Rating: NC-17 NB: rimming
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Notes: Somewhat less fluffy than my usual stuff. This was hard.
(I keep editing after posting, mostly corrections and formatting stuff.)
They met in a dark, damp hall, part of the house long since neglected. Who knows where they were heading? Their meeting was purely accidental, they had never sought out one another, hardly knew each other, one because he didn't care to know, the other because he didn't remember. Late autumn light sluggishly drifted through the high windows. They moved through the space, passing, turning to look and /saw/ each other truly for the first time. They stopped, destinations forgotten in the moment, aware of something happening between them.
"I'm sorry," Hohenheim told the dark-haired creature. "I'm terribly sorry."
He looked the blond man up and down, slowly, the already familiar sense of desire coursing through him. The words didn't mean anything, he felt great. Vague memories of weakness and decay were all but dissolving in his new-found strength. He felt this life singing in his veins, energy sparkling on his skin. He was ready for anything. He smiled at the man, showing disconcertingly sharp teeth, shook his short, dark hair.
"What are you saying? Do you not like what you see?"
Hohenheim watched the artificially created being and, not for the first time but with a certain urgency that had been lacking before, realised things had gone from bad to worse. He had understood the despair the first time, the devastating sense of loss, but this was the result of insanity, intoxication with power and he wanted nothing to do with it. It had not been grief that had driven her this time. She had wanted the power that would be hers to control and it was all too easy to contemplate she might have had this in mind from the moment she had laid eyes on the unfortunate young man.
"You are quite good-looking, as well you know," a few choice words, such a small thing to give.
He had reluctantly pursued the current course, considering it an unfortunate, necessary step towards a better future. What was being done now was unwise, needless waste and grief wholly unconnected to the one true aim. It might be time to cut his losses, cold though that might be. He didn't want anything to do with this and truth be told, whatever he might have felt for her had died, possibly with the boy, but certainly not long after.
"Yes, it is true," the brunet put a hand on his chest in an exaggerated gesture, showing the red mark on the back of it. "And so are you. I want you."
Determination descended on him, he wanted to destroy what had been wrought. How to accomplish such a goal? It wouldn't be easy, the balance of power had shifted significantly. She was as powerful an alchemist as he himself with none of the scruples he so very recently had acquired - the boy on his deathbed, the inevitability of what was going to happen and his lack of action. He felt sorrow for that soulless creature, not truly alive, no longer loved, at best appreciated for its usefulness. She might surround herself with an army of the creatures, possibly to sustain the unsatisfying method they had so far established while he wished to continue searching. This could not be the end, it was /not/ worth it, living like this and was there really anything left worth preserving?
"You are greedy. I do not know that it is really me you want at all." He stood quietly, apparently inviting by not outright refusing, since the homunculus came to stand very close and a persistent hand ran over his arm while the other rested on the small of his back. He was slightly taller, just an inch or so, just enough to have to bend his head to look into the vibrant purple eyes.
He allowed the pale creature to handle him, to touch his face. He could feel the strength in the slender fingers, the cool of the body with the burning craving behind it. He had noticed, with the serene detachment he had once prided himself on, now hollow and sad, the form in which the new-born beings were poured seemed to strip them of everything human but one all-consuming quality, a geas that defined their every action. The oppressive jealousy of the boy and with this one, an all consuming /want/ for the whole world and everything in it.
The lean body pressed against his, oblivious of its owner's lack of response or perhaps supplying that response in its own head. He actually felt something akin to pity, unpleasant feeling, churning in his throat. He would not deny this unlucky being, this child, he would give in to it and hopefully quell the urgency for a while.
It was a spur of the moment decision, so unlike him, but he was never slow to see opportunity. Simple division, if it could be arranged through this act the price was acceptable. The creature, no, do not think of /him/ like that, counterproductive, obviously desired him. Desired everything yet was given nothing. Let him have this, let him have what he wishes and let it be the way to weaken the hold she has on him.
She had driven him to his death, encouraged him to ruin his health. He had loved, blind. Nothing of that was left, it had been /murdered/, let it be called by its true name. Now that his conscience has stirred, slow and sleepy, it was persistent, it didn't like this, but really, it didn't have a brilliant alternative. He was alone, up against an a-moral, quite powerful entity. He needed time, distance, space. Space to remember himself, to reformulate who he was and where he stood. He had this body, beautiful, strong and golden, why not use it for a cause for once?
"I want you," his suitor whispered, long fingers stroking the other man's body with a sense of urgency. Dark hair tickling his ear, followed by a determined tongue. More and more and never enough.
"You can have me," he sounded more like a reassuring father than an eager lover. It worried him, he could barely remember the last time he had experienced true passion. The brunet didn't seem to notice, or care and ran cool hands over his body. Such a fine body, strong and lean, responding perfectly with goose-bumps and hard nipples, a stirring erection. He returned the kisses with a conscious effort to please.
His desire was insatiable, and could never be truly fulfilled, this he already knew. So, he would take whatever he could get in order to compensate, to feel some semblance to satiation at least. If /she/ chose to be aloof, distant, unyielding, /he/ was right here, friendly, somewhat condescending, true, but giving, satisfying some of the hunger that gnawed him all the time. His kisses grew more urgent, demanding, he had to concentrate on not damaging what was now /his/. His caresses grew more urgent, he wanted to feel more, it was as if his need only now truly awakened. Hohenheim tried to accommodate him by yielding gracefully but it wasn't enough. He took off the man's glasses, they were a barrier, and tossed them aside.
They half sank, half fell to the hard-stone floor, too preoccupied to care about their surroundings. He ripped the blond man's pants in his eagerness. His own clothes disappeared, sank into his own body because he wanted them to, the bizarre power of it elating, he looked up to the other man's face and grinned at him.
"Calm yourself a little," the blond admonished, reaching out and gently stroking his hair, and, fuck, he now badly wanted to shatter that calm, it grated to still see this much control. He lowered himself to lap at the fully hardened dick and that didn't really change anything but the slightest increase in breath. He snorted indignantly, turned the body around in one fluid movement with his strong hands and impatience. This at least brought a gasp and he set his tongue to work again, licking balls and tracing up the cleft until he came to the anus. Every tiny shiver of muscle in response delighted him, thrilled in him.
He let his tongue roam, exploring texture and taste, pushing and prodding. Everything was new, everything was worth researching, worth having. The blond now definitely responded, panted and arched and his heart beat faster and faster. This was very good and he felt his own cock stir for the first time. Here was a sensation completely worthwhile, his need to possess flared, his tongue /hardened/ and he pushed it inside as far as it could go. Hohenheim stiffened, gasped and grunted, the shock trembled through him. He loved this, this was what he desired, the body in his hands, responding to his ministrations. He licked and sucked until the throbbing of his own erection could no longer be ignored. He flung his head back with a snarl, lined up and pressed in hard, causing the blond man to yelp.
It was a good thing, he managed to formulate through the overwhelming sensations that flooded his rational mind, these feelings of arousal and more than a little pain were this distracting, otherwise he might dwell on the utter humiliation of being forced on elbows and knees and /handled/. His own weeping erection was flat out ignored. He leaned sideways to free up a hand and take care of himself but he hardly managed to touch his cock when his hand was slapped away with a hiss of "mine!" At least the issue was now brought to attention, his lover stroked his cock with slow, hard moves which focused his mind completely. He breathed hard, then moaned as sparks went up his spine, again and again until his world went white and he came hard.
He could go on forever, he felt the truth of that but it would really hurt /him/ and that wouldn't do, since the blond was now /his/. He let himself come, and it was mind-blowing, both the release and the knowledge he could direct his body like that, opened his mind to a million possibilities.
They separated, got up. Hohenheim retrieved his glasses and looked sadly at the mess he had become. The brunet looked pristine, dressed and collected once again, with his arms folded over his chest. He pulled up his pants, fastened them, removed the tie from his skewed ponytail.
"I'm leaving tonight," he announced.
"Like hell," the creature said. "You are mine, you're staying with me."
He looked at him thoughtfully.
"As long as you are hers, I can never be yours," he walked away and didn't look back. He wasn't followed, maybe it had been enough, hopefully just a tiny crack might serve as the seed of destruction.