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He would not have expected his own hands to have felt so unspeakably vast, coiled thick and heavy around a borrowed windpipe. Those hands, his hands, his arms, his strength, the force and weight of an adult body pressing down onto something delicate, something fragile, something to be handled with care.

“D’you get it now?” It’s his voice that growls, it’s his hips that snap against this body’s brittle pelvis, but the words and actions seem unrecognizable; drenched in another man’s rage. “D’you get what you were putting me through all this fucking time?”


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Edward’s breath hitched as the rough material of the man’s gloves scratched dully across the underside of his flaccid length, a terrified squeak escaping him even as he fought to suppress his reactions. Golden eyes were alive with horror as the rod was toyed between deft fingers, the colonel’s playful smirk contrasting the visceral threat of the tool.


“Oh, don’t be so childish,” Roy tutted in a mock-scolding tone, dipping the tip of the toy into the tightness of Edward’s slit. The boy’s body went rigid against the mattress, his spine rising away from the sweat-soaked blankets in a scream that catches in the make-shift cloth gag. “I’m sure you had plenty of time to get used to this when you were bedridden.”


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“Tell me, has my puppy been a good little boy?”


The only response Edward could summon was a gasp and a wet, desperate, “Puh- please…”


“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Roy removed his hand with a faux-frown, milking his look of mock-disappointment for all it’s worth with an uncharacteristic pout. “Perhaps my little puppy doesn’t deserve to cum…”


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His fingers claw for purchase at his throat, searching fruitlessly for the restraint that had closed off his windpipe. The room was swimming with unshed tears, the heat in his cheeks turning his face an unnatural red.


“You know, Fullmetal, there’s a trick to controlling a flame,” the colonel explained, watching with faint bemusement as the child struggled in his vacuum. “It needs to breathe just like we do. Once you understand that, it’s a simple matter of deciding when to cut it off.”


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Ed grit his teeth, swallowing the bark of pain that threatened to escape him until all that came out were pitiful whimpers. The grit of the rubber dug into the subtle ridging of his erection, pressing the imprint of treads into skin pulled tight.


“What are you whining for? You told me to touch you. You should be grateful to get even this much of me.”


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“You’re not… seriously gonna leave me here are you…?” Ed asked in a small voice, tugging at his restraints as if proving his helplessness may weaken the older man’s resolve.


“I’ll be back to pick you up after work,” Roy replied with a fond tug on the boy’s plush pubescent cheek, a familial touch that seemed far too out of place in this situation. “For now, you focus on having fun with the rest of the regiment.”


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Roy pressed the chalky white tablet into the boy’s outstretched palm, the child’s eyes wide with the wonder and reverence reserved for adults who were generous enough to bestow their wisdom and guidance on developing minds.


“So, uh… even though you did it inside…I’m not gonna get, uh… y’know…”


The man’s smile was kind, sympathetic, practiced to perfection.


“With this, it will be as though it never happened.”


Aspirin had many uses, but this was fast becoming Roy’s favorite.


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Somehow, he’d always imagined the colonel’s semen as a comforting warmth, filling his body with an unnatural heat or steaming sensually off his skin. In reality, it was just as unsettlingly cool as anyone else’s when it shot across Ed’s face in thick ropes of off-colored cream. Bunching a red sleeve in one hand, he raised his wrist to his face to mop up the mess but instead found it caught in the older man’s tight grip.


“Leave it. I think you look better like this.”


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He could still taste the soured rim of the bottle that Mustang had pushed against his lips and told him to drink, promising “hair on his balls” in return for a few desperate moments of drowning in the sickly stench of hops. The snapping of the man’s hips against his frail body was like whiplash, the impact of his cock packing his organs up into his throat, beating his stomach into submission. His head is pounding, his insides lurching as his face is pushed even further into the mattress.


“Mus— stop—” His broken plea was cut short by the acidic sickness that burned up his esophagus and torched its way out from between his lips, the hand firm on the back of his head keeping him pressed into his mess as fermentation and what remained of lunch was ground back into his teeth and nostrils.


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He became aware of the world around him slowly; first in its stagnant, sweat-soaked air, then in the weight of the man’s arm draped over his chest. The breath down the back of his neck was like the waves of heat that rose from the cobblestone streets in mid-summer, the panting like a dog left out on the back porch by a careless owner. The only cool thing in his new, waking world was the wetness between his cheeks, fat drops of the jelly-like substance rolling down his crack and collecting under his balls.


“Good morning, Fullmetal… Now that you’re up, do you want to go for round two?”


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He squirmed at the sound of the zipper being undone, the room filling with the sound of well-oiled metal plates sliding softly across one another as he writhed in dread. He squeezed his eyes shut, sealing his lips as tightly as he could manage and tipping his face towards the floor.


“If you truly do not wish to find yourself in this position again, I suggest you take this advice to heart.” The stream is hot against his scalp and reeking of fermentation, as if the man’s entire body were soured with rot. “Learn who you belong to, and I will not have to keep reminding you.”


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The colonel’s hands pulling his arms from his face had been a rude awakening. He assumed he’d been doing such a good job staying silent, burying his sniffles into the crook of his elbow. The mattress beneath him was already creaking and crying with every thrust, he assumed any squeak he let out would simply be lost in the din.


“There’s no need to hide from me, baby. I think it’s cute when you cry for me.”


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“Palms on the desk, feet shoulder width apart.”


Edward grumbled as he complied to the man’s clipped order, positioning himself against the dark oak as directed.


“You’re getting ten.”


“And you’re getting on my fucking ne— Ah!”


He doesn’t have to see him to know he’s grinning, Ed can hear that self-impressed smirk in the man’s voice.


“And I expect you to count them.”


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There was a moment when the leather was pulled so taut it choked him, before the buckle came to a comfortable rest against the nape of his neck. There was a moment when he understood what it meant to live at the end of a lead, the danger of being at someone else’s mercy.


“This way, everyone will know who you belong to,” the colonel said kindly, his gentle fingers combing stray hairs away from the boy’s face to give them both a better view. As if in disbelief, Edward brought his fingers to the stiff band around his neck, feeling the ridges and findings of the collar’s design beneath their soft pads. “And I’ll never have to worry about my little puppy getting too lost to come home to me.”



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“I’m not some charity case, I don’t need your stupid money.”


The hand on his thigh is unmoving, its stillness reminding him of spiders with forelegs raised. His conversation partner was prepared to sink his fangs in at a moment's notice— he was only waiting for Edward to consent to being drained.


“But you need me, don’t you? So why not let me include a tip for excellent service?”


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The room was a sweat-soaked darkness, only ever briefly illuminated in the colorful bursts of the evening’s fireworks display. Beneath them, the mattress creaked and cried, the bedframe rocking in time with the man’s clumsy thrusts. The air between them was soured with what remained of Victory Day’s celebratory drinks, and wherever Roy’s hands gripped him, his skin was left hot and clammy.


“T-tighter… little more… oh, you’re so good for me, babe, you’re so good…” the colonel slurred, his drunken desperation brought to light in a dreamlike patriotic green. Open-mouth kisses that burned like hot wax were pressed haphazardly into the crook of Edward’s neck, the boy’s entire body swaying as Roy sloppily thrusted between his legs, the endlessly muttered praise only barely audible over the celebration below their window.



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Ed jerked away from the gentle hand at his jaw, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. If this man thought leather bindings and hollow gestures were enough to contain his ire, he had another thing coming.


“I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about this,” he said, allowing his hand to fall empty when his touch was refused. The colonel spoke as if to a stranger, his unreadable expression tying Ed’s stomach in knots. “It’s not like I didn’t own you before.”


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“Now, you be a good boy and wait right here for me, alright?” Roy instructed kindly, wrapping the lead around the post and knotting it tightly, causing Ed to stumble forward from the force of his tugging. Ed glanced over his shoulders at the few loitering groups they’d passed and found them all staring back at him with wide eyes, their attention fixed on the thick leather band around his neck and the leash in the other man’s hands. “This way, I don’t have to worry about you running off again.”

He had always assumed the threat of being kept on a “short leash” was meant to be taken figuratively.


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Ed didn’t think he’d ever understand the colonel’s proclivities. Sure, it was private, but was an interrogation room really the most romantic rendezvous point? He was certain even a cramped bunk would’ve been better than being forced up against the mirror by his superior.


“Say, Fullmetal,” Another snap, Ed’s body forced up against his own reflection, the rise of his chest chilled by the icy touch of his other self’s nipple. “Have you ever heard of a two-way mirror?”


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There was a sense of suffocation in the stilled car, the world outside its walls lost in the torrential downpour.


“I appreciate you agreeing to see me on such short notice,” The hammering of the rain against the car windows nearly drowned out the Colonel’s voice, but somewhere amidst the thundering overhead Edward could hear the gentle click of the lock. A metal hand reached subtly for the latch, testing it once to confirm the door would no longer be an option. “Tell me— Does your brother know where you are right now?”


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“Oh wow, they’re bigger than I thought!” Ed snorted playfully, holding out two mismatched hands now drowning an ocean of ignition cloth. Roy’s gloves seemed so comical on a boy who’s fingertips only barely graced his second knuckle.


The contrast between them was stark in the strangest places— the difference apparent in little things like how toylike Ed’s boots seem next to his own. Roy could only imagine what it would look like to wrap his wide palms around both of the boy’s stick-thin wrists and finally have every precious inch of him all to himself.


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“This is an important night,” Roy began politely, deft fingers turning the silk tie that hung loosely from Ed’s neck over itself into a presentable knot. In an instant, Roy jerked his wrist to pull the knot tight against the boy’s throat. Ed only had a moment to register the murderous look in the man’s dark eyes as his voice dropped into a growl. “And you will not fuck this up for me.”


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Roy would never understand why the military bothered to pour funding into an entire separate barracks for the state alchemist program when there were only ever one or two alchemists living on-base at a time, but he appreciated the luxury of a dormitory intended for fifty being shared between two sole occupants. In this environment, they became comfortable with each other in ways he would not have previously assumed possible; it only took a few short week for Edward to go from cowering behind lockers to undress as quickly as possible and hosing off just as rapidly to being completely unphased by Roy’s presence in their showers. He stopped jumping at every sound, stopped hiding behind towels and armfuls of clothes, and started to finally accept their debauched sense of domesticity. It was like a playful invitation, like Edward was starting to seek Roy’s company, like he was offering himself more in actions than in words, like he wanted Roy to slip into the stall with him, like he wanted Roy to wrap his hands around the boy’s waist and tell him to stop acting like such a tease. After all, Ed had to know it was impossible to see a pale and precious body like that every morning without eventually wanting to try it for yourself.


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Something about watching Roy’s hand work it’s way along the length of his cock was mesmerizing. With his head pillowed on the man’s chest, each hitched breath jumped against his cheek as he watched with quiet fascination. Only the barest hints of daylight were filtering through the cracks of the dorm’s loosely drawn curtains, but even in the half-light of the early morning it was obvious what Roy was doing. Ed wasn’t sure if he should be watching, he didn’t even know if Roy knew he was awake until he heard the man’s faint chuckling.


“You know, if you’re awake, you should join me.”


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“Come on, baby, don’t be like that, it’s not even loaded,” Roy teased, the fumbling tip of his thumb toying across the hammer of the handgun Ed always knew was kept in the same drawer as the lube and the address book.


With his face turned away from the barrel pushed flush to his jawline, Ed’s words came out in a breathy tremble, “You’re drunk.


He turned his hand and tucked the pistol beneath his chin, speaking through a playful chuckle.


“Don’t believe me? I’ll prove it.”


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Ed’s fingers hurry for the latch at his throat, tumbling over one another to free him from overshirt. There’s something in this man’s tone that demands instant obedience, something in his eyes that scream murder. The supply closet is a tight, restrictive space that was fast becoming choked with the nicotine scent that would forever cling to the older man’s uniform.


“I want to see every inch of you.”


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Neither the desk nor the floorboards creak as Edward’s small body is forced over the workspace and thrusted into. With a gloved hand held so tightly over his mouth it makes his jaw ache, even his squeaks and whimpers are deafened as the older man’s cock pounds into him.


“Oh, yes,” Roy spoke calmly into the phone’s receiver, as if this was a casual act, as though he did this all the time. He seemed completely unbothered by Edward squirming across the mahogany beneath him as he continued his work call. “Fullmetal’s quarterly assessment has certainly been an in-depth process.”


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“Why are you making me wear this…?” Ed fussed, shyly tugging the material of the skirt further down his groin in a fruitless attempt at modesty.


“Hm… Curiosity.”


“No— It’s ‘cuz you’re a perv!”


“That is a form of curiosity as well.”


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It felt like days, not seconds, until Ed could finally manage to pull his hands away from the dusty chalk outline of the experimental circle. It felt like breaching the surface of dark water, like he was gasping for air, like he was thrashing in blackness and searching for land, but all he could see were the two dark eyes of the man pulling him up by his collar. When Roy spoke, it was with an uncharacteristic tremble, his eyes wild with desperation even as he fought to maintain his aggressive sense of authority.


“What did you see?”


I saw you, I saw through you, with your eyes, with your mind, I felt your hands and your hair and your clothes and your skin and the aches that sink into your bones, I felt your hunger and your thirst and your reliances on your vices, I felt what it was like to need so much, need it all the time, need it from anywhere, anytime, I felt your addiction, I saw myself, through your eyes, I saw every opportunity you saw, every time you could’ve had me, I learned what it was like to stalk a prey that doesn’t even have the mind to sense the danger all around it, all around me—


“I-I saw you for who you are—”