Wow, that took way longer than it should have. I apologize... But, it's here now! Enjoy. :)

The End

Damien woke up at least an hour before Pip. He refused to look at the clock. Instead, he watched Pip's steady breathing, examined his flawless face and gently ran his fingers through soft, golden locks.

He knew they didn't have much longer.

He heard Pip take a deep breath. The young Brit stretched and laid his arm over Damien's chest, nuzzling his shoulder, "G'Mornin' Love." He murmured.

"Morning."

"Time is it?"

Damien finally turned and looked at the clock.

"10:23."

They had until one o'clock, the thirteenth hour of the day, before it would all come to a sudden and violent end.

"Time ta get up then." Pip sighed, pushing himself up. He smiled sleepily down at Damien, "Happy Birthday, Love."

Damien gave a monotone "Thanks."

He hated today.

Pip leaned down and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss. Damien reached up and pulled his body back down, embracing him. The blonde giggled when they parted, "My, my, aren't you in a mood today?"

Damien said nothing, gazing at the lovely boy in his arms and gently rubbing his thumb across two pink lips.

Pip's face suddenly grew troubled, "Wha's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how much you mean to me."

Pip smiled and nuzzled the hand that was gently cupping his face, "You're so sweet, Damien." He pulled away after that and climbed out of bed, naked aside from an oversized black t-shirt, which was long enough to conceal his lower regions, but was so large in the neck that it slightly exposed on shoulder. Pip looked at him, "Shall I make us breakfast?"

"Sure."

The blonde cast another smile and strolled leisurely out of the room.

Damien stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, unwilling to face reality. Eventually, he realized that he was just wasting time that he could be spending with the one person who meant anything to him and climbed out of bed. He was in his boxers only, but he felt no need to put on anything else.

He walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen, where Pip was standing in front of the stove, humming and cooking. Damien walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder and looking at the stove.

"Pancakes, huh?"

"You're favorite." Pip responded with a smile.

Damien hummed in response, burying his face in blonde hair and breathing deeply.

"Are you sure you're uhlright?" Pip asked as he flipped a pancake.

"'M f'ne." Damien mumbled into Pip's hair, making the blonde giggle.

"Would you like to shower togefah, or separately?" Pip asked as he cleaned up the small kitchen.

"As if you even have to ask." Damien said with a smirk.

"You're right. Showerin' togefah saves on the watah bill." Pip said with a smirk of his own. He walked past Damien towards the bathroom, but was caught and pulled into the Satanist's lap. He giggled as Damien placed kisses on his shoulders.

Damien looked up at him with a soft expression. Pip smiled and leaned down, pressing their lips together. When they parted Damien licked his lips, "You taste like syrup."

"I do? I wunduh why…" Pip said in false confusion. Damien looked his face over and gently ran a hand up and down a bare leg. Pip stared back at him, seemingly equally as transfixed.

"I love you." Damien said suddenly.

Pip smiled, "I love you too."

Their lips sealed together again in a kiss. Damien wrapped his arms around a thin waist and tried to pull them closer, but Pip pulled away instead. He shifted himself until he was straddling Damien then moved closer, never breaking their kiss.

Damien became very aware of the fact that Pip had not put on underwear that morning. He gripped Pip's ass tightly with both hands, then moved one and gently prodded Pip's hole, drawing a moan from the blonde.

Pip broke the kiss, panting harshly, "Back scuttle in the showuh." He said simply, climbing off and hurrying out of the kitchen.

Damien jumped up and ran to the bathroom, quickly figuring out what "back scuttle" meant.

Pip was already undressed and waiting for the water to heat up when he walked in. He shut the door and tossed his boxers off before pressing their bodies close together, lips meeting again.

Time seemed to flash by. They were soon standing in the shower; wet bodies pressed heatedly together as Damien held one of Pip's legs and roughly stretched him with the other hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he had Pip pressed against the tiled wall, feet off the floor, and legs over his shoulders as he slowly thrust into a tight heat. Pip was panting his name and bucking into the thrusts as best he could.

Damien smirked as he heard only his name and not even a faint trace of "God" slip from Pip's sensual lips. He'd taught him well.

Then they were falling over the edge together, Pip arching his back and emptying on their stomachs while Damien erupted deep inside his lover.

Once it all calmed down they cleaned themselves off before getting out.

"Are we going to see your parents today?" Pip asked as he slipped on some real clothing in their bedroom.

"Yeah…" Damien said, remembering what today was, his mood plummeting. He checked the clock.

12:34.

"Today sure is a nice day." Pip observed as they walked up the porch to the house.

Damien despised this fact. He quietly unlocked the door and let Pip inside before him.

"Whut's goin' on?" Pip asked when he saw Damien's parents sitting on the couch together, Carol sobbing while Mike held her. Mike looked up at them, face dark, "Haven't you told him?"

"Told me whut?" Pip asked, turning to Damien, "Is somefin' wrong?"

Damien glared at Mike before turning his attention to Pip, who was looking up at him with confusion.

What should he do? Keep him in the dark until he absolutely couldn't any longer? Tell him the truth? What about Pip's soul? Was it tainted because of him? Could he save it?

Every instinct in his selfish body told him to lie, to keep Pip in the dark so he wouldn't hate him. He knew what he had to do, however.

He wanted Pip's soul to make it into Heaven, but it couldn't as long as he still loved Damien.

Damien had to hurt him to save him.

"I lied." Damien said matter-of-factly, face blank, "I don't love you. I used you."

Pip gasped, eyes wide and unbelieving. He stood stiffly, then slowly shook his head, "No. You nevuh lie to me. You love me. I know you do."

"I lied." Damien hissed, moving forward. Pip whimpered and began backing up.

"I used you for my own pleasure. That's what I do."

"Why?" Pip whimpered. He gasped when his back hit the wall.

Damien growled and slammed his fists on either side of Pip's head, "Because, I'm the Anti-Christ. I like to play with people, to fuck up their lives."

"Why me?" Pip asked, voice wavering and growing weak, tears gathering in his wide, terrified, beautiful blue eyes.

It tore at Damien's chest.

"Because you were so fucking pure and innocent and completely devoted to your shitty God." Damien growled, voice low, "I wanted to tear you away from him, to use you and taint you then throw you away because I fucking hated how pure you were."

Pip began crying then and slid down the wall until he was on the floor, where he buried his face in his knees.

"The world is ending now, Pip. It's ending because it's my eighteenth birthday." Damien spoke, voice lighter, barely on the brink of breaking down with the weight of what he'd just done, "If you want to make it into Heaven, I suggest you beg your God for forgiveness." Though it sounded cruel, he hadn't really meant it that way. If Pip asked for forgiveness, then God would let him in.

Damien backed away, an emotion he hadn't felt before welling up inside him.

Guilt? Remorse? Self-hate? He wasn't sure.

He turned away from Pip and looked at the couch, where both his parents were sitting, looking over the back of it at him with odd expressions.

Damien felt something wet slip down his cheek and he realized he was crying.

How weak.

He quickly wiped at his eyes as he turned and ran out the door and into the street, where the sky was growing dark and the clouds began to glow red. The wind picked up, howling along the streets.

The ground began to rumble. It was light at first, almost unnoticeable, but was quickly growing in intensity.

Damien finally stopped running. A loud noise drew his attention and he looked toward the town. Buildings collapsing, fires starting, people running, screams filling the air.

He closed his eyes tightly, tears still flowing forth at a slow rate, and covered his ears, trying to block out the inevitable.

It wasn't fair. What had he done to deserve this fate? Why him? He'd lived a hard life, didn't he deserve better? All those people who'd hated him, just because he had a bit of a mean streak. All those priests who'd tried to kill him, just because he was the son of Satan. It wasn't his fault he was born this way. Yet they'd persisted. Every town they moved to, if the priests found out about him, they'd go after him, all to save their own skins really, because if he died then this wouldn't be happening.

Wait.

Realization hit Damien like a ton of bricks.

If any of those priests had succeeded in ending his life, the world would not be coming to an end. He needed to live so that the world would die.

So… If he died, the world would live.

Was it too late?

Only one way to find out.

Damien opened his eyes and took his hands off his ears, looking around. The ground was splitting in many places, taking down homes and people and businesses.

He hoped Pip was still okay.

He looked down at his hand, focusing harder than normal. He used pieces from the ground to create a new object. A large knife, about ten inches long and two inches wide, the hilt was black and made of a material that he could easily grip and would not slip from his grasp. It was double-edged and incredibly sharp.

His heart raced.

Could he do this?

He squeezed his eyes shut again and an image of Pip flashed in front of them. He shook his head and opened his eyes, head clearer than before.

He knew what he had to do.

Taking a deep breath, he positioned the knife over his chest, one hand gripping it tightly, the other resting on the end.

He looked up at the sky and glared, "I'm about to do you a huge favor, asshole. The least you could do is let Pip into Heaven for me." With that, he plunged the knife into his chest.

Pain erupted throughout his body, but he couldn't scream. His mouth hung open, air forcing its way out along with droplets of blood. Time seemed to slow down and his hearing became muffled. His legs grew weak and he dropped to his knees on the concrete. He coughed, causing more pain, and blood splattered the side walk below him. His vision became blurry and he felt heavy. He became aware of the fact that he was leaning to one side, probably about to fall, but he was too numb to care.

He thought he heard someone yelling his name, a woman perhaps, but then the ground was rushing at him and his vision went black.

Damien's body felt stiff and heavy, as though he hadn't moved in a very long time. He cracked his eyes, unable to remember where he was.

He saw white.

He blinked and opened them further.

A white ceiling.

Things began coming back.

Was he dead? Was this Heaven, or a cruel, Hellish joke?

It was dark in the room, but light from a small light on a counter helped fight the darkness. He noticed a window next to him. It was dark outside, but some light streamed in from a street light. He was lying on his back in some sort of bed, the sheets pulled up to his arm pits and his arms at his sides over them. The bed was less than comfortable.

A hospital?

He became aware of the heart monitor. Next to it was two IV bags, one with what he guessed was water and the other with some sort of yellow fluid. He traced the IV lines with his eyes and found that both were stuck in his arm.

He fell incredibly still, looking at them with wide eyes.

There were two needles. In his arm.

In. His. Arm.

"…FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKINGFUCK!" He yelled suddenly, sitting up and grabbing the two lines, yanking them from his arm. He rubbed at the spot on his arm, spouting curses the whole time.

He hated needles.

"Godfuckingdammit!" He yelled, "I am in Hell!" He pulled the arm against his chest, holding it as though it was severely injured.

"Damien?" A small voice broke through the darkness. He looked down beside him, his dark eyes meeting two beautiful blue irises.

"Pipsqueak?" Damien whispered.

The blonde smiled tiredly, pulling himself onto the bed and leaning against the Anti-Christ, "I wus afraid you'd nevuh wake up." He murmured, voice slurred with sleep.

Damien put his arm around slender shoulders, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be 'ere if you woke up… They gave me a cot to sleep on 'cuz I wouldn't leave…" Pip replied, eyes slipping shut as he rested his head on Damien.

A sudden pain in his chest made Damien remember what had put him here in the first place. He laid back down, pulling Pip down with him. He felt the blonde gently nuzzle his chest and kiss the bandages.

"So… The world didn't end?" Damien asked, a little afraid of the answer.

"Everyfin' stopped when your 'art stopped." Pip said, looking up at him, voice lacking the slur it did earlier, "You died on the way to the hospital."

Damien was surprised at this.

His heart stopped? He died? He hadn't remembered dying…

There had been no white light, no fire, no nothing.

"How long was I…?"

"Two minutes. Then you're 'art started beatin' again."

Damien ran his hands through Pip's hair and stared at the ceiling, dazed.

He'd done it. He'd stopped the end of the world.

He suddenly remembered the events before he'd stabbed himself. He looked back down at Pip, "Why are you here? I said awful things to you."

Pip gave him another smile, "Carol 'ad plenty of time to explain a few fings to me while you wuh asleep."

"What? How long was I out?"

"Free days."

Three whole days?

"You were in critical condition when you got 'ere." Pip continued, "The doctuh fought you'd die in your sleep wifin a day or two, but then you got bettuh really quickly."

"Yeah, I have a tendency to do that…" Damien mumbled, gazing down at the beautiful boy next to him, "What did Carol tell you?"

"Tha' you were cryin' when you lef' me, and tha' you stabbed yourself. She's the one who saw you and called for 'elp."

Damien realized that the voice he'd heard calling his name before he passed out must have been her.

"She said tha' you're a selfish prick and 'ad never treated anyone as nicely as you'd treated me." Pip said, nuzzling Damien's shoulder and whispering, "She said you'd been lookin' forward to tha' day since wuh little, and tha' I wuz the only reason you stopped it."

Damien was at a loss for words. Was Carol really that attentive to details?

He needed to thank her later. For everything.

"Damien?" Pip murmured, drawing his attention.

"Yes, Pipsqueak?"

"Why did you say those fings?"

"Pip… I'm the Anti-Christ. I'm damned no matter what, but I didn't want to take you down with me. I thought if I could get you to hate me and ask God for forgiveness, then you'd make it into Heaven."

"Do you 'ave any idea 'ow much tha' 'urt?" Pip snapped, pushing himself up so he was hovering over Damien and glaring at him, "I fought we wuh in love, then you turn around and say you used me!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No! It 'urt worse than anyfin' I've eva felt before! I wanted ta die!" Pip sniffled and rubbed his eyes, tears welling up in them, "If you eva pull some stupid shit like this again… I'll stop talkin' to you, I swear…"

Damien sat up slightly, "I didn't mean a single word of it… I was trying to save you."

"Baboon…" Pip whimpered, sniffling again, "Then, to top it all off, I fought you wuh gonna die… This is the worst week eva… I want a do-ova…"

Damien couldn't help a small chuckle, "I'll do my best to make next week the best week over, okay?"

Pip still had a pouty look on his face, "Promise?"

"I promise."

Pip finally smiled, "Good… I love you."

"I love you too." Damien said with a rare smile.

They shared a silent moment, simply enjoying each other's presence and gazing into each other's eyes, when suddenly Pip began laughing.

"What?" Damien asked, genuinely confused.

"The Anti-Christ is afraid of needles!"

Damien's face went red in embarrassment, "Shut up!"

Yup, that's the end. I hope you enjoyed! :D