Some days they had a nice, normal little relationship – Pip and Damien, but most days it was far from that. Could anyone have really had a normal relationship with the son of Satan, after all? Pip always supposed not, and so he didn't complain, because at the end of the day the fact remained that Damian did want him, and that in and of itself seemed a miracle. Except Damien didn't perform miracles, only catastrophes and such things, but Pip never believed that the two of them were one of those. Definitely a miracle. He never said that to Damien, knowing that he'd just laugh and call Pip and idiot; tell him not to be so fucking sentimental and all that.

It had started out with Damien just saying it was a fuck. Since his return to South Park, he'd took up his old place of hanging out with Pip again, if it could really be called that. He showed up at all hours of the night and let himself in through the window, demanding Pip wake up right then to talk to him or to do something or another. One night he'd come for a grilled cheese sandwich which sat abandoned on the plate after Pip brought it up to him. After a few weeks of those occurrences, Pip had finally mustered up the courage to ask him what it was he really wanted, which seemed permission enough for Damien to just take it.

Before he'd known what was happening, the shirt Pip had been sleeping in was up over his head and his wrists were pinned above him against the mattress. "Damien! Let go, let go!" The struggle was brief, because it took only a few minutes for Pip to realize that he didn't mind it at all, just like he didn't mind the feel of Damien's tongue running down the side of his neck, or the way his teeth found one of his all-too-sensitive nipples. In fact, it became clear very soon that not only did he not mind it, but he was enjoying it just as much as Damien was, and once the anti-Christ realized it he let him go and sat back on his legs, a wicked little smirk playing on his lips. "I knew it. I knew you wanted to fuck me."

Pip's face had turned scarlet, "No I don't!" There wasn't a lot of hiding to do in cotton pajamas, though, so soon the little Brit had folded his legs as tightly together as he possibly could, arms coming up around himself to cover up the best he could without his shirt. "You never asked!" He hated the way Damien was smiling. Somehow it was predatory and amused at the same time. "Don't lie, Pip. You know I can always tell when you're lying." With that he reached out and pushed the blonde's legs apart, pale hand easily finding his member with a hard squeeze that made Pip gasp. "So you want to just let this go to waste." Pip was practically writhing now, and when he spoke his voice was a bit more hoarse than before, "N-no...no." The smirk returned full force and a moment later he found himself completely nude on top of his bed, while Damien hovered over him fully clothed. "Didn't think so."

Damien's hands wandered freely over him, pinching here, scratching there, so that by the time he was finished toying with him Pip had red scratches all the way down his sides and torso. Some of them were almost bleeding, and yet somehow didn't hurt. No...not hurt. Felt good. Why did they feel good? It horrified him but it's not like he could stop it. He was lost in hating himself for enjoying Damien's coarse attentions when he felt the finger playing at his entrance, slick with something cold, finally push inside him. A moan caught in his throat, embarrassed, and heat rushed to his cheeks again as he began to try to pull away. No way Damien was letting him do that, and it seemed he pulled handcuffs from nowhere, slapping one side against Pip's wrist and the other to the bed post so soon both arms were cuffed above his head. "Damien, please!"

Begging only added fuel to the fire so soon Damien added a second finger, taking no pains to be gentle about it. "Aw, should've known little Pip was a virgin." That made it even better. He wasn't surprised, had known it when all this started really, but that wasn't the point. "Not for much longer." Pip swallowed hard, wanting to say no again but the word died on his lips, and soon Damien had pushed a third finger inside of him. Deeper, deeper, working them so fast that Pip thought he would go mad with it and soon he couldn't hold back the moans or the gasps. Then, just as suddenly as everything had started, they were gone and Damien was off the bed. He seemed to be doing nothing other than admiring the sights: Pip cuffed naked to the bed, legs spread, cheeks pink, and skin glowing red nearly everywhere Damien had laid his hands.

There was the distinct clink of metal and the shuffle of leather as he removed his boots and pants, but he remained standing there without them, fingers wrapping around his own member with ease. He needed no help with it, that was obvious, but he didn't seem keen on giving Pip anything more just yet, so he continued to stand and just observe. Finally his little blonde captive couldn't take it any longer and was tugging at the handcuffs, finding that he desperately wanted to reach for him. "What are you doing? Just..." Damien continued to stroke himself, "Just what, Pip?" Of course he couldn't bring himself to say it, so he just closed his eyes tight enough to see bursts of color behind them. "Just what? Just fuck you?" The shiver that he saw run over the other boy's body was 'yes' enough for him.

A second later he had Pip's slender legs up over his shoulders and his hands against the other's chest, all his weight leaning forward to hold him down. The little Brit struggled to breathe beneath the pressure but it seemed not to matter so much. Who needed to breathe? He only needed....Then he felt it, the tip of Damien's member against him, and with one hard, quick thrust it was fully inside him. There had been nothing gentle about it – no warning, no being easy, no anything. A cry parted his lips and he could've sworn Damien had ripped him apart, because all he'd felt was pain. Now Damien was moving again – long, deep thrusts that made Pip sink further and further into the mattress, each one harder than the last. Tears had welled up in his eyes after only a few seconds, and when they did he felt one of Damien's hands move to his throat, smooth fingers wrapping around it and flexing. He couldn't help but cough, and as he did he was keenly aware of what felt like all his muscles contracting, so that Damien's thrusts hurt all the more.

Just as he was positive nothing good could come of it he felt the tips of Damien's fingers against his cheek in what felt like little caresses, at least to his oxygen-deprived mind. No, that's definitely what they were; soft and completely unlike anything else going on at that moment. The hand left his throat and were replaced by Damien's lips, and while the he never eased up for a second, Pip was beginning to feel good now. At least he thought he was. Maybe he was imagining that just because Damien was kissing him, which was what he was doing, almost mindlessly, as if it had happened without him really deciding that it would.

Once he realized what he was doing, Damien pulled away looking more determined than ever to finish what he'd started. His hands found Pip's hips, the tips of his fingers digging into flesh hard enough to bruise. This time, though, Pip was moaning with the thrusts and it was not long after that the friction between them was just too much for him and he arched his back as he came over both their stomachs. His heart was pounding in his ears when it was over, but Damien kept thrusting until finally he gave an almost guttural cry and Pip felt himself filled with the other's warm seed. For just a second everything stood still as they caught their breath, but then the handcuffs were off and Damien was putting on his pants, seeming to ignore Pip, who simply laid on the bed looking confused.

"Where are you going?" Damien laughed and pushed back his dark hair, which had been plastered to his forehead from sweat, "What, did you think I was going to stay and cuddle?" With that, he went out the window from whence he'd came, leaving Pip to clean up the mess they'd made.