A match made in hell (SP//Dip)

An envelope..?

i know it's been almost a year but im finally doing this

Phillip's POV
This year for our anniversary I decided to do something really special. I wanted to wow Damien. And most importantly I wanted him to love it as much as me. I wanted to surprise him though. So I waited until he was busy.

For weeks, months even, I had been planning this surprise. It was the perfect plan, and idea, in theory. However, in practice it was probably a lot harder and more difficult to pull off. But I was determined, and since Damien had become leader of Hell, I had a lot of free time while he was in meetings.

I waited until he had left for another board meeting about Eric Cartman's arrangements and placement. It was quite chaotic since he fit under many categories (literally. Fat bastard...). Most people would've been upset, especially since it was the day of our anniversary, however I was over the moon excited. It was finally time to carry out my plans...

Damien's POV

The meeting about Eric fucking Cartman seemed to drag on forever and ever. It seriously must've lasted all eternity before we decided to just cycle him between every area of hell every month.

By the time I got home, Phillip had already cooked dinner and set it out.

"Hey darling, long day?"

"I guess."

"Sit, I have a present for you."

I rolled my eyes finely and kissed his forehead tenderly as I sat next to him.

"You're all I need."

He chuckled. I love when he laughs, because he has such a gorgeous smile. I honestly didn't think I could fall in love any more, but he always proves me wrong.

"Whatever you say love."

I smile softly and glance at the table, where a third plate is set. His face is bright and he looks almost about to burst.

I can't even ask anything before he hands me an envelope, a wide grin still set on his face.

"An envelope?"

"Open it."

So I do. I pull out the singular piece of paper in it, and for a second I'm terrified he's signed legal papers to declare us married.

But then I read the title.

*Adoption Certificate*

This paper legally declares that: Phillip Pirrup and: Damien Thorn, have adopted child: Rosie Chris.

My heart stops. And all of a sudden I hear small foot steps in the doorway.

My eyes dart up to meet a pair of round hazel ones. They belong to that of a small child, about six or seven, with long black hair and fair skin. She has sooty eyelashes and pale freckles, and she's clinging to a skull patterned blanket that I recognize as one of Phillip's sewing projects.

"Oh shit."

"Language."

"That's..."

"Our kid."

"Oh fuck."

"Damien!"

And for some reason, my eyes are wet. And then the child, Rosie, comes over to us and climbs into my lap. She must say something, but I can't hear her because all I can hear is Phillip saying: "We're dads."

And it feels amazing.