velvet mace


chapter 7.

Al taped the array to the back of a painting, activated it with a bit of power, and then hung it up. It didn't matter where the array was put, so long as it touched an outside wall. It would detect anyone going in or out of the house through any portal other than the door and raise quite a loud alarm. There would be no escaping this house.

He stood back a moment and looked at the painting. It was a portrait. Maybe someone's aunt or grandmother, or something. Maybe it was just a random person, and the owner of the house had put it up because he preferred to look at faces rather than landscapes. Al didn't know. Whoever had lived in this large farm house this morning wasn't living there now. Al hoped that Greed had bought or rented the property, but it was possible that somewhere out in the acres of nothing that surrounded the building was an area of fresh turned earth.

If that was the case—well, Greed knew best. If it was what the family needed, then it had to be done. Family comes first.

Al stepped back to the cardboard box and picked up another piece of parchment with yet another array. "Hand me the next picture," he said to Ed.

Ed carried another painting over, hissing as he went. Al sympathized. Moving about wasn't his favorite activity right now either. He snorted. One of us is sore on the outside, one of us is sore on the inside. We compliment each other.

"I think this is the last one," said Al.

"No, " said Ed. "We need to do one on the cellar door."

Al half expected Ed to mess up on the arrays, leaving loopholes that he could exploit to run away again, but if anything Ed was being more thorough than Al. It was as if Ed took pride in making their new temporary home as secure as possible. Or maybe Ed had finally, truly come to see the light.

There was no home other than Greed's. Greed was family. Greed was contentment. Greed was love. They would never be happy anywhere else. This was where they fit. Al told himself this every morning when he woke up and every evening before he went to sleep, and a few times in between whenever he felt darker thoughts creeping in. As always, the mantra lifted his heart and made everything seem better.

He wished that Ed would say that mantra, too. Maybe then he wouldn't get so upset when he looked out the window. It hurt to see Ed so discontent. It would be better if he could just see things Al's way, but brother was so determined and wouldn't listen. Well, hopefully now he would.

How many more people would have to suffer before Ed just learned to be content in life and stop questioning the way the universe worked?

For Al, one person was enough.

Al couldn't even remember his name anymore. He'd been a client and friend of Greed's, coming to dinner every few weeks, playing chess and cards, regaling them with his war exploits. When Greed wasn't around, he would express sympathy for Al and Ed. That sympathy turned into conspiracy, and finally one night they had pulled it off. Instead of driving Ed and Al home from a play, the client had turned a different direction and had kept going.

It had seemed marvelous at the time. Al remembered how his traitorous heart had beat with excitement. How they'd laughed and made up jokes about Greed. Even the food at the seedy restaurants they stopped in tasted magically good. The client told them about his cousin who lived in Drachma, who owned a farm, with cows and geese, where Al and Ed could stay until they were ready to seek their own fortune.

They'd eaten fresh tomatoes and baguettes stuffed with cheese for dinner and settled into the beds of yet another non-descript hotel room. Al remembered smelling lilies. Then he closed his eyes on his last moments of freedom.

In the middle of the night, Al had woken to the sound of Ed's scream. He had sat up in bed only to be grabbed by Martel. Sloth was on the client and Greed on Ed. Al had protested and cried until Martel gave him a shot. After that, the world turned sideways and then went dark.

When he woke again, he was chained to Ed in a basement. It was not a room he'd ever been in before, or would ever be in again. The client was chained in a separate corner. When Greed realized Al was awake, he freed the client and invited him to fight for his freedom.

It was a ridiculously unmatched battle. When the client threw up his hands and begged for mercy, Greed began the torture, taking a pinchs of the clients flesh and cutting them off with a sharp knife. The first day of this, the client had begged and pleaded. Then he cursed Al and Ed and blamed them for his misfortune. By the time Greed stopped, he was reduced to moaning.

The moaning was low and slow and rhythmic, like the sound of a distant foghorn. It lasted all night, never varying. It didn't even change when Greed resumed the destruction the next day. The client didn't sleep the second night, and neither could Al or Ed. On the third day of the torture, the monotonous moans finally stopped.

Al had never thought he could be so grateful to witness a death. It was one of the happiest moments of his life. In that giddy moment he'd laughed and the universe had fallen into place. He understood the folly of their escape, and recognized the depth of Greed's love for them. He'd vowed to himself that he would never run away again.

That's when he began saying his mantra, and let peace take his heart.

Even after the client stopped moaning, Greed went on until the only recognizable thing left was his face, which Greed hadn't touched. Greed then left the body in the room with them another night, but to Al it was not a person anymore, and he slept well.

The next day, he and Ed had stuffed the body and it's pieces into a canvas sack, and then scrubbed the blood off the floor. When they finished with their chores, Greed had walked them to the car and had driven them home. Never once did any of them discuss what had happened. Even Greed, who was prone to lecture, figured that the actions spoke loud enough.

How Ed had managed to miss the point was beyond Al.

They carried the box of arrays to the basement and suddenly Al couldn't walk any further. "I don't think I can take it again," he said.

Ed looked at Al, then at the basement wall. Even though this room was nothing like that other one, the memories were thick. Ed wrapped his arms around Al. "This time is different," he said. "It's not the same at all."

"No, it's worse. We took away Greed's home. Our home. I should have turned you in the first time you went out. I knew it was a bad idea."

"It's my fault," said Ed. "Not yours. You aren't responsible."

"YES I AM!" said Al. "I'm completely responsible. I had it in my power to stop you and I didn't. Greed is right, I am just as guilty as you are. I deserve whatever he does to me." Al pulled away and crouched down on the dusty floor, his arms hugging his knees.

"We couldn't have known they were only going to send one man. How could we know that? It's not like before. Roy isn't like—" Even Ed couldn't bear to say the client's name. "We aren't in the basement this time," said Ed at last.

This was true, their room was in the attic. A small room with two beds under a steeply pitched roof. They had already tacked up the array that would sound an alarm if they used alchemy, and even now Martel was modifying the door to install the deadbolt.

Ed pushed the box over to steeply canted storm door and began installing a deadly array. Al watched him.

Ed went on. "Roy isn't like him. He's smarter and more attractive. He's talented and refined." Ed heaved a breath. "But even if Greed does want to—even if it comes to that. If it ever gets like that again— I'll—" His voice petered out.

Al tightened his grip on his knees and waited.

It took almost a minute, but Ed finally completed his sentence. "It won't last longer than one night, I promise you."

When the last array was placed, Law walked them up to their room. As usual, he said nothing to them. Law wasn't much of a talker in the first place, and when he knew they were being punished, he tended to be even more distant. Al understood. What Greed wanted came first—always. If Greed was mad, then Law would be so, too.

They heard the deadbolt slide shut and relaxed.

"Two beds," said Ed. "Strange."

Al was similarly puzzled. Even though Greed's house was large and they COULD have had their own rooms, Greed had insisted from the very beginning they share not only a room but a bed. At first it seemed strange, since the rooms weren't particularly cold in winter. Later they realized why and were both puzzled and embarrassed.

Such things were not done. Even at 10, Al knew that. It was sinful.

But in Greed's house sin was defined a bit differently. Sin was refusing to do what Greed wanted. And for whatever unfathomable reason he had, he wanted them to be lovers as well as brothers.

What did the second bed mean?

The answer became apparent an hour later when the door opened and Greed walked into the room with a large duffle casually slung over his shoulder. He let it drop on the second bed. "Al, Ed, help me secure him." Greed pulled open the cord at the top of the bag and pushed it down to reveal a very groggy looking Roy.

Al swallowed. Roy's arms were bound behind his back with heavy leather restraints. He recognized them from Greed's toy chest. Roy's eyes were half lidded. He made an incoherent moaning sound when Greed grabbed the strap of his tank top and shredded it with one talon. Roy jerked his head a bit when the other shoulder strap tore, and gave a half-hearted kick as Greed ripped the front of his shirt in two. Greed tore the pants off from the legs up, even though he could have simply pulled them off. It seemed like he was making a point of some sort. Perhaps that clothes would no longer be needed, and there was no point in preserving them.

Al had to admit he was fascinated. So this was the guy that Ed had said was gentle and a good kisser. He was attractive in a mature way, pale and thin, with a wiry musculature. For a man, he didn't have much hair. A tuft around his sex that pointed towards his belly button, but other than that his torso was smooth. His nipples were brown, small and slightly oval.

He was, Al recognized with hope, Greed's type. Greed could be ruthless, but he rarely gave up things that he found desirable. If only Greed desired Roy instead of hated him, there was hope that Al wouldn't have to witness his death.

It would be a project, though. Even as drugged as he obviously was, he was fighting. Pushing away from Greed's hands with languid, futile squirms. Al remembered the man's smooth confidence, the almost arrogant way he'd watched them all during their meals, as though he had some moral high ground on the rest of them. This would be quite a blow to his ego.

Greed didn't like it when people fought him. He liked to be complimented and fawned upon. Even when Greed took Al roughly, he knew better than to suggest that the sex had been anything but wonderful. Because when Greed was happy, everyone was happy, and when Greed wasn't happy, there simply was no telling what might happen next.

"I need some chain," said Greed, throwing the last shreds of the man's boxers onto the ground. "Stay there." Greed strode out of the room leaving Ed and Al alone with Roy.

Roy squirmed again. He looked their direction and blinked hard. "Help me," he said. "Take—" Then he groaned and rolled over onto his side. "My arms, take it off."

Ed's face was completely blank. "I can't do that, Roy. There is no point in running."

Al felt a bit reassured. "Brother is right. You'll just get caught and it will be worse for you."

Roy seemed to be trying to focus on him, but not quite succeeding. "It can't get worse."

Al thought of the client and the moans. "Yes, it can."

"I'd rather die," said Roy thickly.

"No you wouldn't," said Al. This would be very hard. He looked over at Ed, but Ed wasn't even looking at Roy anymore. Brother was kneeling on his bed with his face in his hand. Al sighed, it looked like it would be up to him to save Roy from himself.

"I'll take care of you. I'll tell you what to do."

Roy again tried to look at him, but failed.

"You might as well go back to sleep. If you are too lively, Greed will just start in on you as soon as he gets back."

Roy suddenly seemed more alert. He nodded and then relaxed. That was good. Al didn't want to get a foot in his face when he helped restrain the man.

Greed was back within a few minutes. "Ed, disable the alarm for a moment. Al, do something with this please."

Al understood. Roy wouldn't be leaving the room, not until Greed had secured the next safehouse and they all left. Ed disabled the alarm that prevented them from using alchemy. Al took the chalk that Greed offered and drew an array on the floorboards. In a moment one end of the chain was buried snugly into the wood while the other hugged Roy's ankle with a lockless cuff. Only alchemy or a good saw would get Roy free.

Ed heaved a sigh, and Al nodded. It was good that Greed was so thorough. It removed temptation. It was much easier to tell Roy that they COULDN'T help him than it would be to tell him that they WOULDN'T.

Greed tested the chain and found it satisfactory. He then noted Roy's closed eyes and lax posture. It was, Al noted with some appreciation, a pretty good act. Roy didn't even flinch when Greed ran a hand down his naked belly to his cock. "He is your responsibility, Ed, Al. From now on, you will need to make sure he gets his needs met.

"Yes, sir," Ed and Al chorused in unison.

When the door closed, Roy didn't stir. Perhaps it wasn't an act after all and Roy had passed out.

Ed looked over at Al. "It's late. Shall we just put out the light?"

"Might as well." Al wasn't in the mood for sex, and he suspected neither was Ed.

Al stripped off his clothes while Ed flipped the switch. He scooted over until he was near the wall. Then felt his brother slide in behind him, spooning him. The automail was cool and hard, but Al was used to it, and it felt reassuring. The warmth of the rest of his body more than made up for it.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Al was startled awake by a moan.

For a second it seemed eerily like THAT moan, the one from a year before, and Al shivered. But then it came again, this time higher pitched and breathier, followed by a "What the hell?"

Al pulled free of Ed's arm. As usual, Ed didn't even move. When Ed slept he slept like the dead. Al shrugged free of the blanket and scooted down to the end of the mattress and then off. "Do you need anything Roy?"


"No, it's Al."

"Al—" Al remembered a lamp on the end table and fumbled his way to it. He flipped the switch and blinked as the room was filled with a warm amber glow. Ed grunted.

Roy squirmed until he was able to get himself into a sitting position on the end of the bed. "Al, quick, free my hands."

Al walked over to the end of Roy's bed. "I can't do that."

The man looked at him with fierce eyes. "Please."

"No, Roy, I really can't do that. Please, let us help you."

"You want to help me, free me." Roy's words were a bit louder.

"Shhhh," said Al. "Unless you want Greed to know you're awake."

Roy stiffened and looked at the door with horror.

"Would you like some water?"

Roy licked his lips. "Yes."

Al went to the pitcher and poured a glass half full. He then walked back over to the bound man and sat next to him, pressing the cup against his lips. Roy pulled his head away. "Undo my hands."

"I already told you I can't." Al proffered the cup again. "It's important that you don't make Greed any angrier than he already is."

"This is—" Roy searched for a word.

"Degrading," Al offered sympathetically. "I think it's meant to be. Are you thirsty?"

"No." Roy pressed his lips together. He was probably lying, but maybe the only reason for wanting water was to convince Al to free him. Al reached up a curious hand and touched his hair. It was very thick, almost wiry. Different from Greed's or his brother's. Roy jerked his head away. "Don't do that."

Greed was going to do a whole lot worse than touch his hair in a few hours. Right now, Roy was giving off every sign that he planned to make it as big an ordeal as absolutely possible. That would be bad. Greed disliked defiance, and took outward signs misery as a personal blow to his ego. One was supposed to appreciate being touched by him, crave it, and thank him afterwards. Anything short of that could trigger viciousness. It was one of the first lessons Ed and Al learned in Greed's bed.

"Let me help you, Roy," said Al a bit more urgently. "I can't free you, but I can make this a bit more bearable for you, if you'll let me."

Roy's shoulders heaved. "And how can you do that. He wants to—rape me." The man paused as if the idea was so foreign he could barely wrap his mind around it.

Al laughed a little. "Of course, he does. If you make him happy enough, that's all he'll do."

"I'd rather be tortured."

"Have you ever been tortured?" asked Al.

Roy's silence spoke volumes.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. I don't want you to be tortured. Sex isn't so bad, you get used to it. But torture, you don't get over that— and don't think that the two are mutually exclusive, either. If you make it too awful, Greed might sic Sloth on you."

Roy laughed. "Ah, a choice between a beautiful woman or a man with razor sharp teeth."

Al was aghast. Roy had no clue whatsoever. Al's bottom, which had been mostly complacent until now, suddenly gave out a sharp cry of protest. Abruptly, Al made up his mind.

He got up and walked over to a cardboard box tucked in a corner. Greed had odd priorities. They had been allowed to bring only one spare change of clothes, but apparently the entire arsenal of toys had made the trip. Al suspected that they wouldn't be leaving the house much. In any case, what Al needed was there, in generous supply.

"I'm not going to watch you get tortured," whispered Al. "And I'm not going to let your ego get in the way of saving your life. I've been here for years. I know what Greed is like, what he's capable of. I know his weaknesses."

Roy wasn't watching him; he was too caught up in trying to free himself from the leather straps that held his wrists.

"Roy, have you ever given a blow job before?" asked Al, quietly.

Roy looked over at him. "A few times—it's been a while."

"How long?"

"Seven, maybe eight years."

"Hmmm," Al eyed him critically. "That's okay, he probably won't trust you enough for that anyway. At least not tonight. I'll give you a few pointers tomorrow. You'll probably want them."

"I don't think so," Roy's voice was deadly calm. "There is no way I'm going to take him in my mouth."

Al sighed. Roy was being stupid, but it wouldn't pay to say that. "You'll think differently tomorrow. Tomorrow you'll beg him to use your mouth instead." I'm just scaring him. Great. Al sighed. "Have you ever taken it in the ass?"


Well there was something.

"Once. I didn't like it."

No. That was no good. "How long ago was that?"

"Seven or eight years."

He might as well be a virgin, thought Al. "My brother seemed to think you knew what you were doing."

Roy laughed. "Well, I've done the taking a lot more often than that. It just wasn't my thing to—you know—be taken."

"Well, it's about to become your thing. Listen, Roy, I know how bad this is for you, I know better than you do. Please, trust me on this, I'm not doing this because I want to hurt you."

For the first time Roy noticed what was in his hands. "No."

"It's for your own good." Al pushed him sideways. Roy stretched out his legs to counterbalance, but he couldn't. Ordinarily, Al suspected that he wouldn't be able to overpower Roy, but with the man's hands behind his back, he had lost a lot of leverage. Still , it was something of a struggle to get him into a position Al could work with. Roy did absolutely nothing to cooperate. At last he was on his side, with Al seated cross-legged by the small of his back. It wasn't great, but it would do.

Al spilled the fluid over his fingers, then stroked Roy's cock a few times. Roy remained steadfastly limp. "It helps if you concentrate on the idea of it feeling good," said Al.

"How old are you, Al? Fourteen. You shouldn't even be having sex at your age. I know you are na´ve and Greed has filled your head will all sorts of unhealthy notions, but even you should know enough not to rape people."

Boy, the man was bound and determined to make this as awful as possible wasn't he? Al wasn't sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. "I'm saving your life, Roy. And I'm not going to listen to you if you insult me. You are the na´ve one."

"Here's the deal: You have to act like you like this, even if you don't. I've seen you act, I know you can pull it off if you put your head to it."

"Why on earth would I want to pretend I like this?"

"Because then Greed may decide not to cut off your fingers."

Roy hissed. Apparently the idea of being maimed had not occurred to him. Al took that moment and began rubbing the muscle, but Roy wasn't loosening. Al, began slipping a finger in, careful to make sure that it was generously lubed. Roy jerked and hissed again.

"Okay, we'll stop here for a bit. Relax." Al was patient and waited—waited a lot longer than Greed would have. Eventually, Roy seemed to get the idea that the finger wasn't going anywhere until he complied. When Al felt the grip loosen a bit, he began rubbing slowly out and in.

Roy tried to squirm away. Al gave his buttock a light slap and Roy froze with surprise. "What's the point of that, Roy? You think you can wiggle your way out of this? Be a man."

That last comment seemed to hit home. Al heard a growl, but Roy calmed down. "Better. Concentrate on relaxing." Al reached his other hand forward and began rubbing the man's cock again. Roy tightened momentarily, then Al heard him suck in a deep breath and he relaxed again. "Yes, pretend this is what you want, even though it isn't. Make up a story in your head about this being some adventure, and sell it to yourself. It's gonna happen anyway, and you don't get points for making it more painful than it has to be. Trust me, no one will think less of you if you just give in."

That seemed to be helping. Roy's breathing was deeper and slower. It was time to expand. Al relubed his hand and slid two in this time. Al could see Roy's hands balling into fists and felt him clamp down again. "Relax." Al waited. It seemed like forever, Greed would have been long bored by now. Al gave Roy another slap to his butt. Oddly enough, that did the trick. Roy relaxed.

"Stop hitting me," said Roy.

"Start doing what I tell you to."

Al started rubbing again outside and inside with the same slow movement, making sure to hit the prostate with each stroke. Roy was finally starting to react. "That's much better," Al said approvingly. "Good man." When Al deemed him loose enough with two he moved to three.

It was too soon, Roy hissed again and wiggled away. Al spanked him a bit harder and Roy stopped again. Al grinned. This was actually a bit fun. Al was getting turned on by the whole torturously slow exercise. Well, the next logical step, of course, was to give Roy something of the correct shape, if not quite the size, he'd be facing in the morning.

"Okay, Roy, " said Al after a while. "We need to change positions a bit. Are you going to cooperate?"

"I think you've done enough for me."

Al slapped him again, harder.

"CUT IT OUT!" said Roy.

They both froze. It was too late. Al grabbed the lube and placed it on the nightstand, and then went back to sit on his own bed. "I guess you are ready for the real thing."

Roy was breathing harshly.

Soon enough they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps out side the door. The bolt slid and Greed entered. "I thought I heard your voice. Woke up? Is Al bothering you?"

Roy struggled to free his arms again.

Greed grabbed his hair and pulled up. "You look awfully awake."

Roy winced. Greed's hands stroked his throat, then over his shoulders and down his back. They paused on his buttocks, sensing wetness. "Oh, ho—" Greed grinned and looked over at Al. "Started in already have you?"

"Yes, sir," said Al looking at the floor.

"I didn't say that you could, my love."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"That's ok, I fully intend on sharing this prize with the entire family." Greed let go of Roy's hair and gave his face a light slap. "Was he any good?"

"I didn't get that far, "said Al. "We only just started. He objected."

Greed stroked Roy's hair again. "Roy, Roy. You don't get to object." He gave the man not so playful slap to the back of his head. "If Al wants you, Al gets you." Greed pushed him over onto his stomach. "Al, wake your brother, then you can start."

Well, this wasn't quite what Al had in mind, but it would work. He gave Ed a hard push and got a vague groggy grunt. "Ed if you don't wake up, Greed is going to spank you again."

Ed's eyes flew open and he rolled over. "What time is it?"

"Apparently your brother is jealous of your good luck last night. He wants to try Roy for himself."

Ed looked at Al quizzically. Al shrugged. He was still a bit turned on, though not as horny as a minute ago. Being under pressure to perform was a bit daunting. Still, it didn't take more than a few strokes with his hand before his cock remembered what it had been promised.

The position Greed put Roy in prevented Al from stroking the man. It didn't matter, Roy wasn't going to pretend he liked it anyway. At least when it reached Greed's turn Roy would be fully stretched.

"Go ahead Al," said Greed. "I'm waiting."

Al lowered himself, lined himself up and pressed in. Oh, my—tight. A lot tighter than Ed, and it stayed tight. Al began to thrust, telling himself to go slow and give Roy time to adjust, but it was difficult. His muscles seemed to have their own idea as for pacing, and it was a lot faster. No. Slow. Slow. Slow. Greed couldn't have come up with a more decadent torture, thought Al. Roy should appreciate this favor.

Roy was squirming under him. Without thinking, Al slapped Roy's thigh, and like a miracle, the man stopped again.

Greed chuckled.

"Just get it over with," said Roy roughly.

Al's stomach burned. Well, I'm not going to argue with that, thought Al angrily. If he was going to be this way, he deserved what he got. Al thrust in more enthusiastically, and Roy responded with a half swallowed groan and tightened back up. Al didn't let up. The only way Roy was going to learn was the hard way. Maybe he'd cooperate more tomorrow, once he faced the reality of what being fucked with the wrong attitude would bring.

Al came quick and blindingly hard. Pleasure seemed to sweep over every part of his body in long spiky waves. As always, he felt his cheeks growing wet. He hated that, but he couldn't seem to stop it. It was difficult not to sob after coming, but he bit it back and soothed the trembling.

Greed grabbed his shoulder, and gave Al a quick kiss on the cheek. 'There, was that revenge sweet?"

Al nodded. It hadn't been revenge, but if Greed wanted to think that, he would let him. "Go to your brother, it's my turn."

Roy growled. "What a fucked up little family you have here, Greed. Turning little boys into rapists. How do you sleep with that at night?"

Greed petted Roy's back. "Are you trying to guilt me?" Greed laughed. "I sleep very well. It pleases me that my family doesn't suffer from the same nonsensical hang-ups as you do. Honestly, Roy. Pleasure is pleasure, why should one source be more forbidden than any other? Your body is more than capable of taking what my ward gave you. Why should I deny him what he wants?"

"Do you even understand the concept of rape?"

"I understand that sometimes people don't recognize a good thing when they see it." Greed pulled down his pajama bottoms quickly, freeing a sizable erection. Al noticed Roy turning his head away, as though perhaps he could deny the situation by simply not looking at it.

"I'm not going to get into a philosophical argument tonight. It's very late, I'm tired, and because of you, I haven't had my fill." Greed climbed into bed with Roy. Roy pushed with his feet and tried to scoot himself off. Greed grabbed his hand and held him in place, pushing his way between Roy's knees with languid ease. "Usually, I take two or three people a night, but because of you, my chimeras are tired, Sloth is elsewhere, my wards are both under the weather, and my whores are ninety miles south of us. You know who that leaves to relieve me?" Greed licked the back of Roy's neck. "You."

Roy attempted to kick him, but the position made it awkward and his foot didn't connect.

Greed drew a line across Roy's shoulder blade. A thin line of red welled up in its wake. Greed licked it, decadently. "It doesn't matter to me if you think of this as rape, or an opportunity for pleasure. But if you fight me, I'm going to hurt you. The more you fight, the more you'll hurt. Do you understand?"

Roy flipped his head back around and Al saw that he was gritting his teeth. Al looked at the floor. He startled a bit when he felt Ed's hand on his. Al looked up again. Greed wanted them to watch, that meant watching.

"Do you want lube, or would it suit your masculine ego more to take me dry?" Greed smiled. "You see, I do give you choices."

Please, pick lube, thought Al.

"Lube," said Roy, biting the word. Al quickly fetched it and put it in Greed's hands. While Greed was preparing himself, Al took a risk. He knelt briefly by the head of the bed and bent down to Roy's ear. "Pretend," he whispered, quickly. He masked the words with kiss.

"Feeling sentimental towards him already," said Greed amused.

"I like him," said Al.

"Yes, he is pretty. What a shame, Roy. What a shame you weren't a buyer." Greed wrapped an arm around Roy's waist and hoisted him up. He rubbed the end of his cock against the hole, then pushed in.

Roy cried out in obvious pain. Greed's expression grew grim. "Yesterday, when I came to get you for breakfast and saw you lying under the sheet, so beautiful. Oh, how I wanted to press you into the mattress right then and there, take you hard and leave you gasping for more, but I restrained myself because I was going to make you family. I was going to take it slow and smooth with you. You'd have felt nothing but pleasure at my hands."

Greed was anything but slow and smooth. Al winced with each slap of Greed's groin against Roy's upturned bottom. He had taken up a ragged rhythm, mixing long and short strokes in a random way.

"But you aren't family. And that means I can do whatever I like with you. You are nothing to me. Nothing. I can kill you, or keep you. It's up to you, really. You are my whore. My family's whore. Do a good enough job and maybe when we get to Drachma, I will put you out on the corner with the girls. You have a very lovely face, I'm sure you'd have customers. I can let you earn your way back to being family—if you do a really good job."

Roy's brows knit and his teeth clenched, but there was something about his expression that suggested that he finally understood what Al had told him. His eyes met Al's. Al nodded his head, encouragingly.

Roy whispered something.

"What was that?" Greed asked. "Louder."

"Please," said Roy, just a breath louder. "More."

Al felt himself start to relax.

The effect on Greed was dramatic. He reached a hand down and stroked Roy's cock for the first time. "Yes, I see. Is it starting to feel good for you as well? That is very good. I want to watch your face, Roy. I want to see it when you come for me."

Greed pulled out and lifted Roy up until he was kneeling. With his massive strength he was able to turn Roy around to face him. Roy didn't fight. Greed repositioned them both; Greed knelt resting his back against the head board. He lifted Roy up and settled him into his lap, pushing down on Roy's thighs until he was firmly embedded again. Roy threw his head back and sucked in a breath.

"That's good. Let it feel good. Let it fill you just right." Greed lifted Roy and then let him slide back. "You can set the pace a bit, use your thighs."

Roy complied, eyes closed now. Al felt Ed's hand tighten on his. He dared a look at Ed's face, Ed looked relieved. Greed pressed kisses against Roy's exposed neck, up under his ear, over his cheek and at last onto the mouth.

Please kiss him back, thought Al.

Roy kissed back, and, from the look of it, it was amazing. Greed pressed his head towards him, opening his mouth, devouring his lips and tongue, then withdrew. Al recognized the look of desire on Greed's face. This had stopped being a vengeance fuck and had turned into something more. That was very good. Greed surely wouldn't kill someone who could kiss him like that.

Despite Greed's offer to let Roy set the pace, he placed one of his hands back down on Roy's bottom and lifted him, using his own hips and knees to make each stroke harder. Roy let out a weak keening note. Greed's hand slipped between their bellies to stroke Roy's erection. It went on like this for a few minutes, and then Roy's face screwed up and he let out a yell. There was a pause, then Roy's head flopped forward onto Greed's shoulder.

Greed brought both hands down and began moving Roy at a quicker, more violent pace. Then he clutched Roy. The rhythm slowed, stopped, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing in the room.

"You are so beautiful," said Greed. "I want you so badly, Roy. So badly." He sighed. "It is almost worth the embarrassment. If you hadn't come to my house, full of lies and prying eyes, I would have never gotten see your face when I brought you off. I would never have gotten to taste you mouth." Greed stroked the side of Roy's face and neck. Roy didn't move, his ribs expanded in great breaths but he didn't move his forehead from Greed's shoulder. Al couldn't see his expression, but he could guess. Shame. Disgust. He'd felt that himself the first few times. It was best Greed didn't look too close.

Greed lowered Roy to the mattress. Roy's back arched over his bound arms and he turned his head away but it was too late. Greed heaved a sigh of disappointment at the tears.

"You are so beautiful, Roy. It was almost worth it." Greed pushed Roy's knees up and drove in again. "Almost, but not quite."