Pairing: slight Envy/Roy
A/N: In the Possession and Chained 'verse. AU after manga 50. *^____^* Gift for forgottenlover.
Warnings: Angst, implied non-con, mind-fuckage, etc.
Summary: There had to be a way out. Had to be.
The maid outfit was a plus, Roy Mustang admitted to himself, sitting up on the hard cot. It neatly accentuated long, pale legs and slim waist. The delicate top also highlighted the woman’s lovely face, long neck, and sensuously styled hair . . . plus nicely displayed her goods when she leaned over to place the food tray down on the cot.
“Bored, Envy?” Roy inquired.
Bright eyes rolled before shifting into the more familiar violet eyes. “No,” Envy said drolly, straightening. “Feeding dead men really makes my day.”
Roy didn’t flinch. Bradley—no, Wrath—had made his fate quite clear when he had dumped him here. From what he had gathered, Edward, Alphonse, and another unnamed alchemist were also trapped here. Edward was in the hands of the homunculus Greed. He knew nothing of Alphonse’s whereabouts.
He knew nothing of Prince Ling at all.
Roy stared steadily into cold, speculative eyes. Nothing unusual about Envy staying for a little bit after giving Roy his food. Envy generally took the time to complain about how bored he was and what a demeaning job this was. However, this was the first time Envy had just stood there. Roy’s fingers instinctively twitched, but nothing happened. His gloves were long gone.
“So. How many times did you fuck the little Fullmetal? Or was it the other way around?”
The accusation itself wasn’t too alarming. He had heard that from many corners in the last three years. Roy just hadn’t been expecting it from this corner.
“Excuse me?” Roy replied politely, folding his hands in his lap. Diplomacy was the key. Diplomacy.
Envy raised an eyebrow. One hand rested on a slim hip. “How many times did you and the squirt fuck? You can tell me? It’s not like it matters anymore.” A careless shrug. “Officially, you and the pipsqueak are dead, and Greed’s got a pretty strong claim on him at the moment.”
Nausea roiled in Roy’s gut. “…Never.”
Envy’s lips quirked in an amused smirk. “Never, eh?”
Roy knew what was coming before Envy took that step forward; however, he couldn’t stop the convulsive clenching of his fists as Envy’s features abruptly melted into heated gold.
“What’s the matter, shit-colonel?” Edward taunted. Deceptively small hands rested on either side of Roy’s hips. “You look a little pale.”
To Roy’s shame, he looked away first. “Is this supposed to have a point?”
“Not really, Sir.” Bile rose in Roy’s throat at the new voice. “Do you have any other questions, Sir?”
Riza Hawkeye’s voice had never held that mocking tone. Sucking in a calming breath, Roy glared. “Do I look like such a fool?” he inquired evenly. He resisted flinching as Envy ran a short, neat nail up his thigh. “Perhaps you should ask your ‘Father’ for new entertainment if you’re so bored.”
The fingers vanished from Roy’s leg. Envy’s familiar features were contorted in a scowl as the homunculus crossed his arms. “I can leave here to find my entertainment,” Envy snarled. “Just remember that.”
Only after Envy slammed the door did Roy begin mechanically eating the tuna sandwich on the tray. Afterwards, he began checking the room, making plans.
Nothing panned out.
When Envy visited later with dinner, he didn’t have a miniskirt or anyone else’s face. Roy was oddly disappointed by that fact. Perhaps Envy was right; perhaps he was bored.
“I should just bring you fish food,” Envy grumbled, putting the tray on the bed. Roy held himself relaxed and ready; he remembered the angry way Envy had left earlier. If nothing else, he might be able to dodge. “Same lifespan and all that.”
Having never owned a fish and thus having never experienced the frustration felt by three out of five fish owners, Roy only stared at him. Envy grunted and leaned back.
“Whatever,” Envy murmured. He flushed oddly sharp teeth. “Enjoy your dinner.”
There was no more conversation. There was no taunts, no transformations, nothing. With a simple, vicious smile, Envy turned around and left Roy with his macaroni and cheese and chicken. Roy stared suspiciously after him, but Envy silently closed the door behind him.
Roy finally sighed and started cutting up his chicken.
There was a way out of here. He only had to find it.
How ironic. The chicken didn’t taste like chicken.
“Roy? Roy, you awake? C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Roy’s eyes snapped open, his harsh breathing loud in the darkness. The only source of light shone from the doorway, blocked by a single familiar figure. Roy licked dry lips. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus. “Maes?” he croaked thickly.
The tall figure extended a hand. “Quickly!” the beloved voice urged. “We’re running out of time!”
As if in a dream, Roy rose. He barely felt the cold floor against his bare feet. The hand never wavered before him, and Roy reached out to take it. To his amazement, the hand was solid. He could feel the calluses from where the other had handed his knives.
Maes . . .
“This is going to be rough, Roy.” The figure stepped back fully into the light, pulling the colonel with him. “So how about a kiss for good luck.”
For the first time, Roy could see the other’s face. Biting back a scream, Roy yanked his hand out of the suddenly icy grip. Vomit burned in his throat. Choking on it, he backed into the room. The door slammed shut, leaving him with only the darkness, Envy’s laughter, and the memory of Maes Hughes’ grinning skull.
“You’re right,” Envy commented, carrying Roy’s breakfast tray into the room. “I did need new entertainment. That’ll work for a while.”
Bloodshot eyes glared at him. “You’re sick,” Roy enunciated, falling back against the wall. “You . . .” He wished he had Fullmetal’s way with words now. Hell, he could barely manage his usual words now. He could barely even think.
Envy tsked at him and laid the tray of eggs on the cot. The smell seared Roy’s nostrils and he choked. Pushing away the tray with one hand, he clapped the other over his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he had anything left to throw up. He didn’t want to find out.
“I’m not sick,” Envy corrected, that damned smirk on his lips. “Greed’s sick. And noisy. Maybe sometime, if you’re good, I’ll take you down so Greed can show you—”
Envy barely ducked the tray. Scrambled eggs smashed into the dull walls, leaving sickly yellow stains. With no visible effort, Envy grabbed Roy’s wrists and forced him to the bed.
“That,” Envy growled, “was a really dumb move.”
Roy spat in his face, only to hiss when Envy tightened his grip. Despite popular assumption, th epain in his wrists did nothing to distract him from the pain in his head. “You said yourself that I’m a dead man. Does it really matter?”
Envy leaned closer. The weight packed in that slender form surprised Roy, but he didn’t let it show on his face. He had a feeling that Envy was still holding a lot back. He failed to make himself care.
“I was going to keep you entertained, too,” Envy growled, the homunculus’ breath cold and fetid. Roy glared back, refusing to flinch away. “I don’t think you realize how much we control right now.”
Before Roy’s eyes, Envy shifted from form to form, beginning with Riza’s elegant figure through Jean Havoc’s grinning form to Edward’s slim body. Not even the automail gave the young man’s body this incredible weight, and Roy gritted his teeth as Envy pressed a little harder against him.
“Wrath controls the fate of your companions,” the homunculus said silkily, the tone incredibly odd coming from Edward’s mouth. “And I control Wrath . . . or have you forgotten?”
Roy didn’t move. “They’re all dead, too,” he replied evenly. “I haven’t forgotten you saying that.”
Envy hesitated, and Roy tried to ignore Fullmetal’s body pressed against him, encased in the usual protective layers of cloth. It was so wrong on so many levels . . . and reminded him that Edward and Alphonse were also in that prison.
“You still have time left,” Envy breathed in Roy’s ear. Roy stared past the silken golden braid. “You’d better figure out how you want to spend them.”
Roy stared at him. “With my self-worth intact,” he said flatly.
Envy didn’t respond, and Roy forced himself to keep staring into those golden eyes, to see past the familiar picture and see the truth.
Damn. Envy was good.
Envy finally shrugged and pushed himself off. “Fine. You tell yourself that,” Hughes’ familiar face grinned at him, “and I’ll keep myself entertained.”
Envy left the room with a soft laugh. Roy watched him go, heard the familiar click of the lock, and clenched his fists. He wouldn’t accept it. Wouldn’t accept such a crushing defeat. Not after all this. There was a way out.
There was a way out.
There was a way--