The Binary Alchemist (binaryalchemist) wrote in fm_alchemist,
The Binary Alchemist

Bishonen Justice League: "The Gentleman's Gentleman (Is No Gentleman)"

Fic: "The Gentleman's Gentleman (Is No Gentleman)": A Bishonen Justice League Side Story
By [info]binaryalchemist  -- for [info]nochick_fics 
Rating: NC 17--needless to say, this is SMUT. Out and out unredeemable pr0n...and Crack to the Max
Paring: Roy/Sebastian, Ed/Roy, Ryuk lusting for Light
We submit for your most kindly perusal a tale of a Stately Butler--a Gentleman's Gentleman--who has found that the salary offered by him to serve in the Stud Room at the BJL to be more miserly than he would prefer...thus, a discussion was had over dinner...
Type your cut contents here

The Gentleman’s Gentleman:

An FMA/Black Butler Crossover Tale

By The Binary Alchemist



            “Two-fuckin’-a.m. No wonder I’m starving!”  Ed slammed the covers shut, rubbed his eyes and heeded the rumbling in his belly. Nothing like a light snack…and a blowjob…to help a young man get a good night’s sleep. Well, it beat the hell out of warm milk, anyway.  Besides, now that the BJL had full time staff things had gotten a damn sight cushier around the ol’ Stud Room. “Hell, I don’t even have to worry about that pissy Soubi leaving catnip joints in the ashtrays anymore, and there’s always something good in the fridge.” Although exactly how it got there and where it was being cooked was a bit baffling, seeing as they had nothing more than a fridge and a microwave. That new servant was a bit creepy, though. Hot, but creepy—red eyes like that goddamn---

            ….like a goddamn shinigami.

            “Ryuk? What the hell are you doing, following me around?”

            “I wanted…a….Light…snack. I heard Yagami and L. were…sucking the cream out of some cannelloni that the new guy made this evening….”

            “And you wanted to watch? Sick fuck,” Ed grumbled.

            “He said there were….apples…in the cooler.”

            “Who? Sebastian? Yeah. He’s roasting us a pheasant with apple and current dressing. Weird shit, but it smelled good. I missed dinner, so I figured I’d tear off a piece before going upstairs and--
            “—tearing off a piece?”

            “—aw, fuck off. Jeeze, you give me the creeps, with stupid grin. You look like the goddamned Joker, dressed up like a zombie drag queen—and Light says you’ve got the sickest, most perverted sense of humor in the whole friggin’ League…”

            He booted the door open and immediately reevaulated his previous statement.

            There was a banquet laid out on the boardroom table. The roasted pheasant, tucked into it’s gaudy plumage for presentation, made an impressive centerpiece, lit as it was by a thousand flickering candles that hung upside down, suspended in mid air. It was a cheap knock off of a Harry Potter special effect, but Ed was too mortified to be sarcastic.

            “Ah. Master Elric. Good evening. I regret that you were not present to partake of the splendid supper your companions shared. There’s still a whole pheasant left for your midnight nosh, so to speak.  Would you care for light meat, dark meat…or,” he gestured towards the table, “perhaps I could interest you in some…stuffing?


            How the hell Sebastian had gotten Roy tied up like that was a mystery. Ankle to wrist, his body curved like some sort of obscene hobby horse that rocked back….and forth….and back…and forth…a ball gag making a passible bridle for his rider---that sark eye’d butler who’s elegant trousers had fallen to the tops of his polished shoes. He had slathered his rather generous nether parts with what appeared to be crème brulee and with a lazy finger  guided Roy’s speed and angle as he rocked back onto Sebastian’s member…and  rocked forward into…into…the….

            …into the main course.

            “Please—by all means, help yourself, and if the flesh seems a bit dry…well,” Sebastian’s eyes flickered like rubies for an instant, “I’m sure we’ll have a lovely bit of cream gravy  warmed up for you in a triffle.”


            Ed couldn’t help noticing that Roy’s gloves adorned the drumsticks like those little paper ruffles you saw on the legs of Thankstaking turkeys. “That’s….that…is…so…shit!

            “And you thought I was a bad influence around here,” Ryuk guffawed.


            “Wow! Great footage! Seriously, Mr. Michaelis, this will shoot the ratings through the roof!”

            Standing by the fridge, digicams and videocorders firing away, was the host of that top rated expose show, Hughes Life Is It Anyway? “So, Sebastian—do you think  airing this story will help you win your suit against the city for higher wages for domestic employees?”

            A tiny wrinkle appeared between silky black brows. “Mmmmmm…ahhh…I ….dare say….the…Colonel and I ….can…ah….ha….ahhhhh….COME….to an amicable…agreement….”

            “Wow…amazing. And Ed? What do you think?”

            Gold eyes glinted with malicious glee. “Be you he’d sell his soul to keep those pictures of him fuckin’ Yagami’s dinner off the front page.”

            Sebastian neatly blotted his forehead with one of Roy’s gloves, pulled out, buttoned his fly and flipped up Roy’s eyepatch, revealing a glowing purple pentagram…

            “Indeed, Master Elric. Indeed.”



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