Craig had to be grateful the radio still worked, but considering the lack of stations available in their small town, it wasn't much. He was on his way to Stan's, driving the car he had inherited from his dad. It wasn't meant to be a grand gesture but as a way for Craig to learn responsibility. His father had expected him to invest time and money into maintaining his car. Instead, Craig had learned two packs of PBR and a pack of Camels, and Kenny could keep his piece of shit car running.

He sighed when the car made its usual grinding noise as he tapped the brake. He turned down Stan's street and the textbooks resting on the passenger seat slid off, falling onto the floor of the car covered with weeks old fast food and empty beer cans. He was on his way to study AP Chemistry and discuss other things.

Last night, during an intense Destiny game with Token and Clyde, Stan showed up outside his window. He had lamented his predicament and told him about Kyle and Bebe's suggestion. He could see how hopeful Stan was but Craig had his concerns, mainly Damien. He barely knew the guy and there was also the small fact that he was the son of the devil. He kept his mouth shut though, and agreed to help.

He turned the engine off and gathered the books from the floor. He glanced down at his phone and saw a text from Stan.

Just come upstairs when ur here.

He opened the front door of the Marsh residence, poking himself halfway through as he looked around the empty living room.

"Hello?" he called.

"Up here," Stan yelled back from his room. He closed the door and made his way up the stairs. He was at the top step when another door flew open and Randy came stumbling out, grumbling to himself. Craig suppressed a groan. He hated having to deal with Stan's dad. If he wasn't drunk, he was berating others for some reason.

The older man's eyes widen like saucers, staring intently back at Craig. Craig frowned further, not understanding what was wrong but deciding he didn't care as he tried to side step the man. He froze though when Randy's lips trembled before he let out a petrified scream.

"SHARON!" he screamed, his eyes never leaving Craig. "OH MY GOD SHARON!"

There was a sound of another person downstairs.

"Randy, I'm busy," she snapped from below. "Whatever it is, deal with it."

Randy continued to stare at Craig in horror and Craig continued to be utterly baffled by his reaction.

"He's gotten so much freakier. Oh god Sharon, our son, our Staaaaaaan," he cried out.

Craig's eyes narrowed. Did this man seriously mistake him for Stan? They had met many times before. He opened his mouth to tell Randy off when a door nearby flew open.

"What the hell is going on?" Stan asked, looking at the two. Randy blinked, looking between Stan standing in his door frame to the other boy in front of him. His eyes squinted as if he was trying to see through one of their disguises.

Stan stalked over, standing a foot shorter next to Craig. He leaned forward, searching his father's face before tugging on Craig's sleeve. "Lets go," he said firmly, pulling Craig into his room.

"What's wrong with him?" Craig asked as Stan slammed the door shut.

"What's not wrong with him," Stan muttered bitterly, taking the books from Craig and setting them on his desk. "He went out with his PC buddies last night and he's still drunk. He woke me up at 3 am begging to see magic tricks."

"Let's study tomorrow," Craig stated.

"What?" Stan frowned.

"You're stressed. You can't study when you're stressed. Let's take today to have some fun and relax and we can worry about this tomorrow," he said tapping the textbook. Stan looked down at it, mulling Craig's words over in his head. His heavy eyelids and Craig's cucumber body wash made his answer clear.

"Sounds good," he smiled, sinking down onto his bed and Craig followed.

"Anything else bothering you?" he asked, running a hand up and down Stan's back. Being with Stan, he had learned it wasn't the accidental fires or ground splitting incidents that he had to take notice of. It was the ordinary signs of a frustrated and dejected man that were important. When it came to Stan, his everyday expressions were ignored by most, but Craig knew those were vital.

"Nothing more than usual," he answered with a sad smile.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked. "Play some video games? Go to Stark's Pond? Maybe see a movie?"

"Can we just stay here for a bit?" he sheepishly said.

He kissed Stan gently, intending for the gesture to be a simple way to answer his wish. Of course they could stay in and perhaps read some comics. Stan could practice guitar while he grimaced, or maybe there was a new show on Netflix they could binge. However, when fingers vice-gripped his hair and a tongue shoved it's way easily inside his mouth, Craig knew exactly what was in store for their day.

He leaned back onto the Broncos covers, taking Stan with him. They continued to kiss, hands sliding along and fingers twirling in locks of black. Stan's lips were chapped and his breath smelled stale, and the stubble on Craig's face would surely turn into a lecture from Stan afterwards. Now though, they ignored it all and let pleasure take over.

Craig loved the how Stan's body was like his own personal temperature control unit. Others complained about his unnatural ability to change the degrees drastically, but it never bothered Craig. When he was freezing, Stan warmed him up and when he was hot, Stan cooled him down. It was freak of nature situation designed perfectly for them.

The bed shook and Stan let out an annoyed groan as Craig latched onto his neck. The bed continued to vibrate and slowly lifted off the ground. They didn't pull away or take any notice to it. Craig remembered the first time this had happened. Stan had buried his face into the crock of Craig's neck, embarrassed. He explained how during certain moments alone were when these incident occurred. Craig just scowled because a bed floating while he felt up his boyfriend was something out of a cheesy chick-flick his sister would watch.

They didn't mind it anymore. It was easily ignored and didn't take away from their enjoyment. Only once did Craig accidently fall off the floating bed and smack his head hard on the nearby desk. The situation was salvaged by hours of Red Racer and some questionable homemade soup by Stan.

He slid a hand up Stan's shirt and pushing the fabric above his abdomen. He was about to move his hands somewhere south, when his ringtone caused him to halt.

I can be your hero baby. I can kiss away the pain.

Stan sighed, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing his phone.

"Who is it?" Craig asked, wrinkling his nose as the song continued to play.

"What's up?" Stan answered his phone and ignored Craig. He huffed, rolling off his boyfriend and listening to the two chat. It didn't take long to figure out who was on the other line.

"Really? Shit Ken," Stan said, smiling happily. "This really means a lot. I hope it wasn't much trouble, man."

"No sweat dude. Well placed threats always work. You should try it on Craig," he teased.

"Tell McCormick to fuck off," Craig retorted, picking dirt beneath his fingernail. Stan rolled his eyes.

"What time should we meet you guys?" he asked.

"He'll probably finishing up his duties now," Kenny responded. "Come by the junkyard near my house."

"Sounds good. Thanks again."

Hanging up the phone and tossing it off to the side, he turned to Craig who was still distracting himself with the bit of dirt under his nails.

"Jesus Craig," Stan said with disgust. "I'm the demon here and I can keep my nails in check."

"Be careful what you say Marsh or I won't stick them in your butt, " Craig warned. "So what's the plan?"

"We gotta head over to Kenny's," he said getting up from the bag and grabbing a few items from his closet.

The two made their way downstairs, barely avoiding a startling by Randy, and got into Craig's car.

"Does it have to be McCormick's place?" Craig asked, as he started up the engine and left Stan's driveway. "Why not the school field? I bet there's more room for you to... you know." He waved his arms in the air like a bird.

"I don't know," Stan frowned at his boyfriend. "He probably has his reasons. Maybe he's not allowed there."

"The high school isn't a holy place," Craig pointed out.

"Tell that to Kyle," he mumbled back. "It's hot in here. Turn on the AC."

"Can't," he said, making a turn down Kenny's street. "It's broken. I'll see if McCormick can fix it while you and the creep are flying."

Stan threw him a look and reached down for the window crank. "You really need to update your car, Craigory!"

They came to stop right outside the dingy green home. The only light on was from Karen's bedroom window, but they could easily make out the angry voices of Carol and Stuart, as is tradition. Slamming the doors closed, they headed to the back area where Kenny normally bummed around.

"Hey," he greeted the pair, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Without exchanging pleasantries, Craig walked over and Kenny handed him a smoke.

"Is dick cheese here?" Craig asked, lighting up the cigarette and inhaling it.

"Yeah, he's over there by the stray dogs," he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "He probably thinks one of them is his mom."

Stan looked over and effortlessly spotted the eerie and reddish silhouette of another man. He shivered, despite his own body temperature being at a warmer state. He hoped he never gave off the same unwelcoming and sinister vibe.

"Get him over here," Craig said.

Kenny tossed his cigarette to the ground, smashing the last bit left beneath the soles of shoes, and closed his eyes.

"Really, McCormick?" Craig said, annoyed.

"Excite ille homo," Kenny began to chant and the ground started to shake violently. Stan grappled onto Craig to prevent from falling over. "facit qui dura humidum." He finished with a shout and threw out some wicked jazz hands.

They had seen this before; the earth forming a large red abyss, as the face of an un-amused and annoyed man began to rise from below.

"You could have just called me asshole," Damien stated as the hole closed itself off. "You're causing a rift when you constantly summon me. Not that I care, but you'd think as someone who loves to dress in tights and "save" people, you'd be more careful."

"Yeah yeah, you two can bitch later," Craig interrupted before Kenny had a chance to speak. "What's going on? Are you gonna help him or what?"

Damien glared at Craig and then looked over to Stan. He slowly tongued over his fangs, enjoying the discomfort and uncertainty he was setting.

"What exactly do you need?" he inquired, folding his arms against his chest.

Stan sighed. "I just want to control this better. No more random fires or causing other people pain."

"My father made a big mistake with you," Damien said lowly. " A demon who doesn't want to cause pain."

"I didn't ask for this!" he snarled back. "Are you just gonna stand there and say shit or will you help me?"

Damien's red eyes became slits as he considered turning Stan into a bug. "I really don't see what I'd be getting out of it," he drawled and smirked at the helpless look on the other's face.

"Damien, I swear by my holy PSP, if you don't help out Stan, no more apple pie turnover," Kenny threatened.

Damien frowned, unsure if the blonde was referring to one of the delicious pies Kenny once made him, or one of their many weird sex positions. Either way, he didn't want to find out.

"Fine," he conceded. "We start tomorrow."

A/N:

Excite ille homo facit qui dura humidum. - call upon the man who makes me hard and moist. It's tough finding a direct translate. Latin isn't easy.

Randy mistaking Craig as Stan was just a small nod to the many times I've come across a posting or a story where they're described as looking very, very similar.

No, Craig's real name isn't Craigory in this. Stan's just wishes his boyfriend had a longer first name that he yell when Craig is being frustrating. I've been there.

Little reference to The Omen for ya.