Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist > Something More Than This
Something More Than This
"His voice is raw from the rough edges of the fragments and bitter emotion, but there's an almost desperate glint of humour in his gaze." [Animeverse.]
?Blocked
Something More Than This
by Charis
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: For Lust month on the fma_fuh_q community on LJ; pairing claim was Lust / Greed. Animeverse; a lot rougher than I wanted, but this pairing is just not cooperating mutters Slight AU, or at least convolution of timelines in order to fit this in.
He's still in the circle when she enters the house, coughing his lives up onto the polished marble floor. The stones melt at his feet, a puddle of red she knows well, and she watches as dispassionately as she can. It's unsettling, to see one of them like this - to realise that all their immortality is ultimately false. For all her desire to be human, she's still not made her peace with the fragility of life.
"Come to gloat?"
The words shock her from her musings; his voice is raw from the rough edges of the fragments and bitter emotion, but there's an almost desperate glint of humour in his gaze. She tosses her hair and smiles, sweet and empty.
"That person wanted me to make sure this plays out properly."
"Properly," Greed echoes, and his laugh is hollow. "So you're supposed to make sure I don't leave. Are you so loyal to her that you'll do that?" Something must betray her, because the mocking grin returns. "What's she promised you, eh?"
"It's none of your business."
"She's a liar. She always was - a lying, self-centred bitch, from the very beginning. Don't expect her to keep her promises."
Curiosity wars with disgust, and wins. "Why?" she asks, against her better judgement - but she's only been told to keep him here, by any means necessary, and talking is preferable to having to injure him before the Fullmetal Boy arrives.
Greed just shakes his head, bemused. "Trust me."
She makes a sound of dismissal, one that quickly becomes surprise when he grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall. The flash of anger is unexpected, moreso the hiss of his voice in her ear. "Scoff all you want. I knew her years ago, and she hasn't changed a bit. Whatever you want, you won't get it from her."
"And you expect me to let you walk out of here because of that?"
The menace slides away, veiled in silk. "Hardly. But you could make the wait more ... /interesting/."
He's not subtle, not by any stretch of the imagination, but his sin has little of subtlety to it. Hers is another thing, flame and flesh, and since she doesn't have anything to do but wait, she leans forward as best she can in his grip. His lips are warm, still smeared with the red of the stone, and he tastes of blood and of fire and somehow alive, very much alive - more so than the men (and women) she's had since waking, and it's not that she doesn't have to do this, because there have been others like that. Maybe, she thinks wildly, it's that he's staring death in the face - and then his mouth opens to hers, and that flavour sweeps into hers along with his tongue, and she lets herself stop thinking. She's not afraid he'll escape - there's a truth in the kiss, almost a resignation - and since he's keeping her arms pinned, she lifts one leg to curl around his.
Silk slithers against flesh, loud in a silence punctuated only by the sound of his mouth on hers (or is it hers on his, and does it matter?). The wall is cool against her back, and maybe that's why his body feels unnaturally hot, lean and hard as he presses against her curves. He is warmest between her thighs, and perhaps it's her sin, but she makes a soft demanding sound in the back of her throat and pushes her hips against his in an unspoken demand. He's not what she wants, not who she wants, but memories and humanity are still so far from her, and she'll take this simulacrum if that's all she can have. In sweat and pain and tangled limbs, she almost feels alive.
Neither of them is concerned with the niceties of this: this has nothing of softer emotions in it, only words like want and need and a muttered oh fuck, oh god, please, please when first strong fingers and then the fuller hardness of his cock slide into her. She knows she is wet, wetter than she has been in - as long as she can remember, but it's been so long, and when one of his hands squeezes her breast roughly and pinches the nipple, it's just right somehow, and her head falls back as her breath hitches in with a half-sob, half-keen. Too much, too fast, but this is what she wants - no false gentleness, no lies, just man and woman in that primal dance, hands and lips and teeth and sex and the slick slide and slap and she's close, so close, so goddamn close -
Later, she watches from the shadows as he faces off with the Fullmetal boy, her thighs still damp from their encounter, and wonders if perhaps she ought to cry (it occurs to her distantly that, were she human, she would, which only reminds her of that quest), but to do so would further nothing, and as she has other matters to attend to, she discards the notion without a second thought.
- finis -
by Charis
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: For Lust month on the fma_fuh_q community on LJ; pairing claim was Lust / Greed. Animeverse; a lot rougher than I wanted, but this pairing is just not cooperating mutters Slight AU, or at least convolution of timelines in order to fit this in.
He's still in the circle when she enters the house, coughing his lives up onto the polished marble floor. The stones melt at his feet, a puddle of red she knows well, and she watches as dispassionately as she can. It's unsettling, to see one of them like this - to realise that all their immortality is ultimately false. For all her desire to be human, she's still not made her peace with the fragility of life.
"Come to gloat?"
The words shock her from her musings; his voice is raw from the rough edges of the fragments and bitter emotion, but there's an almost desperate glint of humour in his gaze. She tosses her hair and smiles, sweet and empty.
"That person wanted me to make sure this plays out properly."
"Properly," Greed echoes, and his laugh is hollow. "So you're supposed to make sure I don't leave. Are you so loyal to her that you'll do that?" Something must betray her, because the mocking grin returns. "What's she promised you, eh?"
"It's none of your business."
"She's a liar. She always was - a lying, self-centred bitch, from the very beginning. Don't expect her to keep her promises."
Curiosity wars with disgust, and wins. "Why?" she asks, against her better judgement - but she's only been told to keep him here, by any means necessary, and talking is preferable to having to injure him before the Fullmetal Boy arrives.
Greed just shakes his head, bemused. "Trust me."
She makes a sound of dismissal, one that quickly becomes surprise when he grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall. The flash of anger is unexpected, moreso the hiss of his voice in her ear. "Scoff all you want. I knew her years ago, and she hasn't changed a bit. Whatever you want, you won't get it from her."
"And you expect me to let you walk out of here because of that?"
The menace slides away, veiled in silk. "Hardly. But you could make the wait more ... /interesting/."
He's not subtle, not by any stretch of the imagination, but his sin has little of subtlety to it. Hers is another thing, flame and flesh, and since she doesn't have anything to do but wait, she leans forward as best she can in his grip. His lips are warm, still smeared with the red of the stone, and he tastes of blood and of fire and somehow alive, very much alive - more so than the men (and women) she's had since waking, and it's not that she doesn't have to do this, because there have been others like that. Maybe, she thinks wildly, it's that he's staring death in the face - and then his mouth opens to hers, and that flavour sweeps into hers along with his tongue, and she lets herself stop thinking. She's not afraid he'll escape - there's a truth in the kiss, almost a resignation - and since he's keeping her arms pinned, she lifts one leg to curl around his.
Silk slithers against flesh, loud in a silence punctuated only by the sound of his mouth on hers (or is it hers on his, and does it matter?). The wall is cool against her back, and maybe that's why his body feels unnaturally hot, lean and hard as he presses against her curves. He is warmest between her thighs, and perhaps it's her sin, but she makes a soft demanding sound in the back of her throat and pushes her hips against his in an unspoken demand. He's not what she wants, not who she wants, but memories and humanity are still so far from her, and she'll take this simulacrum if that's all she can have. In sweat and pain and tangled limbs, she almost feels alive.
Neither of them is concerned with the niceties of this: this has nothing of softer emotions in it, only words like want and need and a muttered oh fuck, oh god, please, please when first strong fingers and then the fuller hardness of his cock slide into her. She knows she is wet, wetter than she has been in - as long as she can remember, but it's been so long, and when one of his hands squeezes her breast roughly and pinches the nipple, it's just right somehow, and her head falls back as her breath hitches in with a half-sob, half-keen. Too much, too fast, but this is what she wants - no false gentleness, no lies, just man and woman in that primal dance, hands and lips and teeth and sex and the slick slide and slap and she's close, so close, so goddamn close -
Later, she watches from the shadows as he faces off with the Fullmetal boy, her thighs still damp from their encounter, and wonders if perhaps she ought to cry (it occurs to her distantly that, were she human, she would, which only reminds her of that quest), but to do so would further nothing, and as she has other matters to attend to, she discards the notion without a second thought.
- finis -
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