•Spicy Content + •TW•
"You have a strange definition of 'interesting.'" Deimos attempted to sound annoyed, but his voice came out rougher, thinner, through his teeth than he had meant. Whether this was due to fear or something even scarier than that, Deimos didn't try to contemplate as he looked away, his gaze landing on Blake as if to ground himself. The air in the room held a thickness, tainted by arousal and guilt and rage. Ammon smirked, a look in his eyes as if he could taste all of it.
"Yeah?" Though his tone held a hint of a question, Deimos knew Ammon wasn't curious in the slightest.
Reaching his hands around Deimos's waist, Ammon firmly gripped Deimos's ass. As if he weighed nothing, Ammon lifted Deimos and carried him to the bed. He dropped him down next to Blake, who kept looking between the two, wondering what would happen next, practically holding his breath. Blake could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, clogging his throat; He should've been repulsed, wanted to. But shame wrapped around him like barbed wire, digging into his skin with an ache for more, the anticipation clawing at him.
"Strip." The clipped tone of Ammon's voice caused a lump to form in Blake's throat as he watched Deimos slowly pull his sweatpants the rest of the way off of his waist. He didn't flinch, didn't hesitate, just followed the command. Deimos didn't know how to feel about that, his eyebrows furrowing at his own actions.
Ammon wasted no time, following suit as he dropped his jeans, looking ready to devour Deimos.
"Wait..." Blake had never heard Deimos's voice so hesitant before, so unsure. Deimos didn't know how to approach his request without openly defying Ammon. It was like trying to walk a tightrope made of razors.
Ammon raised an eyebrow, standing over Deimos dangerously close. If Deimos leaned forward even slightly, his face would be met with Ammon's heated erection.
"I... You tore me. It hasn't had any time to heal properly. Isn't there some other way for me to get you off? I really... don't like being penetrated." Blake was once again blown away by Deimos's words, his tone. Deimos doubted Ammon would care, having forcefully entered him three times now. Twice just recently, and now he wanted to tear open the barely healed wounds? Though skeptical, Deimos still spoke his mind, ready for the backlash. He expected no remorse.
"Suck me off then. If you do a good job, I won't fuck you. But you'd better fully satisfy me, or I'll make use of you however I see fit." Ammon didn't sound annoyed, didn't falter in his response, just spoke to Deimos matter-of-factly. Deimos hid his surprise well, looking down at Ammon's hardened length.
Though he didn't like the idea, Deimos didn't hesitate. He'd rather this than to be bent over again. He was shocked at Ammon's response, having expected Ammon to just do as he pleased without any regard, like he'd always done.
•
Deimos licked Ammon's shaft from hilt to head before engulfing the sensitive skin in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and hollowing his cheeks as he pressed Ammon's length as deeply down his throat as he could. Luckily, enough time had passed that the edges of his lips had healed, unlike the tear to his hole.
Ammon groaned, gripping Deimos by his hair. Deimos couldn't help but notice how... light Ammon's touch was. His fingers tangled and gripped the strands tightly, but it wasn't rough the way it had been. It was almost as if he was intentionally being gentle.
"Blake. You just gonna watch?" Ammon smirked towards Blake's wide green eyes, using his grip in Deimos's hair to force his head to bob, though Deimos wasn't complaining. He did moan around Ammon's cock, protesting his words.
"Relax your throat." Ammon used both hands to press Deimos's head as closely to him as possible, his nose flush to Ammon's pubic bone, swallowing him down to the base. Ammon sent another look to Blake as he continued to fuck Deimos's face.
Blake begrudgingly began stroking his own length, precum having long started dripping onto the sheets as his arousal made his erection ache. Unable to help it, light moans spilled from his lips as he tilted his head back in pleasure.
Ammon matched Blake's rhythm, bobbing Deimos's head in time to each of Blake's strokes. He sped up as Blake did, feeling an orgasm rising in his stomach as he took in the tear-stained expression on Deimos's face.
Deimos could barely breathe, his face turning red as tears and snot leaked from his eyes and nose, mixing in with the saliva that was dripping down his chin.
Soon, Deimos could feel Ammon cum in his mouth, the warmth of it sliding down his throat as he swallowed, gagging.
"Not half bad." Ammon smirked down to Deimos, grabbing him by his cheeks.
"But not quite good enough." His smirk turned evil as he lifted Deimos by his hair, bringing him up from his knees and swiftly turning him around, forcing him down on the bed. Deimos bit harshly into his lip, cursing himself for believing in Ammon's words for even a second. Of course, a simple blowjob wouldn't have been enough for him. Deimos felt he only had himself to blame, once again aiming his gaze to Blake, reminding himself why he must endure.
Blake stopped masturbating at the sudden movement, having been close to cumming. The empty feeling of his insides leaving him wanting more, unable to finish. Frustration bubbled in his stomach alongside his arousal, something akin to anger at himself for his cursed body. How could he be desperate for relief when Deimos was right in front of him, bearing the brunt of Ammon's desires all on his own? Blake felt near disgusted with himself.
Upon seeing the frustrated look on Blake's face, the redness of his still aching cock, Ammon chuckled before leaning down to whisper in Deimos's ear,
"Fuck him. He's practically begging for it." He took a single step back, leaving room for Deimos to stand from his bent position on the bed.
Deimos looked to Ammon with a baffled look on his face, then back to Blake who looked almost... desperate, his teeth gnawing at his lip as guilt swam in his eyes.
Ignoring Ammon, deciding to focus entirely on Blake, Deimos stood. He grabbed Blake by his ankles, pulling him towards the edge of the bed before slowly inserting a finger. Immediately, Blake began jerking his hips, unable to control the way desire contorted his body.
Deimos warmed up Blake's insides, taking care to add one finger at a time until Blake was practically gaping, swallowing his fingers. Blake's hips began jerking more fervently, an orgasm crawling up his stomach. Deimos swiftly removed his fingers before pushing the entirety of his length inside Blake.
Blake came as soon as Deimos was fully buried inside him, a loud and breathless moan greeting Deimos's ears like music. Slowly, he began grinding his hips in circles, touching every part of Blake's insides before he began thrusting. He would pull out until he could feel Blake clench around the tip of his cock before forcing himself all the way back inside.
Ammon watched, his own cock swelling further at the sight. He took a step forward, gripping Deimos's hips. For a brief moment, Deimos's movements halted.
"Don't stop." It was an order, a throaty groan into Deimos's ear as Ammon lined himself up to Deimos's entrance. Taking none of the consideration Deimos had shown Blake, Ammon forcefully pushed himself inside, groaning at the tightness of Deimos's insides.
"Relax before you snap my dick in half." Deimos was breathing through grit teeth, trying to focus on the pleasure of being inside Blake rather than the pain that came with Ammon being inside him.
Is this how Blake felt? Deimos wondered. All those times he was tortured and rewarded with pleasure? Deimos wondered if he, too, would begin to harden every time he hurt.
Soon, Ammon's thrusts were in time with Deimos's. Every time Deimos pressed fully into Blake, Ammon would barely have the tip in. And when Deimos pulled out, he could feel himself stretching open, Ammon's length pressing deeper inside. With every entry and exit into Blake, Deimos could feel Ammon enter and exit him. He moved his hips forward and back, feeling his length swallowed and hole pounded. He could barely handle the sensation.
Meanwhile, Blake hated how arousing the scene was. It was like Deimos was fucking both of them at the same time, with the same movements. Ammon too found equal enjoyment in watching Deimos, not having to move his hips at all. Soon, though, he grew impatient.
Gripping Deimos's hips more tightly, Ammon began violently thrusting into him. Deimos let out a mangled sound as Blake moaned loudly, the pressure on the inside of Deimos's stomach and the way it forced him deeper inside Blake left his mind feeling like electric static.
His thrusts sped up, another orgasm fast approaching as Blake finished on his stomach, clenching tightly around Deimos who could feel his own orgasm begin to wash over him.
Slowly, his thrusts came to a halt. Just as Blake could feel Deimos's load filling his insides, Deimos could feel the heat of Ammon's cum threatening to leak out of him as Ammon slowly pulled out.
A bloodied mixture of sweat and cum leaked down Deimos's thighs as he struggled to stay standing. Blake felt a wave of guilt wash over him, the high from the pleasure slowly fading and being replaced with anger and shame. How could he have enjoyed something Deimos had to suffer through? He hated how often he found himself thinking that.
Ammon, however, was extremely satisfied, plopping onto the bed next to Blake who could only lay staring at the ceiling as Deimos forced himself to stay upright.
***
A few hours had passed. It was quiet. An eerie kind of quiet. The only audible things in the room being the sound of their lungs filling and the crackling of the fire. It could have been peaceful. Should have been.
But the echo of the acts that had taken place lived in the room, clouding the air and taking up the space meant to be occupied by happy memories.
Deimos lay on the bed, his body throbbing. Ammon sat in Deimos's chair by the fire, his arms on each of the chair's armrests as he leaned back, his eyes closed, head tilted toward the ceiling. Both men were dressed only in their boxers while Blake simply wore an oversized shirt- one of Deimos's. None of them had really cleaned or addressed their wounds yet. Blake was too tired, Deimos was recovering, and Ammon couldn't be bothered.
It was then that Blake once again caught sight of Ammon's busted hands and, without thinking about it, he stood from his place on the bed, next to Deimos, and walked to the kitchen silently. Leaning down under the sink, Blake grabbed the makeshift first-aid kit. Deimos locked eyes with Blake as they shared a small smile before Blake moved to sit on the floor in front of Ammon, unwrapping the bloodied bandages from his hands and tending to them.
Ammon sat quietly while Blake worked, looking around the small cabin. He had never cared to notice before, but it was clear to him that Deimos had been alone for a long time before meeting Blake. There was only the one chair in the dining room and the single recliner in the living room that he currently occupied. Not to mention, the house was small, no walls dividing the space; the kitchen to the left, living room to the right with the bed smack in the middle, the 'dining room' directly to the left of the mattress. The wall of the living room was lined with bookshelves with a perch for Bird by the fireplace.
Ammon liked it like this, smirking to himself, watching Blake work diligently. Ammon didn't like closed floor plans either, much preferring to always have a line of sight. Ammon could tell that Deimos built the place himself, all the windows and doors strategically placed.
The silence dragged on, hanging in the air. Blake dabbed the split skin of Ammon's knuckles, trying not to wince at the exposed wounds, the flesh practically shredded. What had Ammon done to get these wounds, he wondered? If Blake was sure of anything, it was that he felt bad for the person on the other side of Ammon's fists. If he had struck them hard enough to damage his hands like this, how had they ended up?
Blake decided not to think about that anymore, his stomach churning. It made him uneasy, the tenderness of the moment. The way he could feel Ammon gazing at him, Deimos watching intently as Blake cared for Ammon's injuries.
Still shirtless, Ammon shifted in his seat, pulling his freshly wrapped hand from Blake once he finished. Grabbing the first aid kit, Ammon took the small pair of scissors along with the needle and thread. After all they had done, Ammon's wound on his stomach needed stitching again.
Blake grumbled, practically snatching the tools from Ammon. Deimos tsked from the bed, standing and limping towards them.
"I'll do it. Lay down." Deimos's voice was harsh, but his tone was firm; it wasn't a suggestion. Blake handed the scissors, needle, and thread to Deimos before dragging his feet on his way to bed.
Ammon was smirking, a glint in his eyes as he watched Deimos snip away at the old stitches on Ammon's abdomen. The wound had healed some in the week he had left it to heal, but Ammon wasn't one to treat anything with delicacy, including himself, so all his quick movements ended up prolonging the healing process- this wasn't the first time it had needed re-stitching.
Deimos's work was quick, fluid. He had removed the old stitches, cleaned and dressed the wound efficiently. Blake felt stupidly envious, wanting Deimos's attention to himself.
Standing, Deimos put the first aid kit away before joining Blake in bed. Ammon watched as they fell asleep.
***
Deimos rose with the sun, the rays of light beaming through the window and stirring him from his sleep. Ammon woke at the same time, his body sensing movement. Ammon smirked, reaching across the bed to run his hands through Deimos's hair. He didn't let his surprise show on his face, not having meant to reach out to Deimos like that. Deimos bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to acknowledge Ammon's out-of-character actions.
While Blake was asleep, Deimos did as he usually would, taking care to tend to Blake's wounds, applying an ointment he made and cleaning his body before dressing him in a pair of boxers and oversized t-shirt before tucking him into the bed after changing the sheets. He was so busy taking care of Blake, he hardly paid any mind to himself. That never made sense to Ammon, who watched Deimos's gentle touch care for Blake.
To him, he was the most important person in his life. So how could Deimos so easily prioritize others? He couldn't understand, he really didn't get it.
Once Deimos was done caring for Blake, he began brewing an herbal tea to help his aching body. Neither of them spoke for what felt like a long time. Ammon soon grew restless at the silence and stood from the seat he had taken by the fire.
Surprising Deimos, Ammon walked over to him with a smirk, placing a light kiss on his forehead before snaking his hands around Deimos's waist, gripping his ass. Deimos's eyes were wide, not used to such... affection? from Ammon's hands. It was like Ammon was trying his hardest to be kind, continuing from last night all the way through to the morning. It was almost as if he was truly trying to be considerate. His touches weren't as rough. Deimos bit the inside of his cheek again, wondering what the hell Ammon was trying to do. He didn't want to be swayed.
He was only doing this for Blake. There was no other reason. So why was Ammon trying to confuse him now? These unrecognizable actions, foreign tenderness?
Deimos knew that Ammon didn't like having to do anything extra, nothing wasted in word or action. So, his recent gentleness didn't make any sense. Was it all because Deimos had surrendered to him? Could he have avoided all the pain and regret if he had just done this all those years ago? Deimos clenched his jaw harder at that thought, not realizing his fists were balled tensely at his sides.
Ammon laughed, tightening his grip ever so slightly. Enough to make Deimos wince, his body throbbing in pain. He had never felt so sore, once again in awe of the things Blake seemed to handle so easily. Is this really how Blake felt any time they'd had sex?
"If you don't stop looking so delicious," Ammon paused, smirking to himself and dragging his lips in close to Deimos's ear, "I might just have you for breakfast." Deimos ignored the shiver going down his spine, lifting his hands to push Ammon away. Ammon laughed at the look on Deimos's face, raising a curious eyebrow before walking back towards his seat.
He didn't fully understand his own actions either. Anything he wanted, he just took. So why did it seem like he hesitated with Deimos? Was Deimos caving in for Ammon? Or was Ammon subconsciously caving into Deimos?
Ammon moved around constantly because he wasn't exactly known to be a good guy. There were people out there who wanted to do unspeakable things to Ammon, and he deserved every single one of them. Ammon wasn't meant to stay in the same place for too long. In a similar way to Blake, Ammon wasn't meant to be safe. His routine was so thoroughly constructed because it's the only sense of repetition in his life. The only real consistency.
Having Deimos succumb to him meant that was no longer true. For the first time, in a long time, Ammon had something tethering him to the Earth. It caused an itch to crawl up his spine. He didn't like the idea of being tied down. Or having something to leave behind. Ammon wanted Deimos to forever stay within his grasp. To cave in to him the way Deimos caved in to Blake.
Ammon valued no life above his own, unable to fathom letting himself die, so letting Deimos die was equally out of the question. He couldn't help but drag his eyes over Deimos's body as he stood leaning against the counter, pouring his finished tea into a cup. Ammon had to maintain control with no discrimination. He couldn't treat Deimos differently; he couldn't be special. To evade any sense of vulnerability, Ammon couldn't sympathize or empathize.
And if he faltered on this mindset? Then he would be the one losing something. He would be the one submitting to him. His sense of superiority would crumble, and he'd once again be left in the cold. All alone.
Ammon tsked to himself before standing back up, making his way towards Deimos quickly. He grabbed hold of Deimos again, leaning down and pressing their bodies close together, the green of his eyes growing dark as a twisted look took over his features.
He began placing open-mouthed kisses on Deimos's neck and collarbone. Deimos bit into his lip, not used to Ammon's actions. Deimos wanted to resist, to pull away, but some small part couldn't; he found himself unable to move. Ammon's eyebrows furrowed, wanting to understand the foreign emotions fogging his brain. Opening his jaw, he possessively bit into Deimos's shoulder, drawing blood, his razor teeth slicing into Deimos's flesh.
Deimos flinched, placing his hands against Ammon's chest, biting into his lip harder, the pain a shock to his system as he felt his knees grow weak.
As if sweetly, Ammon released his bite, looking at Deimos through the corner of his eye as he licked up the blood, his tongue trailing across Deimos's shoulder, neck, and collarbone. Deimos couldn't help the shudder, feeling his sweatpants grow just a little tighter.
He was finally beginning to understand the appeal Blake found in this, though he wasn't ready to fully acknowledge that thought. He didn't want to.
Without either of them noticing, Blake slowly blinked his eyes open, watching the scene unfold. Though the pain from last night seemed to finally catch up to him, he found his gaze transfixed on the two, a bitter feeling in his stomach. He liked watching how different Deimos was with Ammon. The contortions Ammon coaxed from Deimos's features. Blake could've never caused Deimos to make such a face. Having been tucked away for most of his life, Blake didn't know how to feel anymore.
He could see Deimos fighting the urge to cave into Ammon. And Ammon wasn't making it easy for him in both words and actions. The shift in his behavior, however subtle, was taking its toll on Deimos's mental fortitude.
Blake himself was weak to such cruel temptations.
***
I couldn't take my eyes off of them. It was magnetic, the atmosphere filling every corner of the room. It made my stomach turn.
I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. Haven't I suffered enough? Is there an end in sight? I just got away from Callin. I thought I was free. That I wouldn't have to deal with stuff like this anymore.
I wanted them to stop. I didn't want them to stop. My mind and body pulled me in two different directions; I was made for this. I didn't have the sense to object, my body practically begging for release as my eyes remained glued to them.
The way Ammon's arms were wrapped around Deimos. The way Deimos shuddered at his touch.
I had completely given up trying to maintain my composure, it was always like this. It had always been like this. Was my body ever truly my own? I didn't have the strength to fight these urges anymore, my mind completely numb as my body submitted, reacting only to painful stimulation.
Standing abruptly, I threw the blanket off of me. Immediately, their eyes snapped to me and, as if subconsciously, Deimos stiffened in Ammon's arms, like he hadn't realized how relaxed he'd grown until I glared at them.
"Don't follow me. I need to think."
Without another word, I walked to the door and let it slam behind me.
The crunch of the snow under my feet went ignored as I walked aimlessly, my mind moving faster than the steps I took in an unknown direction.
I could feel my heart beating erratically in my chest, a sweat broken out on my skin that ignored the cool air around me. I hadn't even thought to dress properly, wearing nothing but underwear and a large t-shirt.
Without thinking about it, I could feel my body temperature rising. Steam emitted from my body as my insides began melting, twisting. My bones began to liquify, my muscles contorting as I forced my body to take on a new shape, my skin turning to fur until I was running full speed on all fours.
The snow contrasted with my black coat, the flakes clinging to me as the wind stung my face, smoke exhaling from my lungs with each breath.
I came to a halt when a familiar scent caught my attention. Suddenly, the breaths that I'd been heaving stopped completely as I froze in my tracks.
•
Callin's body swung gently in the wind, his skin practically frozen as he dangled from his ankle still caught in the bear trap.
I wanted to laugh, my mind buzzing. Without realizing it, I walked right up to his corpse and sat in front of it, staring.
This was because of me. I had done this to him.
My head started to throb, a whimper escaping my throat as I stared at his body, my vision blurring as black and white flashes crossed my mind excruciatingly.
*
"What?" Blake pulled away just slightly until their noses were touching, his lips pouting even as the smile still captured his face. "Do you not like this? Is this not what you wanted?" Blake's voice was tantalizing, teasing.
*
My body was on fire, yet the cold made me shiver. That was me. I did that.
*
Consciously or not, Blake cut into Callin in all the same places where his own scars resided until Callin's body almost mirrored Blake's. The longer this went on, the more anger drove Blake's actions. He looked at Callin and saw himself. Helpless. Worthless. Pathetic.
But he's not anymore.
"Pl-please." Callin's voice came out a whisper, the shock finally helping to ease the pain. He had cuts all over, his ankle throbbed in pain from his weight holding him up in that metal contraption and bruises that littered his skin. Deimos kept watching from the sidelines, totally captivated by Blake.
Blake hummed in response,
"I remember pleading with you. Begging you. What was it, exactly, that you said?" Blake pressed the tip of the knife into Callin's cheek threateningly, his teeth gritting. He didn't even sound like himself, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, his eyes practically glowing in his hatred as his pupils began to dilate.
*
The pounding in my head intensified as tears froze against my cheeks, the sound on the chains rattling in the wind ringing in my ears as my body slowly began contorting back, steam pouring from my skin. My bones and muscles melting down and rearranging themselves as I shed my fur. I collapsed into the snow in a heap, my hands weaving into my hair as I tugged the strands, internally begging for the pain to stop.
*
"I-I told yo-you that it w-was pointless."
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Blake paused, using one of his hands to cup his ear as he leaned in closer to Callin, "What's pointless?"
Callin's body shook with sobs and he slowly began to accept the situation, the chain rattling into the otherwise almost peaceful air as Callin's body jerked with his tears. Closing his eyes and letting his tears fall, he responded.
"Struggling."
Blake's smile twisted even further, his eyes glazing over completely as his pupils consumed the green of his irises until there was nothing but pitch black.
"That's exactly right." Blake lined the knife up to the side of Callin's throat, ever so slowly sinking the blade into Callin's neck. Savoring the way he could feel the knife penetrating through each layer of skin. Slowly, teasingly, tantalizing. Callin's eyes blew wide as he began to choke on his blood, the knife going into his skin at a torturous pace.
*
Struggling is pointless and yet for all that time, I still thrashed around to no avail.
... To no avail?
The pain in my skull dulled. My naked body trembling against the cold as I stood from my hunched position, releasing my grip from my hair and taking a careful step towards Callin, my head tilting to the side.
A smile grew on my lips, spreading the skin as my eyes glazed over.
No. It wasn't to no avail.
More images flashed behind my unfocused gaze as the cold bit at my skin.
*
Jackson's eyes were black as he started to rush towards Blake. But Blake didn't falter, staring dead at Jackson before raising the gun and firing it once again. Jackson fell to the floor, a hand going to his now bleeding shoulder as he screamed out in agony. He bared his teeth at Blake, his shoulder starting to gush blood, his face paling.
*
That was also me. I lived that. I survived that. The scenes played out in my head as if it wasn't really me, like I was watching everything happen from outside my body. I really did that.
*
Blake walked even closer, his aim never leaving Dave as he leaned down and grabbed him by the hair on the side of his head, yanking it to the side.
"Why are you trying to run?" Blake's head tilted to the side, his eyes completely glazed over, as if he wasn't even there.
"Don't you know?" He put his lips on Dave's ear.
"Struggling is pointless." Pointing the gun under Dave's chin, Blake pulled the trigger without even flinching.
*
Laughter filled the air around me, mingling with the rattling of chains, getting lost in the wind as I gripped my bruised stomach, the laugh causing a cathartic ache.
Struggling is pointless, huh?
Then how come they're all dead and I'm still here?
My laughter soon died down to what sounded like a mangled giggle, even to my ears.
Yeah... Let's show Ammon how much fun it is to struggle.
***
The door slammed behind Blake as he left the cabin, Deimos moving to follow before Ammon grabbed his arm, stopping Deimos with a smirk on his face as he said,
"Didn't you hear him? He said not to follow. Let the little wolf take a breath." Ammon snickered, his eyes drinking in Deimos's entire body.
"Besides... I haven't had my breakfast yet." Once again scooping Deimos up like he was nothing, Ammon carried him to the bed, dropping him onto the mattress as he smashed their lips together.
"Ammon, please. After last night..." Deimos didn't have the heart or the stomach to finish his sentence, feeling his insides tingle as his body betrayed him. He hated how meek, small, he seemed when it came to Ammon.
"Admit it. You're growing a taste for it. Or..." His words trailed with his hand that slid down Deimos's chest teasingly before his fingers snaked inside the waistband of Deimos's sweats. He began palming Deimos's erection before asking,
"... Has your body betrayed you?" His voice was smug, as if he already knew the answer. Deimos let his hands drop to his sides, his head hung as he stared wide eyed at the floor, finally having to accept that he had in fact begun to find pleasure from Ammon's cruel actions.
"... Take it slow." His words were quiet, barely audible. But Ammon heard them loud and clear. Acceptance. Surrender. A smile, a real smile, tore Ammon's face in half, impractical joy filling his eyes as he once again pressed his lips to Deimos's. Finally, he thought, he's all mine.
***
Blake's feet carried him through the snow, purple and red from the cold. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his head hung as he watched his feet with each step. The cold had nipped at his skin; his knees, elbows and hands practically frozen, reddened in anger at his mistreatment, the thin shirt and loose underwear having been disregarded from his shift.
Eventually, he arrived at the cabin. He stopped in his tracks; his eyes glazed over with a smile on his face. There were trace amount of blood on his hands and arms, a small smudge against his cheek, from the cracking of Callin's frozen skin. He had taken Callin's corpse off the metal chains, laying him to rest under a tree nearby. Even that was more than Callin deserved but more and more Blake began to wonder if he were any better. If he even wanted to be.
His head was filled with thoughts, wants, excitement at his new conviction.
No, he thought, I'm no better than Callin.
As he stood there, practically able to feel the warm seeping from within the home, he laughed at the next thought that passed through his mind.
I'll make this home a tomb.
He hadn't even noticed when he started walking again. It wasn't until the warmth from within the cabin met his cheeks that he realized he'd opened the door.
•
Ammon and Deimos were on the bed. Ammon was once again inside Deimos, thrusting his hips back and forth as he fucked him.
Blake didn't stop smiling.
Upon hearing the door open, both men directed their attention to Blake, though Ammon didn't halt in his movements.
There was something about Blake's glowing green eyes, the way he didn't flinch at seeing the way Ammon was on top of Deimos, how warm the room was in comparison to the cold he had just escaped.
The contrast, the heat that warmly greeted him compared to the cold that threatened to keep him. The yellow lighting inside verses the white snow of the outdoors. It was as if Blake was dragging death behind him- he reeked of it. It was spectral.
Locking eyes with Deimos, Blake asked,
"What do you want?"
It was an echo of a question. One Deimos had, once upon a time, directed at Blake.
Without waiting for an answer, Blake closed the door behind him and fully entered the residence, moving to join them on the bed. Ammon smirked, taking in Blake's nude appearance, the blood stains on his pale skin as he sat down next to Deimos's head that rocked back and forth with each of Ammon's ever persistent thrusts.
Deimos felt something rising in his stomach alongside his orgasm.
"What do you want?" It played on repeat in his head.
"You." Blake. That's what he wanted. That's what Deimos wanted from the moment he had laid eyes on Blake.
A slap greeted his cheek, drawing Deimos's attention back to Ammon.
"Focus." He said, tightly gripping Deimos's thighs as sweat glistened on his forehead.
But Deimos couldn't focus, his mind in a daze and his yellow eyes fogged. How could he have forgotten? Despite the pleasure he had finally succumbed to, the only reason he was doing this was for Blake.
When had he lost his will to fight? To truly thrash around? To struggle?
No... He thought, I promised myself I'd burn the world down if it meant seeing Blake warm, his eyes lit up from the flames.
Blake kept smiling down to Deimos, grabbing him by his hair and angling his head left to face Blake as he pressed the tip of his erection to Deimos's lips. Ammon snickered.
Maybe it's time to burn it all down...
"No one would take Blake away again. And no one would come in between him and Deimos ever again. The only person allowed to hurt Blake being Deimos, and the only person allowed to hurt Deimos being Blake."
How had he forgotten that?
***
Hello, my stars!
A lot has changed since the original, huh? I don't think there's more than a sentence or two in here that's left from the original lmao.
I really hope you guys are enjoying said changes! Personally, I'm having so much fun exploring these sides to these characters. I know them very well and yet they still surprise me when presented with new scenarios.
Anyway, I've been writing and editing as I find myself able, which is why there's no set schedule like there was the first go around so thank you for bearing with me!
I'll see you guys in the next and final chapter ;)
Till then, my stars!!
~Ms.Witch