Fic: In the Shadow of Four Walls (Envy/Kimbley)
Fandom: Hagaren
Pairing: Kimbley/Envy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Envy visits Kimbley in jail during the last days of his imprisonment.
AN: I originally wrote this before chap. 63 came out and the idea itself was partly inspired by Charle's Baudeliare's poem On Delacroix’s ‘Tasso in Prison’. I don't think you can notice the link, though.
On Delacroix’s ‘Tasso in Prison’
The poet in the dungeon--ragged, sick,
and trampling on a manuscript in shreds--
measures with a panic stricken glare
the dizzying stairs that swallow up his soul.
Beguiled by ghostly laughter in the air
his reason falters, grasps at phantom straws;
Doubt besieges him and imbecile Fears
in hideous yet ever-changing shapes…
This genius confined in a filthy hole,
these shrieks and grimaces, the spectral swarm
gibbering spitefully behind his ear,
this dreamer whom the madhouse horror wakes--
here is your emblem, visionary soul,
smothered by Reality between four walls!
Title: In the Shadow of the Four Walls
Kimbley’s eyes flickered in the yellow haze of the light bulb as Envy walked into his cell.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice not showing the slightest hint of surprise, not that Envy expected any. “Look who’s decided to grace me with his presence.”
He set down the book he was reading, placing it on the floor beside the bed. Envy caught the name of a foreign poet emblazoned on its grey-blue cover. He locked the cell door behind him with one hand, shifting out of his guard disguise.
“Poetry now, is it?” he asked, slipping the key inside his trouser pocket.
“Not much else to do but read. A prisoner must be excused his eccentricities.”
Kimbley lay down on his back across the cot, his feet propped up against the wall, one reclining atop the other. His hair spilled over the edge of the bed, loose like creeping vines streaming down the sides of stone building, claiming civilization for its own. It matched the wildness on his face. Envy loved it, it showed that even with those annoying wooden bars around his wrists his alchemist had not been tamed by these decrepit four walls and those bothersome guards who under different circumstances would be dead by his hands, hands of death, Envy’s personal toys, aside, of course, from the rest of Kimbley’s delicious body. He was Envy’s dog; no one else had a right to him.
“You don’t even come by to distract me anymore,” Kimbley said, scowling. “Its been two months since the last time I saw you.”
“I’m sorry,” Envy purred, adopting a falsely sweet voice. “Have you missed me?”
Kimbley chuckled. “Maybe I have. It does get a little boring when it’s just me and my right hand.”
Envy sat on the bed and reached between Kimbley’s legs. He grinned as the flesh beneath his hand hardened and Kimbley uncrossed his legs.
“Perhaps you’d prefer my right hand,” he said, leering at Kimbley‘s quickening eyes.
“If you’re going to do that, open my trousers. It’s uncomfortable like this.”
Envy obliged, taking Kimbley firmly in his hand. Kimbley’s eyelids fluttered closed, his breath deepening into a pleased rumble.
“That feels good.”
Envy stroked him at the unhurried pace he knew Kimbley liked to start with, his hand squeezing at the base, just enough for Kimbley to press his teeth against the inner edge of his bottom lip. Envy leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the head. Kimbley groaned, his hands straining against their restraints as they clenched into fists. His mouth opened in a barely restrained cry when Envy sucked him into his mouth completely. His head was nearly hanging off the mattress. Envy reveled in every tremble emerging from Kimbley’s flesh. He’s so wonderfully easy to please, so willing to give himself to him. He slipped his hand inside Kimbley’s shirt, feeling every one of the myriad scars that he’d left on his skin over the years, a web of blood and lust. At first he only touched him with the flat of his palm, but at the last moment, right before Kimbley was about to come, he sank his nails down, slashing across Kimbley’s ribs. Kimbley couldn’t keep back his cry this time.
Envy licked his lips as he let go, savoring his unique taste. It’d been too long since he’d last had the pleasure.
“I did miss that,” Kimbley murmured, his breath still deep and hurried.
Envy felt a rush of satisfaction as he looked at Kimbley’s contented face. He was particularly proud that he was the only one who could get such a delightfully dazed expression on Kimbley’s face. He leaned down and kissed him, taking his mouth as hungrily as he took his cock. Kimbley pressed his hands against his chest, making the wooden restraints dig uncomfortably into Envy’s flesh. Annoyed, Envy sat up, grabbed those loathsome pieces of wood, and ripped off the metal strips holding them together, throwing them to the far side of the cell. They struck the floor with a sharp clatter. Kimbley flexed his freed wrists, relishing his temporary liberty by stretching his arms out wide along the length of the bed.
“This feels nice,” he said, smiling as if his whole body had been released from prison and not just his hands.
“Good,” Envy said, unplucking Kimbley’s top shirt button from its hole. “You’re more agreeable when you’re relaxed.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m happy with you just because you gave me a blow job.”
Envy curved an elongated nail into Kimbley’s chest as he opened another button. A fleck of blood stained his finger.
“You’ve never known how to show any gratitude,” he said.
Glaring at him, Kimbley swatted his hand away, but he stopped, the back of his hand against Envy’s wrist. He grabbed Envy’s forearm, holding it tightly for a few seconds before laying his other hand on Envy’s sternum. He looked up at Envy, his brows knit with confusion.
“What happened to you?”
A tremor crashed through Envy‘s body.
“Nothing,” he said shortly. He shoved Kimbley’s hand away and tried to shake off Kimbley‘s hold on his arm, but Kimbley wouldn‘t let go.
“Your stone is less potent than it used to be.”
Envy ripped Kimbley’s hand off his arm and pushed it hard on the mattress. His hair stood up against the back of his neck, his eyes changing into their natural crimson, glaring at Kimbley with the sharp snarl of anger he hadn’t been able to appease.
Kimbley‘s face changed. He glared at Envy with a cold hardness that surprised him.
“Who’s been killing you?”
Envy’s hand loosened on Kimbley’s wrist. For a moment, he didn’t move, then he burst into a sharp laugh.
“Why? You worried about me? I’m touched, really. Or are you so deluded that you think that you are the only one who can kill me?”
“I’m the first one to ever have done so. I take pride in that.”
“Well,” Envy growled, “now you’re not the only one. Don’t worry. They’re taken care of.”
“Did you kill them?”
The ice edge of a sword flashed through his memory, ripping through his body with the laughing eyes of the newly created Greed.
“No,” he ground out, the word itself displeasing him. “But they’re out the way. I won’t let myself be killed even once more. Not even by you.”
Kimbley stared at him with a calculating expression, but Envy ignored him and finished opening his shirt, almost tearing off its buttons as he pulled it open. He roughly yanked Kimbley’s legs onto the bed and took off his trousers, throwing them on the floor. He wanted Kimbley naked, now. He put his hands on Kimbley’s thighs, looking hungrily at the feast before him, but Kimbley slithered across the bed, grabbed him by the hips and buried his head beneath his skirt. Envy grabbed the mattress, his eyes closing at the feel of Kimbley’s mouth. He leaned back, bracing himself on his arms, letting Kimbley do what he’s trained him so well to do. He hadn’t lost his touch, not in the two months Envy had been away. Kimbley pushed him back and Envy let him, stretching out on the bed, one leg curling around Kimbley’s back, his heel nudging his spine as Kimbley wrapped his tongue around the underside of his cock. He hissed, gripping Kimbley’s shoulders. His eyes shot open when he felt a finger roaming up his backside. Three fingers pushed inside without warning, pushing insistently against that part of him, and he saw flashes sparking in quick lashes of flame. He grabbed Kimbley’s hair, holding him still as he emptied himself inside his mouth.
His head fell to the side; the wrinkles in the bed sheet brushed against his closed eye. Kimbley laid his head on his hip and stroked his thigh, crawling little goose bumps on his skin.
“These people,” Kimbley said, “who are they?”
“An idiot prince of Xing and his retainer,” Envy said, not opening his eyes.
“Why didn’t you kill them?”
Now Envy looked up; he couldn’t see Kimbley’s face, but he knew that tight tension in his voice very well.
“You want to kill them yourself, is that it?” he said.
“Do you know how long it has been since I used these hands?” Kimbley’s eyes flashed as he raised his head, beating with the pure, ravenous anger of a beast held too long in confinement.
Envy had to hold back a laugh; Kimbley would be insulted. But it was such a joy to see the old fire in his eyes, not that it had ever gone away. If anything, it had increased, the slow ripening of a cask of rum enriching its juices from the wood that imprisons it. His Kimbley was always thirsty for the kill. Oh, how he did miss those days when he’d sit on a rooftop at Ishbal and watch Kimbley decimate entire streets with one clap of those magnificent hands. He’d never been happier than when he felt that raw power screaming in his blood, shaking the ground beneath his feet in a volatile flow that clutched his heart and made his spirit dance with ecstasy.
“I would love to let you rip them to pieces,” he said, stroking up Kimbley’s jaw. “But it’s really out of my hands.”
“Killing them or letting me out of here?”
“You never let up, do you?”
“Why would I? You don’t like having me locked up, either. I figure that one day, you might listen to me.” Kimbley’s hand climbed up Envy’s torso and into his shirt, settling over the center of his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Envy flopped back down on the mattress.
“I didn’t die that many times,” he said, annoyed. “Can you really feel it that much?”
“No. it’s subtle. That’s why I didn’t detect it at first. I only felt it when you got close. Why didn’t you kill them? Was it because you were forbidden to? Or because you couldn‘t?”
Envy’s hand twisted on the sheets. “Get your mouth on me again.”
He didn’t bother to look at Kimbley, just waited for him to either obey or fight him on it. But Kimbley didn’t say a word. He licked up Envy’s cock, getting him hard before taking him in his mouth. He didn’t stay there long, only sucked him long enough to get him wet. As soon as he lifted his head, Envy grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back on the bed. He pushed Kimbley’s legs up and entered him, sheathing himself inside in one quick movement. Kimbley griped his waist, biting his ribs with his nails, but the pain was so slight that Envy almost didn’t feel it, too fired up by the heat in Kimbley’s unblinking eyes, which didn’t flutter even as Envy thrust roughly, cruelly into him. Kimbley’s breath fought inside his throat, his mouth opening wide with the force of his exhalations.
“How is it,” Kimbley said, his voice trembling with his agitation of his breath, “that you can’t kill those that killed you?”
“They sensed me. The souls in the stone. Changing shapes didn’t work.”
Kimbley’s fingers slid on his skin. “Like me?”
“No. it wasn’t the stone itself. And they aren’t alchemists. But they’re strong for humans. They really pissed me off.”
Kimbley groaned, the tendons in his neck straining as Envy moved even harder.
“How then?” Kimbley gasped.
“Pride stopped the fight. Too many witnesses. I haven’t seen one of them again. She disappeared.” He moaned as Kimbley pulled himself up by his leg on Envy’s waist, taking him in deeper. “The other was made into a homunculus…by Father.”
“Was that the prince?”
“Yes.”
“I see…aah…“ Kimbley moaned as Envy raked his nails up his sides. “You can’t get back at him, then. Can you?”
Anger flickered up Envy’s spine. He tightened his fingers, not realizing how hard he was gripping until Kimbley hissed with genuine pain. He lifted a bloodied hand and grabbed Kimbley by the hair, pulling his head back sharply and exposing his trembling neck. He tasted that vulnerable flesh with his teeth, biting until the pale skin was red and tender. He could eat him right now. Kimbley’s breath shivered, his entire body shaking with the brutal force of Envy’s thrusts.
“You’re going to let such an insult go unpunished?”
Envy growled against his throat, a warning.
“I would at least maim him for my trouble.”
But the stubborn bastard just had to insist. Envy grabbed Kimbley’s arm and pushed it on the bed, his claws sinking into his forearm.
“Maybe I should just maim you to make me feel better,” he growled.
Kimbley looked up at him with an unbelievably amused face.
“You won’t,” he said.
Envy took him in his hand, squeezing to the point of pain as he stroked him. Kimbley gritted his teeth, his face twisting with pained pleasure. His eyes closed for a second, but he forced them back open, refusing to look away from Envy, who let Kimbley see the full terror of his smirking face.
“Don’t be so certain of my actions, Zolf,” he said, purring the name that he knew Kimbley hated.
Kimbley’s hand curled into a fist. But his eyes remained just as confident and arrogant.
“You won’t,” he said firmly.
Envy thrust once more and came, biting back the full strength of his cry. He fell on Kimbley, his hand slackening on his arm, taking no notice of anything but the fierce pleasure rumbling through his veins. Kimbley pushed his other hand aside and finished stroking himself so that he came soon after.
Envy waited for Kimbley’s breath to calm before speaking.
“You’re lucky,” he said, not lifting his head from Kimbley’s chest. “No one else would have survived this long with your insolence.”
“It’s only insolence if the person you’re insulting is better than you.”
“Arrogant alchemist.”
“Stuck-up homunculus.”
Envy slid out, letting Kimbley’s legs fall on the bed. He sat back on his legs and inspected the white stain Kimbley had left on his shirt. He shifted his body; when he changed back, the splotch was gone.
“What are you going to do about the prince?”
Envy glanced at Kimbley, who was looking at him with a interestingly intense look.
“Nothing,” he said. “Not yet. I know how to bide my time. The last Greed betrayed us. This one just might, too. Then, I‘m free to do whatever I want.”
“It’s so simple, isn’t it? To wait. It must be especially easy for someone who’s lived as long as you. How old are you, Envy?”
“Over two hundred. Why the sudden curiosity?”
“I’m 31 years old. And I’ve spent the last 6 of them in this dump. Most of them in this same cell. With nothing to do but read, jerk off, and wait for you to graciously concede me the gift of your presence.”
Envy leaned forward, placing one hand between Kimbley’s legs. “Do I sense a hint of displeasure?”
Kimbley braced himself up on his elbows. “When are you going to let me out of here?”
“Ah, there it is. The same question as always. You have no imagination.”
“And you never learn how to answer a simple question.”
Envy got up, stretching his body as he did so, lifting his arms high above his head. “What you need is patience. Everything will sort itself out.”
“I recall you saying something very similar about three years ago.”
“And things have sorted themselves out. You just need to wait a little.”
“I don’t think I’m willing to wait for however long a ‘little‘ is to you.”
“You’re going to have to. Unless you want to become a wanted fugitive. And then, Father might think that you’re too… unstable to use and make me put you down. And I really don’t want to do that.”
Envy walked across the cell and crouched down before the broken pieces of Kimbley’s wooden shackles. He picked up one of the mangled metal strips and looked it over. One of the nails was still stuck in it, but the other was lost somewhere among the cracks of the dirty floor. Well, he wasn’t going to look for it. He grabbed the boards and all the metal he could find and laid them on the bed. Kimbley glared at him, a tired expression that nevertheless never lost its fire. Kimbley knew the routine; it would be bothersome to explain it again.
“C’mon, then,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “I promise it’ll be the last time that you have to do it.”
Kimbley hesitated, but in the end he did it like he always did. He separated the metal strips and closed his hands over them. A familiar burst of faint blue light signaled the transmutation. He held out the fixed strips, along with their nails, with a reproachful hand, and Envy graciously received them. There was no need to act superior now; he derived enough satisfaction from making Kimbley fix his own restraints. It took no effort from his part for Kimbley to lay his hands across one of the boards, his wrists fitting snugly in the half-circle indentations. Envy put the other board atop them, placed one of the strips along the two, and drilled in the nails with his thumb. He did the same for all six strips, all twelve nails, imprisoning Kimbley by his own hand.
“I don’t believe your promises, Envy,” Kimbley said when he finished, his eyes fixed on the door behind him. “The next time you come in here, I will get out of here if I have to leave you splattered on the floor.”
Grinning maliciously, Envy leaned down and licked up Kimbley’s jaw.
“Now, now,” he murmured in his ear. “There’s no need for that.” He touched Kimbley’s palm, tracing the transmutation circle imprinted there with the tip of his finger. “You will use these again. Very soon. I swear.”
Kimbley looked at him with eyes that could cut through diamonds.
Pairing: Kimbley/Envy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Envy visits Kimbley in jail during the last days of his imprisonment.
AN: I originally wrote this before chap. 63 came out and the idea itself was partly inspired by Charle's Baudeliare's poem On Delacroix’s ‘Tasso in Prison’. I don't think you can notice the link, though.
On Delacroix’s ‘Tasso in Prison’
The poet in the dungeon--ragged, sick,
and trampling on a manuscript in shreds--
measures with a panic stricken glare
the dizzying stairs that swallow up his soul.
Beguiled by ghostly laughter in the air
his reason falters, grasps at phantom straws;
Doubt besieges him and imbecile Fears
in hideous yet ever-changing shapes…
This genius confined in a filthy hole,
these shrieks and grimaces, the spectral swarm
gibbering spitefully behind his ear,
this dreamer whom the madhouse horror wakes--
here is your emblem, visionary soul,
smothered by Reality between four walls!
Title: In the Shadow of the Four Walls
Kimbley’s eyes flickered in the yellow haze of the light bulb as Envy walked into his cell.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice not showing the slightest hint of surprise, not that Envy expected any. “Look who’s decided to grace me with his presence.”
He set down the book he was reading, placing it on the floor beside the bed. Envy caught the name of a foreign poet emblazoned on its grey-blue cover. He locked the cell door behind him with one hand, shifting out of his guard disguise.
“Poetry now, is it?” he asked, slipping the key inside his trouser pocket.
“Not much else to do but read. A prisoner must be excused his eccentricities.”
Kimbley lay down on his back across the cot, his feet propped up against the wall, one reclining atop the other. His hair spilled over the edge of the bed, loose like creeping vines streaming down the sides of stone building, claiming civilization for its own. It matched the wildness on his face. Envy loved it, it showed that even with those annoying wooden bars around his wrists his alchemist had not been tamed by these decrepit four walls and those bothersome guards who under different circumstances would be dead by his hands, hands of death, Envy’s personal toys, aside, of course, from the rest of Kimbley’s delicious body. He was Envy’s dog; no one else had a right to him.
“You don’t even come by to distract me anymore,” Kimbley said, scowling. “Its been two months since the last time I saw you.”
“I’m sorry,” Envy purred, adopting a falsely sweet voice. “Have you missed me?”
Kimbley chuckled. “Maybe I have. It does get a little boring when it’s just me and my right hand.”
Envy sat on the bed and reached between Kimbley’s legs. He grinned as the flesh beneath his hand hardened and Kimbley uncrossed his legs.
“Perhaps you’d prefer my right hand,” he said, leering at Kimbley‘s quickening eyes.
“If you’re going to do that, open my trousers. It’s uncomfortable like this.”
Envy obliged, taking Kimbley firmly in his hand. Kimbley’s eyelids fluttered closed, his breath deepening into a pleased rumble.
“That feels good.”
Envy stroked him at the unhurried pace he knew Kimbley liked to start with, his hand squeezing at the base, just enough for Kimbley to press his teeth against the inner edge of his bottom lip. Envy leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the head. Kimbley groaned, his hands straining against their restraints as they clenched into fists. His mouth opened in a barely restrained cry when Envy sucked him into his mouth completely. His head was nearly hanging off the mattress. Envy reveled in every tremble emerging from Kimbley’s flesh. He’s so wonderfully easy to please, so willing to give himself to him. He slipped his hand inside Kimbley’s shirt, feeling every one of the myriad scars that he’d left on his skin over the years, a web of blood and lust. At first he only touched him with the flat of his palm, but at the last moment, right before Kimbley was about to come, he sank his nails down, slashing across Kimbley’s ribs. Kimbley couldn’t keep back his cry this time.
Envy licked his lips as he let go, savoring his unique taste. It’d been too long since he’d last had the pleasure.
“I did miss that,” Kimbley murmured, his breath still deep and hurried.
Envy felt a rush of satisfaction as he looked at Kimbley’s contented face. He was particularly proud that he was the only one who could get such a delightfully dazed expression on Kimbley’s face. He leaned down and kissed him, taking his mouth as hungrily as he took his cock. Kimbley pressed his hands against his chest, making the wooden restraints dig uncomfortably into Envy’s flesh. Annoyed, Envy sat up, grabbed those loathsome pieces of wood, and ripped off the metal strips holding them together, throwing them to the far side of the cell. They struck the floor with a sharp clatter. Kimbley flexed his freed wrists, relishing his temporary liberty by stretching his arms out wide along the length of the bed.
“This feels nice,” he said, smiling as if his whole body had been released from prison and not just his hands.
“Good,” Envy said, unplucking Kimbley’s top shirt button from its hole. “You’re more agreeable when you’re relaxed.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m happy with you just because you gave me a blow job.”
Envy curved an elongated nail into Kimbley’s chest as he opened another button. A fleck of blood stained his finger.
“You’ve never known how to show any gratitude,” he said.
Glaring at him, Kimbley swatted his hand away, but he stopped, the back of his hand against Envy’s wrist. He grabbed Envy’s forearm, holding it tightly for a few seconds before laying his other hand on Envy’s sternum. He looked up at Envy, his brows knit with confusion.
“What happened to you?”
A tremor crashed through Envy‘s body.
“Nothing,” he said shortly. He shoved Kimbley’s hand away and tried to shake off Kimbley‘s hold on his arm, but Kimbley wouldn‘t let go.
“Your stone is less potent than it used to be.”
Envy ripped Kimbley’s hand off his arm and pushed it hard on the mattress. His hair stood up against the back of his neck, his eyes changing into their natural crimson, glaring at Kimbley with the sharp snarl of anger he hadn’t been able to appease.
Kimbley‘s face changed. He glared at Envy with a cold hardness that surprised him.
“Who’s been killing you?”
Envy’s hand loosened on Kimbley’s wrist. For a moment, he didn’t move, then he burst into a sharp laugh.
“Why? You worried about me? I’m touched, really. Or are you so deluded that you think that you are the only one who can kill me?”
“I’m the first one to ever have done so. I take pride in that.”
“Well,” Envy growled, “now you’re not the only one. Don’t worry. They’re taken care of.”
“Did you kill them?”
The ice edge of a sword flashed through his memory, ripping through his body with the laughing eyes of the newly created Greed.
“No,” he ground out, the word itself displeasing him. “But they’re out the way. I won’t let myself be killed even once more. Not even by you.”
Kimbley stared at him with a calculating expression, but Envy ignored him and finished opening his shirt, almost tearing off its buttons as he pulled it open. He roughly yanked Kimbley’s legs onto the bed and took off his trousers, throwing them on the floor. He wanted Kimbley naked, now. He put his hands on Kimbley’s thighs, looking hungrily at the feast before him, but Kimbley slithered across the bed, grabbed him by the hips and buried his head beneath his skirt. Envy grabbed the mattress, his eyes closing at the feel of Kimbley’s mouth. He leaned back, bracing himself on his arms, letting Kimbley do what he’s trained him so well to do. He hadn’t lost his touch, not in the two months Envy had been away. Kimbley pushed him back and Envy let him, stretching out on the bed, one leg curling around Kimbley’s back, his heel nudging his spine as Kimbley wrapped his tongue around the underside of his cock. He hissed, gripping Kimbley’s shoulders. His eyes shot open when he felt a finger roaming up his backside. Three fingers pushed inside without warning, pushing insistently against that part of him, and he saw flashes sparking in quick lashes of flame. He grabbed Kimbley’s hair, holding him still as he emptied himself inside his mouth.
His head fell to the side; the wrinkles in the bed sheet brushed against his closed eye. Kimbley laid his head on his hip and stroked his thigh, crawling little goose bumps on his skin.
“These people,” Kimbley said, “who are they?”
“An idiot prince of Xing and his retainer,” Envy said, not opening his eyes.
“Why didn’t you kill them?”
Now Envy looked up; he couldn’t see Kimbley’s face, but he knew that tight tension in his voice very well.
“You want to kill them yourself, is that it?” he said.
“Do you know how long it has been since I used these hands?” Kimbley’s eyes flashed as he raised his head, beating with the pure, ravenous anger of a beast held too long in confinement.
Envy had to hold back a laugh; Kimbley would be insulted. But it was such a joy to see the old fire in his eyes, not that it had ever gone away. If anything, it had increased, the slow ripening of a cask of rum enriching its juices from the wood that imprisons it. His Kimbley was always thirsty for the kill. Oh, how he did miss those days when he’d sit on a rooftop at Ishbal and watch Kimbley decimate entire streets with one clap of those magnificent hands. He’d never been happier than when he felt that raw power screaming in his blood, shaking the ground beneath his feet in a volatile flow that clutched his heart and made his spirit dance with ecstasy.
“I would love to let you rip them to pieces,” he said, stroking up Kimbley’s jaw. “But it’s really out of my hands.”
“Killing them or letting me out of here?”
“You never let up, do you?”
“Why would I? You don’t like having me locked up, either. I figure that one day, you might listen to me.” Kimbley’s hand climbed up Envy’s torso and into his shirt, settling over the center of his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Envy flopped back down on the mattress.
“I didn’t die that many times,” he said, annoyed. “Can you really feel it that much?”
“No. it’s subtle. That’s why I didn’t detect it at first. I only felt it when you got close. Why didn’t you kill them? Was it because you were forbidden to? Or because you couldn‘t?”
Envy’s hand twisted on the sheets. “Get your mouth on me again.”
He didn’t bother to look at Kimbley, just waited for him to either obey or fight him on it. But Kimbley didn’t say a word. He licked up Envy’s cock, getting him hard before taking him in his mouth. He didn’t stay there long, only sucked him long enough to get him wet. As soon as he lifted his head, Envy grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back on the bed. He pushed Kimbley’s legs up and entered him, sheathing himself inside in one quick movement. Kimbley griped his waist, biting his ribs with his nails, but the pain was so slight that Envy almost didn’t feel it, too fired up by the heat in Kimbley’s unblinking eyes, which didn’t flutter even as Envy thrust roughly, cruelly into him. Kimbley’s breath fought inside his throat, his mouth opening wide with the force of his exhalations.
“How is it,” Kimbley said, his voice trembling with his agitation of his breath, “that you can’t kill those that killed you?”
“They sensed me. The souls in the stone. Changing shapes didn’t work.”
Kimbley’s fingers slid on his skin. “Like me?”
“No. it wasn’t the stone itself. And they aren’t alchemists. But they’re strong for humans. They really pissed me off.”
Kimbley groaned, the tendons in his neck straining as Envy moved even harder.
“How then?” Kimbley gasped.
“Pride stopped the fight. Too many witnesses. I haven’t seen one of them again. She disappeared.” He moaned as Kimbley pulled himself up by his leg on Envy’s waist, taking him in deeper. “The other was made into a homunculus…by Father.”
“Was that the prince?”
“Yes.”
“I see…aah…“ Kimbley moaned as Envy raked his nails up his sides. “You can’t get back at him, then. Can you?”
Anger flickered up Envy’s spine. He tightened his fingers, not realizing how hard he was gripping until Kimbley hissed with genuine pain. He lifted a bloodied hand and grabbed Kimbley by the hair, pulling his head back sharply and exposing his trembling neck. He tasted that vulnerable flesh with his teeth, biting until the pale skin was red and tender. He could eat him right now. Kimbley’s breath shivered, his entire body shaking with the brutal force of Envy’s thrusts.
“You’re going to let such an insult go unpunished?”
Envy growled against his throat, a warning.
“I would at least maim him for my trouble.”
But the stubborn bastard just had to insist. Envy grabbed Kimbley’s arm and pushed it on the bed, his claws sinking into his forearm.
“Maybe I should just maim you to make me feel better,” he growled.
Kimbley looked up at him with an unbelievably amused face.
“You won’t,” he said.
Envy took him in his hand, squeezing to the point of pain as he stroked him. Kimbley gritted his teeth, his face twisting with pained pleasure. His eyes closed for a second, but he forced them back open, refusing to look away from Envy, who let Kimbley see the full terror of his smirking face.
“Don’t be so certain of my actions, Zolf,” he said, purring the name that he knew Kimbley hated.
Kimbley’s hand curled into a fist. But his eyes remained just as confident and arrogant.
“You won’t,” he said firmly.
Envy thrust once more and came, biting back the full strength of his cry. He fell on Kimbley, his hand slackening on his arm, taking no notice of anything but the fierce pleasure rumbling through his veins. Kimbley pushed his other hand aside and finished stroking himself so that he came soon after.
Envy waited for Kimbley’s breath to calm before speaking.
“You’re lucky,” he said, not lifting his head from Kimbley’s chest. “No one else would have survived this long with your insolence.”
“It’s only insolence if the person you’re insulting is better than you.”
“Arrogant alchemist.”
“Stuck-up homunculus.”
Envy slid out, letting Kimbley’s legs fall on the bed. He sat back on his legs and inspected the white stain Kimbley had left on his shirt. He shifted his body; when he changed back, the splotch was gone.
“What are you going to do about the prince?”
Envy glanced at Kimbley, who was looking at him with a interestingly intense look.
“Nothing,” he said. “Not yet. I know how to bide my time. The last Greed betrayed us. This one just might, too. Then, I‘m free to do whatever I want.”
“It’s so simple, isn’t it? To wait. It must be especially easy for someone who’s lived as long as you. How old are you, Envy?”
“Over two hundred. Why the sudden curiosity?”
“I’m 31 years old. And I’ve spent the last 6 of them in this dump. Most of them in this same cell. With nothing to do but read, jerk off, and wait for you to graciously concede me the gift of your presence.”
Envy leaned forward, placing one hand between Kimbley’s legs. “Do I sense a hint of displeasure?”
Kimbley braced himself up on his elbows. “When are you going to let me out of here?”
“Ah, there it is. The same question as always. You have no imagination.”
“And you never learn how to answer a simple question.”
Envy got up, stretching his body as he did so, lifting his arms high above his head. “What you need is patience. Everything will sort itself out.”
“I recall you saying something very similar about three years ago.”
“And things have sorted themselves out. You just need to wait a little.”
“I don’t think I’m willing to wait for however long a ‘little‘ is to you.”
“You’re going to have to. Unless you want to become a wanted fugitive. And then, Father might think that you’re too… unstable to use and make me put you down. And I really don’t want to do that.”
Envy walked across the cell and crouched down before the broken pieces of Kimbley’s wooden shackles. He picked up one of the mangled metal strips and looked it over. One of the nails was still stuck in it, but the other was lost somewhere among the cracks of the dirty floor. Well, he wasn’t going to look for it. He grabbed the boards and all the metal he could find and laid them on the bed. Kimbley glared at him, a tired expression that nevertheless never lost its fire. Kimbley knew the routine; it would be bothersome to explain it again.
“C’mon, then,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “I promise it’ll be the last time that you have to do it.”
Kimbley hesitated, but in the end he did it like he always did. He separated the metal strips and closed his hands over them. A familiar burst of faint blue light signaled the transmutation. He held out the fixed strips, along with their nails, with a reproachful hand, and Envy graciously received them. There was no need to act superior now; he derived enough satisfaction from making Kimbley fix his own restraints. It took no effort from his part for Kimbley to lay his hands across one of the boards, his wrists fitting snugly in the half-circle indentations. Envy put the other board atop them, placed one of the strips along the two, and drilled in the nails with his thumb. He did the same for all six strips, all twelve nails, imprisoning Kimbley by his own hand.
“I don’t believe your promises, Envy,” Kimbley said when he finished, his eyes fixed on the door behind him. “The next time you come in here, I will get out of here if I have to leave you splattered on the floor.”
Grinning maliciously, Envy leaned down and licked up Kimbley’s jaw.
“Now, now,” he murmured in his ear. “There’s no need for that.” He touched Kimbley’s palm, tracing the transmutation circle imprinted there with the tip of his finger. “You will use these again. Very soon. I swear.”
Kimbley looked at him with eyes that could cut through diamonds.