Summary: In a world where Edward Elric could never see himself considering being 'gay', and in a life where Roy Mustang couldn't imagine Ed, not being gay. A story of confusion, controversy and learning to accept the true nature of . AU
A/N On The Universe: This follows neither the anime nor the manga, really, but is set in an alternate timeline and or AU. There is not going to be any Alchemy in this story, but hey I found a happy medium. I kept Ed's Auto-mail arm and leg. :D
A/N On Reviews: I adore getting feedback and constructive criticism, but I do have one request to make. When commenting, please bear in mind that your comments and suggestions, both good and bad, are your opinion only, rather than (in general) a statement of fact. It is easy to accidentally insult or offend an author by sounding demanding and entitled in a written review, and I know that is never anyone's intention. By all means tell me if you think something seems a bit off, but give a moment's thought to how the tone of your review might be received. Thanks!
Rating Information - Rated "M" overall due to scenes of an explicit or disturbing nature later on. Please check each chapter for each rating or warnings. (boyxboy)
-Edward-
Thick strands of gold hair fell into the boy's yellow, pain-slicked eyes. His blurred vision locked onto the dark-haired intruder standing in front of him. The black hair of the other man's, gleaming green in the pale moon light shining high above them.
The abrupt motion of the other person moving and slamming into the younger man's body sent him flying backwards, right into a tree with a sickening crunch. The sound filled the other quite clearing.
The blond boy's right arms hung limp and useless at his side. Blood from the open gash at his forearm dripping steadily down his motionless fingertips as it stained the forest floor amber in color. The tendons in his arm were torn; this, the blond knew for sure… the burning circulating within the limb was excruciating to the point of aggravating numbness.
The dark-haired fugitive shoved on the boy's battered rib-cage with the blunt ends of his elbows. The blond's spine dug into the tree at an awkward angle. He gritted his teeth through the pain as he tried to gain leverage with his bare feet in the dirt, but he fell short, slipping from the dry and brittle leaves beneath him. The young man let out an angry puff of air, his uninjured hand pushing at his attacker's face and neck with blind rage.
'Get away, have to get away…' raced through the younger man's mind as he frantically scratched and punched at the other before him. He could see the psychotic man's white teeth smeared with blood, smiling through the fingers of his hand splayed across the man's face. The vile man's nose was bleeding profusely from a well-aimed punch from the boy earlier in the attack.
The sudden motion of the boy's injured arm being jerk out to the left sent him crying out and falling forwards into the dirty forest floor. However, before he could make contact, the taller green-haired man gripped him, and with the blond's own momentum, turned the shorter man's broken arm behind his back, effortlessly trapping him.
A blood curdling scream echoed through the empty woods surrounding the young man's family home. A vile laughed followed dauntingly after from the hateful man.
"Mmmm…scream for me, Chibi. You do it so sweetly," said the dark one in a strangely feline voice as he squeezed the abused arm even higher up the boy's maltreated back.
The blond couldn't help it, he cried out from the torn muscle being stretched further than any arm should ever bend. He bit his bottom lip until he could taste metallic tang on his tongue, trying to stop his cries of agony.
He wouldn't let this sick bastard win. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he tried to buck the laughing lunatic off his back. The younger man was thankful Alphonse had gotten away unnoticed by the burglary in their house. Help was coming; he just had to wait it out, however long it would take.
The blond kept repeating this in his head like a mantra of hope.
'Help is coming...Al got away...'
The man laughed again at the nape of the blond's neck as if he could actually hear the inner pleas of a helpless child. The vile creature of a man grasped a hand-full of golden hair and yanked the boy's head backwards.
'Help is coming...' The young man repeated in his head as a tear slipped -unwillingly- past his glazed eyes.
The blond was in an awful position, spine bent in a sickly arch, neck strung tight with forced submission.
"Don't be that way, little one…" the green-haired man purred against the blond's ear. The boy could feel the sick fucker's breath linger on his neck and cheek as he spoke. The feeling of nausea crept its way up into his throat. He swallowed a couple times, only ever tasting metallic as it sat heavily in the back of his throat.
The few strands of hair hanging over his forehead shielded the boy's eyes at the other man's words. His body hung limp like a puppet on strings with the dark vile man painted on his back. The boy wouldn't give into the wicked game this horrible man was trying to play. He refused to scream, he still had his pride. No matter how weak he felt, he still had his pride.
'…help was coming... Al got away. Al got away.'
When the dark-haired man received no response from the child beneath him, he pressed the seeping wound on the boy's arm with the pad of his thumb. White bone protruding gruesomely from the bruised and battered skin. The smile of the dark-hair man stretched along the boy's neck at the muffled attempt to covered whimpers. The blond's body shook in agonizing pain, mind clear except for the searing numbness of his flesh. The boy opened his mouth as a silent scream echoed out into nothingness, still living his agony through silence. He wouldn't let the disturbed bastard win.
The hold on his long hair was renewed, as his neck was forced back so he could stare into the crazed violet eyes of his attacker.
"Why don't you sing, little chibi?" The feline man spoke his question, letting go of the boy's broken arm. It fell limply to his battered side. The newly-freed hand grasped the boy's child-like jaw, squeezing the flesh till his fingers dug into the soft purple of the abused skin.
"I know what will inspire you, little one, to sing for me…" The word's left the lunatic's mouth, but before the boy could process anything… A heavy boot came down upon the child's small kneecap. The sound of a nauseating 'snap' filled the clearing.
I awoke instantly, my body fighting frantically to sit up straight. There were arms around me, and I slapped at them, pushing them away from my body. The searing pain in my artificial knee burnt an invisible line to where metal and flesh melded together about mid-thigh.
I ripped the sweat soaked sheet from my body with a grunt of discomfort falling from my lips. I sat there in bed, staring down towards my auto-mail leg. Phantom pain laced up and down the now metal limb.
A dream. It was just a dream, I told myself, but that didn't stop the queasy feeling of fear rippling through my stomach…I was breathing heavy. My skin was slick with sweat from a night terror I hadn't experienced in a long time. I brought my shaking hands to my face. The soothing metal of my right stroked over my forehead, pushing my bangs out of my eyes.
I had to remind myself sternly that that man was long dead. He had rotten in prison till his dying day.
Even knowing he was dead, the pull of fear still racketed through me.
After all these years, the man named Envy could still leave me writhing in terror. It had happened 15 years ago, but that night still haunts my dreams. The night I lost my leg…
I glanced down at my metal leg: A reminder of the fear for the rest of my days, from an action of a psychopath which only resulted in the weakness of a child and now the grown man I am. A deep sigh blew through me as my hands dropped from my face and down into my lap.
"Fuck..." My voice was deep with gravel from sleep. With a sluggish movement, I swung my legs off the bed and brought my arms -one metal and the other flesh- to rest on my miss matched thighs. My hands rubbed roughly at the stubble at my cheeks. The ports of my auto-mail ached like a bitch... My right hand drifted from my face as I rolled my mechanical shoulder, trying to loosen the pain licking through my automated nervous system.
That man had nearly killed me that night. I was ten years old, fighting for my life. I was lucky the police had gotten there when they had. Otherwise, I could have been… "Dead." I voiced my thoughts.
A muffled complaint from behind drew my attention away from my dreadful thoughts. I raised my eyebrows over my shoulder at what I found lounging in my bed.
Roy. A naked— Roy Mustang.
My hand dropped back down into my lap as I pivoted my body further on the bed so I could easily see him. A snort of a laughter escaped my lips as I watched this large man snuggle his frowning face further into the soft pillow beneath his ebony head. For a man who claims to be in the military, he sure does sleep like a log.
My eyes stop to stare at the peacefully resting man in my bed. I observed Roy as his dry, bottom lip puckered beyond his upper as he slept on. It was endearing…and almost…cute…
WAIT A SECOND…I DID NOT JUST THINK THAT!
The memory assaulted me, flashes of the night before raced through my mind unwanted in every aspect.
-Roy pulled off and licked flat-tongue up Ed's spit slick shaft. His hand gripped the base and stroked up as his mouth latched onto the blonde man's reddened tip.-
My stomach fluttered with that annoying heat as my eyes lingered on Roy's sleep-pressed mouth. 'Fuck me…'
My flesh hand found its way back to my face, rubbing at my forehead as if clawing at the aggravated thoughts flustering about inside me. I wasn't awake enough for this shit. I needed coffee before even allowing myself to start thinking about last night rationally.
Fuck, fuck, fuck… the profanity repeated its way through my head as I scrambled off the bed. It followed after me down the stairs of my loft and into my chilled kitchen.
I was beyond tired. Sleep had eluded me last night – for obvious reasons – and when I had finally drifted off, my dreams were filled with monsters of past offences.
I need coffee and stat. I thought pushing all the other things -which were less than important- out of my mind. Well, for at least for the time being... but what heterosexual man in their right mind could forget about the naked man still asleep in their bed?
"Fuck…" I exclaimed out aloud again. I really needed to stop thinking about that for now… coffee first, problems later…
I couldn't consider myself part of the living without a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, and on this particular morning, I think I was going to need three or four cups before I would actual feel like a living, breathing person
I grumbly set myself about the kitchen grabbing at the things I would need to make myself my miracle in a cup. As the coffee machine brew behind me, I leaned against the black and white fleck marble counter. This was one helluva a way to wake up and it was only… I stop mid thought to crank my neck towards the green faced digital clock above my stove on the.
5:20
Fuck me… it was fucking early. My hands found their way back onto my face as a tired groan fell from my lips. The chilled floor beneath my bare feet did nothing for the pain in my metal thigh. Moving my hands away from my cheeks, I sluggishly made my way over to the medicine cabinet near the stove.
I normally tired avoiding taking pain killers for anything less than life and death situations, but as of right now I couldn't muster a lick-of-shit about what I 'normally' would and wouldn't do. My nerve where shot from the dream and I hurt too fucking bad to care.
The coffee pot chimed that it was finished brewing. I sighed with great relief and pushed off the counter top towards the wonderful smell.
With the hot steaming cup of black coffee in my hand, I already felt somewhat better. The scent alone made me feel more alive and less like a walking corpse. The warmth of the cup felt soothing on my flesh hand as I palmed the mug and brought the coffee towards my lips. The scalding liquid was too hot to even attempt to drink, but I still took tiny sips off the white brim of the coffee mug. Call me a masochist.
Before long my first cup of coffee had all but disappeared, and I soon found myself pouring another serving. After repeating the process two more times, I felt like I could – maybe – attempt to start facing my day head-on. Or better yet, the problem which was lying naked in my bed. The straight man inside cringed as I looked toward the stairs and my loft. Fucking hell, what had I done last night…?
I had never done anything like this… 'One night stand business.' Fuck… was this even considered that? I wondered silently as I sat on a bar stool in the nook of my kitchen, blindly staring. I could feel a scowl rest upon my face
I've never had to kick someone out of my bed before… I had always been in either a committed relationship or not sleeping with anyone at all. This was new territory for me, and to add fuel to the already scalding fire, the naked person lying in my bed was a man.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed loudly into the apartment. I kicked off the stool I was sitting on and made my way towards the bathroom. A shower would help me clear the remaining cobwebs of sleep from my head. I had already taken one last night, after Roy had passed out. I had been restless, and the nasty, sticky mess clinging to my stomach hadn't been helping any, so I had made sure the other man was out cold before quietly going to take a shower. I wanted to wash away the physical evidence of what I had done.
'Shit…' Thinking about last night made my chest burn, and my stomach gave a painful twist, but my subconscious mind continued to run freely. I flicked the light switch and walked towards the white sink.
Roy's hands had been so soft, softer than any woman's hands had ever been. And they were bigger, so much bigger and stronger even. A shudder traced down my spine. It had all felt so fucking good…So why was I denying it?
"…because I am not gay!" I spoke aloud, looking sternly at my scowling reflection "Because I like women…" I have for twenty-seven years of my life. Why would that suddenly change now?
Fucking-shit," I said into the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink in front of me till my knuckles turned white from the exertion. I observed my reflection. My hair was a mess. Yellow strands stood on end; the braid from last night had not held up to my tossing and turning
With a grunt of frustration, I pried my hands away and ripped the hair-tie off the end of my braid. My tangled hair fell around my shoulders in disarray of clumps; I would have to brush it later… With a sigh – I hated brushing my hair – I gathered it all onto the top of my head, knotting it the way Winry had always made fun of me for doing when we were together. She said the style made me look like a girl.
It's practical for showering when you didn't want to get your hair wet, and I didn't. I had washed it the night before; I didn't need to deal with wet hair again, so I wasn't going too. Fuck what I looked like, while doing it and while I'm at it fuck Winry as well.
The thought of Winry annoyingly reminded me I had yet to call her this morning. I told her last night over the phone that I would do so first thing when I woke up." And honestly I really did need to talk to her, -there was a bolt from my arm sitting in my coat pocket telling me I needed to talk to her- I just really; really, really… didn't want to.
A despondent sigh fell from my mouth as my hands dropped back down to the porcelain sink, and my weary head hung towards my chest in defeat. The thought of talking to my cheating ex-girlfriend first thing in the morning wasn't what I called a 'good time.' More like a hole in my head... but it was more than that. I didn't want to deal with my emotion of that subject. What I really wanted to do, was never talk to Winry again –which was unrealistic-, and forget I'd ever loved her in the process.
I looked back up at my reflection. My red rimmed eyes stared towards me mockingly. When had my life turned into such a chick-flick?
With a snort at that thought, I turned on the balls of my feet towards the shower. The mismatched gait of my steps rung out on the cold tile floor as I made my way towards the tub in the corner of the room. My metal thigh still ached like a bitch, but the medicine I'd taken earlier was starting to take effect. Warm water always had a way of making everything seem better, -even if it really wasn't-.
I took a quick shower. I was in long enough to knock the chill from my bones and to soap up and lather myself clean. I had slept hot the previous night, my nightmares helped in that fact. I awoke sweaty and feeling gross, and the shower helped wash all of it away. It was a pleasing thought, and feeling. Stepping out of the claw tub I felt like a new person. Like I could actually take on the day.
Thing was, the feeling of warmth after a shower usually doesn't last very long, something or someone will always find a way to rip that insurance you found and built within the warm soothing water away from you.
That moment came for me, like a freight train on the tracks of destruction. As I stood on the edge of my room looking at the rumpled man snoozing away in my bed. All the confidence I had mustered up withered away in one rapid motion.
The events of last night came rushing back. I felt a hot tingling sensation start in the pit of my stomach and spread down into my legs.
My wandering eyes followed the smooth plains of Roy's back, starting at the dip of his lower spine, where ass met the hollow flawless expand of skin. The sheet lied low on Roy's hips, barely covering the rim of his black boxer briefs, which were riding up on the edges of being indecent. My gaze continued to follow the lines and creases of muscles of his back to his broad shoulders, where Roy's arms were folded in cradle of the pillow beneath his head.
I'd never been attracted to another man's body before. But as I stood there watching the half-naked and – I hated to admit – attractive man in my bed, I knew everything had changed…
In other words, I was screwed. Possibly what was even more screwed up was what we had actually done last night, because even though it was a long shot – and I mean a really long shot – I still had the urge to deny that it had happened at all. I could still maybe blame my inappropriate urges on the fact that I had had way too much to drink, even though Roy and I both knew I hadn't
I had honestly wanted to kiss Roy as much as he had apparently wanted to kiss me last night
But after having a long, restless night of alternating between confusion and denial, it was morning now and Roy was still sleeping in my bed. And I still wanted to kiss him and his perfect mouth.
I groaned and dropped my eyes away from Roy's sleeping form, moving over to my dresser to get socks and underwear, desperately trying – and failing – to distract myself from this messed up situation."
The towel was still clinging wetly to my waist as I let it go to the floor and stepped into my boxer-briefs. I was already half hard and nearly aroused enough to do something entirely stupidly and embarrassing.
On the bright side, if there even was such a thing – which I doubted at this point – at least I could let go of my confusion now. I was at least able admit to myself that I wanted Roy in a sexual aspect. The thoughts made my chest burn and the tips of my ears flush with heat, but that did not stop the fact that I still wanted what I wanted and what I wanted – goddammit – was Roy
I turned back towards the sleeping man in my bed, and a smile tugged on the corners of my lips. I had realized sometime during the night that my sudden-found attraction for Roy was actually a one-in-a-million chance for me, because I probably would never find another man attractive in a sexual way. Ever. Period
So what did that make Roy to me? Was he special? In what way? Or was he just an uninvited loophole to my own sexual orientation?" I shook my head at the thought and turned my attention back towards my dresser. Trying to ignore my urges and obviously displayed desires, I opened the dresser to pull out a white undershirt before walking over to where I had left my jeans and black top still hung on a metal rack in the corner.
Well admittedly, if Roy had been a busy blonde beauty, I probably would have wanted him from the start. But sadly, he wasn't a woman but an extremely attractive male…that I found…desirable…goddammit.
The thoughts flowing through me were stark and ardently bold within my mind. Honestly, if I could overcome being sexually involved with another man last night, while finding and taking pleasure so readily. What did it matter if I had to grow accustom to dealing with different shaped and designed parts in the process? They were just parts, after all, and suddenly so inconsequential of my feelings. That revelation came as something of a relief, but mostly just to my masculinity."
As for the denial, it was a futile endeavor to try to ignore this. I wanted Roy; there was simply no way around it. I have wanted him since the first kiss we shared in my hallway entry, and even if I initially felt upset about it, it wasn't going to go away just by pretending that it wasn't there.
Wanting something and actually have that something had always been firmly separated in my mind. I had wanted my arm and leg restored, but I knew that that was never going to happen."
Subconsciously, beneath my line of thinking my flesh hand was rubbing along my cold lifeless metal elbow, hanging limply at my side. A bitter smile laced my lips into a scowl. My bare fingers traced the bolts holding the outer plating of my automail together
I so desperately want to be normal… I cringed at that unwanted thought as I ripped my flesh hand away from my metal arm as if it had burnt me.
Irritated at myself, I set about gathering the remaining things I needed up before heading downstairs. I gripped the tie that was barely holding my hair atop my head, and it fell around my shoulders in knots. By the time I reached the bottom step, my hair was in a somewhat manageable state, controllable enough to be braided at least.
I grumbled under my breath about needing to get out of here. I glanced to the digital clock above my stove.
6:15 am
It still was really early, but Winry had said "the earlier the better." This still didn't stop the pit of reluctance growing in my stomach. I was being a pussy about it, I knew I was. Didn't change the fact I was still feeling that way...
A sigh fell from my lips and I moved away from kitchen towards the bathroom. My socks muted the clunky sound of my metal foot on the wooden floor but it was still terribly loud in the other quite apartment. Inside the bathroom, the lights were still on, I guess I hadn't turn them off. Shrugging nonchalantly, I set about doing my hygienic routine, washing my face and the brushing of my teeth. I was done before I could let my thoughts wander off again. I gave myself one more lingering stare in the mirror before turning and leaving. Something black and white caught in the corner of my eyes. I stopped and looked towards the black wool coat hanging neatly in the bathroom.
It was Roy's coat. I had hung it there the night before to dry. His white button down hung next to it on a separate hanger. Without much of a thought, I walked up to them and picked the large formal shirt up by the bronze hanger. My metal hand caught the tail end and balled it into my fist. I brought the rumpled fabric to my face and inhaled the lingering sweet sillage laced into the cloth.
The shirt was stiff from drying from rain water in the cold bathroom, instead of a fancy electric dryer. But I didn't care, it still smelled entirely of him… of Roy... My knees felt suddenly weak, as I pressed my face further into the crinkled shirt. I found myself lucky, I had an artificial leg helping to keep me standing up right. Otherwise I would have probably sunk down into the floor already.
I had to physically make myself let go of the shirt and I watched the white fabric flutter to the floor. I took extraneous breath through my mouth trying to steady myself and closed my eyes. My now free hand reached for the towel rack, I knew was in front of me.
"…stop being such a girl, Elric." I said pointedly to myself before reopening my eyes and letting go of the rack. I looked down and scooped up the fallen shirt off the floor.
Quickly before the urge came again, I righted Roy's shirt on the hanger and swiftly grabbed the forgotten black woolen coat. Exiting the bathroom, I paced over to the stairs and placed Roy's clothing on the banister of the stair-well, out in the open, where he would see them when he came down stairs.
I really needed to get out of here, I thought looking over towards the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost seven 'clock, a reasonable time to leave for Winry's shop. The question was, though, should I wake Roy up before I leave?
The answer should have been an instant yes, on my part. But I was beginning to wonder if I truly was a coward… because if I was being honest with myself, and I really was, I was afraid of what Roy's reaction would be to what happen last night between us. My face ran hot, and my flesh hand found a way to my lips as I thought swiftly of that heated kiss between the two of us, which only lead to everything we had done.
My light touch on my mouth, turned hard as I clenched my fist in instant anger. "Ugh, such a fucking bitch!"
I was done thinking about it, it was making my head hurt. It was settled, I was not going to wake him. Roy could wake up to an empty apartment.
Storming off towards my entry way, I irritably tugged on my black boots. When I was finished lacing them up, I lifted my head and saw my gun holster hanging neatly on the coat rack. I wonder silently, how they had gotten there. I shrugged and reached for the creamy leather straps before putting my arms through the holster and snapping the restraint closed. I instantly felt a thousand times better… My girls could always find a way to do that. I smiled as I let my fingers trace over the cool metal of the silver Glock pistols strapped under my arms. Next I reached for my red trench coat and put my arms through the sleeves.
I was about to leave out the door, but my conscience was screaming too loudly to ignore. I had to at least leave a note for. Roy My face fell into a scowl, and I knew I had to do what was right…
"Fuck it…Fine…" I said with my hand on the doorknob. I turned on my heels and stomped up the stairs. When I reached the top, I did my best to try and ignore the lump of black laying under my white comforter. I continued over to my desk and ripped a piece of paper out of my notebook. I jotted down a quick vague message about where I was and what I was doing, and for good measures, I put a couple warnings in about not stealing anything… I am a cop…
When I was done, I folded the paper in half and scrawled Roy's name on the front in my messy penmanship. I fished out my keys of my jacket pockets and pulled off the spare silver key to my apartment. I laid them both down on the wooden night table next to my bed. And without a backward glance, I left my apartment.
I had a lot to think about… and I seriously didn't even know where to start
To be continued…