neck and shoulders. He’s tried piecing together what happened to make him this sore, but it doesn’t make any sense. There was Vicki, then there were the Salvatores, and then he was flying through the air and landing on his shoulder on the hood of his car. Yeah, that didn’t make any sense at all.
The bell over the door at The Grill rang out someone’s entry or exit and Tyler turned to see who it was. He was unsurprised to see it was Stefan’s creepy older brother. Tyler gathered all the balls he’d sank and re-racked. He kept one eye on Salvatore and the other on the cue ball as he played a game of nine-ball against himself.
Salvatore was throwing back something brown like it was going out of style. By the time Tyler sank the last ball Salvatore had a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam by his elbow and was draining a rocks glass. Tyler put the pool cue away and sauntered over to the bar. He slid onto the bar stool beside Damon and nodded at the bartender.
“What the hell was going on with you and Vicki?” Tyler felt his temper bubbling up and turned on the stool so that he was facing Salvatore.
The man set his glass of JB down and turned to face him. He stared at Tyler with his freaky eyes for a minute and said, “Nothing is going on with Vicki. Nothing happened tonight.”
“Huh.” Tyler shook his head and tried to clear it. He felt like something had crawled inside of him and flipped a switch, taking something away from him he needed.
Salvatore picked up his glass and drained it.
“I don’t like you,” Tyler said as he looked straight ahead into the mirror behind the bar and watched Salvatore’s face. His expression didn’t change. He poured another glass full of bourbon and drained it like it was water on a hot day. “I said I don’t like you. And I don’t like your brother either.”
“See how much I don’t care." Salvatore motioned for the bartender to bring another glass. He filled it full of bourbon and slid it across the bar to Tyler. “Drink up. Maybe you’ll like me better when you’re drunk.”
Tyler checked out the room in the mirror, it was as safe as it was going to get in The Grill for him to drink. He drained the glass in four swallows and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The bourbon burned a trail of fire down his throat and into his belly. It didn’t change his opinion of either Salvatore one bit. “No, I still don’t like you.”
Salvatore poured both glasses full again. They drank in unison, Tyler could feel the liquor hitting his system; it made his stiff muscles (why was he so sore?) relax a bit. He carefully pushed the glass out of reach and leaned back in his seat. Salvatore had yet to look at him again and it was pissing him off.
“How about now? Like me better than you did?”
“No.”
“Do you like me better than my brother?”
Tyler thought about that. Stefan was dating Elena and that was fucking with Matt pretty bad. Tyler hated it when people (anyone other than Tyler that is) messed with Matt -- the kid had it rough and needed all the breaks he could get. This guy, on the other hand, had been fucking around with Caroline and it looked like she was pretty messed up over it. Not that Tyler had any strong feelings about Caroline other than she was smoking hot and this guy was pretty hot too now that he thought about it. Which was weird and had a lot to do with why he didn’t like Salvatore. Tyler was not into dudes. At all. So there was no reason why he’d think this guy was hot, which brought him back to weird and he didn’t like it.
“I didn’t think it would be that hard of a question.”
“What?” Tyler turned away from the reflection and looked at the man. “Oh sorry, lost my train of thought.”
“Do you hate Stefan that much?” The guy poured his glass full again, emptying the bottle. He brought the glass to his lips and touched his tongue to the rim before taking a drink. Tyler found himself mesmerized by the flash of tongue and reminded himself yet again: not into dudes.
“I’m sorry, am I distracting you?” The tone of voice raised Tyler’s hackles. His already too short temper was being pushed to the limit. He had to get it under control; no more public tantrums or he was really going to get it. He grabbed onto the edge of the bar to keep from taking a swing. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He knew better than to drink that much brown liquor; it always made his temper that much worse.
“I’m Damon by the way.” He held out his hand and Tyler took it. Damon’s hand was smaller than his own, more slender and fine boned. It made Tyler’s fingers itch for his sketch pad and pencil. Hell, everything about Damon made him want to draw. He shook Damon’s hand firmly and couldn’t resist giving an extra hard squeeze at the end.
Damon squeezed back. Hard enough that Tyler had to fight to keep the wince off his face. “Tyler.” Damon released his hand and Tyler rubbed his hand on his thigh until he regained feeling.
Damon motioned the bartender to bring him another bottle. He poured the bourbon over a fresh glass of ice and held the bottle out in Tyler’s direction. Tyler shook his head and waved off the bottle. He’d had more than enough to drink; Damon must have poured him the equivalent of six shots and he realized he hadn’t felt the full effect yet.
They sat in silence. Damon drank steadily and Tyler studied him. He still didn’t like him. There was something ... not right about the man. Something predatory, nearly inhuman in the way he moved and the intensity of his gaze. Tyler dug into the pocket of his letter jacket and came out with a pen. He grabbed a napkin and started a rough outline of Damon’s face.
He paused for a moment and studied Damon’s profile intently. He must have been lost in concentration because he didn’t even see Damon move but he obviously had because he was holding the napkin Tyler had been drawing on in his hand. “If you wanted a model all you had to do was ask.”
Tyler grabbed for the napkin but Damon had already folded it up and put it in his back pocket. “Give it back.”
“Make me.” Damon smirked and raised an eyebrow.
Tyler pushed away from the bar and stood. He drew himself up to his full height and shoved his hands into his coat pockets and clenched his hands into fists. If he got into a fight in public he knew what would be waiting for him at home would make a bar brawl look like a nursery school sand box fight. “Not here.”
Tyler headed for the back exit and waited for Damon to pay and follow him. He paced between the door and the dumpster, gearing up for a fight. He stumbled a bit and realized he was too drunk to fight, but Damon had drank nearly an entire bottle by himself -- there was no way he could be sober enough to kick Tyler’s ass. He figured one punch, maybe two. He’d grab his sketch and be home before Damon knew what happened. He reached the dumpster again. Tyler kicked it for being in his way and turned and walked smack into Damon. Damon was a freaking immovable object and Tyler stumbled back a little. “Did you want something from me?”
Tyler tried to stand his ground. He planted both feet, but Damon just kept moving forward. Tyler thought Damon would stop before they were touching but he didn’t. Their chests were pressed together and Damon kept walking. Tyler pushed against him but Damon for all his smaller stature was pushing him, back, back, back until Tyler was flush against the dumpster and Damon was pressed against him. Chest, abs, hips, knees. Even their damn shoes were touching.
Damon grabbed Tyler by the chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “I asked you if you wanted something.”
Tyler placed both hands on Damon’s chest and shoved as hard as he could. The guy was a fucking brick wall. He didn’t even budge. Tyler’s pulse picked up when he realized he was completely stuck. He lifted his chin and tried to shove Damon back again. “Give me back my drawing.”
“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” Damon ground his pelvis against Tyler’s and Tyler jerked his head back, slamming it against the cold metal of the dumpster. “Cause it feels like ” -- Damon reached between them and fondled the erection Tyler wasn’t even aware he had until Damon touched it -- “you want something else.”
“Dude.” Tyler put everything he had into it, he tried to slam his entire body against Damon’s. He may as well have been glued to the dumpster for all the good it did him. “Get off of me!”
“Huh-uh.” Damon said and crashed his mouth onto Tyler’s. It wasn’t a kiss, Tyler didn’t kiss guys and kisses were supposed to be nice. This was brutal, Damon’s teeth dug into Tyler’s lips until he had to part them or have them bitten off. Damon’s tongue slid into his mouth, and he still didn’t stop biting Tyler. Teeth pierced his lip, he felt blood welling up and Damon licked it and groaned. Tyler kept trying to push Damon off and turn away from the kisses.
He wasn’t getting anywhere but more stuck. Damon worked a leg between Tyler’s thighs and rocked against his crotch. He licked a trail down Tyler’s throat and followed it with his teeth. Scraping along his jugular, biting until Tyler was sure he was going to look like a vampire had attacked him in the morning. Tyler was helpless against the onslaught. Pinned against a garbage dumpster in a dark alley, he felt like a whore. Then Damon pulled Tyler’s jacket and shirt collar to the side and bit his shoulder until Tyler threw his head back and shouted. “What the fuck?”
Damon sucked where he was biting him and shoved a hand into Tyler’s pants. He grabbed Tyler’s prick and stroked until he fucking came in his pants. Tyler closed his eyes and struggled for breath as well as escape. He was still pushing Damon, trying like hell to get him off of him. He felt Damon step away and opened his eyes.
The alley was empty. Tyler’s clothes were perfectly arranged, zipped and buttoned. He touched a hand to his shoulder and there was nothing there. No bite, no blood. If he hadn’t felt come drying inside his boxers he’d think he imagined the whole thing.
Tyler shook his head and made his unsteady way to his car. He’d already sat down in the car and cranked it when he noticed something under the windshield wiper. He debated leaving it there and driving home but decided against it. He leaned against his car as he unfolded the sketch of Damon.
Like me better than my brother now? was scrawled on the napkin.
Tyler wadded it up and shoved it in his pocket and drove home. He didn’t like the Salvatores.
He fucking hated them.
next part
Title: Throw Yourself From Skin to Skin
Pairing: Damon/anyone he damn well wants.
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Damon is a vampire. There will be death, rape, torture, sex, bloodplay, etc.
Summary: Damon screws (with) Mystic Falls, episode by episode. This part Tyler Lockwood
Spoilers: Through 1.7 Haunted
Thank you
moosesal For the beta. Previous parts here
Tyler leaned his pool stick against the table after he sank the nine-ball and tried to stretch some of the soreness out of his neck and shoulders. He’s tried piecing together what happened to make him this sore, but it doesn’t make any sense. There was Vicki, then there were the Salvatores, and then he was flying through the air and landing on his shoulder on the hood of his car. Yeah, that didn’t make any sense at all.
The bell over the door at The Grill rang out someone’s entry or exit and Tyler turned to see who it was. He was unsurprised to see it was Stefan’s creepy older brother. Tyler gathered all the balls he’d sank and re-racked. He kept one eye on Salvatore and the other on the cue ball as he played a game of nine-ball against himself.
Salvatore was throwing back something brown like it was going out of style. By the time Tyler sank the last ball Salvatore had a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam by his elbow and was draining a rocks glass. Tyler put the pool cue away and sauntered over to the bar. He slid onto the bar stool beside Damon and nodded at the bartender.
“What the hell was going on with you and Vicki?” Tyler felt his temper bubbling up and turned on the stool so that he was facing Salvatore.
The man set his glass of JB down and turned to face him. He stared at Tyler with his freaky eyes for a minute and said, “Nothing is going on with Vicki. Nothing happened tonight.”
“Huh.” Tyler shook his head and tried to clear it. He felt like something had crawled inside of him and flipped a switch, taking something away from him he needed.
Salvatore picked up his glass and drained it.
“I don’t like you,” Tyler said as he looked straight ahead into the mirror behind the bar and watched Salvatore’s face. His expression didn’t change. He poured another glass full of bourbon and drained it like it was water on a hot day. “I said I don’t like you. And I don’t like your brother either.”
“See how much I don’t care." Salvatore motioned for the bartender to bring another glass. He filled it full of bourbon and slid it across the bar to Tyler. “Drink up. Maybe you’ll like me better when you’re drunk.”
Tyler checked out the room in the mirror, it was as safe as it was going to get in The Grill for him to drink. He drained the glass in four swallows and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The bourbon burned a trail of fire down his throat and into his belly. It didn’t change his opinion of either Salvatore one bit. “No, I still don’t like you.”
Salvatore poured both glasses full again. They drank in unison, Tyler could feel the liquor hitting his system; it made his stiff muscles (why was he so sore?) relax a bit. He carefully pushed the glass out of reach and leaned back in his seat. Salvatore had yet to look at him again and it was pissing him off.
“How about now? Like me better than you did?”
“No.”
“Do you like me better than my brother?”
Tyler thought about that. Stefan was dating Elena and that was fucking with Matt pretty bad. Tyler hated it when people (anyone other than Tyler that is) messed with Matt -- the kid had it rough and needed all the breaks he could get. This guy, on the other hand, had been fucking around with Caroline and it looked like she was pretty messed up over it. Not that Tyler had any strong feelings about Caroline other than she was smoking hot and this guy was pretty hot too now that he thought about it. Which was weird and had a lot to do with why he didn’t like Salvatore. Tyler was not into dudes. At all. So there was no reason why he’d think this guy was hot, which brought him back to weird and he didn’t like it.
“I didn’t think it would be that hard of a question.”
“What?” Tyler turned away from the reflection and looked at the man. “Oh sorry, lost my train of thought.”
“Do you hate Stefan that much?” The guy poured his glass full again, emptying the bottle. He brought the glass to his lips and touched his tongue to the rim before taking a drink. Tyler found himself mesmerized by the flash of tongue and reminded himself yet again: not into dudes.
“I’m sorry, am I distracting you?” The tone of voice raised Tyler’s hackles. His already too short temper was being pushed to the limit. He had to get it under control; no more public tantrums or he was really going to get it. He grabbed onto the edge of the bar to keep from taking a swing. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He knew better than to drink that much brown liquor; it always made his temper that much worse.
“I’m Damon by the way.” He held out his hand and Tyler took it. Damon’s hand was smaller than his own, more slender and fine boned. It made Tyler’s fingers itch for his sketch pad and pencil. Hell, everything about Damon made him want to draw. He shook Damon’s hand firmly and couldn’t resist giving an extra hard squeeze at the end.
Damon squeezed back. Hard enough that Tyler had to fight to keep the wince off his face. “Tyler.” Damon released his hand and Tyler rubbed his hand on his thigh until he regained feeling.
Damon motioned the bartender to bring him another bottle. He poured the bourbon over a fresh glass of ice and held the bottle out in Tyler’s direction. Tyler shook his head and waved off the bottle. He’d had more than enough to drink; Damon must have poured him the equivalent of six shots and he realized he hadn’t felt the full effect yet.
They sat in silence. Damon drank steadily and Tyler studied him. He still didn’t like him. There was something ... not right about the man. Something predatory, nearly inhuman in the way he moved and the intensity of his gaze. Tyler dug into the pocket of his letter jacket and came out with a pen. He grabbed a napkin and started a rough outline of Damon’s face.
He paused for a moment and studied Damon’s profile intently. He must have been lost in concentration because he didn’t even see Damon move but he obviously had because he was holding the napkin Tyler had been drawing on in his hand. “If you wanted a model all you had to do was ask.”
Tyler grabbed for the napkin but Damon had already folded it up and put it in his back pocket. “Give it back.”
“Make me.” Damon smirked and raised an eyebrow.
Tyler pushed away from the bar and stood. He drew himself up to his full height and shoved his hands into his coat pockets and clenched his hands into fists. If he got into a fight in public he knew what would be waiting for him at home would make a bar brawl look like a nursery school sand box fight. “Not here.”
Tyler headed for the back exit and waited for Damon to pay and follow him. He paced between the door and the dumpster, gearing up for a fight. He stumbled a bit and realized he was too drunk to fight, but Damon had drank nearly an entire bottle by himself -- there was no way he could be sober enough to kick Tyler’s ass. He figured one punch, maybe two. He’d grab his sketch and be home before Damon knew what happened. He reached the dumpster again. Tyler kicked it for being in his way and turned and walked smack into Damon. Damon was a freaking immovable object and Tyler stumbled back a little. “Did you want something from me?”
Tyler tried to stand his ground. He planted both feet, but Damon just kept moving forward. Tyler thought Damon would stop before they were touching but he didn’t. Their chests were pressed together and Damon kept walking. Tyler pushed against him but Damon for all his smaller stature was pushing him, back, back, back until Tyler was flush against the dumpster and Damon was pressed against him. Chest, abs, hips, knees. Even their damn shoes were touching.
Damon grabbed Tyler by the chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “I asked you if you wanted something.”
Tyler placed both hands on Damon’s chest and shoved as hard as he could. The guy was a fucking brick wall. He didn’t even budge. Tyler’s pulse picked up when he realized he was completely stuck. He lifted his chin and tried to shove Damon back again. “Give me back my drawing.”
“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” Damon ground his pelvis against Tyler’s and Tyler jerked his head back, slamming it against the cold metal of the dumpster. “Cause it feels like ” -- Damon reached between them and fondled the erection Tyler wasn’t even aware he had until Damon touched it -- “you want something else.”
“Dude.” Tyler put everything he had into it, he tried to slam his entire body against Damon’s. He may as well have been glued to the dumpster for all the good it did him. “Get off of me!”
“Huh-uh.” Damon said and crashed his mouth onto Tyler’s. It wasn’t a kiss, Tyler didn’t kiss guys and kisses were supposed to be nice. This was brutal, Damon’s teeth dug into Tyler’s lips until he had to part them or have them bitten off. Damon’s tongue slid into his mouth, and he still didn’t stop biting Tyler. Teeth pierced his lip, he felt blood welling up and Damon licked it and groaned. Tyler kept trying to push Damon off and turn away from the kisses.
He wasn’t getting anywhere but more stuck. Damon worked a leg between Tyler’s thighs and rocked against his crotch. He licked a trail down Tyler’s throat and followed it with his teeth. Scraping along his jugular, biting until Tyler was sure he was going to look like a vampire had attacked him in the morning. Tyler was helpless against the onslaught. Pinned against a garbage dumpster in a dark alley, he felt like a whore. Then Damon pulled Tyler’s jacket and shirt collar to the side and bit his shoulder until Tyler threw his head back and shouted. “What the fuck?”
Damon sucked where he was biting him and shoved a hand into Tyler’s pants. He grabbed Tyler’s prick and stroked until he fucking came in his pants. Tyler closed his eyes and struggled for breath as well as escape. He was still pushing Damon, trying like hell to get him off of him. He felt Damon step away and opened his eyes.
The alley was empty. Tyler’s clothes were perfectly arranged, zipped and buttoned. He touched a hand to his shoulder and there was nothing there. No bite, no blood. If he hadn’t felt come drying inside his boxers he’d think he imagined the whole thing.
Tyler shook his head and made his unsteady way to his car. He’d already sat down in the car and cranked it when he noticed something under the windshield wiper. He debated leaving it there and driving home but decided against it. He leaned against his car as he unfolded the sketch of Damon.
Like me better than my brother now? was scrawled on the napkin.
Tyler wadded it up and shoved it in his pocket and drove home. He didn’t like the Salvatores.
He fucking hated them.
next part
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This was so easy to read. And I don't just mean because it was super hot, but because each line flowed into the next in a way that made me zip through this. That almost never happens! Great job, dude.
no subject