RetsuMatsuro (retsumatsuro) wrote in fm_alchemist,

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Oh God, please be gentle with it! ;-;

I wrote this up this morning, and... am... posting it.

Title: Counterpoint
Author: RetsuMatsuro
Rating: NC-17 for secks and angst
Word count: 1,422
Pairings or characters involved: Roy, King Bradley, Ed!Envy, Ed
Notes: There's angst in this story. Serious angst. Especially at the end. And some minor things that hint to sex. If I remember correctly there may actually be parts that involve sex. I don't remember. Yeah... All I ask is that you please be gentle. Please. Please! o.o;

Roy was jerked out of a dead sleep by a noise out in his kitchen. In the darkness he could hear someone moving about, the sound of soft whispered voices catching his attention. As his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness he guessed the time around one, maybe two in the morning. What, was it that time already? His stomach heaved and he considered running to the bathroom right then and there, but he didn’t dare move. In fact he hardly dared to breathe staring wide eyed at the door hoping, praying that he was just dreaming. The anticipation was almost too much for him to take.


He could feel cold sweat running down the side of his face, and as the hallway light outside of his room flicked on and shadows passed by his door he carefully rolled over onto his side his hand groping for the nightstand table. Upon finding it he pulled the drawer upon shifting various objects around inside before his fingers curled around something cold and steel. He lifted the gun from the drawer with a quiet kind of ease still keeping one eye on the door warily. Again the padding of footsteps outside the door. He didn’t want to do it tonight. He didn’t think he could bare to do it tonight, he was sore, and tired, and it was degrading.


“Go on Mustang.” He could hear Bradley urging in his ear as his head bobbed up and down. “Put some back into it, there you go, just like that. He likes it like that.”


Roy wanted to cry just thinking about it, but he couldn’t. Guys like him didn’t cry. Tough guys. Strong guys. Guys that took a lot of shit from other people and carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. He looked down at the silhouette of the gun in the darkness, before back up at the door. King Bradley would often bring a friend into Roy’s house, and they’d do as they pleased for a couple of hours before jerking Roy out of a dead sleep to ravage him, and all for the sake of a fucking promotion that he was never going to get. Roy knew it. But he kept going on, he kept driving himself to believe that one day he’d be able to over throw that perverted bastard and he’d become Fuhrer. That day was never going to come, and he knew it. He fucking knew it. So what in the hell was the point anymore?


Ed’s face flashed in his mind as the door slid open. He could see the tall form of Bradley, and behind him the much shorter form of someone… “Come along, Elric.” King Bradley ordered. Before Roy could stuff the gun away and hide it Bradley had spotted it, making a disappointed tsking noise. “Roy, you disappoint me.” He said with a sad sigh striding as if through water over to the bed. With one fluent motion he reached out taking the gun out of Roy’s hand. The Flame Alchemist struggled for a minute before Bradley squeezed his wrist twisting it at an angle that threatened to break it. The gun dropped, and Roy let out a strangled sob. “Not tonight, please…”


“You’re pathetic.” Bradley chided his one visible eye narrowed dangerously. “And here I brought you something you might like.”


Looking as pathetic as Bradley had made him out to be in that one accusing word Roy turned to look at Ed who stood there expectantly with his hands on his hips. “Ed… Please…” Roy begged.


But Ed didn’t seem to want to listen to the brain in his head as he unzipped his pants. “I hear you’re pretty good at giving head.”


Roy remembered the first time vividly. It had been on Bradley himself, and he’d gagged and choked, and nearly vomited but he’d had to do it for hours, until his mouth hurt and his neck was sore, until he’d satisfied Bradley. And they’d done it for a week straight, until Roy was good enough at it for the Fuhrer to bring some friends in, a different one each night for Roy to perform favors on. It was degrading, and he’d often thought of running. Bradley would find him though. He’d find him and make him pay for his insubordination to not only the military but to his lust.


It took hours, long agonizing painful hours, the threesome game going on until the sun was just about to rise. Bradley never stayed long enough for the light to fill the whole room. His wife always got up at the crack of dawn and he had to be there to greet her, lest she think he was up to something. Roy grabbed at Ed’s coat as the boy went to follow Bradley. “Ed, please…” Roy wanted an explanation. It just didn’t seem like the blonde teen.


As Ed tugged his coat away he smirked. It was the kind of smirk that chilled someone to the very bone, and Roy instantly withdrew. It wasn’t Ed. That wasn’t the kind of smirk Ed gave. It wasn’t Ed…


But that had to of been Ed, there was no other explanation for it. It wasn’t like there was someone out there that could automatically change into Ed. It hurt to watch the blonde follow his greatest enemy. He’d trusted Ed. He’d offered his greatest fears and dreams to Ed. And now look what he’d done… He’d left Roy to lay naked and broken on the bed trying his hardest to fend off the threatening tears. What had he done to deserve such a cruel punishment? Had it been all the people he’d tortured and stepped on to get to even the small rank he was then? Was it Hughes? Was Hughes angry that he was still alive? Was it the countless number of people he’d killed while on the battlefield? No matter how hard he tried to repent those horrible faces contorted with the pain of their bodies burning, or being shot straight through lived vividly in his memories. He couldn’t do anything about it, and they wouldn’t go away.


And neither would the visuals of Bradley and his friends using and abusing him like he was some fucking toy. Like he was something they could molest and throw away. Of Ed’s horrible smirk, of how he moaned like a whore as Roy gave him probably the best head he’d ever receive, or when Roy had been placed in the middle and as Bradley thrust, he thrust, and Ed screamed with a sort of orgasmic joy calling him every derogative name under the sun and telling him to give him more.


Roy reached around his hand sliding along the bed before it hit cold steel. The gun. The gun he’d nearly got his wrist broke over hours ago. It felt like years ago now, but there was the gun. The gun was his only friend now, and he knew it. The gun would make it all go away, it would make those faces go away, those horrible screaming faces. It would make the leering face of Bradley as he stole Roy’s pride and dignity away disappear too. He’d like that. To never have to suffer like that again. The things he had to live for were lost to him now anyways, if Ed was going to play pet to Bradley and use him as a fuck toy then discard him to the side. Ed and Al were both lost to him then. Roy sucked in his breath lifting the gun to his mouth. Squeezing his eyes shut he pulled the trigger and…



Ed looked up as King Bradley, followed by an unknown military officer stepped of Roy’s house. A shiver went down Ed’s spine as the two passed, and he stood there to watch them go half in the house, half out a hand on the door. The officer following at Bradley’s footsteps turned and smirked. Ed knew that smirk. It was the smirk of a creature he loathed, and Ed’ heart skipped a beat as he watched the features of the officer contort and change until he was Envy in the military’s uniform instead of the officer. Ed opened his mouth to call out to the Fuhrer, but something stopped him and he only stared until they were out of view, golden eyes wide before he turned to rush into the house. What had they done to Roy?!








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