Sockren (ex_sockren) wrote in temps_mort,
Sockren
ex_sockren
temps_mort

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Mercy - FMA - R

Title: Mercy
Author: Sockren
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Type: Yaoi. Angst.
Pairing: Roy x Ed
Rating: R
Summary: Another failed transmutation has permanent consequences.
Challenge: Beginning, Middle, End.
Disclaimer: FMA does not belong to me.
Notes: Please don't hurt me. I’ve never written with a time limit. I am aware it is bad. And rushed.


I.


The door slammed and Roy lifted his head from where it had been buried in paperwork. The older man smirked, a disarming look as he watched the Fullmetal Alchemist's furious rampage. A couch was kicked and Ed glared, slumping in it miserably. The red coat appeared twisted, sliding over his shoulder as if it had been roughly pulled on and he hadn't finished tugging the garment up his arms. The auto-mail port had been revealed and that had been a simple enough revelation.

"Fullmetal?" the Colonel had barked out, words leaving his lips carefully as the corner of his lip twitched up and a carefully practiced 'heh' left his lips. “Is there a problem that you need my help with?”

Looking upward, Edward’s exterior radiated feral determination. The braid was flipped over a tanned shoulder with the toss of his head and the younger alchemist seemed to make up his mind. The cat-like stretch across the couch was predictable and an auto-mail ankle was slung up on a knee for support before the older Elric said smugly, “It’s my birthday.”

A confused look had crossed Roy’s face. The man had folded his hands together, leaning on them for a moment, before brushing aside classified documents and mission briefs. “I hope you aren’t expecting a package from me,” the darker alchemist had finally settled on, standing. The Colonel grabbed a cup on his desk and stepped towards a small side-table. The older man lifted the pitcher of coffee and quickly poured himself a re-fill.

“Not a package, no,” Edward had acknowledged, head nodding slightly. “I want to kiss you.”

The testing sip that Roy had been taking was spewed out all over the blue carpeting and the Flame Alchemist stared at Edward in mild shock. The dark man mentally congratulated himself on not dropping the cup and leaned against his desk, the corner digging into his thigh. “What?” the Colonel demanded.

“I’ve never kissed anyone and I heard you‘re not bad at it,” Edward said sheepishly, running a hand through his bangs. He leaned back into the leather of the couch, a slight crimson creeping up on his cheeks. Resolve, however, wasn’t something that Edward Elric lacked and he steeled himself, a tentative growl coming from his lips. “So I thought you could kiss me and then I’d have gotten it over with.”

“I see,” Mustang murmured, rubbing his chin for a moment. The man’s looked at Edward’s dedicated appearance and chuckled, running a hand through strands of ebony hair. “But, why do you want to be kissed so badly, anyway?”

Edward twitched, “None of your damn business. Now are you going to kiss me or not?” The younger man crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared. Golden orbs narrowed and Roy was glad that looks couldn’t kill. Sighing, the older man lifted his head in an injured fashion, saying with an overly dramatic tone, “I suppose I could kiss you. However, with you being that small... I will have to kneel.”

“Who are you calling short like an ant that is squashed underfoot?” Edward grated out. The boy turned red, furious, and stood suddenly, auto-mail drawn into a fist. Roy simply looked amused at the action, though the smirk did nothing but make Ed madder.

“Fullmetal, should I remind you of the consequences of hitting your superior officer,” Mustang had said, the words silky and deep. Edward watched the pale throat move and gulped, eyes tracing the Colonel’s jaw-line and finally settling on the man’s lips. The right-corner was tugged up slightly and there was worry on the bottom, the hint of a bad habit.

“Who says I’m going to hit you?” the blond alchemist challenged before finally launching himself at the older man. Auto-mail was slammed into uniformed legs and then Mustang hit the ground with a thud. Air left his lungs with an ‘oof’ and was dutifully sucked as the older man fought to clear his vision. Edward had actually hit...

Then, there was warmth. The smaller man crawled on top of Mustang, legs nestled on either side of the Colonel’s. His arms rested delicately on top of blue fabric, folded against military regalia. The smug look on Edward’s face was satisfied as the short man looked down at the Colonel, for once. It was the pinnacle of Ed’s existence, a triumph.

The smug look only lasted until Roy elected to take the upper hand. Allowing Edward a few minutes of ‘triumph’, the Colonel waited and then leaned up on his elbows, reaching his head forward until he brushed his lips against Edward’s. The noise of outrage was audible and Roy laughed softly, “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No,” the older Elric growled, even as Roy’s tongue shot out to swipe at his lips. “I want to kiss you. I don’t want you to kiss me.”

The Colonel seemed to think about this for a moment before he sat up the rest of the way, forcing a disappointed Edward Elric to perch on his thighs. “No,” the man said finally before reaching to grab the younger alchemist’s braid, using it to gently encourage the man’s head to tilt back. Angry eyes stared up at him and then there was surprise again as Roy kissed him. The touch was soft, chaste. Still, Edward’s metal arm creaked as it tightened against his shoulders.

The movements seemed almost involuntary. Lips parted easily under the first, hesitant press of Roy’s tongue. Mustang’s hand dropped the braid, arms wrapping around the smaller form. Edward’s other hand lifted and worked its way around the Colonel’s neck, gently itching at the strands of hair that met the skin-line.

It didn’t stay chaste. Edward was warm, wet and furious. The kiss was accompanied by bites, the tightening of muscles and metallic joints, and the dig fingers into stray pieces of hair. He kissed like he was drowning and Roy was oxygen. And, Mustang gentled the kiss. He was the one who stroked Ed’s back and encouraged him closer, soothed bites and nips with passionate licks and sucks with his tongue.

Breaking away occasionally for oxygen left hot breath on Mustang’s cheek as Ed panted before lifting his head to kiss harder, hungrily pressing his lips downwards again and again and again because tasting Mustang was like tasting sex and it was scorching. It was like touching fire and then coming back in hopes of just one more burn. Edward didn’t know when it had turned from soft, chaste kisses into Roy growling possessively into his mouth, fingers tugging on honey-colored tresses, but it had.

And, then it stopped. Mustang looked upwards, confused for a moment. Edward’s lips were bruised and his hair was tousled, mussed from the pawing of glove-covered hands. The alchemist’s breath was hot, against his throat now, and every breath of warm air was accompanied by an appreciating nip.

“Fuck,” Edward finally intoned and Roy smirked, lacing his fingers together behind Edward’s back to prevent any escape. The older man continued to look dignified, even huddled on the floor with the Fullmetal Alchemist in his lap, and that sure, challenging look only incensed the smaller man more. A smart remark nearly left Ed’s lips before the blond man went back to remembering how to breathe.

“Satisfied now?” the Colonel asked.

“No,” Edward responded. “Now I want sex.”

It was given, freely. And hours later, naked limbs were wound tight together. No confessions of love broke the silence. There was just an annoyed grunt from Mustang as he complained at the heaviness of Edward’s prosthetic arm and a responding grunt from the owner of arm as he refused to move it.

“So this is your place?” Ed finally demanded once he had enough of his brain working again. The alchemist glanced around the room and catalogued that it only contained a bathroom, living room and bedroom. Then, the younger man sat up, unbound hair falling down his shoulders and covering scars. Gold eyes blinked and a human hand reached to rub at his tailbone as he winced. “Kind of small, isn’t it?”

“What can I say?” Roy said with his characteristic taunting smile. “I like small things.”

II.


The light had been the most blinding and horrific light Roy had ever seen. Alchemic responses typically were associated with light, a reaction of the object’s changing matter. The light had been close, searing against pale eyelids. Lashes, like coal brushed over almost feminine cheeks, had shot open and a hand had patted the other side of the bed. Empty. A moment later, gloves had been on and Roy had stood, pulling on a coat and swinging himself out of bed. Hands fumbled, jerking pants over hips.

The room had still smelled like Edward.

“Edward?!” Mustang demanded. Stumbling down the stairs, the man snapped and oil lamps lit themselves throughout the house. And, Roy froze.

The living room had been altered while the darker alchemist had slept upstairs. Furniture had dutifully been pushed back, the rug peeled off the floor, and, there on wooden planks, an array had been drawn. The complicated array was etched in chalk, smeared in charcoal, and Roy felt bile rise in his throat as his eyes finally fell upon what the circle contained.

In the center of the carefully drawn circles of the alchemical design, was a boy. The figure’s face was perfect and pristine. Pale, baby-like skin looked smooth and untouched by the elements. Gray eyes were open in the darkness, empty and unseeing. Lips were open slightly, glinting slightly with moisture. The short, blond hair was ashen colored. And, stroked with blood.

As Roy’s eyes looked downward, he took in the armor plates that protruded from the boy’s neck and grabbed the stair’s railing in shock. They had slit the throat cleanly, exposing the wind-pipe hidden beneath severed flesh. Most of the body was armor, sections of it making up limbs or showing signs of having cut through internal organs. It was horrifying and the room smelled like blood and death. The hint of burnt skin assaulted the Colonel’s nostrils and he pulled an elbow over his nose, breathing into blue fabric. The figure’s charred skin had been scorched by the alchemical reaction.

The most horrifying thing, however, was that, in the chest of the creature, a hand stretched outwards, the shoulder embedded in the monster‘s chest cavity, hand reaching outward. Blood curled around the edges where metal met flesh. Blood eased its way down the hand’s surface. Clutched in the leather glove and held immobile by leather fingers was the remains of a heart, torn in half by an extended metallic digit.

“Just leave...” came a voice, the remainder of the sentence choked off by the sound of throwing up. Mustang turned rapidly and caught sight of the shaking figure kneeling at the base of a second array. The maniacal laughter that left Edward’s throat was almost as chilling as the blood that spilled its way down his chin.

“No,” the Colonel responded, stepping closer.

Instantly, Ed tried to stand, coughing up blood and collapsing. The shoulder clinked hard, wood against unyielding metal, and Edward stilled. Breath was sucked in, the noise loud in the silence of the room. “Stay back,” the younger alchemist hissed. The man jerked, turning his body as best he could to face the older man. The Colonel simply stared as light strands were soaked in crimson and chalk.

“Tell me,” the man finally said, trying to sound composed. “Tell me what you’ve done and then tell me what... the price was.”

“I tried to turn Alphonse back,” came the monotone voice. It was quiet, lacking bitterness or depression. It was apathetic, breaking the silence but sending no emotion. “It failed. At first... I thought it was going to work. I thought I had enough power. Now that I had the array, I thought I could make it work. I was able to discover that... the body had to be created first.”

Roy stepped closer, boots sliding in blood as he bent down. Edward was laid flat by gloved hands and a pulse was taken. Then, the older man stepped towards the phone, dialing for an ambulance. Edward ignored the actions. They were pointless.

“I created the body. I transmuted Alphonse’s soul into it,” the young man said. The voice grew hysterical again and Edward laughed. “But, I forgot it was fixed to the armor. So, when I transmuted the soul into the body, the armor decided to follow.”

“Like a chimera’s creation,” Roy said slowly, pulling Edward‘s body so that his head was supported by the soldier‘s lap. “The soul was already fixed. So the only logical reaction was to fuse the two beings together.”

“Roy... Al was in that body. He yelled ‘Niisan, it’s working!’ And then it ripped him apart,” Ed hissed. The voice had grown dispassionate again and Roy touched Edward’s auto-mail shoulder. The darkness of Edward’s face was broken only by the flicker of light from the oil lamps. The young man’s cheeks were unusually pale, golden eyes dimmed. “God.. Al...”

“What was the cost for the transmutation Edward?” the older man demanded. “What did you pay to create it?”

“I thought I would just pay a limb or two,” the shorter alchemist whispered, hand reaching to clutch Mustang’s. “I thought that would be equivalent trade.”

“What was it?” Roy whispered. The words were forgiving but carried with a note of fear and Edward was confused. Nothing frightened Colonel Roy Mustang.

“It took my life-span and the parts of several internal organs,” Edward responded dispassionately as he looked up, head in Roy’s lap. Gloved fingers were suddenly passing through his hair, pressing softly on his scalp, and golden eyes closed. A wetness dripped suddenly on the older Elric’s forehead and eyelids opened. “You’re crying.”

“No. There’s a leak on the floor above us,” Roy mumbled, turning away and leaning back into the darkness. There was a snort from Edward’s position. The room quieted, the excuse accepted though the tracks of wetness down the Colonel’s face had been evident. Edward waited, listening to the sounds of sirens in the distance. “How much of your life-span did it take?” Mustang finally demanded. His voice was composed again and there was no indication of the momentary slip of his impenetrable mask.

“Don’t you mean... how long do you have to live?” said Edward, squeezing the gloved hand despite the blood and watching red darken the pristine cloth.

“Yes,” Roy said.

“Not long,” Edward said, voice breaking with pain.

III.


When Edward woke, he transmuted his arm and pressed it against his neck, fighting with weakened muscles to slide the blade through his throat. Clapping arms together would have been impossible. He could barely lift his head, let alone lift both arms and slam them together. As an alternative, the alchemist had spent the last hour painstakingly drawing an array into the side of the bed with chalk he’d asked Roy for.

Roy had woken at the metal’s transmutation and watched. Edward would have been furious at any interference. So, Mustang didn’t interfere. The auto-mail arm lifted, sweat gathered on Edward’s brow and, after two hours, the blade reached the soft flesh of the younger man’s throat. His body had heaved and fought to slice, cut and stop the pain. Movement forward was impossible.

Whimpers and groans had broken the silence of the room and the struggle was desperate in between muffled screams of pain. Edward managed to slide the arm forward another inch, but it didn’t cut, only indented the skin slightly. Then, he gave up.

Roy frowned and stepped forward then, grabbing the auto-mail arm and disconnecting it. The metal object hit the hardwood floor with a thud and Ed’s eyes caught the older alchemist’s. Roy sighed and grabbed several pillows, propping the smaller man up and then wiping the bead of blood that appeared at his lip’s with a clinical detachment.

“I love you,” Mustang said finally. “I wasn’t planning on saying it. Not yet, anyway. But, I want you to know I do. It would be foolish of me to refuse to tell you because of pride.”

Edward laughed, coughing slightly, and was offered water instantly to clear his throat. The sip was tentative and the swallow audible. “I love you too,” the younger alchemist said. “And you’re an idiot anyway-”

The sentence was cut short by pain. Edward’s face tightened and a whimper left his lips, the gasp of fear quiet as his body shook. The wait was agonizing, but eventually Ed stilled and spat blood onto the offered handkerchief.

“I want to die,” the blond man said suddenly, eyes watering. He jerked, limbs unresponsive and finally Roy grabbed a tissue, wiping pale cheeks and cleaning off the hot trail-marks of tears.

“I know,” the older man said. He leaned over, kissed the warm cheek and ran a hand over Ed’s body, careful of his chest. There was a slight twitch of human fingers against his uniform, digits rubbing blue fabric. Roy‘s eyes followed the movement. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” was all Ed said. “It’s mercy.”

A pillow was selected and Edward watched, muscles tense. Then, Roy pressed the item carefully against the younger alchemist’s face, sealing it. The struggle was feeble. But, the twitching of muscle, fighting and struggling to find air to force into the body’s remaining lung, made Roy’s breath catch in his throat, as it tightened. Tears were forced back and the Colonel pressed the pillow harder, watching it color with blood as Edward coughed beneath white, smothering fabric.

Finally, Roy just held the blond head, stroking hair as he groaned in miserable anguish. The form stilled and then tears came freely. He made sure the pillow remained, a look of torture spreading across pale features. Mustang lifted the pillow, hand pressed against Ed’s throat, and checked for a pulse. There was no motion under bare fingertips.

The small form was hugged and cradled. Tears fell into strands of hair and Roy made a soft, keening noise in the back of his throat as he rocked the broken body. It was horrible. Horrible to find someone like this and lose them just as quickly.

Shifting, Mustang picked the body up, holding it firmly in his arms. The forehead was kissed and eyes forced closed as the man carried him downstairs. Edward’s form was gently placed next to the sheets of armor and container of ashes. The two Elric brothers. Both dead from the same horrible mistake.

And still, Roy couldn’t think on death. He could only think of warm kisses pressed against the corners of his lips. The way Edward stretched beneath him, gasping for breath as they kissed, remained in his mind. There was waking up to cold because someone had stolen his covers and feeling someone curled on your chest, arms lazily flipping through some obscure book. The alchemist could remember walking through Central at night because Edward grew restless then, eating out of cans by candle-light because they were too lazy to go out for real food, and battles for who would do the laundry that week because arguing counted as foreplay. There were a handful of moments but each moment was as small as a grain of sand.

So, Roy spread gasoline all over the living room and then lay himself next to Edward, staring at the pale face, and tugged on a glove. The smile was bittersweet as he kissed those lips, cold and unmoving. If someone had asked him why he’d cared enough to take such a drastic action, Roy would have smirked and informed them that the only person who deserved insight into his personal behavior was dead.

The air was adjusted and then Roy snapped his fingers.
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