Author's Note: A random drabble, overwhelmed with passion, jealousy, lust, anger and hate. JackRalphRoger. Forgive the awkward lapses between the paragraphs.

Disclaimer: Wags finger

Secrets

The sharp, venomous tip of a spear a hair's breadth from his throat. Ralph swallowed gently; chest heaving, body convulsing with raging fear. He was open, completely vulnerable at the mercy of the hunter before him, whose face bore a savage leer, streaked with dirty paint. Red, black, blue, green-

For a moment, Ralph felt like a little innocent boy again, cornered by looming school bullies, being sneered, taunted and mocked at. Only that this was different. A quick forward thrust of the spear could change his circumstances wholly. No more pain. No more hiding. No more fear. But he wasn't prepared for it.

Then the tears came.

Having been controlled, imprisoned, stifled for as long as he could remember, they came tumbling down clumsily, landing with a soft 'plop' on the white sand.

The spear trembled for a fleeting second, and then withdrew ever so slowly.

Ralph's eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced up, half-tearful and half-relieved. The hunter bore an unreadable expression on his face as he scrutinized Ralph intensely, making him squirm uncomfortably on the inside.

Then, without warning, Ralph, who was swimming in and out of consciousness, heard the hunter snap his fingers; and then the taut, aching pressure of the thick ropes binding him brought quiet, pleading whimpers which were promptly ignored. The feeling of rough, calloused hands lifting him bodily off the ground was the last thing he was aware of before darkness enveloped him.

Ralph shivered, not from cold; as he hugged himself tightly, mind still swimming with those vivid images. How long ago had that been, and yet nothing had eradicated that particular memory from him. He never ceased to amaze himself.

A sharp, acute noise brutally shoved him back to reality, causing him to swivel around from the grey stone wall. The twilight which Ralph had always thought of as beautiful and alluring now only succeeded in highlighting the eerie silhouette of a dark, furtive figure bearing a menacing presence, and Ralph's insides twisted with displeasure, fear and anticipation.

A pregnant silence later, Ralph found his voice and questioned sharply.

"What are you doing here? I seem to recall Jack saying that nobody could lope in at his own pleasure, not even his second-in-command." At this, Roger's eyes glittered ferociously and he inched forward, ever so slowly. Ralph, noticing the snake-like actions, let terror wash over him as he stepped back, only to feel cold stone against his skin.

"Getting all conceited, are we? What is this, the Chief's pet?" Roger grinned in a knowing way that disturbed Ralph.

Shadows hiding us, nobody's watching us, chiding us. It's time to let go

"Whatever gave you that idea? Stop being a nuisance and get out of here before Jack returns." Ralph snapped, averting his eyes to a far corner.

In the green, green twilight, hands and tongues run in forbidden, sweet places

"Looks like someone's all hot and bothered. I wouldn't happen to be telling the truth, would I?"

Ralph held his tongue, afraid to speak and give anything away. It was terrible, important knowledge nobody should know except-

Limbs entwine in an intimate, unmentionable fashion

"Now, now, the Chief is out hunting solo. Is his pet lonely? Maybe we can have some fun while he's gone, yes?" Smirking, Roger walked towards Ralph, pinning him with an intense, wild look. That of an insane, psychotic savage. Ralph froze in fear, unable to scream. No, no, Roger couldn't, wouldn't dare-

A pair of lips slammed harshly against his own, and large hands wrapped tightly around him, so that escape was unthinkable. Then, to Ralph's horror, a thick, hot, foreign object was in his mouth, passionately dancing and exploring, delving deeper into him.

Nobody must ever know of us; oh, the intoxicating, addictive pleasure

Ralph hated it. He felt violated, bereft of his dignity. And to lose it to such a monster…

Instinctively, Ralph bit down, hard, and to his satisfaction, drew blood from Roger's tongue. Roger let him go for a moment to wipe his bleeding mouth with his hand, and let out a rapid string of profanities and snarls that would have appalled any British boy back in the world of civilization. Ralph cleverly seized this opportunity to flee, away from this…this mess, but Roger's reflexes were faster. In a matter of seconds, Ralph found himself on the cold ground, head ringing from a merciless blow; and Roger's face an inch from his own, rancid breath choking him.

"Don't try that, pet. The chief wouldn't like to see his beloved one gone, would he? And besides, I'm not done with you yet." With that, Ralph felt those calloused, cold hands feeling him, running all over him, to the most forbidden, intimate places only one other had ventured before…

His pleading moans were cut off completely as Roger slammed his mouth against his own, sucking, biting and pulling like an animal; meanwhile stealing him hungrily, fervently all at once…

"ROGER!" A deep voice bellowed behind them. Roger immediately jerked and stood up, unfazed, even moving to lean casually against the wall.

"Greetings, chief."

Then, before any of them knew it, Roger was pressed up against the wall, the tip of Jack's spear hovering ever so dangerously at his throat. A feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed Jack and Ralph as they simultaneously relieved that memory from so long ago. Only that now, Roger was the one in a precarious situation, and Ralph felt a tiny jolt of sadistic pleasure, much to his surprise.

"You fucked up, thieving bastard." Jack was gritting his teeth, gnashing out words as he spoke. He had never been so angry before, not even when the others had voted for Ralph, and not him as Chief. "Ralph's mine, and nobody is to touch him as he wishes, not even you. If you ever dare to do this again, I will personally have you hunted down myself."

All was silent then, and Roger eased the tension with a nonchalant scowl, as he gave a quick jerk of his head, and pushed the spear aside, shooting Ralph a malevolent glance as he exited into the starry night.

As soon as Roger had gone out of sight, Jack threw the spear aside and walked over to Ralph, who was staring silently into space.

"Why did you do it? Why did you let him in?" Jack questioned in a quiet, tight voice unlike his own. Ralph felt tears prickling his eyes; Jack didn't trust him, Jack was accusing him.

"I didn't. He just came in, and…and did it all…"

"You belong to me, and nobody else can touch you. Nobody, not even him. If he tries anything, just…just stand up to him! What happened to your strength, Ralph!"

"You don't know how it feels like! He was so strong, too strong! I feel…I don't…I hate it!" Ralph cried out, unable to hold on any longer. Jack was being unexpectedly cruel tonight, refusing to empathize with him, even taunting him. He began trembling visibly, producing muffled, broken sobs, and turned away from Jack, shutting him out altogether.

Jack, realizing his mistake, swore inwardly. He had let his own failings overwhelm him again. He was so possessive of Ralph, so over-protective that he had failed to see what his right-hand man had unashamedly done to Ralph. Sometimes, he felt like kicking himself.

Suddenly stooping down to wrap his arms around Ralph gently, with warmth, he whispered softly in Ralph's ear, "I'm sorry, love. I didn't try to understand, but now I do. Don't worry about him anymore; I'll deal with him. As soon as it gets light." At first, Ralph shivered and inclined his head to face the other side, purposely refusing to meet Jack's soft glance. Sighing, Jack firmly tilted Ralph's chin to face him, and the moment both pairs of eyes – one a fiery azure and the other a soft brown – locked, Ralph broke down, and buried his head into Jack's neck, to seek the familiar sense of security, warmth and love.

Jack stared into the space in front of him and he stroked Ralph's head tenderly. There were many things he had to do. But for now, it was just the both of them.


Constructive criticism would be good. Flames, if you insist, will be graciously accepted. That's all that there's to it and have a good life (: