It wasn't a matter of getting his own way.
It was simply a matter of getting.
Oh, sure, it surprised Greed—he couldn't say that he'd expected it—but he wasn't about to complain.
He really wasn't in the position to complain even if he wanted to—it wouldn't do him a lick o'good, not now, not like this—but he didn't want to, really. What he wanted to do was compliment the bastard, but the last thing he needed to do was make his alchemist even more arrogant.
So he decided instead to just enjoy the ride.
It'd started with a hooker, one of the cheap, easy women that lounged around The Devil's Nest.
Nice figure, with flaring hips and decent breasts—more than a handful was wasted, Greed had heard said, and though he disagreed with the sentiment, breasts that filled his large, grasping hands were generous by anyone's standards, even his own—long blonde hair, and a talented tongue... She was good-looking and good at what she did, Greed knew. A nice little treat, though one he was not in the mood for tonight.
Someone else might enjoy her, though, and voyeurism was always amusing. That is, if the offer was received... Heh. He wasn't sure it would be, but this would be interesting no matter what happened.
It was with this thought in mind that the Sin pulled the whore close to murmur a suggestion in her ear, his tiger's teeth flashing white as he purred, his slitted violet eyes focused on the still form perched at the bar.
Zolf Kimbley kept to himself, quiet and seemingly indifferent to the rest of the patrons of the establishment, perpetually nursing a tumbler of fine malt liquor. Greed hadn't ever seen the human express any interest in any of the women that haunted the Nest, and this behavior was... odd. Cold, and odd. After so many years isolated in prison...
Greed knew that he could just ask—not that he thought for a moment that he'd get a straight answer—but he was feeling... experimental. And so he sent the woman over, leaning back against the wall to watch over the tops of his sunglasses.
The blonde whore didn't know any better; she didn't know what those ink-branded hands were capable of. She leaned into the light touch, smiling at the wolf-eyed alchemist.
He smiled back, lips curving up. It was not an unfriendly expression... not in the least. It was a look the Sin hadn't seen before on his alchemist's face: Kimbley's gaze was focused, a little hungry, softened only by something that might have been called "appreciation" on any other man.
Greed held his breath.
The woman exploded in a spectacular shower of blood and warm, raw meat; ropy strings of intestines splattering against the wall near Greed, shards of bone embedded themselves like daggers in the furniture. The homunculus blinked, his smug smile slipping a few steps.
"That was a waste," he commented idly, pulling his glasses off to wipe a smudge of dark fluid from the lens.
Kimbley unfurled from the barstool, still smiling as he turned to face Greed, his movements slow and languid as a predator stretching. He smoothed a hand over his suit, somehow immaculate though the rest of the room was looked like it had been painted by Jackson Pollock going through a rose period of interior decorating. His eyes, muted yellow like slanted summer sunlight, gleamed as he caught the Sin's gaze and crossed the room to him.
"'Waste'?" he inquired, raising a brow. "Best thing for her, really... " The Crimson Alchemist's hand hit the wall just over Greed's shoulder and he leaned in close, showing his teeth in a display that was half-grin, half-snarl, and all arrogance. "You and your little pets... "
Greed's eyes widened in surprise, and his lips curled back in a matching grin. What was this? The alchemist actually showing some kind of emotion? "What?" he growled back, amused. "Jealous?"
Kimbley laughed softly, running the tips of his fingers through the thick ruff of blood-stained fur around the Sin's neck then down, tracing over broad muscles sheathed in dark fabric before dropping to the tight waistband of leather pants. "You wish." His breath was hot against Greed's neck, the words ending abruptly as teeth closed on skin.
Greed tipped his head to the side, his chest vibrating in a low rumbling purr. Ah. Was this how it was going to be then? Well... that was fine. Just fine. He reached up, greedy hands stretching to grasp slim hips, to pull them to his, thumbs tracing circles over the symmetrical peaks of the human's pelvic bone, close to the hard bulge pushing insistently against the burgundy fabric, but not close enough, teasing.
Kimbley pushed against the flat of the Sin's stomach, shoving him back up against the wall, rounding on him to pin him there, between the building and his alchemical weapons. His other hand left the wall, long tapered fingers threading through Greed's hair, holding him in place for a rough, savage kiss. The alchemist didn't seem to mind shredding his lips against sharp-edged teeth; no, it only seemed to fuel his desire further.
Greed groaned, his hands sliding under the suit-jacket and over the Kimbley's back, clutching the warm, human body close, craving the contact, needing, wanting...
He always wanted; he always took.
He wasn't used to being taken.