Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE
The second he arrived at Salvatore Manor, Enzo began bamming on the door. His heart was unsteady, beating with concern for the only friend he'd had for the past fifty years. Despite their tiffs, Damon was the closest thing to family that he had. He was the closest thing to love. And now he was gone.
"Stefan open the bloody door!"
As if on cue the younger Salvatore appeared, his hazel eyes bloodshot and weary.
"Oh it's you."
It didn't take Enzo's vampiric sense of smell to notice the scent of bourbon.
"What do you want?"
He pushed past him into the home.
"Damon's missing."
Stefan shut the door behind him.
"I've been calling, looking for him everywhere but he's gone. No trace," Enzo continued.
"It's like he just vanished."
Stefan finished off the glass in his hand with a loud gulp. Enzo watched as he then stumbled by him to make his way to the den. There he found the bar and poured himself another drink. Empty glasses and bottles littered the room.
"I just told you that your brother's missing. Don't you have anything to say?"
Stefan looked him dead in his face. And belched.
"You're drunk," Enzo noted, no attempt to hide his disgust.
He'd never cared for Stefan. The do-gooder Salvatore of compassion and guilt and hair gel. The vampire Saint of Mystic Falls. While he and Damon acknowledged what they were, enjoyed the hunts and kills, Stefan fed on animals and abstained from human blood. When he did drink it, Stefan opted for blood bags "donated" from hospitals and clinics. He frowned upon Enzo and Damon's "fresh from the vein" method.
"You're British," Stefan countered in a slurr.
"Cheerio Mate."
He chuckled drunkenly at himself.
"Unbelievable," Enzo found himself fuming.
Typical Stefan behavior. Running away. His brother was missing so what did he do? Get drunk and escape it all instead of getting off his ass and finding him.
"You're such a fucking ponce you know that? You can't face shit can you?"
Stefan didn't respond, his eyes glassy with intoxication. Were he a mere human he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning.
"You can't face your thirst so you drink animals. You can't face your nature so you bury it. Then when it's starving and can't take the dehydration you explode into a ripper, wipe out an entire coast and run away from that too. But that's not the worst part, no."
He stalked closer to Stefan, his hatred growing by the second.
"Even after all of that people still love you. They still consider you the hero of this town. Damon still considers you…"
His brother. His true flesh and blood brother. No matter what Enzo could do for him, had done for him—Damon would always choose Stefan over him. But what had Stefan done to earn it? Other than to come tumbling out of the same woman so many years ago? Enzo had given a year's worth of blood—literally starved for Damon at Whitmore. He'd given up his shot at freedom. And after being abandoned to burn in a fire he'd come to forgive Damon and given his friendship yet again.
Stefan raised his refilled glass high above his head in a toast.
"To heroes!" he slurred, tipping it toward his mouth.
The brown liquid poured over his lips, half missing the mark. That infuriated Enzo the more. Stefan, goddamned Stefan! Before he knew it, Enzo was up on him, slamming his face into the counter. Stefan garbled a protest but Enzo quickly shut him down. In his drunken state Stefan was no match. Seeing bloody red Enzo wailed on the younger Salvatore, the object of Damon's undying loyalty. He loathed him, he begrudged him, he envied him all at the same time. Everybody fucking loved Stefan. First Lily Salvatore had doted on her favorite son, then Katherine Pierce on her favorite lover, Elena Gilbert had loved him even after she'd chosen Damon and now even Caroline loved the son of a bitch.
What was so great about Stefan?!
Beyond rage, Enzo threw Stefan over the edge of the bar. His hands moved and he tore down his jeans. Stefan threw his arms out in an attempt to fight him off but Enzo repeated the face slam. Then he tore down Stefan's boxers.
"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but you need a real man to do that."
Enzo freed his semi-erection and stroked it to completion. He then took Stefan's perfectly toned glutes and spread them apart. He'd need lubricant. Rather than search, he bit into his own wrist drawing blood. Enzo then coated his hardness with it before pressing it to Stefan's unwilling body.
"Looks like I'm the only one here who qualifies."
He forced it inside in its entirety, giving the vampire no time for adjustment. Stefan yelped at the intrusion and tried to get away. But the liquor had dulled his coordination and the beating had stunned him. He stood no chance. Pleased with the power he held over him, Enzo began to thrust himself in and out. He groaned his pleasure.
Beneath him, Stefan was squirming but of no productive manner. The poor drunk had no idea which way was up. He only knew his daze and what Enzo was doing to him. With each strike inside Stefan yelped, tried to crawl away. He lifted his head and tried to see through the blood leaking down his face for explanation. Enzo watched his reaction, his total lack of control and felt a high like never before.
He fucking owned Stefan Salvatore right now. Sheer domination in every sense of the word. The realization made him hotter and he began to pump harder.
"You're no better than me," he hissed at his rival.
Stefan's body rocked under his force.
"You hear me!"
Stefan was crying out.
"You don't deserve him. You don't deserve his loyalty. You don't deserve his love!"
Enzo's fangs shot down as he fucked him even harder. His pace ventured up beyond what a human could stand. But Stefan was no human. So he didn't stop. He didn't relent.
"Stop…" the stunned vampire could barely form words.
"Please…"
Enzo took in the plea and shot it back with an even harder thrust.
"God!"
Stefan's body tensed. His eyes rolled back as he groaned deep and low. Enzo suddenly felt the constriction of Stefan's inner muscles as they tightened in orgasm. Thick globs of white began shooting down the bar. He glared down at his best friend's brother, noting the drunken tears escaping his eyes.
He was responsible. For Stefan's pain, for his pleasure, for his tears. Again the power over his rival turned him on and Enzo grunted in triumph. He carried on, the extra stamina granted with his vampirism serving him well. Stefan came again before passing out and a couple of times while unconscious. When Enzo finally released, he roared his pleasure, biting into Stefan's back with his fangs. He filled his cavity, pumping until the end. Afterward he readjusted his own clothes and took one last look at his enemy.
A tiny trickle of his semen ran down from Stefan's ass.
Witness the Great Stefan Salvatore.
Feeling much better, Enzo saw himself out, leaving Stefan asleep and exposed on top of the bar.
________________________
Stefan woke on the floor, broken glass shards digging into his back. The strong scent of liquor and sex lingered in his nostrils and he attempted to sit up.
"Geez."
He was naked. Lying on broken glass, reeking of alcohol.
What the hell happened?
The good thing about being a vampire was that you didn't suffer hangovers. And whatever damage he'd done in his drunken stupor had healed up by now. Well except for the current glass shredding his back. Slowly, gingerly he made his way to his feet. Wow, he'd really made a mess here. The bottles, the spilled liquor the—was that what he thought it was?! He kneeled down closer to examine the streaks leading down to a pooling. Geez, what had he been doing?
I'd swear never to drink again but that would be a lie.
Still he'd never gotten THIS messed up before. Even on his worst binge. Stefan shuddered. His worst binge hadn't had anything to do with alcohol. The two didn't even compare. Pushing his past aside, he decided to clean the damage here. Out of sight, out of mind. He could forget whatever fool he'd made of himself today. At least he'd been alone.
It didn't take long. Once the den was back to normal he took a moment to toss out his glass tainted shirt. He could still feel the few shards in his back but they were unreachable. Should he call for assistance? Caroline would be over in a heartbeat despite what had gone down. She was always someone he could count on.
So was Damon.
When it came down to it. Damon did a lot of things but he never abandoned his brother. And he'd paid the price for it. Again feeling himself sinking into grief, Stefan averted his attention to something else. Anything else. The shards in his back. He'd have to call Caroline to remove them. He found his phone half under the rug. Apparently it had fallen from his pocket during his drunken rampage. Inwardly thanking whatever that the screen was intact he called the one person left in Mystic Falls who he could trust.
"Stefan? Are you okay?"
He sat down, ignoring the dig his movement caused in his back.
"You know it's sad that our lives have gotten that reckless that this is how we have to greet each other," he half joked.
"But I'm okay considering."
Caroline blew a sigh of relief through the phone.
"Thank god. When Enzo said he'd paid you a visit he made it sound ominous."
"Enzo?"
He didn't remember seeing Enzo.
"Yea, he came by here asking about Damon. I told him I wasn't the Salvatore yellow pages and if he wanted to find Damon I was the last person to ask."
Stefan almost smirked at the quip. Caroline was no fan of his brother. In fact the only person in town who hated Damon more was probably Matt Donavan.
"And he said he'd paid me a visit?"
Stefan felt an odd twinge in his head as a cloudy image of Enzo crept in.
"…You're such a fucking ponce, you know that?"
"Yea, he said it all menacing like paying a visit was the equivalent to tearing your throat out or something. You know Enzo. Damon's evil twin."
Stefan glanced at the door.
"Damon's missing…"
It felt like recalling a dream.
"So he didn't drop by to harass you?" Caroline was asking.
"That's a relief. I figured he was just trying to intimidate me."
Stefan blinked, not really listening.
"You can't face shit can you?"
It was coming back, grainy but there. An uneasy feeling settled into his bones as he fought for the recollection of Enzo's visit. He'd come in, attitudinal as usual. He always had a chip on his shoulder when Damon wasn't around. The words came and went but there was something else.
Stefan's face hit the bar…
Images flashed, sensations popped up. Pain in his face. Pain in his back. Pain in his…
That couldn't have happened. That's just—no I had a crazy nightmare. There's no way.
But his face was crusted in dried blood. His pants had been at the foot of the bar. Along with another bodily fluid.
I was drunk. It was all some weird erotic nightmare because I was drunk. Enzo was Damon's friend so he appeared to punish me for not saving him.
But as he tried to convince himself he'd already started for the door. Outside he found his motorcycle and climbed on.
"Stefan? Did you hear what I just said?" Caroline hadn't stopped talking.
He had no interest in whatever she was saying.
"I have to go."
He ended the call abruptly before securing his phone in his pocket and pulling off. As he sped through town the dream danced around his head. Still not completely clear but the impressions stuck. There was pain, contempt and a complete loss of control. They were real, even if he wasn't sure about the images. Stefan felt a clench in his chest.
Real and a tad bit familiar.
By the time he arrived at Enzo's place the dream had worked him up. Confusion, apprehension and a heaping dose of anger filled him as he banged on the front door.
"Enzo! Open up!"
The home was rather upscale—not to compete with Salvatore Manor but Enzo had compelled his way into a pretty decent dwelling in a pretty decent area. The kind of area that wouldn't likely tolerate angry young men banging on doors. But Stefan didn't care. The harder he hit the door the more he wanted it to be Enzo.
"Open this goddamn door right now!"
His wish was granted when Enzo's car pulled up in the driveway. Stefan spun around, storming toward him as he exited the vehicle.
"What the hell happened when you came by my house today?" he demanded to know.
Enzo stood his full height, a cocky smirk on his face that sickened Stefan.
"Nice of you to stop by. I wish you'd called first. I would've prepared something."
Stefan squared off, glaring him directly in the eyes.
"Don't fuck around, Enzo. Tell me what happened!"
He seemed to find Stefan's anger amusing.
"Interesting choice of words," he chuckled.
Infuriated, Stefan yanked him by his collar with both hands, nearly spitting in his face.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!"
His face was burning red, his eyes stinging with emotion. His fists trembled as he held the his brother's friend in place for an answer. Yet as he demanded one a part of him already had it. A part of him remembered the nightmare. Remembered the shame. As if reading that part of him, Enzo's smile grew. Like a shark, leering and dangerous at the same time. He reached up to Stefan's fists and covered them with his own. All humor left his eyes.
"I fucked you like the bitch that you are."
His honesty threw Stefan off and he had to blink to process.
"I beat the piss out of your face and then I fucked the shit out of your asshole. You were drunk and helpless and you begged me to stop. Right before you blew you load on your own bloody bar."
He squeezed Stefan's fists just short of breaking bone.
"And after that I did it again and again. And you know what you did? You came again and again."
Stefan couldn't breathe. All of a sudden his air was cut short. Memories flooded him in clear detail now, sent to him telepathically by Enzo. He saw it all from his attacker's point of view, the way he'd been slammed into the bar, his pants torn down. He saw the fruitless struggle, heard his own drunken cries as Enzo had pummeled his insides. He tried to pull back, away from the gross violation but Enzo's grip tightened further.
The images kept coming, his naked body overrun by the other vampire. Humiliation burned through Stefan, consuming him until he heard himself yelling for Enzo to stop. He wasn't aware of the moisture gathering in his eyes until the images ceased. Only then did Enzo release him. In shock, Stefan stumbled backward, falling to the lawn. As he tried to breathe Enzo stood over him, clearly enjoying his effect.
"Now you know what happened. Are you satisfied? Because I was."
Overwrought, Stefan took a clumsy swing at him but missed entirely.
"You—you son of a bitch!"
He couldn't see straight, couldn't think at all. All he could see was himself being violated repeatedly. Begging semi-coherently for it to stop like…like a child.
Familiarity hit. He'd been here before. This feeling of complete helplessness, of anxiety and misery. He'd bathed in these waters, sunken below.
But I was never…
"So what, did you come back for more?" Enzo taunted.
"You enjoy yourself a little too much?"
To further the insult, he began to unbuckle his belt. The sight brought on a panic that drove Stefan to his feet. With vamp speed he was on his bike. He didn't look back at Enzo as he tore off into the street and away from his nightmare turned real. As he dodged other vehicles, narrowly missed pedestrians, Stefan fought for composure. This wasn't him, running away from Enzo of all people. He'd faced off with worse over the centuries, hell in the past few years. But this…what Enzo had done was…it had triggered something in him almost as deep as his bloodthirst.
Stefan continued his ride, his body on auto-pilot. He didn't stop when he hit the highway, when he passed the town sign nor when he crossed the state border. There was only one place that he could think of—one place where he could feel safe and secure enough to collect himself. That place was in the arms of the one he'd walked out on decades ago. That place was in New Orleans.