Rating: T for Damien's swearing and adult themes.
Pairing[s]: Damien + Pip.
Disclaimer[s]: South Park belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker.
Author's Thoughts 2: I don't know, not much was in this chapter, but I have something good for the next one. Or, I might be lying, and it'll be more boring. Who knows? You'll have to find out. About Damien eating chocolate ramen, I got that from a Tumblr blog for South Park headcanons, you should go check them out.
[Third Person View.]
Pip admires himself in the mirror while brushing his teeth, combing his fingertips through his hair, dragging his nails down his scalp. He grunts while spitting out the toothpaste foam, turning on the faucet to clean out the sink. He raises his head and lets out a small shriek when seeing Damien behind him in the mirror, grinning wide.
"Bloody hell!" he whines shakily, clutching his bare chest. He looks down to his hand, only now being fully conscious of the fact he was in his boxers. "And who do you think you are sneaking up on me when I'm in my undergarments?"
"I didn't think it would be such a big deal, you didn't have any signs on the door," Damien replies. "You slept well, by the way."
Pip doesn't reply, knowing very well that Damien would have watched him in his sleep. "Thank you for informing me," Pip says with a small scowl, walking past Damien on his way to the hallway. The Antichrist follows like a puppy, making his way up to Pip's side. "want anything to eat? Or, do you eat human food?"
"Oh, I do, sometimes," Damien responds thoughtfully, "though it's hardly mortal food."
"Okay, what can I fix you?" Pip asks while floating into the kitchen, Damien stopping in the doorway, looking confused, but the expression quickly settles into one of satisfaction.
"Do you have instant noodles?" Damien asks, standing next to the fridge, tilting his head. Pip looks back to him with a smile, briefly admiring the way his clothing seems to blend together so he stands tall as a completely straight, smooth figure. Wearing white socks, of course.
"You like those? My parents eat it, mostly, but it isn't bad when you're in a hurry."
"Yeah, yeah, do you have them?"
"I have a few left!" Pip exclaims happily, holding up the small, Styrofoam cups. Damien's expression doesn't change. "I assume you want me to change them somehow,"
Damien nods and walks so smoothly it's like he's floating, making his way over to Pip at the counter. He takes the container from him, fingers brushing together, leaving a warm feeling against the blonde's digits. "Uh-huh," Damien says lamely, "chocolate shavings."
Pip raises his eyebrow. "Chocolate shaving in instant noodles?"
"Did I stutter?" Damien asks, tilting his head and raises his eyebrows.
Pip opens his mouth and raises a finger, before closing it and muttering softly, "No, I guess you didn't." he takes a deep breath, puts a smile on his face and turns around, the ends of his hair smacking against Damien's lips and nose. "Alright, I'll get some chocolate shavings for you!"
Damien doesn't reply, only watches Pip as he stands on his tip-toes to reach the top shelf. He smiles a little, setting the cup down on the counter, watching the way Pip's muscles stretch, listening to the little grunting noises he makes. He's so tolerant, any human would probably insult Damien for his weird tastes, but Pip barely said a word.
"You're so sweet, Pip," Damien muses quietly with a smile. Pip's body freezes, his head turning to face him in confusion.
"Ah, pardon me?" Pip says breathlessly.
"You are so sweet, it makes me want to take your head off and use your spine as a straw for your blood," Damien says while waving his hands up and down with a completely straight face. Pip's face goes pale as he coughs loudly and turns back towards the shelves.
"A-alright then, Damien. Can you put water on for the noodles?"
Damien frowns some, suppressing a growl in his throat. He couldn't get a reaction out of this kid that wasn't completely positive. What did it take to make him crack?
The Antichrist sighs and extends a slender finger towards the kettle on the stove, sending a stream of fire towards it, making the water inside immediately boil, steam making the kettle scream. Pip's head whips around in surprise and lifts the top of the kettle to silence the noise.
"Well, I wasn't quite ready," Pip says softly, putting a finger on his chin. "but better soon than later. Do I put the chocolate in now or after?" he says while turning his head to face Damien, big, innocent, blue eyes locking onto Damien's thin, red ones.
He clears this throat after finding it to be tighter than he remembered. "N-Now." Damien pauses, "Um, mortal." he adds quickly.
Pip chuckles, barely loud enough for Damien to hear, as he pours the boiling water into the cup and over the chocolate shavings. Damien has already forgotten about the prospect of one of his favorite foods, or the fact Pip made it for him, only the fact he was really, really pissed off at the little British boy.
Why? He doesn't know.
"Why am I so mad at you?" he asks, pupils growing in curiosity as his eyes dart over Pip's features.
"Well, I don't know, Damien, have I done something wrong?" Pip asks with a slight edge to his voice. Damien almost expected him to start bumping his knuckles together like that other blonde human boy, 'Butters'.
"For starters, you exist," Damien says simply, "but in the past 5 minutes, I don't think so. I just...want to grab you. Really hard."
"I-If you want to, you can, I won't fight back," Pip says quickly, as if it's routine, as he pulls his arms closer together to make them easier to grab. Damien furrows his brow even more.
"Okay, no! That's the kind of shit that'll piss someone off! Haven't you ever stood up for yourself? Go on, insult me, or something!"
Pip stays quiet, eyes slightly narrowed in focus, roaming Damien's face. A part of him feels violated, he didn't normally let mortals look at him this long without being harmed in some way or other.
"I don't know, I think this is a set up. I'll insult you, and you'll hurt me because I did so, right?" Pip says in a casual tone. Damien smiles, noticing the guarded look in his eyes and the stiffness of his voice. The situation had made him upset. Good.
"You've gotten smarter since I knew you."
"Well, it has been a while." Pip says with a smile as the stove timer went off. "Food is done!"
"Great, now I don't have to make small talk,"
"Oh, Damien, you should never feel obliged to have a conversation with me," Pip says with a smile, holding out the Styrofoam cup for Damien to take. Damien smiled back, wrapping his hand around Pip's smaller one, and the cup, leaning in to be close to Pip's face.
"Well, us demons, we're like vampires. We need to ask permission before we come inside. We're polite, so we make small talk, but that doesn't mean we have to make talk about nice things." he says, very quietly, blowing his breath right into Pip's mouth. Pip's pupils get smaller in fear, but Damien quickly pulls his head away, taking the cup along with him. "Aren't you going to eat anything?"
"...I...don't have much of an appetite, thank you," Pip mumbles as Damien takes a seat at the kitchen table, Pip slowly following and sitting across from him. "Did I make it right?"
"Your chocolate isn't half as good as the stuff in Hell," Damien remarks, though he knows it's much sweeter than the type he has at home. "but it's alright."
"Oh, good! I'm glad I made it correctly," Pip smiles, "should I remember how in case you come over again?"
"In case?" Damien repeats. "You can expect me here a lot."
Pip's smile grows more as he bounces once in his seat.
"It's just because it's easy to manipulate you into doing what I want," Damien says quickly to try and break Pip's spirit, "not because I like you."
"I'm quite aware you hate me, and I think it's safe to say I hate you also, but it'll be nice to have company," Pip says without breaking his smile. Damien cracks his own smile.
"So, the hatred is mutual,"
"Oh, very mutual."
=/=
Damien ate, slowly, carefully, struggling not to smile. Pip made it taste better than any slaves of his could, even though there wasn't a huge difference. It just felt better to eat, probably because a human made it, without his actual request.
"Well, I'm going to wander around your house," Damien announces, standing up from his seat. Pip looks up from his book, blowing a strand of hair away from his surprised face.
"Avoid my parents' room, okay?"
"Why?"
"Because it's their room, and their privacy."
"Okay, sure," Damien dismisses lamely, turning away from the table and gliding down the hallway, quickly disappearing down the hall.
He drags his hand along the wall, his fingerprints making burn marks in the hall, that Pip would have to frantically paint over soon. He smiles while pressing them harder to make the burns deeper, stopping at a closed, white door.
Damien shrugs, the upside-down cross on his chest jiggling some with the movement as he reaches for the doorway. His hand feels slightly stiff, wrapped around the gold-painted door-handle, but he shakes it off and opens the door.
As soon as his brain processes what he sees in the room, he's frozen to the spot. 3 knitted Bible verses on the walls, 4 crosses, white sheets and a Jesus lamp. What the fuck? Was this the Virgin Mary's bedroom?
Without thinking, he takes a step forward, before immediately dropping to the ground and letting out a cry of pain. What the fuck? Was this room honestly blessed? Who blesses their bedroom?!
Knowing he's immobilized and about to burst into flames, he takes a deep breath and calls out in a scratchy voice,
"PIP!"
He hears faint scrambling down the hall until Pip slides against the doorway, a shocked expression crossing his face. "I told you not to go in here!"
Damien only groans, holding his head, curled up on the ground.
"I-Is it safe to touch you?"
Damien can't breathe. Pip panics briefly, grabbing Damien's shirt and starting to drag him through the doorway and back into the hall. The noirette finally takes a big, deep breath, hands shaking as he comes to his feet, blood dripping from his fingernails and his eyes.
"Are you alright?" Pip asks quickly, trying not to look Damien in the eye. He frowns deeply, wiping some blood off his hands.
"Don't touch me."
"I didn't try to..."
"Don't even talk to me."
Pip stays silent, just standing at Damien's side as they both stare into his parent's room, which has two footprints burned in red in the wood. Maybe blessing your room was like leaving flour on the ground for a ghost; you'd know if a demon walked into your room.
"Who the fuck...blesses...their...bedroom?" Damien seethes, looking ready to burn the house down, fingertips swaying dangerously.
"My parents do," Pip replies quietly, "ever since they knew Satan liked to make visits to this town, they blessed their room, since the rest of the house was 'un-blessable'."
"Why were they 'un-blessable'?"
"I don't know, the priest just couldn't do it correctly in those rooms, so we gave up," Pip shrugs, starting to calm down. "Are you sure you're okay? You sounded pretty hurt..."
Damien scoffs, "I'm fine, dipshit. It was just shock," he mumbles. "but from this point on, this never happened. Understand, Frenchie?"
Pip doesn't even address the cultural mishap. "Okay, I can do that, but what do we do about the footprints in the ground? They'll know a demon was in their room."
"That's simple," Damien says with a smile. "I leave, and you get punished for allowing a demon on the premises, without them knowing I was even here. Have fun dealing with your parents!" Damien sings, snapping his fingers and vanishing with a small puff of fire. Pip coughs and waves the smoke out of his face until it fades away.
"Oh, dear." he mutters upon hearing the front door open.