
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/783060.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gone_Series_-_Michael_Grant
  Relationship:
      Drake_Merwin/Sam_Temple, Sam_Temple/Drake_Merwin
  Character:
      Drake_Merwin, Sam_Temple
  Additional Tags:
      Hate_Sex, Dom/sub_Undertones, Drabble
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-03 Words: 456
****** Broken Wings and Other Beautiful Things ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Drake always destroys what he loves and Sam needs to be destroyed.
It was never like Sam wanted this. This fucked up mix of nightmares and wet
dreams.
He wanted the first person he lost his virginity to be special, call him
traditional, call him a girl.
He didn’t want that person to be Drake Merwin.
The tentacle gripped his chin harshly, forcing it up, meaning that if Sam
opened his eyes, they would meet the ones above him, and Sam really didn’t want
to see the expression on Drake’s face right now. Triumph probably. He liked
nothing better than breaking Sam down to this point, this mess of sweat, pain
and arousal.
He opened his eyes all the same.
Drake grinned, all teeth and little love. He pushed deeper into Sam, taking
complete delight in the fresh flush of red across the smaller boy’s body, the
moan, the way Sam’s eyes glazed over.
“Ah, Ah-“
“That’s right Sammy.” Drake cooed, and Sam felt like spiders had crawled up his
spine, and he could feel that Drake too was covered in a thin sheen of sweat,
though he had none of Sam’s warmth. “Make some noise for me, come on-” Each
word was punctuated with a sharp, almost painful thrust, making Sam’s back
arch, Drake’s hips slamming against Sam’s. He apparently wasn’t satisfied with
pained moans and broken whimpers. He yanked Sam up by the wrist, moving himself
to the edge of the bed, so if Sam didn’t want to fall, he had to stay close to
the boy with the whip hand. Even the fucking position they moved in was a power
play. Of course. What else had he expected? It almost looked tender, Sam’s head
resting on Drake’s shoulder, nestled in his lap, an tentacle wrapped tightly
around his waist to keep him steady. A hand wrapped around Sam’s cock
(eliciting a filthy gasp), jerking at an almost lazy pace.
“See, the difference between you and me is Sammy-” His words were hissed into
Sam’s ear, though Sam was too far gone to hear much, his cries muffled by
Drake’s shoulder, his nails raking neat patterns in Drake’s back, that move
actually bringing a moan from the demon himself. “You fall into sin
accidentally. I enjoy it.” He looks at the scars covering the surfer’s back,
criss-crossed and messy. Beautiful. So beautiful. Drake hated beautiful things,
ever since he first burnt wings off a butterfly. He liked destroying the things
he loved.
Sam came with a noise that was almost a scream, and almost a sob, and Drake
came some after, biting and snarling like an animal.
Sam doesn’t leave afterwards, he stays in Drake’s arm, letting himself be
hushed and held, and he feels like something is rotting in him. Drake enjoys
watching the cracks.
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