Okay, so this is my first story. I only joined a few days ago, and don't really know where to post anything yet. Anyway, I'll accept criticism well and happily, I'm just happy you have found my story and decided to give it a read!

He knew what to expect when he heard him trudging into the shelter. For as long as he could remember, after the tribe had killed Ralph and all hope of being rescued disappeared, he had shared this shelter with him. Eric clenched his eyes in a miserable attempt to block out reality, hoping Roger would assume him to be asleep and therefore leave him alone.

For all Roger beat him, he seemed to care about the boy and was known to wake up with a protective arm around his waist. When Sam had gotten ill and Eric was near breaking point, it was Roger who sat up with him late into the night holding him and reassuring him. Eric was glad of the company, and had grown to really like Roger, but it didn't compare to what Roger became when he turned. Once, during a non-consensual night, Roger had beat Eric profusely, leaving him with a black eye and hand prints round his neck which Roger made him cover up with face paint and his old tattered shirt buttoned right to the top.

He could hear Roger groan, and mutter something about being cold and then felt his presence beside him. Eric gave away his consciousness by tensing when Roger slinked an arm over his waist and gasp when a large hand slid into his tattered shorts. Roger smirked and jumped upon the smaller boy in one swift motion that left Eric with his mouth open in shock. Roger pinned his hands down, even though they both knew they had gotten past the point of fighting for dominance, he knew the small boy had broken and would easily submit, but he felt the need to satisfy his urge to dominate and control. Eric was aware of this, and he weakly shook his arms about in a pathetic attempt to break free, more out of habit than anything. He knew it was one of his times, and that he would be clenching his eyes shut again to try and drown out Rogers's vicious words and his eyes.

"Why haven't you cleaned up this wound?" Roger stuck a finger into a rather large gash on the young boys' chest as he kissed and bit his neck.

"I know you enjoy looking at it" was the meek reply, followed by a sinister chuckle in his ear. He felt ashamed, his groin aching as Roger rubbed himself on the boys hip, groaning in his ear and mumbling about how he's going to fuck his brains out and that he wouldn't be walking properly for weeks. It hit something within him because he was getting more and more turned on, and when Roger discarded his shorts he was fully erect and began to blush.

"I knew you loved it, you sick poof" With this Roger carelessly discarded his loin cloth, never taking his eyes off of his lovers aching cock. Touching them together, Roger released a suppressed moan and ungracefully spat into his hand, rubbing it all over his dick. He motioned for the boy to turn over, but due to Eric's lack of sight with his eyes clamped shut, Roger sighed and shook the boy.

"You better keep your fucking eyes open this time, I want you to be here and not off in some stupid dream world" he slapped the boy over his head, and tugged at his hair and pushed him on to his stomach. Spitting again on to his hand he teased himself rubbing his cock and staring at the entrance he would be destroying. The thought of forcing himself upon Eric was overwhelming, and he stuck his badly lubed member inside his lover. Eric winced, and closed his eyes. Above Erics pain could be heard Rogers groan as he let his eyes roll back and enjoyed the warm passage that enclosed his penis. He picked up a steady rhythm, to which Eric panted and moaned as he began to feel pleasure. Roger scratched his back, releasing blood which caused his hands to slip on Erics back. This pleased him, and sticking a hand infront of Erics face, had him lick his own blood. This excited Roger, as his pace became faster and Erics wimpers turned into screams his hands found the smaller boys neck where they tightened and tightened as did the passage around Rogers cock.

"I.. I... Eric" Roger whispered into his lovers ear as he released himself inside of him.

Eric let his breathing come back to a normal rate as Roger removed himself from him and joined him back by his side.

Eric turned back on to his back, and could feel the older boys eyes bore into him.

"Look at me" Roger demanded, a hand stretching out and turning his face towards his.

Eric looked at him, helpless and tired; he looked into his eyes looking for the boy who cared about him. Roger smiled, and kissed the small boys cheek.

"Please" Eric said "I don't know what I'll do about my back now, when I go swimming with the others..." Roger screwed up his eyes, and looked down to nowhere in particular to avoid the gaze of the sad boy.

"You know it's unintentional, you know how I can be. And you can just keep your shirt on for a few days" a wicked grin crossed the older boys face "I think they suit you"

Now Eric screwed his face up, then he remembered who he was lying with, and just appeared curious.

"The scars, they suit you. I like how when I look upon them, I know you are mine." He was growing increasing pleased with himself "Tomorrow, you will show off your scars." He said with an air of self importance.

With this, Roger rolled over and faced the other way from his companion, leaving Eric in a state of shock, not to mention pain.

He knew that he was lucky really, he knew Roger cared, and he was secretly becoming proud of his scars, too.

Yeah, it got a bit dirty. I feel bad! But what can I say...