#hve sat on this for like three days. did not realize a Week was happening. decided fuck it i can clean this up and post it
Text
Carrot Top- 13: Punished
I guess these chapters are getting progressively longer and longer. I think I’m okay with that. As always, my inbox is always open with any questions about the story/characters/world/tag list/etc, or if you just want to talk! So anyways, here’s part 13! (Side note: I didn’t expect to actually continue so far with this and have it have so many parts, but I’ve already got 18 chapters written and a whole storyline, so I guess there’s no turning back now.)
CW: (Finally a bit of fluff/comfort) not for long though, restraints, muzzled, dehumanization, captivity, non con touching (nonsexual), possessive whumper, blood.
Tag list: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus
The next 24 hours while Andrew continued to rest from Howe’s procedure were arguably worse than some of the previous times he’d been alone with Splice.
He was constantly bothered.
After Splice had placed the muzzle on and left, Howe came in looking exasperated. He cut open the leg of his pants, and stitched up Andrew’s leg as best as he could before putting the boy back to sleep. When he finally woke up a while later, Splice came in just to torment him. He gave him another grammar lesson- removing the muzzle for a few minutes just to hear Andrew plead and beg out of fear. He would wait for the boy to give him the answers that he wanted before placing it back on his face again.
That happened several times. And by the third or fourth lesson, Andrew began to believe it. The words that he was forced to repeat echoed over and over in his mind.
He belonged to Splice.
He was an object to be used whenever, and wherever that he saw fit.
Because he deserved it.
- - -
When his chest had healed enough for Howe to remove the bands holding him down, the boy found that he still couldn’t move.
It was as if his limbs didn’t work. They were stiff and achy from being stuck in the same position for so long, his body weakened and deprived. He let out a weak cry as he attempted to bring a hand up to his face. He barely got his wrist off of the table before the muscles in his arm gave out, crashing back down.
The doctor placed a gentle hand on his back and lifted him up to sitting. Andrew whined through the muzzle as his muscles flared up, and his head lolled to his chest. Howe began to rub the feeling back into the boy’s arms, stimulating his muscles, making sure they still worked.
With the Doctor’s help, he guided the boy to the other side of the room. No doubt he would have carried him if he could, but the boy was at least a head taller than Howe. As Andrew’s toes met the floor, his legs immediately buckled under his weight. If it were not for the Doctor’s steady arm around his back, Andrew would have crashed to the floor.
It took a few moments for the boy to regain some balance before they were able to move away from the table. Andrew limped drastically, putting most of his weight on one leg, and the doctor, as he shuffled and dragged his feet trying to keep himself upright.
Howe helped him change into some cleaner cotton pants- the same grey capris from earlier- and pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head. He sat the boy down on the edge of the soft bed he had initially been placed in when he first met Howe.
Andrew immediately sank into the softer material. It was much nicer than the examination table- far more comfortable. It had soft sheets, and a thin blanket with an old pillow, but it was comfortable.
To Andrew it felt like a cloud. Like he was floating.
He let his body fall into the soft bed as his muscles collapsed underneath him, letting the material of the mattress contour to his aching body- cradling him in the comfort. He didn’t put up a fight or a struggle when Howe restrained his ankles to the bottom of the bed.
The boy curled over on his side, tucking his hands to his chest as the blanket was pulled over top of him.
He huffed a small sigh of relief and comfort as he nuzzled his head up against the pillow.
He’d cherish this while he had it, because he knew it wouldn’t last long.
- - -
When Andrew was healed enough to no longer need the constant watchful eye of Howe, he was moved to a cell.
Well, they called it his room, but it was essentially a cell.
It was kept inside of the nicer part of the building, the part that connected to the lavish mansion that Splice lived in. Andrew could tell that it was originally meant to be an office, a storage room or something. But all the walls were bare- there were no windows, no outlets, or a lightswitch or anything. The only thing inside the room was a small closet in the corner furnished with a toilet, a cot with a single blanket, and a bench on the opposite side of the room.
Everything was bolted into the tiled floor.
The door was always heavily bolted from the outside, and guarded with at least two people. Andrew was monitored whenever he left the room, and whenever he came back. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were cameras hidden in the small room as well.
It had been three days since he’d been moved from that medical room.
And once he’d realized he’d been here over a week, he knew no one was coming anytime soon.
His friends were mad at him, surely.
He’d gotten into a fight with Justin before he left, and it was all his fault. Ali would surely take his side.
All he could think was that if he hadn’t gotten mad at them, hadn’t wandered off on his own, he wouldn’t be here now.
So Splice was right.
He deserved it.
Andrew laid on his back on the cot. He had his feet wrapped up in the blanket, the rest of him exposed. His feet were always cold. He wouldn’t dare to ask for something as small as a pair of socks.
Maybe he could ask for a book or something. Or even a pad of paper- he’d been thinking of taking up drawing again. It was something he was really into during high school, but he’d lost it over the years.
He just wanted something simple to fight the boredom.
Something to fight against the monotony.
Wake up, eat, endure through whatever the heck Splice felt like doing that day, eat again, sleep. And repeat.
Most days were filled with examinations. He sat in a room filled with “doctors” (the fake ones that Howe had talked about), and was poked and prodded and violated and examined and tested on.
After all, that’s what Splice did here. He captured their kind, people with their abilities, to examine and experiment on them and see how they worked.
And then he used those experiments to genetically modify their abilities.
Some days when Splice got upset, he would take it out on Andrew. There was never a moment the boy went without pain, or discomfort. Constant fear, anxiety, and trauma, invaded his new day-to-day.
A knock sounded on the door.
Here we go again.
Splice sauntered into the room, carrying a small plate and a glass of water.
“Good morning carrot top!”
The boy immediately scrambled back into the corner of the wall upon seeing the man but quickly stopped himself.
Splice chuckled. “One of these days you’ll stop acting so scared when you see me. Do I really frighten you that much?”
Andrew paused. Should he answer? The man had taught him many things while he had been there. The consequences that came from talking out of turn had been one of them.
“N- no sir. Sorry sir.” He lowered his head towards the bed and tried to steady the shaking in his limbs as the man stepped closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and held out the plate.
“Eat up. Come on now.”
Andrew tentatively took the plate. A single piece of toast with a protein spread on it. He gingerly took a bite and kept his eyes down as he chewed.
When he finally managed to choke down his breakfast, the man handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank.
Splice removed the blanket from his feet and unattached the chains that kept him tied down to the cot. On shaky legs he managed to rise and move to the closet in the corner to use the bathroom. When he was done, he limped back to the bed and sat down on the cot.
Splice reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out Andrew’s least favorite part of the day.
The muzzle.
The foul thing was taken off while he slept and while he ate. Other than for those few times, he was constantly forced to wear it.
He saw the thick leather coming towards his face and imagined the bit in his mouth. All he could feel was it suffocating him, trapping in his breath and his words. Making it hard to swallow, forcing him to choke on his own blood, and vomit. He was sick of wearing it constantly. He wanted to be able to speak he wanted to breathe freely, he wanted to-
“--no.”
The word came out before he realized what he had said. He clamped his hands over his mouth and shook his head. The tears already poured down his face as Splice recoiled in shock.
“What. Did. You. Just. Say?”
The boy kept his hands over his mouth as he mumbled. “I- I’m sorry, msorry- I shouldn’t hve, I- I didn’t please- please, sir, I-”
Splice threw the plate and cup down to the floor where it clattered. The boy flinched.
“Did you tell me no?”
“I’m - I’msorry I’m sorry, please don’t- I- I”
Splice grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand and pulled him off of the bed to his feet. He stood on shaky legs, most of his weight leaning to one side.
“Kneel.”
The boy surprised himself with how quickly his knees hit the ground. He winced as pain flared up his leg- the one that had been stabbed through a few days ago.
“Who do you belong to?”
Andrew sobbed. Wrists shaking as they were held up in front of him like a forced plea. He leaned forward and put his head in his own hands.
“You- I- I belong to you.”
“Good.” Splice stated. His other hand went to the back of Andrew’s hair. He pushed the boy’s head into his own chest as he knelt on the floor in front of him. He kept a grip firmly on the boy’s wrists as he stroked the pale hair. The hair that had once been colored with fire, just like the boy’s attitude only a few days ago.
“Now, what did you do wrong?”
Andrew’s chest shook with a sob.
“I- I said no.”
“Good, and?” Splice prompted.
“And I- I spoke out of turn. I didn- didn’t do what I- what I was s’posed to.”
“Good.” Splice shuffled forward on his knees. The boy leaned backwards to accommodate and Spliced inched further as he did so.
“You didn’t do what you’re supposed to, exactly.”
He kept a grip on the boy’s wrists and on the back of his hair as he moved forward, pushing the boy down until his back was forced to the ground.
Andrew’s eyes got wide out of confusion and he let out a small whimper as he untangled his legs out from underneath him to lie flat on his back.
“Can you tell me what happens when you don’t do what you’re supposed to?” Splice moved his hand from the back of Andrew’s hair to the collar around his neck. Once again marking his ownership with a simple piece of fabric.
Andrew choked on his words. Knowing the answer but not wanting to say it. “I- I get- I get punished.”
“Very good.”
Andrew barely noticed as Splice pulled the small knife out of his suit coat.
He only noticed when it began to dig into his arm.
He flinched out of instinct to try and move away and Splice tsked under his breath,
“Oh no, hold still now. You can be good, right?”
Splice let go of the boy’s hands and rearranged himself so he was no longer kneeling besides Andrew, but on top of him. One knee pinned his left shoulder down, while the other straddled his opposite side, forcing his arm to the ground.
“You can be good- right?”
Oh no- Splice had to repeat himself, the boy thought. That was bad, he was going to get angry, and when he got angry he would be punished again, and being punished hurt- and he couldn’t, he didn’t want-
The boy nodded, shaking his head eagerly, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to be good. He needed to be good because if he wasn’t- then-
Andrew winced and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the same cold hands on him.
Splice used one hand to push up the sleeve of his thin t-shirt, and pressed the boy’s shoulder into the floor. The other gripped the knife, and began to start where he had left off.
The knife dug into the top of his arm, near his shoulder.
Andrew whimpered through his teeth. He kept his eyes tight and his breaths shallow, but he did not scream.
The blade traveled down, down through his bicep, stopping halfway between his shoulder and his elbow. The blood seeped out, warm and sticky as it dripped onto the floor around him.
The knife left the cut and Andrew breathed out a sigh of relief. His neck arched back, chest rising in pain as it entered his skin again, only an inch away from the first cut. He clenched his teeth and tried to breathe, but with the weight on top of him, and the pain rushing through him, it seemed nearly impossible.
Finally the knife left and he opened his eyes to see the knife in front of his face.
“Think of these as tally marks.” Splice stated. Andrew’s eyes remained deadly focused on the knife in front of his eyes. “One, for saying no. And another one, as a reminder.”
The flat side of the blade pressed into Andrew’s cheek and wiped across his face. Andrew closed his eyes, heart pounding at the anticipation of pain when he felt the cold metal across his other cheek. The rest of his own blood from the knife was wiped off onto his face.
He winced and his eyes shot open as a hand wrapped around the top of his arm. He struggled to stay quiet, struggled to breathe as the pain shot through his arm. But as Splice squeezed the muscles in his arm, he couldn’t help it.
A strangled cry erupted from his mouth followed by a bottled up scream.
“A reminder to do as you are told. A reminder that you no longer make your own choices. Understand?”
Andrew nodded through his scream.
“Do you understand?”
A nod wasn’t good enough.
Andrew breathed through the pain. Hissing in air through his teeth. Splice gripped his arm tighter.
“I- I arrgh! I- ah- I uh-understand.”
“Good.”
Splice released his grip and patted the side of the boy’s face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. He reached and ruffled through his hair, leaving it sticky and matted with his own blood.
The knife wavered tauntingly in front of Andrew’s eyes. “You know, I quite like the look of blood on your face. It suits you.”
Andrew shut his eyes as the tip of the knife poked into his forehead, and then trailed around his temple, down to his jawline. It left a faint trail of blood through the skin that mingled with the rest that had been smeared on his face.
Splice stood up, leaving the boy lying on the floor. He picked up the plate and cup that he had thrown earlier and put the bloody knife back in his pocket.
Placing a hand in the middle of Andrew’s back, he helped him sit up and put the muzzle on his face. Andrew sobbed through pain and embarrassment, but he did not struggle or fight back. He allowed the man to buckle the leather behind his head, a little tighter than usual, and his sobs and cries were cut off as the bit sat tightly in his mouth once more.
“Come on now, don’t cry. You want to be good for later tonight. The doctors have a new drug they want to try, and you better be the perfect patient.”
#whump#whump writing#carrot top#oc#original writing#blood#knives#possessive whumper#dehumanization#muzzled#finally carrot boi gets some sort of comfort#but not for long#sorry not sorry#I honestly had no idea what to name this chapter
28 notes
·
View notes
Link
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Characters: Edward Elric, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc
Additional Tags: Loveless!AU, Jean/Riza in the background
Summary:
When Ed walked into the office, he still had that tiny hope that maybe his co-workers could be adults and just… ignore the fact that he no longer had those stupid cat ears on. And good riddance to that tail, too.
Time for me to post my gift for my FMA Secret Santa ~ @fullmetalgunfire this is for you <3 Hope you had a great chrsitams, and wishing you an even better new year!!
You said you liked AUs and actually I had this thing going on it my head I’ve been wanting to write in FOREVER so... hehe... there you go!
I hope you will enjoy it <3
It was a beautiful day in November. The sun was out, warming up the chill autumn air. The leaves on the trees wore their beautiful red fall colors, with a few of them decorating the boring, paved area right in front of the main building. Even the morning breeze was being nice to him today. He liked this time of the year. Of course, he preferred summer, when it was warm and nice and the girls always wore short skirts and low cleavage tops, not to mention the ever-existing possibility of pools and bikinis… But autumn was nice too. At least it meant that end of the year bonuses were drawing closer.
Jean took a deep puff of his cigarette, letting the nicotine fill his lungs, calming all his nerves and making him just a little bit less unready to face Monday morning. He let the smoke soak in his mouth for a short moment before letting it out slowly, watching it as it dissolved into the air. He was so focused on this rare moment of serenity before the storm that he almost missed a familiar face in the crowds.
A familiar face with a certain change to it.
Jean let out a little yelp of surprise, a giant smirk smeared over his face, and pushed himself off the wall. “Look who’s here, only fifteen minutes late!”
“Since when are you the boss? And what about you, huh? You’re not exactly in the office yet either.”
Jean raised his eyebrows, his smirk ebbing away ever so slightly. “A rough Monday morning, huh? I thought you’d be in a better mood,” he paused, and reached with his hand to pat Edward’s head. His head that only had his signature blond hair as decoration. It felt strangely empty. “Looks like someone had a very nice weekend.”
Elric pushed his hand off, looking even more annoyed than he did before. Jean’s smirk broadened at the sight of obvious redness in his younger co-worker’s face. “My weekend is none of your business, Havoc.”
“Yeah, alright, but you know you can’t hide it. You gonna step in the office today, and I don’t even need to say anything but everyone’s gonna see that finally, our youngest, most innocent – “
“Innocent my ass – “
“ – soldier in the entire military – “
“See, now you’re just extravagating, I wasn’t the only one in the headquarters to still hve – “
“ – has lost his ears.”
The red on his face got a few shades darker and his eyes went wide – as if he hadn’t realized until this very moment when Jean pointed it out: that the moment he steps in, everyone’s going to know, just like Jean did. For a short moment he was just staring at him, and then he pulled his hoodie over his head and walked around him, clearly trying to hide. Jean let out a snort of laughter and turned to look after him. “You remember you don’t have the tail either, right?” he called, and turned back, still laughing. He took one more whiff of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground, shaking his head. He stepped on it to turn it off before walking back into the building.
Today was going to be a great day. He knew it.
He almost skipped his way to the office, and when he reached it, he felt like he had missed something. It was strangely quiet, with a very heavy feeling. He immediately took a look around, searching for the man of the hour, and found him sulking at his desk, doing his best to hide from everyone.
Jean almost felt bad for him, but then, he really couldn’t figure out what was so embarrassing about it. If anything, it was a moment to be celebrated; especially since it happened so late. He was probably, what, twenty-four by now? Twenty-five? Jean sat at his desk and picked up a pen, playing with it in his hand. Ah, the magical time of early twenties.
He slid with his chair sideways, leaning in to Breda. “Yo,” he whispered, getting his friend’s attention. “Noticed the new style our friend here is wearing today?”
Breda smiled. “Hard to miss. A big change, that is. Thought he’d be happier when it finally happened for him, you know? We just tried to congratulate him and – you know. Ended up with my hearing impaired. I mean… figured it’d happen way, way sooner… you know, he’d been friends with that Winry since – hell, you know, I think since they were kids~”
Jean chuckled. He felt almost bad, knowing he was the one who sent the former Fullmetal Alchemist, notorious for his temper, up here already pissed off. “You figure so, too, huh?”
Breda shrugged. “I mean, who else could it be?”
“Right. Who else? Yo, get Brosh over here, let’s see what he thinks.”
“Hold on,” Breda turned away from him. “Hey, Brosh!” Jean was a second away from hitting him and asking him whether he was crazy. “Get over here for a second, I need to ask you something about that case we’ve been working on the other day.”
“Huh? I thought we were done with that – “
“Yeah there’s this one loose end, do you have a minute?”
Brosh grunted, but got up and walked towards them. “Yes?”
“Sit down, sit down.”
“Hey, Breda, I have a lot of paperwork to – “
“Sit down,” Jean hissed, and Brosh sat down on the little chair at the edge of the table. Jean and Breda leaned in towards him. Suspicion replaced the annoyance on the younger man’s face. “Who were you thinking the happy girl is?” Jean whispered to him, gesturing with his head in Elric’s direction.
Brosh looked at the both of them, and then let out a sigh. “You called me over for that? Isn’t that clear? He finally did it with his mechanic girl. What’s her name. Rockbell. I mean… was pretty clear they liked each other even when they were, what? Fifteen? And besides, she was here this weekend. Saw them at the station on Friday evening just before I got on the train to my fiancé. Can’t believe you’re wasting my time on this… Sheesh.”
Jean exchanged looks with Breda. “Well, I suppose that settles that. Hey, Brosh, when did you lose yours?”
The younger man arched his eyebrows. “My ears? I think it was like, my eighteenth birthday. Went drinking for the first time since, you know, I became an adult and all… found that girl at the bar, really cute. Have never seen her since, she disappeared before I woke up the next morning. A real shame, I really liked her.” He shrugged. “What about you, Breda?”
“For me it happened a little late… I was twenty one, and just found my first serious girlfriend. We were going out for a few months… and then this one night she invited me in. To have some tea, she said,” Breda smiled, and Jean let out a chuckle.
“The old come-up-for-tea trick! Yeah I played that one back in the day, too.”
“Is that so? So why don’t you tell us about your first time?”
Jean smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Well, you see, I was seventeen, and there was this beautiful, very busty girl at school that really digged me, she’s been chasing me for weeks and – “
“Why are you lying to them? You still had your ears when you were at the military academy. I remember.”
Jean looked up and glared at the interrupter. “What? No, it was – “
“Oh, don’t you try to pretend, Jean,” Riza, stunning as always, leaned on his desk, smiled at him before she turned back to the others. “We attended the same year. You must’ve been… what, twenty… three? You kept trying to hide your ears – “
“Shut up, honey – “
“It was cute, really. No one bought that.”
Breda and Brosh both laughed. “Wow, we had no idea you had your ears for so long! A late bloomer, huh?” Brosh said.
Breda pat him on his back. “You know, I think – I think I might’ve seen you trying to hide your ears – it was you! We were all making fun of you but we had no idea – hell, Havoc!”
Jean felt his cheeks burning. He played with the ring on his finger, turning it about. “Fine, yeah, okay – so I might have still had my ears… until I was twenty four.”
Riza chuckled and reached to entangle Jean’s hand in hers. “It’s okay, I think it’s cute that you had your ears for that long. You were waiting for the right person.”
“Yeah, I was. Guess I should’ve waited just a little bit longer to find my real love.” He reached over to move his fingers over the back of her hand. “When did you lose yours then? I don’t even recall ever seeing you with them.”
“Oh. That happened when I was fourteen.”
Jean almost choked. “F – fourteen?!” A short glance around him told him the other two men were just as shocked. How come – how come he didn’t know that? Not that he cared, really, he loved her just the way she was and it didn’t matter to him but – but he was just shocked.
“Yes. But after that I figured it wasn’t as good as everyone said it was and waited until my next serious boyfriend. He proved that the books were right and my boyfriend at fourteen just did not know what he was doing.”
“I – uh – wow.”
“Yeah, who knew you were such a party, Colonel!”
“And – and me? Where am I on that scale between that boyfriend at fourteen and that guy at – “
“Nineteen, I was nineteen then. And you’re fine. Don’t worry. Would not have married you had you not lived up to my standards. Anyway, leave the kid alone and get back to work, will you?” She squeezed his hand and walked away.
“Four. Teen. Man, you’ve got yourself a player there.”
“Kind of embarrassing, but hey, looks like you got lucky with that one. Anyway, I’m going to listen to her and get back to work.”
Jean smiled. “Good idea.” He felt lucky to have Riza. For four years straight now they were together, one of which they were husband and wife, and Jean had never felt. It was the only good thing that came out of his injury. She was there with him in the hospital, there through the recovery – and there after he was well and walking about freely. He didn’t even imagine she was there because she felt anything other than pity for him – until he asked her up front. Her reply was that he was an idiot that he didn’t know anything. Then asked him out for dinner.
She was not easy, but he loved her with all his heart.
He wondered if that was the kind of thing the little boss managed to find.
The sound of a door opening made both of them straighten in their chairs and look up. General Mustang just stepped out of his inner office. He looked a little tired in Jean’s opinion, but then, everybody tended to look tired on Mondays. He saw him glancing in Edward’s direction, and moving on. Jean got up from his chair and walked to him.
“Hey, boss,” he said as he caught up with him.
“Anything on your mind, First Lieutenant Havoc?”
“Yes, actually – what did you think about our new, uh, situation at the office?”
Mustang arranged his uniform coat and kept walking. Jean heard some movement from behind him. A quick glance showed him that Edward had sank even deeper in his chair.
“I have no idea what you are referring to, First Lieutenant.”
“Aw, don’t tell me you didn’t notice! Our boy finally became a man! Turns out his girlfriend Winry was visiting this week and – “
“And what, First Lieutenant?”
Jean frowned at the cold tone of his boss’ voice. He figured he’d be just as happy about the new discovery as the rest of them – hell, he was sure that if he wasn’t the first one to spot Edward today, Mustang would be the first to call him out and ask for details. “And – well, you know! His ears, Boss! Don’t you want to know?”
“Why would it be my business to know? What make you think it is any of your business? Leave him alone, he’ll tell you if he wants to. Now, if you don’t have anything work related you need from me, please stop wasting my time and kindly return to your seat and get back to work.” Mustang reached towards the door handle, pushed it open, and left the office.
Jean really did not expect that reaction from him.
He turned back to Breda, who shrugged at him. Jean shrugged back and did as he was told. Maybe the Boss just didn’t have his morning coffee yet.
The door opened again, making Jean look up. Maybe Mustang finally came around and –
And instead of Mustang’s firm, manly attire a girl in a mini skirt walked in, looking a little flushed – as if she ran her way here. Jean immediately recognized her as Winry, little boss’ girlfriend.
He looked at her as she crossed the room, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear as she nervously greeted the other people in the room. He and Breda exchanged knowing smiles as she went directly towards Edward. She called his name and he looked up at her. She gave him a little bag, which she said he forgot his lunch at home, which, apparently, made him almost as red as his conversation with Jean this morning did. They talked for a little while, and then she walked away.
Jean’s eyes followed her as she bid her goodbyes when he suddenly noticed something. Just at the point where her shirt met her skirt, her kitten tail was waving right behind her. Jean looked upwards, and there they were. Her kitten ears, right on top of her hair, just like they’ve always been.
Just like they were missing on Edward’s head this morning.
Something was not right. It couldn’t –
“Hey, Havoc?” Jean looked at Breda just as the door closed behind the girl. “I don’t think it was her.”
Jean nodded, his shock probably written all over his face. But if not her, then…
Who?
*
Assholes. Idiot, stupid assholes. What, did they think that just because they were whispering he could not hear them?
Not that he didn’t get any interesting pieces of information there, but he had that tiny hope that maybe his co-workers could be adults and just… ignore the fact that he no longer had those stupid cat ears on. And good riddance to that tail, too.
Not that he cared all that much about what that – meant – but it was just really annoying.
He should’ve known they’d think it was Winry. He knew they’ve been suspecting it ever since he was twelve. Total bullshit. Sure, she wasn’t bad looking at all but she was – a sister. He couldn’t be attracted to her even if he swung that way. And besides, it was clear to him from the very beginning that Alphonse wanted her, and fuck if he was going to stand in his brother’s way. He ruined everything else in his life, he had zero plans of ruining that for him too.
When she came for his automail adjustments (yes, he was soon going to hit twenty-four but was still growing!) he had no idea she was going to make such a mess out of his life. Sure, it was fun seeing her, and when she asked if Mustang would like to have dinner with them, since she didn’t see him in forever and she always felt like she owed him for all the help he gave him and Al back when they were teenagers, he felt a little awkward, but figured, how bad could it be.
“Come on, let’s just invite him over. I’ll cook.”
“It’s not that, Win, I just – let’s go out instead, okay? It’s Central, not Resenbool. You want to party, there’re a couple of really nice places around…”
“That’s a great idea! I’ll invite him. What’s his phone number?”
“Win – “
“Phone!”
He should’ve known that she knew. Winry wasn’t stupid, and besides, he already knew that Al knew. He wondered just how many times the two have talked about this, trying to come up with a plan – because he knew both of them, and knew that each of them, on their own, would’ve tried to meddle with his life ‘for his own good’. Separately, Ed stood a chance. But with both of them together, as a team? He wondered just how long it took them to cook that one up. His only hope was that Mustang would say he was busy – hell, it was Friday night, he surely had some – some date, or something. But no. Winry called and it turned out that out of all the Friday evenings, he was free on that specific one.
He heard a door opening, and saw Roy stepping out of his office. He glanced at him and felt his cheeks burning up. He looked away.
…he looked away. It was really hard not to notice how handsome he was. The way his hair framed his face in the most perfect way; the way his lips twitched when he smile, the way they moved when he talked. It was so much easier to ignore this at work – when he was all wrapped up in that ugly ass uniform that made no one look attractive in any way. But out here? In that plaid dress shirt that looked maybe half a size too small, stretched over his biceps and just a little over his chest. Not that Ed didn’t know that despite the fact he spent most of his day stuck behind a desk, the Flame Alchemist kept his body in good shape.
Ed cleared his throat and tore his gaze away, taking a sip from his beer instead. He swallowed. “I don’t know. It’s okay I suppose. I don’t hate it. Even got used to the uniform.”
Roy chuckled. “Then I suppose I should tell you that you should start wearing it like everyone else, without that hoodie of yours.”
“Aw, but I like this hoodie!”
“Your hoodie looks horrible. Tell him Roy!” Winry returned to her seat on Ed’s other side.
“I didn’t say it was horrible, just that it is unprofessional.”
“Shut up, both of you!”
Winry and Roy both laughed, and ordered another round of drinks.
He heard Havoc’s question, and wanted to bury himself under the floor. What if he told the truth? It’s not like he would care. But he didn’t. He was actually – protecting – Ed’s privacy. Ed felt relieved and grateful when the door closed and Mustang was no longer in the room. For a few blessed moments the office was quiet. No talks about him losing his ears, no speculation. Just the sound of papers rattling about as the people worked. He looked at his own paperwork, and was just about to grab the first document off of the pile when the door opened again. He looked up, expecting to see Roy coming back, but instead he could only see Winry coming into the office. Why – why did she have to – now they were all going to know –
“You really gotta lose those,” she said, a healthy flush to her cheeks and a glass half full of some disgusting looking pink liquid in her hand. She reached with her other one and stroke his ear. It tickled, and he moved away, flattening his ears down on his head. “I know you want to – “
“You forgot the lunch I made you!”
Ed blinked. He murmured an apology and took the paper bag she handed to him, and placed it on his desk, right next to a pile of papers he’d been ignoring for the past week or so. “Thanks, Win. I hope they didn’t give you trouble getting in here.”
“No, not at all, don’t worry. Just, you know eat it, and not the crap they serve at the cafeteria. I didn’t suffer cooking in your tiny kitchen to have the food thrown away, okay?”
Ed rolled his eyes. “No one asked you to ‘cook in my tiny kitchen’.”
Winry gave him a look. “No, but I didn’t see you complaining about it either.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll eat it. I hate the shit in the canteen anyway. Besides, I don’t think I feel like spending time in there today as it is. Don’t need more of – never mind. Thanks.”
“No problem. Now get off your ass and give me a hug, I got to catch the train.”
Ed shook his head and smiled as he got up and hugged her. They held each other for a moment and then she let go.
“Take care,” she said, and waved as she walked away. Some of the guys stared after her. Ed turned his eyes away. He knew that no one would think it was him and Winry now. His only hope was that no one would know the truth. Why couldn’t she just –
Ed sneaked a glance at Roy and felt his cheeks burning. He waved his tail behind him slowly, nervously. Did she have to bring up that subject now? “Yeah, maybe I do. But you ain’t got no right to say anything to me. I mean, what about you? Me, I didn’t have a relationship like, ever, but you’ve been in one for like three years.” From the corner of his eye, he could see the curious look on Roy’s face as he looked at him. Why did he have to say that? It was one thing that everyone knew he’d never… but not having any relationship at all?
What if Roy thought he was a weirdo?
Winry blushed and played with the diamond ring on her finger, the sparkle gem catching Ed’s attention. “Al and I, we decided to wait until the wedding.”
He let out a snort of laughter. “Your wedding? That your idea, or his?”
“Edward, don’t be mean,” chided Roy.
“Like I said,” Winry cut in before Ed could make any kind of retort. “We decided. Mutual decision. Three years, what a couple more months? Besides, it’s not like we don’t do anything. Just, uh, you know… not the thing. You can do a hell lot with – “
“Please, please Winry, that’s my little brother you’re talking about, spare me the details!”
She laughed. “You asked.”
The weight of their stares was almost too much to bear. He got up and walked towards the door, murmuring that he had to use the restroom, just in case someone would wonder where he had disappeared to.
Even the corridors felt intimidating. He felt as if everyone were staring at him. He felt as if every conversation was about him. He knew he was just being paranoid; he wasn’t interesting enough or important enough to have people talk about him. And still, he couldn’t shake that feeling. He pulled his hoodie over his head again and made his way to the nearest restroom, barely even watching where he was going. After all, by now, he had more or less knew this place by heart. He reached the door handle and pulled it -
…and let out a yelp of surprise when he almost fell as someone else was just pushing the door to step out. A hand, a strong, firm hand held onto his arm, preventing him from falling backwards and helping him stabilized himself. He murmured a thanks before trying to walk past the man, but he wouldn’t let go.
“You should be more careful.”
“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom - whoa! Be careful there!”
The hold on Ed’s arm surprised him, the other man’s touch making his skin burn. It was almost strong enough to hurt, but he didn’t care. He chuckled nervously, trying to hide the feelings the touch induced in him. “I’m good, I’m good,” he reassured Roy and straightened himself. He turned his head, and found himself staring right into Roy’s eyes. He suddenly realized just how close they were; he could feel the other man’s breath fluttering over his lips. He smelled like fresh wood, alcohol, and a hint of that tasty cheese-flavored snack the bartender gave them. He wanted to -
“Fullmetal? Are you there?”
Ed snapped back to the present. Roy’s hold on him was starting to ache. How long was he lost in his own thoughts? He moved his arm and the older man let go of him. Was it just him or did Roy just hesitate slightly before letting go? “That’s not my name anymore!” he said, and then realized that maybe he was being too harsh. He took a breath, trying to calm himself. “Yeah. Sorry. Should’ve looked where I was going, I know, blah blah blah. I’ll be back in the office in a minute, okay? I just gotta use the toilet, I have to – ”
“You don’t owe me explanations for your bodily needs. Do whatever you need to do.”
“Great, thanks for your approval,” Ed said, feeling his face just keep getting darker. Why did he have to say that? As if things weren’t weird enough. He moved, making room for Roy to walk past him; he did, and Ed took a step into the room, rushing to hide himself in one of the stalls, completely ignoring the lieutenant who was just washing his hands and was eyeing the little encounter he had with Mustang curiously.
…he smiled nervously, and moved a little. “Sorry for that. Fucking stupid house, there’s this little nail in the floor – right there – “ he pointed, and saw Roy moving his head too from the corner of his eye. “Probably left over from some… I don’t know, closet or something, that used to be there. Already gotten used to that, but you know, still sometimes when I’m not paying attention…”
“What were you paying attention to, then?”
Ed looked up and saw that he was mistaken, and Roy was looking directly at him. He was very well aware that he was still holding his arm. His body felt hot, and his head was still light from all the beer. Was he imagining, or?...
“I – “ he started, but Roy’s hand was tugging at him, inviting him closer.
How could he say no?
Ed knew he was there for a little too long already, but he didn’t feel ready to face the outside world yet. He felt so ashamed. He was making such a big deal out of – out of something so small and unimportant. But it didn’t feel small to him. Winry wasn’t much help either. He was actually relieved, this morning, knowing she’d be leaving. He wasn’t sure how much she was going to share with Al – but he certainly hoped she will, at least, keep her assumptions to herself. Letting Alphonse know something happened was one thing; but to tell him who, that was a whole different thing. At least it was going to be a while until he will have to face that consequence.
He had to be braver than this. He got up and flushed. He left the restroom, facing a very annoyed-looking soldier who said something to him about not being considerate, which Ed ignored completely. He made his way back to the office, and sat at his desk, pulling a random document and pretending to work on it.
The day crawled by sluggishly. Ed found it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything, even after the stares eased and everyone were busy with their work. When lunchtime arrived, it was a relief to have an excuse to stop pretending he was reading and to have everyone else leave the office, and, while it wasn’t as good as it was yesterday, the lunch Winry packed for him was still way better than anything they ever served at the canteen. Being alone in the office helped him relax and finally shake the feeling that everyone were still staring at him. It was nearly time to get back to work when he heard a voice calling his name. “Colonel Elric, will you come to my office for a moment?”
Ed looked up from his empty lunchbox and stared in the direction of the voice. Never before had Mustang’s office looked so intimidating; not even back when he was a teenager, and had made more mess than what he was supposed to clean up. He swallowed, but got up and walked towards the inner office, dragging himself as slowly as he could. Eventually he found himself at the mouth of Hell. He crossed the door step, finding the devil himself sitting there, seemingly calm, collected, right behind his desk. His head was bowed down, his hair falling over his eyes like a veil as he read one document or another. He waited for a few seconds, but eventually he lifted his eyes.
“Come inside. And… close the door, please.”
“Close the door.”
“I – uh – are you sure?” Ed breathed through Roy’s lips. He wanted Roy to tell him that he was sure; that he wasn’t going to leave. He wanted to stay in this moment. “The driver…”
Roy’s tongue creeped out of his mouth to wet his lips. Ed could feel it as it lightly brushed against his own lips. He closed his eyes, his tail waving slowly behind him. “I could get another one later. I already paid him for all the way to my house, he won’t mind. Do you want me to stay?”
Ed reached behind him and closed the door, smiling as he rose on the tip of his toes and crossed the few millimeters still separating them. The kiss was hesitant at first, but it quickly escalated, making Ed’s breath hitch. He started leading Roy into the bedroom, slowly, hesitantly, but it seemed that the other man wanted this just as much as he did.
Ed turned and obediently closed the door behind him. “Yes. You, uh, wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Sit, please.”
Ed hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he slowly walked away from the door and towards the sofa in front of Roy’s desk. He’d sat on it so many times before, and yet today seemed different. The room was uncomfortably quiet for what felt like forever. Did Roy feel as awkward as Ed felt? He glanced up, almost shyly. The older man looked just as collected as ever.
Ed should’ve known. For him, he was just one out of many. One more name to add to the list. What difference did one more night, one more conquer, make for him?
Nothing at all.
He crossed his arms over his chest, sinking a little in his seat as he brought his right knee up, crossing his flesh leg over his metallic one.
“I tried calling over the weekend.”
Ed knew. He heard the phone, every several hours. He counted; there were seven calls in total. Winry kept nagging him to pick up – she even threatened to do it herself – but he never did. Not because he was afraid. There was just nothing to be said over the phone. “Sorry, I was busy. Couldn’t pick up.”
“I wanted to apologize for Friday night.”
Ed let out a short snort. Of course. Of course that would be why he called him here. He was right to not pick up the phone – there was no point. Obviously, Ed was not up to his usual standards and the whole deal was just a fuck up. A big fuck up that got even more fucked up because they were working together, and so, Mustang had no choice but to apologize when, had Ed been a complete stranger, Roy could’ve just ignored it and moved on.
There was a heavy lump in Ed’s throat, and he cleared his throat shortly to try and make it go away. It didn’t, but he decided to risk talking anyway. “Don’t sweat it. There is nothing you need to apologize for.”
Ed looked up, gathering all his strength to keep his features neutral. Roy was looking straight at him, his expression a mixture Ed found it hard to decipher: something between sympathy and curiosity, but there was also something else there, written in the fine lines. Hope? It was probably just his imagination.
“Maybe. But I would still like to put it out there. If we – if I had done anything you felt, or feel, uncomfortable about, I am deeply sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He didn’t flinch under Ed’s stare; didn’t so much as moved a muscle.
“Is this okay?” the question fluttered over Ed’s skin as Roy’s hands traveled over his body, tugging at the button of his pants. It was hard to breathe, hard to talk, hard to think – all he knew was that this was what he had dreamt about since forever, and it felt just as good as he imagined it would, and better, much better. He was almost not scared at all. He moved his hips towards Roy and captured his lips in another kiss. Roy got the message and Ed felt the relief of not being confided inside the tight jeans anymore.
“I – no, what?�� The lump in Ed’s throat grew thicker. “I meant it. You have nothing to apologize for. We’re cool. Actually, I think I should probably apologize for, uh, my lame-ass hospitality, and all that.” He felt as if Roy was examining him; and maybe he was. But he kept his eyes straight ahead, doing his best to not show the turmoil that was going on inside him on his face.
“You should probably go.” Ed stared at the wall. The euphoria that washed his entire body had eased; in its stead he felt exhaustion. He wasn’t sure how to interpret all the strange things he was feeling; he was sated, but he wanted more. He felt awkward, and self-aware, and ashamed, and he wanted to be alone just as much as he wanted Roy to hold him forever.
He wondered if Roy already regretted coming here, or if it will come later. He was too scared to turn and look at his face, too scared of what he might find there. Disgust? Disdain?
“Are you sure?” Ed tried to ignore the way the air brushed against his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if Roy was really asking, or if it was just out of courtesy to not seem too eager to be given the green light to leave. It was most likely the second.
“Yeah. I mean… you know, Winry’s in the other room and… probably shouldn’t see you here in the morning, and… and you know, my bed isn’t big enough for two people.”
He knew these were just excuses, and he knew that Roy will know it too. He was hoping that he’d call him out on it; say that they managed just fine. That Winry will know anyway. That at least Ed couldn’t hide it, even though he could always just lie and pretend it wasn’t Roy. Not that Winry will buy it, but he could always try.
But Roy didn’t argue. There was just silence for a few seconds, and then the hand that was trailing lines on his bare back disappeared, and he felt the weight of the bed shift as Roy sat up.
He could hear him moving about and the rustling of clothes being picked up and worn, and then the door closed, and Ed was alone.
He looked down, trying to fight the heat in his cheeks. He was acting like an asshole, and he knew it. Roy didn’t really do anything wrong; he wanted it. Roy even asked him, more than once, and Ed said that it was okay. He didn’t know what made him feel so uncomfortable… after. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good; it felt amazing. Roy treated him gently, after all, it wasn’t as if Ed could hide he’d never done this before, and Roy turned out to be very caring and careful. It was almost too good to be true.
Therefore, it had to be. It had to be a dream that will fall into pieces as soon as he woke up, and therefore, he had to cut it on his own terms.
So why did he feel like he didn’t do the right thing? Why did he feel ashamed – not for being with Roy, but for asking him to leave? Why did Roy talk as if – as if he thought he hurt him somehow?
“It was your house. It was your right to ask me to leave.”
Why did he think he heard sadness in Roy’s voice? He looked up. “You – didn’t want to? Leave, I mean.”
“Not unless you didn’t want me to stay.”
Ed frowned. “So… you… wanted to stay?”
Roy’s voice sounded soft. “I would’ve preferred to stay with you.”
Ed remained quiet for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he should believe what Roy was saying now; but he had no reason to lie. Ed had given him an easy escape – he told that they were okay, that he didn’t mind. He could’ve just stopped the conversation there and let him go.
But he kept him here. He looked genuinely hurt that Ed just tried to dismiss the time they spent together. Was that the reason he had been so quiet when Ed asked him to leave? Was he hurt that Ed didn’t want him there?
But he wanted him to stay. He wanted him to tell him that he wasn’t leaving him. He was mad at himself for not understanding this sooner. Roy didn’t argue – because he thought the reason Ed asked him to go was that Ed regretted what they did. This was so messed up. He was so messed up. “Shit,” he muttered, and looked up to meet Roy’s gaze. The other man was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. He looked as if he was expecting him to burst – to yell at him, or punch him for what he did and what he said. No; this couldn’t be right. “I – uh – do you – do you wanna go out? I mean, after work. Like, for dinner, or something. I don’t know.”
Roy chuckled shortly, and Ed felt his cheeks burning even hotter than before. Did he manage to mistake the situation again? Was Roy – was that bastard laughing at him? He was about to call him out on it, to swear at him, to call him all kinds of names he rightfully deserved, to punch him and to get out of this room and never return – but before he could do any of that, the other man spoke again. “Are you asking me on a date, Fullmetal?”
Somehow, the amusement in Roy’s voice didn’t sound as if it was mocking; he sounded… hopeful. Ed was so shaken he didn’t even tell Roy not to use his old title.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Maybe. What if I am?”
“Well, if you are, then I might ask you when.”
Ed’s eyes went wide. Did he – was that – a yes? “I don’t know. Friday evening? After work?”
“How about I take you out for dinner eight o’clock tonight?”
“T – tonight?!”
“If tonight is not good, I could do tomorrow evening as well”
“No – I mean, tonight’s fine.”
“Great. I will pick you up at eight then.”
Ed looked up. Roy was smiling at him, chin resting on his palms as he leaned forward a little bit. Ed mirrored his smile. “Eight o’clock tonight. Alright.” He repeated that in his head. A date with Roy tonight. It sounded even more surreal when he phrased it like that – but it made him happy. Happier than he felt in a long, long while. His smile broadened. “You’re buying.”
“I pay you more than enough to be able to pay for yourself.“
“So? You’re getting paid more than me. You’re still buying. And bring a lot of cash, I eat a lot.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Yeah, we will.” Ed let out a short chuckle and then he turned back towards the door. He could hear noises from the other side, signaling that everyone were already back from lunch. It was time for him to get back to work. Or at least, pretend to get back to work; he doubted he could concentrate on anything work related right now. But it didn’t matter at all.
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
beemajoribeats
BeeMajor Beatz
tsturl
Sturdy ass whoopin
jonagi
Post my outfit
bdvisa
استقدام من بنجلاديش
cprgiii
Untitled