Rain, of course it was raining, his life was one dark shadow. He walked the road less taken, followed, no, stalked by some pitiful rain cloud. It waited for him to smile, then opened up its hollow core and dumped pain and suffering down upon his head. As if he hadn't dealt with enough. He was too hurt to even manage anger, too dumbfounded to realize where he was or where he had been going. His body ached, mind plagued with images of some poor deformed soul, some creature who's life he had just ended. Now he was left with nothing more then a guilty conscience and a desperate need for the philosophers stone.

"Why can't things ever work out the way I want them too…?" Ed asked the sky, his head tilting back as waves of rain droplets slid over his forehead, lost amidst a forest of golden blond tresses. "Why can't it all just stop…" came an exasperated moan. The world was spinning too fast it seemed. His eyes cast upon the sky it felt as if he could feel it turn upon its axis and it was making him feel disgustingly small.

No one cared anymore, no one cared ever, who was he kidding!

Colonel Mustang the heartless bastard didn't care that he had sent Ed into the vipers den. He didn't care that that his heart was breaking, he didn't care; he just didn't care!
God, all Edward wanted to do was scream to the devil in the depths of hell. His body ached all over. Even the automail seemed painfully heavy. His whole body dragging beneath the weight of a water logged coat which clung to his lithe frame. All he wanted was someone to wrap their arms around him, shadow the cold and darkness with a blanket of warmth. Was there anyone out there who cared enough to protect his soul from the madness of growing up?

Maybe that was the problem; he was still so very much a child, as much as he'd hated to admit it. Maybe it was the childish aspirations of being mature, of saving lives that made all this hurt so much more. He'd been naively hoping on some ghost of a prayer that the world wasn't as dark and dismal as the adults had made it out to be. That alchemists didn't use their gift to hurt others, that people didn't actually want to hurt one another and it was all just some big misunderstanding. How could life get so twisted?

Quietly Ed managed on. His footsteps came through the silence in an echo of hollow sounds. It was comforting to know he was still human, despite the ghostly air which lingered upon every movement he made. He didn't feel alive anymore; he was just a husk, a shell of a human wandering the earth with no real purpose.

Purpose had been lost somewhere between his return to central and his meeting with Mustang, now left a being so lost that color was confusing. Within his narrow line of view, nothing more then black and white made sense when the entire world was grey.

"You look lost…"

Edward turned upon his heel as he found himself at the gaping mouth of a dark alleyway.

She led him away from the cold, away from the hurt, her hands warm as she groped and grabbed in a maddening attempt to free him from all restraints. She was soft, careful in her caresses, her mature hold upon him choking the air from his lungs.

This had been what he'd wanted though, wasn't it? He wanted someone to place their arms around him, hold him tight to their chest.

Her heart beat echoed within his ear as she drew his cheek against her rain kissed chest. His soft warm flesh bitten bitterly by the sting of cold which enveloped her body, how could she stand it? How could she be so cold and not care?

Edward hated feeling cold, he hated the feeling of bitterness it left him with. Like his life-force was being stolen away, stripped from his body. It was like death, tormenting him with its knowing presence, like being rapped of all that made you human; possessed by some asinine desire to eliminate your own existence.

Cold reminded him of death, a creature he tempted far too continue such childish games.

Why then was her touch, so warm when the emotion within her heart had all but died out. Ed felt it, her heart beat against his cheek, the steady thump taunting him. She was calm, collected, knew what she was doing, and he was her pathetic wanton sheep. She promised to make him feel and he gladly accepted, only a mere idea of what was to follow flickering beneath juvenile fantasies.

She'd acted quickly; he felt the solid form of a mattress pressed against the back of his knees. Where they were was beyond his recollection, but it didn't matter. He was placed upon his backside in a matter of minutes, his body pressed against the pliant mattress of what he now knew to be her bed. The surface smelt of jasmine and rose, a scent capturing his senses as his head rocked to the side, cheek pressed against the silken fabric of her bed cover.

She stood over him a moment, wiggling about, gone from his line of vision as the cold from the outside melted within his stomach, or at least, what he thought was his stomach. Her fingertips ghosted over his thighs, delicately stroking down upon his knee through the damp leather which clung to his body, suffocating something within his lower region.

"My dear, we need to get you out of these clothes and warmed up," It felt as if it were his first time really hearing her voice, soft and sickeningly sweet as she toyed with the buttons and loops of his belt. Her finger tips were warm again, prying away the thick leather which kept his pants firmly secure at his hip. He'd often had trouble managing passed his thighs when wet, but his lower half felt increasingly bare in a matter of moments. Warm air bit at his calves, her fingertips stroking gently up the backs of his legs, around and up the side of his thighs, avoiding the area of his body he seemed to want her attention on the most.

A breath hitched within his throat as manicured nails scratched up his sides, trailing away beneath his shirt. The wet material, with help from him, became discarded on the floor in a matter of seconds, leaving Edward in nothing more then a damp pair of powder blue boxers.

He wasn't sure how this was supposed to get him warm again. His skin had been coated in dampness, hair sticking on end despite the warm air about the room. If anything he was colder now then he had been before.

Suddenly, the mattress gave way beneath the weight of another body. His attention fell to her form looming over him, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hip. Somewhere between their arrival and his undressing, she had managed out of her street clothes and into something that appeared almost pointless in its transparent appearance. Ed watched in amazement, his eyes lining every aspect of her body, slipping down from the curves of her neck to where her torso and arm met. It was beautifully human, pale flesh meeting pale flesh, no steel bolts or metal barings, plates or grease, just human flesh. As his eyes continued on the black lining of her undergarments peeked his curiosity causing a stir of interest from somewhere hidden beneath the only article of clothing he had left. Her shape was perfect, slow dipping curves, thin taut waist compelling Edward to place his hands upon it, oh he wanted to touch.

She giggled as he did so, her fingertips setting to work, tracing soft designs against his torso. "You've never done this before…" she observed softly, resting her bottom atop Ed's thighs, her warmth slowly engulfing his lower region.

The boy merely blushed and nodded his head. He tried to relax but found himself lost beneath the weight and warmth her body had to offer. He could only imagine the ways in which this whole ordeal would work out. She could laugh at him, push him aside and withhold the warmth he needed so desperately. She could cling to him, her need as desperate as his, though the likeliness of a grown woman actually needing him seemed quite far fetched. Maybe she'd take pity, ease him into this, allow him to bask in the warmth of her body, let him cling and cry if he needed. Maybe she'd be his salvation in the wake of all the darkness.

"It's ok…" her breathing quite and even as his chest began to heave with strenuous breath. Was he really ready for this?

It was hardly the time to second guess himself, hardly the time to back out of this now. She was a top him, perched, a bird of prey watching as her catch squirmed beneath her deathly ministrations. Nothing but the soft whisper of the sheets beneath him made him full aware how trapped he was. How desperate he was to do something, to move, to touch… He needed to do something otherwise he was libel to loose his mind.

Carefully his hand rose from her side, slipping up and over the expanse of her flat tummy. A curious and strained motion which elicited a sly grin from his partner in crime, "No, here…" she whispered softly, her fingers grabbing for his, leading them far from the path in which they traveled. He felt her need as she tugged on his arm, ignoring the automail appendages as she forced his fingers into the damp patch between her legs. "See..." she let out a breathy whisper, leaving his fingers to figure out what it was they were supposed to do as she stalked up and over him. Her hips raised some, allowing a cool burst of air to gust passed his growing erection housed beneath painfully damp boxers. He felt her chest graze against his as her lips caught a small area of flesh just proximal to his collarbone.

"I bet you're sensitive there too…" she whispered softly, her hands working beyond his vision to cup the base of his semi hardened cock, her fingertips working gently against the flesh beneath.

It felt strange; her hand quickly moving passed the barrier of protection that, that thin cloth had provided him. She was slow and soft in her movements, thumb brushing over the engorged head before she worked on his shaft, quietly pumping with the faintest twist of her wrist.

God it felt strange, but good, his own hands following suit, slipping passed the fabric which now seemed pointless in its dampened state to the slick wet flesh beneath. It took everything within him not to turn up his nose, the feeling of warm moisture enveloping his fingers as he ran his index along the crease he had discovered. It was gross, sloppy, like being licked by a dogs tongue. But she whimpered, her breath against his neck, lips trailing soft butterfly kisses up and along his jaw line. "Put them in…" she moaned, capturing his lips before he could so much as protest.

Hadn't warmth been what he had desired, wasn't this another form of warmth? Anything was better then feeling cold again, anything was better then the bitter loneliness which stood outside the door waiting for him with open arms, even this…

Carefully, allowing his fingers to explore the warmth between her legs, cataloging the vast difference his own sex, Edward allowed a single finger to breach the barrier. Warm flesh surrounded him, soft moist walls so different from anything he'd ever felt in his life.

"More, more…" she seemed to moan breaking the contact their lips had made. He couldn't move but for the strained flexion of his wrist and fingers, delving two more fingers deep into her tunnel of moist flesh.

She seemed to enjoy it, wriggling around over top of him, pressing her thumb against the head of his cock as she ground her hips down against his hand. He felt the warmth breach down onto his knuckle, threatening his whole hand as he gasped in shock and confusion.

Suddenly something felt wet, something of his as her fingers began to massage the slick substance all over his length. He opened his mouth to question, but was silenced as her tongue invaded his mouth, robbing him of speech. She seemed to grow impatient, almost rough as Ed gasped and stifled a moan, forcing their lips apart. The more she moved, the more he hated it. The more disgusted with himself he felt.

His mind wandered back to when he was a child, so very, very young. He could remember, late one night, woken from a nightmare, he tiptoed to his parent's room where he stumbled upon the most awkward display of love he had ever seen. His father seemed to smother his mother, his mouth upon hers as his arms drew her close. He could barely make out the movements beneath half discarded sheets, but they seemed to be connected in some odd display of affection. As Edward grew older, fascinated by the sounds his mother had made, the way in which pain looked to become enjoyable, he learned of sex and such other acts of intimacy.

When his mother was sad, he wondered if it was because his father's body would no longer connect with hers. He wondered how someone so alone could feel that way again; if she'd find someone else to hurt her so much she enjoyed it.

This feeling wasn't pain though, it wasn't pleasure either. It was awkward and strange. He felt the gentle touch become an almost tugging. He felt the burn of her fist wrapped around his cock almost too much to bear.

Then she was moving again. Her hips shifted, drawing away from the young mans fingers. Edward was left at a loss for what to do, the wetness almost cold around his now slimy digits as his hand lie against the bed sheets. She was determined in her motions, sifting her weigh into a seated and upright position, hovering over Ed's weeping erection. Suddenly, the same warmth which invaded his hand was now focused solely upon his lower region. Ed's eyes burst open, when he had closed then he wasn't sure, and what he saw caused his heart to race. There she was, this women of whom he'd known no more then hours, was lowering herself onto his traitorous penis. She steadied the base with one hand, holding to the side sex soaked panties with the other. She wasn't even bothering to take off the rest of her clothes.

Where was the warmth?

His pelvis ached as that same moist cavern of flesh he had felt around his fingers swallowed him whole. She didn't ease him into it either. The tip slipped through and then it was all over. She thrust herself don upon him, causing the poor boy to buck and cry out. His head pressed back against rose scented pillows hair splayed out in a disheveled braid as he groped pathetically at the sheets.

Oh gods, he didn't want this, he didn't want this at all, this warmth was the devil, it was burning, it was hell on earth. Slowly she began to rock her hips, moving around in a gyrating motion at first. God she had to stop. His stomach burned, a systemic numbness taking control. This needed to stop. He wanted to scream but his vocal cords seemed to constrict in protest. Even the slightest breath hurt, dragging in through his lungs like razorblades.

Maybe if he just closed his eyes real tight and waited for it to be over, he would survive this barbaric display of animal need. Maybe if he just let her finish… but no…

His traitorous body thrust forwards burying himself deep within her as she began to bob, bouncing recklessly a top him. The burning in his stomach grew worse and worse as his body began to act on its own. Perspiration glistened upon his forehead and across his chest as he tossed his head to the side, pressing his cheek flat against the sheets. Something was building up deep within, something was boiling threatening to burst through and break him. He didn't want this, to break meant that this was enjoyable on some scale of the word, and it wasn't. Still his body arched in a perfect arc, hips pressing his erected length deep within the devils chasm.

His mind slipped off towards other things, hoping to suffocate the throbbing ache. Mustang, he did this all the time, didn't he? Mustang, was he this sort of pussy? Did he want to cry every time a woman rode him? Or was he more like Edward's father? Somehow the thoughts seemed to calm him, arousing something deep within the pit of his stomach all the same. As he rocked, Edward pictured Roy pleasuring a woman, a woman who looked oddly like his mother. Roy's fluid movements, the way his arms wrapped around her body, holding her close against his strong comforting chest. The women slowly became a blonde haired male, Roy's body attached to the others in a manner in which Edward couldn't seem to wrap his mind around.
Behind veiled eyes he could see Roy slowly thrusting his hips, pounding his length deep into the body of his young subordinate. Was he fantasizing about the Colonel taking him as a lover?

Somehow the thought was a little more pleasing, a little more… warm.

Gods that was what he wanted, he wanted that warmth, the tender loving warmth that Edward was so sure the Colonel would exude. It didn't matter the pain, the pitiful looks the Flame Alchemist gave him, or how insanely angry Edward might have been with the man, nothing was worse then this. Ed was in over his head and the waves were never ending. He gasped for air, his tummy tight, muscles straining as he felt himself peeking. He knew what this was like; he was only human after all. This time however felt dirty and wrong. It was cold, heartless, nothing like he had expected it to be. Nothing at all...

"Fuck…" he managed to cry out, fingers tearing at the sheets beneath them. She hadn't even the decency to cover their naked bodies. Edward felt exposed, raw, as if he had were standing naked at the gate preying for his little brothers body back. The torment was unrelenting and the release even worse.

It was happening before his mind could even grasp the concept, don't do it, don't do it… his mind pleaded, but it was far too late, "Nnngh R.. Roy…" And in that moment everything stopped. He felt as though his heart were exploding, his hips arced off the bed, eyes closed so tight he thought he might live through eternal darkness. It was sick, but in a way made him whole. It was over, she wasn't moving…

"Did…" No, but she was talking, her voice constricted though a mixture of disbelief and horror, "Did you just say Roy?" She barked, pulling herself off his body with a deafening squelch noise.

Ed was quickly becoming aware of what had happened. His clothes were tossed upon his sorely naked form but he was free. He wanted to talk, but even opening his eyes grew difficult. He didn't want to move when all he wanted to do was run. She was stalking him again, body all around him, toying with his desperation.

"You like cock… you're a little street faggot!" she was screaming now as Edward scrambled to pull on his clothes, leaving his boxers discarded where ever they had fallen. The cool leather stuck to his calves as he forced it up and over his skinny legs. His automail creaking and groaning as he forced himself to stand, terrified to dare look her in the eye. "Great... I should have known better then to pick up the street runt…"
Ed hadn't even the energy to protest the height implication. Instead he drew himself upright, tucking himself safely away within his pants before shouldering the black shirt he had been wearing. "Sorry…" Seemed the only word his mouth would utter, everything else, every explanation, every plea was lost with his dignity.

"Don't say another fucking world, just get out…" again she was screaming, this time however, she was covering herself up with a long and shabby looking robe. Reality seemed to permeate the lust driven fantasy Edward had been living, the room now dirty and run down. He recognized it as one of many downtown hostel rooms where those of poorer street value took up homage.

As he turned to leave she was muttering something about bratty children, dirty little street waifs. Words he didn't care to hear but probably deserved all the same. He was a young man with no apparent home; why else would he have been wandering near the alleyway that night?

His hand had been on the door when she called, "OH and don't forget this…" his body pivoting on the spot just in time to see his State Alchmist's watch thrown viciously at his head. The metal struck the door with an unearthly red glow as the timepiece fell open and Edward was forced to watch the hands of time tick slowly by. His own childish words of reminder staring him back in the face. For some reason, it only furthered the embarrassment, only brought images of those exotic ebony eyes and mussed up black hair… Roy Mustang would have a field day if he ever found out about this. Edward Elric was a shameful man, he was a horrible human being… he was a terrified little boy.

"Thank you…" He managed to mutter, but she had probably realized then who he was, her hand covering her mouth, "I actually need that…." And he was bent low, drawing the object closed to tuck it safely in his pocket. "sorry again…" Edward managed in a voice that was small, even for him, before disappearing out the door and into a rainy street where he again was left to sear for warmth. Warmth he knew he didn't deserve… the world had made that abundantly clear.