Title: Necessities for the Road
Author: M'lyn
Email: mlyn@livejournal.com
Rating: 18
Warnings: male/male sexual act, blood drinking
Spoilers: VD5: Nightfall
Disclaimers: The concepts and characters of The Vampire Diaries belong
to L.J. Smith.

Summary: Takes place immediately after the conclusion of Nightfall. An
encounter between Matt and Damon that doesn't turn out how Matt
anticipates.

-=-

"Damon, pull over. Let's take this rest stop."

Matt saw Damon's head tilt to meet Elena's eyes. With his sunglasses
on, it was hard to tell what he was looking at, but he usually looked
at Elena when she addressed him.

"I don't get tired. We'll continue driving."

"I need to /pee/. And I'm /tired/ and my back /hurts/ and--"

The Jaguar jerked toward the rest stop off-ramp. Matt had never been
fond of Elena's whininess when she was tired, but he could use a break
from riding in the car, too, so he said nothing.

They parked and got out to stretch their legs, although Matt figured
that it was just for show on Damon's part. He probably didn't get
stiff or cramped from sitting for hours. He was a hunter; sitting for
hours was what they did.

Elena disappeared into the women's bathroom, and Matt decided to take
advantage of the men's. He relieved himself and washed his hands. The
water was surprisingly warm, and he gave in to the urge and washed his
face and the back of his neck, too.

The Jaguar was undeniably a luxury ride, but sitting for hours in an
enclosed space would make anyone feel grimy. Except Damon, of course.

He went back out to the car. Damon was back in the driver's seat,
watching Elena. She was looking over the options in the snack vending
machines.

"I want real food," Matt said to her.

"So do I," Damon said from inside the car. Matt ignored him.

Elena nodded and got back into the passenger seat. "Can we find a
restaurant or something? And maybe a place to stay." Her tone was
wheedling, but it didn't need to be. Damon started driving with the
silent automation of a person who wasn't arguing with the request.

Unfortunately, they were in the Middle of Nowhere, Arkansas. Matt
recalled having seen a sign declaring that they were in a national
park, which meant no hotels. After another forty minutes of driving,
with Elena's sighs getting more impatient, he finally shared his
hunch.

"I agree. I can't sense any humans close," Damon said.

"So what do we do? Sleep in the car?" Elena was getting shrill. "I
really can't sit here any longer--"

"There's a campsite!" Matt leaned forward and pointed at the sign
rapidly approaching. Damon swung the car off the road and into the
dirt lane.

"You stretch out in back," Matt told Elena. He touched her shoulders
and squeezed them gently, like a prelude to a massage. She nodded
without looking back at him.

"What about you guys?"

"I don't need a /bed/," Damon said smugly.

"It's pretty warm out here. I can stretch out on a picnic table or
something. We have some jackets." Matt knew he wouldn't sleep, but at
least Elena would be mollified.

Elena agreed, and they climbed out of the car. Matt grabbed the spare
jackets and spread them over the campsite picnic table.

"'Night Matt."

Matt turned and spotted Elena, backlit by the interior dome light of
the Jag, her hair shining like a halo. She was leaning out with her
hand on the door, ready to close it.

"G'night."

She started to pull the door closed, but hesitated. "Good night,
Damon."

There was no answer. Matt looked down at the ground. He heard Elena
close the car door, and the area went dark without the interior light.

In midsummer, the nights were not cold here. Matt had on a sweatshirt
to cover his arms, at least. He climbed up onto the table and
stretched out.

The table creaked alarmingly. Matt sat up and it creaked again.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, and got off the table.

"Having a problem?"

Matt jumped at Damon's voice, close behind him. Damon had disappeared
when they'd dispersed from the car, but right now he was about six
inches behind Matt.

"Don't think I should lay down on that thing," Matt replied, wondering
if Damon could hear his heart pounding from the fright.

There was a long pause, then Matt detected a flicker of movement. He
could see moonlight on Damon's white skin, he realized. Damon was
moving around him.

"You can lean against me," Damon continued.

"All the better for you to bite me? I don't think so."

"I /can/ control myself. I've gone days without feeding before."
Damon's tone indicated that in the present situation, it wasn't by
choice.

"And when's the last time?"

There was a pause, and then Damon's voice came from the other side of
Matt. "A few days before we left your town."

They'd been on the road for some twenty-four hours. Damon had to be
feeling peckish, /at least/. But Matt also wanted to prove that he
wasn't afraid. If Damon showed that he couldn't be trustworthy, Matt
would then have some excuse for staking him, provided he wasn't
already weak from blood loss. And whatever happened to him, it would
at least convince Elena of Damon's true nature. He still couldn't
understand why she cut him so much slack.

"Fine," Matt said. "Have you already made a little vampire nest? Or
should we just pick any old patch of dirt?"

A cold, hard had clamped around Matt's arm just above the elbow and
propelled him across the campsite. Matt stumbled on a root or two, but
stayed upright until Damon released him again.

Now Matt could hear a shuffling sound, and from the shapes moving in
the moonlight, realized it was Damon lying down against a tree trunk.
He waited until Damon was settled, wondering how he himself was
supposed to get down and cozy up to a vampire.

He shifted on his feet for a few moments, then blew out a breath and
dropped to his knees. Might as well just do it.

At first, he leaned against the tree next to Damon, their shoulders
brushing. But then he heard Damon sigh, and felt a touch on his
sweatshirt, firm enough to dislodge him. He ended up kind of sprawled
across Damon's chest, and squirmed to achieve some nobility in his
position.

"Lie still. Thrashing attracts predators," Damon said dryly.

"If you're going to keep bringing up feeding, why haven't you fed
yet?"

"Are you offering?" Damon sounded very amused.

"No!" Matt paused. "I mean, I would if we had to, if your strength
depended on it. But I'm not offering."

"A shame. Because, you know, I seriously doubt Elena will look kindly
on my feeding off strangers, while we're on this little excursion."

Shit. He had a point. "What did you think was going to happen?"

Damon didn't speak for quite a while. Matt lifted his head at one
point, but Damon merely pushed him back with a hand on his forehead.
The hand was cool and firm--as was all of Damon, really. Then Damon
answered, "I thought I might convince you. And Elena. If you traded
off, neither of you would be seriously weakened, while I could
maintain my strength."

He'd put some thought into this. The trouble was, it sounded pretty
reasonable, given the circumstances. Only, Matt wouldn't allow Damon
to feed off Elena--not on Matt's watch. He chewed his lip for a while,
then said, "You can do it."

"Of course I can." Damon was insufferably self-assured. He waited a
beat. "You mean now?"

Matt huffed. Typical Damon, giving him a hard time. "Yes, now."

And then he realized what he was offering. Right after he'd said he
wasn't! Dammit.

Damon sat up, taking Matt with him until Matt sat up and leaned away
to give Damon room.

"Remove your sweatshirt."

Matt held his breath but forced himself to do it. It wasn't the first
time he'd been food. He could handle the discomfort, as long as it was
momentary.

Damon shifted behind him, and suddenly Matt could feel every breeze.
He heard his breath gusting loudly in and out of his lungs, and his
heartbeat thudding quickly. Matt realized it was all caused by
adrenaline--and Damon was the cause. The lizard brain part of Matt's
mind was telling him to /run, run fast and far, get away/.

Damon leaned in close to Matt's neck, until Matt could smell cologne
on him and feel the light breaths.

The hair was standing up on Matt's neck and forearms, and it wasn't
due to the night air. He was over-sensitized, hyper-aware of the
hunter lounging inches from him. He held himself still, bringing back
the memory of pain at Damon's bite, steeling himself against it.

"Re-/lax/," Damon said. "It hurts if you fight it."

"I've been bitten unwillingly and--willingly. I know it does. You make
it hurt."

"I don't have to. It's up to you." Damon reached out toward Matt's
neck, as if to position his jaw for a shave. But the razors Damon had
were not in his hand. Damon put his other hand on Matt's shoulder.

Matt shrugged it off, annoyance and nerves making him sound sharp.
"Don't hold me. I'm not some girl you've picked up."

"No, you most certainly are not." Matt would have expected something
like that to be said with disgust, evidence that Damon considered
drinking from a male as slumming. But it was just the
opposite--Damon's voice was measuring, like he was totally conscious
of what Matt was. Maybe even appreciative.

But Damon just got up and sat behind him, and put a hand on his
shoulder again. Matt shrugged his shoulder with more irritation, but
this time he couldn't dislodge Damon.

"Vampires instinctively hold on--"

/To their prey--/

"--When they're drinking," Damon finished. "I'll try to be conscious
of it." His voice was very close. Matt felt breath on his neck, and
then the quick double sting. He sucked in a breath, tension surging to
his neck and shoulders, and felt the pain rise up in a wave.

Damon moved his hand up into Matt's hair, and the tingle of his hair
being brushed in the opposite direction was pleasantly distracting.
Then Matt seemed to hear a voice, like he was imagining Damon speaking
without thinking about it first:

/I said to relax. I don't want to hurt you. I--/

And Matt could /feel/ it, feel Damon's appreciation for Matt's
generosity, like a feeling from his own mind but totally unexpected.

He relaxed.

And that's when the trouble began.

The more he relaxed, the better it felt. Damon had retracted his teeth
and was sucking gently at the holes, and it was causing that pleasant,
sensitive ache, like getting a hickey. Matt tilted his head further to
allow more, the way he would with any girl sucking on his neck. Dimly,
he felt Damon's hands run over his shoulders and down his arms and the
top of his chest, their marble coolness seeping through his shirt.

Logically, Matt knew that the body would respond to stimulus without
much intervention from the brain. So when he felt himself getting
aroused, he was a little dismayed, but not enough to stop Damon. It
just wasn't a big deal. Maybe that was part of Damon's power.

/I'm not influencing you that much. I could make you do so much
more--/

And Matt got a flash of what Damon was thinking. He didn't know what
it was exactly, but it made his face flush hot and a surge of
electricity travel down the nerves of his back.

"Damon--" The sound of his own voice was surprising, with the husky
note of need.

/You want more?/

There was another flash of mental image, this one longer. Matt saw
himself.

He was leaning against Damon, or at least, whom he guessed was Damon
based on the sleek black head bent over his neck. Mental-Image Matt
was gasping, writhing against Damon's body. Damon's hands were on him,
one spread over his chest and drawing his shirt up enough to show a
sliver of stomach. The other hand was on Mental-Image Matt's thigh,
high and inside, keeping his legs spread. Matt--the real one--noticed
that the image of himself had an erection.

Matt jerked. It wasn't a mental image any longer. Damon's hand was on
his thigh, and Matt was hard.

Damon lifted his head, just enough so that Matt could feel the touch
of his lips as he spoke.

"I can stop now if you want."

Damon was giving him a choice, but only so far. Matt had already been
influenced. He was aroused enough to want more. And Damon could still
be using his Power to influence Matt further.

"No," Matt said helplessly.

"No, don't stop?" Damon's hand slid further up his thigh. Matt could
feel the cool hand contrasting with the heat of his arousal. His hips
jerked needily.

"Don't stop."

Damon licked his neck, his tongue surprisingly warm and wet. Matt
expected him to go back to drinking, but instead Damon continued
upward, his lips teasing Matt's ear. A gust of cool breath made
goosebumps rise.

/Damon doesn't need to breathe/, Matt thought wildly. Which meant that
Damon was deliberately doing this.

/Of course. I like my--partners--to be willing/, Damon answered in
Matt's mind. /Haven't you figured that out by now?/

And then he put his mouth back to the bite and drew hard. Matt felt
the tug echo through his veins, each muscle pounding and aching
deliciously, magnifying the ache in his cock. He arched, groaning.

/Shh. Elena./

Elena. Matt thought of her, of what might happen if she woke up and
got out of the car and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Would she
scream or yell for Damon to stop? Or would she see Damon's hand on
Matt's cock, as it was now, rubbing through his jeans, and then
understand?

It was so hard to resist, and there was so little reason.

/Come on, Matt./ Damon's tongue worried the bite marks, and that made
Matt ache all over. /As good as you taste, aroused like this--I can't
drink from you all night./

That was all Matt needed. He didn't question why Damon might want him
to climax--maybe it had something to do with taste, but he just didn't
care. He made his hands move and his fingers work, and unfastened his
jeans, opening the fly. Damon's hand pushed past his and under the
waistband of his briefs. Cool fingers wrapped around Matt's cock, a
matching hardness, a perfect grip.

Damon didn't even move his hand. He did something with his mind,
sending another flash to Matt, but this one wasn't an image; it was a
sensation. Matt felt the piercing sweet wave of orgasm, and though he
knew it wasn't his, his body responded in kind.

Damon's other hand clamped over his mouth, muffling the moan Matt
involuntarily made. His cock pulsed in Damon's hand, releasing in
long, sweet waves. When it eventually faded, Matt relaxed, panting
against Damon's hand. Damon lifted his fingers.

/Thank you./

"No problem," Matt gasped. Damon was carefully untangling himself,
lifting his head, pulling his hand out of Matt's jeans.

Matt felt a blush burn across his face and neck. He scrambled to his
feet, perhaps putting a hand in Damon's stomach to get up in his
haste--he wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a grunt behind him. On
his feet, Matt quickly arranged his clothes and buttoned up, then
glanced at Damon.

Damon was licking his fingertips. When he noticed Matt watching him,
he smiled.

"You're welcome to sleep now, against me. I won't touch you. I can
keep you warm, too, if you need it."

Despite Damon's words--and he had yet to lie to Matt--Matt felt too
uncomfortable about the situation to sleep all cuddled up with a
vampire. He shook his head, trying to figure out what to say.

"Suit yourself," Damon said. And then there was a blur of black and
pale skin, and he disappeared.

Matt heard the rattle and rustle of branches shifting overhead. He
didn't bother looking up, knowing he wouldn't see Damon.

But as he settled down on the ground, Matt knew Damon would be close
by. He wouldn't leave Elena alone.

Fin.