Title: Honey for the Queen
Author: Kirschli Kuchen
Players: Roy Mustang; Edward Elric
Disclaimer: Please insert something witty here that tells that I don't own the characters and the original anime/manga/game.
Counter: 646
He bought the cup of flesh and bones to his lips and drunk till there was no drop left, until he consumed everything and it was ripped off his wrist.
The skeleton churned and grew. And grew and grew and grew. Flesh stretched and ripped and hurt some more as arm and arm came together to be as whole as leg and chest as maybe leg. It blurred and escaped. And and and it became so much more.
Red fled the lips and landed on the floorboards between dirt and unmentionables. Whimpers and other noises played hide and seek and turned to whispers of music in ears.
An unmoving eye blinked up and tried to see behind its boundaries with much avail as green came to orange and white and pink and oh-so much of it.
The broken gramophone played mildly in the background as a hand reached out to touch his cheek.
Are you alright?, came the soft whisper from above and a stroke caught golden hair in its wake.
Yes, of course, what did you think?, the same voice spouted in a much more agitated tone.
I didn't really.
Another hand yanked on black and bought their heads inches apart.
I know. he said, levelly staring at him lips pressed, tightly sewed shut.
Threads don't suit you, an insistent tugging on the blackish-red driven through his mouth backhanded away.
We can't, they'd know. They'd come to. a ragged ruin of sentences cut short by pressed lips on lips.
Hands fisted in blue – or was it white? – fabric.
Don't do this to me. a whisper through locked mouths, hands that didn't push but grabbed and clawed and closer-
Flesh on flesh, no metal, no rubber or plastic or fake skin. An unaccustomed body trying to adjust. Legs too long, arms too soft and still they were getting there.
R-roy- his own voice in needy, false falsetto – the turn-on of the year.
They were going down no doubt. And the noises were being childish again.
The afterimage vanished from his eye as the burning blackened orb tore the sky.
The projection of the most beautiful thing was still there. Sewn up broken remnants of what once were-
A muttered moan broke sleepily from his lips.
Roy? Get back here, it's chilling down. the minx said and smiled a sly smile, dreamily resting head on hand.
Red dripped down and mixed with the white and brown already there.
He still didn't.
Legs moved as if on strings and a hand rubbed down his face.
Missed me already? the typical mock and smirk, not their normal game.
Please? a pout and incredulity and venom, he always did the mixing well.
A wholeness spread from his chest as the plead was uttered from alien lips hanging on a wall. Askew and crooked but still undeniably his. The day was starting to get lighter and death began to weasel itself into their small cabin of happiness.
Let me stay. not a plea nor a question, not quite clear who uttered it. It went unanswered. They both knew anyway.
A shrug and rustle later, a hidden underground doorway was opened.
Stay here. Don't move a muscle. Go down that way and take the second one from right then the forty-fifth. A quick press from body and softness. A faint whisper and straightened posture later he ran and ran and ran and the other stayed and went up and covered their tracks again for they were and have always been one and the same and sewed lips chuckled mirthlessly and without sound.
Death was drawn in a corner staring back at him - a remnant of last night no doubt.
A hand ruffled through black-blonde hair as there was rumbling and tumbling some paces back nor forward and honey echoed in the air.
Don't leave me behind.
A symphony of honey words.