Better Living Through Alchemy - Chapter 13, Part 2
The fourth year came to a close. It found Edward Elric in charge of the Stuttgart office of Gerhardt and Co. Construction. He lived in a back room of the very office, it was cozy and snug and cheap. It had a bed, sink and stove, and he could use the bathroom in the office proper. Edward was also in charge of keeping track of Herr Gerhardt's niece, Greta, but she was no trouble and often good company to have about. She would bring him cookies, make him tea and sit to tell him about news from the outside. She did filing when directed, answered the phone and occasionally ran errands. He found out from her that Herr Gerhardt had been caring for her ever since she lost her one remaining parent, (Herr Gerhardt's brother), in the war that had taken place a few years before Edward had landed here.
Sometimes, when Herr Gerhardt and Greta would invite Edward to join them for dinner, Edward got the distinct feeling that a bookkeeper might not be the only thing Herr Gerhardt was looking for, the way the older man's eyes would travel from Greta to Ed. The way he always encouraged her to sit beside Ed in the restaurant, the way he had her hang about the office… Ed mulled this over. If he were well and truly going to live the rest of his life here, then it might not be so bad. Greta was a lively girl, friendly and intelligent. She didn't strike him with wrenches; in fact, she never went near any machinery for fear of 'oil' and her dress. She didn't seem to be repulsed by his artificial limbs and often time, she grabbed his fake arm or touched his fake hand, never flinching at the contact.
Ed could almost imagine his life with her and with Herr Gerhardt. It would be much like it was now, only he wouldn't sleep alone. Maybe, just maybe, he could be happy.
With these things in mind, one night he asked Greta to dinner alone. She seemed surprised and happily accepted. Later, when he returned her to her Uncle's residence, he'd kissed her; nothing spectacular, just soft and gentle on her lips, but she kissed back as well and reached up to touch his blonde bangs, smiling. She then said a soft goodnight and let herself in the door.
It wouldn't be so bad. He could learn to be happy. He let himself think about Al and Roy then; Al would tell him to be happy, that he deserved it. Al would tell him that if this is what he wanted, (even if it wasn't, but only what he could have here), then he should take it.
Roy might be jealous.
***
Ed shifted in Roy's hug again, noting with some satisfaction that it had tightened considerably as Ed told him of Greta.
How fucking messed up is this? I get pissed off that he's jealous of the Prince, but I want him to be jealous of Greta? It's not like he'd ever get to opportunity to even meet her! What the fuck do I want here? Do I want him to be pissy or not?
“You stupid bastard,” Ed said. “Jealous of some fucking girl you'll never even meet.”
I don't know what I want, Ed thought.
“I'm not jealous,” Roy defended. “I'm glad you didn't give up completely, that you looked for happiness. Al is right, you deserve happiness.”
“You think so?” Ed said. “Why are you going out of your way to wreck it then? Oh wait, we're talking about what Al thinks I should have.”
Roy only sighed deeply and rested his cheek on the top of Ed's head. The bastard had no right to try and make Ed feel guilty about feeling vindictive.
“Ed,” Roy said, “you don't think so low of me that you think I'd want you to be unhappy and lonely because I wasn't there,” Roy started to rub his hand up and down one of Ed's arms through the blanket. “Surely after all this time, all we've done together, all we've been through together, you wouldn't really think that.”
“Stop fucking telling me what I think,” Ed said. “You just don't learn, do you? Damn Roy, you just can't give it up, can you? This need to live my life for me. You know, Al accused me of the same thing, I'm starting to see what he was talking about.”
“I don't mean it like that,” Roy said. “It's just hard to let go sometimes. I've been watching after you for a long time, Ed.”
“Molding me into what you want me to be,” Ed said lowly. “When you kissed me in your kitchen all those years ago, is that what you though it would turn out like?”
“Ed,” Roy said and nothing else, his hold tightened again.
Am I being unfair? No I don't think so. Was I just part and parcel of the whole Roy Mustang plan? Was it planned, was it spur of the moment that he worked into the grand scheme? I hate this, I HATE THIS! I... I almost wish I'd never found out. So I want to live in the dark of the world he's made for me, is that it?
Ed suddenly tilted his face up and Roy responded immediately with gentle lips on his forehead, his brow and a low, rumbling sound.
Am I doing this because I want to?
***
“Onkle Odo,” Greta said, (for she never called Herr Gerhardt by his last name, being the family she was), “says the American architect will be stopping by today.”
“Hmmm?” Ed glanced up from his ledger and raised his eyebrow. “American architect? I didn't know he'd engaged one. Someone I'll have to put on the payroll, I'm sure.”
“That is why he is coming by,” Greta informed him. “Are you sure Onkle didn't mention him? He's been very busy lately at the site, so perhaps it slipped his mind,” Greta leaned on Ed's desk and he glanced up again, smiling when she did. “You're always so busy yourself, Edward,” she told him. “He probably told you and you just forgot.”
“Seems odd, an American here,” Edward said. “Is he a student of architecture then and traveling abroad for education? Your Onkle is always looking to cut corners. He is also good about taking in strays,” Ed said and winked.
“Onkle is very kind hearted,” Greta said. “Sometimes it works to his advantage,” she winked. “I'll go set the kettle on in your room. That way, when the American comes, we can all have tea.”
Ed watched her walk around his desk, heading for the back.
“You know,” he called after her, “it's this fascination with Britain that makes you feed me tea all the time, when I'd just as soon have coffee.”
“Tea is good for you,” she countered as she disappeared into the back, “coffee just makes you tense.”
Maybe that is why the bastard would spend days on edge. Ed shook his head and dropped his eyes back to his ledger. The pot had no soon begun to sing when the front door bell chimed and Ed could hear someone step into the small entry way.
“Greta,” Ed called over his shoulder. “There's a visitor.” He smiled and watched the young woman hurry out of his room, grinning at him as she dashed by to meet their guest. He heard them exchange pleasantries and could immediately pick out, by the accent, that the American had arrived.
“Come in and meet Edward,” he heard Greta say as she appeared in the doorway of the main room. Ed lifted his head and laid down his pen. Because he never wanted to leave a bad impression on any of Herr Gerhardt's guests, he always schooled and restrained himself in their presence. Greta smiled at him as she walked into the room and Ed stood as another figure appeared in the doorway. When his black eyes lifted to Ed's, Ed felt the air in his lungs congeal and he put his hands on his desk to steady himself.
“This is Herr Raymond Swanson,” Greta said, giving Ed a funny look and tilting her head.
The man wearing Roy's face reached up and plucked a fedora off his head, gave Ed a smirk and said, “Just Ray is fine, I'm not the formal type.”
Somewhere, someone was laughing at him, he was sure of it. Ed's lips moved, but no sound came out. He thought he was prepared for these ghosts; he watched Alfons die, he thought he'd hardened himself to these specters who wore faces that made him ache for home.
But not for this one, there wasn't anything that could have prepared him for this one. His heart sang, his stomach ached, he felt light-headed and heavy at once and he wanted, he wanted to go home!
“Edward,” Greta's voice pulled him from his stupor, “are you alright?” she asked with obvious concern, crossing the room toward him.
“I'm fine,” Ed managed to get out as he sat abruptly. Greta made a small distressed sound and hurried to his side, her hand finding his forehead. He flushed and reached up to catch her hand, gently pulling it away. “Greta, I'm fine,” he mumbled, then steeled himself and looked at Roy again.
This isn't who you want it to be. Don't think of him as... Roy.
“Herr Swanson,” Ed said, trying hard to wear his mask. “Will you pull up a chair; I believe Greta is making tea?” He looked at the young woman then and she sighed, nodded and turned to go to the back room.
The man called Ray Swanson pulled one of the wooden office chairs to the front of Ed's desk. He sat with casual grace, dropping his hat on Ed's desk and crossing his legs with his fingers laced in his lap.
What do you have for me today, Fullmetal?
“Greta says Herr Gerhardt is taking you on the project,” Ed said tonelessly, dropping his eyes to his ledger. “I will need to see you onto the payroll and get your address for the books.”
“I'm living in a hotel at the moment,” Raymond Swanson said. “If this job pans out, I might find an apartment.” He leaned forward then, reached over and boldly plucked Ed's pen from his fingers to scribble a hotel name and address on Ed's desk blotter.
“You have your passport and proper papers for working, don't you?” Ed asked, mesmerized by the long fingers still around his pen. “I don't want any trouble for Herr Gerhardt if someone were to ask about the American at the job site.”
“Everything is in order,” Raymond Swanson assured him in his American-accented German. “Herr Gerhardt obtained the work papers for me himself; he's a very helpful man.”
“That he is,” Ed murmured. Easily taken advantage of as well. If you are truly anything like... I will have to watch you. No, you are not who I want you to be.
“You're not German yourself,” Raymond Swanson said. “Unless I am mistaken?”
“No, I'm British,” Ed lied automatically. He'd been living with it for so long, it almost seemed like the truth.
“So, two strangers in a strange land,” Raymond Swanson said. “Maybe I can come to you when local customs make me scratch my head in bewilderment. I think I can relate more to a Brit than most of the local yokels.”
“If you have questions,” Ed said, “I will do what I can to help. The locals are warm and helpful; you don't have anything to worry about. They are very accepting when they see you pulling your own weight.”
“I know,” Raymond Swanson said. “Let's go to dinner tonight. You can show me the good places to eat, I'm guessing, and we can talk.”
“I'm sorry,” Ed started, but Greta arrived with the tea and interrupted him.
“I think that is an excellent idea, Herr Swanson,” she said, setting the tray on Ed's desk. “Edward spends far too much time cooped up in his room or with just Onkle and I for company. The two of you have something in common besides sausages and numbers.”
“But I thought...” Ed said looking up at the young woman.
“We can go out tomorrow,” Greta smiled. “Edward, you need a friend of your own age, and Herr Swanson needs advice on living abroad.”
“Very well then,” Ed said, not feeling comfortable with the idea.
Let me take you out, we can get meat sauce and noodles if you like.
“It's settled then,” Raymond Swanson accepted the cup of tea Greta handed to him. “I can swing by here tonight when I get back from the site. Thank you, Miss Gerhardt, for the tea and the dinner plans,” he smiled at her and Ed's heart raced and faltered a moment.
“My pleasure,” Greta said. “I know you will find Edward charming company, the same as I do,” she said.
Well... isn't this ironic.
***
Ed cursed the stiffness of his prosthetic fingers and rechecked his tie in the mirror for the third time. He stopped and looked at his false hand, sighed and told himself he should be grateful to have it at all. It had taken awhile to grudgingly admit the old man had been useful for something. When he sat propped on pillows on a thin mattress in a dully lit room, he had nothing but despair. The automail had ceased to function almost the moment he'd awoken in this place yet again, and at the time, he had not recognized his uncanny ability to always materialize near Hohenhiem as luck.
His... father had spent many hours over many nights trying to understand why the automail had ceased to work. In the end, he had come up with this solution, the limbs Edward now wore. They were pale, the rubberized skin horribly off color, but Edward was used to long sleeved shirts, long pants and gloves long before this necessity to hide his body parts once again. Ed retreated to the office, fished his gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on. The sun had been down for nearly an hour and he was beginning to think that Raymond Swanson had been tied up, or perhaps merely forgotten about their dinner plans, (he was torn between rage and relief over the speculation).
The office door opened with the sound of the small bell chime and Edward felt himself rooted to the spot. He should call this off; he shouldn't indulge himself this way. Nothing was going to come of this and his nights were just going to be longer and lonelier. He should ask Greta to marry him; he should let her Uncle buy them a house as a wedding present. He should go on from here and forget he was ever Edward Elric, State Alchemist and that he had any sort of life before the one he had now. He could make himself forget, he could make himself one of these people. He could live here; he could grow old here and die here. He could do it, give up the past and everything that went along with it. They were probably better off anyway without him there to make things complicated and chaotic. He should just tell Herr Swanson...
Raymond Swanson stuck his head through the doorway leading into the office and grinned when he saw Edward standing there. Edward, for his part, did a perfect imitation of a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding truck.
“Hey, there you are,” Raymond Swanson said in English. “You didn't have to dress up for me. Gloves are for fancy get togethers, I was hoping we could have beer and sausage. What are you waiting on? Let's go, I'm starved.”
***
“Is it alright to call you Ed?” Raymond Swanson asked as they walked down the sidewalk toward the center of town. Stuttgart was humming softly in the evening air. Already, the sound of music from a few local beergartens was gathering above their heads as people Ed might or might not have known waved to them from their tables and benches.
“Oh, of course,” Ed said, halfway distracted, halfway in love, halfway home. “Greta and Herr Gerhardt like Edward better, but I'm not opposed to a shortening of my name.”
“Good,” Raymond Swanson said. “I would really appreciate it if you called me Ray,” he continued. “Everyone here is so polite and formal, sometimes it's a little uncomfortable.”
“Very well... Ray,” Ed swallowed and put his eyes straight ahead.
“So, this place you're taking me? Apfelkern?” Ray said.
“Apple core in English,” Ed said. “it just sounds better in German. I thought you might like to try hard cider. I know you said beer, but that's plentiful, this place is a rarity among pubs. It specializes.” Ed felt a small smile touch his lips.
“You don't sound very British,” Ray said. “I guess living here and speaking German all the time, you must be losing your accent,” he stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked, his hat sat back on his head at a jaunty angle and his dark bangs almost hung in his eyes.
“I haven't been home in a long time,” Ed said truthfully. “I suppose it was bound to happen.”
“You must miss it,” Ray said. He turned to follow Ed into a small pub front and was soon sitting opposite him in a booth near the back. “You order for us,” Ray said. “You know what to get and I trust you,” he took his hat off and winked at Ed as he dropped it on the seat beside him.
Ed fumbled a moment with the waitress, but managed to get food and cider ordered. He then shrugged off his jacket and straightened his collar.
“You eat with gloves on?” Ray asked. “Is it because of your hand?”
Ed gave a start and Ray hastily added, “I'm sorry, Herr Gerhardt mentioned... but if you're uncomfortable with it, I understand.”
“It's alright,” Ed said, tugging on the ends of his gloves self-consciously. “But yes, that's why I do everything with gloves on.”
“Everything?” Ray said with a sudden devilish smile. “Does your girlfriend like that too?”
To his utter horror, Ed felt his cheeks heat. He would have thrown his hands up to cover his face, but they were rooted to the spot on the table.
“My girlfriend?” Ed squeaked.
Ray raised one black eyebrow and leaned forward just a bit over the table.
“I thought you and that young lady in the office might be involved, the way she fawned all over you this afternoon,” Ray said and smirked.
“Oh, Greta,” Ed said. “She's just... she's just kind and she thinks that I get sick often, but I don't,” Ed rambled.
That isn't... that's a lie. Why am I lying? What possible reason do I have to lie? This ISN'T WHO I WANT IT TO BE. I can tell him the truth, I want... Greta, I want my life... home...
“You do look a little flushed,” Ray teased. He sat back and smiled as food and a pitcher was brought to the table. The waitress sat two steins down and filled them, then turned and hurried away. “But she's such a nice looking young woman and she's interested in you. There are a lot of nice looking young women around here,” Ray smiled.
Well, that hasn't changed. This isn't Roy, this ISN'T ROY.
Ed made a non-committal sound and lifted his mug of cider to his lips. Ray merely grinned, then followed suit.
***
Ed didn't tell Roy who Raymond Swanson resembled. It wasn't a lie exactly, okay it was an omission, but Roy didn't need to know, especially after...
Roy interrupted his thoughts.
“So, I was wondering who you... picked certain habits up from,” Roy said softly. Then Roy's lips again, on his temple, down the side of his jaw. Ed closed his eyes and finally went boneless. This was... cathartic. Telling someone, why hadn't he done it before? Even his earlier anger at Roy's manipulations seemed faded now.
“Not any good habits,” Ed muttered. “Just habits.”
Roy began to... rock him. A gentle swaying back and forth. Ed thought he should be angry about this, all this... coddling. It wasn't like him to endure such treatment, but he was feeling drained and it was strangely comforting. Roy's hand moved, caught Ed's automail hand and lifted it, bringing metal fingers to his lips. Ed watched him through slitted eyes. Roy kissed the steel fingers curled loosely over his own.
***
Two weeks found him rushing dinner with Greta and Herr Gerhardt to meet Ray at a pub or beergarten afterwards. A month later, Ray followed him into the darkened shop one night after coming home from a pub.
Ed twisted under him. He could close his eyes and hear the voice and he could pretend. Ray could be rough, though. He seemed to like to hold Ed's wrists down, but then just when Ed was feeling uncomfortable, like he might protest, Ray would gentle, calm him. One astonishing night, Ray opened up a new vista for him.
“I'm feeling lazy,” Ray murmured against Ed's throat, “I think I'll have you do the work tonight.”
“What?” Ed murmured, already heated and hard. Ray laughed and bit him on the shoulder. “Ow, dammit,” Ed said, reaching up to rub the offended spot. “Don't bite me, I don't like it.”
“What are you, twelve?” Ray said. “Damn Ed, for someone who's obviously had a male lover before, you are so... childish about the way you make love. I guess I'll go easy on you tonight.”
“I'm not childish,” Ed returned and then grunted as Ray moved him up into the pillows and onto his back. Ray straddled his thighs, snagged the oil off the bedside table, got his hand slick and did the most astonishing thing. As Ed watched, Ray reached back and eased fingers... into himself. It was shocking and unexpectedly hot. Ed knew about this of course, Roy often had slick fingers inside of him. The last time he'd done so had been the night in the barn, the first and only time they properly made love, but to see someone else do it, and to themselves… Ed felt both a bit like a voyeur and rather turned on.
“You like watching me do this,” Ray said above him, face mostly blanketed in shadow. “Does this turn you on, Ed?”
No sense in lying to the man. Ed nodded and reached up to rub Ray's thighs. Ray smirked, then Ed felt his own hard cock grabbed and fisted for a moment with the oil slick fingers that were just a moment ago inside Ray's body. Ray lowered himself, still holding Ed's cock.
Ed arched his head back for a moment. It was the most unusual sensation at first, and then it was bliss. He was encased tightly, then there was a roll of muscle all the way down his hard length. He licked his lips and his fingers tightened on Ray's thighs.
“You've never been on top before,” Ray said to him, leaning over him. “Not that you're really on top, but the term applies. Imagine that, that's not something I expected.”
Ed tried to form words, but that required thought and thought was beyond him. Ray began to move himself slowly, up and down. Ed's fingers dug into his thighs hard. In a haze, Ed thought it might be painful, but Ray made no protest.
“Fuck me. Ed,” Ray whispered in the darkness. “Show me what you're made of,” he hissed. This, Ed understood. He vaguely registered the slamming of the headboard into the wall and the harsh pants and grunts from the darkness above him. His hands moved from Ray's thighs to his hips, pulling down on them as he arched up with his hips. He wanted deeper, he wanted harder, he wanted faster, he wanted more. Ray was suddenly laughing and Ed didn't know why, but then he didn't care why. He came and light exploded somewhere behind his eyes; when he could see again, he was nose to nose with Ray. Ray smirked, then leaned over and bit him on the shoulder again.
“I told you that fuckin' hurts,” Ed growled.
“Give as good as you get,” Ray said. “You'll get to return the favor,” he nipped again and laughed when Ed moved to shove him off. He let himself be rolled, lay for a moment at Ed's side, then sat up, stood and stretched.
“Stay,” Ed mumbled from the rumpled blankets and sheets.
“What? No Ed, Greta might come in early,” Ray said and picked up his pants. “Besides, if you're going to gripe at me about a few love bites...”
Ed's brow furrowed. He didn't like being bitten. Roy never bit him. This isn't Roy.
“Well, I'm not used to it,” Ed offered. “We can get up early, tell Greta you came in early,” he asked again.
Ray shook his head and got dressed. He went over, sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Ed's hair.
“You know, I really like you,” Ray said. “But you need to loosen up on these hangs ups of yours. I don't want to bed a kid.”
Ed struggled hard to hold his temper, struggled not to reach up and shove the hand petting his hair away. The bastard had no right to talk to him like this, he wasn't a fucking kid. He was 21 years old.
I don't want to be alone. This isn't Roy. I want to go home. This isn't Roy. NO, it's not Roy! But if I can just have this...
“I'm sorry,” Ed heard himself say. “I've only had one... lover before you, he was different and I was... younger.” I am not apologizing, you bastard! I'm not!
“Don't be sorry, just be better,” Ray said standing. “I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, but I can't go out with you tomorrow night. I've got other plans.”
Ed's heart leapt into his throat. He half pushed up on his hands and hip.
“What other plans?” Ed asked. Was that his voice? Did he sound that fucking pathetic?
“Adelle,” Ray said and grinned. “She works over in the market, you know the one. Taller than you, darker blonde.”
Ed could only hear his own heart pounding in his ears for several long moments. He bit his bottom lip savagely.
Don't fucking beg him to come afterwards!
“Well, what about after? I could wait up,” Ed said.
Ray looked at him for a long moment, then shook his head and gave a small laugh.
“Okay Ed,” he said, turning toward the door. “If you want it that bad.” He gave a wave over his shoulder as he walked out of the back room.
What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck is wrong with me? HE'S NOT ROY!
Ed fell back to the bed and ground his forehead into the pillow.
It's all I have left of home.
***
The first time Ray tried to tie him up, Ed fought him. For a few moments, Ray indulged him, chuckling, but then he got a knee in the stomach. He had glared at Ed long and hard, then threw himself off the bed and went for his clothes.
“If you’re not going to indulge me, then you must not want me very much. Let’s just end this now; it’s a farce at best. I think I like women too much. You look like a woman sometimes with all this hair; that must have been the attraction. Why would I want you to touch me with that dead hand anyway?” Ray growled as he dragged on his clothes.
“No, wait,” Ed said, getting up, ”I didn't mean it... Ray...”
Ray stiffened as Ed touched his back, but refused to look at him. Ed moved up against his back slowly, putting his arms around him.
“You kneed me in the stomach,” Ray said angrily.
“I'm sorry; I just have this aversion...” Ed said.
“Everything with you is some kind of issue. I don't know about this anymore, Ed,” Ray said, but didn't try to loosen Ed's arms.
“I'm sorry,” Ed said again. “Just come back to bed, I'll try... Please, Ray...”
He's not Roy, don't fucking beg him, it's not worth it! Listen to yourself! What is this thing you're becoming?!
Ray snorted, sighed and shrugged Ed off, beginning to undress again. Ed returned to the bed, held his arms out when Ray came back and grit his teeth when Ray shoved his hands above his head, tying him to the headboard. He cried out and came before Ray was through. Panting and watching Ray sit up, he felt Ray trail his hand down Ed's prone body.
“I should just leave you like that for Greta to find when she comes to wake you for breakfast in the morning. Then they could all see what a pervert you really are, wanting another man’s touch. I should be disgusted, but I feel sorry for you. You should be grateful, no one likes a cripple,” Ray said and shook his head.
“I know you're just saying that because you're still angry,” Ed said lowly and swallowed.
“I think this will be the last time, I just don’t find you all that appealing,” Ray sighed and pulled his hand away.
Ed pulled at his bound hands then turned his head away. He felt Ray reach up and free him, then he turned on his side and curled up.
I don't fucking need him! He's not ROY! He's just a bastard who looks like him and sounds like him. He's fucked up, he wants to fuck me up.
He blinked hard when he felt Ray's lips on his ear, then down the side of his neck. The gentleness was unnerving and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean that,” Ray said. “But I think I need some time to think about this. Don't wait up for a few nights; I need to get my head clear.”
Ed nodded, not trusting himself to speak with any steadiness. He listened to Ray get up, get dressed and heard the door bell chime as he left.
I don't need him. I'm fine and I can have a life here without him. When he comes back, I will tell him that I had time to think about it too and it's not what I want either. It will be fine, I will be fine.
It was the longest five days of his life to date and he cursed himself as he let Ray undress him in the darkness of his room that night.
***
The fifth year of his existence, (because he no longer considered it his life), found him with Greta's cold regards, Herr Gerhardt's disappointment and his fear of doing something to anger his lover. Ray deigned to be with him on the New Years and for that at least, he was grateful.
Because Greta found it better she pursue other things, she was seldom in the office. Herr Gerhardt took to sending messengers more often than not and so Ray was the only familiar face he ever welcomed in anymore.
One night, as they sat at the table in the back room, Ray leaned on his elbow and said, “Do you believe in magic?”
“Magic?” Ed said, looking up from his dinner. “No, that's child's nonsense.”
“So, no whimsy for you,” Ray said. “No dancing naked in the moonlight when the planets are aligned. No making fairy circles, no offerings to call on the energies of the world to grant your wishes?”
Ed pushed his boiled potato across his plate and frowned.
“What brought this on?” Ed said slowly.
“I was reading in the paper, the planets are going to be in the house of the sun or some other such nonsense on a full moon,” Ray said. “Just fancy, I thought about a drive to the country to have a look. Maybe a night in an inn somewhere.”
Ed's heart leapt and he tried to slow it down. Ray was always offering... scraps; a new book, a new pair of gloves, an insult or a bite. At least his need to lash Ed to the bed had abated of late, he'd even let Ed be 'on top'. Maybe he was changing, maybe Ed's patience was paying off, maybe this meant something. Maybe he could dare to think he might have a life again.
“That sounds rather spontaneous of you,” Ed said. “Do you think Herr Gerhardt would let you off for a day?”
“Well if you'd rather not,” Ray sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“It's not that,” Ed said hastily. “I could ask Greta to mind the office. I just thought we could make a proper trip of it.”
Maybe we could just keep going and not look back.
Ray smiled at him then and Ed forced the lump in his throat to swallow. Ray stood up, walked over to the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. Ed got up and moved the dishes to the sink, leaving them for later. He went over to Ray, undid the buttons on his cuffs, kissed his chest and Ray worked the tie out of Ed's ponytail.
Ray pushed him back then and Ed fell onto the bed, grinning when Ray opened his belt and pushed up his shirt, then pulled his pants to his knees.
“A day of it, a magic day. You know, they say all sorts of things happen when the planets line up: gateways open,” Ray said, undoing his own pants and drawing himself out. He stroked himself slowly and looked down at Ed.
“Gateway?” Ed muttered, eyes fixed on Ray's hand, on Ray's cock. Already, he could feel himself stirring, hardening. Ray leaned over him then, mouthed his cock and reached down to pull his shoes off, then pushed Ed's pants the rest of the way off and onto the floor.
Ed arched up a bit, moaned softly and relaxed. It had been a hectic day, full of columns of numbers and things that needed to be filed. He'd looked forward to tonight, of having Ray over him, of a climax that might let him sleep without dreams.
Ray caught his wrists suddenly and pinned them above his head; Ed parted his legs and Ray moved between them.
“I can't believe you've forgotten about the gateway,” Ray said, smiling down at him. “But you know, it takes more than just things being in tune, it takes the right offering. It takes blood.”
Ed blinked. Something about the tone of Ray's voice, the words he thought he'd just heard… He began dragging his mind from his lust-induced haze.
“What are you talking about?” Ed said and pulled on his wrists a little, they might as well have been bound in steel.
Ray's cock nudged his entrance and Ed felt nervous. He almost felt the need to shy from the contact, but Ray suddenly pushed up on the bed on his knees, his actions forcing Ed's parted legs to open wider, to offer himself up. The dim bulb from the kitchen area was still on and it played across Ray's face.
“I know the way home, FullMetal Pipsqueak,” Ray said, “and I need you to get me there.”
NO!
NO!
Ed slammed up with his body, but he could not free his wrists and he twisted his head, trying to sink his teeth into the nearest arm.
“What's wrong,” Ray grinned down at him, “I thought you didn't like biting. Why all the resistance now, you've been spreading your legs for me for almost an entire year,” Envy laughed loudly, and Roy's face grinned down at him. His eyes flashed dully in the dim light, no longer black.
“Aren't you glad to see me?” the monster crooned. “Doesn't this feel like home?” He slammed in. Ed arched his head back and screamed, but no one would hear him, no one would come. “You begged me for this,” Envy said as he began to thrust. “You all but crawled on your knees for me,” Roy's face moved to hang close to his. Ed thrust his head forward, snapping at his nose, but Envy drew back and laughed again. “Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he chortled, his pace fast, hard and sadistic.
Nausea rose and Ed panted against it. The pace was brutal and he was dry, it burned and it hurt as Roy's face swam in his view and Envy's voice taunted him above it all.
“FUCKER,” Ed screamed, “Get off of me! Get off of me! I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU!” Ed howled.
Envy leered down at him, ground into him and squeezed his flesh wrist until he couldn't feel his fingers.
“You know, it was drinking the old man's blood that let me shape shift,” he said. “But it's almost gone now. I didn't realize I could have used it to get back, get out of this stinking cesspool that bastard Hohenhiem let himself be trapped in, but now I have you, I have you. You're going to take me home, Ed. Aren't you happy? Aren't you glad? I'll be home and you'll be free. You'll be dead, but you'll be free.”
Ed's vision was starting to tunnel. He just wanted it to be over with; if only he'd stop. He tried slamming his false knee into Envy's side, but it did little good, it just went on and on and on.
“How easily you were lead to slaughter,” Envy said. “I only had to bide my time, to wait and study and know how the energies of this miserable plane pulsed. Then I learned you were here and it took some doing to find you, but I guessed right, didn't I? I guessed why you were at the beck and call of that pathetic Colonel,” Envy laughed again. “I'm sure he's dead now, I'm sure Pride dealt with him.”
Ed tasted blood; he'd bitten through his own lip. Don't listen to the monster's lies. DON'T LISTEN TO HIS LIES!
“Oh, let's not waste that,” Envy leaned down, darted his tongue over Ed's lip and whipped back faster than Ed's teeth could close.
“Fucking finish,” Ed panted. “Fucking get it over with.”
“I guess I can give you that much. You know, playing you like a fiddle took a lot of hard work, it will be nice to be able to let loose for a change,” the homunculus said with a grin, then bowed his head and began to move his hips as he liked.
Ed passed out soon after.
RETURN TO PART ONE.
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