Wow, this was originally a one-shot, but now it's not, thanks to my awesome reviewers. Thank you! You guys are awesome!
Note: This chapter is more violent than the first. You have been warned.
I tried to do another dream-type thingy, only from Envy's point of view. I don't think it turned out as good, but still, let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I own this disclaimer. Seriously, steal this disclaimer and I'll sue your ass, you damn plagerists. (I upped the rating. Therefore I can swear -)
Insanity.
A strange feeling.
Sweet.
Yet bitter and hot.
It burns his mouth.
The taste of honey.
Mixed with blood.
A baby's coos.
And the echoes of screams.
The scent of cinnamon.
So like the clotted stench of death.
The death of the boy beneath him.
The boy that should have been killed.
By him.
By his insanity.
Death in Insanity.
Insanity in Death.
Then nothing.
Nothing but. . .
Insanity.
The only warning was a small grunt from the sleeping boy.
Then his metal arm came crashing down onto the bed beside him with so much force that he couldn't believe that the boy was really asleep.
He looked up from his spot on the floor, absentmindedly rubbing his aching shoulder.
Diving out of beds and onto a concrete floor covered only by a thin layer of worn cloth that was passing itself off as a rug was not something that you should do on a regular basis, but still, a bruised arm was better than having your head smashed.
Was the boy even asleep?
That would be a laugh, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal alchemist, knowingly cuddling with Envy, The first homunculus.
He climbs back onto both the bed and the boy, one leg on either side of Edward's chest, one hand on each wrist.
He slowly begins to trace patterns along both arms, feeling cold metal beneath his left hand, contrasting the warm flesh beneath his right.
Then he dipped his head and lapped at the raised lines of scar tissue where they met.
The boy tasted good.
He moved until he was by the boy's left side, by the real arm, and wrapped one arm around the other's waist while his hand roamed over his chest.
He traced his fingers lightly over the boy's face, exalting in the smooth feel of his soft lips, lips that hadn't been kissed by anyone else.
A mouth unexplored by the tongues of other men, or women probably.
A body untouched, virgin, pure…
For now.
There was something about the boy's innocence that made him want to protect it, even as he longed to ravage him, to taste his blood and hear him scream.
But then where would he go for warmth when killing left him cold?
The boy was so warm, so inviting, he was amazed that he hadn't thought of this before.
It was a nice little set-up: he could comfort him when he had a nightmare, share his warmth in the cold of night, and satisfy… something within him.
The something that had told him to comfort the boy, told him to kiss him, told him to kill…
He reaches into his pocket, fingers closing around something wet..
He closes his eyes, re-living the kill in his head, the screaming, the taste of the blood, the same blood that he'd left on Edward's lips…
He snuggles closer, burying his face in the boy's side, and closed his eyes.
So this is what it feels like to sleep…
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He awoke to a familiar smell, one that haunted his dreams and filled his waking moments with fear: Blood.
It was coming from beside him, his leg was wet with it.
He reached up, struggling against whoever held him, and flicked on the light.
He immediately wished that he hadn't.
He was naked, though he had fallen asleep fully clothed.
Envy was beside him, his arms around his waist, his skirt wet with blood.
He screamed, and then Envy's eyes snapped open, and he was lying flat on his back with the Homunculus straddling his hips.
Envy reached into a pocket hidden in his skirt, pulled something out and pushed it into his mouth, bending down at the same time and pressing their lips together in a searing mockery of a kiss.
With some difficulty he spat something whatever it was into his mouth.
It smelled and tasted foul, he almost gagged, but then Envy's unnaturally long tongue was pushing the object down his throat.
He was choking on it, he couldn't breathe, and his vision was beginning to blur.
All he could see was those violet eyes and what lay beneath them: Genius choked by insanity.
A monster masquerading as something not quite human.
A monster that was killing him.
He was dying…
Then weight on him was suddenly lifted, he heard Al's raised voice and Envy hissing like a cat.
Pain ripped through his side to be met with a flow of hot blood.
Then he was coughing again, hacking up whatever rotted horror that Envy had tried to shove down his throat.
Al was doing something to help, he had no idea what, but it worked, whatever it was: the thing was out now, lying in his palm, still appearing to do its job even though it had been dead for quite some time.
Lying in his palm is a partially rotted eyeball.
The iris is a deep, vibrant gold.
