FMA Fanfic: Misjudgment
Misjudgment.
by arcanewinter. NC17 3177 Greed!ling(Ling)*Ed. Fullmetal Alchemist. Mangaverse, no spoilers if you know who Greedling is.
For ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
crazyloststar. Greed can be ruthless when he gets bored, but maybe everyone wins in the end.
These characters do not belong to me. I do not profit from this. [...]
“I don’t have to be Wrath to see it, you know.”
Ed looked up from his recently-repaired automail at the unexpected conversation. Even small adjustments took some getting used to, and it was better to do that now than later, in the midst of battle. “Huh?”
Greed leaned forward where he sat across the dusty table, folding his arms on its surface. For a moment he merely kept his stealthy grin, drinking in Ed’s attention. They were alone.
“The way you look at him,” he continued. “Or rather, the way you look at me when you’re looking at him.”
Ed stiffened, then tried to resume his inspection, jerking out the joint in his elbow a little too hard, a little too nervously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t think he ever picked up on it,” Greed went on, breaking eye contact just long enough to glance pointedly at the symbol on the back of his hand. “Too young, I guess?” His violet eyes returned comfortably to Ed. “I bet you’ve been pretty thankful for that.”
Ed balled his right hand into a fist, then worked out the finger joints calmly, trying very hard not to sound like someone denying the truth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He scraped around desperately for a reason to call the others back in, or to run out to get them, but nothing came to mind. Greed was fast gaining the upper hand.
“But see,” Greed jeered proudly, ignoring him, “this is kind of my thing.” He stood up, boots sounding distinctly on the wooden floor. He set his left hand on the table just where Ed was staring, unwaveringly, and when Ed heard his voice again, it was much closer to his ear. “And now that I know it, so does he.”
Ed was on his feet before he could think to stand, and one hand had pushed Greed away so quickly that Ed had only a memory of the feel of flesh beneath the black shirt. No Shield.
He tried to scoff, tried to play it cool. “I think your ego’s finally gone to your head.” He forced himself to meet Greed’s eyes. He even smirked a little, focusing on their inhuman color. “Do you say this shit to everybody? Does it work?”
Greed didn’t answer. He took a step forward, grinning slyly with Ling’s face, and Ed, who never backed down, took a step backward. He knew the mistake the moment his boot touched the floor. Greed seized the opportunity, advancing into him until the wall was at Ed’s back, and though he didn’t cower, he could go no further. He glared fiercely, even as Greed took that last step, forcing their hips into close contact.
“Oh, I don’t know,” murmured Greed, shifting to accommodate for the height difference. “Seems to be.”
Ed colored. Against a homunculus, he was already at a disadvantage made more crippling by his current position. But he was far from helpless. “If you don’t get the hell off me, there’s gonna be pain.”
“Come on, Ed,” reasoned Greed, a finger tugging open his own shirt, revealing the line of his collarbone. “I’m doing you a favor.” He tugged further, glancing down at the chest Ed was already staring at.
“It’s still his body, right?”
Before Ed could think of reacting, the fabric was already open to Greed’s belt, and he couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that it should stop there.
Greed chuckled, and Ed watched the muscles tense in his stomach. “It’s a pretty good one, too.”
And it was. Ed knew he shouldn’t be agreeing with Greed, but he couldn’t deny something that had been bumping around in the back of his thoughts since they’d met. He’d tried to deny it a million times already.
But Ed would never give up the fact that it was Ling’s body first. “You’ve got no right,” he growled, and clapping his hands together, he sent an extension of the wall hurtling towards Greed. There was a satisfying crack, but through the bits of debris, Ed could see that Greed had stepped aside at the last moment, the concrete buckling and shattering around his Shielded hand.
“You know,” Greed muttered, “you act like I was forced on him.” He stepped forward again, in one fluid movement bringing his still-outstretched hand under Ed’s chin. “But he wanted me, remember?” Greed’s claws were cool against Ed’s cheeks, but they soon warmed, and softened. It was Ling’s skin against him now. “So why don’t you and me play this game mutually, hm? Everybody wins.”
Ed tried to avoid Greed’s gaze, but even when he looked him in the eye, he could think only of Ling, of Ling being this close, of Ling’s hands on him, even if it could never happen, even if it didn’t make sense. He didn’t stop Greed from moving closer, from sliding his arm behind him now. He didn’t shy from his breath falling on Ed’s ear, or even from the hand that slipped down to the inside of his thigh, its touch transmitted easily through the taut leather. He even inclined his head, turned his nose towards the straight black hair to smell it, and he almost reached out, himself, almost pulled Greed closer.
This was as close as it was going to get. The object of his infatuation was being handed to him on a platter. There were no questions to ask, and no answers to bear. This was it. This was Greed, who wanted, and Ed wanted with him. It would be that simple.
“Well?” Greed murmured. “What’s the matter?”
Ed balled his fists as he once again failed to lift his arms to grasp him. He knew what the matter was, all right: his raging, near-boundless desire was being met, here and now, but it wasn’t what he wanted, not at all what he wanted. I want it to be Ling.
“You what?”
Ed paled, then flushed. He’d said it aloud, maybe only halfway, but still, he had no other excuse. This was the hurdle he couldn’t move past.
“I want it to be Ling.”
It was muted, but he’d said it. He wanted it to be Ling. He couldn’t look at Greed and not see Ling, he couldn’t hear his voice and not expect the emperor’s arrogance he secretly envied. He couldn’t.
Greed paused, then drew back to pin him with his gaze, silent for a moment.
“You’d rather have him?” Ed said nothing, but Greed went on, irritable. “You’d rather have an inexperienced, clumsy, amateur human?”
“He’s not–” Ed spat, but he stopped short out of fear of defending Ling within earshot.
Greed scoffed with doubt, possibly with disappointment. But his control soon resurfaced, and a sly grin returned to his petulant mouth. “You don’t think so?”
Ed stiffened to feel Greed’s palm move smoothly to cup him between his legs, and his involuntary inhale seemed to draw Greed closer. Their mouths didn’t touch, though the slightest movement from either of them would have closed the gap, with or without purpose. The hand on his crotch kept Ed achingly still.
“Then let’s find out,” Greed murmured.
The words were palpable against Ed’s lips, and in the seconds that followed, he realized he’d closed his eyes. A few seconds more, however, and he’d opened them. Greed hadn’t moved an inch. Neither had Ed. He could still feel his breath falling where his escaped between his lips in short, uncertain huffs.
Movement finally followed, but it wasn’t in the direction Ed told himself he dreaded. Greed withdrew so slightly that Ed wouldn’t have noticed if they hadn’t been close enough to sense each other’s pulse.
“I didn’t think he’d let me go,” the other murmured in the enduring hush.
Ed didn’t have time to hide his stunned expression before Ling lifted eyes far darker than Greed’s to catch it.
Ling.
A small sound registered in the back of Ed’s throat, but Ling didn’t seem to notice, just as he didn’t notice where his hand still enveloped him.
“I don’t have much time,” Ling warned lowly. Ed didn’t have the chance for further comment or protest before Ling took his hand and turned, heading briskly toward the worn staircase of the shack. Ed followed with a singular focus on the heat of Ling’s hand against his, nearly tripping on the warped wood as they swiftly climbed.
There was just one room at the top of the stairs, empty of any indication of why Ling had fled here. There was no telling how long Greed would remain passive, and Ed knew Ling could only fight him off for so long when he wanted back out. Where Ling could possibly escape to, or what plan he’d been formulating in the back of Greed’s mind, Ed couldn’t imagine. What would be the use?
Ling released his hand and took a step past him before he turned. Unlike Ed, he seemed to have no trouble making eye contact, but still his mouth was troubled. He was making a decision, and evidently a difficult one.
Ed still hadn’t found his voice. He couldn’t shake the feeling of closeness, of Ling’s hands on him. That Greed had put them there only increased his shame. Ling knew what they’d been doing, even if he had more important matters to consider right now. Ed should have been considering those matters too, but his mind–his body–was stubbornly and selfishly fixated.
“If I knew I’d have another chance . . .”
Ling’s words faded into the dimness of the room, the failing light making it difficult to determine the stillness of his mouth when he bowed his head only slightly to the side.
Ed didn’t have long to wonder. Without meeting his eyes again, Ling strode to meet him. Ed felt himself drawn up to the balls of his feet by the strong arm behind his back, his head tilted back by the fingertips that found their way deep into the base of his braid.
Eyes wide, he still couldn’t grasp what was going on, even if the glint in Ling’s eyes told him everything. His heart was pounding, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Wait, wait, wait–”
But Ling had evidently waited long enough. His grip still tight on Ed’s braid, he pressed his mouth to Ed’s.
He should have been fighting him. He should have been making an effort to push him away, at least to preserve his name, at least to ensure he could look at either of them–Greed or Ling–afterward. He should have been thinking of what might be at risk, of the unstable partnership that he needed to maintain for the sake of them all.
But Ed’s thoughts were elsewhere; Ed was trying desperately to keep up with someone whose experience was obviously far beyond his. And he was vibrantly content to do so until Ling suddenly took his hand and pressed it down somewhere very warm.
Ed jerked back, his hand tingling faintly from the unexpected contact as he held it close to him. “I said WAIT! You can’t–We’re not–”
Ling didn’t pursue him. It was still damnably hard to make out his face in this light, but from the way Ling kept his shoulders square, he didn’t seem to be having the same trouble. His concern apparently lay elsewhere. He lifted his hand, its back facing Ed. “Is it this? Is it what’s in me?”
“What? No! I mean–” Yes, it disturbed and angered Ed to all hell that there was something in his friend, controlling him, changing him on par with those other atrocities, but that wasn’t it. Even if Ling were only Ling, Ed would never have expected this. He wouldn’t have known what he really wanted from it. “I don’t know what you want from me. This isn’t something we’re supposed to act on. I don’t even know what this is. But it’s pointless.”
“So what?” Ling stepped forward again, close enough that Ed could hear the turmoil in his voice. “So what if it’s pointless? We’re both gambling everything for what we want, what we need to do. Aren’t these kinds of things worth the same risk?”
Ed sighed, studying a floor too dark to make out. He didn’t like this unpredictability. He didn’t like the inevitability of his mistakes in this endeavor. “I don’t even know what these kinds of things are.”
“And you have the time to figure them out,” Ling answered, but his voice carried the unmistakable tinge of bitterness. “I don’t. I could have thrown everything away, accepting what I did.” Ed felt his hand gripping his left shoulder, gently pushing it. “I already knew; Greed didn’t tell me anything new. This is my chance. Just let me do this with you.”
So Ling had known. He’d noticed. Greed had just been toying with him. And if this was his game, then there was no telling when Greed would allow this again. Or if he would at all.
Ed turned slowly under the persistent guidance. He could have resisted it, it wasn’t strong, but he didn’t, not even when he felt Ling’s hands at his belt.
His heart was racing, thudding in his chest where his breath seemed caught, filling his lungs to bursting. He tried to be quiet as Ling’s fingers worked out the button and zipper to find him already pressing against the thin cloth of his boxers. But even that wasn’t to shield him for long.
He bit his lip as Ling finally curled his fingers around him. Realizing his automail hand was gripping Ling’s forearm, probably painfully, he transferred his grip to Ling’s hip. “What do I do?” he gasped, trying to keep the air from rushing too loudly from him.
“Nothing,” Ling murmured, and Ed was relieved to hear him just as breathless. “You don’t have to do anything.”
Ling’s other hand drifted up Ed’s stomach under his shirt, and for a moment Ed wasn’t breathing at all under his fingertips. Skin, muscle, scars–his exploration was thorough, indulgent, gratifying. Ling tightened his grasp, and Ed, fully rigid, gripped the back of Ling’s neck, gritting his teeth to keep himself silent. He pressed back against him with hardly the thought to do so, and he couldn’t help a faint groan to feel the subtle, involuntary motion of Ling’s hips to meet him. Ling, it seemed, couldn’t keep entirely quiet either.
He didn’t know what any of this really meant. Had they the freedom to do anything right now, Ed couldn’t guess how far they could go. For now, he was entirely consumed by the present, and by its potential, whatever that was.
Ling slipped his thumb higher, to the tip of him, rubbing easily over its sensitivity, and Ed, tight-lipped, clawed at the back of Ling’s neck. He found where his hair was pulled back and gripped it tightly. Tipping his head back, he panted roughly until Ling swallowed his breathing, slipping his tongue into his mouth just as his hand returned to the base of him. He brought Ed arching onto the balls of his feet in shameless repetition, and Ed was lost to it, seeking his skillful touch wherever it led him.
He was fairly certain his automail was bruising the hell out of Ling’s hip, but he couldn’t care less what his body was doing by now. He thrust erratically toward Ling’s grip, his back straining to return him to the feel of Ling’s arousal between each movement. Fleetingly, he thought of freeing him, too, and what he would feel like in his hand, but suddenly Ed knew he lacked the capacity for that.
It hadn’t taken much. In the back of his mind, Ed knew that, but they also didn’t have time for more. He pulled from Ling’s kiss, gasping, trembling against him in the final moment before he felt Ling’s hand move from his chest to his mouth. He covered it, stifling the sound as Ed finally convulsed, feeling as though the world must be ending in glory for a split second that felt like forever.
Reality descended more swiftly than it had left him.
Ling still held him, supporting him, really. His mouth rested against Ed’s neck, and his hand dropped from his mouth to settle over Ed’s chest, Ed’s heart beating hard beneath it, but slowing.
Ed forced his automail to relax, and he drew his other hand from Ling’s hair, accidentally taking with it the tie that held it back. His breath was approaching normal, and he felt confident enough in his voice by the time he turned, handing the scrap of white material back to him with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
Ed’s eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to study, for a moment, the way Ling’s hair fell straight, down past his shoulders. But they’d also adjusted enough, he realized, to catch Ling’s expression.
He turned away quickly, carefully zipping his pants and forcing his belt to fasten properly. But Ling’s voice made it impossible to forget the tragic wanting Ed had caught in his eyes.
“He may use me now, but I vow to you, as I vow to my people, that I will triumph. Do you believe me?”
Ed turned back, a half step that nevertheless brought Ling into view again. “You’re just gonna have to show me.”
Ling smiled, laughing shortly, quietly. He understood.
Ed nodded with some weak finality before he turned back, pulling out the tie in his hair too to fix it. The last thing he needed was one of the others suspecting anything. He couldn’t explain this to himself let alone anyone else. And he shouldn’t have to.
He turned around again to find his companion stepping toward the window, where the light from the night sky was strong enough to illuminate the change in his friend’s face. As he leaned carelessly against the window frame, his eyes were more pensive and despondent than Ed had ever seen them, but they were violet nonetheless.
Greed took a corner of the ragged curtain at his side to wipe off his hand without even a hint of the disgust Ed would have expected.
“Didn’t even get him off, huh?”
Ed’s blood shot to boiling again, but he wasn’t about to give Greed the satisfaction. He turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, resisting the urge to make as much noise as possible on the way.
Just before he started down, he felt Greed’s hand close on his arm, stopping him. Ready to fight, Ed spun around to glare at him, but Greed didn’t meet his eyes.
Instead, after a moment, he released him.
Ed shrugged him off, his attention lingering uneasily even as he started his descent. But the uneven stairs wouldn’t humor his curiosity for very long, and eventually he faced forward, returning to the room below. Greed soon joined him, but only as the others finally returned, his hair drawn back as usual.