Gunpowder: Chapter Seven
Disclaimer: I do not own Greed, Kimblee or any of FullMetal Alchemist. I OWN TONYA! She's all mine!
Author's Note: Geeze, I'm taking way too damn long. Well, sorry for thelong awaited update. I had the STate Science Fair for Texas. Didn't win a single thing, which sucks, but I got to stay in this really nice hotel in San Antonio and my school paid for it! Now I've got the stupid TAKS tests next week, so my mum is basically banning my computer from me so I can have time to study. I'm having relationship problems and I'm so damn tired... BUT HERE! If you want the actual... heated version of the sex scene, email me at the emails that are listed on my user page.
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING: THERE ISSOMEWHAT OF ALEMON IN THIS CHAPTER! WARNING! some sex... nothing graphic...
ANNOUNCEMENT: This is an edited version of the actual hardcore lemon that I wrote. If you want the complete, sexy and downright dirty smut piece, email me (the email is in my profile) and I'll get it to you as soon as possible.
Kiddies, this story has just lived up to its title of being lemon.
LAST
(((( He didn't want to admit that Archer's offer was something to think about. Not when he was rather content here in the Devil's Nest living with the chimeras and Greed. But, he didn't want to admit that Greed meant more to him than being given control and free reign back in the military where killing people was job.
He slowly got up and made his way down the stairs into the lower levels were his room he shared with Greed was. Stopping in front of the dark wooden door, the torch light next to his head and his dark blue hair loose around his smooth and lean face, he hesitated before opening the door.
He raised his hand to knock, but, realizing that it was fruitless to knock on the door of your own room, he laughed to himself and reached for the doorknob. The metal turned before he touched it and then it pulled open and he was looking into the tanned and curious face of Greed.
"I was wondering when you'd be back." ))))
NOW
Kimblee was still for a moment, his hand still raised from where he was about to knock on the door. Greed gave him a curious grin and opened the door wider.
"Are you just going to stand there looking like a fish?" The homunculus said in a teasing voice and Kimblee shook himself out of the trance, walking past him and towards his cot where he basically collapsed upon it.
Greed looked at the alchemist in confusion as he gently closed the door behind him and walked to his own bed, the loose black sweatpants falling around his feet and making his tanned skin oddly pale. Kimblee suddenly doubled over, coughing painfully and pounding his chest.
"Kimblee?" Greed asked moving over to the alchemist. Kimblee just waved his hand in nonchalance.
"It's nothing." He muttered and kicked his boots off. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do was curl up on his bed surrounded by a certain warmth named Greed.
The alchemist shot up at that thought and blinked multiple times. Now where had THAT thought come?
Greed looked at Kimblee as he sank on the mattress next to him. Leaning foreword so just his breath ghosted over pale and beautiful skin, he whispered quietly, "What are you thinking about my beautiful alchemist? Possibly what we had been doing earlier?" He murmured and his hand gently caressed the inside of Kimblee's thigh, strong fingers rubbing the sensitive skin.
Gulping silently and slowly sliding away from Greed, Kimblee looked at him nervously. Greed then moved foreword and within a flash of a second was above the alchemist, legs on either side of his waist and arms pressed into the mattress next to either side of his head.
"Greed!" Kimblee snarled, his eyes a little angry and with just the beginnings of lust stirring in the depths. "Get off!" Greed just grinned sideways and leaned down claiming the others lips with ferocity.
He pried open the clenched pale lips and drove his tongue in, tasting gunpowder and scotch in every little crease of the others mouth. Kimblee gave a surprised moan and arched his back up, feeling one of Greed's hands still creeping up his torso, skipping his rapidly hardening erection.
Kimblee ran his hands across the smooth and thickly muscled back, his tongue now tentatively trailing around Greed's. But as a hand that quickly morphed into claws sliced through the black undershirt and left tatters of black cloth on the bed, Kimblee gripped his hands in Greed's hair, twisting his head slightly to shoot his tongue past shark-teeth to give a whole new meaning to the phrase, "Tickling Ones Tonsils."
Greed moaned as Kimblee sliced the edge of his tongue and blood dribbled into the homunculus' mouth, acting as a aphrodisiac. Kimblee groaned as Greed sucked on the bleeding appendage and suddenly his suit pants were a tad too tight.
Greed smirked, feeling the evident pulse of his actions pressing against his hard stomach. He pulled his head back and smirked before trailing bites and wet sucks down a side of Kimblee's neck, the other hands pulling at the belt that held the pants up.
Kimblee groaned as his erection was suddenly freed and his hands pressed at the array at the nape of Greed's neck. Twin groans were released from both of them and the heady adrenaline high that Kimblee had been experiencing just from the arousal spiked to unimaginable heights as power upon the tons was forced through his veins, making his skin super-sensitive.
Sex was not romantic. It was rough, messy and more often than not, painfully. But Kimblee was forced to go along with the ride he was more than happy to pay for. Greed's hands were everywhere; his hips, his ass, his cock… His lips left marks that would show for days and claws were scratching over gentle spots that left him moaning in masochistic pleasure.
His tattoos activated the arrays, bringing them into an orchestrated version of the sharp and loud orgasm that rocked both of them, tongues battling and hands wandering.
Kimblee groaned at the feeling and Greed slowed, pulling out and collapsing next to the alchemist on the silk sheets.
Kimblee barely had the chance to protest when Greed pulled him into his arms, but when Greed started to lick at the bite he had left on Kimblee's neck, the alchemist just gave a little murmur of approval, or disapproval, he didn't know, but he didn't stop him from continuing.
Upstairs, in the bar, Martel was sitting at the bar, drinking softly and resting her chin on her palm, watching Dorchette practice in the closed down bar.
"Dorchette? What will happen when we can't stay here with Greed-san, anymore?" She asked, swirling her scotch around, keeping to herself that she was drinking from Kimblee's personal stash.
Dorchette stopped and his sword slid down to rest on the ground. He looked lost in thought before he resumed his katas. "I don't know Martel. Haven't really thought about it. I mean, he rescued us and brought us here. What's going to happen here? As far as we know, Greed's got Kimblee's tight military ass wrapped around his finger."
Martel tried to get the suddenly disturbing images of Kimblee and Greed out of her head. And the fact that she had heard them fucking through the floors, wasn't helping with the riddance of the images, either.
"But what if something does go wrong? What do we do then?" She pressed on, setting her glass down to watch him intently.
Dorchette looked at her tiredly. "Look, Martel. We're going to be fine. And if anything does happen, remember, we have Greed on our side. He won't let anything happen to his chimeras."
She frowned and swirled her scotch again. Yeah, there's that. But what if it's Kimblee who screws up? Greed won't be able to face him like that. Not when Greed knows much more with Kimblee than anyone else.
Thunder crashed outside and Martel shivered involuntarily, reading into the thunder too much as an omen.
- - - - - - - -
In the Southern Headquarters, Military Dorms, room 224, Lt. Col. Frank Archer sat on his bed, shirt untucked and jacket thrown over the hard military wood chair. His gun sat in pieces in front of him as he cleaned it of the dust that had accumulated in it from the day's excursions outside.
His mind kept flicking back to the alchemist he had offered his proposal to. Zolf J. Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist. To have a legendary alchemist such as that would move him up the ranks and almost guarantee him a spot in the exposition that would go into Lior. He knew the uprising was happening and was almost happy for any excuse for way.
He stretched his legs out, yawning as he put the barrel and gun lock back together, making a satisfying click. He looked over at his alarm clock and hit it, setting it to at least an earlier time than normal.
He would actually like to get up in time to eat something the next morning.
As he flicked the lights off and climbed beneath the thick cotton sheets, his mind flicked to golden eyes and fiery explosions.
There! SORRY! IT TOOK TOOOOO LONG! Remember, if you want the unrated version, email me! Or PM me with your email address! I'll get it to you as soon as possible!