Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4643361.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      South_Park
  Relationship:
      Phillip_"Pip"_Pirrup/Damien_Thorn, Kenny_McCormick/Butters_Stotch
  Character:
      Phillip_"Pip"_Pirrup, Damien_Thorn, Kenny_McCormick, Butters_Stotch, Eric
      Cartman
  Additional Tags:
      Romance, Alternate_Universe_-_Supernatural_Elements, Mystery, Anal_Sex,
      Anal_Fingering
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-24 Chapters: 9/9 Words: 28183
****** Fall of Thistelys ******
by AestheticAcoustic
Summary
     Pip could not say exactly why the dreams had started, nor when their
     sequence would end. All he knew was that one night when he was
     fifteen, after going to bed, he awoke in another place, a white
     palace, with a man lying next to him. Every night since he's been
     able to visit the same place and the same man. Hopefully, it would
     never end. But, a mysterious new man in South Park reminds him an
     awful lot of dream guy. Perhaps the waking world isn't really too
     bad. DIP.
     Underage smut in flashback sequence.
***** Prologue *****
Chapter Notes
     In the original draft I'd actually written Pip's accent (in other
     words, I spelled words the way he'd pronounce them). I've tried to
     edit all that out so his speech reads normally, but if I've missed a
     few words I apologize.
Phillip Pirrup could not say exactly why the dreams had started, nor when their
sequence would end. All he knew for sure was that one night when he was
fifteen, after going to bed, he awoke in another place, a white palace, with a
man lying next to him. In the two or so years since then he would dream of the
same place, with the same people, but the events were always different. It was
as though he could live a different life within this dream. Or, really, as
though he was viewing someone else’s life in it.
In the dream, he awoke in a rather hard bed, with silk sheets it seemed, in an
impossibly large room covered in white marble. Sometimes there was a man lying
next to him, sometimes the man was already up. Even though he always saw him,
Pip could never recall exactly what he looked like when he woke up from this
dream. He was handsome though, and tall, and had jet black hair. They were
married, he somehow knew, as though he’d gained this other person’s previous
knowledge or memories when he awoke as them. Not all of it, just enough to
piece together what was happening.
He couldn’t control the dreams; he was merely watching this other life unfold.
The other life was wonderful. He lived in this palace with the prince, whose
name also escaped him but always seemed to be right on the tip of his tongue.
He was unsure of where this place was located, but he knew it was far away in
both location and time. There was no electricity or running water or cars or
televisions. Arts seemed to be a major part of the culture. If he had to guess,
it almost seemed like ancient Rome, but he couldn’t be sure.
He and his prince (or perhaps king? The man seemed to rule with no one else
above him) were very close. The man was harsh toward others, but always
showered him with affections and kind words. More than half the time Philip
would wake up sweaty after his dream took a more physical turn.
He never told anyone about these dreams (as if anyone would listen anyway) and
he did his best not to dwell on them when he was at school or work. He always
took time to write them down in great detail in his dreams diary though.
Perhaps one day he would take it to a psychologist and ask about the meaning
behind this other life. Was it really someone else’s from a time long past, or
was it his imagination running wild and creating a new life for him?
He honestly wasn’t sure.
***** Dreamer *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Phillip was growing rather irritated at the amount of cold showers he was
having to take that week. The last four mornings in a row, in fact, he’d awoken
to discover that his dream had once again left him with the need for an icy
recovery.
He was getting used to it, honestly.
After his shower he sat down at his desk and opened his diary, which he never
bothered to hide since he never had company. He carefully wrote out to events
of his most recent adventures in Oz, as he liked to call it for simplicity’s
sake.
This time he and his husband, whom he simply referred to as “Prince” for
similar reasons, had spent much of the day in the garden, which was full of
plants and birds Pip had never seen in his life, not even in books or on the
telly. He loved the garden. It was spacious and beautiful and Prince would
always bring him there for some alone time, since much of the rest of the
palace was often busy. He wished Prince would make love to him there, but it
never happened. That sort of thing only ever happened in their bedroom, behind
a closed and locked door.
Something about that fact seemed off, but he was never sure why.
Pip closed the diary once he was finished with his little report and quickly
threw on his work uniform. Though he’d wanted desperately to finish school, he
was not able to. The rent on his apartment and the cost of schooling had become
too much and he was forced to drop out in order to work more hours at the
diner.
It saddened him, but such was life. At least he didn’t have to deal with the
bullies so much anymore. They were only a problem when they came into the
diner, which wasn’t often since it wasn’t exactly the cool place to hang out.
He grabbed some money to make change and headed out the door.
“Good morning, Phillip.” The manager greeted.
“G’mornin’, Wayne.” The Brit replied with a smile. Wayne was his favorite of
the two managers, the other being his sister, Whitney. Both were blond with
blue eyes. Wayne was two years younger, 28, and a little pudgy, but it was hard
to tell because of his height. Whitney was not as nice as Wayne, though she
wasn’t really all that mean either.
Wayne grinned, “I like the way you say my name.”
“I know. You say that every day.”
“Because it’s true.”
Pip flashed him a big smile and began doing his beginning shift duties. The
diner would open in an hour and by then everything needed to be set up and all
the tables cleaned. It was often only him and Wayne on the morning shift, which
was fine because then it was decently quiet before the day started.
“Phillip, you know I hate to ask…” Called Wayne from the kitchen, “But can you
work the late shift tonight too? Clarisa is going in for that knee surgery and
will be gone awhile. I’ll find other people to cover next time but for tonight
can you?”
“Of course. I’ll cover the rest of the week if you need me to.” Phillip
responded while wiping off a table. He didn’t mind working late; he got paid
for more hours anyway.
“Thank you so much! I don’t want to kill you, so how about a three hour break
from three to six?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
It was well past eleven when Pip finally stumbled into his apartment. His feet
and back were sore from the abnormally long work day. He wandered into the
bathroom and stripped naked, looking forward to a hot shower before bed. After
turning on the stream of water he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
He frowned, tilting his neck slightly. Just below his left collarbone was a
dark bruise. Cartman had left it with his fist after their last encounter
outside the market. He lightly brushed his fingers across it and hissed at the
slight sting.
He sighed and stepped into the shower. He hurried through his routine, looking
forward to getting into bed and getting some rest.
And, of course, continuing the dream.

My eyes flutter open and I’m met with a warm smile. A handsome man lying next
to me reaches out and runs a hand down my cheek, “Good morning, my love.” His
voice is deep and soothing and I can hear the love behind the words.
“Good morning, love.” I respond. My voice is softer and smooth.
His smile broadens and he leans forward, placing a gentle kiss to my lips. I
press back lovingly.
“May we have lunch in the garden today?” I ask when we part, though I already
know the answer.
“Of course, my love. I shall instruct Fabius to have it ready for us.”
I smile and climb out of bed. I hear him do the same.
The chilly air feels nice on my naked skin. My back is warmed when his naked
form presses against me. He presses wet kisses against my exposed neck and
whispers words of love in languages I cannot name. I wonder if he knows these
languages, or if he only knows these words in them.
He wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“I love you so much, my dearest Phoebus.” He whispers against my ear.
I smile and turn toward him, “I love you as well, Damien.”
Our moment ends all too soon when a quick rapping at the door sounds throughout
the white marble room.
We part. I quickly put on a stola while my husband neglects any clothing and
instead snaps at the person beyond the door, “What do you need?”
“Damien.” I urge gently.
He sighs through his nose, “Enter.”
Apollo hesitantly peeks inside before stepping in, “Pardon the intrusion, sir,
but perhaps I could speak to you in private?”
Apollo was a muscular man with short blond hair and green eyes. He was slightly
shorter than Damien, and a little mysterious at times, but it was difficult not
to enjoy his light-hearted company.
“This is my chamber, is it not? This is private. Anything you have to say to me
can be spoken of in front of Phaedra.”
“Yes sir… It seems Horatius was found dead in his chamber this morning. We
suspect Justinian, but we cannot be sure.”
Damien sighs and puts his toga on. “Summon the council,” He instructs, “I shall
see to Horatuis’ chamber where we are to meet first.”
Apollo nods, “Yes sir.” He quickly takes his leave.
Damien turns to me, obviously saddened, “I apologize, my love. It seems we will
not be having lunch in the garden today.”
I smile, “It’s alright. Perhaps tomorrow.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me deeply. Four years of love and devotion
are behind the kiss, and I find myself nearly overwhelmed by emotion.
For someone who can be so cruel to others, he has only ever been completely
loving toward me.
We part and he gives me one last kiss on my head. “Until we meet again, amor
meus.” He whispers.
“Te amo.” I reply.
His grip slips from me as he takes his leave.
I am left alone. I go to the mirror to begin putting my jewelry into place
before I go to the garden.

The sun is setting over the horizon. I decide it is time to go inside and leave
the garden.
Upon entering our chamber I find my love already there. He is sitting at his
desk and seems upset.
“My love?” I speak tentatively, coming up behind him and placing my hands on
his muscular shoulders.
He turns his head and offers a smile, but I can see how worn and tired he is.
“Hello, amatus meus.” He speaks. His voice is hushed.
“Perhaps we should turn in early tonight? You are tired.”
He pauses, as though he wants to argue, but nods instead. I pull him to his
feet and he immediately pulls me into his arms.
“Listen, amor meus. Horatius is dead and Justinian is missing. We do not know
where he may be hiding or going, so until we learn something I want you to be
wary. There is no evidence that he may come back, but I cannot take the risk of
losing you…”
“I understand. I will be watchful, I promise.”
He smiles at me, “Good. I’m not sure what I would do if I lost you.”
“Te amo.”
“Te amo. To bed now.”
He gently leads me to our bed. We both strip and slip underneath the sheets. He
pulls me against him and places gentle kisses on my neck until I fall asleep.
Pip groaned as he pushed himself up and out of bed. He tried to remember the
names… But, nothing came to him.
Just like all the other nights.
He took a shower as usual and immediately after went to his diary, writing down
every detail of the dream.
All except the names, which never stayed with him.
Once he was finished he put it back on his desk and got dressed, heading for
another day of work.
Chapter End Notes
     I learned so much about Latin to write this and the tiny details I
     put in will go completely unnoticed. But, that's fine. I know they're
     there and they make me smile.
***** Wanderer *****
Anger and sadness were the only two emotions he could ever really feel anymore.
Sometimes there was a small tinge of joy at someone else’s pain, other times a
simple phrase or object brought back long-buried memories, and with it a
crushing sorrow. Anger came easily and often unprovoked.
But, for the most part, he was simply numb. There was always a hole in his
chest. He often feared it would never be filled. Only one person in the world
could fill it, and all the odds were against him ever finding this person.
Mostly because this person had already come and gone many years prior. His only
hope now was that this person would be reincarnated, and of they were that he
could find them before they died again.
Life was far too complicated.
A neon sign reading “W & W Diner” pierced through the darkness of the night.
Damien’s stomach made a noisy protest over his lack of food for the day. He’d
been driving for some time, just going wherever the roads took him. He’d seen a
sign earlier that read “South Park.” It couldn’t hurt to stop here for a little
while. He pulled into a space and stepped out of his black Mustang. The diner
was close to empty. He could see only a few patrons through the windows.
The bright lights instantly got on his nerves when he entered. He hated the
unnatural lights that covered the world these days. He took a seat at a booth
in the corner, not bothering to even look at anyone, and pulled a map out of
his pocket.
Highlighted lines and notes were scribbled all over the page. He’d been
everywhere in this damn country at least twice. The places were constantly
changing, however, so it was almost like being somewhere different.
Almost.
“Hello!” Some brat piped up next to the table. His accent irritated Damien. He
grunted, not even bothering to look up.
“What can I get you?”
“A steak or something. I don’t care.” He replied gruffly, studying the roads on
the map.
“’Ow would you like that cooked?”
“Rare.”
“And to drink?”
“Water.”
“Alrighty. It’ll be right out.” The kid chirped. Damien could hear the smile in
his voice and it grated his nerves. He hated seeing other people happy while he
was forced to wallow in misery.
The boy trotted off and Damien finally looked up at one of the TV’s on the
wall.
News.
He stared up at the television and watched the world go to Hell before his
eyes. People these days were fucking stupid. Drugs, guns, domestic abuse, equal
rights, statutory rape? None of that nonsense had been around during his early
life. It seemed ridiculous and unnecessary.
Gay marriage, however, was something he could get behind. That was the issue
that had destroyed his life in the first place.
He looked back down at his map. It was pretty old, probably close to ten or
more years. He needed a new one soon. Once this one crumbled he’d be shit out
of luck. A GPS or GSP or whatever was not an option. Technology was more than a
little frustrating for him despite how brilliant he was. It seemed like
whenever he learned the newest thing, an even newer thing popped up. How was he
supposed to keep up with human ingenuity like that??
Damien was a little surprised how fast his food showed up.
“Here you are! Enjoy.” The waiter said. Damien still didn’t bother looking at
him.
The boy didn’t leave though.
“I hate to bother you, but, you seem very familiar. Have we met?”
“No.” Damien snapped irritably.
“Alright, sorry.” He trotted off, much to Damien’s pleasure.
He ate in a hurry and left a twenty on the table before leaving.
The motel was run down and crummy, but Damien couldn’t really be bothered by
this. It had running water, and to someone as old as he was that was pretty
fucking impressive. He tossed bag containing some clothing on the bed and went
to shower.
Afterwards he didn’t bother to get dressed or even towel off. He grabbed a
piece of paper out of the bag before pushing it onto the floor and getting into
bed.
He unfolded the paper. On it was a sketch he’d done of a person, around
eighteen, with shoulder length hair and a lovely face. They were looking over
their shoulder toward him, their upper back and shoulders exposed.
His darling, Phoebus.
“Goodnight, amor meus.” He whispered, running a finger down a line for the
cheek. He gently set the paper down on the table next to the bed and turned off
the lamp, curling up under the blankets for another fitful sleep.
“Wow…” Pip breath. A nine dollar tip? That was a first.
“Did the odd guy leave?” Whitney asked.
“Yeah, he lef… Look what he left me.” Pip replied, holding up the twenty.
“Wow! He must’a thought you were quite an item.” Whitney joked with a grin.
Pip laughed, “Doubt it, he didn’t even look at me!”
“He seemed really grumpy for someone his age, didn’t he? What was he, like
twenty?”
“At least.”
“He’s a strange one… Cute, but strange.”
“Cute’s an under statement…” Pip mumbled.
They both giggled.
“Anyway, you’re free to go now. I can do closing.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
***** Destiny *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I moan as his kisses move further down my body. I twitch and nearly yelp when
he takes me into his mouth, sucking rather harshly. I bury my hands in his
hair, trying hard not to be too noisy.
I feel his fingers gently prod my entrance and I shudder as one slides in.
His mouth leaves me and the cold air makes me shiver. His lips press against
mine as he slips another finger inside me. I moan against his lips and he moans
in return. I run my hands up his strong arms while he prepares me with one hand
and plays with my nipple with the other.
I’m saddened when his fingers leave me, but I know what’s coming next and it
makes waves of excitement run down my body. He picks my hips up and pulls me
closer. His penis is resting between my buttocks and I can see in his eyes how
badly he wants me, but he controls himself.
He reaches for a bowl on the table next to our bed and dips his fingers in the
oil. He coats his member in it before wiping his hands with a rag.
He slides in slowly and gently and I cannot help the noises that fall from my
throat.
I love the feeling of having him inside me. I am full, complete, loved. I can
feel his devotion in every movement. He pushes inside as deep as he can because
he knows how much I love it and runs his hands across my entire body, touching
and kissing everything he can.
He begins to speak. I cannot understand the language but it makes my body feel
as though it’s on fire. I pant and writhe as his thrusts increase in speed and
power; all the while he continues half moaning in his native tongue.
I should ask him one day where he came from and what that language is, but it
always slips my mind.
We can make love for over an hour at times. I can tell that tonight won’t be
one of those nights. He’s too worn from a long day and I’m feeling much too
desperate.
“Ārdor meus, amor meus, vīta mea…” He groans.
“Te amo.” I whimper. It’s one of the very few phrases I’ve picked up and
understand.
He shudders at my words and reaches down to grip my penis, “Te amo.” He begins
stroking in time with his thrusts.
I orgasm far too quickly for my liking. He doesn’t last much longer. I can feel
the way it twitches as he pushes deep inside and moans my name.
My real name.
“Phoebus…” It’s a little too loud, but I’m sure no one heard.
“Damien.” I whisper in return. I know what my voice alone does to him in
moments like this.
His muscles go lax and he’s barely holding himself up above me.
“I love you so much.” I tell him, reaching up to stroke his handsome face.
A face that hasn’t changed at all in the four years we’ve known each other.
“You mean the world to me.” He tells me in return before gently pulling out and
lying down beside me. He pulls my body against his places kisses on my neck, “I
want you with me for all of eternity.”
“I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me.”
“Aevum, amor mei.”
I want to ask what he said, but he hushes me with a kiss, then tells me to
sleep. I curl up against him and do as he instructs.
Pip was quickly becoming irritated at the amount of time, water, and soap he
was using to wash his sheets so often. It was rare he woke up to a normal day.
More often than not he either had wood or messy sheets.
He was getting used to it, honestly.
Thankfully, it was Saturday, his late day, and this gave him plenty of time to
wash his sheets before going to work.
Damien left the motel early that morning and drove back to the diner he’d found
the previous day. He didn’t like crowded or expensive places, so grabbing a
bite at the diner before leaving town seemed like the best option.
He sat at the same corner booth as the night before and when a waitress asked
he ordered the same thing as well. She was bubbly, much like the waiter the
previous night, and it irritated him.
When she left he removed a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it.
He stared down at his lovely Phoebus sketched on the paper. He’d drawn it
himself from memory shortly after the incident. Or, rather, he’d done a similar
sketch. Every century or so he’d make a new sketch that was exactly like the
old one, but on a newer sheet of paper.
This one was getting close to falling apart. It was tearing at the seams were
he’d folded it and had turned a light brown color.
“Is that Phillip?”
Damien almost jumped at the sudden voice right behind him. He quickly turned to
look over his shoulder.
A boy with shaggy blond hair and brown eyes matching the fur on his orange
hoodie was leaning over the seat of the booth behind him, staring curiously at
the sketch.
“What?”
“You’re drawing, is it of Phillip Pirrup?”
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, never mind then. Sorry, it just looks a lot like him.” The blond shrugged
and went to turn back around in his seat, but Damien quickly grabbed his hoodie
and pulled him closer.
He held up the sketch, “This looks like someone you know?”
The boy didn’t seem fazed, “Dude, I just told you. It looks like Phillip
Pirrup. He used to go to school here.”
“Where is he now?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Around. He works at this diner, but I don’t know
where he is right this second, or where he lives so don’t even ask.”
“When will he be here?”
“Bro, I don’t know anything about his schedule. We’re not buddies so I don’t
care. Ask the manager if you’re so wound up about it.”
“You’re sure he looks like this?”
The boy sighed, obviously growing annoyed, “Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, they look
similar at least. It’s just a sketch and not a color photo so I can’t be one
hundred percent sure but I mean that’s who it looks like to me. Same haircut
and all that.”
“… Thank you.” Damien said a little absently and released the boy.
“Yeah, whatever.” He replied with an odd tone, as though he was sure Damien was
insane, before plopping back down in his seat.
Damien turned back around as well, lost in thought.
This wasn’t the first time he’d found someone who looked similar to Phoebus,
but it still made his heart race. It was unlikely that this boy would be the
reincarnation of his lost love, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out to make
sure.
When the waitress came back with his food he immediately asked her about it,
“Excuse me, woman?”
“Um, what?” She sounded offended.
Damien mentally hit himself. He’d gotten so worked up he forgot about watching
how he spoke. Living over two millennia could make keeping up with trend and
language changes really confusing.
“Ah, mē miseret. I apologize, miss. I was wondering if a Phillip Pirrup worked
here?” He put on his best face, the one that could win over any woman.
“Oh, well,” She giggled, “Um, yes, he does.”
“Bene. And, when can I expect him to be in?”
“Um, he doesn’t come in today until around four, I think, and he’s off
tomorrow, but Monday through Friday he works from opening til five or later. I
know because-”
“Tace.” Damien said with a smile. He got a lot of enjoyment out of the fact
that she had no idea what he’d said, “Thank you, miss. You’ve been a great
help.”
“Oh, you’re very welcome!” She giggled and hurried off toward the front
counter.
Damien quickly ate while he thought over his options.
It would be another five or so hours before the boy came in for work. He didn’t
want to sit in the booth for that long. A better idea would be to find a
library and read a book or something until four.
Damien returned to the little diner at 3:50pm and sat in the same booth. The
waitress from earlier bounced up almost immediately.
“Would you like to order, or would you rather wait until Pip get’s here?”
“Whom?”
“Oh, it’s Phillip’s nickname. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Yes, I’ll wait, thank you.”
She nodded and trotted off, her attitude naturally grating on Damien’s nerves.
He heard the bell above the door ding, but didn’t bother to turn around and see
who’d come in.
“Good afternoon, Phillip!” Someone called, immediately gaining Damien’s
attention.
He looked toward the counter, where he’d heard the voice. A tall blond man was
smiling at whoever had just entered.
“Hello, Wayne.” A chipper voice replied.
Oh, fuck.
Damien cringed at the familiar voice, recognizing it as belonging to the boy
he’d brushed off the previous night.
A blond boy walked past the counter, a smile on his face.
“I like the way you say my name.” Wayne joked.
“You literally say that every day.” Phillip said as he hung up his coat.
“’Cuz it’s true every day!”
Phillip smiled and laughed. He put on an apron and tied it around his back as
he and Wayne continued their light hearted conversation.
Damien was shocked at how much the boy resembled his Phoebus. He was a little
too far away for him to be one hundred percent sure of the similarity, but even
from the distance it was striking. The same golden blond hair that barely
brushed his shoulders, the same light skin tone, and even the voice was
similar, though Phoebus hadn’t had that accent.
Wayne motioned toward him and Phillip looked at him. Their eyes connected
before Damien quickly looked away. Mere seconds later, Phillip was standing at
his table.
“Well hello again!” He greeted, “Liked us enough to come back?”
“Uh, yes, I suppose.” Damien muttered, not looking at the boy. He was too
scared. He wasn’t sure he could handle it again if it wasn’t Phoebus.
“Well, that’s good then. Would you like what you had yesterday, or would you
like to try something else?”
“I’ll just take something small, I don’t care what, and a water.”
“Alright. Does a ham sandwich sound good?”
“Sounds great, thank you.” Damien finally forced himself to look up at Phillip.
What he saw completely fucked up everything around him. Time was not working
correctly, sounds were muffled, and he had no idea how many or even what kind
of emotions he was feeling.
He couldn’t move.
Smiling down at him was Phoebus. The same golden hair, the same light skin, the
same sky blue eyes, the same pink lips covering white teeth with a beautiful
smile, and even the same three freckles dotting a small, perfect nose.
Damien could do nothing but stare.
“Um, Wayne said you asked about me?”
“U-Uh…” Damien forced himself out of his haze. Gawking was no way for a
gentleman to act. “Yes, actually. I was hoping we could speak.”
“I’d be happy to. Lemme put your order in and I’ll be back.”
“Wonderful.”
Phillip flashed a smile and trotted off.
It didn’t irritate Damien in the least.
He watched him hang the order up on a rotating silver wheel before turning and
coming back. Pip took a seat across from him, but he wasn’t smiling like Damien
believed he should have been.
It bothered him immensely.
“If this is about the nine dollar tip you left me last night, I understand and
I’ll give it back.”
“What? No. Why would I care about that?” He didn’t give a damn about money or
its weird value system.
Pip shrugged, “I couldn’t think of another reason why you’d want to talk ta
me.”
Damien sighed, “Oh, carus meus, I can think of about a hundred reasons why
anyone would want to talk to you.”
Pip blushed, “Oh, well, that’s very sweet of you to say that. What language is
that, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“An old one.”
“How old?”
“Very. Why?”
“Oh, well it’s just that I’ve heard it before, but I didn’t know what language
it was.”
“Wait, you’ve heard it before? Where?” Damien’s brows drew together in
curiosity. Did this boy have memories of his previous life?
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Pip laughed, “I haven’t caught your
name…?”
“It’s Damien.” He was a little angry with himself for not giving his name
sooner. How rude.
“Really? That sounds so familiar… Are you sure we haven’t met before?”
“We have, actually, but it was a long time ago. Do you remember, perhaps?”
Pip thought for a moment, then shrugged, “Can’t say I do. It’s more like a
feeling of déjà-vu than anything.”
“Ah…” Damien frowned and drummed his fingers on the table, oddly unsure of what
to say next. Perhaps a courtship ritual was in order? What the hell did people
these days do for that? Having a meal together seemed to stay constant
throughout the centuries, but there was more to it than that.
Fuck, what did they even call it nowadays?
Fuck it. He’d just outright ask. Saying a few things in Latin when asking odd
things of people usually worked just fine.
“Ignōsce, carus meus, but perhaps you would like to spend the day with me
tomorrow?”
“Um, I guess so.” Pip said, looking oblivious to the implications, “I am off
tomorrow, but I can’t really afford-”
“Don’t worry about that.” Damien quickly interrupted, “I’ll pay for any
activities that require money.”
“Oh, thank you…” He seemed a little uneasy, “If you’ll excuse me, I must get
back to work.” He smiled sweetly and stood.
“That’s fine, dulcis meus. Shall we meet here tomorrow at noon?”
“That would be fine, yes.”
Damien left the diner some time later. He got into his vehicle and headed up
the street into town. He needed to figure out where he could take the boy or
what they could do together.
What the hell had he gotten himself into? It would have been so much easier to
just brainwash the brat like he did every time he used someone.
No. This was different. Phillip was the reincarnation of his dearest Phoebus.
He wanted Phillip to love him on his own as Phoebus had, not be forced to warp
and twist his mind for his own gain.
If he was going to do this, it needed to be done correctly.
But how?
He pulled to a stop at a red light, still thinking over his options. As he
waited he saw two people cross the crosswalk in front of him.
The boy in the orange hoodie from earlier had his arm draped over the shoulders
of another boy in blue.
He had an idea.
He watched where they went and when the light turned green he headed in their
direction. He pulled into a parking space several feet down from where they
were walking and when he got out of the car he was in front of them.
He blocked their path with crossed arms and an irritated expression.
They stopped. The boy in orange’s face remained blank, but the one in blue
seemed almost frightened.
“You.” Damien snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the taller one.
“You.” The boy replied, seemingly unfazed.
“You are going to explain to me the courting rituals of this generation.” He
didn’t care if his speech sounded weird to them or if he seemed crazy. As long
as he got what he wanted he could simply erase this memory from their minds
anyway.
The basic expression of the boy did not change, though his eyebrows rose
slightly, “…Courting rituals?”
“Yes. How did you win over this boy? What did you do that he found appealing?
You will explain this to me.”
“… Are you hitting on Phillip?”
“What?” Damien nearly gasped, “I would never strike him!”
“Okay… That’s not what that meant at all… How old are you?” His expression
changed just slightly to one of mild annoyance.
“Twenty.” Damien answered quickly. He’d been twenty for a very long time.
“Uh-huh… Butters, why don’t you meet me at Harbucks?” He said to the boy
underneath his arm.
“Uh, okay…” Butters gave him a worried look, but the taller boy just smiled.
They shared a quick kiss before Butter’s trotted off.
The boy gestured to a bench. Damien followed and they both took a seat.
“Dude, I can’t help you til you’re honest with me. I’m gonna guess around two
hundred or so? Am I close?”
Damien gave him a wary look, “You act as though you’re not shocked.”
He shrugged, “You may not believe me, but I die at least twice or more a week.
I always wake up in my bed the next day just fine, but no one ever remembers I
died.” He paused, looking down with a smile, “Except Butters. He’s the only one
to ever notice.” He looked back up at Damien, “I’m Kenny, by the way.”
Damien considered what had been said. He gave a slight huff, “I am Damien. I do
not know my age, though I believe I am closing in on my 3000th summer.”
“Wow dude.” Kenny seemed slightly surprised, “What the hell are you?”
“That’s none of your concern. Explain to me your courtship rituals.”
“It’s more complicated than just some silly rituals…”
“Well you have until noon tomorrow to teach me something. Phillip and I are to
spend the day together.”
Kenny sighed, obviously annoyed at this point, “You could come to Harbucks with
us if you want I guess and I can explain some things to you there.”
Damien nodded, “I accept your offer.”
“Great.” Kenny muttered, “Fuck up my date so I can help with yours. Awesome.”
The smell made Damien ill. It was too thick and strong, making it difficult to
breathe. “What is that?” He asked after Butters had parted from them again to
go up to the counter.
“It’s coffee. A drink that gives you energy, basically.” Kenny answered as they
sat down at a booth.
“It smells awful.”
“You could leave if you want.”
Damien glared, “You’re going to explain these ‘dates’ to me if I have to force
you. I can do so by physical means or by twisting your mind to my benefit,
either way will leave you with some permanent repercussions.”
“It was just a suggestion.” Kenny muttered, seemingly unfazed by the threat,
“You’re picking him up at noon tomorrow, right?”
“Why on earth would I pick him up? I do not think he would like that.”
Kenny stared blankly at him for a long moment before moving on, “You should ask
if he’s hungry first. If he is then you should take him to lunch at a nice café
or something. Not at the diner where he works though, that’s bad manners.”
Damien nodded. ‘Manners’ were something he understood well.
“After you dine or if he doesn’t want to then you should ask what he wants to
do. You could probably just ask him to show you around town and he would be
happy with that. He’s pretty easy to please. There are a couple of different
things to do here even though it’s a small town.”
Butters sat down beside him with a tray of three cups, placing one in front of
Kenny and sliding one to Damien. “It’s hot chocolate.” The blond said with an
innocent smile, “Don’t drink it yet because it’s hot.”
“Thank you.” Damien said, looking down at the brown cup. He looked back up at
Kenny, “Continue?”
“Right. When he gets hungry again you should take him to a restaurant for
dinner. One with a nice atmosphere, ya know? To set the mood and all that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kenny sighed, “That’s fine, it doesn’t really matter as long as you take him to
a nice place.” He turned to Butters, “You were closer to him than I was, what
kinda food does he like?”
“Oh, uh, I’m not really sure.” Butters said with a slight blush, “Probably
something European, as long as it’s not French. He hates French food so watch
out for that… Maybe Italian?”
“You should probably ask him. Anyway, after dinner you should try a movie. I
know it’s cliché but it works.”
“What is a movie?”
“Your turn.” Kenny said to Butters before blowing on and taking a sip of his
hot chocolate.
“Oh! Um, well.” He fidgeted slightly, “See, you’ll want to find a movie
theatre. There’s one in South Park. Pip will know where it is. And, you should
buy you both tickets to whatever he wants to see. Um, movies are like stories
about people, but they’re recorded with pictures, so you can watch them instead
of read them. The stories aren’t real; they’re like plays but on a screen
instead of a stage. I don’t know if that makes sense? You’ll get it when you
see it…”
“Like I said earlier, Pip’s easy to please. Just don’t try to get in his pants
and you’ll be fine. ‘Get in his pants’ mean sleep with him, by the way… Which
doesn’t literally mean ‘sleep’ it means ‘have sex with’ or ‘make love to’ or
whatever you call it.”
Damien gave a slow nod, taking in a lot of information.
This dating nonsense was very confusing.
“I thank you for your time and input.” He said as he stood, “I must bid you
farewell.” He grabbed his cup of steaming hot chocolate and easily downed it in
a few gulps.
Butters stared in amazement.
Kenny didn’t even blink, “Good bye and good luck.”
Chapter End Notes
     Wow was that dirty scene hot or what?? HAHAHA no it wasn't. I hate
     writing in first person.
***** Knight *****
Chapter Notes
     TW for Cartman dropping the F word. Not 'fuck' either. The other one.
See the end of the chapter for more notes

I know that our language is not his first, though he will not tell me what his
first was, or where he came from, nor will he admit to his age. He’s been 20
for many summers. It is strange, but I have learned to not question it. He will
tell me when he’s ready, and when he believes I’m ready, I know this.
I stare at myself in the mirror and I cannot see why he’s drawn to me. My hair
is the same blond as everyone else, my skin is average, I have ugly freckles on
my nose, which is too small, and my eyes are an odd shade of blue that simply
isn’t pretty.
But, I know he sees something he likes, even if I cannot, and I don’t question
it.
I don’t question a lot of things that I probably should. I trust him, so I see
no point in questioning his reasons. Though sometimes I wish he would answer my
more simple questions, like how many languages he speaks.
I’ve counted at least five.
The first one is his original dialect, I believe. It’s the one he reverts to
when he’s emotional and when he calls me affectionate names. “Te amo” means “I
love you” in this tongue, though I have no idea what the language itself is
called.
The other languages he uses only sometimes. I know they are of another tongue
because they sound different from each other and from the main language. He
also speaks to foreign nobility in these other languages at times.
My heart hurts when he isn’t honest with me about himself, but I don’t speak
up.
I love him, I am loyal to him, and I will not question him.
I turn slightly as I hear him coming down the hallway with someone. He is
obviously angry. His voice is loud and harsh and I feel bad for whoever is on
the receiving end of the tirade. As his voice gets angrier the words begin to
change and blend until he’s yelling in his native language. It’s as though he
becomes so caught up in the moment that he forgets any other language.
I begin to worry when I realize that he’s much angrier than I’ve ever heard him
before. The words are fast and harsh and though I don’t know what he’s saying I
can almost feel what the words mean just by how he’s saying them.
I step outside the door where he has Apollo backed against a wall. The man is
obviously terrified, likely for his life. Damien is not above harming someone
who has wronged him, and I have a feeling he wouldn’t be above murder either.
“Damien?” I call.
He stops his raving. He is breathing harshly and is tensed up, obviously still
furious. He takes two steps back and a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.
He glares at Apollo, “If I ever hear of you speaking such lies again, it will
be your head. Do you understand?”
Apollo nods and scurries away.
“What’s wrong, my love?” I ask meekly.
Damien turns to me, his eyes holding a fury that makes me cringe, “Nothing.
It’s taken care of. Do not concern yourself with my problems.”
“I apologize. It was not my place.” I whisper; hurt by his words. He has never
been so harsh toward me before.
His gaze softens and he pulls me against him, “No, I apologize. I should not
have snapped at you like that. I just don’t want you to worry about me. I love
you.”
“I love you too.” I reply with a smile, burying my face in his neck.
I feel completely safe and protected when he holds me.
“Oh, crud!” Pip shouted as he sprang from his bed. He’d slept through his alarm
and his sheets were messy, but he had no time to clean them before he needed to
leave.
He took a fast shower and blow dried his hair as he brushed his teeth. He
quickly made a few notes on a pad about what had happened in Oz before throwing
on the nicest clean clothes he could find and running out the door. He was only
on the third floor so he decided the stairs would be much faster than waiting
on the elevator.
Damien was sitting on the hood of his car when Pip arrived to the diner five
minutes late and out of breath.
“Sorry I’m late.” He apologized, “I woke up a little late.”
“I didn’t even notice.” Damien replied, then quickly realized that sounded
rude, “Because I haven’t checked the time.”
“Oh, well that’s good then… Where are we going?”
Damien stood, “Wherever you want to go. Are you hungry?”
Pip took a moment to look over his new friend. Damien was tall and muscular,
and it was obvious from his stance that he was confident. His clothing was
nice; a black button up shirt with good looking jeans and a dark chain around
his neck. His jet black hair was a little messy, but in an attractive way, and
his dark eyes were looking directly at Pip. “Oh! Yes, very.” Pip said quickly,
realizing he had been staring. He hadn’t had time to eat breakfast that
morning.
“Well I don’t know this town very well, so perhaps you could give me a grand
tour? Starting with lunch.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Pip replied with a smile. He stepped off the curb to
get into the car, and was surprised when Damien moved quicker and opened the
door for him. He blushed, “Thank you.”
“Of course, carus meus.”
Damien was slightly curious about the amount of elderly people currently in the
IHOP with them. Was this a main hang out for the older crowd or was it because
of the time of day? Were they only allowed to eat here? He wanted to ask, but
it would seem weird that he didn’t know such a thing, so he kept his mouth
shut.
“Are you hungry at all?” Phillip asked.
“A little, I suppose.” He replied. He was starving, but didn’t want to admit
that he hadn’t had breakfast that morning because he was too busy stressing
about what would be appropriate to wear or say and how he would be expected to
treat his ‘date’ and numerous other trivial things that simply seemed far too
important at the moment. “What’s good here?”
“Well, I don’t care much for the eggs myself, but their pancakes are wonderful
along with their hashbrowns.”
Damien nodded, pretending he knew what the hell half that was. He browsed the
menu until he saw something with ham and decided to order that.
“So, what brings you to South Park?” Pip asked after the waitress left with
their order.
“Just passing through. I saw your diner and decided to stop for the night.”
Damien said matter-of-factly, studying the odd-looking napkin dispenser.
“Oh, you travel a lot?”
“Yes. This is the first time I’ve stayed somewhere more than a night.”
“Really? What made you stay?” Pip asked, completely oblivious.
Damien looked at him, “You, obviously.”
Pip blushed, “Me? Why in the world would you stay for me?”
“Why not? Isn’t it obvious that I’m interested in you?”
“Oh, well…” Pip looked down, fidgeting, “See, the thing is, I’m not really
interested in that sort of relationship…”
Damien was stunned and a little offended, “What do you mean ‘that sort of
relationship’? You mean with a man?”
“No, no!” Pip quickly looked back up and shook his head, “I am looking for a
man, but I’m looking for something more… permanent, I guess? I know it sounds
stupid to you, but I’m sort of saving myself for the right person, you know?
I’m not interested in a one-night stand…”
“…And what makes you think this is anything less than permanent?”
Pip seemed surprised, “Well, you said you travel a lot…”
“And I don’t stay in a place for more than one night. If this was sex-based I
would have tried with you yesterday and left. Shouldn’t the fact that I wanted
to spend the day with you be a good sign?”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t really know… No one’s ever wanted to spend a day with me
and I’ve never been in a relationship or even been hit on, so I wouldn’t really
know if someone was using me or not, I guess. I just assumed you were because
you travel.”
Damien was hurt and irritated, but he let it slide, “I’ve already booked my
hotel for another night. I’m going to look for somewhere more permanent
tomorrow, but if I can’t find anything then I know the hotel will let me stay
for as long as I want for the right price.”
That was partially a lie. He rarely paid for anything and he sure as hell
wasn’t paying for a room.
“You can stay with me if you like.” Pip said, then immediately looked
mortified, “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to have to spend a lot of money just to
stay around here!” He added quickly, obviously embarrassed.
Damien smirked, “You’re going to let the man that just moments ago you thought
only wanted to sleep with you, actually stay with you?”
“I just thought it would be a nice gesture, since you’re taking me out and all…
And besides, you already told me you weren’t going to do that…”
“You’re very trusting, you know that?”
Pip shrugged, looking down again.
Damien reached out and grabbed one of his hands, “It’s okay though, because I’m
here to watch out for you now.”
Phillips heart hammered in his chest as Damien gripped his hand in a tight yet
gentle hold. He stared at their hands, a mix of excitement and worry twisting
his stomach in knots. He silently prayed that this man was telling him the
truth about not using him, because he already knew he was falling for him fast,
and he didn’t want to have to deal with the hurt if he left. “So, you are
staying then?”
“Of course, amatus meus. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” Damien said,
repeating the line that Phoebus had whispered to him so many years prior. It
hurt a little, though not near as much he’d expected.
His heart was already feeling immensely better by being with Phillip.
“Im going to puke.” Damien muttered under his breath, stopping just short of
the archway into the Roman exhibit. He suddenly remembered why he avoided
museums like they carried the plague.
Phillip stopped and looked back at him, “What’s wrong? You don’t like Roman
history?”
Damien didn’t reply. Looking into the exhibit at the familiar faces carved into
stone and the beautiful architecture that had once made his palace magnificent
made his chest hurt. He shook it off, stepping forward to continue in with Pip.
Familiar names stood out on cards of text below familiar busts. Some brought
back good memories, some bad, and others just made him plain angry. Overall the
exhibit wasn’t too bad though. He knew most everything in the exhibit and more.
It bothered him slightly when he noticed a few inaccurate ‘facts’ but he didn’t
say anything.
It wasn’t until they came across a small section marked “Thistelys” that he
became seriously ill.
Phillip leaned closer to the glass, where several pots and other artifacts
(which Damien always found completely uninteresting, probably because he’d seen
them in their heyday and even then they simply weren’t impressive) were
displayed. Underneath was a large plaque with text on it.
“Have you ever heard of Thistelys? It’s a newer discovery I guess.” Pip spoke.
“No.” Damien replied quickly, turning away.
“Oh. You want me to read it to you then?”
“If you want.” He didn’t want him to.
Phillip looked down at the text and began reading, doing what he could to make
sure his accent didn’t make it difficult to understand, “Thistelys was rumored
to exist before 500AD, but completely disappeared around 11BC. The only remains
are artifacts from other cities. The city itself cannot be found. It was
believed to be a major military city based on paintings and literature.
According to texts at the time it was never taken over by Rome, but vanished
overnight around 11BC.” He stood up straight, “Well, that’s interesting. Wonder
what happened.”
“Apollo fucked up is what happened.” Damien snapped without even thinking.
Pip looked at him, “What?”
“Uh, Apollo. He was the sun god. It was a bad joke, sorry.” Damien replied
quickly.
“Oh, alright.” Pip smiled and grabbed his hand, “Want to go look at the dinos
next?”
“I’d love to.” He said honestly. Dinosaurs were basically the only thing he
hadn’t been around to see first-hand, which immediately put them into a higher
interest category than anything else in history.
Plus, T-rexes were pretty fucking awesome.
He let Pip lead him out of the Roman exhibit and toward the dinosaurs. He
glanced down at their entwined hands, feeling a rush of joy course through his
body. It had been over 2000 years since he’d last touched his darling Phoebus,
but he’d held hands twice now with Phillip. Granted, holding hands wasn’t much,
but it was progress and it was a simple gesture that pleased him to no end.
“Where would you like to go next?” Damien asked as they left the museum, hands
still connected.
Phillip glanced at his watch, “Well, we still have some time before dinner, so
maybe the arcade? It’s close enough that we can just walk.”
“Alright. Lead me.”
Pip looked up at him and smiled, shifting closer.
For a split second Damien wondered if it would be appropriate to kiss him, but
he decided against it. Couldn’t risk screwing up something that was going so
well.
“’Ey! Faggot!” A harsh voice ripped through the air and instantly set Damien
into “pissed off” mode.
Pip whimpered and moved closer to him, not turning around to face the fat boy
who’d walked up behind him.
“I’m talkin’ to you!”
“Just leave us alone, Eric. Please. We’re not hurting anyone…” Pip whimpered as
he moved closer to Damien, still not turning around.
Damien did not like the way this boy’s presence made his dearest cower in fear.
“Uh, fags. You’re hurting people by simply existing. You go around, having sex
with everything and giving everybody AIDS. Yeah, remember AIDS? That was your
fault, faggot.”
Damien wasn’t sure what ‘fags’ meant, but he had been around when AIDS started
and he knew enough to guess what was basically being implied.
And he did not like it.
“Why don’t you shut your mouth you fucking fat slob.” He snapped.
Both boys seemed shocked.
“Wh… What did you say to me?” Eric asked in a stunned tone of voice.
“Come on, Damien, let’s just go…” Pip whispered, pushing against his chest in
an attempt to move him. It was no use. He was as solid and rigid as a stone
wall.
“You heard me, fatass. Keep your goddamn mouth shut.” He growled, voice getting
deeper with anger.
“You can’t talk to me like that you faggot!” Eric snapped in a high, angry and
whiny voice.
“Fuck you! I’ll speak to you however I please! I’m above you, you sick, greedy
fucking swine!” His voice was getting louder now. If it continued at this pace
it wouldn’t matter what he said, it would all be in another language anyway.
Sometimes he just got so angry he couldn’t remember any other language than his
own.
“You’re not above me! It’s the fags fault we have AIDS! Do you know how many
people a year die of AIDS? That makes you murderers!”
“Excuse me?” Damien growled, “You’re Caucasian, right? Would you like me to
start naming all the shit you’ve caused? Pick a time period and I’ll give you
five examples of shitty things your people have been responsible for!”
“Uh, well, I-” Cartman stuttered, backing off slightly.
Damien quickly moved around Phillip and stopped just inches from the tubby boy.
With one hand he reached out and gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him up
off the ground, “Now listen here you disgusting piece of shit. I don’t give a
flying fuck about what you think of me or anyone else, but if you so much as
look at Pip again, I swear to whatever shitty fucking god you believe in that
you will regret it! I percutiamque vos!”
With that, he threw him to the ground, where he landed with a pathetic yelp.
Damien turned back around and caught eyes with Phillip, who was staring at him
wide-eyed, hand covering his agape mouth. He was obviously quite frightened.
Damien walked toward him and put his hand out, heart tearing when Pip flinched
slightly. He gently rested the hand on his head, tangling his fingers in golden
hair, “Mē miseret, amatus meus.” He said gently, unable to come up with the
proper words in English. Phillip relaxed and gave a weary smile. Damien flashed
a smile of his own, “Te amo.”
It felt so good to say that again, even if the other didn’t understand it.
He moved his hand to Pip’s shoulder and turned him around, leading him away
from the now-crying chubby boy.
“Thank you.” Pip said when they were further away, “No one’s ever stood up for
me before.”
“Of course, my dear. I could never stand by and watch you be hurt.”
Pip giggled and moved closer, allowing Damien to slide his arm across the
blonde’s slender shoulders. “You’re like my knight in shining armor.” He said
with a laugh, leaning against him.
The proximity allowed Damien to catch his scent.
He smelled just like Phoebus.
The odd sounds and loud music got on Damien’s nerves as soon as they walked
into the building. He didn’t like the flashing lights all over the machines or
the kids running past him screaming. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”
He admitted.
Pip looked up at him innocently, “Have you never been to an arcade?”
“No, I haven’t. I have no idea what the hell this place is. What are these
machines for? Why is it so loud? Is that supposed to be music? Because it
sounds like shit to me.” He said, anger getting the better of him.
“Won’t you try it, please? Just for a little bit?” Pip begged.
Damien looked down at him, anger slowly dissipating, “You should know that at
no point will I ever be able to outright so ‘no’ to you.”
Pip smiled, “I’ll be sure to remember that when I need a favor.” He tugged on
his arm, leading him further into the hectic room, “Now let’s find you a game
you might enjoy.”
Damien allowed himself to be led through the small crowds of people toward a
less populated area. They stopped in front of a machine with a bunch of yellow
dot people on it.
“This is Pac-man.” Pip said, “It’s a good game to start with. Wait here and
I’ll go buy us some quarters.”
“Wait,” Damien said, pulling his wallet out, “How much is it for quarters?”
Phillip gave him a strange look, “Um, the normal amount?”
Damien quickly realized that the question had been a very, very bad one. He
handed Pip his wallet, “Buy however many you want.”
“Oh, um… Alright.” He hesitantly took the wallet and left.
Damien looked at the machine, watching the yellow dot man slide around, eating
white dots. For some reason there were colorful blobs following him and fruit
shaped blocks were lying about. Yellow dot seemed to be trapped in a maze as
well, but with two exits- Oh, no, those weren’t exits, apparently. Yellow dot
man was trapped completely with no escape.
What an incredibly strange game.
“Hey, how’s the date going?” A familiar voice asked. Damien turned around and
was surprised, and oddly relieved, to see Kenny.
“I have no idea what I’m doing.” Damien admitted, “He dragged me in here.”
“You’re 3000 years old and you’ve never played a video game? What the fuck have
you been doing?”
“Surviving.”
“Ah, well… I suppose I could teach you. I’m pretty great at these, after all.”
Kenny said with a smug look.
Damien stepped aside, gesturing toward the machine, “It’s all yours. But, you
need those quarter things to operate it.”
“Oh god…” Kenny mumbled, cringing, “You didn’t ask someone what a quarter was,
did you?”
“Phillip went to get them. I gave him my wallet because I am unsure of their
worth.”
“Wow. How the hell have you been ‘surviving’ without knowing the value of
money?”
“Simple. I take what I want and rarely pay for anything. If I do pay, I just
give them a bill with a large number on it.”
“How did you buy your car the- You took it, didn’t you?”
“I was tired of walking.”
Kenny sighed and stepped up to the machine, “Obviously you need to socialize
more or something. You better pay me back for this too. Unlike you, I can’t
just take what I want and I don’t have much money.” He pulled a shiny circle
from his pocket and stuck it in the machine.
Damien watched closely as the game started and Kenny gripped the stick in his
right hand.
“See, you just collect all these white dots while avoiding the ghosts. They
kill you if they touch you. If you get a fruit then they change colors and run
and you can catch them and kill them, sending them back to the room in the
middle. That effect doesn’t last very long though so be careful. If you get all
the white dots you move to the next level. If you die three times then it’s
game over and you have to put in another coin.”
“Sounds boring.” Damien proclaimed, “What’s the point of this anyway?”
“You can win tickets, which you can exchange at the counter for prizes. The
only good prizes are really expensive though so you have to win an insane
amount of tickets. That sort of sucks. Fuck!” Kenny grumbled as a ghost caught
up to him, “I’m not that great at this game, honestly. First person shooters
are more my style.”
“Then move. I want to have a go at it.”
Kenny quickly moved out of the way and let Damien take over before the game
started again on the second life.
Damien became accustomed to the controls within a few moments and was soon
moving about the little maze smoothly.
Two levels later Kenny spoke up, “How are you so fucking good at this? And on
your first try?”
“Battle experience. This is basically just like being at war. The one with the
better strategy wins.” Damien explained as he calmly moved his yellow circle
man around the screen.
“Oh… So you were pretty good then?”
“There’s a reason the Holy Roman Empire was never able to take over Thistelys.”
“Thistelys? Never heard of it.”
“It disappeared a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
“I got angry.”
“Ah… What pissed you off so much you leveled a city?”
Damien didn’t answer.
Pip appeared moments later, pockets jingling, “Sorry that took so long, there
was a line. I bought five dollars’ worth. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. That’s why I gave you my wallet.” Damien replied, not looking
away from the screen.
“Well, thank you.” Pip smiled. He turned to Kenny, “Do you and Damien know each
other?”
“Sort of.” Kenny shrugged, “He let me keep my life in exchange for dating
advice.”
“Fuck you!” Damien snapped, still focused on the game.
Pip giggled and stood next to Damien, watching him, “You’re not bad at this.”
“I guess I’m just a natural.”
Crowds were not something Damien was comfortable with. He hated them, in fact,
and often did what he could to avoid them.
Except now he seemed to be drawing them in.
He could sense eyes watching him, lots of eyes, and some were so close it
bothered him, while others were further away. He could hear people talking to
each other about him and how well he was doing on some silly electronic box.
It irritated him.
“Dude you are kicking ass on this game.” Kenny grinned next to him.
“Level fifty already. I think Pac-Man has over a hundred though.” Pip added.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Damien growled, “I’m not doing this for 100 more
levels!” Too many people had gotten too close and he simply did not want to put
up with it any longer. He purposefully ran into ghosts until the words “GAME
OVER” appeared on screen.
“Aw, weak man…” Kenny grumbled.
“Well, at least we get a lot of tickets for doing so well.” Pip smiled.
As if on cue, little squares of paper began pouring out of the machine.
“You can have them.” Damien said to Phillip, “Go find something you really like
at the counter and I’ll win you enough tickets to get it.”
“R-really?” Pip blushed, shocked.
“Really.” He gathered up the tickets and handed them to Phillip, “Keep these
for now. Go find something at the counter while Kenny and I find another game.”
“Alright.” Pip replied, taking the arm load of tickets. He turned slightly,
“Get some quarters out of my pocket to play and I’ll find you later.”
Damien faltered, unsure if sticking his hand in Pip’s pants was appropriate.
Then again, Pip seemed innocent enough and obviously wasn’t the type of person
to do lewd things in public, so it couldn’t be that bad. He reached down and
slipped his hand in Pip’s front pocket, grabbing about six of the shiny disks.
Phillips body was warm against his hand. It made a rush of excitement course
through his veins.
An hour and six hundred tickets later, the trio walked out of the arcade with a
fourth addition to the group.
Pip giggled as he squeezed his large, purple, stuffed bear, “Thank you so much,
Damien!”
“Anytime, carus meus.” Damien replied smoothly.
“Pedophile.” Kenny grumbled next to him, earning him a sharp look. He shrugged
it off, “I’m going to get going. I gotta throw together a picnic dinner before
I sneak into Butters’ room tonight. He’s grounded again, as usual.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Pip said with a frown.
“Let me drop you off.” Damien offered, “My car isn’t very far.”
“Are you sure? My house is sort of out of the way…”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” A gentleman would never deny a friend a kind service.
“Well, thank you.” Kenny smiled, slightly embarrassed.
It didn’t take long to walk to the car. Phillip strapped Violetta in the back
with Kenny and soon they were off. It only took ten minutes to get to Kenny’s
home and Damien was less than pleased with what he saw.
Run-down, poverty stricken slums.
“Thanks for the ride. I owe you.” Kenny said, climbing out.
“Wait here.” Damien instructed Pip as he too got out. He shut the door behind
him so Phillip couldn’t hear the conversation and took out his wallet. He
pulled a 100 dollar bill out and offered it to Kenny.
The blond was quickly offended, “Okay, I know I’m poor and you’re better off
than me and all, but I do not take pity money.”
“This isn’t pity money.” Damien replied, “It’s the only way I know how to
express my thanks. You’ve put up with me for two days, helped me with my
problems, and have even kept a secret I’ve never told anyone. You’re the first
person in 2000 years that I can call my friend. It’s not about pity, it’s about
thanks.”
Kenny paused, obviously caught off guard by the answer.
There was a short pause before he hesitantly reached out and took the bill, “I…
don’t really know what to say…”
“Well don’t start crying or anything. I can’t deal with that.”
Kenny laughed. “Do you have a cell phone?” He asked.
Damien just shrugged, silently saying that he didn’t even know what that was.
“Alright, well, pick me up from school tomorrow at three and I’ll teach you
some more things about the 21st Century.”
Damien smiled, “I accept your offer and look forward to seeing you again.”
“Sweet. Thanks, bro.” Kenny smiled and held his fist out.
Damien gave him an expectant look.
Kenny sighed, rolling his eyes, “Make a fist.”
Damien balled his fist and held it up like Kenny’s.
Smiling, Kenny bumped their fists together.
The dark haired boy was obviously unimpressed, “What on earth did that
accomplish?”
“It’s a fist bump. It’s what people my age do these days. It’s like a
handshake, but quicker.”
“…Right. I’ll keep that in mind… Good day.”
“See ya.”
Kenny jogged up to his house while Damien got back into the car. “Where do you
want to eat?” He asked as they pulled away from the curb.
Phillip shrugged, “I don’t really want you to have to buy me anything else….”
“Why? I’m the one who invited you out, therefore I pay.”
“Well… Maybe we could see a movie and just have something at the theater?” Pip
suggested.
Was it ok to skip dinner on a date?
“If that’s what you want, then I don’t see a problem.”
Popcorn was quickly added to Damien’s list of things that he actually liked
about this Century. The big fluffy pretzels with cheese were also good.
Hotdogs, not so much.
He sort of wished Kenny had stayed with them. He had a lot of questions about
this ‘movie’ business. How were those people on screen? Were they real people?
Was this some sort of black magic?
He was very confused, but kept silent about it. There was no need to alert
Phillip to the fact that he was so far out of touch with this Century.
Speaking of Phillip…
Pip was currently leaning against his right side, absent-mindedly reaching for
popcorn whenever the desire struck him. He was focused on the movie, which
seemed to be some sort of insane tale about pirates that Damien knew was
nowhere near accurate. It was interesting enough, but the vast number of
inaccurate facts also bothered him.
He didn’t pay much attention to the large images in front of him. Instead, he
enjoyed feeling Pip’s warmth against his side.
“I had a lovely day.” Pip smiled as he stopped outside his door, “You’ll stop
by the diner tomorrow, right?”
“Of course.” Damien said with a smile, “Maybe we could have lunch together?”
“I’d love to! I go on break at one.” He squeezed Violetta a little tighter
against his chest.
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then, carus meus.”
“You never did tell me what language that was…” Pip said, looking up with
pleading eyes.
Damien grinned, “It’s not important right now. I’ll tell you later, alright?”
Pip seemed confused by this, but let it slide, “Well, alright then… I suppose
it isn’t all that important right now…” He looked a little hurt.
Damien gently gripped the boy’s upper arms, pulling him closer.
Was it okay to kiss on the first date? If it was then would Phillip be offended
if he didn’t? And if it wasn’t okay then would Phillip be offended if he did?
He wasn’t sure. Maybe something in the middle would be acceptable?
Phillip’s scent invaded his senses when he leaned down and pressed his lips
into golden blond hair. He was pleased at the little gasp Pip emitted when he
pulled him a little closer. He could sense his fluttering heartbeat.
It was difficult to pull away.
He was finally able to move away, though not before taking a deep breath and
gathering as much of the intoxicating scent as possible.
Phillip was blushing, “I, um…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Te amo.”
“O-okay…”
Damien grinned and stepped away, “Goodnight, amor meus.”
“Goodnight…” Pip smiled again and squeezed Violetta.
So cute.
Damien walked away as Phillip entered the apartment building. He got into his
car and pulled away, heading back for the hotel he’d hijacked for the night.
His head was swimming and he found it difficult to think of anything but his
darling Phoeb-
No. Phillip. His name was Phillip now.
Phoebus had passed on long ago, but Phillip carried the reincarnated soul.
Same soul, different body, that’s all it was. He was sure that the soul itself
would be naturally be attracted to him, as it had been the first time, so all
he really needed to do was wait around until Phillip was comfortable with him.
Shouldn’t take long.
Pip leaned with his back against his apartment door, Violetta squeezed tightly
against his chest.
His heart was beating rapidly and he found himself slightly breathless. His
mind was a jumble, his emotions were conflicting and he was simply at a loss of
what to think or feel.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting it out slowly with each
word, “Please… Please don’t let him be using me… I don’t think I could stand
it…”
Chapter End Notes
     We're more than halfway done, so that's cool. Maybe let me know what
     you think so far? What are your guesses on what happened to Phoebus?
     Or with Apollo? I'd love to know. It helps me determine if my writing
     is too predictable.
***** Dream's End *****

“Lady Phaedra, may I speak with you in private?” Apollo calls from behind me.
I stop and turn slightly, allowing him to catch up, “What is it?”
“There is an urgent matter I need to speak with you about.” He stops next to
me, “May we go to your chamber?”
“Should you not speak with Damien first?”
“No. This is for your ears only, my Lady.”
I nod after a slight pause, “Fine. Follow me.”
I lead him to my and my husband’s chamber. He closes the door tightly behind
us.
“What is it that has you so worked up, Apollo?” I ask as I take a seat in my
chair at my vanity. I begin brushing my hair as he speaks.
“My Lady, there is more to your husband than what meets the eye.”
“I am aware.”
“Then you’ve noticed that he never ages, and that when he holds a grudge
against someone, they often disappear soon after? He is not right.”
I set the brush down, “Apollo, everyone here has noticed these things. We don’t
question it. He hasn’t done any great harm against this city or the people, so
why dig any deeper than the surface?”
“My Lady…” He comes closer to me, his voice dropping, “I have seen the mark on
his chest and found it in ancient writings, along with the language he speaks.
He is well over a thousand years of age. He is not human.”
His words frighten me, but I don’t show it. Damien is my husband and he has
only ever shown me love and affection. My loyalty will not be shaken. “Then
what do you suppose he is, Apollo?”
“He’s a Demon. A very powerful Demon. If my research is correct, he is Satan’s
spawn.”
I don’t speak. I can’t. I have no idea what I could possibly say to that. My
Damien, a Demon? And, not just any Demon, but one from the loins of Satan
himself?
“I… How do you know this?”
He pulls a book from his satchel and shows it to me, “It’s all in here.” The
book is very old. He carefully opens it to a page near the end and points at
the drawing, “You see this? It’s the same mark he bears, in the same location.”
I know him to be correct. The marking itself is located right above his heart,
and bears a resemblance to three six’s in a circular pattern.
I cannot form words. I whimper and look away, my mind racing.
So the man I have called my husband, my lover, for four years, is a Demon? A
spawn of Satan himself? Does he really love me then? Is he using me? Why bother
at all, if he is just going to outlive me? Am I being manipulated somehow? Why
me?
I’m vaguely aware of the fact that tears begin to sting my eyes.
Apollo is in front of me in seconds, gently pulling me to my feet. “It’s
alright, Phaedra.” He gently hushes me, “I will protect you. We can run away
from here, together.”
“But, I… I don’t…” I whimper.
He pulls me against him, “I won’t let him hurt you anymore, I swear it…”
He kisses me.
I freeze, unable to fathom what is happening. Everything is going too fast!
It’s so far out of my control… I don’t know what’s truth or lies or who wants
to hurt me and who loves me…
He breaks the kiss and looks down at me with a soft smile, “I love you,
Phaedra.”
That’s wrong. My name is not Phaedra, it is Phoebus. This is a truth, and it’s
enough to get my mind working again.
I push him away and back up, “NO! You do not truly know me and you do not love
me like he does! You could never love me like Damien does… And I could never
love anyone as I do him.”
“He’ll kill you!” Apollo testifies, “He is a Demon, he’s getting pleasure from
using you in his sick game!”
“No…” I hold myself, “He loves me more than any human ever could…”
Apollo growls and picks his book up from where it was dropped to the floor. He
flips through a few pages until he finds what he’s looking for and shows it to
me. “You see this? He needs a pure soul to use as an essential tool in bringing
an end to civilization as we know it. By destroying a soul that bears no black
marks he can force open the gate to Heaven, allowing Demons to swarm in and
tear it apart. What do you think that would do to our world? We would get
caught in the crossfires of all-out war!”
I shake my head, refusing to believe in what he’s told me, “No, he loves me. He
would never do anything to hurt me…”
“He’s been using you! Charming you so that you’ll obey his every command!”
“You’re wrong! Get out! Get out of our chamber before he comes back and sees
how upset you’ve made me! He’ll have your head for such lies and you know it!
Leave before you sentence yourself to death!” I’m sobbing at this point, but I
can’t bother to make myself stop. I just want him to leave, so I can think.
But, he doesn’t leave. He stares at me for several seconds and I see his
emotions slowly change his face into rage. “I hadn’t wanted to do this… But you
leave me no choice…” He pulls a knife from his pouch, “Horatious left me with
no other choice either. He was actually protecting that demon. And Justinian?
Well, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time…” He advances on me, knife
raised and poised to kill.
I gasp and search for an escape, but the only ones are all on the opposite side
of him.
“Please…” I beg, “You’re not well right now, that’s all… If you’ll just sit
down for a bit I’m sure you’ll feel better soon…” I attempt to reason with him.
Of course, it does nothing.
“I have to kill you,” He reasons, “If you’re dead, he can’t use your soul to
start a war…”
I attempt to run past him instead, but he grabs my wrist as I go past. He
squeezes tightly and twists, making me scream. He pulls me against him and
presses his hand against my mouth, “Hush now, my Lady… It’ll be over soon.” He
whispers.
I struggle but I am not even half as strong as he. He kisses my neck and runs
his knife up my leg, pushing his groin against my bottom. “It’s a pity. I
thought for sure we could be together…”
He quickly spins me around to face him and I yelp as my chest is split with
pain. My mouth hangs open in a silent scream while no air fills my lungs.
I cannot breath, I cannot speak, and I cannot move.
He slowly lowers me to the ground until I’m on my knees. He yanks the knife
from my body and forces it in again, drawing a gasp from me this time. He holds
the knife steady and pushes me to the floor on my back, the knife sliding out
as I fall.
“Such a pity… You’re so beautiful…” He uses my stola to wipe the blood from his
knife and stands.
I try to call out, but nothing but little gasps escape my throat. I watch him
leave through a window and disappear. I lie on the floor, whimpering in pain as
blood pours from my wound and flows up my throat into my mouth. It’s drowning
me.
I see the door slowly slide open as Damien calls to me, “Phaedra?”
He steps inside and there’s a smile on his face that he reserves only for me
and a bundle of flowers in his hand that I know he’s hand-picked from the
garden.
His eyes fall on me and instantly he’s horrified. “PHOEBUS!” He yells, dropping
the flowers and running, falling to the floor beside me. He gently picks me up
and cradles me, “Phoebus, can you hear me?!”
I cough up some blood, trying to clear my throat.
“It’s alright…” He whimpers, “Don’t talk, save your strength, I’ll get you
help…” It’s the weakest I have ever heard him.
“A-Ap-ollo.” I cough.
“Apollo did this to you?”
“An… Hor-at…” I can’t finish the sentence, but I know he understands. It’s part
of the bond we share.
He pulls me tightly against him, placing kisses on my face, “Phoebus… Phoebus,
I love you so much…”
I whimper, knowing he understands.
“It’s not fair…” He begins to cry, “You were supposed to stay with me… I was
going to keep you with me for eternity…” He’s sobbing now and holding me
tightly, gently rocking me.
I am so happy to hear him say that… I was right. He wasn’t using me, he does
love me…
“Te amo… te amo…” He repeats it over and over as he rocks me.
I feel myself growing tired and I know I am leaving soon. I close my eyes and
listen to his words and enjoy his warmth, until I cannot hear him or feel him
any longer.
Phillip woke with a start. His heart was pounding, his chest was sore and he
was crying. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. It didn’t
help. He began sobbing and shaking. The dream had been far too vivid and he
knew he could never go back to that place with his prince.
No, Lord. Lord Damien. The names, the faces, everything was in stunning detail
in his mind. It was not a dream, it was a memory. A memory of who he used to
be?
He shakily reached over and grabbed Violetta, pulling her tightly against his
chest. His sobbing lightened, but only slightly. He needed to see Damien.
He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself so he could think.
There were two hotels in South Park; the ritzy one on the high end of town and
the nice one on the lower end. Damien would probably prefer the nicer one, but
the other one was closer to the diner where he’d come into town.
He’d try that one first.
Phillip climbed out of bed and quickly packed himself a small overnight bag
containing a change of clothes and his work uniform, along with a few other
essential items. He slipped on a jacket and shoes and grabbed Violetta before
leaving.
It was dark and cold and Phillip quickly regretted his decision, but he refused
to turn around.
It didn’t take long to find the hotel, since it was closer to him than the
diner. The lights were off in the main office, which made sense since it was
well past 3am. He spotted a black Mustang parked in front of one of the rooms,
23 to be exact, and decided to start there.
He urgently knocked on the door. A light, probably from a lamp, came on inside
a few seconds later and his heart fluttered as he heard the lock turn.
The door flew open and he was met with a hate-filled glare that truly
frightened him. It was gone almost instantly, however, and replaced with a
concerned look, “Phillip? What’re you doing here that this hour?”
Without warning, the blond began sobbing. Damien panicked and grabbed his arm,
pulling him inside, “Here, come sit down!” He shut and locked the door before
leading Phillip to the bed and seating him, “What is it, carus meus? Are you
alright? Did someone hurt you?” He asked urgently, taking a seat beside the boy
and running his hand comfortingly through soft blond locks.
“N-no…” Pip whimpered, “I just… Had a b-bad dream…”
“Is that all? You’re okay now… I’m here.” Damien whispered, gently kissing his
temple and pulling him close, “I’ll always be here.”
Pip suddenly realized that Damien was completely naked, but it didn’t really
bother him. He moved away enough to slip the backpack and his jacket off and
toss them to the floor. He leaned against the older man and held Violetta
tightly, enjoying the closeness and warmth of the other.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Damien offered.
Pip shook his head, “No… Not tonight… Can I sleep here though?”
“Of course, amor meus.”
Phillip smiled and stood, sitting Violetta down on the floor next to the bed.
Damien got under the blanket and made room for him.
Pip wondered if he too should strip naked. He removed his pajama top and
bottom, but left his boxers on and got into bed next to Damien.
“You have bruises…” Damien noted, looking him over.
“A lot of people don’t like me…” Pip mumbled, curling against Damien’s side.
Damien said nothing more about it. He pulled the covers over both of them and
laid on his back, pulling Phillip closer. The blond laid his head on his
shoulder and rested his hand over the mark over Damien’s heart. He felt lips
gently kiss his head and he smiled.
He’d tell Damien all about his dreams soon, but not tonight. He wanted to sleep
again for now, and see if he could remember any more of that place.
Phillip was surprised to find that he’d woken up at his usual time, without the
aid of an alarm. Habit, he supposed.
There had been no other dream, only the darkness of sleep.
He didn’t want to get out of bed, or more accurately move away from Damien, but
eventually he decided that he really needed to go to work. He attempted to push
himself up, but a strong arm was quick to pull him back against a fit body.
“Damien…” He grumbled, “I have to go to work…”
“No you don’t.” Damien replied, running his hand through Pip’s hair, “I’ll take
care of you.”
“And how do you expect to do that with no job?”
“Travel with me.”
Pip paused, thinking it over. He did not have many possessions, so he could
probably pull it off. It would be easy enough to sell them or give them away,
then just keep a few things and travel the country with this stunning man.
But, not today.
“I really have to go to work. Wayne will call if I don’t show and when I don’t
answer he’ll be worried.”
Damien made an irritated noise, but released him.
Pip pushed himself out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
Afterwards he wrapped a towel around himself and stepped out of the bathroom,
mind set on going to get clothes out of his bag.
His plan was quickly derailed when he saw Damien sitting completely naked on
the end of the bed, watching the news with a blank expression.
Pip couldn’t help but look over his fit body. How could such a perfect guy like
that ever want someone like him?
Like Phoebus?
They made eye contact and Pip quickly looked away, face heating up.
Damien smirked, “Like what you see?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…”
“It’s fine.” Damien stood, “It’s not like I’m mad.”
Pip shrugged, not looking at him.
The dark haired man chuckled and closed the short space between them, pulling
the smaller blond against him, “You’re adorable, you know that?”
“You think so?” Pip gave a shy smile and nuzzled the taller man’s neck,
“Because I think you’re quite attractive as well.”
“That’s good to know.” Damien mumbled, pulling Phillip’s face up by his chin.
They locked eyes for a moment before Damien sealed their lips together in a
heated kiss. The second their lips connected he knew he’d made a bad decision.
He could no longer keep himself in control and soon his hands began roaming of
their own free will all over the boy’s body.
Pip gasped when his towel was swiftly removed, but he was too far gone to
really notice. He shuddered at the sensation of Damien’s lips and body pressing
against him and the hands gliding across his body. He moaned when they squeezed
his buttocks and a shiver ran down his spine when Damien let out a feral growl
in response. He felt something hard pressing into his thigh and it took him
several seconds to finally realize what it was.
The searing kiss left both of them panting and breathless.
Phillip leaned up for another kiss, but Damien moved his face away.
“If you want to stop, we have to now.” Damien panted, “Because if this
continues I won’t be able to.”
Phillip lightly bit his lip, unsure of what he wanted to do. He needed to go to
work, but at the same time he wanted more than anything to be with Damien… “I…
I’m not sure…” He admitted.
Damien gently pushed him away, “If you’re not sure, then you’re not ready. I’ll
shower while you’re getting dressed and drive you to work, okay?”
“Okay…” Phillip replied, mood dropping. Damien gave him a kind smile and a
quick kiss before departing for the bathroom.
“And you’re absolutely sure I need this?” Damien asked as they left the store.
“Yeah, pretty much.” Kenny replied, “Everyone needs a cell phone these days.”
“We did just fine without them in my time.”
“Well suck it up, because people today can’t function without one.”
Damien mumbled something spiteful in Latin. He pressed buttons on the tiny
device in his hands, thoroughly confused over the little icons and odd words
displayed. “If I can’t figure out how to use it, then why do I need it?”
“Relax, I’ll just teach you simple shit like calling and texting. You don’t
have to worry about anything else right now.”
“If you insist…”
“I can’t believe you haven’t kept up with technology…”
“Fuck you, it evolves far too quickly.”
Kenny chuckled and shrugged, “I guess that’s true.”
After dropping Kenny off back home Damien returned to the hotel and gathered
his and Pip’s things. With everything in his backseat he headed to the diner
where Pip would be getting off work soon. He parked in front of the eatery and
shut off the engine.
Twenty minutes ticked by before a cute blond walked out of the front door.
Damien honked, gaining his attention.
Phillip seemed startled by the sudden noise, but a smile spread across his face
and he quickly jogged over. He opened the passenger door and climbed in, “Fancy
meetin’ you here.”
Damien grinned, “I hope what happened this morning didn’t affect my invitation
into your home?”
“Of course not!” Phillip replied with a slight blush, “I would never revoke an
invitation.”
“Good.” Damien said, placing his hand on Pip’s knee, earning himself an
adorable squeak.
The apartment was simple and clean. It consisted of a living room, kitchen,
bathroom and one bedroom. Though it was not exactly the ritziest place he’d
ever been, it held a certain quality that Damien couldn’t help but like.
“Sorry it’s so messy.” Pip apologized as he took the backpack and Violetta into
his room.
Damien looked around, a little confused, “Messy? I can hardly tell someone
lives here.”
“I was talking about my room.” Phillip called.
Damien walked down the short hallway into the bedroom. While it was indeed more
lived-in than the living room or kitchen, it was still far from messy. “It’s
not that bad, really.”
“It is for me.” Pip unpacked his bag and put everything away, then started on
picking up his room.
Damien took a seat at the desk, watching the blond with interest. He rested his
arm on the desk and felt his elbow bump something, the sensation gaining his
attention. He looked down and found a purple fake-leather book. He gently
picked it up and examined it before flipping it open and thumbing through it.
The pages were filled with loopy, elegant writing and each one was marked with
a date.
“No!” Phillip yelled, crossing the room in seconds and snatching the book from
Damien’s grasp. He quickly yanked open a drawer, threw it inside, then slammed
it shut, leaning against the desk. He gave an embarrassed look, “Sorry, that’s
private.”
“What is it?”
“My… dream diary.”
“Oh? Do you have a lot of interesting dreams?”
Pip shifted slightly, “Well, sort of… Just one, really.”
“You have an entire book for one dream?” Damien raised an eyebrow, reaching out
and gently tugging at Pip’s belt loop.
Phillip relented and took a seat in his lap, “It’s hard to explain.”
“You can try.”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have all the time in the world, carus meus.”
Pip fidgeted, looking at the floor, “I’m… afraid you’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I could never think that of you, amor meus.”
“Well… I’ve been having this dream since I was fifteen, but it’s not really a
dream,” Phillip explained slowly, not looking up, “It’s like… I’m in another
life, like I’m seeing it through someone else’s eyes, day by day. I started
writing it all out in the diary. I’d tell you more, but… I feel like, maybe you
know what the dreams are about already.” He looked up hopefully.
Damien was completely shocked. His heart hammered in his chest as he silently
hoped that Phillip was indeed remembering his life as Phobeus. He reached up
and ran a hand through golden blond hair, “What makes you say that?”
Pip bit his lip in thought before speaking, “Last night… In my dream, I could
remember everything so vividly. Before, I could never remember names or faces,
just events. But, last night was different…” He fidgeted again, “Please… Just
tell me it was you. That I’m not crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.” Damien whispered, pulling the blond into a deep kiss.
Phillip whimpered and gripped Damien’s short tightly, pulling himself closer.
He wanted more than anything for the dreams to have been real, for Damien to
love him like that.
They parted after several seconds of deep kissing, leaving both panting. Damien
spoke first, “May I read them?”
“What?”
“May I read what you wrote about Thistelys?”
“Thistelys… Is that where we lived?”
“Yes.”
“Why did it disappear?”
“That’s a story for another day.” Damien replied gently, running his hands
through soft locks, “May I read the diary?”
“Oh, um… Yes, but let me write the last entry first.”
Damien quirked an eyebrow, “Last? How do you know it will be the last?”
Pip leaned his head against Damien’s shoulder, lightly nuzzling it, “Because, I
died last night.”
Damien stiffened, “What?”
“I died.” Pip repeated, looking up, “Apollo killed me…”
Damien squeezed him tightly, lightly kissing his head, “I was hoping you would
not remember that…”
Phillip gently pecked him on the cheek in return, “It’s alright.” He stood,
“I’ll make some dinner and you can start on the first diary, if you’d like.”
Damien stood as well, “There’s more than one?”
“Of course,” Pip smiled, “I’ve been reliving our life every night for three
years. I’ve filled lots of diaries.”
“Well… I guess I have a lot of reading to do.”
***** Secrets *****
Pip awoke from a fitful sleep. His dreams seemed to be filled with nonsense
that he had learned filled most other people’s dreams. It saddened him to know
that he would truly not be going back to his other life. He sat up and
stretched, only to fall back onto the bed and roll over.
Damien was sitting next to him, one of the diaries open in his hands. He’d been
reading them nearly non-stop for five days, and now he was nearing the end.
Phillip curled up against him, resting his head on Damien’s stomach, “Mornin’,
ducky.”
“Good morning, love.”
“Are you almost done?”
“This is the last diary.”
Phillip smiled and pushed himself up. He gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the
cheek before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. He’d taken to sleeping
naked as Damien did.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“Anything is fine.”
Phillip left the room and headed into the kitchen, dragging a pan out of the
cupboard. He turned the oven on and set the pan on the counter, tilting his
head in thought.
What was he in the mood for?
… Pancakes.
Damien hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he’d actually stayed up a large
portion of the night in order to finish the diary that day. He flipped the page
and saw it was dated five days prior.
The last entry.
His attention was immediately captured by the names on the page; Apollo,
Damien, and Phoebus all stood out to him, since no other page contained any
names.
He hesitated in his reading. He knew what this entry contained, and he honestly
did not want to relive the worst day of his life. He shook himself out of it,
however, and forced his eyes back to the page. He wanted, no needed, to know
what Phoebus experienced that day, no matter how much it would hurt him to read
it.
It’s not like he was losing him again in any real sense. Phillip was right down
the hall, afterall.
It took him all of five minutes to read the entry and by the end he was furious
at what Apollo had done, glad to know that Phoebus was at peace when he passed,
and relieved that his love had known about what he was and had still loved him.
He took a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure, and looked back down at
the page; more specifically at the little block of text at the end.

‘Damien,
Now that you’ve finished reading this, I’d like it if we could talk about it. I
still have so many questions about our previous life that my dreams could never
answer. I know you like to keep your secrets, but it would mean the world to me
if you’d open up a little and share things with me that you didn’t with
Phoebus. I’m not going to force you though, so just come to me when you’re
ready.
Phillip’

He closed the diary and got out of bed, sitting it on the desk before getting
dressed. He quietly left the room and went to the kitchen.
“You’re just in time.” Phillip said when he saw Damien walk into the kitchen.
He sat two plates on the table and smiled at the other man, “What would you
like to drink?”
Without a word Damien pulled the blond into a tight embrace, pressing their
lips together in a passionate kiss. Phillip squeaked in surprised, but quickly
responded to the kiss and wrapped his arms around his love.
They parted several seconds later, but the embrace did not loosen. Damien
placed gentle kisses along the blonde’s face and neck, nuzzling into the soft
skin of his shoulder.
Phillip giggled at the sensations, “I take it you finished the diaries?”
Damien hummed in response, pulling the lithe body a little tighter against his
own.
Pip lightly bit his lip, “Do you think we could… talk?”
“Yes.” Damien replied in a near whisper, then louder, “I’ll tell you what you’d
like to know after we eat.”
Phillip smiled, gently removing himself from the embrace, “I’m so glad.”
“Te amo.” Damien whispered.
“I love you too.” Phillip replied without thinking. It stunned him a little
that the words had come out so easily, but he felt as though they hadn’t been a
lie.
He’d fallen for Damien.
Twice.
Phillip quietly cleaned the kitchen before wandering into the living room and
taking a seat next to the demon on the couch. Damien was watching the news with
an irritated expression.
“What’s wrong?” Pip asked gently, gaining his boyfriend’s attention.
“Everything, really.” Damien replied, “I mean, not specifically wrong, just
different. Culture changes so quickly, it’s a little ridiculous.”
“I suppose it does… If you don’t mind me asking… How old are you?” Phillip
asked timidly.
Damien looked at him, thinking over whether or not to lie. He settled for the
truth, “I’m not sure, really. But, I’m fairly certain I’m around 3000.”
“Oh my!” Phillip gasped, “That’s much older than I would have guessed…”
“Does it bother you?” Damien asked, a little worried.
Pip paused, thinking, then shook his head, “No. I know that you’re… not human,
but… it doesn’t bother me.”
“That’s a relief.” Damien said with a small smile, setting his hand on the
blonde’s knee.
Phillip shifted closer, resting his hand and chin on Damien’s shoulder, “Will
you tell me more about you?”
The demon hesitated slightly before speaking, “I was born around 1000BC. I
spent my first 300 years in Hell with my father and siblings before growing
bored and venturing to the service.”
“You have siblings?”
Damien nodded, “Several. Twelve brothers and ten sisters, I believe. I haven’t
talked to them in years though. Anyway, I spent many years wandering the land,
causing trouble for fun. The success of the Holy Roman Empire caught my
attention and I stayed in that area for awhile, then decided to start my own
city for laughs. Thistelys I called it.” Damien grinned slightly at the memory
of his incredible city, “It was one of the greatest cities in its day. Even
Holy Rome could not take it over. I worked very hard to make it perfect. It had
lively commerce, beautiful art, the grandest architecture, and a powerful
military. People would travel from faraway lands to see it. It could have
lasted centuries.”
“But it didn’t.” Pip whispered.
Damien shook his head slowly, “No. It did not.”
“Why not?”
“Because a day came when I could no longer stand the sight of my city and the
thought of simply leaving it drove me mad.”
“Why? What happened?”
Damien paused. He turned the television off and put an arm around the pretty
blond against him, “I noticed that the diary did not start at the beginning.”
“No… I don’t remember how we met or anything like that… It’s like I just
started in the middle.”
“You’re missing the first year of our relationship. I’d like to fill you in
first, before telling you anymore.”
“I’d like that.” Phillip replied, snuggling closer.
Damien grinned down at him, “Good. Best get comfortable, because this is a long
story.”
***** Thistelys *****
The city is beautiful this season. I love taking walks along the pathways
winding in and out of town. I prefer to go alone, but today my oldest and
dearest friend has insisted on accompanying me.
His name is Horatious. He has been my friend since he was in his twenties, some
fifteen or so seasons ago. He is the only human who knows of my secret, yet he
is not afraid of me.
My only true friend.
“My Lord, you must seriously consider finding a wife soon. You need to start a
family. Even if they won’t take over Thistelys you need to keep up
appearances.” Horatious explains in a hushed tone.
I am completely uninterested in what he’s telling me. I do not want or need a
wife, nor do I desire or require offspring. I would be living long past the
birth and death of any children I bore.
Besides, I am not interested in females in that way. I prefer partaking in
pleasurable activities with young men or boys. “I am well aware of my
situation, Horatious, thank you. I will not be scouting for a mate anytime
soon.” I explain in an even yet firm tone.
I have no time to do such trivial things. I’m running a damn city.
“Damien,” He sighs. He is the only one that I will allow to use my name.
“Please. You need someone by your side or people will begin to notice that-”
“That I’m not aging? Please. I do not care what they notice or what they say.
Besides, having an aging woman by my side would only make it that much more
apparent.”
“I suppose that’s true…” He taps his chin in thought.
I have no idea why he’s always so damn persistent over me finding a wife. She
would be of no use to me. In fact, she would surely only be a burden.
“Members of the Council are beginning to talk, Damien.” Horatious continues,
“You know how much people look down on those who do not contribute to
increasing the population. Even if you do not care about this woman, at least
raising children and taking care of them would stop the rumors.”
“Rumors? I care not for rumors. Let them speak. What can they possibly do to
me?” I reply. I am a Demon. I could not possibly even attempt to care about
what any human thinks of me.
He goes to speak again, but a commotion up ahead catches our attention. A group
of people at the edge of the market place are shouting at someone on the
ground.
“What is going on?” Horatious inquires as we draw near. The group stops and
makes way for us.
“He was stealing my goods!” A tall, aging man accuses, obviously one of the
shop keepers.
“What did he take?” Horatious asks.
“Two apples.”
Horatious says something to me, but I can’t hear it, nor do I care.
I stay hard at the boy on the ground.
He’s half-laying, half-sitting, his hands propping up his torso. He does not
look up, but faces the ground, allowing his long golden hair to cover his face.
His arms and legs are covered in cuts and bruises.
But, I’m more interested in what cannot be seen, or at least not seen by a
human. My Demon eyes allow me to see the strangely colored aura surrounding
him. His soul.
It is pure, bright, beautiful, white.
I have never seen one like it. Humans possess many different colored souls. The
darker the color, the more corrupt the person. Horatious’ soul is a light
green, while I know mine to be completely black.
Or, at least, it would be if I had one.
This boy, however, is harboring a completely pure soul, which I have never seen
in all my thousand years.
I go to him and kneel, “What’s your name?”
He does not speak.
“He does not have a name.” The shopkeeper explains, “He does not speak either.
He’s just an orphaned mongrel.”
The man’s words anger me, but I keep my composure so as not to upset the crowd.
These are still my people and I can’t have them see their ruler go mad on some
idiot.
“Can you stand?” I ask.
The boy doesn’t move at first, then shifts slightly, as though attempting to
push himself up, but makes an odd noise and rests again.
He is shaking.
“Horatious.” I call. My friend is at my side instantly. I look up at him,
silently asking for his help.
He bends down and puts strong yet gentle hands under each of the boy’s
shoulders and slowly helps him up.
I can see his face now. His blue eyes are concentrated on the ground; one of
them has a dark bruise around it. There’s a cut above his other eye and his
nose is bleeding.
It makes me angry.
He is still trembling as I take him from Horatious and let him lean against me,
“You can walk if I help, correct?”
A slow nod. It’s the most response I’ve gotten out of him thus far.
He takes a shaky step forward with me as we head back toward my palace.
“What are you planning to do with him?” Horatious asks as we sneak him into the
palace.
“I’m going to keep him, of course.” I reply.
Horatious is obviously displeased, “Damien, this boy is nothing but a lowly
peasant, you can’t-”
“Horatious you will not tell me what I can and can’t do. I will be making him
my ‘wife’.”
“What!?” He’s obviously shocked, “My Lord, he is a male, you can’t-!”
“What did I just say?” I snap. I already know exactly how I’m going to make
this work.
We enter my chamber and I gently guide him to the bed, allowing him to sit. I’m
finally able to get a better look at him. His body is covered in bruises, his
hair is a mess and he’s far too thin.
“Do you have a name?” I ask again. I don’t know if he can speak, but I try
anyway.
He doesn’t move for several moments, before finally giving a slow nod.
“…Phoebus…” I barely hear him utter.
“I am Damien.” I introduce, putting a hand on his knee. “Horatious.” I call,
“Have someone draw Phoebus and I a bath. I expect a meal to be ready when we’re
finished.”
Horatious is hesitant, but nods, “Yes, my Lord.”
Phoebus hesitates beside the bathtub. It’s surely larger than any other tub
he’s seen and I’m sure the petals dotting the surface make him uneasy. I help
him undress before helping him into the warm water. He immediately sits with
his legs against his chest and his arms crossed, hands holding his upper arms.
He stares at the water in silence.
I strip and join him, sitting down beside him, “How old are you, carus meus?”
“Fourteen.” He whispers.
Perfect.
“Let’s get you cleaned up for dinner, shall we?” I suggest, grabbing a cloth
from the side of the tub. I wet it and begin gently wiping off the dirt and
blood that is present all over him. I am careful of the dark bruises that cover
his body, but he still jerks and whimpers in pain when I touch most of them.
“Who hurt you?” I ask, moving to clean his face. I finally get a good look at
his eyes, which are a beautiful sky blue.
He shrugs, “People.”
“Anyone in particular?” I’m not sure why I’m prying. It’s rude.
“No.” I barely hear the answer. His voice is soft and quiet.
“Are you hungry?” I ask next, moving to clean his torso.
He nods.
“Good. After this we’ll get your hair fixed and some clean clothes. By then
dinner should be ready.” I gently hold his hand while I wipe down his arm. His
skin is soft and smooth.
“Thank you.” I hear him utter.
I give him my most sincere smile, “Of course, carus meus. I’m going to take
wonderful care of you.”
He smiles weakly and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Althea is one of the only people I can ever stand for very long. Her soul is
one of the lightest shades I’ve ever encountered, a light blue. Her hair is
long and red and goes nicely with her pale green eyes.
Naturally, I call upon her to help me prepare Phoebus for dinner.
“What can I do for you, my Lord?” She asks as she enters my chamber.
“This is Phoebus,” I introduce, gesturing toward him. He’s sitting quietly in a
chair next to a mirror. “I’d like to have him fixed up for dinner. A haircut
and a change of clothing are in order.”
She smiles, “I’ll fix him right up.”
I watch her go to him and introduce herself. She has him face the mirror and
begins cutting.
“Is there any particular style you want?” She asks him. He shrugs, eyes on the
floor again.
“Egyptian.” I specify. I like their culture. “Make it straight and just above
the shoulders.”
She nods and begins chopping away at his rather long hair. It takes the better
part of an hour before she’s finished, and her work is excellent.
Phoebus doesn’t say anything, but he sees himself and smiles a little. It
pleases me.
“What about clothing?” Althea asks, “Anything specific?”
“A stola. Royal colors, please.”
She is confused, “But, that’s a woman’s garb…”
“I know. He will be playing the role of my wife soon.”
She gasps, “My Lord, that’s-!”
“I did not bring you here to question me; I brought you here to make Phoebus
presentable as a woman. You will do it.” My voice is firm and harsh.
She hesitates, but nods, “Yes, my Lord. As you wish. I shall be back with the
clothing you require.”
“Good. And, Althea, if word that he is male ever leaves this chamber, I will
have you hanged. Is that understood?”
She nods again, “Yes, my Lord.”
“Have you even asked him if he’s okay with this?” Horatious whispers harshly.
We stand outside my chamber, waiting for Althea to let us come in and see
Phoebus. “He hasn’t said anything against it.” I proclaim.
“Because you haven’t asked!” Horatious hisses, then sighs, “Why are you so set
on him anyway? He’s a street mongrel.”
I send him a glare for the mongrel comment. “If you must know, I like his
soul.”
“More Demon rules or something?” His voice drops again.
“Not exactly… His soul is white. I’ve never seen one like it before. I suppose
I’m naturally attracted to it, like humans are with each other.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Humans are naturally attracted to other humans with complementary-colored
souls. You can’t see them, but you can sense them in a way. The closer the
color is to complementing yours, the more attracted you are.” I explain.
He considers this, “So, this boy’s soul attracts you because it’s the opposite
of your own?”
“In a way. I don’t actually have a soul, so it could be that I’m attracted to
the fact that his would fill a certain void. I cannot explain exactly why…”
“But, still. He’s a male. If anyone were to find out-”
“No one will if you keep your mouth shut.” I growl, “Nothing you say is going
to make me back out of this. I always get what I want and I want him.”
He is going to argue again, I can tell, but Althea opens the door, “Alright,
he’s ready.”
We step inside, closing the door behind us. Phoebus is staring at his
reflection, twisting his body in different directions in order to look himself
over better.
Althea has done an excellent job. His stolla fits perfectly, tight in the
middle but loose around the hips and torso to give the appearance of curves.
Simple golden jewelry hangs from his neck and arms, clinking together when he
moves.
I walk up behind him and smile at him in the mirror, “Do you like it?”
He turns to me and nods, giving me a shy smile. I am immensely pleased, “That’s
wonderful, carus meus.” I reach out and gently run my hand through his now
shorter hair, making his face turn pink. “Leave us.” I command the two behind
us.
Althea parts immediately, but Horatious hesitates, “My Lord-”
“I said leave us.”
He pauses, but takes his leave.
I guide Phoebus to the bed and we sit down side-by-side. He looks at me
expectantly, two large blue eyes focused solely on me.
I love it.
“Phoebus,” I speak gently, “You like me, don’t you?”
He nods, blushing.
“You’d like to stay with me, wouldn’t you?”
Another nod.
“I would very much like it if you stayed with me. But, you see, you’re a boy,
and some people wouldn’t like that.”
He is obviously hurt at my words, so I quickly continue, “I want you with me
though, even if you’re a boy. I prefer boys anyway. But, Horatious doesn’t want
the public to know of my exclusive preferences, so I’ve come up with an idea.
Would you like to hear it?”
He nods, a little quicker than what he had been, and I know I have him in the
palm of my hand.
“You’re so beautiful, Phoebus,” I say, making his face turn pink again, “I know
that you could easily be mistaken for a female, so perhaps we could use that to
our advantage? Would you be willing to pretend to be a woman, for me?”
He tilts his head, confusion in his eyes.
“You see, if everyone thought you to be female, then they would have no
objections to us being together. Wouldn’t you like to be together without
anyone protesting it?”
“Yes…” He whispers.
“Good.” Lean closer, gently cupping his cheek, “Then will you be my wife?”
He gasps, his eyes widening, “Wife?”
“Yes. We would have our wedding within a short time.”
He thinks it over before slowly replying, “Yes, I’d like to be your wife…”
It is the most he’s spoken to me in one setting, and its music to my ears,
“Wonderful. It’s settled then. You shall be my wife, Phaedra.”
“Phaedra?”
“Yes. I am the only one who shall ever call you Phoebus. No one else should
know that that is your real name. You’re a woman to them, remember? You need a
female name.”
He slowly shakes his head, “Alright… I’ll be a woman for you…” He says slowly.
“That makes me very happy.” I reply truthfully. I gently pull his face forward,
“You make me very happy.”
He makes a cute noise when I kiss him and he doesn’t move, unsure of what to
do. It takes him several moments to hesitantly return the kiss.
It’s shy, timid, and a little awkward, but it’s easily the best kiss I’ve ever
had.
I have dinner brought to my chamber. Phoebus hasn’t eaten in some time, and I
know to monitor how much he eats to prevent him from overeating and becoming
sick or even dying.
I sit him down at a small table in the room and place a plate with small
portions of various foods in front of him. To me, it looks like a pathetic
little meal, but to Phoebus it must look like a feast.
“Here.” I whisper, handing him a knife, “Hold it like this.”
I teach him how to hold each of the utensils, tell him what each of the items
on his plate are, and explain proper dining etiquette as he eats.
I am pleased that he doesn’t jump into his first meal with reckless abandon,
but actually listens to what I say and begins practicing his manners
immediately. He takes the time to cut his food and lift it into his mouth,
chewing and swallowing before preparing another bite.
I smile as I too begin on my own meal.
After several minutes of quiet dining, and after I’m sure he’s tried
everything, I finally speak again, “Is there anything in particular that you
like more than the rest?”
He pauses and looks up at me, then back down at the plate. After a few seconds
he gestures toward a piece of shellfish.
I smile, “That’s shellfish.” I remind him, “Would you like more?”
“Yes, please.”
I add more to his plate from the bowl on the side.
“Thank you, my Lord.”
His words startle me. I quickly realize that he must have picked them up from
one of the others. “Don’t call me that. You should call me Damien.”
“Yes, Damien.”
“Much better.” I smile, “After dinner I will give you a short lesson on social
manners before introducing you to the Council as Phaedra, my fiancée.”
Althea comes back to my chamber before the meeting to add some paints to
Phoebus’ face to not only make him appear more feminine, but also to try and
hide the bruise under his eye and cuts on his forehead and cheek. The bruises
and cuts along his arm are hidden by his stola.
We leave once she is finished and I lead him to the meeting room. Inside are
the five members of the Council. “Gentlemen,” I announce, gaining their
attention. I put my hand on Phoebus’ shoulder and pull him closer, “This is my
new fiancée, Phaedra.”
I see Horatious give me a glare, but I pay it no mind. The rest of the Council
is all smiles and congratulatory words.
The youngest, Apollo, comes bouncing up to us with a smile on his face. “It’s
wonderful to meet you, Lady Phaedra. My name is Apollo.” He gives a little bow.
Phoebus hesitates, unsure of what to do, “Um, it’s nice to meet you too…”
I realize that in my lesson I completely forgot about the fact the he would
need to bow or curtsy as well. I never had to, so it had slipped my mind.
Apollo grinned, “Not used to this sort of place, are you?”
“No… I’m from the village…” Phoebus explains.
“Ah, that explains it then. See, when someone greets you, you should curtsy.”
Apollo instructs, “Like this.” He grabs his toga on each side and puts one foot
behind him, bending his other knee to drop slightly.
Phoebus follows his example.
“Good! You’re a natural.” He smiles and Phoebus returns it.
He irritates me, but I say nothing. A lot of people irritate me, I’ve learned
to let it go.
Other members introduce themselves one by one. Justinian, Horatious, Favious,
and Plato all take their turns exchanging greetings and asking questions.
Phoebus manages to take it all in very well, remembering his manners and
answering questions politely.
They all love him, of course.
“Where did you manage to find such a lovely young creature?” Favious asks.
“I met her when I was on my daily walk. We went to grab the same apple from a
shop cart, if you can believe something so cliché.” I lie.
He laughs, “How very wonderful. I hope you two find all the happiness in the
world together.”
“As do I.” I reply, smiling down at the pretty blond beside me.
He smiles in return, pure soul resonating brightly around him.
Our wedding is extravagant. We perform the ceremony outside in the gardens that
I know he has come to love. Althea fitted him in a pure white stola and silver
jewelry with turquoise gems. The cuts and bruises have finally healed and he’s
absolutely radiant.
All eyes are on him when we stand together, but his eyes are on me only. His
smile is breathtaking and his eyes are shining with joy.
I realize that I may actually be in love with this mortal. It’s a terrifying,
yet wonderful feeling.
Hours after the ceremony I carry him into our chamber. He lets out a little
laugh when I gently set him on his feet before shutting the door and clicking
the lock into place.
“You look beautiful in that garb, dulcis meus.” I say, stepping closer and
pulling him against me.
He blushes and buries his face in my neck. “Thank you.” He replies, barely
above a whisper. Though he’s been by my side for nearly a month now he is still
shy and soft spoken. It’s cute.
“But, perhaps you would look better without it?” I whisper in his ear.
I hear him gasp and he moves away enough to look up at me with wide, curious
eyes.
We have only ever seen each other in the bath and he has not shared a bed with
me. It’s obvious he’s a virgin.
“I’ll be gentle.” I whisper, squeezing his shoulders. The blush on his face
increases, but he nods, “Okay…”
He steps back enough for me to reach down and tug at the knots keeping his
clothing on. Within seconds the ties come loose and the stola hangs around him
loosely. He shrugs it off slowly and gasps when it suddenly falls to the floor
around his feet, leaving him bare. He wraps his arms around himself, looking at
the floor in embarrassment.
“You’re absolutely perfect, amor meus.” I assure, quickly removing my own toga.
I pull him against me, our bare bodies pressing together perfectly. I take his
lips with my own, an act which I have come to love. He tastes sweet and his
lips are softer than anything else I have ever touched. In fact, everything
about him is soft and sweet and absolutely perfect.
When we part he’s staring up at me with that painfully innocent expression, as
though he has no idea where this will lead.
I grin, “Perhaps I could bed you tonight, love?”
“Bed me?” He tilts his head cutely, “As in, sleep together?”
I chuckle, “Well, yes, but there’s much more to it than that, my sweet.”
“Like what?”
“You are absolutely wonderful, do you know that?” I smile down at him.
I gently lead him toward the bed and he happily complies. He climbs onto the
bed and lays down as I prepare the needed equipment. I can feel him watch me as
I set up a candle with a bowl held above it. I fill the bowl with oil before
lighting the candle and getting onto the bed myself.
“What’s that for?” He asks innocently.
“To warm the oil.” I explain, reaching over to run a hand up his smooth
stomach. He giggles slightly at the sensation and smiles, eyes full of
curiosity, “Why?”
“You’ll see, Phoebus.” I reply. I crawl on top of him and hover on all fours
above him.
His smile never wavers, “You called me Phoebus.”
“Of course, love, we’re alone now.”
“I like it when you call me Phoebus.” He whispers. He looks beautiful
underneath me; naked, hair splayed around his head, completely at my mercy.
“Good. Because I like to call you Phoebus.”
He giggles, “I’m glad.”
I smirk and press our lips together again. I feel his hand tangle in my hair,
encouraging me. I deepen the kiss and hear him whimper; it’s music to my ears.
I push my tongue into his mouth and he suddenly jolts and begins squirming. I
break the kiss and look down at him in mild annoyance, “Something wrong?”
“I, um…” He blushes and looks away, “I don’t know… If I like that… Oh! But, if
you like it, then I don’t mind.” He quickly corrects himself.
I scoff, “Nonsense. If you don’t enjoy it, then we won’t do it.”
“Okay…”
I slowly kiss down his jaw, neck and shoulder. He shudders at the sensation and
holds onto me. Each time I nip him he gasps and jumps just slightly. I continue
my teasing down his chest and to his stomach, where he begins giggling, “That
tickles!”
He’s so innocent it’s almost painful.
I go back up to his chest and take a nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly. He
immediately goes rigid after a quick gasp. I listen intently to the sounds he
makes as I use my tongue and teeth to play with the small nub. Eventually, I
move to the other to exact the same torture.
Once I am satisfied with my performance I sit up and stare down at my prey.
He’s breathing harder than normal and a blush covers his face, neck and chest.
His eyes hold only curiosity; he still has no clue what’s about to happen.
I feel my member throb painfully. I look between us where I’m resting between
his splayed legs. I am at full attention, but he isn’t even at half-mast.
That’s troublesome.
I kiss him again and begin running my hands all over his smooth skin. He
squirms a little, but does nothing to stop me. I break the kiss and begin
running my lips along his jaw. When I reach the base he twitches slightly so I
move toward his ear.
He whines when I lick the shell. I feel his body tremble and squirm against me.
I take the shell gently between my teeth and nibble. My entire groin throbs
when he lets out a loud moan. His legs twitch and his hips roll as I breathe
against him. I feel him shakily cling to me. I lick and suck at the lobe and
feel him buck slightly.
I smirk.
He’s hard now too.
“Does it feel good?” I breathe against his ear.
“Y-yes.” He whimpers, squeezing my shoulders.
Another throb alerts me to the fact that I can’t hold myself back much longer.
I reach down between us and take our members into one hand, stroking slowly. He
whines and whimpers, shakily bucking into the touch.
I release us. I kiss his jaw again then move to his neck, where I press my
mouth and teeth against every inch of flesh I can reach. He’s more vocal now,
openly moaning at each sensation. I suck harshly at his collarbone before
making my way lower, slowly running my hands up and down his sides.
When I reach his stomach again he does not giggle. He’s panting instead and
arches into my touches. My hands reach under him and gently squeeze his plump
bottom, eliciting a little whine from him.
His legs are wide open for me and I take full advantage. His noises increase in
volume as I nip and suck on the inside of his thighs. By the time I cease my
torture he’s panting harshly, his hands clenched in the sheets. I smirk and
level my face with his member.
It’s on the small side and rather pink. I lick the tip and he gasps, twitching
slightly. I lightly run the tip of my tongue along his length and am pleased
when he moans the entire time.
“Does that feel good?” I ask, pausing in my play.
“Y-yes.” He whimpers, trembling.
I don’t give him any warning before taking his entire length into my mouth and
sucking harshly. He nearly screams and his hands bury themselves in my hair. I
bob my head and suck, rubbing my tongue against the underside of his length. I
reach down and grip myself, slowly stroking as I listen to his loud moans and
half-words. It doesn’t take long before I can feel him tensing and his breath
hitching. I release him before he can finish, however, and enjoy the little
whine of disapproval.
I stare down at him. He’s completely flushed, his eyes dark, and he’s covered
in little red marks.
He’s all mine.
“That felt good, didn’t it?” I ask, though it’s more of a statement.
“Yes…” He pants, nodding slightly.
I smirk, “Good. It’s going to get even better.”
“How?” He’s genuinely confused.
Sweet, delicate little virgin.
“You’ll see.” I stretch and dip my fingers into the oil. It’s warm now.
He watches me carefully as I move my hand between his legs, fingers slick with
oil.
“Now, relax.” I instruct, lightly prodding his entrance. I gently push one
inside and he gasps and tenses on instinct before forcing himself to relax. I
immediately began rubbing at that bundle of nerves inside him and he becomes
much more accepting of the intrusion. His legs quiver at my touch and I quickly
slip in a second digit. He makes a louder protest this time.
“It hurts…” He grunts, trying to move away.
“Sshh…” I soothe, rubbing his stomach with my other hand, “You’ll adjust. Just
relax. It’ll get better.”
He whines but ceases his protests, lying still. I rub at the tight ring of
muscles just inside of him, willing them to relax and loosen. I insert a third
finger some time later and he grunts and clenches slightly, but says nothing. I
splay them inside him and rub at his sweet spot, attempting to get him to
adjust a little faster.
My member is becoming increasingly pained and I can longer hold myself back.
I remove my fingers from him and dip them back into the oil. He watches me as I
coat my member in it and his eyes widen, “You’re not going to put that in me,
are you?” The way he says it with such naïve innocence makes my groin pulse.
“Of course. That’s the whole point.”
He sits up and scoots away a bit, “I don’t think it will fit… It’ll hurt.”
I wipe my hand with a rag from the table before gently grabbing his hips and
pulling him back underneath me. “Just relax,” I soothe, “I promise I’ll be
gentle. It’ll only hurt for short time, I swear it, then it will be amazing.
You have my word.”
He looks up at me apprehensively, but doesn’t argue any further.
I position myself and let out a small groan as I gently slide in. It's been
awhile since I've done this with anyone.
He hisses and tries to move away, obviously pained by the intrusion.
“Sorry, amor mei.” I apologize, pausing in my advance.
He whimpers and lets out a shaky breath, reaching down to grip my wrists
tightly. Eventually, his face relaxes slightly, so I decide to continue. I
squeeze his hips gently as I slowly move further in, watching his face
carefully.
“It hurts...” He utters, hands gripping my wrists tightly.
“I know, my love. Just relax, it will ease.”
He whimpers, but falls silent, taking the rest of me with no complaint.
I pause once I'm fully inside. It's an amazing sensation. He is tight and hot
and I can feel each twitch and every breath. I can barely stand holding still.
I feel him slowly relaxing and decide to move again. He makes an odd noise
somewhere between a squeal and a gasp when I pull out, then groans when I
gently push back in. “Are you alright, carus meus?” I ask as I gently thrust.
He is trembling, but nods. I move the slightest bit faster, attempting to
rotate my hips in what I hope to be a pleasurable manner. I am immensely
pleased when he lets out a little moan, opening his legs just the slightest bit
wider.
The sight makes a shudder run up my spine. I'm not sure I've ever been turned
on by anyone this much. He's intoxicating, breathtaking. I can see his
beautifully white soul resonating around him and the sudden realization that
I'm inside such a pure, perfect creature is enough to make me groan loudly. He
responds with his own little squeaky noise and bucks slightly, clearly enjoying
himself much more now.
“Phoebus...” I whisper, quickening my pace. He whimpers and releases my wrists,
hands going up to grip the pillow on either side of his head instead.
I watch him in awe. His hands cannot seem to find a comfortable position; they
grip and tug at the pillow then go down to pull the sheets in a tight grip next
to his hips then they suddenly begin tearing at the covers by his shoulders,
before the cycle starts over again. He begins to pant and his eyes squeeze
shut, his head slowly tossing itself from side to side in bliss. He continues
to lose control of himself right before my eyes, and it's easily the most
wonderful, beautiful, amazing, perfect fucking thing I've ever seen. His
whimpering and moaning and muttering little words under his breath that I can
barely hear. He's shaking in my grip so I squeeze a little harder to keep him
still as I continue to increase the speed and strength behind each thrust.
“Damien, please.” He suddenly groans loudly, whole body arching.
I lose myself.
I'm suddenly pressed close against him, teeth gently gripping his shoulder,
while his arms are locked around me in a vice-grip, vocalizations loud in my
ear as he reveals in the pleasure of my now wild thrusting. I feel his hand
grip my hair tightly and tug. I release his shoulder and press my mouth messily
on his. He whimpers and I'm surprised to feel his tongue prodding my lips. I
open my mouth and quickly slide my tongue out, exploring his mouth further. He
groans loudly and I feel him shudder in pleasure. Our tongues dance and it's
not long before I can feel him slowly going rigid.
I break the kiss and set up slightly to look down at him, transfixed. A fire
runs through my body as I watch him arch sharply and tense up before screaming
my name as he finally hits the peak of pure pleasure. My eyes are glued to him
as he twitches a few times before going completely limp, heaving breaths
rocking his entire body. He opens his eyes and looks up at me, tired blue orbs
holding nothing but adoration.
It's too much.
I begin to mumble loudly in Latin as I bury my face in his neck, his arms
coming up to wrap around me as I give a few final sharp thrusts and shudder as
I empty myself inside him.
Once I finally come down from my incredible high, I too fall limp.
He grunts as my full weight collapses on top of him, but doesn't push me off.
Instead, he holds me tight, breathing deeply. I quickly muster enough strength
to push myself up and off of him. He jerks when my member slides out, but
smiles when I lay down next to him and immediately lays his head on my chest,
curling his whole body against my side.
There's a blissful silence that I have, oddly enough, never experienced before.
It's calm, peaceful. I like it.
I feel him gently tracing the tattoo on my chest that he has never asked about,
as though he simply accepts it as a part of me.
That would be a very intelligent thought, since it is part of me.
I hold him against me with one arm, the other laying across my abdomen to rest
my hand on his hip. I turn my head slightly to breathe his scent.
“Damien?” I hear him whisper.
“Yes, amatus meus?”
“I love you.”
His words make my heart flutter in a way I’d never felt before. I lift my hand
and gently grip the one tracing my tattoo, easily lifting it to my lips and
placing a soft kiss across thin fingers. “I love you too.” I whisper in return.
He smiles at me, bright, joyous, perfect, and I give him one in return.
We lay in silence and eventually I realize that he has fallen asleep. With just
a thought, a gently breeze blows through the room, extinguishing the candle on
the table. With a quick flick of a wrist, the blankets slide themselves over
us. I pull my darling Phoebus closer and relax, allowing myself to join him in
sleep.
With each passing day, Phoebus seems to come more and more out of his shell. As
Phaedra, he gains respect and learns to use it. She truly becomes a woman fit
for a Lord such as myself. She is kind and loving and knows her place while
also knowing when she can put her foot down on a matter. She is beautiful,
flawless. Her voice is like an angel and her laughter could make even the most
hardened man weep with joy. Her garbs are the most expensive money can buy and
only the rarest gems are embedded in the gold adorning her shimmering skin. Her
smile lights the room and simply her presence can make a bad day so much
better. Men covet her and women envy her.
She is perfect.
He is perfect.
His eyes shimmer like sky-blue diamonds and his skin is smooth and soft and his
golden hair shines brighter than the sun itself and is soft as silk and his
adorable nose is dotted with three light-brown freckles that only add to his
perfection.
Everyone else may think they're getting a real treat each time she enters the
room, but the truth is that I am the one who is gaining a real treasure each
time I take him into our chamber.
It is I who gets to strip him of those expensive clothes and jewels. I who gets
to look upon that perfect skin in its entirety, those shimmering eyes on me the
whole time. I who gets to wrap myself around him, bury myself in him, and
listen to that angelic voice reach it's highest peaks with my name on his
supple lips as I claim him. I who gets to watch as that shapely body twists and
contorts with pleasure, muscles twitching and spasming with release when that
pleasure becomes too much to handle. I who gets to hold such a precious
creature against me while he slumbers, beautiful face relaxed and content.
And eventually, I realize that for the first time in a long time, I, too, am
content. I am happy.
I am in love.
Two season's pass this way. My days are just as mundane as ever, but, somehow,
with Phoebus by my side, they are easily the best days of my incredibly long,
dull, life.
Until, one night, in the winter, my brother comes to me.
I see him land on the window in his usual form; a raven. His black eyes focus
on me and I sit up, carefully slipping myself away from my lover, who is sound
asleep after our usual night's activities.
I clothe myself and walk quietly out to the garden where he is meeting me. It
is late; no one is out.
“What do you want?” I ask him, taking a seat on one of the benches.
He caws loudly and I frown, “I refuse to speak to you in such a form or
language. Be civilized for Hell's sake.”
He makes a chatter like a laugh and in a puff of black smoke I'm staring at my
second brother, Luthicious. His long red hair is tied up behind his head. He's
missing a shirt and is wearing only some cloth around his waist, feet bare as
well. He grins at me, dark eyes shining, “Hello, dearest brother. It's been
some time.”
“Quite. Looking just as barbaric as usual, I see.”
He lets out a hearty laugh, which I hate, “And you're just as prudish as ever!
Tell me, do you still let that nasty temper of yours get the better of you?”
“You'll find out if you don't tell me why you've decided to pay a visit after
400 years.”
“Well, to see you're little city, of course! Sister Lillith said you'd made a
real grand civilization here.”
“It is most impressive, thank you. Have a look around, then get the hell out. I
don't need you breaking my toys like you like to do.”
He laughs again, it makes my blood boil, “Indeed, I do enjoy pissing you off,
after all! But, that's not why I'm here.”
“Don't test me.” I spit, growing irritated at his jesting. His games piss me
off more than anything.
“Oh calm down. Big brother Darius said you'd found someone interesting.”
“I have a partner now, what of it?”
Another nerve-sizzling laugh, “Partner? Is that what you're calling him? How
amusing!”
“I think it's time you left.”
“Oh, come now, my dear brother. I think you and I both know why I'm here.”
I know exactly why he's here, but that doesn't mean I want to have this
conversation. In fact, I didn't want this to be brought up at all. “Leave.” I
growl dangerously. Mortals would have taken off by now, but, of course, this
does not even phase him.
“It's true then? He has it? The white soul?”
“I don't see how that's any of your business.”
“What?” He snorts and throws his arms out, “Of course it's my business! You
know how rare white souls are!”
“There's only one within every several billion, I'm aware.”
“Right, and they're a bitch to find! You've made an incredible discovery;
father will be most pleased!”
I snarl, “I don't give a fuck how Lucifer feels about anything I do! I want
nothing more than to enjoy my life by my rules!”
“Yes, you were always the little rebel... But, now you can make amends!”
“Luthicious!” I yell, standing, “You thickheaded nimrod! Do you not understand
how much I don't fucking care about you or Lucifer or any of the others in that
God-forsaken wasteland?!”
He pauses, seemingly offended, but I know it to be just a ploy, “Brother, how
can you say such things?”
“Just leave.”
“Brother!” He calls, grinning, eyes bright, arms thrown wide, “We can use him
to open the gates of Heaven! We could rule it! Would that not be wonderful,
brother? A world in which we rule! No Heaven or angels to defend this planet!”
“That sounds dreadfully boring.” I droll with a roll of my eyes.
“What?” He gasps, taken aback.
“Boring. Like a game in which you can only win. There's no challenge or end
goal because essentially you've already beaten it, you're only playing around
until you reach the end. I couldn't stand such a thing. Such an uninteresting
little planet.”
“But...” He seems unable to comprehend such a thing. Not a surprise, he's not
the brightest among us, “But you love war and death and destruction, how can
you not want this? A brawl with Heaven and then with the Earth?”
I shake my head slowly, eyes never leaving him, “You are truly a fool. I do not
love those things. I love watching humans do those things. I love watching
them; the way they'll look for any reason to tear into each other, the way they
fight meaningless fights for the sake of bloodshed. I love not knowing who will
win their petty wars. I love the animals they become when given the
opportunity. That is what I love. A war between just us and the humans would be
far too one-sided for my tastes. Where's the drama, the suspense? There is
none. And, anyway, we both know a victory against Heaven is a task that would
be near impossible, which is why the war against humans would be one-sided.
Let’s face it, even if we won Heaven, humanity isn't going to go out without a
fight and our numbers would be harshly reduced. We would surely lose the second
war. And, really, even if we managed to win both, what then? Who could we
possibly torture next? Heaven and Earth gone, that would leave only Hell to
turn on itself and eventually lead to our own extinction. Opening the gates of
Heaven is a fool’s errand; even your precious father should know that.”
He is quiet for some time, likely trying to wrap his tiny brain around my
words. Eventually, he looks up at me, eyes begging, “What if you're wrong? We
could make this work I know it!”
“Truthfully? I don't know or care if I'm wrong or right. We won't get the
opportunity to find out. Only Lillith, Lucifer and I know how to utilize the
soul to open the gate. I doubt Lillith cares and I have no intention of harming
him or handing him over.”
His eyes narrow and he takes a step toward me, “Then you leave me no choice but
to take him from you.”
In an instant my eyes are burning red, anger finally flaring out, but I remain
collected, “I'd say you'd have to pry him from my cold dead fingers, but we
both know who the victor of this fight would be.”
I am the strongest of my siblings; the smartest too. They are all aware of
this. The only reason Lucifer allows me to roam freely is because he is aware
that I prefer to remain merely a spectator. I rarely step in to cause mayhem,
though when I do I can easily level a large city on my own.
I just choose not to.
He steps back, hands going up in defense, but eyes still full of anger, “You're
nothing but a rogue traitor. Father will hear of this.”
“Good. Go then. Go running to your oh-so-loving father and tell him your bully
of a brother won't let you have your deadly little toy. Be sure to work up some
fake tears, so he feels extra sorry for you.” My voice is practically dripping
with venom, “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a fucking city to run. Be gone,
and know that if I see you flying through here again, I will blast you out of
the fucking sky.”
He sends me a heated glare, the kind that would kill a mortal out of fear, but
it rolls off of me like nothing. Black smoke explodes around him and a raven
shoots out and heads straight up into the sky.
I watch Luthicious disappear on the horizon before heading back to my chamber
for much-needed sleep.
I do not hear from my brother again nor any of my other siblings. I can only
assume Lucifer warned them against bothering me. A smart move. I don't make
light on my threats. I've already murdered one brother; a lack of motivation is
the only thing preventing me from murdering others.
Phoebus and I only become closer. I love him completely and have absolutely no
intention of harming him in any way. Even my father couldn't convince me to
hurt him.
He's my world now, and I am his.
But, I know he has a lot of questions, most of which I don't want to answer. I
put them off, I avoid them, I give poor answers, anything to avoid the truth
about what I am. I don't want him to fear me. I want him to stay with me
forever.
I need to tell him though, I know that. Soon. I have the power to make him
immortal with me, but only with his consent, and I can't exactly get his
consent without revealing myself.
So, I need to come clean.
Horatious' untimely death makes me realize this even sooner. I'd die if Phoebus
was taken from me in such a similar way. With Justinian running around with
blood on his hands my time may be running out. As if that wasn't a big enough
problem, I fear Apollo may be onto me. He's been spreading rumors about my
possible inhumanness. I'd rather Phoebus hear the truth from me, not some
inaccurate rumors from anyone else.
I need to act fast.
After dealing with Horatious' funeral plans along with strategies to apprehend
Justinian, I retire to the garden. I spend several minutes picking out only the
most perfect flowers to go into an extravagant bouquet. I plan on presenting it
to Phoebus, then having a long discussion about my past and, hopefully, our
future.
I finish my bouquet and head to our room. I smile as I near, knowing he'll be
waiting. His beautiful face, perfect body, and radiant smile are enough to
brighten even my darkest days.
I push the door open and call out for him, “Phaedra?”
My eyes fall on my darling, but things are not right. He's lying on the floor
in a puddle of blood, his clothing soaked in it. Fear, terror, dread, and an
overwhelming horror hits me instantly. “PHOEBUS!” I yell, dropping the bouquet.
I run to him and collapse next to his crumpled form, gently picking him up,
“Phoebus, can you hear me?!”
He coughs, blood spilling forth, and I shush him, “It's alright...” My voice is
sickeningly weak, but I can't bring myself to care about that right now, “Don't
talk, save your strength, I'll get you help...”
“A-Ap-ollo.” He coughs, body shaking.
“Apollo did this to you?”
“An… Hor-at…” He's too weak to finish, but I know what he means. It’s part of
the bond we share.
I'm horrified at this. Apollo had been the one who killed my closest friend?
And, now, my treasured lover?
I trusted that little... The things I was going to do to him!
I push those thoughts aside for the moment and hold my love tightly, kissing
his face gently, “Phoebus… Phoebus, I love you so much…”
He whimpers softly. The sound tears at my heart.
“It’s not fair…” I feel tears forming, “You were supposed to stay with me… I
was going to keep you with me for eternity…” Soft sobs escape me as I rock him.
I was too late... Even I can't stop death. I screwed up and now I couldn't
spend eternity with the one person who mattered more to me than anyone else in
the world.
“Te amo… te amo…” I repeat, rocking him. It's all I can do. I can't save him
and I can't bring myself to put him out of his misery. So, I speak softly to
him, confess my love to him repeatedly as he slowly leaves me for good.
I continue to rock him long after I know he's passed. Blood dries and tears run
out before I stop. I sit silently for some time longer before a sudden,
overwhelming rage overtakes me, mingling with the crushing grief.
I scream.
It's loud, inhuman, completely demonic. The entire city can hear it, I'm
certain. I let the rage overtake me, burn away the grief and replace it with
raw hate.
Hate for Apollo, hate for people, hate for humanity.
They all deserved death.
I gather myself enough to carry Phoebus to the garden. I bury him in his most
favorite spot before saying my final goodbye to him, the garden, my palace, and
my city.
It has to go. All of it. I can't look at it anymore. I can't stand knowing it
exists.
I walk stiffly down my marbled hall, clothes covered in blood. The rage is
eating at my insides, which I'm certain is showing on the outside. I can feel
my thick horns protruding from my head and my eyes are surely glowing red. The
dark aura around me is thick enough for even humans to see.
I must look positively demonic.
Footsteps behind me make me take pause. I turn and come face to face with
Fabio. He's visibly shaken by my appearance, but he's not a cowardly man. He's
one of my most loyal followers, in fact, and one of the few humans I can call a
friend.
“My Lord.” He speaks, voice barely wavering, “I saw Apollo in the courtyard,
heading back to his room. We spoke earlier and he mentioned speaking to Lady
Phaedra in private, but when I spoke to him a moment ago he seemed shaken. I
think something may have happened-”
“I know.” My voice has taken its darker tone. “Fabio, get the fastest horse in
the stable and flee the city immediately. That's an order.”
“Yes, my Lord.” He bows and rushes off.
He was always kind to Phoebus and not just because he had to be. Letting him
live is more for my lover than anything. He would have wanted that.
I turn and use my powers to cross through the shadows at inhuman speeds. I
arrive in a moment outside Apollo's quarters. I can hear him packing hurriedly.
I knock the door off its hinges with just a thought. He yells and turns toward
me, horrified.
My hatred hits its peak. A let out a monstrous shriek and pounce.
He's under me before either of us can blink. He struggles for his life, but I
pin him by his neck. He claws at my arms, but I can't even feel it at this
point.
“YOU TOOK THE ONLY PERSON I EVER LOVED!” I scream, the dark aura around me
growing into black flames, “I'LL KILL YOU!” I squeeze his neck, reveling in the
feel of his panic. I'm sure my face has twisted into something less-than-
pleasant by this point, which only adds to his terror.
Good. I want him to fucking suffer.
I'm taken by slight surprise when something pierces my chest. I look down only
to find a large knife stick out of my ribs.
That only makes me angrier.
“IS THAT WHAT YOU DID TO HIM?!” I shriek, “IS THAT THE KNIFE YOU USED TO KILL
THE ONE PERSON THAT MATTERED TO ME?!”
He attempts to answer, but I push harder on his throat. My temper flares as I
feel his throat cracking under the pressure. I take one hand off and plunge my
claws into his chest, easily breaking past his ribcage. His face contorts in a
silent scream as tears form and blood spurts up from his mouth.
Suffer.
I yank my hand from his chest and rip open his stomach instead. I tear out
intestines, liver, kidneys, stomach, anything I can get my hand on. I move up
until I'm ripping out his lungs and, lastly, his heart. I do it all so quickly
that he feels every bit, not dying until seconds after his heart is out.
I hover above him, panting harshly.
Then, I laugh. It's a crazed laughter that no human could possibly muster. I'm
certain I've lost my mind.
I don't really care. It doesn't matter anyway.
The ground begins to shake as I stand. I make my way out and toward the edge of
my falling city. Walls crumble around me, floors crack, pillars collapse.
I'm barely holding myself together, my city stands no chance.
I stand far away and watch as the ground splits and swallows what's left of
Thistelys. My city, my crowning achievement. My love for it paled in comparison
to my love for Phoebus, however, and with him gone I can no longer stand to
even look at what was once my treasure. It didn't deserve to stand without him
gracing its impressive halls.
My city disappears in a matter of minutes, swallowing an unknown number of
people and homes with it.
Like I give a shit.
I simply stare at the blank ground for a long time before the flapping of wings
catches my attention. A raven lands next to me, prompting me to frown.
I don't want to deal with him right now.
Luthicious appears in a cloud of smoke, shit-eating grin in place, “Well, looks
like that whole 'keep him for eternity' thing didn't go so well.”
I'm on him in an instant. Tearing, breaking, ripping, clawing, shredding. Limbs
come off, organs are torn out, blood splatters all over the ground.
It was his own fault. He knows about my temper.
I leave my brother in a bloody heap on the ground. I don't know if he'll live
or not. I don't care.
I disappear in my own cloud of black smoke, deciding it's time to retire to
Hell for awhile to collect myself.
The other demons cower and run, as they should. I spend a good thousand or so
years causing as much trouble as I can for everyone. Even my father can't make
me cease. I rope the Horsemen into causing problems with me. Wars, plagues,
holocausts, genocides... All on me. I marvel in it.
Eventually, I go back to the surface, but my problem-causing doesn't cease. I
provoke fights, cause accidents, set fires, and just cause mayhem in general.
Watching the humans suffer and die pleases me to no end. I take joy in their
pain, though it does nothing to lessen my own.
Nothing will make the pain better, I know this, but it doesn't stop me from
making sure everyone else is suffering with me.
Misery loves company.
***** Eternity *****
Their hands were twined as they sat facing each other on the couch. Damien
squeezed Pip's hands gently, smiling softly at him.
“I'm sorry you had to go through all that.” Pip said remorsefully, staring
thoughtfully at their hands.
“It's okay.” Damien looked up at him, “As long as I have you now, it was worth
it.”
Pip chuckled, “I'm glad you think I'm worth so much.”
“I know you are.”
The words made Pip blush. He smiled brightly and giggled, unsure of what to say
to that. Damien was quite the charmer, that was for sure.
The dark haired male scooted closer, tossing an arm over the blonde's
shoulders. He pulled him close and kissed his temple, “I missed you so much,
amatus meus. Te amo.”
“Te amo.” Pip replied softly. It felt so strange to say, yet, at the same time,
comforting. Since the last dream, it was like he and Phoebus had become one. He
recalled all his dreams like hazy memories and he couldn't help feeling an
incredibly strong connection to Damien, even though they'd sort of just met.
Damien grinned at the reply and let go of Pip's hand to reach up and tip his
chin. He captured his lips in a soft kiss, which he was quick to deepen.
Phillip happily returned it.
They broke after several seconds and rested their foreheads together.
“So, how about it?” Damien asks after a moment, “Spend eternity with me?”
“How?” Pip questions in return, “I'm human. I'll only live about 80 years.”
“Not if you make a deal with me.” Damien persisted, “Sell me your soul in
exchange for immortality.”
“I don't... I don't know.” The blond hesitated, “That seems like a serious
step...” The selling of one's soul had always been portrayed as the ultimate
sin and one that would be completely unrecoverable from. Would it change him?
“No demon will challenge me, so it's perfectly safe, I promise.” He was
becoming desperate. “As long as I have ownership of it, you'll be fine. You
won't age and you won't die so long as I refuse to collect payment. You can
live with me, forever. Wouldn't you like that?”
“Yes, I would, but that still seems like a really dangerous thing to do... What
if it changes me?”
“It won't, I swear.” He grabbed his hand and squeezed, “It's safe, I swear to
you. I would never do anything that could hurt you. I love you more than
anything.”
“Well...” Pip bit his lip. He was still uncertain.
“Do you want to maybe just think about it a while?” He wanted an answer right
then, before something else happened that would separate them, but he
understood that this was a big decision for the other man. Selling a soul
wasn't something to take lightly.
The blond nodded, “Yeah, I need to sleep on it. It's a big decision.”
“Alright, I understand. I hope you understand that I'll be asking you everyday
until I get a yes.” He lifted the younger man's hand and placed a delicate kiss
on thin fingers.
Pip chuckled, smiling softly, “Yeah, I understand.” He had half a mind to just
sell it now, seeing as he was sure he'd cave eventually, but he wanted to hang
onto it a while longer. The thought of giving it up still seemed wrong, even if
it meant spending eternity with this man.
Damien kept his end of the bargain. Everyday for the next four days he asked
for rights to Pip's soul. Everyday Pip asked for more time to think. He was
having a hard time deciding if he wanted to let it go, or if it would be worth
it. Immortality sounded fun on the surface, but wouldn't it be awful to see
everyone he cared about die? To live without being able to make friends because
someone would notice him not aging and he'd have to live with the pain of them
dying as well? Wouldn't life become painfully boring after awhile?
He didn't voice these concerns to Damien. He was afraid the man would mock him
for it, say things like “Who needs friends?” and “Life isn't boring when you're
causing trouble.” He didn't like those answers.
It wasn't until the morning of the fifth day, after he'd sidestepped the
question and headed off to work, that he realized the answer.
He was walking along the sidewalk, mind in the clouds, when someone grabbed him
and yanked him backward. Before he could ask what was happening, a car smashed
into the building where he'd been walking and dragged several feet before
coming to a halt.
Pip stood, stunned, and stared wide-eyed.
“Are you alright?” A woman, presumably the one who'd yanked him from harm’s
way, asked him.
“Y-yeah.” He nodded.
She ran ahead to check on the driver. Once he regained feeling in his legs, he
followed.
The driver was drunk, but fine otherwise.
As they stood with him waiting on the police, he couldn't help but think over
what had just transpired. He had nearly died. If that woman hadn't yanked him
away, he would have been hit dead on and surely killed.
He would have left this world and Damien, for a second time.
After giving his statement to the police he continued to work. He needed a bit
of normalcy to calm himself after the ordeal. That, and he didn't want to go
home because Damien would ask why he hadn't gone to work and he certainly
didn't want to tell him about this. He'd lose it for sure.
He arrived late but explained what happened to Wayne, who was visibly upset
about it as well. He allowed him to leave work an hour early, which was
probably for the best. Pip never did stop shaking and it was affecting his
performance.
At home he wasn't too surprised to find Damien watching game shows with a
frown. He was incredibly good at Jeopardy, but this was Wheel of Fortune, which
he was utterly terrible at. He looked over the couch when the blond walked in.
“Afternoon, love. You're home early.”
“Yeah, not feeling well.”
“Oh, dear.” He frowned and stood, “Should you lie down?” He walked around the
couch and grabbed his hand, looking at him worriedly.
“No, no.” Pip shook his head, “I just want to sit with you awhile.”
“Alright.” He led him around the couch and pulled him down onto his lap, “I
missed you.” He kissed his cheek.
“I missed you too.” He made himself comfortable and hugged him tightly.
“You alright?” Damien wrapped his arms around Pip's thin form, “You're
shaking.”
“I just... had a rough day.”
“Was someone rude to you? Did someone hurt you?!” Damien let out a soft growl.
Pip could sense the other man's rise in anger and it made him laugh, “No,
nothing' like that.” It was adorable how protective Damien was.
“Then what?”
“I'll tell you later.” After he'd sold his soul so Damien couldn't get panicky
about it, “I've been thinking about your question all day though.”
“And?” He looked hopeful.
“And...” He hesitated a moment. Was this really okay?
Did it really matter?
“Yes. I want to sell my soul in exchange for immortality. I want to be with you
forever.”
Damien brightened significantly. He grabbed Pip's face and held it close,
“Really? You mean that?”
“Yes.” He attempted to nod, “I love you so much. I don't want to die and leave
you. I can't do that to you a second time.”
“I love you too, carus meus, so much.” He crushed their lips together, putting
all his emotions behind it. It was such a huge relief. Together with his love
for eternity. No more loneliness, no more pain, no more sadness, no more hate.
Just the two of them.
Pip broke the kiss and smiled, “I love you too. How does this work? Will it
hurt? Do you have to take it out, or?”
Damien laughed, “No, nothing like that. It's already done.”
“Really?!” He looked down at himself. He didn't feel any different.
“I don't actually take your soul, I just get rights to it. If I never collect
it, you can't die.”
“Nifty.” The blond chirped, smiling at him.
“Very.” The demon laced their fingers together, “How long do you want to stick
around here before you take me up on my other offer?”
“Other offer?”
A smile tugged at Damien's lips. That accent was certainly a nice addition.
“Traveling.”
“Oh! Well, I have to at least put in my two weeks at the dinner, but... maybe a
month more here, at most?” Traveling sounded amazing. The sooner, the better.
He knew he had eternity now, but he still felt so pressed for time. Maybe that
feeling would never leave.
“Sounds good to me. We should sell as much of your stuff as we can, keep what
you can't live without, and throw away everything else.”
“Okay.” He nodded. He'd need to set up a yard sale soon then. It would be tough
to part with some things, but what did material items really matter anyway?
Damien sighed and hugged him tightly, “I'm so happy you've chosen me. I
couldn't take losing you again. I love you so much.”
“Same. I love you too.” Pip hugged him tightly in return. “I just hope you
don't get tired of me.”
“Not for an eternity, my love.”
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