A Fair Price
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Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,588
Reviews:
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0
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Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,588
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Fair Price
Title: A Fair Price
Pairing: ArcherxRoy, implied ArcherxEd
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con, knife play, blood play, bondage, breath control, mental fuckery
Feedback: Please Read & Review
Disclaimer: Don\'t own FMA, ain\'t profiting. S\'all good.
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There was something in his eyes. Something resembling fear, but laced heavily with pride; it wasn’t what the Lieutenant Colonel was looking for. Archer wanted fear, plain and simple. Not that the man lying beneath him, slightly pinked and breathing heavily with wary anticipation, wasn’t a treat in itself, but fear, uncertainty, insecurity… these were the emotions he wanted to evoke, to pull from the man’s very core. He wanted to see him crack.
The man in question, the cool, collected Colonel Mustang, would most definitely need to be taught exactly what it was he had gotten himself into. His unnerving devotion to the Elric brothers is what put him there, and his ability to worm his way out of any situation is what he thought he could use to save his dignity, but really, the man didn’t know who it was he was dealing with.
Archer smiled.
He had Mustang exactly where he’d wanted him since first laying eyes on him at Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ funeral. Of course his reputation preceded him, but to see him in the flesh was far better than what his mind’s eye had created from the descriptions he had heard over the years.
There was something in the eyes of the man at that time too: a first glance appearance of calm collection, laced heavily with sadness. Archer had to hand it to him, the man knew how to compose himself, but it took someone as inspecting as himself to notice the true emotion behind the facade.
But here he was now, saving his two prodigal sons from the control of the ‘Bad Man’. Mustang’s arrogant pride kept him from expressing his true care for the boys and let his manipulative ways push them away, which consequently landed them right in Archer’s hands. Of course Mustang couldn’t have that. He knew Archer’s reputation as much as Archer knew his. He knew that letting the brothers be under the Lieutenant Colonel’s control meant sending them into all kinds of unnecessary dangers that they may or may not be able to save themselves from. They were his responsibility; he got Fullmetal into the military in the first place, he had to protect them. He owed it to them and to Hughes. If he couldn’t save his best friend, damn it, he was going to save these boys.
So, when he found out about their undermining of his authority to transfer into Archer’s control, well, he just couldn’t have that.
“Are you comfortable?” Archer asked, running his thin finger down the bridge of the man’s nose in a mocking gesture of affection.
Mustang’s eyelids twitched to a brief glare, but he said nothing.
Archer let his thumb slide over the black, oversized gag set firmly in place inside his willing captive’s mouth; it was secured around the back of his head by a heavy leather strap and prevented much noise from escaping at all. It made breathing through his mouth damn near impossible and it was probably a little more than uncomfortable.
“Don’t expect me to believe your lack of response is because of this, Roy,” He tapped the rubber ball holding the smooth, white jaw open, “I know for a fact that noise is capable of escaping this. Besides, there are other ways of expressing yourself.”
Mustang’s nostrils flared with a huff of indignation. He had agreed to this. Edward’s transfer had already been finalized behind his back and the only way to get him under his command again was with Archer’s approval. Playing along with the sadistic man’s games was in his best interest.
Mustang nodded his head slightly and slowly.
“Very good. I know you’ve probably never let yourself get into this position before… at least not with a man like me, or even a man at all for that matter. Your pride must be screaming,” he teased.
A twinkle of rebellion flickered past Roy’s eyes, but he said nothing.
Archer leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’d love to hear you scream sometime, Roy.”
No response.
Archer slid off the motel room bed and stood, stretching his arms over his head and eyeing his night’s pet. They had agreed to meet in the dingy inn just outside of Central to ensure privacy, but the lack of style just added to the atmosphere, really. Under any other circumstance, The Great Roy Mustang would never be caught dead in a place like this, good heavens no. The Connoisseur of chic? Ladies man extraordinaire? Agreeing to be bound and gagged in a seedy motel room with a man whom he outranked? The idea was laughable.
Archer inspected the metal handcuffs securing the man’s hands above his head to the rusted and paint-chipped headboard. They seemed a comfortable fit, so he tightened them until the metal rings bit into his skin.
Mustang shifted and Archer reached down to run his fingers through the Colonel’s black bangs, letting his thumb trail across his forehead.
“Too tight?” he asked sweetly.
Again, no response. Pity.
His captive was completely unreadable. There was no flash of annoyance in his eyes, no flush of anger in his cheeks, no indication what so ever that he was restraining his reactions out of pride or spite, but Archer knew he was. Oh, he had to be.
Archer let his hand slowly slide down the man’s cheek to his neck, chest and down to his legs, savoring the touch of his skin as he walked towards the foot of the bed. Mustang had already been stripped bare and was now laid out on his back for the world to see. His skin was pale, but not unattractively so, and much softer than one might guess for a man of his age and profession. There was a small, sparse patch of dark hair in the middle of his chest, and a thin line below his belly button that lead to a thick tuft around his flaccid and rather unimpressed cock. As his hand moved, he could feel the man’s muscles twitch beneath his skin.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts, Colonel?” Archer teased as he ran his hand between his captive’s legs, palming his balls, “Is this what they call the fight or flight response?” Mustang hitched in a breath at the contact and Archer chuckled.
Finally, a reaction he could read.
Really though, he was very nice to look at, it was no wonder women fell over themselves to be seen with him. He wasn’t all that muscular, but he was well defined- toned, even and what he lacked in physical strength, he made up for tenfold in cunningness and alchemic power.
Which reminded him…
Archer released Roy’s balls, much to the man’s relief, and rummaged through his pile of discarded clothing on the floor at the foot of the bed. When the proud Colonel had arrived at the motel room earlier, he was a little reluctant, to say the least, about stripping and laying down for a disembodied voice off the in the darkness of the rented room, even though he was well aware of what he had signed up for before their little tryst. Archer had left the room dark for his honored guest’s arrival in order to test the man, to see how willing he was, how much of himself he was prepared to give to ensure the safety of his almost-children. In the near-darkness, he had no idea if he was alone, he had no idea if he was putting himself in real danger, but he knew that if he screwed up, he’d never get the boys back.
Plus, a nice little verbal reminder by Archer about the vulnerability of Alphonse Elric’s blood array seemed to put the man’s priorities truly in check. He ended up disrobing quickly and neatly before climbing onto the musty bed. Archer of course would have liked a lengthier and more alluring showcase of the act in the dim light, but he had a lot more in store for the man and let it slide. He thought himself quite generous.
Archer rummaged, searching for the alchemist’s trademark spark gloves. It was explicitly stated that he was not to bring them with him. Archer did not need to give him any reason to think that he might be able to get out of this without fulfilling his end of the bargain. It had been decided that Mustang was to be his pet for the night in exchange for official command of Fullmetal (and subsequently, his younger brother). Archer was not going to let this opportunity pass him by, no glove was going to ruin his fun.
He was almost satisfied until he came upon the man’s shoes. Tucked inside, he found one, only one, of Roy’s little weapons. How foolish.
He stood, holding the piece of cloth in his hand like a prize. “Excellent place for this, Colonel. What exactly did you think you’d be able to do with it over here, while you’re all the way over there?” He swung the glove around on his finger, mischief in his eyes.
Mustang lifted his head off the bed to see what he was talking about, narrowed his eyes with recognition of his found glove, then let his head fall back onto the pillowless and sheetless bed.
Archer let a smirk cut through his face while walking back up to the head of the bed where the Colonel would be able to see him easier. Standing on the discarded bed pillow with one knee up on the bare mattress, he held the glove directly in Roy’s line of vision, ensuring the man’s full attention, then reached into his uniform boot and procured a long, ornate knife. He made quite a show of slowly slicing the glove into useless scraps, paying extra care to make sure the signature salamander array was thoroughly destroyed.
Roy didn’t even flinch and that unnerved Archer. The lack of cooperation needed to be dealt with.
Dropping the glove scraps to the floor and setting his knife on the bedside table, he walked back to the foot of the bed and opened the duffle bag he brought with him, his housing for the evening’s toys. He pulled out a rather complicated looking contraption, made of cold metal and leather straps, and brought it back up to the head of the bed.
He spent a few minutes securing the apparatus in place, stood back and inspected his handiwork. It was a rather interesting piece. Designed for posture control, it consisted of an adjustable metal ring with two equally adjustable supporting bars connected to it perpendicularly; the ends of which were welded to curved supports that rested around the tops of Roy’s shoulders. The shoulder supports were also held in place around Roy’s upper chest, under the arms, by a leather strap to prevent them from sliding off his shoulders. The adjustable ring fit snugly underneath Roy’s jaw line and around the base of his skull, straightening his neck and lifting his chin slightly, rendering his head nearly immobile, which prevented him from being able to see what his captor was doing to him further down his body.
It was ingenious, really. A blindfold would have worked just as well, but it would have also left Archer equally blind to read his pet’s eyes, and though it looked rather complicated and almost medieval, once he attached all the confusing parts, he could see why he chose it over the standard neck brace.
Its function was the same as any other, immobilizing his head, except this one left the tender flesh of the Colonel’s neck exposed and vulnerable, and that very same Colonel knew it.
Of course if Roy had known what it was from all the confusing parts, he would have never had been so compliant with its application. Once he realized what had been attached to him, he squirmed the best he could, but it was already too late.
Archer sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned across Mustang’s abdomen, his head cradled in one hand, idly running the fingers of his other hand over the man’s skin.
Mustang’s brows were furrowed. He looked even more uncomfortable than before, what with the gag forcing his jaw open and the brace tilting his head back, but it was necessary. He needed to be shown who was in charge.
“You know, I wouldn’t have had to do that to you if you would just swallow your pride and cooperate. I’m beginning to wonder if you really want your precious boys back at all,” Archer let his fingers dance over to a small nipple, and Mustang’s eyes, which had been previously boring a hole into the ceiling, shot to Archer’s face, or as much of Archer’s face as he could see with his head at the angle it was.
“Why are you doing this, anyway?” The Lieutenant Colonel asked, knowing full well his captive was incapable of answering, “You think I’ll let those boys be harmed?” There was a pause as he lightly caressed Mustang’s sensitive flesh, running his thumb over the small nub of his nipple. Roy thought it almost nice. Almost. “I don’t know, I probably would. They’re entirely too young to be messing around with military business, anyway. What were you thinking, allowing him to enlist?”
He moved his hand across Roy’s chest to tease his other nipple and the man averted his eyes.
“You know, if you hadn’t baited Fullmetal into joining, your precious Hughes would probably still be alive,” Mustang’s eyes shot back towards his face, brows furrowed in anger. Archer leaned over the Colonel’s head into his full line of vision, lightly pinching the nipple between his fingers, “So concerned with gaining the support of the higher ups… it’s your fault he was killed, Colonel, Roy. You know he was inspecting the Lab 5 incident, Fullmetal’s little soiree with the unknown.”
The man in question clamped his eyes shut, breathing heavily as if willing the concept out of his mind.
It was lovely.
“Yes, you do know that, don’t you. Poor little Elysia, growing up without her father. Oh and how she cried at the funeral,” Archer chuckled quietly, as if remembering a fond memory, continuing to caress his temporary lover’s flesh, “They’re both alone now because of you, Elysia and her mother. Maybe I should pay them a visit after we’re done here, let them know they’re in my thoughts.”
Mustang growled and his eyes shot open again in anger. Archer leaned down to mouth one nipple while the other was still pinched between boney fingers, and the Colonel growled louder again to make sure he got his point across.
Archer flicked his tongue over a hardening nipple. He wasn’t sure if the growl was over his comment of his dead friend’s wife and family, or the fact that his body seemed to be enjoying his current ministrations, but either way, the back talk wouldn’t do.
Archer lifted his head and locked eyes with the Colonel who eyed him defiantly, “Now Roy,” he crawled up fully onto the bed and straddled the man’s hips, placing his hands flat on the mattress on both sides of Mustang’s restrained head, “I would conserve that air if I were you.”
Archer lifted his hand and pinched the Colonel’s nose shut. A glorious look of alarm flashed through his eyes as he struggled unsuccessfully to breathe around the gag in his mouth. Archer held his nose closed until his face began to turn red, then released it, letting him pant heavily.
He loved seeing the man like this, completely helpless and vulnerable to something as small and simple as his nose. He let him get in a few deep breaths, then as he exhaled, Archer pinched his nose shut again and enjoyed the ride as Roy bucked his hips in an attempt to end the assault on his precious air supply.
His bucking had a directly opposing effect than what he was striving for, however. Forcing his hips upward not only rubbed Archer’s crotch delightfully, but it wasted oxygen and he sped the suffocation process considerably.
Archer let his face get a bit redder this time before releasing him, and let him pant a few less times before closing off his nose again on the next exhale. This time, he didn’t struggle. Ah yes, he’s learning.
As Mustang’s eyes watered and his face turned crimson, Archer ground the hardening erection in his pants against the lower man’s pelvis and leaned down to run his tongue along the edge of his Colonel’s jaw, where skin met metal.
“You’re beautiful when you’re dying, you know,” Archer whispered into his ear, releasing his nose. He extended his tongue to a red earlobe and paused to flick it before biting and sucking gently, “Do you hate me for this?” he murmured into the ear, nuzzling Roy’s hair with his nose as he ground his erection into the naked man’s hip.
Roy’s only response was to gather as much air into his lungs as he could. Archer lifted his hand and pretended to go for his nose again for the sheer purpose of watching the beautiful fear dance across the poor man’s eyes, but he patted his flushed cheek instead, earning him an equally beautiful look of anger.
“Don’t be angry, Roy. Remember, you’re here of your own free will,” The Colonel glanced around the room wildly, tugging on his restraints and testing the limits of the neck brace, finding that neither allowed for much give. Archer watched, slightly amused and more than slightly annoyed at the insubordination, “You can’t get out of this until I’m through with you, and neither can Fullmetal, so I suggest you try to enjoy this,” he snapped.
Roy’s eyes all but bugged in disbelief and he offered a muffled sound of exasperation. Archer smiled at his reaction and he reached for the knife discarded on the side table. When it was brought into Roy’s view, he stiffened, eyes wide. He knew that agreeing to be bound and gagged meant some sort of domination play, but the knife was something he most definitely had not expected.
“You’re such a noble creature, Roy, offering your body in exchange for the safety of Fullmetal and his tin can of a brother,” Archer turned the knife around in his hand, admiring the way the dim light glinted off the blade’s oiled surface, “to think that you’d go through so much trouble for them,” He brought the knifepoint down to the Colonel’s neck, “Really, what makes them so special?”
Roy panted, eyes wild, as Archer slowly scratched the cold point down his jugular vein. He trailed the tip down over the leather strap of the brace to his breastbone, leaving a stinging, red line on the alchemist’s fair skin. He paused there and ground his pelvis as he flattened the blade to Mustang’s chest and slid it over to his right nipple, letting the cold harden it further before repeating the action on the left one. Roy’s eyes had become less alarmed when he realized he wasn’t going to be sliced, but he was still visibly uneasy.
Archer slid his still-clothed body down the Colonel’s abdomen and straddled his knees, leaning down to trail his lips and tongue along a hairless stomach as he drew the knifepoint further down his pale skin in a languid, winding line. Slowly, unnervingly slowly, he moved until the flat of the blade laid against his disinterested cock.
The alarm that had escaped Roy’s eyes returned tenfold, his breathing was quick and shallow, and a light sheen formed over his exposed neck and chest. The salt in the fresh scratches caused them to burn considerably more.
“Oh come now, Colonel. You don’t think I’d harm you here before I’ve had my fun, do you?” Archer teased, “What good would that do me?”
It wasn’t a promise to not harm him there, it was a promise to not harm him there yet and Roy fully recognized this. He slid the flat of the blade around his cock and under it, making sure to keep the sharpened edge away from doing any damage, teasing him with the cold. Mustang struggled to keep his lower half still, while at the same time trying to lift his upper half to see what was being done to him. He wouldn’t have been able to stop it, but not being blind to the action was better than nothing. The awkward position of his arms, coupled with the neck brace, made that impossible though and he let loose a strangled, grunting sound of frustration.
Archer slid his feet between Roy’s legs to open them wider. At first Roy resisted, but the insistent press of cold metal in his most sensitive of areas changed his mind. Archer lifted his knees over Mustang’s slightly spread legs, now kneeling between them. With one hand holding a knife circling the Colonel’s balls and the other hand rubbing circles on the man’s stomach, Archer leaned down close to Roy and breathed deeply, trailing his tongue alone the juncture of his groin and left leg.
“You’re trembling, Colonel,” he whispered, resting his cheek on Roy’s thigh, his breath slightly ruffling the dark curls, “You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you.” His soft words did nothing to reassure the alchemist trapped below him and Archer scratched the knifepoint from the sensitive flesh beneath Roy’s cock to his right inner thigh, pressing harder than he had before. Roy’s leg twitched and opened wider to escape the burning sensation, but he ended up at his stretching capacity before he could escape the blade, unable to move his leg any further away. Archer twisted the knife and pressed in, down the sensitive flesh of Roy’s thigh in a straight, shallow line, drawing beads of blood as he went. Roy heaved in a breath and held it, struggling to keep still and silent, as to not make the cut deeper than his torturer intended.
“Are you still afraid that I’ll hurt you?” Archer’s voice was low and it trailed off at the end, filled with an overwhelming heat as he slowly licked the wound on Roy’s leg, savoring the taste of blood and skin. The saliva and the rough texture of his tongue increasing the sting as Archer scratched his nails down Roy’s heaving belly, slicked with sweat.
He raised the knife again and as he slid it into the Colonel’s skin the second time, down his inner thigh and slightly deeper, he moved his right hand off Roy’s trembling stomach to cup and massage his balls. This time, as soon as the blade left his flesh, Roy flat out squirmed. His legs were trembling still, and his breath was quick as he bucked his hips and attempted to close his legs, trying to save his masculinity from the searing blade, but Archer just chuckled and held his legs down, pulling them together to straddle once again. Having his legs closed, the two cuts came in contact with his groin and opposite thigh, and his sweat stung them further.
“Is the great hero of the Eastern Rebellion squirming from a little flesh wound?” he mocked, cutting his captive slowly across his lower belly from hip to hip in a slight, frowning arc, inciting a low and muffled whine from behind the gag. As he leaned down to taste the newest wound, he slid his hand up and over the already wounded thigh, to grip Mustang’s limp cock.
“Before this night is over, Colonel,” he dragged the knife down the top Roy’s left thigh, cutting as he went, “I will make you whine in pleasure,” he left another shallow, bleeding gash as he tugged gently at Roy’s cock. Archer’s own was set to full-on pound, trapped within the confines of his regulation trousers and the Colonel could only snarl in disbelief.
Two more slices, perpendicular to the last, were cut down Archer’s captive’s thigh as he increased the tug on the man’s cock. So far, his ministrations there were unsuccessful, but then again, he wasn’t really trying.
As he massaged the irresponsive flesh in his hand, he slid his body down Mustang’s legs again, pinning them down completely with his body. His head was now in line with Roy’s thighs and turned his head to run is tongue along the fresh wounds, pausing to roughly suck and nibble at the dots of blood, drawing more blood to the surface and leaving bruises in places.
The attention caused the wounds to sting more painfully and the Colonel whined again, causing Archer to smile into the reddened thigh, making sure Roy could feel his grin on his swelling skin. He slowly dotted his nibbles towards Roy’s cock, where he lapped at it lazily with his blood-stained tongue as he ran is hands roughly over the man’s burning lap, now sticky with drying blood and spit.
If Roy could have, he would have shaken his head in disbelief. There was no way in hell this madman was going to turn him on, no way in hell. He was not there for pleasure, he was there for two orphan geniuses and one dead father and their little meeting bordered so precariously on rape that he couldn’t possibly imagine enjoying himself, even though he knew that not cooperating to the fullest would probably just prolong the torture. His pride and need for absolution for his failures outweighed his common sense, however, and no matter what this man did to him, he would not let his body enjoy it. He would not give in. He was an alchemist, damn it! A creature of will, a picture of mental strength! Fight it!
As if he could hear the Colonel’s thoughts, Archer stuck the knife into the mattress and dug his nails up the outside of Roy’s legs, from his knees to his hips, as he took the tip of the man’s cock into his mouth, sucking forcefully and teasing the underside with his tongue. Leaving one hand to knead a still shaking hip, he raked his nails down the trembling leg once again, to underneath Mustang’s cock, where he gently continued massaging his balls, cupping them and rolling them in firm circles.
Archer could almost feel the inner turmoil. The one thing the Lieutenant Colonel found he loved most about men was the ease at which their bodies betrayed them. Women, while physically weaker, were much harder to break; their emotions and minds were linked to their sexuality by a much stronger tie. Men on the other hand, were more given to animalistic need and it was this knowledge that he loved to exploit, to take the proud and unwilling, and force them into submission. Force them from fear and trepidation, to desire and craving, to complete and utter shame.
His own cock twitched as he felt the one in his mouth slowly give in and he took more, sucking insistently and bathing it with his tongue, enjoying the taste of the man’s skin as well as the lingering hint of metallic blood.
Archer felt the legs beneath him flex as a tremor coursed through Roy’s body. His breathing became more consistent and focused; he inhaled shallowly and exhaled deeply, as if attempting to will off the inevitable. Archer patiently rolled the man’s balls and tugged the cock with his mouth, sucking harder until it eventually stood proudly on its own.
Roy’s neck glistened and he visibly swallowed in between labored breaths, but he made no noise and laid perfectly still. It was almost as if he were trying to hide the fact that his body had ideas entirely opposite of his own, but there was no getting around the hard shaft of flesh sliding between the Lieutenant Colonel’s lips.
Archer leaned forward and slid his hand from Roy’s hip up to his chest to flick his fingers over a hardened nipple. The change in position caused his hair to tickle the swelling cut on Roy’s lower belly as he slowly bobbed his head up and down the slick, taut flesh of the Colonel’s cock. With one hand massaging his balls, the other teasing his chest and a warm mouth sucking his cock with earnest, it had become impossible to ignore the pleasure even though his lap and stomach burned, his jaw ached and his arms tingled with lack of circulation. Roy breathed a quiet moan and rolled his hips.
Archer let Roy’s cock fall from his mouth with a slurping pop. He moved the hand caressing the man’s balls upward to grip the shaft and tease the head with his thumb as he moved his body up over Roy’s to take in the delightful expressions playing across his flushed face. His eyes were screwed shut, his teeth bit into the gag in his mouth and beads of sweat glistened across his forehead. He struggled valiantly with his own body as it turned a deaf ear to its mind.
Archer moved his hand down the shaft and fisted it tightly, pumping him as he watched the sensations play across the Colonel’s face. He rested his free hand flat on the mattress next to the Colonel’s shoulder and continued to pump in firm, upward strokes, crooning softly to the higher ranking officer beneath him.
“You’re loving this. I can feel it in my hand, Colonel,” he whispered. Roy tried to turn his head away from the voice above him, but the brace prevented that. “You can’t deny it,” Archer increased the speed of his hand and gripped him tighter, “Give in to me, cum for me.”
Gripping the poor alchemist’s cock tighter, Archer leaned down to trail his tongue along the upturned, sensitive skin of the struggling man’s inner arm. Roy groaned in denial, his breathing hard and erratic, as Archer continued his slow trail down over the support on Mustang’s shoulder, pausing to nip at his collarbone before quickly flicking his tongue over one hard nipple and then the other. Roy reflexively arched his chest up to the touch before catching himself and retreating quickly, moaning quietly to himself in disapproval.
Archer danced his tongue up the man’s chest and over the long, red scratch on his neck, nipping gently everywhere the supports of the brace did not obstruct him. Mustang’s eyes opened and he panted heavily, jaw tightening around the gag, hips bucking up to the strong tug between his legs.
Mustang whined high and long as Archer draped a leg over his. He ground the prominent bulge in his uniform against the swollen flesh of Roy’s thigh, but then released the man’s erection and Roy growled in frustration. He yanked violently on his restraints, which did nothing but pinch his wrists more, and Archer groaned in approval with his mouth over Mustang’s Adam’s apple, causing a slight vibration to course its way through the strained and sweating neck.
He slid the hand previously gripped around Roy’s cock lower and pressed his heavy balls upwards, “Oh you want to cum so much, don’t you Colonel,” he husked to the man below him, “what would Fullmetal think of you now? Look at you, writhing under my touch,” Mustang moaned pitifully, eyes rolling as feather-light touches ran up and down the underside of his cock, “what would Hughes say to his pathetic slut of a friend,” a thumb slid over the sensitive ridge on the head of his erection and he bucked his hips to the touch, sobbing with eyes shut, brows furrowed. “Would he be proud of you? Thankful?” Archer asked, thumbing the slit slowly. He leaned down close to struggling alchemist’s ear, “Are you thinking of him as you throb under my touch?” he whispered evilly, “of Gracia?” he gripped his cock again and pumped slowly, “of little Elysia?” Mustang sobbed around the gag as his hips bucked rhythmically, trying to increase the friction, but Archer’s fist continued its torturous crawl.
“Fullmetal flushed just the way you are now, you know,” he murmured into Mustang’s ear and the man’s eyes flew open again in confusion, “He was so determined to remove himself from your command, he said he’d do anything,” two quick tugs, then a teasing thumb over the head, “What did you do to that boy to make him hate you so much?” Mustang growled in denial as Archer mouthed his earlobe, “he’s very tight, Roy. When you get him back, you should try him,” Roy sobbed, “and so beautiful,” Archer gripped the man’s cock and pumped it hard and fast, “even more beautiful when he cries,” he thrust his own erection against Roy’s side in time with his pulls as Roy bucked and writhed, eyes clamped shut, agony and pleasure dancing all across his glistening face, moaning miserably.
“Cum for me,” Archer hissed into Mustang’s ear. He licked and teased the skin behind it, sending chills down Roy’s spine, “Cum for Ed…” Roy let loose a loud groan and came violently, his stomach muscles tensing and contracting as they were splashed with cum. Archer hissed his approval in his ear as he milked the flagging cock for all its worth, the last drops dripping into the gash across his stomach, renewing the burn from earlier.
Roy panted and paid the sting no mind; he had no time to enjoy the glow of his release, because after his aroused need had passed, the reality set in. He gave into the man above him, his body betrayed him and the boy he had charged himself to protect had been marred by way of his careless and pride-drenched actions. It couldn’t be true! Not Edward!
This wasn’t absolution, this wasn’t some noble martyrdom; this was hell.
Archer watched the man below him catch his breath, his face no longer displaying agonizing bliss, but wiped clean of emotion with a good dose of reality. “That must have been nice. It was nice, wasn’t it Colonel?” Archer studied the stoic face below him, “You were very good, a very good boy,” he wiped his cum-drenched hand across the Colonel’s heaving belly and reached up to undo the brace around his neck, “good behavior brings rewards, see?” As Archer undid the straps and fasteners, Mustang almost wished he wouldn’t, even though it was digging painfully into the back of his head and causing his neck and upper shoulders to stiffen into knots. He didn’t want to be “rewarded” for his unwilling actions; he didn’t want to make this easier for him to bear. He wanted it to be as terrible as he felt inside; he wanted the outer pain to hurt as much as the inner. Little did the Colonel know, Archer understood this completely and had even anticipated it. First is the fear and trepidation, next is the desire and craving, last is the guilt and shame, along with the agonizing embrace of punishment. Mustang didn’t know it, but with his want for pain, he had been broken, even if only for the night.
Once the brace was removed and dropped to the floor, Roy promptly turned his head away from the scrutiny of the man above him as long fingers combed through his sweat-dampened hair. A finger wound around one clump of hair, tugging playfully, “I removed that brace for you. You don’t look pleased,” Archer asked, voice threatening. The tone elicited no reaction, so he reached back and dislodged the forgotten blade from the mattress, bringing it up to Roy’s chin and using the flat side to tilt the flushed face to his, but Roy’s eyes remained averted. Archer smirked in success. There was no more defiance, no fire behind the man’s eyes. Sure his strength in everyday life and battle was unsurpassed, but right now his strength had run out. His pride was shattered and Archer relished in it.
He removed the knife and let Roy’s head fall back to the side, resting the weapon on the chest below him while he undid the button of his pants. He wasn’t interested in turning their play into anything resembling intimacy, so he didn’t bother to remove them entirely, he just pulled his erection free and swiped his hand through the sticky mess on Mustang’s stomach before bringing it to his own cock and pumping it, covering it with semen.
“I did it this way for Fullmetal too,” he husked, relishing in the long awaited touch, involuntarily bucking his hips slightly. Roy hitched in a breath at the mention of his subordinate again, clinching his eyes shut and trying to block out the images that played through his head. “It really was just a matter of impatience then,” Archer continued his verbal torture, “There’s nothing more arousing than seeing those little blonde curls matted down with sweat and cum… you really ought to see it sometime, or have you already?” Archer grinned at the responding grimace, “He’s as much of a firecracker in bed as he is out of it,” Roy groaned in denial, “But now, I see this as more of a way to use your own pleasure against you, hmm?” He knelt between Roy’s legs and hooked one over his shoulder, positioning himself at Roy’s opening and starting to push. Naturally, Roy tensed and Archer leaned down close to his ear to lick and whisper, “It’s a good thing you came so much. It’s not the best lube, but it will still hurt less. You should thank me.” He pushed further, sinking the head inside and Roy growled around the gag in pain.
Archer moaned his approval at the loud reaction, holding still with just the head sunk tight beyond Roy’s muscles, “Oh now Colonel, it can’t hurt that bad. Fullmetal didn’t scream like this… but I guess automail hurts more,” He ran his tongue along the outer shell of the trembling man’s ear and down to the protruding tendon of his side-twisted neck, “I had to uncouple his leg… well I didn’t have to, I wanted to. Putting it back on? THAT was a scream…” He moved to push further and Roy whined lowly, swinging his head and eyes to plead with Archer to stop. The cum coating on his impatient cock was thin to begin with and it had started to get sticky, which did nothing to lessen the pain like he promised.
Archer studied the eyes below him and smiled slightly as he pulled out. The relief that played across Roy’s face was amusing, but it wouldn’t last long. Archer reached to the floor by the old hotel bed and picked up the discarded pillow, grabbed Roy by the bangs and lifted his head forward to shove the pillow underneath. Roy winced at the sudden pull of his hair and watched in confusion as Archer lifted the knife from his own chest, into his view again.
“You protest beautifully, I think I’d like to really hear it, Colonel,” he slid the knife carefully between Roy’s cheek and the leather strap of the gag, sawing through back and forth until it popped free, “If you cause a problem,” he said lowly, letting Roy see the seriousness in his eyes, “you already know that I am perfectly capable of using this,” he tapped the flat of the blade against Roy’s nose for emphasis before resting it on the Colonel’s chest again and removed the gag from his mouth; Roy flexed his sore jaw, but said nothing, eyeing Archer warily, “Now, isn’t that better?” Archer asked, “That’s one more favor I did you, Colonel. You’re a lucky man, Fullmetal would be jealous.”
A look of pain splayed across Roy’s features as Archer reached down to run his hand over his own cock, finding that the makeshift lube he applied there earlier had gone from sticky to basically dry. He leaned back on his haunches and ran his fingers over the throbbing head of his erection and a drop of pre-cum glistened in his slit, but it wasn’t enough.
“We’ve got a problem, Colonel. This seems to have gone dry,” he said, teasing his cock for the man below him, “So you’ve two choices. You can either take it dry, or you can fix the problem yourself. Your call,” he smiled evilly.
Roy wasn’t quick to respond and Archer made the most obvious assumption, “Dry? Brave man,” he moved forward as if to force himself inside again and Roy quickly understood the consequences of his unwillingness to respond.
“No!” Roy’s voice was hoarse and dry from the gag, his jaw sore, “Not dry,” he grated out.
Archer let a slow smile spread across his face as he stared down at the man below him, whose eyes still remained averted. The lack of action on Archer’s behalf caused him to finally glance in his direction, and Archer’s smile spread further at the eye contact, “Excellent choice, Colonel.”
Again, Roy looked away.
Archer crawled up Roy’s body, picking up the knife as he moved, and straddled his chest, resting his knees on the mattress next to Roy’s arms. He bumped the underside of his cock against Roy’s nose and watched it twitch with anticipation, then reached down and rested the blunt edge of the knife against Roy’s neck. It may not have been capable of cutting his flesh, but it was thin enough that Roy wouldn’t be able to tell the difference; all he felt was cold, threatening metal against a vital and vulnerable part of his body. If he was smart, he wouldn’t take any chances.
“If you bite, you will die. Do you understand me,” he threatened, rubbing his cock against the man’s chin and pressing the knife into his neck to emphasize. Roy nodded his head in response, involuntarily nuzzling Archer’s cock with his face.
With one arm supporting him on the headboard, and one hand holding the weapon against Roy’s neck, Archer swung his hips backwards, changing the direction of his cock and aiming it further down towards the warm mouth below.
“Open wide, Colonel,” he said, amusedly, “You’re doing this for your own good, I suggest you make it worth the effort.” Roy screwed his eyes shut for a few moments and then opened them, determination in his eyes. Archer’s cock bumped his mouth insistently and he opened it slowly, his jaw weak and trembling, to let Archer navigate his cock inside. He slid it in slowly, the tip rubbing along the ridged surface of Mustang’s upper mouth as his hot breath caressed and welcomed him.
Roy closed his lips around Archer’s cock and concentrated on breathing as it pumped in and out of his mouth. After a few deeper thrusts, he gagged and Archer pulled out to let him regain his composure. Roy looked up at the towering form above his head and mumbled hopefully between coughs, “If you untie my hands, I can make this better for you…”
Archer chuckled and twisted his hips sharply, slapping his cock against Roy’s cheek, “I’m not that stupid, Colonel,” he spat, “Besides, I rather like you tied down like a dog,” he said with a grin.
Roy opened his mouth to protest, but Archer seized the opportunity and slid back inside, holding it inside a little deeper than before. “Yesss, that’s it. Get it nice and wet,” he whispered as he slid slowly and deeply in and out of Roy’s mouth, “Get me ready for you.”
Roy slid his tongue all around the underside of Archer’s cock, sucking hard as his jaw trembled under the strain. He hoped that if he could do a good enough job with his mouth, maybe he could prevent the rest of Archer’s plans, saving his more sensitive parts from further violation.
Archer groaned at the suction. He let his forehead fall to rest on his arm on the headboard and watched his cock slide glistening in and out of Roy’s mouth. He moaned again as he watched the man’s throat work, expanding against the knife pressed dangerously against it as Archer sunk himself deeper.
He rocked his hips quickly, enjoying the feeling of his balls slapping against the Colonel’s smooth chin. He sunk himself down Mustang’s throat to the hilt and ground against him deeply, feeling his cock swirl inside his mouth and his balls roll against his chin. His breathing became erratic as Roy suckled him determinedly, and then abruptly, Archer pulled out. “I think you’ve done this before,” he said, breathless, “but you’re not getting out of this that easily.”
He quickly slid back down Roy’s body, letting the knife rest momentarily on the man’s stomach below him while he spit onto his fingers. He roughly lifted Roy’s legs at the knees and spread them as wide as they would go, briefly enjoying the view of the Colonel, the powerful Flame Alchemist, tied and spread wide for him, glistening with sticky sweat and dried cum, chest heaving slightly as he tried to catch his breath, his lips red and swollen. He smeared the spit in his hand against Roy’s opening, roughly inserting the tip of his finger, causing Roy to grimace. Satisfied that he was as wet as he was going to get, he spit into his hand again and pumped his cock quickly before settling down and pressing himself in.
He went slowly, but it was far from gentle. Roy bared his teeth in pain and pressed his head back into the pillow, letting a groan escape his throat as he was stretched. The saliva provided very little comfort, but it was still better than nothing, and slightly better than before.
Archer forced himself further in, not even pausing to let Roy adjust. The thin consistency of the saliva he used as lubrication did not provide a smooth glide, but lord did it feel good. The warmth, the tightness, the hissing intake of breath as Roy battled the pain and struggled to relax… it was heaven. Archer panted and groaned, throwing his head back as his cock was buried further inside Roy’s body, struggling himself to keep his calm.
“You’re almost as tight as Fullmetal,” he gasped as he reached the hilt. “Though I imagine he’s not as tight anymore,” he said with a laugh.
“You’re lying,” Mustang growled through the pain. His inner fire had returned with the mention of Edward and with the gag out of place, he was finally able to voice what he’d been thinking.
Archer released Roy’s right leg and leaned forward, his hand steadying himself on the mattress with Roy’s left leg hooked over his shoulder. He grabbed the knife off of Roy’s stomach as he moved and pressed the blunt edge to the restrained man’s neck again, causing Roy to lean back into the pillow at the contact.
“You think I’m lying?” he spat as he pulled almost all the way out of Roy and thrust back in savagely. Roy growled through the pain, tilting his head back and away from the man above him, “He cried for his mother while I fucked him,” another savage thrust, “and for his brother,” another again, “Though it didn’t last very long, he passed out before I could really enjoy myself,” Archer quickened his pace and Roy grunted painfully in time with the thrusts, baring his teeth, “If you had paid more attention to him, you might have noticed,” he thrust in all the way and ground into Roy, “he hobbled the next day, though he tried so hard to hide it,” he said with a chuckle and let his head fall to watch himself slam in and out of Roy, groaning involuntarily at the sight.
“Just get it over with,” Roy growled, “you got what you wanted!” His last syllable heaved into a groan he was assaulted with a more brutal thrust. Archer leaned down and ran his tongue across Roy’s dry lips, “The more you beg, the longer it lasts,” he breathed, biting the lower lip gently while he assaulted Roy’s insides.
“Goddamn it! Stop fucking around! You got what you wanted!” Roy howled, his head tilted back, trying to get away from the mouth and tongue teasing his lips and anger played across Archer’s face as he pushed himself back up and away. He moved the knife from Roy’s neck and positioned it over Roy’s face, point down.
Roy gasped at the quick motion, his eyes widening in fear at the knife so close and threatening. Archer glared down at him with teeth bared as he thrust and stabbed the knife down into the mattress, dangerously close to Roy’s head. The blade grazed the shell of his ear, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake and Roy panted in shock.
Archer released Roy’s leg from his shoulder and simultaneously pulled out, leaning up on his knees and reaching over to the nightstand for the handcuff keys. Roy’s eyes followed the motion and he his mind reeled. Was he being let go?
Archer grabbed the knife again as he raised himself off of Roy’s body. Holding the knife against Roy’s neck again, he unlocked one of the handcuffs and dropped the keys into his pocket. Leaving enough room underneath him for Roy to maneuver himself, he growled down to the man below him, “Try to run and I’ll kill you. Flip over.”
Whatever hope had crawled into Roy’s eyes disappeared rather quickly. He tested the freedom of his hands and found he could pull them away from the headboard, “I said flip,” Archer said coldly. The man below him swallowed visibly and moved to twist his body slowly; with the knife pressed against his neck, he wanted to make no sudden movements. “Faster!” The incensed man growled, releasing the pressure on Roy’s neck and grabbing his hair with his free hand. The yanking on his head was not doing anything to help him flip his body over, but Archer was driven by rage.
With some grunting and maneuvering on both their parts, Roy ended up on his stomach with Archer straddling his back on his knees, which did nothing for the pain of his cuts. Archer reached under Roy’s head and whipped the pillow away, throwing it across the room and into the window. He slammed the Colonel’s cheek into the mattress and held the knife against his face, “Handcuff yourself,” he spat.
The angle of his head made it difficult for him to be able to see what he was doing and he struggled, fumbling with fear. Archer, impatient, grabbed the man’s hair again, forcing his head up so he could see, holding the knife savagely against his throat causing Roy to hiss in pain. “DO IT!” he growled.
Roy managed to get the cuff hooked around the headboard bar and back on his own wrist. Satisfied that his captive wasn’t going anywhere, Archer threw the knife to the floor and pushed Roy’s head into the mattress, using it to brace his weight as he slid himself back down towards Roy’s legs. He then grabbed the prone man’s sides and heaved upwards, “On your knees, Colonel,” he grated, and Roy brought himself up the best he could, using his head and shoulders as leverage, until his ass stood in the air in front of Archer. He tried to lift his upper body on his arms, but Archer slammed the back of his neck down as he used his own knees to part Roy’s legs.
He pumped his cock a few times and shoved in quickly. Roy howled in pain as his bruised and dry ass was once again assaulted. “I told you to cooperate,” Archer growled with emphasis as he slammed into Roy, “I made this easy for you,” he grabbed Roy’s hips as the bed slammed into the wall, “but you still,” slam, Roy grunted in pain with each thrust, “don’t know,” slam, “your place!”
He grabbed Roy’s hair again, forcing him to arch his back painfully, “You’re an alchemist,” slam “this is equivalent,” slam, “EXCHANGE!” slam.
Roy tried to stifle the moans of pain, but it was too much to bear. His back was slicked with sweat and his hair was matted and clumped against the back of his neck. With each thrust, he was shoved towards the headboard and eventually his cheek was pressed against it painfully, slamming into it as it struck the wall.
Archer’s thrusts and breathing were becoming more erratic. He released Roy’s hair and grabbed his hips again, pulling them back onto him with each thrust, trying to bury himself as deep as he possibly could, and Roy knew that it was almost over.
Soon, he gave his last few brutal thrusts and buried himself deep inside Roy, gripping his hips painfully tight and howling his release. Roy moaned and panted in relief as Archer pulled out of him and was then shoved back down onto the bed as Archer left him, stumbling into the bathroom to clean himself. He found traces of blood on his pants as well as his flagging erection; Roy would definitely be feeling it in the morning.
In the bare-bulb light of the bathroom, he regained his breath before wetting a washcloth rag and wiping the sweat off his brow and neck, smiling to himself smugly in the dirty mirror. After then cleaning the blood off everywhere he could, he rinsed the rag and soaked it with warm water before walking back into the room proper and over to the figure of Roy, curled into himself on his side on the bed, his back to the bathroom. His hands were cuffed to the rusted rungs of the headboard at an odd angle and his head laid in his arms the best it could. His knees were drawn up to his stomach in a trembling fetal position and Archer could see the wetness glistening between his thighs.
Archer walked around to the other side of the bed, limp cock still exposed, wet rag in hand, and kneeled on the floor, looking at Roy. The broken alchemist knew he was there, but he didn’t acknowledge him and that was just fine for the time being. Archer reached out his hand and ran fingers through tousled, black hair, the pad of his thumb running over the man’s cheek, and Roy flinched behind closed lids.
“You were behaving yourself so well,” he said to Roy, “I was going to let you go, but not after that little bout of back talk. You’re mine for a little while longer.”
Roy breathed slowly and tiredly, his brow furrowing in frustrated fatigue.
Smirking, Archer reached down to stretch Roy’s legs out to clean his wounds. Infections would attract attention, and attention to these wounds would attract questions- questions that did not need to be asked. This night did not need to be mentioned by either man involved; it would serve neither of them any good. For Roy, it would not only destroy his pride and reputation, but he would run the risk of being disciplined for fraternizing with a lower ranking officer, and a male one, no less. Sodomy was a crime and while it wasn’t usually enforced among the general populace, in the military it was still a serious issue. For Archer, he’d most definitely be tried for blackmail, sodomy as well, and if his horrid tales of using Edward were true, sexual molestation of a minor. Of course Archer’s list of crimes was more severe, but with Roy’s agenda and the reputation he worked so hard to build, Archer wasn’t too concerned about being exposed. The Great Roy Mustang would never admit to humiliating himself like this.
As Roy’s legs were stretched out, he grimaced and hissed. He had been lying in his curled position for a bit and his wounds had gotten used to the position. When his skin was stretched, his cuts opened painfully and he felt as though the knife was being drawn through him all over again.
Archer took in the sight of the man before washing his wounds gently. Pale and shivering as his sweat evaporated, trembling from the revived pain; the rough rag scratched and the warm water felt nice against the chill, but the pain cancelled that out.
Roy licked his dry lips and swallowed, looking down at Archer has the rag ran across his swollen skin. Every lingering swipe felt like a fresh cut and his breath became shallow as he tried to ignore the pain.
“Why are you doing that,” he croaked, voice strained.
The corners of Archers mouth quirked up as he finished washing the last clot out of the longer cut on Roy’s left thigh. The Colonel’s skin was pink and glistening and Archer couldn’t help but put his lips to it. Roy sighed when he realized Archer had no interest in explaining himself and closed his eyes again, trying to block it all out.
Seeing Roy’s belly twitch with pained breath and the raised lines of pink, broken flesh was enough to awaken Archer again and he spent extra care washing Roy’s limp cock. By then, the warmth of the rag had gone cold and he dropped it to the floor, replacing it with his mouth.
On his side, Roy shifted uncomfortably and whimpered. It felt good. He knew there was no denying it; he had already given in to the need once before, struggling against it now was pointless, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Kneeling on the floor, Archer stroked his own reviving erection as he sucked the life back into Roy’s. When it was just hard enough, he replaced his mouth with his fist and moved up to Roy’s face. Studying him closely, he first drew Roy’s bottom lip, the then upper lip into his mouth, sucking gently, savoring the salty taste of sweat and discomfort. Roy whimpered and closed his teeth tightly as Archer’s tongue slipped past his lips, but an insistent and painful tug on his half-hard erection convinced him to cooperate. He opened his mouth tentatively, disgust clearly showing across his features, and Archer kissed him deeply, knowing full well the ironic intimacy of the action.
With his lips still brushing against Roy’s, Archer whispered his agenda, “I won’t be satisfied until we both cum again. How long do you want this to last?” Roy tried to turn his head away, but his restrained arms held him fast, “It would behoove you to finish first. Just a suggestion.” Archer slipped his tongue past Roy’s lips for a taste once more before getting up and walking to the opposite side of the bed.
He picked up the discarded knife from the floor next to the wall, then returned to the bed and knelt on it, looking over Roy. He reached into his pocket and procured the handcuff keys; the slight jingle piqued Roy’s interest and he dared to open an eye, looking back at his tormentor over his shoulder. Archer leaned forward and purposely slid the soft skin of his erection against Roy’s back as he moved the knife in place against Roy’s neck.
“I think you understand that fighting would ruin everything you’ve already given up tonight,” he stated, voice serious. Roy swallowed against the cold blade and stared up at the man above him, “I’m going to release your hands, but remember that. Fighting me will not give you back Fullmetal,” he chuckled slightly and his eyes glinted, “it may even endanger your life, Colonel.”
Roy’s eyes spoke of comprehension and Archer undid one the locks of the handcuffs while holding the blade tighter against Roy’s neck. Once free, Roy made no move to escape, just kept his eyes warily locked with Archer’s as he pulled his arms out of their awkward position. He grimaced as his sore muscles were flexed, but otherwise made no complaints.
Archer dropped the keys back into his pocket and tugged Roy’s arm while keeping the knife firmly in place, “Get up,” he said, “all the way. Kneel.”
Roy pushed himself up, swinging his knees under and rising. While Archer directed him with one hand, the other was busy with a blade, making sure there were no sudden movements. He directed Roy to kneel in front of him, his feet between Archer’s knees, facing away from him towards the headboard. Archer dragged the knife tip insistently down his chest and stomach, scratching it over the wound there causing Roy to yelp, until it rested against his half erect cock. With his other hand, he pushed Roy’s shoulder blade until Roy was on his hands and knees.
“Spread your legs,” he directed, and Roy moved them apart as much as they could, until his legs touched Archer’s. With Roy open to him as much as he could be, he spit into his hand, pumped himself a few times and pressed himself in. His previous orgasm was still trapped between Roy’s thighs and hadn’t had time to really dry, so the penetration was slightly easier, but Roy still cried out in pain.
Archer threw back his head and relished in the warmth, breathing deeply and struggling to keep himself from fucking him right then and there. Once all the way inside and he regained his composure, Archer reached forward and grabbed Roy’s shoulder, pulling him back up against his chest. As Roy rose, he dragged the knife back up to his neck, wrapping his arm around Roy’s chest. Archer brought his other arm around to Roy’s upper belly and held him in a crude embrace, rubbing lazy circles over his stomach and chest, relishing in the feeling of his firm body. He put his lips to the back of Roy’s ear and rocked his hips slightly, shifting his erection against Roy’s prostate and sending sparks of pleasure through the man’s very bones.
“Touch yourself, Roy. Cum for me,” He whispered.
Roy moaned quietly and shivered. It was one thing to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands, unable to resist, but manipulating himself into orgasm was a serious exercise of will.
“I can’t,” he whispered back pitifully, letting his head fall, his hands moving up to grip Archer’s around his chest to keep himself from leaning into the knife.
Archer shook him once in his arms, “You can and you will, or you’re not leaving,” he spat in response and Roy threw his head back over Archer’s shoulder and breathed.
Archer rocked his hips again and pressed his teeth around the juncture of Roy’s neck and shoulder, sliding them open and closed over his skin in firm, but gentle bites. Roy panted and slowly moved his right hand down to his cock. He leaned back against Archer with his left hand still gripping Archer’s arm, which had moved up to thumb a hardening nipple. He rolled his head away from Archer’s as he slid his hand over his balls, moving his palm in firm strokes up and down his full length, pressing himself into his stomach. The head just barely reached the gash that ran across it and the heat from the wound felt oddly arousing.
Roy struggled with his mind, trying to focus on his task and not the man behind him and inside of him, or the insistent sting of his legs. His body unconsciously adjusted to being filled and he tightened and loosened around Archer, who ceased his slight rocking to enjoy being softly squeezed.
Roy paused his palm strokes over the head of his erection and teased it as it hardened under his touch. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft just under the head and brought his hand down and up slowly, squeezing tighter on the upstroke. Archer continued pinching and caressing Roy’s nipples as he ran his tongue over his neck, and Roy slid his left hand over his shoulder to grip Archer’s shirt.
He was losing and winning at the same time. As he pumped his erection faster, he involuntarily bucked his hips forward, causing Archer’s cock to shift inside of him, brushing against his sweet spot and increasing the overall sensations tenfold.
Archer reveled in it; to him, he had truly won. Roy was enjoying himself at his own hand in his presence. He had given into his body and ignored the obvious pain of being penetrated and sliced, and even though it was only to save the boy he wished a friend, he did it all for him.
Roy gripped Archer’s shirt tighter and rolled his head back to press against his neck, nuzzling as he pumped and squeezed himself faster. He panted and grunted, starting to sweat again as he struggled to cum as quickly as possible.
His age, however, made quickness an issue. He had already cum once that night, and not all that long before, so while it felt absolutely delightful, it would be a battle of mind vs. body to get him to cum again. He panted and moaned, thrusting his hips forward into his hands, flexing and releasing around Archer’s throbbing erection.
With each thrust, Archer’s cock slid in and out of him and Archer’s mind swam, “Yess… fuck yourself on me,” he whispered into the ear of the lost Colonel. Archer bit the back of Roy’s neck and Roy tried to lean forward on his free hand and knees, but Archer held him fast with arm and knife.
“You love this, you love fucking yourself for Fullmetal,” Archer taunted and Roy moaned, pausing his pumping long enough to bring his palm to his face and lick it, before resuming. The thin coating of saliva provided a slicker slide and the sounds of flesh on flesh, breathy pants and moans filled the room.
Roy rolled his head away again, leaving his neck more open to Archer’s mouth who took full advantage, sucking and biting all along its white length, leaving dark bruises in places that would have to be blamed on some overeager woman-of-the-moment. Roy lengthened his strokes and ran his hand over his sensitive head with each pass, swiveling his hips, causing Archer’s cock to brush back and forth over his prostate.
Archer and Roy moaned at the same time from the sensation and Archer growled incoherent encouragements. He was getting impatient. He wanted nothing more than to push Roy into the mattress and fuck him senseless, but he would not end this madness until Roy had brought himself off for him. He wanted to feel him shudder in his arms, feel him tighten rhythmically around his cock, feel him shout as he came and know it was all for him. He wanted to have something truly mind reeling to file away in his memory bank, something he could really use against the man should he ever need to.
He peered over Roy’s shoulder and watched as his fist flew over his reddened shaft, groaning at the sight, “Are you imagining fucking him right now?” Archer breathed into the Colonel’s ear who shuddered and twitched, trying so hard to released the tension of the upcoming orgasm. “Are you imagining gripping that blond braid and fucking him?” Roy sobbed and ground down on Archer’s cock inside of him, “Or are you imagining grabbing his face and forcing him over your cock?” Roy gripped Archer’s shirt tighter, pulling the back of it from inside his pants.
“No!” he moaned, pumping and thrusting, beads of sweat running down his face.
“Yess,” Archer hissed his reply.
“No,” Roy moaned pitifully and bucked hard, fucking himself with longer strokes over Archer’s cock.
Archer thrust into him once, twice and Roy exploded with a howl, tensing and folding over himself as Archer threw the knife to the floor once again. He erupted in short spurts, panting heavily and grunting, sweat dropping off his face and onto the mattress before he collapsed into his own cum, sliding off of Archer in the process.
Archer could wait no longer. With Roy spent and on his stomach, he shoved himself back inside of him with unimaginable force and Roy howled in pain. Archer rested his full weight on Roy’s back, pushing the spent man’s chest and face into the mattress and fucking him savagely, causing Roy to groan and sob in agony.
It didn’t take long. Watching and feeling Roy fuck himself aroused him so much, in a little less than a minute, Archer pulled out and came all over Roy’s ass and back, panting and grunting.
Roy panted beneath him, eyes screwed shut and Archer stumbled into the bathroom once again to clean himself. His hair was matted with sweat and his uniform was soaked through in places. He washed the blood off his cock with another rag and tucked himself back into his pants before splashing water over his face and smoothing out his hair. Leaning on the edge of the sink, he smiled at himself in the mirror over his victory and then turned to leave, eyelids heavy with exhaustion over his two orgasms.
He brought the rag with him and tossed it onto Roy’s back, taking in the sight of his heaving back and the glistening dots of cum along the curve of his pale ass and lower back. While Roy caught his breath and pieced together his thoughts, Archer gathered his things: the discarded knife (which he cleaned off on Roy’s clothes), the neck brace and the broken gag, and dumped them all into the bag at the foot of the bed. After zipping the bag closed, he gathered Roy’s clothing and threw them onto the bed next to Roy, the shirt arm falling over Roy’s head.
He reached into his trouser pocket and produced the signed transfer order, resting it on the nightstand. “Give my regards to Fullmetal. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know that his virginity was given up in vain,” Archer chuckled, “Some savior,” He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, “I trust you’ll take care of the hotel bill? It’s in your name, after all.”
Archer turned to leave and Roy shifted on the bed, lifting his upper body on his arms, his head hanging down towards the mattress.
“Edward… did he… did you really…?” Roy’s voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, fearing that if he did, he would make it real. He twisted his body towards Archer and looked at him with tired eyes, glancing down at the folded paper on the nightstand.
Archer smiled at him and left.
Pairing: ArcherxRoy, implied ArcherxEd
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con, knife play, blood play, bondage, breath control, mental fuckery
Feedback: Please Read & Review
Disclaimer: Don\'t own FMA, ain\'t profiting. S\'all good.
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There was something in his eyes. Something resembling fear, but laced heavily with pride; it wasn’t what the Lieutenant Colonel was looking for. Archer wanted fear, plain and simple. Not that the man lying beneath him, slightly pinked and breathing heavily with wary anticipation, wasn’t a treat in itself, but fear, uncertainty, insecurity… these were the emotions he wanted to evoke, to pull from the man’s very core. He wanted to see him crack.
The man in question, the cool, collected Colonel Mustang, would most definitely need to be taught exactly what it was he had gotten himself into. His unnerving devotion to the Elric brothers is what put him there, and his ability to worm his way out of any situation is what he thought he could use to save his dignity, but really, the man didn’t know who it was he was dealing with.
Archer smiled.
He had Mustang exactly where he’d wanted him since first laying eyes on him at Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ funeral. Of course his reputation preceded him, but to see him in the flesh was far better than what his mind’s eye had created from the descriptions he had heard over the years.
There was something in the eyes of the man at that time too: a first glance appearance of calm collection, laced heavily with sadness. Archer had to hand it to him, the man knew how to compose himself, but it took someone as inspecting as himself to notice the true emotion behind the facade.
But here he was now, saving his two prodigal sons from the control of the ‘Bad Man’. Mustang’s arrogant pride kept him from expressing his true care for the boys and let his manipulative ways push them away, which consequently landed them right in Archer’s hands. Of course Mustang couldn’t have that. He knew Archer’s reputation as much as Archer knew his. He knew that letting the brothers be under the Lieutenant Colonel’s control meant sending them into all kinds of unnecessary dangers that they may or may not be able to save themselves from. They were his responsibility; he got Fullmetal into the military in the first place, he had to protect them. He owed it to them and to Hughes. If he couldn’t save his best friend, damn it, he was going to save these boys.
So, when he found out about their undermining of his authority to transfer into Archer’s control, well, he just couldn’t have that.
“Are you comfortable?” Archer asked, running his thin finger down the bridge of the man’s nose in a mocking gesture of affection.
Mustang’s eyelids twitched to a brief glare, but he said nothing.
Archer let his thumb slide over the black, oversized gag set firmly in place inside his willing captive’s mouth; it was secured around the back of his head by a heavy leather strap and prevented much noise from escaping at all. It made breathing through his mouth damn near impossible and it was probably a little more than uncomfortable.
“Don’t expect me to believe your lack of response is because of this, Roy,” He tapped the rubber ball holding the smooth, white jaw open, “I know for a fact that noise is capable of escaping this. Besides, there are other ways of expressing yourself.”
Mustang’s nostrils flared with a huff of indignation. He had agreed to this. Edward’s transfer had already been finalized behind his back and the only way to get him under his command again was with Archer’s approval. Playing along with the sadistic man’s games was in his best interest.
Mustang nodded his head slightly and slowly.
“Very good. I know you’ve probably never let yourself get into this position before… at least not with a man like me, or even a man at all for that matter. Your pride must be screaming,” he teased.
A twinkle of rebellion flickered past Roy’s eyes, but he said nothing.
Archer leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’d love to hear you scream sometime, Roy.”
No response.
Archer slid off the motel room bed and stood, stretching his arms over his head and eyeing his night’s pet. They had agreed to meet in the dingy inn just outside of Central to ensure privacy, but the lack of style just added to the atmosphere, really. Under any other circumstance, The Great Roy Mustang would never be caught dead in a place like this, good heavens no. The Connoisseur of chic? Ladies man extraordinaire? Agreeing to be bound and gagged in a seedy motel room with a man whom he outranked? The idea was laughable.
Archer inspected the metal handcuffs securing the man’s hands above his head to the rusted and paint-chipped headboard. They seemed a comfortable fit, so he tightened them until the metal rings bit into his skin.
Mustang shifted and Archer reached down to run his fingers through the Colonel’s black bangs, letting his thumb trail across his forehead.
“Too tight?” he asked sweetly.
Again, no response. Pity.
His captive was completely unreadable. There was no flash of annoyance in his eyes, no flush of anger in his cheeks, no indication what so ever that he was restraining his reactions out of pride or spite, but Archer knew he was. Oh, he had to be.
Archer let his hand slowly slide down the man’s cheek to his neck, chest and down to his legs, savoring the touch of his skin as he walked towards the foot of the bed. Mustang had already been stripped bare and was now laid out on his back for the world to see. His skin was pale, but not unattractively so, and much softer than one might guess for a man of his age and profession. There was a small, sparse patch of dark hair in the middle of his chest, and a thin line below his belly button that lead to a thick tuft around his flaccid and rather unimpressed cock. As his hand moved, he could feel the man’s muscles twitch beneath his skin.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts, Colonel?” Archer teased as he ran his hand between his captive’s legs, palming his balls, “Is this what they call the fight or flight response?” Mustang hitched in a breath at the contact and Archer chuckled.
Finally, a reaction he could read.
Really though, he was very nice to look at, it was no wonder women fell over themselves to be seen with him. He wasn’t all that muscular, but he was well defined- toned, even and what he lacked in physical strength, he made up for tenfold in cunningness and alchemic power.
Which reminded him…
Archer released Roy’s balls, much to the man’s relief, and rummaged through his pile of discarded clothing on the floor at the foot of the bed. When the proud Colonel had arrived at the motel room earlier, he was a little reluctant, to say the least, about stripping and laying down for a disembodied voice off the in the darkness of the rented room, even though he was well aware of what he had signed up for before their little tryst. Archer had left the room dark for his honored guest’s arrival in order to test the man, to see how willing he was, how much of himself he was prepared to give to ensure the safety of his almost-children. In the near-darkness, he had no idea if he was alone, he had no idea if he was putting himself in real danger, but he knew that if he screwed up, he’d never get the boys back.
Plus, a nice little verbal reminder by Archer about the vulnerability of Alphonse Elric’s blood array seemed to put the man’s priorities truly in check. He ended up disrobing quickly and neatly before climbing onto the musty bed. Archer of course would have liked a lengthier and more alluring showcase of the act in the dim light, but he had a lot more in store for the man and let it slide. He thought himself quite generous.
Archer rummaged, searching for the alchemist’s trademark spark gloves. It was explicitly stated that he was not to bring them with him. Archer did not need to give him any reason to think that he might be able to get out of this without fulfilling his end of the bargain. It had been decided that Mustang was to be his pet for the night in exchange for official command of Fullmetal (and subsequently, his younger brother). Archer was not going to let this opportunity pass him by, no glove was going to ruin his fun.
He was almost satisfied until he came upon the man’s shoes. Tucked inside, he found one, only one, of Roy’s little weapons. How foolish.
He stood, holding the piece of cloth in his hand like a prize. “Excellent place for this, Colonel. What exactly did you think you’d be able to do with it over here, while you’re all the way over there?” He swung the glove around on his finger, mischief in his eyes.
Mustang lifted his head off the bed to see what he was talking about, narrowed his eyes with recognition of his found glove, then let his head fall back onto the pillowless and sheetless bed.
Archer let a smirk cut through his face while walking back up to the head of the bed where the Colonel would be able to see him easier. Standing on the discarded bed pillow with one knee up on the bare mattress, he held the glove directly in Roy’s line of vision, ensuring the man’s full attention, then reached into his uniform boot and procured a long, ornate knife. He made quite a show of slowly slicing the glove into useless scraps, paying extra care to make sure the signature salamander array was thoroughly destroyed.
Roy didn’t even flinch and that unnerved Archer. The lack of cooperation needed to be dealt with.
Dropping the glove scraps to the floor and setting his knife on the bedside table, he walked back to the foot of the bed and opened the duffle bag he brought with him, his housing for the evening’s toys. He pulled out a rather complicated looking contraption, made of cold metal and leather straps, and brought it back up to the head of the bed.
He spent a few minutes securing the apparatus in place, stood back and inspected his handiwork. It was a rather interesting piece. Designed for posture control, it consisted of an adjustable metal ring with two equally adjustable supporting bars connected to it perpendicularly; the ends of which were welded to curved supports that rested around the tops of Roy’s shoulders. The shoulder supports were also held in place around Roy’s upper chest, under the arms, by a leather strap to prevent them from sliding off his shoulders. The adjustable ring fit snugly underneath Roy’s jaw line and around the base of his skull, straightening his neck and lifting his chin slightly, rendering his head nearly immobile, which prevented him from being able to see what his captor was doing to him further down his body.
It was ingenious, really. A blindfold would have worked just as well, but it would have also left Archer equally blind to read his pet’s eyes, and though it looked rather complicated and almost medieval, once he attached all the confusing parts, he could see why he chose it over the standard neck brace.
Its function was the same as any other, immobilizing his head, except this one left the tender flesh of the Colonel’s neck exposed and vulnerable, and that very same Colonel knew it.
Of course if Roy had known what it was from all the confusing parts, he would have never had been so compliant with its application. Once he realized what had been attached to him, he squirmed the best he could, but it was already too late.
Archer sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned across Mustang’s abdomen, his head cradled in one hand, idly running the fingers of his other hand over the man’s skin.
Mustang’s brows were furrowed. He looked even more uncomfortable than before, what with the gag forcing his jaw open and the brace tilting his head back, but it was necessary. He needed to be shown who was in charge.
“You know, I wouldn’t have had to do that to you if you would just swallow your pride and cooperate. I’m beginning to wonder if you really want your precious boys back at all,” Archer let his fingers dance over to a small nipple, and Mustang’s eyes, which had been previously boring a hole into the ceiling, shot to Archer’s face, or as much of Archer’s face as he could see with his head at the angle it was.
“Why are you doing this, anyway?” The Lieutenant Colonel asked, knowing full well his captive was incapable of answering, “You think I’ll let those boys be harmed?” There was a pause as he lightly caressed Mustang’s sensitive flesh, running his thumb over the small nub of his nipple. Roy thought it almost nice. Almost. “I don’t know, I probably would. They’re entirely too young to be messing around with military business, anyway. What were you thinking, allowing him to enlist?”
He moved his hand across Roy’s chest to tease his other nipple and the man averted his eyes.
“You know, if you hadn’t baited Fullmetal into joining, your precious Hughes would probably still be alive,” Mustang’s eyes shot back towards his face, brows furrowed in anger. Archer leaned over the Colonel’s head into his full line of vision, lightly pinching the nipple between his fingers, “So concerned with gaining the support of the higher ups… it’s your fault he was killed, Colonel, Roy. You know he was inspecting the Lab 5 incident, Fullmetal’s little soiree with the unknown.”
The man in question clamped his eyes shut, breathing heavily as if willing the concept out of his mind.
It was lovely.
“Yes, you do know that, don’t you. Poor little Elysia, growing up without her father. Oh and how she cried at the funeral,” Archer chuckled quietly, as if remembering a fond memory, continuing to caress his temporary lover’s flesh, “They’re both alone now because of you, Elysia and her mother. Maybe I should pay them a visit after we’re done here, let them know they’re in my thoughts.”
Mustang growled and his eyes shot open again in anger. Archer leaned down to mouth one nipple while the other was still pinched between boney fingers, and the Colonel growled louder again to make sure he got his point across.
Archer flicked his tongue over a hardening nipple. He wasn’t sure if the growl was over his comment of his dead friend’s wife and family, or the fact that his body seemed to be enjoying his current ministrations, but either way, the back talk wouldn’t do.
Archer lifted his head and locked eyes with the Colonel who eyed him defiantly, “Now Roy,” he crawled up fully onto the bed and straddled the man’s hips, placing his hands flat on the mattress on both sides of Mustang’s restrained head, “I would conserve that air if I were you.”
Archer lifted his hand and pinched the Colonel’s nose shut. A glorious look of alarm flashed through his eyes as he struggled unsuccessfully to breathe around the gag in his mouth. Archer held his nose closed until his face began to turn red, then released it, letting him pant heavily.
He loved seeing the man like this, completely helpless and vulnerable to something as small and simple as his nose. He let him get in a few deep breaths, then as he exhaled, Archer pinched his nose shut again and enjoyed the ride as Roy bucked his hips in an attempt to end the assault on his precious air supply.
His bucking had a directly opposing effect than what he was striving for, however. Forcing his hips upward not only rubbed Archer’s crotch delightfully, but it wasted oxygen and he sped the suffocation process considerably.
Archer let his face get a bit redder this time before releasing him, and let him pant a few less times before closing off his nose again on the next exhale. This time, he didn’t struggle. Ah yes, he’s learning.
As Mustang’s eyes watered and his face turned crimson, Archer ground the hardening erection in his pants against the lower man’s pelvis and leaned down to run his tongue along the edge of his Colonel’s jaw, where skin met metal.
“You’re beautiful when you’re dying, you know,” Archer whispered into his ear, releasing his nose. He extended his tongue to a red earlobe and paused to flick it before biting and sucking gently, “Do you hate me for this?” he murmured into the ear, nuzzling Roy’s hair with his nose as he ground his erection into the naked man’s hip.
Roy’s only response was to gather as much air into his lungs as he could. Archer lifted his hand and pretended to go for his nose again for the sheer purpose of watching the beautiful fear dance across the poor man’s eyes, but he patted his flushed cheek instead, earning him an equally beautiful look of anger.
“Don’t be angry, Roy. Remember, you’re here of your own free will,” The Colonel glanced around the room wildly, tugging on his restraints and testing the limits of the neck brace, finding that neither allowed for much give. Archer watched, slightly amused and more than slightly annoyed at the insubordination, “You can’t get out of this until I’m through with you, and neither can Fullmetal, so I suggest you try to enjoy this,” he snapped.
Roy’s eyes all but bugged in disbelief and he offered a muffled sound of exasperation. Archer smiled at his reaction and he reached for the knife discarded on the side table. When it was brought into Roy’s view, he stiffened, eyes wide. He knew that agreeing to be bound and gagged meant some sort of domination play, but the knife was something he most definitely had not expected.
“You’re such a noble creature, Roy, offering your body in exchange for the safety of Fullmetal and his tin can of a brother,” Archer turned the knife around in his hand, admiring the way the dim light glinted off the blade’s oiled surface, “to think that you’d go through so much trouble for them,” He brought the knifepoint down to the Colonel’s neck, “Really, what makes them so special?”
Roy panted, eyes wild, as Archer slowly scratched the cold point down his jugular vein. He trailed the tip down over the leather strap of the brace to his breastbone, leaving a stinging, red line on the alchemist’s fair skin. He paused there and ground his pelvis as he flattened the blade to Mustang’s chest and slid it over to his right nipple, letting the cold harden it further before repeating the action on the left one. Roy’s eyes had become less alarmed when he realized he wasn’t going to be sliced, but he was still visibly uneasy.
Archer slid his still-clothed body down the Colonel’s abdomen and straddled his knees, leaning down to trail his lips and tongue along a hairless stomach as he drew the knifepoint further down his pale skin in a languid, winding line. Slowly, unnervingly slowly, he moved until the flat of the blade laid against his disinterested cock.
The alarm that had escaped Roy’s eyes returned tenfold, his breathing was quick and shallow, and a light sheen formed over his exposed neck and chest. The salt in the fresh scratches caused them to burn considerably more.
“Oh come now, Colonel. You don’t think I’d harm you here before I’ve had my fun, do you?” Archer teased, “What good would that do me?”
It wasn’t a promise to not harm him there, it was a promise to not harm him there yet and Roy fully recognized this. He slid the flat of the blade around his cock and under it, making sure to keep the sharpened edge away from doing any damage, teasing him with the cold. Mustang struggled to keep his lower half still, while at the same time trying to lift his upper half to see what was being done to him. He wouldn’t have been able to stop it, but not being blind to the action was better than nothing. The awkward position of his arms, coupled with the neck brace, made that impossible though and he let loose a strangled, grunting sound of frustration.
Archer slid his feet between Roy’s legs to open them wider. At first Roy resisted, but the insistent press of cold metal in his most sensitive of areas changed his mind. Archer lifted his knees over Mustang’s slightly spread legs, now kneeling between them. With one hand holding a knife circling the Colonel’s balls and the other hand rubbing circles on the man’s stomach, Archer leaned down close to Roy and breathed deeply, trailing his tongue alone the juncture of his groin and left leg.
“You’re trembling, Colonel,” he whispered, resting his cheek on Roy’s thigh, his breath slightly ruffling the dark curls, “You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you.” His soft words did nothing to reassure the alchemist trapped below him and Archer scratched the knifepoint from the sensitive flesh beneath Roy’s cock to his right inner thigh, pressing harder than he had before. Roy’s leg twitched and opened wider to escape the burning sensation, but he ended up at his stretching capacity before he could escape the blade, unable to move his leg any further away. Archer twisted the knife and pressed in, down the sensitive flesh of Roy’s thigh in a straight, shallow line, drawing beads of blood as he went. Roy heaved in a breath and held it, struggling to keep still and silent, as to not make the cut deeper than his torturer intended.
“Are you still afraid that I’ll hurt you?” Archer’s voice was low and it trailed off at the end, filled with an overwhelming heat as he slowly licked the wound on Roy’s leg, savoring the taste of blood and skin. The saliva and the rough texture of his tongue increasing the sting as Archer scratched his nails down Roy’s heaving belly, slicked with sweat.
He raised the knife again and as he slid it into the Colonel’s skin the second time, down his inner thigh and slightly deeper, he moved his right hand off Roy’s trembling stomach to cup and massage his balls. This time, as soon as the blade left his flesh, Roy flat out squirmed. His legs were trembling still, and his breath was quick as he bucked his hips and attempted to close his legs, trying to save his masculinity from the searing blade, but Archer just chuckled and held his legs down, pulling them together to straddle once again. Having his legs closed, the two cuts came in contact with his groin and opposite thigh, and his sweat stung them further.
“Is the great hero of the Eastern Rebellion squirming from a little flesh wound?” he mocked, cutting his captive slowly across his lower belly from hip to hip in a slight, frowning arc, inciting a low and muffled whine from behind the gag. As he leaned down to taste the newest wound, he slid his hand up and over the already wounded thigh, to grip Mustang’s limp cock.
“Before this night is over, Colonel,” he dragged the knife down the top Roy’s left thigh, cutting as he went, “I will make you whine in pleasure,” he left another shallow, bleeding gash as he tugged gently at Roy’s cock. Archer’s own was set to full-on pound, trapped within the confines of his regulation trousers and the Colonel could only snarl in disbelief.
Two more slices, perpendicular to the last, were cut down Archer’s captive’s thigh as he increased the tug on the man’s cock. So far, his ministrations there were unsuccessful, but then again, he wasn’t really trying.
As he massaged the irresponsive flesh in his hand, he slid his body down Mustang’s legs again, pinning them down completely with his body. His head was now in line with Roy’s thighs and turned his head to run is tongue along the fresh wounds, pausing to roughly suck and nibble at the dots of blood, drawing more blood to the surface and leaving bruises in places.
The attention caused the wounds to sting more painfully and the Colonel whined again, causing Archer to smile into the reddened thigh, making sure Roy could feel his grin on his swelling skin. He slowly dotted his nibbles towards Roy’s cock, where he lapped at it lazily with his blood-stained tongue as he ran is hands roughly over the man’s burning lap, now sticky with drying blood and spit.
If Roy could have, he would have shaken his head in disbelief. There was no way in hell this madman was going to turn him on, no way in hell. He was not there for pleasure, he was there for two orphan geniuses and one dead father and their little meeting bordered so precariously on rape that he couldn’t possibly imagine enjoying himself, even though he knew that not cooperating to the fullest would probably just prolong the torture. His pride and need for absolution for his failures outweighed his common sense, however, and no matter what this man did to him, he would not let his body enjoy it. He would not give in. He was an alchemist, damn it! A creature of will, a picture of mental strength! Fight it!
As if he could hear the Colonel’s thoughts, Archer stuck the knife into the mattress and dug his nails up the outside of Roy’s legs, from his knees to his hips, as he took the tip of the man’s cock into his mouth, sucking forcefully and teasing the underside with his tongue. Leaving one hand to knead a still shaking hip, he raked his nails down the trembling leg once again, to underneath Mustang’s cock, where he gently continued massaging his balls, cupping them and rolling them in firm circles.
Archer could almost feel the inner turmoil. The one thing the Lieutenant Colonel found he loved most about men was the ease at which their bodies betrayed them. Women, while physically weaker, were much harder to break; their emotions and minds were linked to their sexuality by a much stronger tie. Men on the other hand, were more given to animalistic need and it was this knowledge that he loved to exploit, to take the proud and unwilling, and force them into submission. Force them from fear and trepidation, to desire and craving, to complete and utter shame.
His own cock twitched as he felt the one in his mouth slowly give in and he took more, sucking insistently and bathing it with his tongue, enjoying the taste of the man’s skin as well as the lingering hint of metallic blood.
Archer felt the legs beneath him flex as a tremor coursed through Roy’s body. His breathing became more consistent and focused; he inhaled shallowly and exhaled deeply, as if attempting to will off the inevitable. Archer patiently rolled the man’s balls and tugged the cock with his mouth, sucking harder until it eventually stood proudly on its own.
Roy’s neck glistened and he visibly swallowed in between labored breaths, but he made no noise and laid perfectly still. It was almost as if he were trying to hide the fact that his body had ideas entirely opposite of his own, but there was no getting around the hard shaft of flesh sliding between the Lieutenant Colonel’s lips.
Archer leaned forward and slid his hand from Roy’s hip up to his chest to flick his fingers over a hardened nipple. The change in position caused his hair to tickle the swelling cut on Roy’s lower belly as he slowly bobbed his head up and down the slick, taut flesh of the Colonel’s cock. With one hand massaging his balls, the other teasing his chest and a warm mouth sucking his cock with earnest, it had become impossible to ignore the pleasure even though his lap and stomach burned, his jaw ached and his arms tingled with lack of circulation. Roy breathed a quiet moan and rolled his hips.
Archer let Roy’s cock fall from his mouth with a slurping pop. He moved the hand caressing the man’s balls upward to grip the shaft and tease the head with his thumb as he moved his body up over Roy’s to take in the delightful expressions playing across his flushed face. His eyes were screwed shut, his teeth bit into the gag in his mouth and beads of sweat glistened across his forehead. He struggled valiantly with his own body as it turned a deaf ear to its mind.
Archer moved his hand down the shaft and fisted it tightly, pumping him as he watched the sensations play across the Colonel’s face. He rested his free hand flat on the mattress next to the Colonel’s shoulder and continued to pump in firm, upward strokes, crooning softly to the higher ranking officer beneath him.
“You’re loving this. I can feel it in my hand, Colonel,” he whispered. Roy tried to turn his head away from the voice above him, but the brace prevented that. “You can’t deny it,” Archer increased the speed of his hand and gripped him tighter, “Give in to me, cum for me.”
Gripping the poor alchemist’s cock tighter, Archer leaned down to trail his tongue along the upturned, sensitive skin of the struggling man’s inner arm. Roy groaned in denial, his breathing hard and erratic, as Archer continued his slow trail down over the support on Mustang’s shoulder, pausing to nip at his collarbone before quickly flicking his tongue over one hard nipple and then the other. Roy reflexively arched his chest up to the touch before catching himself and retreating quickly, moaning quietly to himself in disapproval.
Archer danced his tongue up the man’s chest and over the long, red scratch on his neck, nipping gently everywhere the supports of the brace did not obstruct him. Mustang’s eyes opened and he panted heavily, jaw tightening around the gag, hips bucking up to the strong tug between his legs.
Mustang whined high and long as Archer draped a leg over his. He ground the prominent bulge in his uniform against the swollen flesh of Roy’s thigh, but then released the man’s erection and Roy growled in frustration. He yanked violently on his restraints, which did nothing but pinch his wrists more, and Archer groaned in approval with his mouth over Mustang’s Adam’s apple, causing a slight vibration to course its way through the strained and sweating neck.
He slid the hand previously gripped around Roy’s cock lower and pressed his heavy balls upwards, “Oh you want to cum so much, don’t you Colonel,” he husked to the man below him, “what would Fullmetal think of you now? Look at you, writhing under my touch,” Mustang moaned pitifully, eyes rolling as feather-light touches ran up and down the underside of his cock, “what would Hughes say to his pathetic slut of a friend,” a thumb slid over the sensitive ridge on the head of his erection and he bucked his hips to the touch, sobbing with eyes shut, brows furrowed. “Would he be proud of you? Thankful?” Archer asked, thumbing the slit slowly. He leaned down close to struggling alchemist’s ear, “Are you thinking of him as you throb under my touch?” he whispered evilly, “of Gracia?” he gripped his cock again and pumped slowly, “of little Elysia?” Mustang sobbed around the gag as his hips bucked rhythmically, trying to increase the friction, but Archer’s fist continued its torturous crawl.
“Fullmetal flushed just the way you are now, you know,” he murmured into Mustang’s ear and the man’s eyes flew open again in confusion, “He was so determined to remove himself from your command, he said he’d do anything,” two quick tugs, then a teasing thumb over the head, “What did you do to that boy to make him hate you so much?” Mustang growled in denial as Archer mouthed his earlobe, “he’s very tight, Roy. When you get him back, you should try him,” Roy sobbed, “and so beautiful,” Archer gripped the man’s cock and pumped it hard and fast, “even more beautiful when he cries,” he thrust his own erection against Roy’s side in time with his pulls as Roy bucked and writhed, eyes clamped shut, agony and pleasure dancing all across his glistening face, moaning miserably.
“Cum for me,” Archer hissed into Mustang’s ear. He licked and teased the skin behind it, sending chills down Roy’s spine, “Cum for Ed…” Roy let loose a loud groan and came violently, his stomach muscles tensing and contracting as they were splashed with cum. Archer hissed his approval in his ear as he milked the flagging cock for all its worth, the last drops dripping into the gash across his stomach, renewing the burn from earlier.
Roy panted and paid the sting no mind; he had no time to enjoy the glow of his release, because after his aroused need had passed, the reality set in. He gave into the man above him, his body betrayed him and the boy he had charged himself to protect had been marred by way of his careless and pride-drenched actions. It couldn’t be true! Not Edward!
This wasn’t absolution, this wasn’t some noble martyrdom; this was hell.
Archer watched the man below him catch his breath, his face no longer displaying agonizing bliss, but wiped clean of emotion with a good dose of reality. “That must have been nice. It was nice, wasn’t it Colonel?” Archer studied the stoic face below him, “You were very good, a very good boy,” he wiped his cum-drenched hand across the Colonel’s heaving belly and reached up to undo the brace around his neck, “good behavior brings rewards, see?” As Archer undid the straps and fasteners, Mustang almost wished he wouldn’t, even though it was digging painfully into the back of his head and causing his neck and upper shoulders to stiffen into knots. He didn’t want to be “rewarded” for his unwilling actions; he didn’t want to make this easier for him to bear. He wanted it to be as terrible as he felt inside; he wanted the outer pain to hurt as much as the inner. Little did the Colonel know, Archer understood this completely and had even anticipated it. First is the fear and trepidation, next is the desire and craving, last is the guilt and shame, along with the agonizing embrace of punishment. Mustang didn’t know it, but with his want for pain, he had been broken, even if only for the night.
Once the brace was removed and dropped to the floor, Roy promptly turned his head away from the scrutiny of the man above him as long fingers combed through his sweat-dampened hair. A finger wound around one clump of hair, tugging playfully, “I removed that brace for you. You don’t look pleased,” Archer asked, voice threatening. The tone elicited no reaction, so he reached back and dislodged the forgotten blade from the mattress, bringing it up to Roy’s chin and using the flat side to tilt the flushed face to his, but Roy’s eyes remained averted. Archer smirked in success. There was no more defiance, no fire behind the man’s eyes. Sure his strength in everyday life and battle was unsurpassed, but right now his strength had run out. His pride was shattered and Archer relished in it.
He removed the knife and let Roy’s head fall back to the side, resting the weapon on the chest below him while he undid the button of his pants. He wasn’t interested in turning their play into anything resembling intimacy, so he didn’t bother to remove them entirely, he just pulled his erection free and swiped his hand through the sticky mess on Mustang’s stomach before bringing it to his own cock and pumping it, covering it with semen.
“I did it this way for Fullmetal too,” he husked, relishing in the long awaited touch, involuntarily bucking his hips slightly. Roy hitched in a breath at the mention of his subordinate again, clinching his eyes shut and trying to block out the images that played through his head. “It really was just a matter of impatience then,” Archer continued his verbal torture, “There’s nothing more arousing than seeing those little blonde curls matted down with sweat and cum… you really ought to see it sometime, or have you already?” Archer grinned at the responding grimace, “He’s as much of a firecracker in bed as he is out of it,” Roy groaned in denial, “But now, I see this as more of a way to use your own pleasure against you, hmm?” He knelt between Roy’s legs and hooked one over his shoulder, positioning himself at Roy’s opening and starting to push. Naturally, Roy tensed and Archer leaned down close to his ear to lick and whisper, “It’s a good thing you came so much. It’s not the best lube, but it will still hurt less. You should thank me.” He pushed further, sinking the head inside and Roy growled around the gag in pain.
Archer moaned his approval at the loud reaction, holding still with just the head sunk tight beyond Roy’s muscles, “Oh now Colonel, it can’t hurt that bad. Fullmetal didn’t scream like this… but I guess automail hurts more,” He ran his tongue along the outer shell of the trembling man’s ear and down to the protruding tendon of his side-twisted neck, “I had to uncouple his leg… well I didn’t have to, I wanted to. Putting it back on? THAT was a scream…” He moved to push further and Roy whined lowly, swinging his head and eyes to plead with Archer to stop. The cum coating on his impatient cock was thin to begin with and it had started to get sticky, which did nothing to lessen the pain like he promised.
Archer studied the eyes below him and smiled slightly as he pulled out. The relief that played across Roy’s face was amusing, but it wouldn’t last long. Archer reached to the floor by the old hotel bed and picked up the discarded pillow, grabbed Roy by the bangs and lifted his head forward to shove the pillow underneath. Roy winced at the sudden pull of his hair and watched in confusion as Archer lifted the knife from his own chest, into his view again.
“You protest beautifully, I think I’d like to really hear it, Colonel,” he slid the knife carefully between Roy’s cheek and the leather strap of the gag, sawing through back and forth until it popped free, “If you cause a problem,” he said lowly, letting Roy see the seriousness in his eyes, “you already know that I am perfectly capable of using this,” he tapped the flat of the blade against Roy’s nose for emphasis before resting it on the Colonel’s chest again and removed the gag from his mouth; Roy flexed his sore jaw, but said nothing, eyeing Archer warily, “Now, isn’t that better?” Archer asked, “That’s one more favor I did you, Colonel. You’re a lucky man, Fullmetal would be jealous.”
A look of pain splayed across Roy’s features as Archer reached down to run his hand over his own cock, finding that the makeshift lube he applied there earlier had gone from sticky to basically dry. He leaned back on his haunches and ran his fingers over the throbbing head of his erection and a drop of pre-cum glistened in his slit, but it wasn’t enough.
“We’ve got a problem, Colonel. This seems to have gone dry,” he said, teasing his cock for the man below him, “So you’ve two choices. You can either take it dry, or you can fix the problem yourself. Your call,” he smiled evilly.
Roy wasn’t quick to respond and Archer made the most obvious assumption, “Dry? Brave man,” he moved forward as if to force himself inside again and Roy quickly understood the consequences of his unwillingness to respond.
“No!” Roy’s voice was hoarse and dry from the gag, his jaw sore, “Not dry,” he grated out.
Archer let a slow smile spread across his face as he stared down at the man below him, whose eyes still remained averted. The lack of action on Archer’s behalf caused him to finally glance in his direction, and Archer’s smile spread further at the eye contact, “Excellent choice, Colonel.”
Again, Roy looked away.
Archer crawled up Roy’s body, picking up the knife as he moved, and straddled his chest, resting his knees on the mattress next to Roy’s arms. He bumped the underside of his cock against Roy’s nose and watched it twitch with anticipation, then reached down and rested the blunt edge of the knife against Roy’s neck. It may not have been capable of cutting his flesh, but it was thin enough that Roy wouldn’t be able to tell the difference; all he felt was cold, threatening metal against a vital and vulnerable part of his body. If he was smart, he wouldn’t take any chances.
“If you bite, you will die. Do you understand me,” he threatened, rubbing his cock against the man’s chin and pressing the knife into his neck to emphasize. Roy nodded his head in response, involuntarily nuzzling Archer’s cock with his face.
With one arm supporting him on the headboard, and one hand holding the weapon against Roy’s neck, Archer swung his hips backwards, changing the direction of his cock and aiming it further down towards the warm mouth below.
“Open wide, Colonel,” he said, amusedly, “You’re doing this for your own good, I suggest you make it worth the effort.” Roy screwed his eyes shut for a few moments and then opened them, determination in his eyes. Archer’s cock bumped his mouth insistently and he opened it slowly, his jaw weak and trembling, to let Archer navigate his cock inside. He slid it in slowly, the tip rubbing along the ridged surface of Mustang’s upper mouth as his hot breath caressed and welcomed him.
Roy closed his lips around Archer’s cock and concentrated on breathing as it pumped in and out of his mouth. After a few deeper thrusts, he gagged and Archer pulled out to let him regain his composure. Roy looked up at the towering form above his head and mumbled hopefully between coughs, “If you untie my hands, I can make this better for you…”
Archer chuckled and twisted his hips sharply, slapping his cock against Roy’s cheek, “I’m not that stupid, Colonel,” he spat, “Besides, I rather like you tied down like a dog,” he said with a grin.
Roy opened his mouth to protest, but Archer seized the opportunity and slid back inside, holding it inside a little deeper than before. “Yesss, that’s it. Get it nice and wet,” he whispered as he slid slowly and deeply in and out of Roy’s mouth, “Get me ready for you.”
Roy slid his tongue all around the underside of Archer’s cock, sucking hard as his jaw trembled under the strain. He hoped that if he could do a good enough job with his mouth, maybe he could prevent the rest of Archer’s plans, saving his more sensitive parts from further violation.
Archer groaned at the suction. He let his forehead fall to rest on his arm on the headboard and watched his cock slide glistening in and out of Roy’s mouth. He moaned again as he watched the man’s throat work, expanding against the knife pressed dangerously against it as Archer sunk himself deeper.
He rocked his hips quickly, enjoying the feeling of his balls slapping against the Colonel’s smooth chin. He sunk himself down Mustang’s throat to the hilt and ground against him deeply, feeling his cock swirl inside his mouth and his balls roll against his chin. His breathing became erratic as Roy suckled him determinedly, and then abruptly, Archer pulled out. “I think you’ve done this before,” he said, breathless, “but you’re not getting out of this that easily.”
He quickly slid back down Roy’s body, letting the knife rest momentarily on the man’s stomach below him while he spit onto his fingers. He roughly lifted Roy’s legs at the knees and spread them as wide as they would go, briefly enjoying the view of the Colonel, the powerful Flame Alchemist, tied and spread wide for him, glistening with sticky sweat and dried cum, chest heaving slightly as he tried to catch his breath, his lips red and swollen. He smeared the spit in his hand against Roy’s opening, roughly inserting the tip of his finger, causing Roy to grimace. Satisfied that he was as wet as he was going to get, he spit into his hand again and pumped his cock quickly before settling down and pressing himself in.
He went slowly, but it was far from gentle. Roy bared his teeth in pain and pressed his head back into the pillow, letting a groan escape his throat as he was stretched. The saliva provided very little comfort, but it was still better than nothing, and slightly better than before.
Archer forced himself further in, not even pausing to let Roy adjust. The thin consistency of the saliva he used as lubrication did not provide a smooth glide, but lord did it feel good. The warmth, the tightness, the hissing intake of breath as Roy battled the pain and struggled to relax… it was heaven. Archer panted and groaned, throwing his head back as his cock was buried further inside Roy’s body, struggling himself to keep his calm.
“You’re almost as tight as Fullmetal,” he gasped as he reached the hilt. “Though I imagine he’s not as tight anymore,” he said with a laugh.
“You’re lying,” Mustang growled through the pain. His inner fire had returned with the mention of Edward and with the gag out of place, he was finally able to voice what he’d been thinking.
Archer released Roy’s right leg and leaned forward, his hand steadying himself on the mattress with Roy’s left leg hooked over his shoulder. He grabbed the knife off of Roy’s stomach as he moved and pressed the blunt edge to the restrained man’s neck again, causing Roy to lean back into the pillow at the contact.
“You think I’m lying?” he spat as he pulled almost all the way out of Roy and thrust back in savagely. Roy growled through the pain, tilting his head back and away from the man above him, “He cried for his mother while I fucked him,” another savage thrust, “and for his brother,” another again, “Though it didn’t last very long, he passed out before I could really enjoy myself,” Archer quickened his pace and Roy grunted painfully in time with the thrusts, baring his teeth, “If you had paid more attention to him, you might have noticed,” he thrust in all the way and ground into Roy, “he hobbled the next day, though he tried so hard to hide it,” he said with a chuckle and let his head fall to watch himself slam in and out of Roy, groaning involuntarily at the sight.
“Just get it over with,” Roy growled, “you got what you wanted!” His last syllable heaved into a groan he was assaulted with a more brutal thrust. Archer leaned down and ran his tongue across Roy’s dry lips, “The more you beg, the longer it lasts,” he breathed, biting the lower lip gently while he assaulted Roy’s insides.
“Goddamn it! Stop fucking around! You got what you wanted!” Roy howled, his head tilted back, trying to get away from the mouth and tongue teasing his lips and anger played across Archer’s face as he pushed himself back up and away. He moved the knife from Roy’s neck and positioned it over Roy’s face, point down.
Roy gasped at the quick motion, his eyes widening in fear at the knife so close and threatening. Archer glared down at him with teeth bared as he thrust and stabbed the knife down into the mattress, dangerously close to Roy’s head. The blade grazed the shell of his ear, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake and Roy panted in shock.
Archer released Roy’s leg from his shoulder and simultaneously pulled out, leaning up on his knees and reaching over to the nightstand for the handcuff keys. Roy’s eyes followed the motion and he his mind reeled. Was he being let go?
Archer grabbed the knife again as he raised himself off of Roy’s body. Holding the knife against Roy’s neck again, he unlocked one of the handcuffs and dropped the keys into his pocket. Leaving enough room underneath him for Roy to maneuver himself, he growled down to the man below him, “Try to run and I’ll kill you. Flip over.”
Whatever hope had crawled into Roy’s eyes disappeared rather quickly. He tested the freedom of his hands and found he could pull them away from the headboard, “I said flip,” Archer said coldly. The man below him swallowed visibly and moved to twist his body slowly; with the knife pressed against his neck, he wanted to make no sudden movements. “Faster!” The incensed man growled, releasing the pressure on Roy’s neck and grabbing his hair with his free hand. The yanking on his head was not doing anything to help him flip his body over, but Archer was driven by rage.
With some grunting and maneuvering on both their parts, Roy ended up on his stomach with Archer straddling his back on his knees, which did nothing for the pain of his cuts. Archer reached under Roy’s head and whipped the pillow away, throwing it across the room and into the window. He slammed the Colonel’s cheek into the mattress and held the knife against his face, “Handcuff yourself,” he spat.
The angle of his head made it difficult for him to be able to see what he was doing and he struggled, fumbling with fear. Archer, impatient, grabbed the man’s hair again, forcing his head up so he could see, holding the knife savagely against his throat causing Roy to hiss in pain. “DO IT!” he growled.
Roy managed to get the cuff hooked around the headboard bar and back on his own wrist. Satisfied that his captive wasn’t going anywhere, Archer threw the knife to the floor and pushed Roy’s head into the mattress, using it to brace his weight as he slid himself back down towards Roy’s legs. He then grabbed the prone man’s sides and heaved upwards, “On your knees, Colonel,” he grated, and Roy brought himself up the best he could, using his head and shoulders as leverage, until his ass stood in the air in front of Archer. He tried to lift his upper body on his arms, but Archer slammed the back of his neck down as he used his own knees to part Roy’s legs.
He pumped his cock a few times and shoved in quickly. Roy howled in pain as his bruised and dry ass was once again assaulted. “I told you to cooperate,” Archer growled with emphasis as he slammed into Roy, “I made this easy for you,” he grabbed Roy’s hips as the bed slammed into the wall, “but you still,” slam, Roy grunted in pain with each thrust, “don’t know,” slam, “your place!”
He grabbed Roy’s hair again, forcing him to arch his back painfully, “You’re an alchemist,” slam “this is equivalent,” slam, “EXCHANGE!” slam.
Roy tried to stifle the moans of pain, but it was too much to bear. His back was slicked with sweat and his hair was matted and clumped against the back of his neck. With each thrust, he was shoved towards the headboard and eventually his cheek was pressed against it painfully, slamming into it as it struck the wall.
Archer’s thrusts and breathing were becoming more erratic. He released Roy’s hair and grabbed his hips again, pulling them back onto him with each thrust, trying to bury himself as deep as he possibly could, and Roy knew that it was almost over.
Soon, he gave his last few brutal thrusts and buried himself deep inside Roy, gripping his hips painfully tight and howling his release. Roy moaned and panted in relief as Archer pulled out of him and was then shoved back down onto the bed as Archer left him, stumbling into the bathroom to clean himself. He found traces of blood on his pants as well as his flagging erection; Roy would definitely be feeling it in the morning.
In the bare-bulb light of the bathroom, he regained his breath before wetting a washcloth rag and wiping the sweat off his brow and neck, smiling to himself smugly in the dirty mirror. After then cleaning the blood off everywhere he could, he rinsed the rag and soaked it with warm water before walking back into the room proper and over to the figure of Roy, curled into himself on his side on the bed, his back to the bathroom. His hands were cuffed to the rusted rungs of the headboard at an odd angle and his head laid in his arms the best it could. His knees were drawn up to his stomach in a trembling fetal position and Archer could see the wetness glistening between his thighs.
Archer walked around to the other side of the bed, limp cock still exposed, wet rag in hand, and kneeled on the floor, looking at Roy. The broken alchemist knew he was there, but he didn’t acknowledge him and that was just fine for the time being. Archer reached out his hand and ran fingers through tousled, black hair, the pad of his thumb running over the man’s cheek, and Roy flinched behind closed lids.
“You were behaving yourself so well,” he said to Roy, “I was going to let you go, but not after that little bout of back talk. You’re mine for a little while longer.”
Roy breathed slowly and tiredly, his brow furrowing in frustrated fatigue.
Smirking, Archer reached down to stretch Roy’s legs out to clean his wounds. Infections would attract attention, and attention to these wounds would attract questions- questions that did not need to be asked. This night did not need to be mentioned by either man involved; it would serve neither of them any good. For Roy, it would not only destroy his pride and reputation, but he would run the risk of being disciplined for fraternizing with a lower ranking officer, and a male one, no less. Sodomy was a crime and while it wasn’t usually enforced among the general populace, in the military it was still a serious issue. For Archer, he’d most definitely be tried for blackmail, sodomy as well, and if his horrid tales of using Edward were true, sexual molestation of a minor. Of course Archer’s list of crimes was more severe, but with Roy’s agenda and the reputation he worked so hard to build, Archer wasn’t too concerned about being exposed. The Great Roy Mustang would never admit to humiliating himself like this.
As Roy’s legs were stretched out, he grimaced and hissed. He had been lying in his curled position for a bit and his wounds had gotten used to the position. When his skin was stretched, his cuts opened painfully and he felt as though the knife was being drawn through him all over again.
Archer took in the sight of the man before washing his wounds gently. Pale and shivering as his sweat evaporated, trembling from the revived pain; the rough rag scratched and the warm water felt nice against the chill, but the pain cancelled that out.
Roy licked his dry lips and swallowed, looking down at Archer has the rag ran across his swollen skin. Every lingering swipe felt like a fresh cut and his breath became shallow as he tried to ignore the pain.
“Why are you doing that,” he croaked, voice strained.
The corners of Archers mouth quirked up as he finished washing the last clot out of the longer cut on Roy’s left thigh. The Colonel’s skin was pink and glistening and Archer couldn’t help but put his lips to it. Roy sighed when he realized Archer had no interest in explaining himself and closed his eyes again, trying to block it all out.
Seeing Roy’s belly twitch with pained breath and the raised lines of pink, broken flesh was enough to awaken Archer again and he spent extra care washing Roy’s limp cock. By then, the warmth of the rag had gone cold and he dropped it to the floor, replacing it with his mouth.
On his side, Roy shifted uncomfortably and whimpered. It felt good. He knew there was no denying it; he had already given in to the need once before, struggling against it now was pointless, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Kneeling on the floor, Archer stroked his own reviving erection as he sucked the life back into Roy’s. When it was just hard enough, he replaced his mouth with his fist and moved up to Roy’s face. Studying him closely, he first drew Roy’s bottom lip, the then upper lip into his mouth, sucking gently, savoring the salty taste of sweat and discomfort. Roy whimpered and closed his teeth tightly as Archer’s tongue slipped past his lips, but an insistent and painful tug on his half-hard erection convinced him to cooperate. He opened his mouth tentatively, disgust clearly showing across his features, and Archer kissed him deeply, knowing full well the ironic intimacy of the action.
With his lips still brushing against Roy’s, Archer whispered his agenda, “I won’t be satisfied until we both cum again. How long do you want this to last?” Roy tried to turn his head away, but his restrained arms held him fast, “It would behoove you to finish first. Just a suggestion.” Archer slipped his tongue past Roy’s lips for a taste once more before getting up and walking to the opposite side of the bed.
He picked up the discarded knife from the floor next to the wall, then returned to the bed and knelt on it, looking over Roy. He reached into his pocket and procured the handcuff keys; the slight jingle piqued Roy’s interest and he dared to open an eye, looking back at his tormentor over his shoulder. Archer leaned forward and purposely slid the soft skin of his erection against Roy’s back as he moved the knife in place against Roy’s neck.
“I think you understand that fighting would ruin everything you’ve already given up tonight,” he stated, voice serious. Roy swallowed against the cold blade and stared up at the man above him, “I’m going to release your hands, but remember that. Fighting me will not give you back Fullmetal,” he chuckled slightly and his eyes glinted, “it may even endanger your life, Colonel.”
Roy’s eyes spoke of comprehension and Archer undid one the locks of the handcuffs while holding the blade tighter against Roy’s neck. Once free, Roy made no move to escape, just kept his eyes warily locked with Archer’s as he pulled his arms out of their awkward position. He grimaced as his sore muscles were flexed, but otherwise made no complaints.
Archer dropped the keys back into his pocket and tugged Roy’s arm while keeping the knife firmly in place, “Get up,” he said, “all the way. Kneel.”
Roy pushed himself up, swinging his knees under and rising. While Archer directed him with one hand, the other was busy with a blade, making sure there were no sudden movements. He directed Roy to kneel in front of him, his feet between Archer’s knees, facing away from him towards the headboard. Archer dragged the knife tip insistently down his chest and stomach, scratching it over the wound there causing Roy to yelp, until it rested against his half erect cock. With his other hand, he pushed Roy’s shoulder blade until Roy was on his hands and knees.
“Spread your legs,” he directed, and Roy moved them apart as much as they could, until his legs touched Archer’s. With Roy open to him as much as he could be, he spit into his hand, pumped himself a few times and pressed himself in. His previous orgasm was still trapped between Roy’s thighs and hadn’t had time to really dry, so the penetration was slightly easier, but Roy still cried out in pain.
Archer threw back his head and relished in the warmth, breathing deeply and struggling to keep himself from fucking him right then and there. Once all the way inside and he regained his composure, Archer reached forward and grabbed Roy’s shoulder, pulling him back up against his chest. As Roy rose, he dragged the knife back up to his neck, wrapping his arm around Roy’s chest. Archer brought his other arm around to Roy’s upper belly and held him in a crude embrace, rubbing lazy circles over his stomach and chest, relishing in the feeling of his firm body. He put his lips to the back of Roy’s ear and rocked his hips slightly, shifting his erection against Roy’s prostate and sending sparks of pleasure through the man’s very bones.
“Touch yourself, Roy. Cum for me,” He whispered.
Roy moaned quietly and shivered. It was one thing to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands, unable to resist, but manipulating himself into orgasm was a serious exercise of will.
“I can’t,” he whispered back pitifully, letting his head fall, his hands moving up to grip Archer’s around his chest to keep himself from leaning into the knife.
Archer shook him once in his arms, “You can and you will, or you’re not leaving,” he spat in response and Roy threw his head back over Archer’s shoulder and breathed.
Archer rocked his hips again and pressed his teeth around the juncture of Roy’s neck and shoulder, sliding them open and closed over his skin in firm, but gentle bites. Roy panted and slowly moved his right hand down to his cock. He leaned back against Archer with his left hand still gripping Archer’s arm, which had moved up to thumb a hardening nipple. He rolled his head away from Archer’s as he slid his hand over his balls, moving his palm in firm strokes up and down his full length, pressing himself into his stomach. The head just barely reached the gash that ran across it and the heat from the wound felt oddly arousing.
Roy struggled with his mind, trying to focus on his task and not the man behind him and inside of him, or the insistent sting of his legs. His body unconsciously adjusted to being filled and he tightened and loosened around Archer, who ceased his slight rocking to enjoy being softly squeezed.
Roy paused his palm strokes over the head of his erection and teased it as it hardened under his touch. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft just under the head and brought his hand down and up slowly, squeezing tighter on the upstroke. Archer continued pinching and caressing Roy’s nipples as he ran his tongue over his neck, and Roy slid his left hand over his shoulder to grip Archer’s shirt.
He was losing and winning at the same time. As he pumped his erection faster, he involuntarily bucked his hips forward, causing Archer’s cock to shift inside of him, brushing against his sweet spot and increasing the overall sensations tenfold.
Archer reveled in it; to him, he had truly won. Roy was enjoying himself at his own hand in his presence. He had given into his body and ignored the obvious pain of being penetrated and sliced, and even though it was only to save the boy he wished a friend, he did it all for him.
Roy gripped Archer’s shirt tighter and rolled his head back to press against his neck, nuzzling as he pumped and squeezed himself faster. He panted and grunted, starting to sweat again as he struggled to cum as quickly as possible.
His age, however, made quickness an issue. He had already cum once that night, and not all that long before, so while it felt absolutely delightful, it would be a battle of mind vs. body to get him to cum again. He panted and moaned, thrusting his hips forward into his hands, flexing and releasing around Archer’s throbbing erection.
With each thrust, Archer’s cock slid in and out of him and Archer’s mind swam, “Yess… fuck yourself on me,” he whispered into the ear of the lost Colonel. Archer bit the back of Roy’s neck and Roy tried to lean forward on his free hand and knees, but Archer held him fast with arm and knife.
“You love this, you love fucking yourself for Fullmetal,” Archer taunted and Roy moaned, pausing his pumping long enough to bring his palm to his face and lick it, before resuming. The thin coating of saliva provided a slicker slide and the sounds of flesh on flesh, breathy pants and moans filled the room.
Roy rolled his head away again, leaving his neck more open to Archer’s mouth who took full advantage, sucking and biting all along its white length, leaving dark bruises in places that would have to be blamed on some overeager woman-of-the-moment. Roy lengthened his strokes and ran his hand over his sensitive head with each pass, swiveling his hips, causing Archer’s cock to brush back and forth over his prostate.
Archer and Roy moaned at the same time from the sensation and Archer growled incoherent encouragements. He was getting impatient. He wanted nothing more than to push Roy into the mattress and fuck him senseless, but he would not end this madness until Roy had brought himself off for him. He wanted to feel him shudder in his arms, feel him tighten rhythmically around his cock, feel him shout as he came and know it was all for him. He wanted to have something truly mind reeling to file away in his memory bank, something he could really use against the man should he ever need to.
He peered over Roy’s shoulder and watched as his fist flew over his reddened shaft, groaning at the sight, “Are you imagining fucking him right now?” Archer breathed into the Colonel’s ear who shuddered and twitched, trying so hard to released the tension of the upcoming orgasm. “Are you imagining gripping that blond braid and fucking him?” Roy sobbed and ground down on Archer’s cock inside of him, “Or are you imagining grabbing his face and forcing him over your cock?” Roy gripped Archer’s shirt tighter, pulling the back of it from inside his pants.
“No!” he moaned, pumping and thrusting, beads of sweat running down his face.
“Yess,” Archer hissed his reply.
“No,” Roy moaned pitifully and bucked hard, fucking himself with longer strokes over Archer’s cock.
Archer thrust into him once, twice and Roy exploded with a howl, tensing and folding over himself as Archer threw the knife to the floor once again. He erupted in short spurts, panting heavily and grunting, sweat dropping off his face and onto the mattress before he collapsed into his own cum, sliding off of Archer in the process.
Archer could wait no longer. With Roy spent and on his stomach, he shoved himself back inside of him with unimaginable force and Roy howled in pain. Archer rested his full weight on Roy’s back, pushing the spent man’s chest and face into the mattress and fucking him savagely, causing Roy to groan and sob in agony.
It didn’t take long. Watching and feeling Roy fuck himself aroused him so much, in a little less than a minute, Archer pulled out and came all over Roy’s ass and back, panting and grunting.
Roy panted beneath him, eyes screwed shut and Archer stumbled into the bathroom once again to clean himself. His hair was matted with sweat and his uniform was soaked through in places. He washed the blood off his cock with another rag and tucked himself back into his pants before splashing water over his face and smoothing out his hair. Leaning on the edge of the sink, he smiled at himself in the mirror over his victory and then turned to leave, eyelids heavy with exhaustion over his two orgasms.
He brought the rag with him and tossed it onto Roy’s back, taking in the sight of his heaving back and the glistening dots of cum along the curve of his pale ass and lower back. While Roy caught his breath and pieced together his thoughts, Archer gathered his things: the discarded knife (which he cleaned off on Roy’s clothes), the neck brace and the broken gag, and dumped them all into the bag at the foot of the bed. After zipping the bag closed, he gathered Roy’s clothing and threw them onto the bed next to Roy, the shirt arm falling over Roy’s head.
He reached into his trouser pocket and produced the signed transfer order, resting it on the nightstand. “Give my regards to Fullmetal. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know that his virginity was given up in vain,” Archer chuckled, “Some savior,” He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, “I trust you’ll take care of the hotel bill? It’s in your name, after all.”
Archer turned to leave and Roy shifted on the bed, lifting his upper body on his arms, his head hanging down towards the mattress.
“Edward… did he… did you really…?” Roy’s voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, fearing that if he did, he would make it real. He twisted his body towards Archer and looked at him with tired eyes, glancing down at the folded paper on the nightstand.
Archer smiled at him and left.