Author Note: My huge thanks to Aiconx, , mangamoo1, Bethany C. Mackenzie, NotebookChen and let's point out the obvious for the reviews! They're always very welcome and make me feel loved, lol.

This chapter is a little later than I thought it would be, my computer has completely and totally died on me. Which is bloody annoying. Fortunately, I backed a lot of work up. Unfortunately, this chapter wasn't finished when I did and I'd already written the rest of it once (and not backed up, because I am an idiot). The laptop I'm using keeps turning itself off unexpectedly and it's very frustrating. Yet still better than nothing at all.

Um, I really hope you all like this chapter – I have The Fear about posting it. Let me know if you liked it, or if you didn't, and why. Love you guys!

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It comes down to this, your kiss, your fist...

-:-:-;-

Gregory knelt by the hole for what seemed like a long time, although in reality it couldn't have been for more than fifteen minutes or so. The daggers were gone. The thought kept revolving around his head. The daggers were gone and he was screwed. He had no back-up plan. There was nothing else he knew of that would dispose of Damien, his research had brought up nothing else. Damien had played him all along.

But no, that didn't seem accurate. He hadn't seemed to know that Gregory had the daggers, rather he seemed to be trying to persuade the blonde that they would be of no use to him and it was no use looking for them. And if he knew about them and had been the one to take them, there would have been no satisfaction in bringing them into the conversation at that point. It would have been more amusing for the Antichrist to let him keep his hope until the final moment, knowing that while Gregory planned the daggers were missing.

But Damien himself had said, he had eyes everywhere. Maybe one of the people who served him had discovered Gregory's hiding place, seen him or something – he hadn't noticed anyone though, except that bird. He shivered, looking over his shoulder for the crow. It was still there, staring at him impassively and his hands itched to find a rock to throw at it. He didn't like how alert it seemed.

And it didn't matter anyway. The daggers were gone and he didn't see any way of getting them back.

Now, he had no way of killing Damien. He had been ready to do it, prepared mentally with a plan in place for what he was doing and now, he had been thwarted. It made him feel angry and impotent, as if he was powerless. As if he had no control over events at all. He loathed feeling that way, it only sent more frustration through him. Normally, he would have thought his way around the problem, something new that he could try instead. But there was nothing. There was nothing that could be done, nothing new to try.

And he still had to face fucking Damien. After all, they shared a room.

He rose, noticed the debris and mud clinging to the knees of his uniform and brushed it off. Not that it would matter, he thought despondently. Damien would notice. When it came to the things Gregory didn't want him to see, Damien always noticed. And, thought Gregory blackly as he rubbed his hands together to rid them of dirt, he would laugh. That last thought made Gregory grit his teeth with rage. He hated for anyone to get the better of him and he hated to be laughed at.

He didn't bother filling in the damn hole, merely left the woods and headed back to his room. His hands were buried in his pockets and he dragged his feet – and why not? There was nothing to rush back for now. Nothing left to continue pretending for. Damien's birthday was the day after tomorrow and Gregory had nothing. Nothing. He had failed.

But as he approached his own room, his head lifted and the mask came down. No way was he giving the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him rattled or knowing that he had no plans of how to get rid of him. His face was impassive as he walked into the room, where Damien was lying barefoot on the bed with their literature text in hand, on his back with the book over his head. But as he heard the door open, he looked up at Gregory and smirked.

Gregory walked to the bathroom, ignoring the look on Damien's face and washing his hands in the sink. He met his eyes in the mirror, not pleased with what he saw. For the first time in a long time, his naked frustrations were showing on his face. His blue eyes were cold and furious, lips pressed tightly together. An idiot could tell that he was in a foul mood and for all his flaws, Damien was not a fool. He tried to plaster a more neutral expression on, without success. The failure only pissed him off more, Damien was going to know how unnerved he was by the situation and exploit it to make him feel worse. Gregory felt a spark of bright hatred for the Antichrist and this emotion he didn't bother pushing away.

Going back out to their shared room, Gregory kicked off his muddied shoes and then his socks, sprawling out on the bed and grabbing his DS. It was too close to curfew to go out for another cigarette (until he was sure the patrol had left of course) and besides, sometimes it was a good thing to forget all about a problem, take ones mind off things for a while and come back to it with a fresher outlook. This time, it didn't seem to be working. The problem was too big and time was against him, he simply couldn't forget about it, even for a moment. He was obsessing over it, it simply wouldn't leave his thoughts.

Mr Neff put his head around the door to check they were both there ten minutes later, maybe the atmosphere in the room got to him or perhaps it was the look Gregory gave him over his game of solitaire, because he left and closed the door firmly behind him without comment. As soon as they were both sure the teacher had gone, Damien turned his head to look at Gregory. Gregory kept his eyes firmly on his console, moving the cards around the screen although he could feel the weight of the other boys stare on him, like something unpleasant crawling over his skin.

"You're not going to find a way to defeat me you know," said Damien suddenly. "You'll never get a victory over me and you know why?"

"Don't fucking push me Damien," snarled Gregory, losing the game and putting the DS on his bedside table before he threw the machine at Damien's head. "All I need is a reason, so don't fucking push me."

Damien stood up and removed his tie, throwing it carelessly onto the bedside table, ignoring Gregory's words. "You won't win because I know who and what you are. I know what drives you. I know what you're afraid of. You can't defeat me because I don't fear guilt, or shame, or consequence, or eternal damnation in Hell. You do."

He laughed as Gregory's frown deepened, crossing the space between their beds to look down at the other boy. "And you're not scared of me, even now," he said with mild wonder. "At least, not on the surface."

"I'm warning you."

"I can hear the way your heart speeds up though. Is that adrenaline? Anger? Or is it fear?"

"Hardly. Fuck off."

"I think it's fear. You don't know how you're going to deal with me, there's no obvious solution and you fucking hate it, don't you?"

Gregory was off the bed before Damien could move, grabbing the other boy by the collar of his shirt and hissing a response into his face. "You should know what fear is. You've been sulking your way around ever since you realised what your eighteenth meant, haven't you? Too damn scared of fighting against something you clearly don't want – wait, that's not it either. You're too damn scared of trying to fight and failing, of everyone knowing you failed, that you might be seen as weak, or fallible or – or human..."

Damien's hand reached around Gregory's wrist with bruising force, the teasing light gone from his eyes. He tore Gregory's hand loose from his collar, pushing him away. Gregory took a couple of steps back, then launched himself forward, grabbing Damien's shirt again and shoving backward with all his considerable strength. Taken aback, Damien didn't protect himself and fell, landing on his ass and spending only a moment gathering his rage before leaping to his feet and throwing himself at Gregory, both of them falling back onto the bed and rolling off the other side with a crash. The sound would usually have brought the other students and the dorm-master on the run, but Damien didn't want to be interrupted at that point; wanting only the chance to beat the living shit out of his room mate. At his will, the rest of the building took no notice of the noise, no one thinking that it could be anything of import.

They landed on the floor, Gregory on top, Damien getting the breath knocked out of him as his back hit the ground. Gregory made a fist and landed a hard punch to Damien's midsection, winding him further. Damien growled and came up swinging, catching Gregory just above the eye and splitting the skin of his brow. The blow knocked the blondes head back and Damien capitalised, yanking Gregory's shirt hard enough to pop several of the buttons and throwing him onto his back.

Damien was strong and could fight, but he rarely had to; his words usually kept him away from trouble and it was rare that anyone who might challenge him didn't meet with an unfortunate accident before anything could happen. But right then he didn't want to use demonic abilities or to talk his way out of things, he wanted to break Gregory apart with his bare hands. It wasn't going to be that easy. Gregory was stronger, had been in many more skirmishes and was better able to anticipate what Damien would do. However, his own rage was working against him; it was a rare occasion that Gregory didn't manage to keep his cool even under the most pressing of circumstances and his anger was blinding him to the best way to win the fight.

Rolling on top of Gregory with his fist raised for another blow, Damien was met by a punch that took him by surprise, landing on his cheek and numbing the area. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that both of them would have some serious explaining to do in the morning – turning up to lessons with both of them battered would lead to one obvious answer – but right then, he didn't care. He was going to show this pretentious prick who was boss and the hell with the consequences.

He grabbed a fistful of Gregory's hair and bounced his head off the floor, going for the knockout. Gregory made a hurt sound and drew a knee up sharply, aiming for a blow to Damien's balls, catching him in his already abused stomach instead. With a gasp of pain, Damien dropped his head slightly as he pulled his stomach back and Gregory half-sat up, slamming his forehead into the bridge of Damien's nose.

Blood flowed and Damien saw red, lashing out with his right hand and catching Gregory in the mouth more by luck than design, having wanted only to hurt the other. Gregory fell back again before rising onto his elbow, hand curling into a fist. Breathing heavily, Damien flicked out his tongue to taste his own blood, running thickly from his nose, before barely moving in time to avoid a blow to the chin that might just have knocked him out, letting it land heavily on his shoulder instead, deadening his whole arm.

Gregory reached out and grabbed Damien's shirt, shoving him back to try for better leverage, bucking his body and knocking Damien aside. Gregory's eyes were half-lidded in anger, blood trailing down the side of his face and smeared across his mouth, dripping from his chin and staining the pale skin on Damien's face as the other straddled him, thighs trapping Damien's legs.

Damien saw Gregory's hand curl once more, bruised, torn knuckles still ready to do more damage. Instinctively, he grabbed the dangling ends of Gregory's tie, his other hand shooting upward. The heel of his hand caught Gregory beneath his blood-slicked chin jerking his head painfully backward and eliciting a grunt of pain from the other. Damien managed to use the momentum to push Gregory over, rolling on top of him again. Immediately, Gregory struggled wildly against him, raising his arms to shove Damien away.

Damien fought, but his strength was beginning to ebb and he caught Gregory's wrists with his hands, wrestling with the blonde rather than actively fighting him, feeling the muscles of Gregory's forearms tight beneath his fingers. He used his entire frame to hold Gregory down, putting all his weight into forcing the others wrists to the floor and pinning them there, knowing if he let the other boy up, he was going to come out of the fight badly.

Gregory strained against him and Damien almost panicked; the blonde seemed able to keep up the frenetic pace of the fight still while Damien was fast running out of endurance. He leant more heavily onto Gregory, chests touching, red eyes meeting blue with a stare that sapped the will of most people. This time, it wasn't working too well. Gregory's eyes flashed resistance, his quickened breath against Damien's face.

Without meaning to, Damien dropped his head lower and his lips met Gregory's, tasting his salty, blood-slicked mouth, feeling the sudden sharp intake of air...

Gregory bit Damien's lower lip, sinking his teeth in without a hint of the playfulness that usually accompanied such a gesture; it was intended to hurt. Damien's eyes flew open wide as the skin broke, his own blood filling his mouth and dripping onto Gregory's. He pulled back a fraction but Gregory didn't let go and Damien pressed forward instead, putting more pressure on Gregory's already injured mouth and using the momentary relaxation of the bite to force his lips apart.

Damien kept his fingers gripped tightly around Gregory's wrists, knowing that he was leaving reddened indentations and not much caring. If Gregory had his fists free, then he might start hitting again and Damien was too uncertain what the hell was going on to allow it.

He could taste their blood mingled in his mouth, the lingering taste of nicotine from Gregory's recently acquired habit. His tongue probed further, brushing against Gregory's teeth to caress the roof of his mouth. And then Gregory's own tongue slid along Damien's and suddenly, the blonde was returning the kiss as fiercely as Damien, his body straining up to the Antichrist's in a way that had nothing to do with throwing him off. There was as much anger in the kiss as there had been in the punches, more so since neither could explain their own actions.

The reciprocation took Damien by surprise and Gregory twisted his wrists, freeing one from Damien's grip, although the other remained trapped. He immediately brought his free hand to Damien's head and grabbed a fistful of his black hair, dragging it sharply so Damien was forced to draw his head back. Gregory didn't break the kiss however, his bloodied mouth pressing against Damien's as he leant upward to compensate.

This isn't really happening, thought Damien in confusion.

Gregory shifted his weight and Damien realised the blonde was trying to push him onto his back. He put his hand to Gregory's shoulder and shoved him back, their lips breaking contact, Gregory pulling briefly and painfully on the roots of Damien's hair before letting go. Whether or not it was really happening, there was no way Damien was letting Gregory get the upper hand here.

As soon as Gregory's back hit the floor, Damien was on him again, his lips trailing over the other boys. He released Gregory's wrist but kept the hand on his shoulder to persuade him to stay in place.

Gentle persuasion didn't work. Gregory put both hands to Damien's chest and shoved him again, knocking him sideways. Gregory rolled with the movement, leaning over Damien and clashing their lips together before the other could respond. Damien growled slightly as Gregory's hands found his chest again, this time grabbing the buttons of his shirt and unfastening them without care, loosening or losing several in the process. As the last one came free, Gregory pulled the material to one side, exposing Damien's torso to the air. He finally pulled his lips from Damien's and Damien had just change to register those blue eyes looking back at him, clouded with lust and wrath and confusion, the same thought reflected there as had been in Damien's mind; this is not really happening.

Grabbing fistfuls of Gregory's shirt, he pushed back, forcing the blonde to kneel up as he managed to sit. The moment they were upright, he used the fabric to drag Gregory forward again, another messy, desperate, bloody kiss between them. Gregory's hands found his shoulders, shoving the shirt from his back and Damien dropped his arms so the item could fall off before using his whole weight to topple Gregory backwards again. The other was too strong, Damien couldn't allow him to gain any advantage over him again.

Damien went for Gregory's bruised lips again, stopped when Gregory grabbed his hair once more, forcing his head back. Anticipating another headbutt, Damien jerked his head higher as Gregory leaned his head forward, teeth latching onto the skin above Damien's collarbone and biting down, hard. Instinctively, Damien tried to twist away, only to find himself angling his head to expose more of his neck to Gregory's mouth.

Gregory obliged him, leaving bruises and warm, drying streaks of his own blood against Damien's skin, his mouth trailing down to alternately bite at the flesh or suckle it painfully. He ran his free hand over Damien's chest, catching a nipple between his index and middle finger and crushing it between them, Damien's wordless sound of protestation only seeming to make him increase the pressure.

His breathing coming in short, heavy bursts, Damien grabbed Gregory's shirt and tore at the already-abused material, pulling it open and taking advantage of Gregory's slightly raised body to pull it from his shoulders, dragging it off his arms so that Gregory had to release his grip on Damien's hair.

Damien used the moment to push Gregory back with both hands on his pecs, digging his nails in and raking them down, hearing Gregory's startled hiss as scratches appeared down his torso, welling up with blood. Damien shifted his head down to run his tongue along one of the wounds, leaving behind as much of his own blood as he took from Gregory. He gripped Gregory's sides with his hands as the blonde started arching up, not wanting to be put at a disadvantage again, his mouth finding Gregory's nipple and nipping it hard between his front teeth. Gregory made some sound between pain and pleasure, his hands reaching for Damien's shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh.

This isn't really happening Damien thought once again, his tongue playing with the nub of Gregory's nipple, hips grinding hard against Gregory's. He became aware that he was achingly, painfully hard and the move put him in contact with Gregory's own arousal. Realising it gave him a weird sense of dislocation from the situation, surely they shouldn't both be so horny when they were supposed to be fighting?

I'm not really doing this with Greg fucking Thorne and he isn't really letting me the rational part of his mind continued to insist as he raised his head, the blood still spilling from his nose landing in droplets across Gregory's chest. He leaned in to kiss the blonde fiercely, not caring about the pressure he was putting on the boys injured mouth, hands dropping to Gregory's zipper to yank it open, pulling urgently at his trousers and boxers.

And he doesn't really like it, Damien's rationality finished, although the situation had gone so far into irrationality that he wasn't sure what the hell was happening. And the voice was flying in the face of all evidence as Damien found he couldn't get the material over where Gregory lay on the floor and leaned back a little, only for Gregory to capitalise and shove Damien onto his back. Immediately, Gregory planted his hand on Damien's chest and rolled on top of him, kicking off the clothes that Damien had already started on and following suit on Damien's zipper, almost tearing the zip right off the fabric.

As Gregory dragged the clothes off, an oddly grim look of confused lust on his face, Damien realised he had allowed himself to be put at a disadvantage; Gregory was on top and that was not good, not good at all. He planted both hands against Gregory's chest and shoved him back, Gregory resisting and grabbing both of his wrists to stop him. Still fighting each other, causing damage, battling to prove a point. Hands bruising flesh without caution as they tried to pull each other closer while at the same time, trying to force the other into submission.

And in the moment the outcome was decided, as they stopped fighting and started fucking, Damien caught Gregory's gaze and realised that the fury and confusion and sheer lust he saw there was mirrored in his own crimson eyes.