Sage X Sam special.
18++ ⚠⚠⚠
Sam pushed open the door, dripping from the storm, heart still thudding from the chaos outside. But what made it skip entirely was the shadow seated in his room, one leg crossed over the other, his posture unbothered — arrogant, even. As if he belonged here.
Sage.
Who else would dare?
Sam: "Sage?"
Sage: (without turning) "Ah. You came back?"
There was something in his voice — unreadable, dangerous. Sam's fingers curled at his sides. He didn't know why he felt like a thief caught red-handed, but he did. Maybe it was the blood. Maybe it was the guilt still fresh in his veins.
Sam: "It's pouring outside."
Sage: (slowly standing, eyes scanning him) "Was it rain… or was it blood that was pouring?"
Sam looked down. The red stains were clear under the light. Too fresh to be hidden. He didn't answer. Sam didn't know why but he felt fear for not heading Sage's word.
Sage: What did I say? To not get tangled up with that twisted boy.
Sage now with an unreadable expression, "And what did you do? Kill?
This one word "kill" vibrated in Sam's head. He almost forgot that he just came back killing people. His body now tainted with blood, shivering, remembering the thrill he felt while killing.
Sage's expression darkened. That's the one thing he didn't want Sam to feel. The thrill of killing. Once you kill, you can't go back to the past where you don't know the thrill.
Sage noticed that Sam started shivering. From the bloodlust, rain, and cold.
Sage took a step forward. Then another.
" You shouldn't have gotten involved with Jean."
Sam: And who the fuck are you to order me!?
Sam huffed knowing well what will come next. But he will never leave Jean alone to deal with those ghosts from the past. He will go again and again and again. Sam knows and so does Sage.
Sage didn't utter a word. His expression is getting furious and dark. And he commanded, "Strip."
Sam: (startled) "What?"
Sage: "You heard me. Unless you'd rather I do it for you."
(A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.)
Sam didn't know why… but he obeyed. As if he was hypnotized. Slowly, his fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. Sage's gaze followed every motion, heated, unblinking — like a lion watching prey undress.
One button. Two. The shirt slipped off his shoulders. Then the pants. Every piece of clothing removed felt like peeling away the lies he tried to wear as armor.
Now bare, vulnerable, exposed — Sam stood still.
Sage: "Crawl to me."
Sam froze.
Sage: " I won't repeat again . "
His voice was velvet laced with venom.
Sage: "Crawl."
Every part of Sam burned — with shame, with defiance, with something darker that he refused to name. But his knees hit the floor anyway. And he crawled.
When he reached him, Sage tilted his chin up.
Sage: "Good boy."
The praise wasn't gentle. It was claiming. Like a brand.
He leaned down, brushing a kiss over Sam's forehead, deceptively soft — before his fingers fisted into Sam's damp hair.
Sage: "You chose blood over obedience tonight," he murmured. "I should remind you who you belong to"
Sam's voice wavered, low but defiant. "I didn't know I belonged to anyone."
Wrong answer.
Sage yanked him up and crushed their mouths together — biting, breath-stealing, claiming. Sam gasped into it, skin still wet from the rain, Sage's clothes rough against his bare body, sending electric shivers up his spine.
Sage's hands roamed — not just with lust, but hunger for control. Fingers dug into Sam's hips, then climbed his spine like they were committing every inch to memory.
Sage (a growl): "You'll know it now. I want you to remember this — remember me."
He pushed Sam onto the bed, pinning him down, his palm pressing just above Sam's heart — firm, possessive, burning. Their eyes locked.
And the desire unleashed. Sam's eyes do something to Sage that he himself doesn't know. It didn't take a second to enter Sam. As his hole was soft from their morning actions. But Sam was gasping air, " Ah.. Ahh.. Ahh.. Agh.!!
" S.. Slo.. Slow.. Sa.. Sage. "
" Ahh.. Agh."
" Your hole is so soft. As if welcoming me to release my seeds into you. "
Sam whimpered. The cold, shivering and dizziness is getting him good.
Sage growled, " Ah. "
Sage thrusted his full length in one go. Which shook Sam's whole body. Again tearing his hole.
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
"Say it," Sage demanded. "Say you're mine."
Sam was not in his right mind. He doesn't know what Sage is saying. Lost in pleasure. Just screaming and moaning. Filling the air with their groans.
Sage again demanded while thrusting him deep, " Say."
Sam's breath trembled as he whimpered, "…I'm yours."
The words set something off in Sage — not just desire, but a primal desperation. He lowered himself, kissing the underside of Sam's jaw, the bruises on his throat, the scar on his chest. With each kiss, he whispered low threats wrapped in promises: "Only I get to see you like this. Only I get to hear you like this. You don't breathe for anyone else but me. You. Are. Mine."
_________
The morning light seeped in through the blinds, pale gold brushing against the chaos they'd left behind — rumpled sheets, discarded clothes, the faint scent of rain and sweat still clinging to the room.
Sam stirred under the blanket, muscles aching, throat dry. He blinked slowly, disoriented… and then remembered everything. The crawling. The commands. The way Sage had consumed him with heat, force, and hunger.
His breath caught.
That's when he felt it — a hand, large and warm, stroking slowly down his belly. Possessive. Unrelenting. Comforting in a way that frightened him more than the night before. And that's when he felt, not only his hands, but his penis too, which is still buried inside him.
Sage was still inside him; he didn't take it out. The hands that were stroking his belly are bloating with Sage's cum. It hurts. But the cum didn't leak because of Sage's penis that is residing in him as if the hole belongs to that thing. Sam gasped again, for air. His skin flushed.
"You're awake," Sage said softly, voice still laced with sleep but no less sharp. Sam didn't move. Couldn't.
"Do you hurt?" Sage asked, hand now cupping Sam's waist, drawing him close. "Speak."
Sam moaned and tried to speak but words were not coming from his mouth, his throat still sore from night. He managed to whisper.
"…A little," Sam admitted, his voice a rasp.
Sage made a low sound in his throat. Not pity — never that — but something darker, something that sounded like ownership tangled with guilt.
"Good," he muttered, pressing his lips to the back of Sam's neck. "Means you'll remember me."
Sam tensed slightly.
Sam: Why didn't you take it out? It's too much.
He said while placing his hand on top of Sage's hand that's stroking his belly.
Sage didn't like the question.
He rolled Sam over with firm hands and hovered above him, his stare cold and unblinking for a moment before softening. One of his thumbs brushed over a faint bruise on Sam's collarbone, then lower — tracing every red mark he'd left. He smoothly kissed the belly button that's bloated. Sam gasped again.
"I shouldn't have let you crawl last night," he said suddenly, too quiet. "But you obeyed so well, Sam. You make it hard to stop."
Sam's eyes met his, unsure whether to feel flattered or afraid.
Sage leaned down and kissed him — slower this time. Gentle, almost reverent. Then he pressed his forehead against Sam's and whispered, "You belong to me now. That body. That mouth. That heartbeat. Mine."
Sam opened his mouth to argue — maybe just a joke, a protest. But Sage shut it with another kiss, deeper this time. One that didn't ask. One that sealed things.
"I'll draw you a bath," Sage said finally, getting up, but not before lifting Sam up. Sage is still inside Sam. Sam circled his legs around Sage's waist.
" Ahh!! No.. No.. This position. It's hitting too deep. Ahh! "
" Isn't it good? You can feel me even deeper. "
Sage carried him to the bathroom. The bathroom was warm, steam curling up from the already-prepared tub. Sage entered with him still in his arms and gently set Sam on top of him.
Sam moaned, scratching Sage's back, making it bleed.
" Didn't you say you'll draw me a bath? I thought you'll help me get cleaned?"
" Am I not helping? "
And just then Sam moaned again. Sage growled too. Sage again cummed inside him. Making it even more filled.
" You're supposed to clean my insides. Not fill my insides more. "
" And your reactions are not helping. "
Sam kissed him. No, devoured Sage's lips. Hungry and lustly. Sage fought back. Trying to win the dominance. And Sage won. While thrusting Sam. Making the bath water spilled on the marble floor. The air and water filled with their moans and semen smell. Sam smirked. He knows he already gave his heart and body away to this monster. And muttering, " You are mine too. " While he yanked Sage's hair. Sage gave a mischievous smile and again devoured Sam's breath. Whispering to himself, " Mine. "