Hello everyone. This is a short story. It's not one shot cuz it's too long, but it's not going to be any more than three chapters. Before proceeding, remember that this is yaoi. Therefore, it contains male on male action and some really powerful lemons. Those are some awesome lemons. It's also an odd pairing, and I believe I'm one of the few to experiment with it. Most yaoi FMA fics these days are for Ed and Mustang. Mine holds a few anti-Mustang things. Don't get me wrong, I love Mustang. He is teh secks. I can't believe I just said that.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, it would not be fit for television, and random guy on guy humping would be common place. This is probably why I don't own FMA. I don't own any of these characters, only the loving way I describe them.
Note: Ed may act a little OOC sometimes; you'll have to forgive me. I don't seem to be very good at writing Ed. I am, however, quite easily able to write for Scar. I can't help it, he's my favourite. On with the damn story...
Scars Remind Us
A fan turned lazily, not helping the stale, smoky air. Everything there smelled of cigar smoke and everyone reeked of beer. All inside the small bar were unobtrusive to the scenery; they were normal and uninteresting. All, save for him. The one with the strange marks on his face. Beautiful burgundy eyes, flawless and tanned skin, and the pure aura of masculinity all made him worthwhile to look at.
He was muscled, yes, and indeed his eyes looked so cruel, it was as though the irises were made purely of some fallen victim's blood. His pale yellow jacket was slung over the rickety bar stool, blending in with the honey tones of the barroom. He took a drag on his cigarette.
Beneath those cold eyes were deep shadows and below his frowning lips was stubble. Damn, he felt like shit.
"Yo, Scar, you want another?" The bartender pointed to his empty glass. Scar swiped a fly out of his face and nodded, barely surfacing from his thoughts. What he really wanted was a good shower and a comfortable bed. Would he get them? No chance. There was no cozy home-sweet-home for Scar. His anger at the State and their anger at him kept him on his feet. Years of murdering, running, and blowing things apart were really starting to wear on him. He was becoming paranoid. But he would flat-out deny paranoia, saying he was simply terribly, terribly alert. Those eyes of his...they had seen far too many things for him to sleep at night.
He was pondering his next move—where to strike, and how? Who to take out? What was still left to win? But there was a bit of a problem. Lately he'd been having...urges.
Don't laugh. It was fucking annoying. Years of forced, albeit subconscious, celibacy had taken their toll. Lately he'd been feeling like he would fuck whatever moved. It was torture even to watch anyone attractive. And whenever he tried to plan his path, he always got sidetracked. Somehow his thoughts of death and destruction got transformed into horny desires.
He was certain this wasn't normal, and it was driving him insane. The bartender slid him another glass of bourbon, which he immediately downed half of. The Philosopher's Stone—that was the top priority. Or was it? Perhaps this whole concentrated journey was just for self-enlightenment, the satisfaction of doing things himself. And then there was the matter of vengeance for Ishbal. Those soldiers that destroyed his village would pay dearly. They killed so many innocents and ruined their homes. All the surviving Ishbalans were forced to live where they could, even a sewer in the city. Damn depressing.
Scar hurriedly finished his drink, paid, and left. Outside, he slipped on his coat. A light rain was falling, clouds blocking the sunset. You just had to remember that there was a sunset, everyday, even you couldn't see it. Scar's eyes closed wearily and he sighed, then stepped onto the street.
People were running about, trying not to get too wet. Automobiles whizzed by with that familiar slick tire sound. Scar found it comforting. The rain too was a comfort, dripping on his hot forehead. Hot hot hot. That's all he'd felt lately. It was as if something was cooking within him and at any minute would just EXPLODE.
He started walking, thick boots clomping heavily on the pavement. The lights of the bar reflected off the water on the ground and he could see his silhouette in it. Softly he ran a finger over the brand on his forehead, the strange faerie-type X. It always troubled him, but now he simply shook off the thoughts. Concentrate on what you've got to do, what you need, what you want. Looking at the sky, he quietly muttered "Ishbala..." Suddenly he ran into somebody and was broken of his spell.
Edward Elric had been deep in trance as well, brow furrowed about his 'little' brother Alphonse, who was having an identity crisis. It was no wonder he bumped into someone. But as soon as he saw who it was, he wished he was a mouse so he could scamper away. Now was not a good time for this kind of confrontation. "Scar!" he exclaimed. The older male raised an eyebrow, crimson eyes hardening. His square jaw clenched.
"Edward Elric-" he began, trying to sound rougher than he felt. But he stopped when he saw how worried short little Ed was.
The younger boy's golden eyes were sad, and wet strands of his bangs fell into them. Water dripped down his face, like tears, and small droplets clung to his eyelashes. His long blond hair, tucked into its usual braid, was dark with moisture and his clothes looked soaked. Pitiful, mournful. Those words ran through Scar's mind simultaneously.
It was almost breathtaking, really. Ed was a beautiful boy. Scar suddenly felt like an older brother, especially because he saw his mood mirrored on Ed and wanted to help.
Whoa, time out.
Since when did Scar give a shit about Edward Elric? They were enemies! Ed was a State alchemist! Those same people annihilated his beloved Ishbal! He felt very tired.
Ed was in shock, still feeling the impact of the man who was twice as large as him. He barely came up to Scar's chest. Ed couldn't help it when his eyes raked over that insanely muscled chest, which had just collided into him, lest he forget.
"Watch where you're going, Elric!" muttered the man finally. Ed could only nod. He was not feeling like himself today. He was just about to walk around Scar when out of nowhere the said man grabbed his wrist, tugging it in a way that say 'look at me!' Ed's honey eyes rose carefully up to meet the bloody irises that glared at him. The sudden movements and Scar's tightening grip on his wrist were rather...exciting, and a flush graced his face.
The moment was suspended in air. The steam of their breaths met in a slightly erotic way that was made even lustier by the rain falling around them. Scar suffered a brain lapse. What was he going to say?
"Uh, really kid, you better watch it or you might get hurt." Even the sinister undertones didn't hide the fact that he meant what he was saying.
"Yeah, sure," Ed answered breathily, now really thrilled. How sadistic of him. Get yourself together, Elric, he thought to himself, you've got Al to worry about and here you go, lusting after some psychotic Ishbalan who wants to kill you. Oh, but it was so hard to stay serious like this, so close to a man Ed had to admit was horribly sexy.
From here he could smell the liquor on Scar's breath and the sweat rolling off his skin. Magic. All he could do was stare, compelled, at the man's lips.
A while ago, he'd admitted that he felt something for this man, and he thought that he'd gotten over it. Guess not. Anyone with half a brain could tell there was constant sexual tension between them, and Ed, being at the proper age for raging hormones, couldn't help but play into it.
Scar let him go but was unable to tear his eyes away from the little golden boy who seemed transfixed with him. He started to walk off, and Ed called after him "Is that it?" as though expecting a fight or something. Scar turned around and glared at him.
"Edward Elric, you know full well that neither of us is in the mood for fighting. Run along before I change my mind." With that, he turned, and eventually melted off into the distance.
Ed felt over his wrist where just a minute ago Scar had grabbed him. He watched the man's back when he receded, appreciating the firm shoulders and rather nice ass. Oh yes, definitely sexy. Eventually he too headed off, feeling much better, head swimming with the scents of bourbon, cigar smoke, and Scar.
Scar tried not to think of the boy as he walked away. He knew Ed was still there, he could feel eyes boring into his back. An image of that blond boy flashed into his mind. I know what I want now.
Okay, that was short. It's probably the second shortest chapter. So anyway...go ahead on to chapter two. Yes yes it's already been posted.
