Chapter 1: What He Needs

"Who…?" Pip's head whipped around find his eyes locking with the eyes of the boy he hadn't seen in years. "D-Damien? Is that you?"

Damien smiled and released the blonde so he could stand. He remembered him! He had been afraid that Pip had forgotten all about him and would freak out when he looked back at him, thinking he was some pervert. "I'm glad to see that you remember me."

"But of course I do," Pip smiled in return, "you were the only one to talk with me in primary school."

Damien's lips formed a tight line. "No one spoke to you after I left?" He found it hard to believe that he had really been Pip's only friend throughout elementary school, the blonde was so kind and honest. How could no one be friends with him?

He shook his head. "No, not a soul. I finally became mates with Kyle in junior high, and then with Stan at the beginning of high school, but it did take some time. What's wrong?"

The anti-Christ's face was covered in shock. Pip had made the leap from pariah to boyfriend in a polyamorous relationship? How did that happen? And how did he miss it? "Y-You've been dating?"

Pip tilted his head to the side just slightly, making Damien turn light red as he realized how cute it made the Brit look. "Dating? Oh heavens no. I suppose there was a part of me that wanted to date Kyle or Stan, but I haven't. Actually, I was only involved with Kenny during junior year of high school because he was trying to get in my pants the entire time. Shortly after he did, we…well, we were through."

Oh, he meant "mate" as in "friend," not an actual mate, Damien realized. It took an extra few seconds, but what Pip had ended with finally hit him. Kenny had used him? What the hell? Damien ground his teeth together. "That son-of-a-bitch," he growled out.

"Damien?" Pip leaned forward and braced himself on the back of the park bench to look the anti-Christ directly in the eyes. "What is it?"

Regardless of his anger, Damien couldn't help but think the slight upturn of the blonde's golden eyes looking innocently up at him was adorable. He turned light red again and turned his head away so Pip couldn't see. "I just… Why would anyone use you like that?"

"Well, it's really my own fault," he straightened back up and began to innocently grind the toe of his dark gray sneaker into the grass and his hands linked behind his back, "I should have known that Kenny would just use me. I mean, every person knows he is about sex. But," he shrugged, "that doesn't matter anymore. It was over a year ago."

Damien walked around the park bench and grabbed the Brit by his shoulders. "It 'doesn't matter?' Pip, you were used, taken advantage of! It doesn't bother you?"

"Should it?" When a shocked look past over Damien's face, Pip continued, "These things happen Damien, and there's nothing anyone can do to prevent it. Dwelling on it doesn't change the fact that it happened."

Damien sighed and pulled Pip against him. "At least tell me you yelled at him."

"Well, n-no, but it really was my fault anyway."

"Godammit Pip!" What was wrong with Pip? Why was he still so nice? He needed to grow some fucking balls!

Pip rested his forehead against Damien's bare chest as his hands trailed down the noirette's front, his fingers running over every bump and crease that made up the muscles of the teen he was leaning against without realizing it. By the time he did, his hands were at the top of Damien's pants and said anti-Christ was getting hard. Damien moaned quietly as his mind wandered off to think of what Pip was getting close to doing. At hearing Damien's moan, Pip turned the brightest shade of red possible and backed out of his arms.

"U-Um, I should p-probably get going," the blonde stuttered out. He turned to run off but found his wrist caught by the noirette, causing him to stop. "Damien, please, I really should be getting home."

"Home? You mean that house your 'guardian' locked up without even telling you?" Damien's eyes narrowed.

Pip looked back at the anti-Christ with surprise. He really thought that Damien wouldn't know? "Well, that's because Dalia," he stopped for a moment and then mumbled, "hasn't seen her sister in…a long…time."

"Bullshit," Damien growled. "She could've at least left the door unlocked for you! That's not the sign of a home; it's the sign of a place you need to leave."

"…I can't just leave though," Pip muttered, "I'm still expected to live there until I have to move away for university in England. I'm not yet eighteen."

Damien sighed deeply. He hated that Pip was being stubborn, but he could tell just from the look of absolute certainty in his eyes. "Well, if you're not gonna move completely out…at least live with me in my apartment until Dalia returns."

Pip blinked. "What?" Damien was offering him a place to stay? He wasn't sure if he should accept. "I…I don't want to impose…I'll be fine–What're you doing?" He turned bright red again as the noirette scooped him into his arms bridal style.

"Taking you to my home." He smirked at the blonde playfully as he took long, quick strides down the street towards where he kept an apartment for the rare days he visited Earth.

"Oh my," Pip's arms flew around Damien's neck so he wouldn't fall, "please put me down. I can walk."

"You'll run off."

"…Well, I…I just don't want to be in the way…"

"You won't be. Besides, you really need a shower," Damien teased.

"I have taken showers!"

"More than just a quick rinse after gym class babe." He rolled his eyes. Pip really did stink, he smelled like a mixture of sweat, wet dog, and rancid garbage, while he looked like he just rolled through a pile of dirt - at least, his clothes did - and his hair was completely greasy. He obviously hadn't had a proper shower in a while.

"'B-Babe?'" Pip squeaked.

Damien rolled his eyes again. "It's just a title Pip, calm down."

Pip turned red again. "Oh, uh, y-you're right…sorry." He should've known. He's been in America long enough to catch onto American slang, but he supposed he probably left Britain at an inopportune time for him to learn new terms that he hadn't already known. It probably wasn't that though, it was probably the fact that a friend he hadn't seen in years was being overly informal, (this was more likely of course).

Damien smiled at the sight of the flustered Brit. He looked too cute when he was embarrassed! "You shouldn't apologize," he placed Pip back onto his feet but kept an arm hooked firmly around his thin waist as he stopped in front of his apartment door, "for something I said."

Pip's lips tightened into a straight line and his hands laced together in a prayer-like way in front of his chest when he realized there was no escape from the noirette. "Okay," he murmured.

Damien opened the door and gently pushed at Pip's lower back until he walked inside. The apartment was under furnished, having only an old jet back couch and a small TV sitting on a small TV stand in the living room; a single twin sized bed covered sloppily with a blood red comforter and a jet black sheet with one uncovered stained pillow was in the one bedroom; and a few washed plates and cups, and a single bowl sat on the ceramic tiled counter near the silver sink in the kitchen. The anti-Christ shut and locked the door behind him, he saw Pip tense at the sound of the gears clicking into place as the deadbolt locked. The poor blonde really looked uncomfortable, and Damien assumed it was because either, a) Pip realized he was being hit on, (which Damien wasn't trying to hide anyway), or b) Pip really thought he was imposing on his friend, (which he wasn't doing at all since Damien had insisted).

Damien walked forward and hooked his arm around Pip's waist again to lead him to the bathroom. "You need to take a shower. I'll lend you some of my night clothes for the night and we can go get your clothes washed tomorrow morning."

"Oh, uh, thank you Damien." Pip smiled and walked into the bathroom. He stopped when he saw there was no shower curtain at all for the white ceramic bathtub/shower. Actually, there was only the bare minimum in the small bathroom: a small mirror, a single toothbrush, a large tube of toothpaste, a brush and a comb, and a cheap wild flower scented air freshener next to a roll of toilet paper on the back tank. "Um, Damien…!"

"What?" Damien called back from his room, where he was searching for some night clothes that would fit Pip on the top shelf of his closet.

"There's no shower curtain in here."

He shrugged as he handed a pair of black night pants and a baggy white t-shirt to Pip. "No need for one. I'm rarely here, and when I am, I'm usually alone."

"Oh."

He pointed at the cabinet under the sink. "Towels are under the sink. You might wanna lay one on the floor next to the tub." He grabbed the doorknob. "Are you hungry?"

Pip shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I had lunch today."

Damien rolled his eyes. "You sure?"

"Of course."

"Okay… If you get hungry at any point in time, tell me. I keep some non-perishables in the cabinets."

"I shall."

Damien swung the door shut and stood there staring at the light wood door until he heard the shower start. When he heard the water running, he turned into the kitchen and reached into his fridge for a Mountain Dew. Normally he would reach for one of the Budweiser beers he always kept in the fridge, but he knew that alcohol could even get to him and he could easily lose control with Pip there. He didn't want that. Yes, he wanted to be with Pip, but he wanted it to be when he was aware of himself and only if Pip was willing.

He couldn't explain it, but there was something about that blonde haired golden eyed teen that pushed down his hate and brought out the miniscule amount of good in him. That's what he needed, someone to see the good in him and ignore he evil, someone who he could be himself with, someone worth protecting and even dying for. He needed Pip.