A/N: Angst like DAAAMMMNN and mild explicit-ness. (It's not that explicit but…) And did I mention ANGST!? Un-beta. And AAAANNNNGGGGGSSSSSTTTTT!


Damien never thought himself the type to stare from afar. He's subtle about flirting with and presenting himself to girls, but he's never thought to be the type to stare and hope and wish with a dewy doe-like gaze in his eyes. But his cousin was an exception. To Damien, Mark was always exceptional. Damien loved his cousin more than a cousin should. He loved him more than anything.

He may have panicked when he found out he was the Anti-Christ, but the night when Mark bothered him about him running, his dreams were sweet.

He dreamed Mark was his. The taller and svelte form curled around Damien's smaller one, those soft auburn and strawberry blonde locks tucked underneath Damien's chin. The Anti-Christ's hands were gently caressing the silk-like skin on his beloved's frame. Damien's hands memorize every dip and curve of his pseudo-cousin's gorgeous body and they freeze at his chest. Under the warm duvet, the tender and bruised skin right over Mark's heart fills Damien's fingertips with a pleasurable tingling, knowing that Damien himself put it there.

A circle of three sixes, just like the scar-birthmark on his head. Mark belonged to him.

Mark shifts as Damien moves and kisses the ring of the Devil's number. Mark shyly backs away with a soft whine, but Damien's arm around his waist prevents him from being an arm's length away from the Anti-Christ.

"Mine."

Mark gives up a soft sigh and his feather-light touch brushes the back of his hand across Damien's face, his rustic eyes sparkling with sleepy tears and adoring smile. Damien's heart flutters and he can't help but smile back.

"I love you, Damien."

"I love you too."

Mark tucks himself back into Damien's embrace and the devil-child can feel his lover's lashes flutter close. Returning his arm to Mark's torso, he kisses Mark on the forehead and his own eyes lower to cover his own emerald eyes.

When they close in his dreams, his eyes awaken to the thundering of the trumpet in the morning. He knows the dream is not coming true even though he's no longer Mark's cousin. But his beloved one and only doesn't need to know that. Mark should never have to know any of this, ever.


"The Beast has no brother!"

You're right Mark, the Beast has no brother. He has his one and only love in the world.

Damien's heart can't take any more of this. He wants to beg Mark to stop. He wants to fall to his knees and let those tears melt through the icy barrier that Mark has placed between them. Inside, he's screaming, banging on that metaphorical boundary that his cousin, no, his Mark has made to divide them. Damien wants nothing more than to run over and hold him. He wants to tell him that they can rule this earth together. That Damien will be stronger than even God himself because God can give his heart to no one, but Damien can give his heart to him. He can do anything out his love for Mark. All Mark has to do is say that he loves Damien too.

He had dreamed of Mark knowing before, but it was so much different and still vaguely the same.

They're in a forest clearing together, a soft sprinkle of snow around them. Their bodies are trapped in each other's, their skins too hot to feel the cold. Sweat sheens on their bodies and Damien lets euphoria drown him. Mark gives off a sound; half-screaming half-gasping and completely in pleasure. A shiver runs up Damien's spine as he knows Mark's body better than probably the blonde knows it himself. He sees the tears well up on the corner of those glossy eyes, the warmth from them melting the soft blanket of white around them. But more than anything, he see his Mark's glimmering heart pour out unspoken screams of 'I love you' all for him.

Damien can't resist him like this.

He devours Mark's everything in a single passionate, almost burning kiss. Damien knows Mark has submitted into his dominance but the slightly elder boy has such a powerful hold over the Anti-Christ, that a single stroke of his tongue on Damien's and it's clear who the true seducer in this relationship is. Damien moans and draws himself further into Mark, if that is even possible. Mark screeches with ecstasy and that sound is sweeter than any scream of pain Damien has ever heard.

"It…h-hurts."

"I know. But you're close. It'll feel good soon."

Mark's complexion is luminous with the salty tears Damien licks off his face. He can feel Mark's eyes about to slip under as the feeling of completion rings close to the both of them, like a thrumming vibration through both their bodies. He can't let that happen. He wants Mark to see him. See who's filling him with such warmth and love. Make him look at the one and only person in this world who can breathe the same breath and make him lose it at the same time.

"Don't close your eyes."

He doesn't.

When they come, it's in the same one moment, not a single fleeting beat off. Emerald takes in all the pleasure and submerges itself into the gentle washes of the rustic brown-hazel. He can feel Mark's arms around his neck pulling him closer, as if it was possible to meld them both together into one. Damien's face is completely aligned with Mark's; foreheads are pressed against each other, noses brushing, lips only a butterfly flutter away from a sweet kiss. Panting in the same breaths, their hearts are beating in sync, not a single beat able to differentiate from the other.

It was the only dream Damien truly treasured. But here Mark is, destroying that fragile crystal with every curse that comes out of his mouth. Each breath of hatred Mark breathes serves only to worsen the ache. Damien wants to tell Mark, here on this snowy clearing in the forest that he's not going to be the monster that Mark thinks he is. And even if he was, Damien would never let Mark see him like that. He wants him to know how much he wishes they could be together. One single kiss to tell him that he loves him. Mark isn't willing to even get close now, for every step Damien inches forward; Mark takes two large steps back. He's trying to separate himself from the Anti-Christ. Damien can't let that happen. He won't stand for anyone trying to tear them apart. He can't let it happen, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Mark's strangled breath is all Damien can stand. Because if Mark died screaming, Damien's cracking heart would shatter completely.

And for once, Damien wishes something was just a dream instead of reality.

It's just a dream.

He wonders with each step that he pushes forward, if that shattering sound is the wall that Mark has placed between them crumbled or the last little fragments of his heart destroyed completely.

It's just a dream.

He is numb to the world; the icy cold doesn't touch his face, fiery tears are unfelt as they burn wet trails upon his delicate face, the trembling shivers that rake through his frame, and the focus of everything else is blurry except for that perfect sleeping face of his love.

It's just a dream.

He falls to his knees, stealing the first and last kiss he'll ever steal, he'll ever have, or that he'll ever even dream of having. Mark's lips are just as he imagined them to be; soft, gentle, and warm. He is still for all those passing moments his broken thoughts slug through his mind. When the curse of air is too much, Damien almost wishes for asphyxiation if it means he would always stay in this one kiss.

It's just a dream.

He can take no more than a few steps away before he has to look back at the one person that stole heart away, only to cruelly thrust it back to him broken and in fragments. When he does…

It's just a dream.

Damien screams.

It's just a dream…


A/N: I just got yelled at and punished by my mother, but I still drilled to ya. I deserve some sort of review, don't I? But really, I'm so sorry for the angst that I have just set upon you guys. I mean, I know this pairing isn't supposed to be sweet (what, Damien being the Anti-Christ and all) but I refused to have Mark as the one pining after Damien. I'M SORRY. I will endure the rotten tomatoes now. *holds up shield*