Word Count: 2,309
Warnings: Warning: This chapter is nonconsensual and depicts graphic physical and emotional rape.
Summary: Written for a prompt from the kinkmeme where Roy had to watch Ed be tortured.
Author's Note: Finally, I am continuing this! I meant to ages ago, got carried away with something else, and haven't written fanfic in a while. Thanks so much to sink_or_swim for the beta.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story.
The rest of my fics are here.
Previous chapters can be found here.
“I love you.” The words were simple and soft against the shell of his ear, and Ed smiled as he stretched out across Roy’s bed. It was a month before and in that particular moment, the world had been perfect.
“Only ‘cuz I’m naked,” Ed teased, a hiccupped breath marring the words as Roy’s palm slipped down his stomach. It was new, all of it, and Ed was largely subsisting on bravado. He arched up against the gentle pressure of Roy’s fingers, obstinately ignoring the embarrassed flush that bled across his cheeks at his lack of control. Somehow he’d expected the very definition of their relationship to be something frantic and rushed. Four months after a confusing dinner together that may or may not have actually been a date, however, was only just landing them here.
“I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing,” Roy replied, his lips twitching even as he tried to look hurt. Ed rolled his eyes briefly, letting them slip shut as Roy leaned down. Roy’s mouth brushed against his, breath ghosting warmly over his lips as the man whispered, “Not that it hurts.”
All things said and done, it took about three seconds for Ed’s searching hand to find a pillow and shove it in his lover’s face. It was slightly longer before he stopped spluttering long enough to let out an annoyed growl, muttering at Roy, “You’re such a jerk.”
“And yet you’re still here,” Roy pointed out, tossing the pillow out of arm’s reach. For all that his hair was ruffled, his clothes half undone, he still managed to look vaguely composed. Ed could’ve kicked him for it.
Whatever retort Ed meant to give was lost in the warm press of Roy’s mouth over his. He gasped at the contact, and couldn’t even really complain as Roy pressed his advantage, tongue slipping past his parted lips. The open front of Roy’s shirt skimmed Ed’s bare skin, and he reached up almost absently to push it off his companion’s shoulders.
The minutes ticked by, seeping away in the wet slide of lips and tongue along Ed’s jaw and down the column of his throat. The heat of Roy’s body over his was overwhelming, and Ed only distantly noticed the pleasured hum that seeped from his lips as fingertips traced his stomach. They edged along the hollows of his hips, and Ed all but melted against the bedding.
It almost seemed an afterthought when Ed felt Roy’s palms skimming up the insides of his thighs, gently nudging them apart. Still, the implication sat heavy in his belly, and for a moment, Ed froze in hesitation. He swallowed, looking away, reeling at the suggestion. It all seemed like so, so much.
Their breathing was harsh in the quiet of the room, and each second that passed twisted in Ed’s chest. Biting his lip, he steeled himself, trying to kick is legs out a bit. Roy’s fingers curled around his thigh though, holding it still. “Don’t.”
“But I thought you wanted…” Ed trailed off, with no idea how he was meant to finish the sentence. It wasn’t so much that he was entirely averse to the idea, but he’d only recently gotten comfortable with the idea of being this close without layers of clothes between them. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks, but Roy didn’t call him on it.
“I want you to be comfortable. We’re not going to do anything you’re not sure you want.” It was awkward to talk about, and Ed all but dragged the blankets over his face. In the end, he let himself be distracted by warm lips and steady hands. His nerves dissipated in the onslaught of teeth and tongue scraping across his skin, and he came with Roy’s fingers around his cock, his own hands scrabbling at the blankets.
Ed woke to a mouth full of blood, the copper tang coating his tongue and teeth. The stone floor of the prison cell was frigid against his naked skin, and he tried uselessly to curl in on himself. A heavy iron cuff held his arm away from the floor, likely to keep him from transmuting.
As Ed stirred from his uneasy slumber, the pain began to surface. Battered inside and out, each shift of his body hurt in new places, and Ed gritted his teeth as he tried to look down, to survey the damage. The hit to his head throbbed until he could scarcely breathe, the rest of his body littered with cuts and bruises. Blood and… worse things had dried between his thighs and he cringed at the way it stuck as he tried to move. His insides felt shredded, however, and the agony quickly made him forget the mess the guard had left.
It had seemed like a much better idea in theory, this business of getting himself captured. This had not really figured into the plan of breaking Roy out. He wasn’t even sure where Roy was, now.
Roy… Ed squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of dark, horrified eyes fixed on him. The gag had muffled Roy’s shouts, but he’d been there, and Ed’s stomach lurched. He’d pressed his face against the floor, howling in agony as it felt like his insides were being shredded, but the insistent clank of metal as Roy fought his bindings wouldn’t let Ed forget his audience.
It was humiliating, disgusting even. If he’d just found a way to fight back… Ed’s breath hitched, stomach threatening to spill its contents as he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face to the floor for the scant privacy it offered. It wasn’t the pain, not really. He was in agony, but it was hardly the first time. Pain he was used to.
It was the rest that got him, cruel, phantom touches that didn’t belong there. It was the way his lips still burned, something grotesque clinging to his tongue beneath the metallic taste of blood. He could still feel that bastard all over him, inside him, and he’d have covered his mouth against the urge to retch if he’d had enough slack in the chain.
“I think this is the quietest I’ve seen you. You know, you talk in your sleep?” Ed started abruptly, his body instinctively trying to curl in again, at the horrifyingly familiar voice outside his cell. His eyes widened as he tried to turn his head further away, finally noticing the collar that dragged against the stone floor as he moved. He didn’t have time to think much on it, derailed once more by the guard talking, “Calling your commanding officer by his first name? That’s awfully personal of you.”
“Fuck you,” Ed snarled, couching his fear in the angry reply. They couldn’t possibly know. More importantly, he had to find Roy. The pain, the loss of dignity, he could bear that, if Roy was just okay. Desperate, he grabbed onto the chain to his wrist, trying to haul himself to his feet.
He almost made it too. Ed wobbled, knees shuddering , the strain of his weight against the manacle around his wrist making him hiss. Just as he was steadying himself, a vicious yank to his neck knocked him back off balance. Hissing in pain and fighting to keep upright, Ed could just make out the end of a leash dangling from the guard’s fingers.
His stomach might as well have rotted out. Leashed and collared like a dog, Ed was hauled back down to his knees, the stone floor cracking brutally against them. The guard’s voice was acid in Ed’s ears, “I don’t know where you think you’re going.”
“Piss off,” Ed growled, threateningly as he could manage, naked and covered in the evidence of before.
“Now now, I’d be more polite if I were you. I don’t think I need to tell you what’s at stake.” Ed glared at the guard, but the threat shut him up, and he set his jaw as the guard stepped closer, taking up some slack in the leash.
“How do I even know he’s alive?” Ed demanded as his mind wrapped around the gravity of the situation. He couldn’t see Roy, had no way to know what they’d done with him.
“Be good and I’ll prove it to you.” The guard didn’t wait for a reply. He wrapped the leash around his hand until his palm was inches from Ed’s face, forcing the young man to glare up at his captor. Ed pulled back against it, but there was no give, and he didn’t dare say a word.
“Handy thing, don’t you think? With an arm missing, it wasn’t like I could cuff you,” The guard was still talking, but Ed wasn’t listening anymore, focusing elsewhere. Al would’ve found his note hours ago, and now that Hawkeye knew where Roy was, surely she was sending help. He could hold out a little longer.
The guard must’ve asked a question, because Ed’s silence earned him a violent push, his head cracking against the bars of his cell. It throbbed, but not enough to drown out the revulsion of hands on him again, uncuffing his wrist to shove him down on his back. He stared dumbly for a moment as the guard loomed above him, and if he’d thought to attack now that his hand was free, the blustering threat to Roy’s safety stayed his hand.
No no no. He could do this. He could do this to protect Roy, but he couldn’t look. Ed squeezed his eyes shut, but it saved him from nothing. The rough scrape of a thick palm shoving his thighs apart was magnified by his lack of sight, and Ed whimpered in spite of himself.
Ed bit his lip against the pained groan that threatened to rip from his throat. The press of the guard’s fabric clad legs between his was revolting. Something cold and slick was smeared against his entrance, and for all he’d thought he’d hurt before, it was nothing like now.
A sobbing moan wrenched from his lips, and all that was left was the wreckage of it all. It would be over soon. It had to be over soon. Ed was sure he was dying.
The worst thing, the very worst part is even now, one handed and doubled over, Ed was sure he could take the guard. He nearly did, lashing out in panic and loathing as the guard’s still slick hand curled around his cock. Ed thrashed, trying to crawl away. Dread choked off his breath even as his body responded, helpless for all he didn’t want it.
In reality it was over quickly, but each passing moment felt like a lifetime in condemnation. He didn’t want it, but his body didn’t seem to care. All the loathing, all the hate in the world didn’t stop the way his body wound down. His own release splattered across his belly, and Ed sagged against the floor in defeat. He didn’t care when the guard pulled back, or about the sticky warmth that found its way to spray his lips and cheeks.
Ed was hardly aware that he’d even reached up, trying to wipe away the mess. The guard nudged him with a boot, pulling threateningly on the leash. “Leave it.”
Too exhausted, too ashamed to do anything else, Ed obeyed. He was eerily silent, eyes slipped shut to hide the grief there. Maybe he could sleep, wake to find himself safe in bed with Roy, all of this just a bad dream. Maybe he could just not wake at all.
“Get up,” the guard demanded, but Ed wasn’t certain he even could. He lay still, scowling at the way his voice betrayed him when he got a boot in the side for his efforts.
“I said get up,” the guard repeated. There was a firm yank on the collar, leaving Ed to choose between standing up and choking. He struggled to his feet, every inch of him screaming as he moved.
No sooner was he standing and the guard was dragging him towards the door. He stumbled along, dazed and blinking furiously to hide the way his eyes watered. It was only a couple hundred feet to their destination, but it might as well have been miles.
The guard stopped and Ed lurched, leaning against the wall as much as the leash would let him. He watched disinterestedly as the guard unlocked the door, slowly pulling it open. The guard stuck his head into the room, his voice echoing inside it, “I thought you might want to get a chance to thank your friend for looking out for you again.”
Ed was dragged to the door, and shoved unceremoniously inside. The leash released, there was nothing to keep him upright, and he crumpled to the floor, clenching his teeth in agony. His body curled in on itself, his arm cradling the empty socket of his right shoulder.
“Ed…” Roy’s voice shot straight to Ed’s gut, before he even saw the man. He was covered in blood and come and heaven only knew what else, and Roy had to see it all, this most debased moment of his life.
“Ed…ward?” It was long moments before Ed registered the strange slur of Roy’s voice. He struggled to turn his head, biting his lip when he saw the way that Roy was slumped in the corner of the cell. His fingers crept across the stone floor, but he came no closer to Ed, as if he simply wasn’t able.
He did cry then, silent and bitter. His head was turned so Roy wouldn’t see, obviously too drugged to come to Ed’s side. Maybe in a few hours it would all be over. In the meantime, for all that he’d sacrificed, he hadn’t saved Roy from anything at all.