A/N: Early update because I love you guys.
WARNING: There is explicit sexual content in this chapter. You've been warned.
For the next two days we fall into a routine schedule. I'd head off to school every morning and Damien would spend his time watching TV and playing video games. He and I would cook according to who's turn it was, but wouldn't really converse outside of the arguments he likes to pick with me for just the sake of seeing me lose control—which I haven't since that incident Wednesday, thank God.
Every morning he'll make us tea, which I'll admit is odd but nice so I don't question it. Lord knows how he'd react if I did. However, his scent grows stronger as the days pass and when Saturday comes along I have to visibly distant myself from him time to time. Luckily he doesn't seem bothered by this at all, so my fear of acting rude was quickly diminished.
It was nice to spend a quiet day without having to worry about school, despite the company. All day he sat in front of that TV playing his, well, 'Mortal Combat' I think he called it, and I read a few books from my small personal library. All was good and well, until that evening.
I stare at the folded piece of paper before me on the table before turning my eyes up to the devil-child. His face is twisted in a scowl and arms are folded across the black shirt covering his torso. Red eyes look anywhere but at me, and if I weren't so unfond of being set aflame I might ask what's wrong. Placing my book 'Great Expectations' down, I pick up the folded paper and begin to open it when Damien's hand suddenly shoots out and grips around my fingers harshly, forcing the paper close.
"Ow, ow, ow," I hiss, the nerves in my digits crying out as their pressed into odd angles, "Please let go of my hand, Damien!"
He does as I ask and refolds his arms. Cradling my fingers I look at the folded paper and then back at him, confused by his actions. "That's a list of things I need," he bites out through clenched teeth, "You are not to fucking read it until you're already in my car and driving away."
I quirk an eyebrow in confusion as he speaks—questions bubbling in the back of my mind. But, I keep silent and nod in response. I'll learn sooner or later what's on his mind.
Giving him a reassuring smile, I grab the piece of paper and walk over to the door. Pulling on my trench coat, newsy hat, and loafers I bid him farewell before heading out the door, pausing only to lock it. Loading into the truck I crank the engine to life and pull it out of the driveway into the street. Respecting Damien's wish I do not open the folded piece of paper until I'm parked on the side of the street on the market lane in town—not risking opening it while driving.
What I read makes my face flush red.
The list consists of an assortment of lubes, condom brands, and what I believe to be sex toys. Fanning my face, I refold the sheet of paper and fall back in the leather seat. Satan had said that I would need to provide everything for Damien's needs, but sweet baby Jesus.
No wonder Damien wanted me to leave the house before reading it.
My hands fiddle with the black credit card in my pocket as the gravity of the situation falls upon me. I will have to walk into a sex shop, purchase the items, and then walk out with the bag in hand to my truck. People will see me—God forbid some of the observers being my own classmates. My reputation will change for the worse if I'm seen. It's not good now but dear Lord. I can already imagine some of the jeers and taunts I can receive on Monday if seen.
Taking a deep breath, I exit the truck on the passenger side and walk down the sidewalk towards the first sex shop in sight. Not even caring to look at the name, I walk into the window-boarded shop—a small bell dinging upon my entrance. A middle aged man stands behind the counter, a comic book in his hand. Shifting his eyes over to me, he ushers for me to come to him. Hesitantly I do, my hands shaking.
"I.D.?" he asks, voice hoarse.
I quickly retrieve my driver's license from my wallet in my pocket and hand him what he asks for. His eyes lazily scan over it before handing it back and waving me away. Awkwardly, I stand there as he goes back to reading his comic book. My eyes shift over to the walls and disgust and embarrassment deepen the red on my cheeks. Male genitally line the walls, each one a different length, width, and color. Some even having painful looking nubs and ribs. I reopen the list and grimace. There's about ten different items on here, only three of the items I recognize. Turning back to the man I shyly say, "Um, excuse me?"
His eyes shift up over the comic book, an annoyed expression on his face. "D-do you have a basket or cart I can put my items into?" I stutter, a shaking hand holding up the list. The annoyance on his face gives way to confusion and setting down the comic book he asks, "Is this some sort of prank?"
"Huh? I-I'm sorry," I state, "I don't quite understand what you mean."
Holding out his hand, he motions to the paper in my hands. "You're shaking like a Chihuahua with a 'shopping list' in a sex shop. Did you lose a bet?"
I give a small nod. "Yes, you could call say that."
The employee sighs before reaching below the counter and pulling out a pink basket. In three strides he walks up to me and makes a 'gimme' motion for the list. Anxiously, I hand it over to him and watch in silence as he gathers all the materials into the container. In less than three minutes, the employee returns to the counter and I resist the urge to cover my face with my hands in shame.
"That'll be $30.04," he states and I reel back in shock.
Sin isn't cheap I suppose, I bitterly think handing over the black credit card.
After paying, he places the vulgar items into a black bag before handing it to me. With a 'thank you' I head out onto the streets and dash to my truck. Opening the door I throw the bag onto the passenger side floor when I hear a soft voice ask, "What are you doing?"
An undignified squeak leaves my mouth in shock and I whirl around to come face to face with Kenny. His eyes are crinkled in mirth and with a gloved hand he points to the bag.
"What ya got there Pippers?" he asks, a wide smile on his lips. I give an awkward chuckle before hopping inside, eyes still on the young man.
"Oh nothing, I just had to go out and get some things," I reply, "Why are you out here Kenny?" He shrugs.
"Had to get out of my house. Folks were having a drunken brawl again." My face falls and empathy fills my heart, the poor lad.
"Ah, don't give me the pity face," he gently laughs, "But, if you don't mind, can I get a ride home? I'm a little too tired to walk."
Without thinking I nod and scoot over to the driver's side, allowing him to climb in. Starting up the engine, my eyes fall back on the black bag and my heart freezes. Giving a sigh, I push the stick into drive and head down the street.
Dear God, please don't let him look inside the bag.
The ride to his house is relatively quiet besides the times that he'd speak to give me directions. My fingers tightly grip the wheel as the truck crosses the train tracks, Kenny's house straight ahead. With a few bumps I pull the truck into his dirt driveway and put the car into park, a huge smile covering his face as he turns to me.
"Thanks for the ride Pippers," he softly says unbuckling his seat, "But I have to ask. What is a boy like you doing in a sex shop?"
My face pales then reddens in shame. Hands hold the leathery wheel in a death grip, my heart freezing in shock. The humiliation of being found out eating away at my pride.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I quickly retort, a bit harshly.
His smile grows and with a shrug he opens the door before stepping out. Turning to me he says, "Whatever you say Pip. Have fun with your toys."
And, with that he shuts the door and runs into his house. Leaving me to wallow in my self-made puddle of disgust and shame.
Pulling in my driveway, I turn the car off and sit silently in the seat. My eyes fall on the black bag and curiosity gnaws at me at what all lays within. With a sigh I pull it into my lap, mentally preparing myself to look inside. I've already been humiliated and shamed beyond belief, what can simply looking into the bag do now?
I open it and quickly clench it shut. Red flushes across my cheeks and I shake my head in disbelief before daring to peek back inside. Unfortunately, my eyes hold no lies. There, nestled in-between two packs of flavored lube, sits a rubber replication of the male genitally—the word 'dildo' written across the top. Closing the bag between my clenched fists, repulsion and embarrassment fill me as unwanted thoughts of what or who Damien's going to use that for flood into my mind.
I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again.
Quickly, I open up the truck door and lock it before walking up to the front door—the black bag clenched securely in my fist. Unlocking the door, I walk inside and place the bag on the counter top, removing my hat, trench coat, and loafers to place them in their designated spots. Turning my head, I look over the couch and find Damien absent from his usual spot. Confused I call out, "Damien?"
Silence.
Worry buds to life in my mind, thoughts of someone breaking in and possibly doing him harm making me rush over to his room. "Damien?" I call, knocking the door, "Are you in there? May I come in?"
Again, I hear nothing but silence. Ignoring the rules reciting in my head on privacy, I open the door to find this room empty as well. My worry increases and with slight horror I think, Dear God please tell me someone didn't find him here.
Then I hear the sound of rushing water and anxiously walk over to the bathroom door. "Damien? Are you in there?"
Once again, no reply. Worry turns into fear and I rapidly bang my fist against the door. "Damien, are you alright? If this is a joke it isn't funny!"
My fear increases when all I can hear is the pit-a-patter of the shower and gripping the doorknob I give it a twist. The door slides open with no resistance, the water drops becoming clearer to my ears. Steam fills the room and I have to wave a hand in front of my face to keep from coughing. Looking towards the shower-tub I see the blurry outline of a hellish looking figure.
"D-Damien?" I softly call, "Are you alright?"
A pained groan meets my ears, his voice broken and weak. "It hurts…it fucking hurts…"
My mind reels. "What hurts? Should I get the first-aid kit?"
An inhuman growl replies and a clawed hand tears through the thin shower curtain. I stubble back in fear; lower back sharply hitting the bathroom sink. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the sound of the shower curtain ripping, a low growl echoing in the small titled room. My eyes widen as the shower curtain tumbles to the floor, the bar that held the curtain up snatched from its place. The once steady beating of my heart increases in pace, adrenaline starting to pump through my veins as an unrecognizable fear holds me in its grasp. Damien stands tall in the water droplets, his pale body drenched; the torn fabric laces around his claws hand, a pair of golden hued horns curving from his head and under his ears. The young man's scent washes over me like the angry sea and I begin to feel my eyes hood in response, conflicting with the growing fear that picks at the back of my mind and makes my body shake.
Without thought, my gaze racks over his lean form. Starting at his thin muscular arms down his chest and to his shallowly outlined stomach. Gulping, I turn my eyes in shame when I see the cause of his despair. The tip has turned an unhealthy shade of purple, the thick vein underneath visibly pulsing when hitting the air.
"It…fucking…hurts," he hisses taking a step out of the tub, the water slushing at his feet, "Try for hours…after you left…nothing…FUCK!"
I look back up at his face in fear as he screams, those red eyes narrowing in on me. Without a second thought I run out of the bathroom, hearing his feet pad after me. Quickly, I jump over the bed and turn, Damien stopping on the other side. A snarl grows on his face.
"Get rid…of it," he pants, "NOW!"
With some difficultly he beings to walk around the bed towards me and I stutter, "Now, D-Damien, don't be rash!"
As he lunges I jump over the bed to the other side, narrowly escaping his claws. I turn back to the devil-child, his face twisted in anger and pain. "I-I told you," I stammer as he begins to walk back over to me, "I will n-not help you with t-this. If you wait a little bit, I…I can find someone and—"
"You'll do for now."
I freeze at his words and he lunges for me. Despite trying to run across the bed again, he encloses one of my wrists in a clawed hand. His fangs show in a pained smile and in one fluid motion I'm thrown on the bed, my wrist still in Damien's strong grip. I struggle and kick, using my one free hand to try and push him away. My foot collides with his chest and with a growl the devil-child forces it down before smacking my hand off. His arm loops under my waist and thin hips press into mine, the heat of his excitement digging in-between my legs.
Groaning through clenched teeth, I try to push him off again; my nails leaving scratches on his shoulder. Cold-water droplets fall on my face and build, soaking through my pants and shirt. Contrasting sharply with the fire spreading through my veins. I shiver as he grinds his hips into mine, a gasp leaving my lips. Against my better judgment, my free arm wraps around his neck and pulls him closer, fingers digging into his tangled wet hair. His other hand lets go of my wrist and I freeze when I feel claws start to pull at the hem of my pants.
No, no, no, no, no!
Without thinking I shove my released hand down and grab his erection, the effects following immediate. A soft groan leaves Damien's lips as he shuts his eyes, the clawed hand around my pants shooting up into my blonde hair. My eyes widen in surprise as the demon-child arches into my touch, squishing my hand between his stomach and mine. The fire in my gut grows wilder when a soft growl echoes in his throat, mouth open in ecstasy and eyes screwed shut. The exotic look added to him by his horns and fangs both frightening and exciting.
Slowly, experimentally, I move my hand up and down the length, letting out a sudden gasp when his other hand runs up my arm and curls its finger in my hair in response. Another groan escapes his mouth through clenched teeth and pale hips begin to move on their own against my hand. Shaking, I bring up my other hand and dig my fingers softly into the others hips; pushing back a little, silently commanding for his hips to stop. He growls but surprising stills, shaking as my other hand picks up its speed. Its grip tightening as it rises to the tip. His eyelids flutter before his face digs into the nape of my neck, making me in freeze in anticipation and fear.
Curses begin to fall loosely from his lips, the heat in my hand and on my neck increasing with every word said. My grip instinctively tightens and Damien shouts, "Fuck!". His pale form shivers as all his weight falls on me, his seed coating my shirt and hand. I lay there, waiting for him to pull back and react. He never does and instead, I begin to hear snoring in my ear.
Rolling him onto the side of the bed, I scoot away and head into the kitchen. Grabbing a bunch of paper towels I wipe the semen from my hands with a scowl and throw the wads into the trash before returning to Damien's bed. His facial features have softened, relaxed from his usual snarl or sneer. As I roll him onto his back I can't help but think of him slightly…handsome when like this. My face reddens as my own prick twitches in agreement and I hastily wipe the white residue from the young man's torso. Pulling away the covers from the end of the bed, I wrap him up as best I can and head over to the bathroom; making sure to lock both entrances.
Scrunching up my nose in disgust I carefully remove the ruined red shirt and place it face up on the floor, making a mental note to throw it out later. Pulling off the rest of my clothes I throw them into the hamper, fix the shower curtain as best as I can, and step into the still running shower. I recoil and yelp at the cold temperature before quickly twisting the knob for hot water. A pleasured sigh exits my lips as warm water replaces the chilling cold when a thought comes to mind.
How could the bathroom have been filled with steam if the water was cold?
Shrugging my shoulders, I don't linger on this question and instead gaze down my body's own excitement. Though I'm more confused than anything. While the young man sleeping in my departed sister's room is appealing to look at, his manners and morals that I've seen exercised in the past are anything but. Still, there was a moment there when I…reacted to him as well. Humiliation wells up in my chest as I continue to think, the fact that I caved in for even just a second making me upset. With great difficulty, I silence my mind and start on washing my hair.
A/N: Well, now that that's done and I'm as red as a tomato, I feel as if I should clear up something. I have no idea who is going to top in this story, so don't assume. And, don't ask. Just don't.
On another note, thank you everyone who reviewed last chapter. I hope to hear more from you little 'Ghost Readers' ;) I love hearing what you all think and like about this story. Favorites and follows are good too, but what I love best is to hear from you all. After all, it's you that I'm writing for.
Sorry that it's a bit short. However, I feel that this is a good place to end this chapter, and I like for each chapter to have one big point/development.
South Park (c) Trey Parker and Matt Stone