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"I still don't get why you had to drag me along with you," Damon drawled with his head hung back towards the sky, eyes squinting at the blinding rays. "It seems you can handle yourself just fine." He glanced back to where Stefan was lagging just a few steps behind, motioning to both grocery bags clad in each of his hands.
"Well, I did ask for help," Stefan punctuated, readjusting his grip on the bag's handles which dug uncomfortably in his grasp with the weight of more than a few wine bottles.
"Nah, you're fine," Damon said resolutely, very free hands buried in his pockets.
Damon paused in his steps at the sound of clinking wine bottles. Glancing back, he observed the other placing the bags on the pavement before ducking down to tie a recently undone shoelace.
"Huh, since when did you stop wearing velcro?" Damon quizzed, tilting his head.
"Hilarious," Stefan deadpanned, fingers expertly fitting the lace through a bunny ear.
Damon cackled to himself, strolling further ahead until he spotted a pamphlet nailed to the bark of a nearby tree. Upon further inspection, majority of the trees in the town's square adorned the same paper. Snatching at the pamphlet, Damon inspected the vibrant colours and tacky font.
"Friday Fun Fair," Damon read allowed. "Jolly."
Discreetly, he tucked it away into his back pocket.
"I saw that," Stefan called out.
"Yeah? Unsee it."
Suddenly Stefan was by his side, dropping the bags along with their fragile contents, forcing Damon to lurch forward to catch them, leaving the unprotected paper to be napped from his back pocket. Then Stefan marched ahead, leaving a peeved Damon to follow suite.
"Friday fun fair," Stefan sounded out, words laced with amusement.
"Bravo, brother," Damon praised. "You can read."
"Let me guess, you want Elijah to go with you?" Stefan got straight to the point, saying the original's name the way a third grader would to tease their friend about a crush.
"Why so worried about my afternoon plans?" Damon bristled, glancing over his shoulder as though the mention of the original would summon him. "You don't see me judging you for your planned evening of romance at Elena's dead parents' house."
Stefan paused, sending a peeved look over his shoulder. "Do you always have to be a dick?" he quizzed, shoving the pamphlet against Damon's chest. "Genuine question."
"I think you forget you have no room to judge." Damon rolled his eyes, secretly relieved the piece of paper slipped safely into the confines of a paper bag. "We both know you've had your fair share of Mikaelson."
Stefan turned around, reprimanding stare aimed at Damon. Damon just took the opportunity to dump the alcohol into his brother's arms again. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Damon smiled warmly, beginning to walk away, until he remembered something.
Reversing his steps, he swiped the pamphlet from the paper bag and slipped it back into its rightful place in his pocket. Then he left Stefan and his smug expression in the park, marching home with a particular original in mind.
--
"Honey, I'm home!" Damon's voice resounded throughout the mansion's multitude of rooms. However, the only response he received was the echo of his own voice.
He paused to listen past the jangle of the front door as it closed behind him, searching for any noise around the house, or a sudden gust of wind. He heard neither, but instead felt a presence occupy the space behind him, a smirk spreading across his face.
"Why, hello, dear," a sardonic voice sounded in Damon's ear, before a firm kiss was placed to his nape, right atop a sudden wave of goosebumps. Damon let Elijah pry his leather jacket from himself, shrugging to help rid the article of clothing.
Elijah then sped to the living room before them, gesturing to a free cushion on the couch before sitting down himself, leg perched over the other in all of his sophisticated glory—it really was hard to see him at some lowly children's fair.
Despite his hesitance, mustering his usual Damon bravado, he swiped the piece of paper from his back pocket, jogging down the slight step of the conversation pit before vaulting over the back of the plush lounge. He landed with a grunt, splayed out on the cushions with his legs perched over the other's lap.
"Lookie here." Damon straightened out the pamphlet before thrusting it towards Elijah, the paper slapping him in the face with a sharp thwack.
Elijah's hand crept up to pry the paper from his face, revealing an arched brow. Damon's wary gaze alternated between staring down Elijah's calculating look, to the pamphlet he was reading.
When the original's unreadable expression glanced upwards, Damon rushed to explain himself. "I just thought that we had a free evening and—you know."
"Right," Elijah spoke distractedly as he pulled his sleeve to bunch at his elbow, eyeing his watch. "Well, I have some matters I must attend to." The original made a move to get up, plucking Damon's boots off his lap as you would a dirty tissue before letting them fall to the ground.
As Damon watched the blur of Elijah's figure speed past him he allowed his head to thud against the back of the couch, the heel of his palm rubbing at his forehead, defeated. "Right, yep. See you later."
Elijah paused his advances to open the front door, turning to face the other. "I will meet you at the town square, six o'clock sharp." Elijah smiled. "And we can go to this... fair."
Damon perked up, throwing an arm over the back of the couch to haul himself from his slouched position, but Elijah was already gone.
--
The part of the park where Damon resided had began clearing of people with the sun setting on the cusp of dusk, making way for the faint shine of stars against the deeper backdrop of the sky. The rustle of swaying trees encouraged the chilled breeze that caught in Damon's hair, expertly unkempt in the way he knew a particular original liked.
Damon thumbed at his mobile with an arm slung around the back of the bench he sat at when a gust of wind sounded from his right, distinct from the rest. Damon glanced up in the direction of the sound, smirking as he saw Elijah strolling towards him. Damon glanced at his bare wrist. "You're late," he called out.
Elijah stopped before the bench, looming over Damon with a change in suit, the completely black one Damon loved so much he wanted nothing more than to tear it from him. "I'm on time," Elijah stated matter-of-factly. "You are just early."
The other was right, Damon believed this was the first time in his long life he'd been early, and it was for a damned children's fair. He'd even been late to his father's funeral—Damon believed his priorities were unconventional yet distinguished.
With an amused huff, Damon accepted the hand held out for him, leading the way to the fair for them.
The first attraction they came across was a throw to win a prize!—the rigged ones that were really just socially accepted scams. Damon grabbed at the other's arm, hauling him along with determination in his steps.
Elijah complied, letting himself be dragged behind the other, until Damon spun around with a mischievous grin. Glancing past Damon's head, Elijah observed a sign: $10 for 5 throws. His gaze then panned to Damon's hand, held out expectantly between them.
With a sigh, Elijah plucked a bill from his wallet, placing it in Damon's hand. "That's the spirit!" Damon let out, pressing a chaste kiss to Elijah's cheek, and suddenly it was worth it.
Damon exchanged the money for a hand full of softballs, readying himself to throw. Elijah watched on with a smile as Damon drew his shoulder back before pelting a ball at the target with impressive accuracy, the sturdy cardboard cut out immediately knocked from its ledge. Throw after throw, Damon knocked down the targets, each further from the other. By the fourth Damon had an eye closed, tongue caught between his teeth as he aimed for the farthest one.
He tightened his hold on the ball, taking one step backwards, before hurtling it forward. But he missed, and Elijah couldn't help the laugh that left him. Damon immediately whipped around, feathers ruffled.
"Alright, if you think you're all high and mighty," Damon started, shoving the last ball in Elijah's hand. "I'd like to see you try."
Elijah simply shrugged, the remnants of laughter tugging his lips upward. He didn't bother walking to the throwing line, remaining where he stood as he rolled a shoulder back. Then, in a flurry of movement pelted the ball, a crack resounding as the cardboard cutout was punctured, a gaping hole left in its wake. Those surrounding gasped, before cheering Elijah on, leaving Damon's ears pink, from embarrassment or secret admiration, he wouldn't say.
"Do I win?" Elijah said with a grin.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Damon scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. "Just know I'd smoke you at any other game here."
"Are you willing to bet?"
Damon had to double take, a competitive smile making itself known. He tilted his head, telling Elijah he was all ears.
"Whoever gathers the most prizes, wins." Elijah stated simply, hand gliding to rest in the pockets of his blazer. "I believe an hour is an apt amount of time?"
"Oh you are on, old man," Damon murmured to himself as he scanned his surroundings, already planning out his route to victory.
"I would hurry Damon," Elijah spoke, guiding the other's attention back to him, where Damon spotted the plush toy the original just won in his hands. "I am already ahead."
Damon didn't have to be told twice, marching off in the opposite direction, effectively egged on. Elijah knew all the right buttons to press.
"Oh, and Damon." Damon rolled his eyes as he turned to face the other again, exasperated. "No compelling." Elijah's eyes creased with amusement.
Damon had done the rounds, visited almost every stall there was to offer and had accumulated quite the collection of stuffed toys, along with any other janky prize they had to offer. He was situated at one of the only tents he hadn't had a try at yet, eyes set on a life size bear that resided gloriously at the top shelf, the final hurrah that would rub Damon's win in Elijah's stupidly handsome face. Although it was then that a buzz from his back pocket made itself known, and it was more than a struggle to balance the many toys he'd gathered whilst retrieving his mobile.
Damon stared at the message floating on his screen. Times up.
"Shit," Damon hissed, glancing around himself, eyes searching amongst the sea of people for the best dressed person there. Elijah wasn't easy to miss. Fortunately, he was nowhere in sight.
"Psst," Damon directed towards the employee, who walked over with a less than impressed expression. Leaning close to the man's face—Elijah could be anywhere—Damon lowered his voice. "Give me that bear, the one on the top shelf."
The employee's pupils dilated, before nodding quickly at Damon, walking back to retrieve what was asked of him. With the wistful gasps and gushing heard from jealous kids around him as Damon was handed the bear, he had never been happier.
Wrapping the soft toy around Damon's own neck, he started towards their agreed meeting place, shining a smug grin the entire way. Damon quickly spotted Elijah in the distance, however frowned with furrowed brows at the obvious lack of goodies in his arms.
"Looks like someone didn't get the memo." Damon looked pointedly at the only pair of stuffed toys in Elijah's grasp, seemingly the only addition to his initial head start he'd been so cocky about. Damon huffed, this made his win a whole less satisfying.
Elijah shrugged, unbothered. "I suppose you were right, I have finally met my match."
Damon only frowned at him. "Well, be a dear and help me carry these. My win is weighing heavy on my shoulders."
Elijah rolled his eyes, although grinned nonetheless. "I'm sure it is."
--
Damon stumbled through the front door, balance thrown off by the elated feeling that made his knees weak, lingering laughter bubbling from the warmth of his chest. Turning around, Damon observed Elijah's own grin, the rare one that left his eyes squinting. His tie was uneven where it lay slack against his untucked dress shirt, the sight left Damon swaying towards the original.
Fists grappling the other's blazer, Damon pressed his lips against Elijah's, the force sending them both crashing into the front door.
Elijah kissed him hard against the front door—then they were in the kitchen, Elijah's nimble fingers slipping underneath Damon's shirt, fingertips gliding over his navel. Before Damon could get acquainted with the touch, they reached the hallway, Elijah's lips on Damon's neck, the subtle grazing of impossibly sharp canines, yet the delicious rake of pleasure was replaced with hands in his hair as the two finally stumbled into their bedroom.
His Iron clad grip on Elijah's nape brought him down with Damon as the backs of his knees came in contact with the mattress. The fall was brief, Damon keeping their lips connected the whole way down. When Damon landed, it had felt plenty more cushioned than he'd last remembered. However, Damon was fairly preoccupied at the current and he believed he could breeze past the fact. That was until the original's lips curled into a smirk against his lips.
Damon splayed a hand across the other's chest, pulling away gently with furrowed brows. Where his head rested on a suspiciously furry cushion, he turned his head to the right to be met face to face with a very smiley bear. After a small fright, Damon sped from the mattress, stopping just short of their bed to take in what he'd been too busy to earlier.
"What the—" Damon murmured as he took in the sight before him; not a singular inch of the bed visible from underneath dozens of plush toys, varying from massive life sized bears, to small keychains. He blinked, before wordlessly pivoting to face the original.
Elijah adjusted his collar, almost professionally. Damon could practically feel the pride radiating from the other as though it was tangible. Damon knew Elijah had a great arm, but this was something else. If he hadn't known Elijah's moral code all too well, Damon would have liked to blame his pathetic loss on the other's cheating compulsion—although he had little room to talk.
"If I'm not mistaken, I believe that makes me the winner," Elijah stated. "If we're still keeping count, of course," he clarified with an admittedly earned air of smugness.
Elijah then scooped a plush from the bed, holding it before himself as he approached Damon. The plush stared at him with sparkling eyes, holding out a disproportionately large heart, engraved with the words 'I love you'. The sight of the bear resting in Elijah's hands that had torn out more hearts than one would consider a healthy amount, was almost comical. It made it very difficult to remain disappointed about his epic loss.
Damon simply shook his head in poorly guised wonder, plucking the bear from Elijah's hands when he approached. Although, Elijah's attempt to press a kiss against Damon's lips was intercepted by the hand that clamped over the original's mouth.
Damon tutted, holding the stuffed animal beside their faces. "In front of the children?" he whisper-shouted, clutching the imaginary pearls around his neck.
Elijah rolled his eyes, placing a palm over the stuffed animal's faux eyes before hooking a finger in a loop of Damon's jeans, pulling him in closer. "Couch it is, then."
