Pairing(s): Envy X Ed, mentions of Envy X OCs
Genre: AU, drama, angst, porn...
Rating: For this chapter, hard R. NC-17 for the fic overall.
Warnings: Language, sexual descriptions, violence, mentions of drug use
Disclaimer: FMA not mine.
Shou Tucker and Laurent Rockbell had been co-workers. Both men worked in a well-paying doctor’s office, fully utilizing the skills and information they’d gleaned from medical school. Still, many things were awry with them, but for very different reasons.
Laurent lived his existence as the shadow of what had once been a substantial family man. Once divorced, twice broken-hearted, and thrice depressed, Laurent Rockbell threw most of his energies into his work at the clinic. He joked mildly with adults, he smiled for kids, and even got wise cracking for the teens, but it was never enough to hide the obvious void in the man. His two daughters brought him some joy now and then...but they never really made anything feel quite as right as it used to feel. Dr. Laurent Rockbell was in what seemed like a permanent slump. The man wished he could be only half of what he used to be back in medical school, back in college.
Shou was in a similar predicament, though he couldn’t very well claim the long list of emotional ailments that Laurent did. He’d also be lying if he said he’d been a ‘substantial family man’...he more pretended to be one.
Behind the hesitant smile, steady eyes and simple Pierre Cardin frames, was a cold man.
Shou Tucker had lived life going through the motions of what he thought family life was supposed to be. These motions included small family outings and birthday parties, and anniversary presents here and there...The act had fooled his wife for quite a significant period of time – six years, actually – before the whole charade collapsed in on itself...leaving one Shou Tucker with a young daughter of about three. One he was sure he had no use for.
Anyway, on some nights he could still hear his dear departed (yes, departed) wife’s heels clicking impatiently across the concrete of their drive way...the screech of tires as she burned rubber to hell and back...all to get away from him. She’d made sure to hurl all the possible synonyms for ‘crazy’ at him on her way out. Shou hadn’t taken too kindly to that…and for all his brain, to this day, he still couldn’t figure out how such a banshee could die so silently. It was beyond him.
And beyond him it would stay…he still had a performance to give for his young Nina! It should’ve been easy to put on an act for such a young girl, but Shou was beginning to find that, just like his late wife, nothing got past Nina. The knowledge in her eyes was frightening to him...annoying even. Nina had left him a paranoid man. And so sprung the root of the problem. The beginning of Nina’s demise, so to speak…people got in trouble for knowing too much all the time. Contrary to current belief, small children weren't an exception to the rule.
So yes, while both men could easily be paralleled to the other, many things were different on the inside. Laurent hot, Shou cold…how could these two men ever get past the simple work place pleasantries? And why would they even want to?
That’s exactly why it had been somewhat of a shock to Laurent when Shou had invited him to dinner at his home. He’d accepted, eager to meet the young, bright-eyed girl Tucker carried around a wallet-sized picture of. She had seemed too much like a fusion of his twin daughters, Francesca and Winifred, his Winry and Sheska. It had never occurred to Laurent Rockbell to return the favor...
The evening had been pleasant enough. Laurent Rockbell had gotten to spend all of thirty minutes interacting with Nina Tucker before she’d yawned adorably and said she was ready for bed. Tucker had excused himself to tuck the girl in, returning a few moments later to finish chatting quietly with Laurent. They talked about the obvious and inane: the weather, how much they liked work, what college and medical school had been like, student loans, patients they had encountered, etcetera…
It was after about an hour of this that Tucker finally rose and smiled at his new friend. “I want to show you something,” he’d said in that eerily-controlled voice of his.
Laurent pushed aside his nerves and nodded his head, following Tucker down the stairs to a most sacred part of his household.
“A gift from some friends,” Tucker had explained, smiling the quaint, close-mouthed smile of his.
Somehow, Shou had known that Laurent would appreciate such an investment as the one he had made in his basement lab. The man had an air of understanding about him. You could just simply glimpse at Laurent’s cornflower blue eyes and see that the man, insight, had vision...just like Tucker. He just had no means of escape.
It was there, as Laurent stared speechless at the immaculate chrome desk and sterile-looking breakers of all shapes and sizes...that their ill-fated partnership was formed. Both men had formed a silent pact: their daughters would never be the wiser.
Laurent had felt more at ease, working with Tucker, than he had in a long time.
And Tucker...well, Tucker knew that all performances, good or bad, had to come to an end.
Experience had taught him this. He often smiled at the lesson.
“I’m tired,” I groaned, slumping onto a barstool. At this point, I didn’t care what she thought of it; I could always correct her later.
“Ed, you made a pretty valiant effort but…you should’ve told me how rhythmically-impaired you are. You really can’t dance!” she cackled.
I cast Martel all sorts of sour looks, ridiculously thankful that she didn’t attend school with me. I might’ve turned over the idea of homicide, suicide, and some other ‘cide’ that hadn’t even yet been discovered if she had indeed been a classmate of mine. I could care less…it was not like I didn’t know I couldn’t dance.
Martel went on chortling and making smart talk with the rest of the bar patrons, occasionally patting my sore head when bringing up something that sounded along the lines of ‘community service’. My head didn’t move from her shoulder, and eventually, it slumped onto the bar. That’s it. For the rest of the night, I was officially dead to the world. Praise Jesus. Now all I needed was to go home. Whether my home was heaven, hell, or my actual house would be left up to the fates. There was no more fighting for me tonight.
“Uh oh...” said Martel, stopping mid-sentence in whoever she was conversing with.
I lifted my head to see what she was ‘uh-ohing’ about, and then I saw it. Not too far from us, a red-eyed, unstable-looking Sole was pushing through the crowds of people, looking anything but the jubilant rock-star he had seemed in the car. Envy wasn’t with him...Only my imagination could come up with answers to that riddle...none of them logical.
“Talk about alcoholic...” Martel muttered under her breath as Sole plopped down right next to us, reeking of some acidic-seeming substance.
“Where’s your friend?” he asked, giving us a caustic look, like it was our fault he couldn’t find Envy.
I think I was the only one in this awkward little set-up that was a bit unnerved. Everyone else seemed to think Sole’s drunken and demonic appearance was fine. Maybe it was. I mean, we were in ‘Jaded’, for Christ sakes.
“Not sure,” replied Martel simply.
Sole gave a ragged sigh, sniffing the air as if that might tell him something. “Whoring,” he said simply, a bitter smirk coming to his face.
Martel shrugged. “It’s probable,” she returned.
Wow, Envy had some real characters as ‘friends’.
“And what’s with this kid?” Sole asked, jerking his head roughly in my direction.
I scowled. “It’s not like you don’t know my damned name...” I grumbled.
Both of them ignored me.
“He can’t dance.”
“So what do you plan on getting tonight…and how much would you pay for it?” I had asked, looking down at what seemed to be a clueless Havoc. The hint of forbidden lust in his eyes gave it away…he knew he was about to fuck a minor. These guys liked underage boys, naturally.
“Wallet,” Havoc had grunted and pointed to the jacket I'd thrown off of him. The jacket had about four 50 dollar bills for me.
My fingers rubbed back and forth over crisp, bank paper and I frowned. “That’s it?” it was a purr I often used to conceal ill intentions…If Doro had me come back here for damned near nothing…
Havoc then pulled another two fifties out his shirt pocket and handed it to me, pulling me into his lap. Well, that was a bit better.
“Good boy.” I grinned down at him, beginning to remove the necessary clothing. “Now, I don’t do all that ‘sucky-sucky’ jazz.” Truth; I’d never given a blow job in my life. Didn’t want to. “But I’ll definitely get down to the ‘fucky-fucky’ stuff...” I purred, undoing his pants and trying to appear as androgynous as possible at that point. It was a wasted effort: Havoc was thoroughly hammered. Doro was right...he definitely wouldn’t give a damn whether he was fucking a girl, boy, OR zebra, hmm...
My hips rode that guy for what felt like hours, and it wasn’t bad...it was just damned hard to keep some drunk guy up and hard. My whole lower body was sore, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Knowing myself, I’d never feel like I really had to stop...and Havoc just kept groaning in an appeasing, drunken manner the whole while, so I figured he didn’t care if I ever stopped either. Truth be told, I could just bounce up and down in his lap until I was all ‘comed out’and dead...I really could. It was like I’d said: I didn’t have to stop. But I should stop...and I definitely wanted to. Damned if I wasn’t beat. Yeah...it was time I hopped off.
After cleaning up a bit and saying ‘goodbye’ to dear Havoc (because he had done me a pretty decent favor back at the station on Thanksgiving), I came out that back room 300-dollars richer than I had entered. All in all, it wasn’t a bad deal, and I had a shiny new badge I could hold for ransom. Since it was pretty much impossible to get any coherent info out the guy tonight, I’d get it another time. He’d eventually have to realize his badge was missing and remember little old me.
Though...I mentally made Havoc a tally. I’d been doing it subconsciously for a while now…counting the people I’d possibly infected. Reviewing these shallow marks was a bit of a dark pass time for me...I tried not to care. Making it a game was my way of doing that, and so far it was working. Shit, if I kept getting this good at it and if dumb asses like me continued getting STD’s fucked into their systems, then I could try and make a national pass time out of it. A real sport for the kiddies. It’d be a blast...We’d have world championships and everything!
It was pretty damned easy to find Martel and Ed. Both sat the bar, Ed looking sour, Martel looking mischievous, striking up all sorts of X-rated conversation with those around her. No one minded, except for Ed of course.
“Ed can’t dance,” Martel reported curtly the minute I was in front of her.
Ed rolled his tired little eyes, like golden marbles, and I couldn’t help but smirk. “I figured as much,” I said on a sigh, shrugging.
Ed scowled. “Why the hell does everyone say that? Do I really look like I can’t dance?” he grumped.
Sole, Martel and I exchanged glances.
Me being me, I was the first to start laughing. “Yeah, Ed, you do. It’s ok. We have much to teach you, my young, blond grasshopper.”
Sole snickered and I noticed he must’ve been drinking heavily. His eyes were kinda red. Sole could be a real miserable drunk...he could be one of those guys who cried and drank at the same time. Hell, that was exactly what it looked like he’d been doing. My disgust wasn’t easy to curb. It pissed me off when Sole got like this.
“Are you done being a pussy yet?” came my quip, causing Sole to glower at me.
He reached to the side and grabbed his drink. He took a swig. “You done being a whore?” he growled.
Martel shook her head and Ed looked…well, fairly unimpressed.
“Hey, I got a real good question,” Ed piped up. “...is it time to go home yet?”
I shrugged. “Well, Sole seems to have missed his nappy time…maybe we should get going before our little baby starts going into cathartic convulsions.” I saw Sole coming a mile away. So did Martel...you could see it in the way her body tensed.
Sole flew to his feet, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and spinning me around so that my back was suddenly bent very harshly over the bar. My face twisted in a slight grimace. Though the first thing that came to my mind was that alcoholic Sole smelled better than alcoholic Doro…I started laughing.
Ed’s eyes were a bit wide, but he looked more calculating than worried. He seemed to be concentrating real hard...so did Marty.
Sole's face, twisted in anger, hovered mere inches above mine. His breath was hot on my face and if I hadn't known him better, I'd swear he was more about to do me rather than try to beat my face backwards.
“What, Sole? What?” I spat, taunting him, and also trying to leverage myself so that the wooden paneling digging into my back wouldn’t hurt so damn much. Didn’t I say I hated when Sole got like this?
Sole growled, his grip on my shirt not loosening. I gave him a good five fucking seconds before I seriously got pissed and caved his childish little jaw in...
“Why the fuck do you always think you know every goddamn thing?” he snarled. My thing wasn’t knowing everything...it was not giving a rat’s ass about what I didn’t know. That simple.
I made a buzzer noise to point out his error, trying to keep my cool and remain smug. “Nyeh-eh, wrong, Solomon! It’s not about knowing every damn thing; it’s about knowing what I’m supposed to know! Why the fuck would you keep something so gosh darned important from me, for any other reason besides the fact your punk ass is always scared for me! I don’t need you on my back! When I feel like being scared, I’ll be fucking scared!” My voice could get hella louder than Sole’s; I’d had practice.
By now, a good number of people had stopped dancing, looking at both Sole and I in a daze.
Sole noticed and promptly let go of me, a tortured sigh escaping his lips. “You’d do good to feel a bit of fear now and then...” he muttered, turning away from me like a kicked puppy and holding his head in his hands.
Martel put a discrete hand on his shoulder, trying in her own quiet way to comfort him, but he shrugged it off violently. And Ed...well, he just stood apart from all of us, still looking homesick. Nothing said it was time to get the fuck out of here like a nice emo-alcoholic episode.
I let out a breath, falling back on the bar. My elbows propped me up and I let my head loll back.
Doro was standing right there, looking and smelling a bit fresher; now, instead of alcohol and fart, he smelled like corn chips and soap.
“Could you bring me the shit I asked for? And a drink too?” I sighed, running a hand through my hair and glancing in Sole’s direction. He looked like he was trying to calm himself down. Without thinking, I kissed my teeth.
“Sure,” Doro said, a bit too upbeat for me.
“Where are you staying tonight?” Sole asked.
I snorted. “I don’t know,” I replied, purposely being snotty because I felt like it.
A look of irritation crossed my ‘friend’s’ features before he stretched; this was his slow way of putting his face back together. Sole could be a real schizoid.
Glancing back at Doro, I could see him motion for me to come behind the bar. “Hold on a sec.” I pushed myself up and past Sole, winking at Ed before I hopped over the bar and followed Dorochet into the back room. For me, it was all too easy to catch the feel of Sole’s suspicious gaze on my back. All that drama could come later though.
Dorochet had what I asked for. It was all sitting there, waiting, concealed in multiple layers of zip-lock bags. The stuff was then even tucked away in a nice doggy bag. A grin came to my face. My fingers itched to touch what was inside.
“You’re damned lucky...else you’d be paying an arm and a leg,” Dorochet snorted, presenting me with my goodies.
“Don’t I know it?”
I guessed that Sole must’ve found it easier to pull himself together in my absence. By the time I’d finished paying Dorochet and had left the bar’s back area, he was stretching languidly. He then looked in my direction, eyes still a bit red, but his expression clearer. “My place?” He grinned tiredly, lopsidedly.
I returned the grin despite the pointed looks Sole and Ed were casting at my baggy. “Sure. What about you, Ed?” At hearing his name, the younger blond shifted his eyes wearily away from me. “Up for a sleepover?”
Ed yawned, arching a fine eyebrow at me. “Not really. I just wanna go the fuck home.” Oooh, some shorty here was real cranky.
I actually giggled, moving to Ed’s side so that I could drape an arm around him. “Come on, Ed. It’s break. Just call home and tell your parents you’re spending the night at a friend’s house,” I edged, pulling him closer to me. My face easily fell into the same seductive look I’d given him in Encore’s bathroom today.
Ed caught it...and then caught himself, a scowl coming to his face. He hated when I tried to manipulate him like that. “Stop that,” shorty snapped, pulling away from me.
True to form, I didn’t back down. “Aww, c’mon Ed, you’re already out, for fuck’s sakes! I promise we won’t molest you or anything.” I paused. “Unless of course you want us to.” Ed’s face went red and I smiled. Never failed.
To me, having a sleepover with Ed was sounding real good right about now. It’d be kinda interesting to watch the shorty sleep...see how he responded to certain things.
Ed sighed, the gesture making him look ten times sleepier than he had looked previously. “This place smells like smoke and alcohol...and the smell is in my clothes...” he murmured, wrinkling his nose for emphasis. “I’d rather not bring that home,” he concluded, giving me a wary look.
“‘Course not!” Laughing, I cast a look at Sole.
“But-” Ed interjected. “-you have to let me wash out my clothes.”
Another glance at Sole...The emo-hippy just shrugged, walking towards the doors. Naturally, we followed the guy with the keys in his bunch. I didn’t realize that Doro hadn’t given me my drink until we were outside, though it didn’t matter too much.
The predictable fist of cold air hit us as we opened the club doors, stepping outside. If possible, the temperature had probably dropped to Ice Age status – it was freezing. You could tell the snow was coming on.
We all bustled into Sole’s car, Martel taking the front seat, Ed and I taking the back seat.
“How far is the place anyway?” Ed asked, his voice groggy with impending slumber. By ‘this place’, he’d obviously meant Sole’s house…he probably just wasn’t very comfortable with saying the guy’s name.
“About a town or two over from Baisley. Relax,” Sole replied easily, his arm draped over the passenger’s seat as the other fiddled with the heat.
It really was damned cold...Ed’s distance didn’t really help. I never was one for those stuffy-down jackets...Edward was almost a whole arm and a leg from me; he’d positioned himself as far as possible, on the other side of the car. Not one to let the shorty have his way, I draped myself across the seat, my head falling on his lap and my arm tossing haphazardly against his shoulder and the window. My knuckles curled easily against the ice-cold glass. Ed tried to mimic ice, but failed; he tensed, staring down at me as if I had ten – fifteen – twenty heads.
“I get sleepy too, shorty,” I murmured, pressing myself even further against him. Ed sighed, leaning his head against the window. I pulled his other hand to rest across my chest. His fingers curled away reflexively. “You gotta learn to be looser, Ed…you can’t be around me and act like you have a stick up your ass,” was my explanation.
My eyes surveyed Ed’s face for a reaction, and after a moment, he just sighed, trying to ease himself into the feel of my body draped across his lap.
“That’s a bit better, Eddi-boy.”
He only smiled slightly at the grin I gave him. Ed hadn’t just been making it up; the smell of Jaded had seeped into his clothes. The scent of weed and alcohol was unmistakable.
Without being able to help it, I laughed.
“What?” Ed asked, seeming unsure about whether or not he really wanted to hear the answer.
“We really do still have a lot to teach you.”
He stared down at me for a moment, before directing his gaze out the car window, nonplussed. “I guess...but it’s not like you guys are teaching me anything vital,” Ed said offhandedly. It was a clear dismissal of ‘our kind’...the dregs, the junkies and overall slackers.
I chuckled at that. “Don’t be so sure, Ed. It pays to be more than book-smart.”
“Really? So you’re implying that book-smarts are also important, right?” Ed snorted. “Funny… since I doubt you’ve picked up anything even remotely resembling a book since God knows when.”
Both Sole and I gave loud tea-kettle whistles at the same time. Martel could be heard snickering.
“That was a bit harsh, Ed. Damn.”
He shrugged, his hand becoming looser on my chest. “It’s true, right?” he pressed.
I arched my back, casting him a catty look as I stretched. “Maybe. I don’t need the school roster to tell me I’m smart. Books don’t do me any good.” Simple enough to understand…and pretty true.
Ed didn’t look convinced though. There was an urge to wipe that smarty-pants look off his face...My hands played at Ed’s shirt, slipping under to feel the uneven, taut plains of a four – maybe six? – pack in the making. Ed jumped at this.
“Relax,” I reminded him, not relenting in my quest.
That was something I found somewhat impressive about Ed: he had a pretty nice body for a kid his age. When I was 15, I couldn’t seem to register a thing on my body that even looked like it’d even tip the damn scale. That particular recollection always did piss me off...
“Why do you do that?” Ed finally managed to breathe, confused, and cloudy amber eyes peeked down at me.
“Insist on doing things to make me...uncomfortable?”
I smirked. “I did say you have to loosen up,” I murmured, rolling to face Ed’s stomach and hefting myself up a bit so I could see what I was doing. My teeth found the boy’s collar bone, and being this close to him, I could feel his heart jump. An obnoxious snicker jumped up in my throat. So like the innocent little shorty… I knew he thought he was anything but innocent by now...it was a shame he couldn’t see how wrong he really was.
To me, nipping at someone was like an instinct. With someone’s heat so close to you, their skin so available...it was hard not to bite. Though as I said, that was me.
The radio then came on. That was Martel and Sole’s way of giving me privacy. Fuck knew how many times the guy had used to radio to block out my activities with certain persons in his back seat. Martel could’ve ignored me either way. Her mind was that consistent. The girl never really got easily distracted.
“You said you wouldn’t molest me,” Ed accused weakly, hands coming up to shove me away.
I pushed back, more aggressive in my approach with my teeth. “I said unless you want me to...” I returned back to the grazing of Ed’s throat, the tasting of the skin that readily available. His heart was hammering in the thousand miles per hour zone and I continued to take advantage. “Talk to me...distract yourself.”
“Yes,” I hissed, sitting up even further and sucking at the base of Ed’s throat. “Tell me about your brother or something.” Yeah, so there was a pretty off chance Ed would actually be able to speak like this, yet alone elaborate on his brother. But it was worth a try. I tell ya, that was my damned mission now: I was going to get Ed to lose a moral or two and loosen up, even if it killed Wrath (not me).
“Go on,” I growled, lips trailing along the edge of his chin, my hands playing at the waist of his pants suggestively.
“Well-uh...his name-aah-is Alphonse...”
I found his belly button. Ed nearly guffawed all over the place when I pressed my finger into it. He seemed to have a bit of an outie goin on there…
Ed went on. Albeit reluctantly. “He’s like a-a year younger than meee-ah-” Ed broke off, arching back slightly as I tweaked a nipple. Oh, the joy of humiliating rookie adolescents...
“I didn’t say to stop talking,” I sang. “Trust me, Ed, this has a point.”
A deep breath on shorty’s part, a leap of the heart as my teeth made contact with aforementioned nipple...Ed all but died. I did too, though from hilarity rather than embarrassment. I’d hardly ever bothered with those before...but they were nice, tawny and brown.
Ed was bored with his life. It was pretty damned obvious. He even fell asleep talking about his family: their quaint, contrite, and all that cloyingly-simplistic bullshit.
Despite the strong urge to scratch my eyes out, I couldn’t help but think Ed was the second person I’d ever held this closely for this long. It was pretty…ok, I guess.
I tried my best to push back all the thoughts about his future.
It was already the same as mine.
Just a big black hole with nothing in it but HIV and AIDS.
“Envy,” Sole called back, when it was apparent the eldest Elric had indeed exhausted himself – he lay hunched over Envy, snoring.
“Hum?” Envy yawned, his head rolling to the side, eyes drowsy and unfocused. He didn't look pleased that his nap had been interrupted.
“It doesn’t matter how attached you get…just don’t set him off. Leave that little girl out of it.”
Envy resisted the urge to cackle...which wasn't hard since he was tired anyway. As if he could ever get attached. As if that little girl could ever be part of this – she was dead, for fuck's sakes. If Ed couldn't see it...
“Tucker would love to see how well he’s grown,” was Envy’s cryptic reply.
The car was silent the rest of the ride. And still, Envy’s eyes were strangely unfocused as he clutched his brown paper bag to him beneath Ed’s slumbering weight.
Everything was quieter than would be expected of this particular place, considering who lived here and all...
Ed woke up knowing exactly where he was. It was strange, considering the place he woke up was somewhere he’d never been before. But maybe that was why it was so easy to peg it as Sole’s place and skip an overdone panic stack of sorts.
That had been a shitty sleep. This was the second thought that’d come to Ed as he lay there on...on a couch?
He sat up, realizing that the comfy surface he was lying on was indeed a couch. Ah, fancy that. Well, good, at least he knew Envy and his goons hadn’t drugged him silly this time. The glorious end result was that, yes, he could still identify a couch when he was sitting on it and that, yes, he could think in clear and intelligible sentences and that, double YES, he could remember where he’d been and what he’d been doing this evening.
Thank God, Ed thought, somewhat hesitantly. He wasn’t sure if it were okay to thank the Lord God for protecting you in a bar. It seemed down right contradictory, but...
The only thing really amiss here was that Ed was still in his smelly clothes, and that his mouth was a bit dry; two things that could easily be remedied if he could just navigate his way through the darkened apartment. Damnit, they could’ve at least left him a map to the nearest lamp, right? But no, consideration wasn’t one of Envy’s strongest suits.
/“I said unless you want me to...” Envy purred.
I nearly choked as his lips tickled at my throat. /
Yes, the older boy had talents elsewhere...talents that would drive the eldest Elric half mad if they continued haunting him at such an inconvenience.
He grumbled to himself, his mind darting elsewhere as if skimming the pages in a long, overbearing book. Ed realized that Sole and Envy must’ve just dumped him there and went off to screw each other silly. It was strange, because Ed wasn’t sure if he should be thankful he hadn’t gotten sucked into that or...jealous, he realized, that he'd been dropped so readily.
Jealous of what?
Maybe because those antagonizing lips that had been on him during the car ride were no longer busy with him? Instead busy with Sole? Ed mentally flushed. In the end, he simply cast the thought away, flipping through yet another particularly-troubling series of pages as he began trudging dazedly around Sole’s apartment. He hoped that his half-hearted attempts at navigation would have him stumble upon either Sole’s kitchen or bathroom…or at least some place where he could find the fragments of his sanity that had been stolen during tonight’s debacle.
And find it (the bathroom, not the sanity fragments or kitchen) he did; he practically ran into it, but stopped himself short when he noticed the door was ajar, leaving a solid triangle of light to stretch across the hallway. Ed sighed, knocking. He wanted a shower of some sort, and if Envy or Sole or both were occupying the shower space, they could at least direct him to some other place where one could be found.
There was a pregnant pause that came after Ed’s knock before Envy replied. His voice was only a tiny bit slurred. “Come in,” he said.
Ed rolled his eyes, bracing himself and pushing the door open. At this point, he figured the worst he could stumble upon was Envy naked or some such thing. Like he hadn’t seen Envy naked before. Well not in a well-lit room, actually, Ed’s mind supplied absently before he halted in his tracks. Ok, there is, of course, worse that can happen. Stupid me.
His eyes darted around the room frantically, desperately trying to put the pieces together in some other way that would prove there was some other explanation for what was in front of him. There, upon the toilet, sat Envy…a cloth wrapped around his forearm and a needle in his veins.
...Ed’s mind was a blank. No, there wasn’t any other explanation…unless Envy was pretending to shoot up just to scare the shit out of him. Well, it was working...suddenly the shower didn’t seem that important anymore.
“No way,” Ed breathed, instinctively stepping back.
Envy didn’t stand to stop him. Instead, he gazed slyly at Edward, his thumb never sparing a bit of pressure on the plunger of the needle. It continued its descent, making sure it expelled all the clear fluid into the boy's veins. Envy's eyes were already mere pinpoints, waiting to dig into the naïve little Elric. “Come keep me company, Ed.”
No, thank you, Ed’s mind fled, while his heart remained childish and resolute in its attraction to Envy’s activities. He was...curious...some gross part of him wanted to see this and...he wasn't sure if that were an even better reason to turn tail or to stay.
Envy smiled wolfishly. He pulled the needle out and noted with satisfaction that he’d gotten almost every last drop of its contents into his system.
Meanwhile, Ed stood apart from him, feet practically glued to the floor.
He could never seem to catch a break or have a choice, now could he?
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