Title: Best Spot In Town
Author: Daisy
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Stark's Pond
Pairing: Damien Thorne/Pip Pirrup
Characters: Damien Thorne, Pip Pirrup
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 909
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluffish
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Pip was surprised when Damien wanted to watch the fireworks with him, but he was even more surprised by what he saw in them.
AN: This is my first actual entry for the Fanfiction-Friends Flash Fiction Month thing, I missed the first three days but still want to write for them. xD Anyway, I'm still big into South Park, so expect more of this. ouo
Best Spot In Town ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
American holidays weren't always the number one thing on Phillip Pirrup's list of things to celebrate. Considering he was tormented by the other kids constantly, the Fourth Of July was usually a holiday that he would avoid, but this year was going to be different.
Pulling on his best pair of knee-high socks, shining up his shoes as best he could, Pip dedicated himself to looking as good as a poor, British orphan could in this day and age. Damien was going to watch the fireworks show with him tonight, and the sixteen year old wasn't about to mess it up by looking like he'd just crawled out of a sewer, no matter how true that might be.
Walking around Stark's Pond to find the little blanket he was promised was no small feat, what with everyone in town out by the water, trying to get the best spot. It wasn't until what looked like an early explosion went off from the small cliff overlooking everything that he finally got the hint. With a small, sincere smile on his face, he climbed up to the black and red checked blanket, smoothing the silken edges between his fingers.
"I was beginning to think you were going to blow me off." That voice had really dropped over the years, the deepness of it enough to nearly have Pip crawling on his belly to get closer, even if he knew that this wasn't how friends were supposed to act.
"I'd never do that, Damien, you're my best friend." He replied, instead, though his entire body was still fairly low to the ground as he sat down and undid the latches on his satchel. "I brought you something," He added, "I found a recipe for deviled eggs and managed to scrape together the resources." Pulling a little, homemade deviled egg container out of his bag, he presented them to his only friend, a fragile kind of smile on his face.
Damien considered the present for a few moments, his mind shooting over various possible meanings of this, whether or not Pip should be the first of the fireworks for the evening, or if he should text his father and see what he thought. In the end, however, when the blond gave that dejected sigh and started to put them away, he lunged forward and grabbed them up. Careful not to smoosh the container, he made the extra effort to pop the lid and take one, tossing it back and letting the flavor soak into his tongue. Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad, and he relaxed with a full-body sigh, laying back on the blanket he'd brought and delighting in its need to stretch itself out to accomodate him.
"They're good, Pip." He offered, finally, bringing a smile back to the other's face.
"Thank you, Damien. I was hoping you'd like them." Came the soft response, and as things were settled, Pip found himself closer and closer to the son of Satan, before he was laying with him and practically spooned into his side. Much like Hell, the much larger kid was so warm, Pip wondered how he could be wearing a turtleneck and pants in the middle of summer. He supposed he was used to it, yawning around his hand as he nested his head against the other's chest.
Before he knew it, two pm had turned into ten, and Damien was shaking him awake with a surprising lack of force.
"Wake up, Pip. You're going to miss all the fun." He hissed in his ear, placing what could have been a kiss on his cheek. Figuring it was just his imagination, the sixteen year old turned his head a bit, gawking at the superb light show around them. "I helped with the fireworks this year." Came the next rumble in Damien's chest, and Pip had to chuckle at that.
"You did a marvelous job, Damien. It's beautiful." The Brit gasped, watching the reds and oranges explode across the sky, dark figures running amok among them, as if playing hide and seek from the light. It absolutely took his breath away, and as he snuggled up closer, Damien pointed directly above them.
"Look, this one's special." He muttered, his voice a deep rumble against the blond's ear as he jostled him about to get him to look.
Above them, a rather accurate representation of what had happened when they first became friends appeared in fire and bright lights, and every function Pip's body ever had stopped in its tracks. The explosions in the sky seemed to switch and pull and guide themselves into a new shape; and now, Pip wasn't sure what to make of it.
Be Mine. I'm Not Asking. was spelled out above them, and while he was sure that some of the less intelligent people in their town were probably flipping out, he was still and calm. Turning his head slightly only to find lips pressed to his, he melted into the kiss, letting Damien position him however he saw fit. When they broke apart, the quaking blond nodded.
"I'll be yours." He whispered, lips bruised from the force of the kiss.
"Forever?"
"Forever."
"You know, that's a long time, Pip." He whispered, smirking like he'd just won the lottery, "You'll be mine even after you die."
That sounded better than most other predicaments he ever got into, honestly, and Pip ended up leaning back in for another kiss.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
