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Loud music blares through the Gilbert household and Elena scoffs, rolling her eyes as she rolls over in her bed and stuffs her head under the pillow Damon had long since claimed as his own. Exactly twenty-six hours previously, Tyler Lockwood had smirked at Damon from across the Grille and mouthed that fateful word, whipped. Damon had been appropriately outraged, knocking Tyler around for a bit before abandoning Elena and disappearing for the rest of the afternoon and evening. She'd had to walk back home, which wasn't a big deal in theory, especially since she'd turned, but it was more semantics than anything else.
He'd come home very early in the morning and asked her if she would mind if he had a boys' day downstairs, before pausing and realising that, perhaps, asking his baby-vampire girlfriend permission to have a few friends over counted as being whipped.
The music grows even louder and there is a very masculine shout of glee, followed by three consecutive shattering-glass sounds. Elena's trying--really she is--to allow Damon to get over this sudden desire to prove to himself that he wears the pants in this relationship, but if they keep breaking things she's going to give him a piece of her mind, threatened masculinity be damned.
Elena stuffs Damon's pillow more firmly over her head, cursing her damned new vampire hearing. Damon and Stefan both tell her that she'll learn how to use it properly, filter things out, with time, but she's been a vampire for almost a month now and she sometimes finds herself suspecting that she can hear better than even Damon can, filter or not.
The boys are gossiping downstairs, laughing and shouting, before she hears Alaric's classic triple-hey and they quiet down as his voice rumbles with a story, punctuated by occasional sips of what's likely bourbon.
Elena focuses on the sound of his voice instead of his words, pictures him in her mind as she listens to each individual twang of his vocal chords. She doesn't quite know who all has been invited to Damon's boys night, but she feels an insanely intense rush of affection for Alaric coming. He will by no means be the chaperone of their little masculinity party, but Damon and the rest of them will have to acclimate their plans to suit a human, which likely means fewer drunken sorority girls used as an all-you-can-drink blood buffet.
The word blood stands out sharply in her mind, and she can feel her fangs enlongating at the thought, even as she tries to push them back. It's been at least twelve hours since she last fed, she thinks, counting back in her mind, and she'd denied Damon's offer of keeping blood upstairs on the premise that she wasn't some rabid animal; she could control herself long enough to walk down the stairs and to the kitchen to get a glass, which she would then sip at a leisurely pace.
Okay, so she still sometimes can't stop herself from gulping it down, but the point was that she's trying, and trying means no emergency blood in the bedroom.
She would have to go down there and ruin the illusion that Damon was having this little shindig without her knowledge. He probably told them she was out with Bonnie and Caroline, when, in fact, he hadn't wanted to disturb her from her sleep long enough to ask her to go spend the day elsewhere.
Plus, she suspected, he probably liked the visual of her sprawled out in bed as much as he did the first time she'd done it, months ago, far too much to even think about asking her to leave.
Whipped, she mouths to herself silently. Was it really so bad?
The idea strikes her, cold and refreshingly tantalizing, and her lips curve up at the corners mischievously. And if she does it well enough, she might even get him to make them leave so she and Damon can have lots of sexy fun times.
Elena rises out of the bed, and spends a few moments moving as silently as she can to fix it, folding the covers back on one side and fluffing the pillows.
She roots through her drawer for Damon's favorite of her underwear--slinky and dark red and fairly small. The lace cups her ass attractively and the red looks good on the tan she'd managed to keep even though she was now technically dead. Elena searches Damon's side of the closet (everything except about six square inches of space he’d managed to free up for her) for a while, trying to decide between a button down shirt with no buttons (whoops) and a thin, rather transparent white t-shirt.
She decides on the button down shirt for old-times' sake and spends two minutes draping it over her shoulders so that it's open, but not showing all of her braless breasts, and so that when she flounces, her ass can be seen as the shirt bunches and bounces.
Elena messes up her hair with one hand and bites at her lips for a minute before remembering they'll heal by the time she gets downstairs. After another moment of deliberation, she gets a slender hand down the front of her panties and rubs, slow and steady, until low heat curls in her stomach and she smells of sex.
She moves absolutely silently down the stairs, stopping three from the bottom when she hears Alaric's voice, still speaking, because it actually hasn't been all that long since she'd had her idea and started putting it into action, saying, "C'mon, Damon, it's just so they know what I'm talking about--bend over."
Her eyebrows shooting up to meet her hairline, she continues to move, steps softer than a breath of air, down the last of the stairs, so that she can glimpse into the living room and see what's happening for herself.
Damon's apparently listened to his best drinking buddy, because he's bent over at the waist, ass, encased in tight black jeans (sometimes she misses the leather, but it's not like she'd ever tell him that), up in the air. Tyler, Matt, Jeremy, Stefan,and a handful of Damon's vampire friends, dotted with the occasional compelled sorority girl, make up the audience.
He twists his neck a bit to look up at Alaric, who's moving closer, and Elena can't help but step forward, just a bit, to get a better look. No one's actually paying any attention to anything but her boyfriend and her pseudo-guardian, so it doesn't matter so much.
She steps forward again, just as Alaric grabs a handful of Damon's ass, hips pressed way close, and suddenly everyone is looking at her, including Damon and Alaric, who have frozen in place. Jeremy slides a glass of something likely alcoholic out of her direct line of sight, but she ignores that for the moment.
"Well, I just came down here to seduce Damon into making you guys leave so we can have sex," Elena admits blandly, walking into the room, raising her eyebrows every time she glances at those two. She twists a bit, letting the shirt ride up to expose a bit more skin anyway. "But I'll just leave you guys to it." She steps purposefully towards the nearest sorority girl and smiles warmly at her slightly-clouded expression, waiting until the girl smiles back until she steps around to her back and tilts her head to the side, exposing a long pale neck.
Meeting a thankfully straightened-up Damon's eyes, she mouths at the human girl's neck for just a minute before sinking her fangs in, clean and quick, and sucking a few mouthfuls of hot, hot blood up. It drips down the girl's exposed chest, and Elena pulls away from her neck and twists around to clean it up with her tongue.
"Thank you, babe," Elena says to the girl, who beams at her. "You were delicious." Jeremy is looking away, clearly uncomfortable, but everyone else's eyes are glued to her.
"Don't stop on my account," she says to the room of family and friends, tilting her head and allowing Damon's shirt to slip a bit more off one breast, dragging a thumb up the drip of blood running down the side of her chin and across her lips, before popping it into her mouth and sucking. "I should really be going. Lunch with Bonnie, Caroline, and Mer," she shrugs casually, but tries on Damon's wickedest smirk for size and discovers she likes the way it fits. "It'll be so nice catching up, don't you think?"
She nods to Damon's vampire friends, aware that most of them don't like to stay in one place for too long and likely only came to Mystic Falls for Damon's man-party, which she has just successfully crashed.
Okay, so maybe that hadn't gone exactly how she'd wanted it to, she muses as she flounces back up the stairs to get dressed, leaping out the window so as to not ruin her totally awesome exit. The girls would get a kick out of it, though.