Title: Sharpen a Stick at Both Ends

Genre: Drama

Pairings: Ralph X Roger

Rating:. PG-16

Authors Note: Um. Yeah. I'm a LOTF slash-obsessed freak.

Sharpen a stick at both ends.

Ralph was sweating and scared, and the same thoughts kept running through his head, 'What does that mean? What does sharpen a stick at both ends mean?' The savages were after him. He had no place to hid, so he ran in some attempt to escape from this horrid, isolated island. Ralph hoped that Samneric would find him, that way he had some hope of surviving.

Ralph panted as he ran through the thick forest. Trees grabbed hold of him, and Ralph found himself tripping over a collection of logs. To this, a violent shout came from Ralph. But, the oncoming noise of several littluns was chasing him and driving Ralph to runaway even quicker than he already was.

The sounds of the savages faded when Ralph found a sanctuary. It was a small formation formed by creepers but Ralph felt it would serve as a decent hiding place. And that is what he needed more than anything else. A place to hide. Dropping on his stomach, Ralph shimmied his way into the creepers. His breathing calmed because for the time being he was safe. Safety is what mattered.

Voices from far away faded so greatly that they were inaudible. Ralph's heart calmed and a sense of ease came over him. Ralph was safe. Swallowing, Ralph looked down at the ground, his messy, black hair covering his face. Letting his face look up again, Ralph's jaw dropped. A pair of feet were in front of the creepers.

"No!" Screamed Ralph as he closed his eyes from what he felt was on-coming terror. From the unidentifiable feet came a low, sadistic chuckle.

It was Roger.

Sharpen a stick at both ends.

Roger didn't even bother to look down in the creepers to check his suspicions, he merely gave a cocky grin, and "I found you. Come out."

Ralph obeyed. He knew that he had a chance if he just listened to the boy in front of him, and if all else failed Ralph knew he could outrun Roger if the situation became any worse. Ralph raised his head, staring at Roger from his messy, blanket of hair. Ralph screamed again, "Don't hurt me! Stay civil!" Ralph felt it was a useless attempt to convert the savage, but gave it a try. Roger just laughed.

Grumbling, Roger gave another order to Ralph, "Stop screaming." With that said, Roger pushed Ralph on the ground to straddle him. Taking his spear, Roger placed a light cut on Ralph's bare chest with the precision and sensuality a lover takes to remove the clothing of their partner. Ralph winced in pain.

The wince and pain from Ralph only fed Roger's wicked obsession. He smirked and glinted with a certain, indefinable joy. Roger's whole being emitted a sadist please as he placed another cut on the former chief.

Ralph closed his eyes in some hope that it would all end. That is when he felt a warm, moist feeling come across his chest. Letting one eye open, he saw the former choir boy's lips stained with blood. Ralph tried to push the crazed boy off of him and once again screamed for help, "Sam! Eric! Help me!"

Roger gave an annoyed groan, "Will you shut up?" Angrily, Roger placed a forced kiss on his victim's mouth. Letting his prepubescent tongue slip within Ralph's mouth, Roger felt euphoric, "You'll stay quiet now. Won't you?"

No reply was needed for Roger to determine that Ralph was his. All his. Covering Ralph's mouth with his own hand, Roger fed off of Ralph's muffled screams. It was beautiful to the island's resident sadist.

That's when Roger heard it. A moan. Ralph moaned. He was enjoying it. Roger spit on the others half-naked body, "You're disgusting. We're both guys." Taking back his spear, Roger placed it above Ralph's heart.

Five stab wounds. The first one killed him, but Roger loved the desperate screams of his victim. So macabre and stunning.

Roger marched to the beach, giving a light smile to the marine. A question was asked, to which Roger gave a troubled look, "It's horrible! Three people died!" False tears streamed down his face, but that was all he said. A comforting pat on the head was all Roger was given.

Within the burning forest stood a stick sharpened at both ends, in which the head of a certain chief was displayed as Roger's own trophy.