You Belong to Me | By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 9883 -:- Recommendations : 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. |
Disclaimer:
I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.
“<insert
speech here>” - this represents a character speaking in a
tongue other then French or English.
Rodger,
Adaba, and Jacques are
original characters.
Chapter
2
Edward blinked against
the bright morning sunshine coming through his bedroom window, and
burrowing into his pillows, he sighed in contentment. The warm
columns of light fell onto his white sheets, heating him in patches.
Squirming further into the sunshine made the light fall fully on his
back, it was lovely to be in his bed, with crisp white sheets, fluffy
feather down pillows, feather bed, and enjoying the slow morning. He
was happy to find the feather bed waiting for him when he arrived
from the States; a farewell gift from his father. He was just happy
that there was no school today, thank God.
Edward stopped his
shifting and opened his eyes. School? No, it was work, and he
was...Edward opened his eyes and looked over at his night side table
at his alarm clock. Late! SHIT! He threw back the covers and
jumped out of bed, tumbling to his hands and knees. DAMMIT! He was
late, again! He was so dead.
Stumbling over the
clothes littered like little heaps of flotsam across the floor,
Edward made a bee line for the small bathroom just off his bedroom.
Reaching into the curtained shower, he got the water running to the
right temperature and peeled off his PJ bottoms and underwear, and
jumped in. He gasped when the scalding hot water hit his chest.
Moving out of the spray, he adjusted the temperature to something he
could stand, and then quickly lathered up his body.
This would be the third
time this week alone, that he'd be late. Dr. Marcoh was not very
happy with him, and it always left him with sore ears from all the
screaming the man did. It was embarrassing the way he was thoroughly
raked over the coals. He barely rinsed the suds off before he was
out and drying off. Hurrying into his room again, Edward did a
visual check for the location of his laundry basket. He'd swear the
thing had legs, and would shift from one place to the next in an
effort to find a new hiding place.
Spotting laundry basket
by the closet in his room, he trotted over to rummage through it for
some clothes to wear. Throwing his towel on the bed, he pulled on
some boxers and brown baggy cords. He found one of his white—now
off white—t-shirt and carried it with him out into the living
room. Holding his shirt in his mouth he quickly placed two slices of
bread into the toaster in his small kitchenette and hurried over to
the door to get his bag. Brining it back with him, he opened the
small hotel sized fridge and dumped an apple and a juice bottle
inside. He placed the bag on the floor and sorted out his t-shirt,
pulling it over his head.
Slinging his bag across
his body, popped up his half toasted bread and mashed his feet into
his sneakers. He snatched his keys off the hook by the door, and
slammed his door shut behind him. Locking the door, Edward bounded
down the narrow apartment steps to the ground floor, leaping out the
front door and hitting the ground running.
Running
full out, Edward reached back and gathered up his hair at the nape of
his neck, and used the elastic on his wrist to secure it. Thank
heaven that the metro was so close to his apartment, otherwise he'd
be really late. As it was now, Edward figured that he wouldn't make
until twenty minutes after nine, and he was supposed to start at 8:30
AM. Man, I'm in soooo much trouble,
Edward wined in his head, as he dodged around an elderly man.
He just hoped that
Paninya didn't find him first. Edward thought that she was actually
more awful the Dr. Marcoh was. Really, he had no idea just what he
did to upset her so. Did she just decide that since he was the new
kid, she would pick on him?
His first month in Paris
wasn't going all that well. The return letter from his dad, wasn't
very sympathetic to his plea to come home, in his opinion. It's
like, he was being abandoned. He pulled out his metro pass and
swiped it through the card reader. The turn stile clicked and he
pushed his way through.
He could hear the train
coming down the tunnel and he rushed to catch it. Taking the steps
two at a time, Edward jumped the reaming distance and lurched towards
the closing train doors. One of the passengers saw his mad dash and
held the door from closing.
“Merci.”
Edward's chest heaved as he crossed the threshold. The kind
passenger let the door close and smiled before turning and taking a
vacant seat. Backing up to lean against the doors, he watched
through the opposite windows as the underground passed by. The train
always made him reflect and remember things he didn't want to
remember. Like that time when he was eight, and Winry had just come
home from boarding school. He had spent hours making a box like they
did in school last week made of macaroni. He glued and then painted
the cardboard box with a gold paint, because she liked gold. All to
welcome her home.
He had waited with the
other servants for her arrival, his present hiding behind his back,
in his sweaty palms. When she finally arrived, she swept down the
line acknowledging their comments and smiling sweetly; Roy trailed
behind, dressed in his blazer and tweed pant suit, his hands clasped
behind his back. For a fifteen year old, he acted like his father,
or so Edward had been told. Old and stuffy; Winry's ever present
guard.
When Winry worked her
way down the line and smiled at him, Edward had forgotten all about
his present, and could only smile uncertainty back. Patricia, who
had been standing next to him, he remembered, patted his head when
Winry walked away. After that he had wondered the grounds, pouting.
The box held out in front of his chest, he finally sat down under the
old willow tree on the far edge of the Mustang's property.
He couldn't remember
what happened to it after that, but he did remember searching for it
after he had eaten supper that night when he noticed that it was
missing. He had searched until the summer light had faded from the
sky, but it was gone, and he didn't feel like making another. Roy
had wandered out just as Edward had given up the search and was
making his way back to the garage.
Seeing his drooping
shoulder's and dragging feet, Roy had made his way over to him.
Edward sort of remembered him being nice that night but he couldn't
really remember what Roy did or said. It wasn't enough to make him
comfortable around the teen though.
The train slowed to a
stop, next stop was his. Edward tried to expel his childhood
memories, as he moved away from the door to let people off. He
supposed that he'd be doing this a lot, this remembrance, during his
time here. Maybe it was like leaching out poison, or pulling out a
splinter. The cure was almost as painful as the injury.
At his next stop, Edward
squeezed through the door before it was even fully open and ran up
the stairs. Wheezing at the top, he had to waste precious moments to
regain his wind. He ran down the street and up the steps of the old
archives building.
“Edward!”
A familiar voice called.
Edward stop just before
entering the front door and turned to see who was hailing him.
“Edward,
take the back way, come on.” Russell waved him over from
behind a stone lion guarding the front doors.
“Russell!
My alarm didn't go off.” Edward retraced his steps and
squeezed behind the statue.
“I
covered for you, when Dr. March came looking. They don't know your
late.” Russell informed him as soon as he stopped in front of
the taller boy. Motioning Edward to follow, Russell lead the way to
the corner of the building.
“Oh,
thank God. I wanted to be able to retain my hearing.” Edward
sighed with relief that his skin and all his body parts were going to
be staying with him a while longer.
They fell silent, as
they work their way around the side of the building and to the back
door and on to the main part of the archives. Russell led him to the
empty lunch room, and Edward stashed his bag in his locker. When he
turned around, Russell threw a bag at him, which he snatched neatly
out of the air.
“Nice
catch,” grinned Russell. “You got really good reflexes.”
“Thanks.
What's this?” Edward looked into the brown paper bag.
Frowning, he pulled the garish teal plastic clock covered with
bizarre cartoon characters. “What's this?”
“Three
times in a row, means your alarm clocked is fucked. You can have
this one.” Russell came along side Edward and pointed out one
of the characters. “This guy's my favorite. That frog was so
funny to me as a kid--”
“Was
this your's? You actually had something like this?” Edward
looked up into Russell's face as he bent over him. He was touched
that this guy was making such a gesture of friendship, but then when
he looked back at the hideous clock...
“Yeah,
it's ugly isn't?” Russell took the clock from Edward and
flipped it over. “Here's how you set it.” Edward nodded
and turned it over. “I know it's not a 'guys' clock, but its
really reliable and has never let me down.” Russell told
Edward as he studied it.
“Thanks
Russell! Do you want me to pay--”
Russell held up a slim
hand, forestalling his next words. “It's a present, from a
friend. Hurry up and put that away, we should go get you seen so no
one begins to wonder.”
“Right.”
Edward replaced the clock in the paper bag and re-opened his locker
placing the bag carefully on top of his own.
“It's
good to see your not wearing your baggy shirts today. I was
beginning to wonder if you might not be fat under all those clothes.
You're actually quite delicate aren't you?” said Russell
leading the way out of the lunch room and to their work places. He
eyed the boy coming up behind him as he hid his face in his hair.
“I'm
not small!” groused Edward. He adjusted his shirt, noticing
for the first time that he was with out his extra layers. In his
rush to get to work he'd totally forgotten to grab his baggy plaid
shirt that he wore over everything and he was feeling exposed with
out his usual garb.
“How
old are you?” Russell inquired, abruptly changing the subject.
“Nineteen.
Why?”
“At
nineteen you don't have much chance to grow anymore,” snickered
Russell.
“What!
Are you serious! I'm done growing? That can't be, my da's huge!”
complained Edward, his arms waving high above his head to indicate
how tall his father was.
“But
how big is your mother?” Russell held up a finger and looked
across at Edward. “What?” Russell dropped his finger and
turned to look at the boy when he stopped in the middle of the hall,
with his chin touching his chest.
“I
don't know. I never knew her,” Edward mumbled. He wondered
what it would have been like to have a mother. If only his da would
see that Patricia was a kind woman...
“I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories.” Russell
took an abortive step towards the blond and then thought he better
not.
Edward rubbed his
shoulder along his ear. Another sore point he'd have to deal with,
it seemed. Sticking on a large smile, he brushed past Russell and
hurried on to their desks. After a few moments, Edward could hear
the other boy rush to catch up.
Glancing sideways at
him, Edward could see that Russell was worried about the distress he
had inadvertently caused. “Don't worry about it.” Ed
assured the taller boy. “It's hard not knowing her growing up.
Sometimes it just gets me weird, like, I'm lonely or something.”
Ed tried to explain his feelings so that Russell wouldn't feel bad
about hurting him any more, but he had hardly thought about it
himself, let alone try to explain it to someone.
“Can
I make it up to you?” Russell
pulled on Edward's arm stopping him from entering their work room.
“You
don't have too, really.” Edward couldn't help it, he was
blushing. He really wasn't used to people touching him so easily
except for maybe his da.
“I
want to. You've been here almost a month now, and I don't think that
you've really seen Paris yet, have you? Let me take you around,
please,” Russell brought his palms together and held them in
front of his mouth, pleading.
“Um...okay,
if you really want too--”
“I
really do!” Russell grabbed both of Edward's shoulder's in his
excitement. “I know all sorts of great places. You'll love
it.” Smiling at the stunned expression on Edward's face,
Russell slapped his back in a friendly manner and propelled them the
rest of the way towards their work.
- - - -
Leaning over the side of
the stone bridge, Edward studied the water rushing along below his
feet. A small house boat was slowly making it's way down river
towards him. The painful chugging of it's engine rose above the
sounds of the passing cars as it neared the bridge, and the white
wake of it's passing, shattered the calm smooth surface of the water,
making the evening lights glisten in the water's reflection. Going
up on his tip toes, Edward tried to look under the bridge to see if
any birds were nesting under the struts like they did on the
buildings back home.
A warm gust of summer
air lifted the bottom of his shirt, and he slid back off the railing
to pull it down. “It's great here.” He leaned his back
into the stone and looked across the bridge at the night sky of Paris
in summer.
“Yeah.”
Russell turned as well, taking in the city scape as he leaned
against the bridge. “Shall we go on to the bar?”
“But,
Russell, I'm not legal, how am I going to get in?” Edward
didn't think his father would be too thrilled to know his son had
gotten thrown in jail for underage drinking. He could already
imagine what his da would say to him.
“I
know people,” Russell waved the protest away. “Plus your
good looking.” Edward blushed hard at the causal comment on
his looks. “They would want you there. Makes the club look
good, to have beautiful people there.”
“I
don't know...” Edward chewed on his thumb nail in his unease.
“It'll
be fine, trust me.”
Edward nodded and thrust
his hands in his baggy jean pockets. Russell had somehow convinced
him to abandon his many layers for the night, but he drew the line at
ditching his loose fitting jeans. As they walked the night streets,
Edward stared in awe of the buildings and it's people many of whom
were out on the streets talking with one another, as if was too hot
inside.
Russell tapped his
shoulder and led them down a seedy looking alley. “Here it
is,” he declared, sweeping his arm, and smiling widely.
“I
don't get it? Is this some sort of French humor?” Edward
asked, looking up and down the trash strewn alley. He hunched his
shoulders as he watched a homeless man shuffle across the far end,
and shivered.
“No,
no, look here. It's ultra high class.” Russell stepped up to
a heavy metal door and banged it twice. He stepped back, next to
Edward and waited.
Glancing side long at
Russell, Edward quirked an eyebrow as the wait drew out longer and
longer.
“I
tell you, it's good, trust me,” Russell patted the smaller
blond on the shoulder and turned back to wait some more.
“Riiight.
Listen thanks for the invite, but I think I'll just go home.”
“Nonono,
you can't leave yet.” Russell grabbed Edward around the waist.
The small blond squirmed in his effort to extract himself from the
ever tightening hold. They wrestled, Edward trying to pry off
Russell's encircling arms and Russell, trying to keep Edward from
leaving.
Just as Edward had
broken Russell's pawing hands away from his waist and was about to
step away from the taller boy's body, the door swung open, and a
large wide man filled the door looking at the two young boys in what,
to him, must have looked like a compromising situation.
“Tringham?”
the mountain of a man asked.
“Jacques,”
Russell let Edward go. He ran a hand through his long bangs,
smoothing out his appearance, and smiled at the bouncer. “Jacques,
this is Edward, he's from America.”
Edward shifted and
pulled his t-shirt lower, and inched closer to Russell, but stopped
himself from hiding behind him all together. That man was huge...
“How
do you do, Edward,” the bouncer answered in heavily accented
English. He gave a small half bow, and returned his stare to
Russell. “Just the two of you tonight, Tringham?”
“Yes,
please, Jacques,” Russell beamed at the nervous boy beside him,
throughly enjoying the fact that Edward was seeking refuge behind
him.
“This
way, please,” Jacques stepped into an alcove beside the door,
leaving them room to pass.
Placing a hand on the
small of Edward's back, Russell guided the smaller blond before him
into the club. He tried to hide his smile as Edward tried to look
everywhere at once. It was very fetching. Nudging his back once
more, Russell moved past him to climb down the white stone steps,
leading the way. Now that they were inside, the pounding of heavy
bass could be heard. Pushing open the heavy door at the bottom of
the stairs, Russell shoved his way into the throng of people milling
about trying to talk over the loud music.
Gawking at the stylish
new age feel of the club, Edward realized that he had lost Russell
almost immediately after entering. Many off the people standing by
the door were giving him the eye, and one woman even rubbed along his
back, pressing her breasts to him. His eyes went wide as he mumbled
his apologizes to her, but he could have sworn that she didn't mind
in the least. She may have even done it on purpose.
Maneuvering off to the
side, Edward got out of the crowds way and leaned up against the
wall. Chewing on his lip, he scanned the milling people trying to
spot Russell's bright blond hair in the constantly shifting throng,
and blinking lights. Heaving a large sigh, he had to admit it, he
was small, just as Russell had said. It wasn't until Russell had
pointed it out to him the other day that he had even thought his
height. He was about 5'2” now, if he was lucky he figured he
might get another inch or two with the way things were going.
Scanning the crowd once
more, Edward stopped when he saw a couple making out on the low slung
back seat in the corner, near him. He could even see the woman's
naked breasts as the man groped at her skirt, pulling it ever higher.
He was dumbfounded that no one seemed to notice or care that two
people were about to have sex right in front of everyone.
“Oh,
don't worry about that, we're going in the back. It's better there
you'll see.” Russell shouted in his ear. He had two drinks in
his hands and thrust one at Edward. The small boy started and looked
up at him in momentary fear. “Why'd you take off like that?”
Russell asked.
“Jesus,
you scared the shit outta me,” Edward admonished, grabbing at
his chest as if to stop his heart from escaping. He reached his
other hand out to take the drink Russell was insistently waving under
his nose.
“Sorry,”
Russell breathed into his ear, leaning in to respond. He took a
moment more to breathe in the smell of Edward's shampoo before
straighting and nodding that he should follow him.
Edward nodded, and took
one more look at the couple in the corner. Peeling his eyes away he
took a quick sip of what ever Russell had pushed at him, and was
surprised at the yummy flavor. He drank some alcohol once before
when he had stolen the brandy from his father's cabinet to try it
out, but this was way better then that was, it didn't even burn.
Hurrying after Russell,
Edward made sure to stay close as the people along the bar wove in
and out in an effort to get the next round of drinks or to return to
their table. After almost loosing Russell twice to the throng,
Edward reached out and held on to the hem of Russell's shirt. The
taller boy looked back at the slight touch and smiled, causing Edward
to blush.
“Crowded!”
Edward shouted. Russell nodded and continued to lead them to his
destination.
The pounding music let
up somewhat as Russell led them down a enclosed hallway. This area
was free of the pressing crowd so Edward let go of Russell's shirt
and took his time to study the decor. Taking another sip of his
drink, he noticed a cascading water fall on their right and he
reached out a finger to touch the water as he passed by.
“Where
are we going? I thought you wanted to dance and stuff,” Edward
asked. Russell smiled at him over his shoulder and continued to walk
down the mostly deserted hallway. Shrugging, Edward followed behind,
taking another sip of his drink. He didn't mind this place, it was
neat, with all the clean lined furnishings and white painted walls.
He really like this style.
“Here
we are.” Russell drew back a beaded curtain and waited for
Edward to pass through. His eyes never left Edward's small frame as
it brushed lightly across his body and entered the room, stopping
just inside. Letting the curtain fall, Russell took up a position on
Edward's left side and surveyed the room with him.
Edward's mouth was
hanging off his face as he stared around the sunken room. A milling
crowd of people were sitting on the tiered seats, talking and
drinking, but what really caught his eye was the ring in the middle
of the room under bright overhead florescent lights.
“Whoa...”
breathed Edward, “what's all this?”
“I
noticed you had some pretty good reflexes, I don't know if your into
this sort of stuff, but I didn't think it could hurt.” Russell
held out his hand and motioned Edward to find a seat.
Closing his mouth with a
click of his teeth, Edward moved down the wooden steps towards ring
side. “Can we sit down front?” he craned his neck to ask
Russell, who was a riser behind him. This was so cool, like a movie
or something. That one with Jet Li, where he has to fight in the
ring, it was something like this in a way. Those movies always made
him hyper and want to jump around and stuff.
“Sure,”
smiled Russell in response.
Edward grinned huge, and
rushed towards two ring side seats that were still vacant. He
plopped his bum in the metal folding chair and turned to watch
Russell walk slowly towards him. His friend, he figured he could
call him that now, spotted someone walking towards him and waving.
Holding up a finger to Edward, Russell walked over to the man who was
trying to signal him.
Edward watched for a
moment as they talked, but the excitement of the place was building,
he could feel it. The murmurers became loud and people were taking
their seats. He wondered what type of fight they were going to
watch. Boxing maybe, or maybe some mixed martial arts like on the
ultimate fighter matches on TV. That'd be really cool. He could
feel his blood rushing around his body. Taking another sip of his
drink, he placed it on the floor so it wouldn't get in the way later.
Edward glanced again at
Russell, who was still engrossed in his conversation. Russell
noticed Edward's stare and winked at him before turning back to
concentrate on the man while he was speaking. He felt the heat creep
up his neck, but luckily Russell didn't get to see. Turning back to
the ring, Edward sat on his hands in an effort to keep still.
“<Hey,
boy! Those are my seats!>”
Edward looked up into a
mashed face, thrust into his own. The deep black of his skin and his
pock marked face made the speaker's eyes pop out all the more.
Edward blinked as the man spoke in a tongue he didn't recognize. It
wasn't French that was for sure.
“<Kid,
I'm warning you...>”
“Sorry,
what?” Edward shrugged his shoulder's and mimed that he didn't
understand what the man was trying to say to him.
“<Are
you back talking me, boy?>” the man straightened up and
glared down his flattened nose at Edward. His wide, solid frame took
up the whole view of the ring. He crossed his arms as he continued
to glare at him, tapping his foot in his annoyance.
Edward glanced nervously
at Russell, seeking help or a friend to deal with this guy. His jaw
was gripped in massive sausage like digits and his head was
forcefully turned around to look up into the angry man's face.
“<Look
at me when I talk to YOU.>” the man bellowed, shaking the
captive boys head, making his shoulder length hair dance and bounce.
Edward could hear gasps
from the crowd as people began to notice what was happening near the
ring. So shocked was he, that he couldn't even think about getting
away or calling out for help. He just sat there dumbly, with his
eyes wide, trapped in the vice like grip on his jaw.
The man growled at
Edward, his face darkening even further. Lifting the small boy to
his feet with the grip on his jaw alone, he dragged him to the edge
of the ring.
Fighting to breathe and
work the hand off his face, Edward followed as best he could to ease
the pressure on his face. The man threw him as the ring's edge, and
he could just make out the collective gasp of the crowd over the
pounding of the blood in his ears. Tripping over his own feet,
Edward instinctively threw up his arms to protect his head from
smashing in two against the ring's edge.
He collided sideways;
his elbow taking the brunt of the impact, making his arm go weak as
the pain laced up and down his arm. Then the meaty hand was back;
twisting through his hair, making his head arc backward painfully.
He was yanked backwards, and then thrown back into the ring. His
head slid along the rough canvas, pealing away the skin on his left
cheek and temple.
His body was bent in
half, with his legs dangling over the side of the ring. The assault
paused and Edward could hear shouting. Cracking his eyes open, he
looked through his hair at Russell and Jacques yelling at the man to
stop or the police would be called. Edward looked over at his
attacker. He noticed that with the way he was turned towards
Russell, it made his knee vulnerable to a good kick that would topple
the man to the floor.
As soon as he made the
connection, Edward cocked his leg. He twisted as much as the man's
grip would allow to get a better look at where he had to aim. He
kicked out viscously, hitting the joint dead on. Yelping his
surprise, the man released his hold and tumbled to the floor in a
graceless heap.
Pulling his arms under
him, Edward slowly raised his torso from the ring. Russell was
edging around the man on the floor coming to him; he looked freaked
out. His wrist was gripped tight and he was pulled out of striking
range of his attacker. Pushing at Russell to make him stop, Edward
turned around to watch as the man was carried out of the club by
several bouncers. He was screaming loudly and kicking his feet
making the men carrying him grunt as they tried to maintain their
hold on him.
The crowd, with their
show gone began small pockets of excited conversation, until the room
was buzzing again with what they had just witnessed. Russell tugged
on his arm.
“Edward,
lets get you cleaned up. I know the owner, we'll use his office.”
Pulling Edward around the ring, Russell led the way to the high up
office over looking the room.
Gingerly testing the
wound on his face, Edward followed closely behind Russell. His body
had yet to react to the shock it had sustained, but he had no doubt
it was coming. He wanted to be somewhere private just in case.
Russell kept looking back at him, but he couldn't think of anything
to say. They climbed the stairs in silence, with Edward lagging
behind as his body protested the climb, and the shock began to slowly
assert itself.
Holding open the door
for Edward, Russell felt a huge pang of guilt for his guest. Who
knew that the ex-champ was going to be here. He had always been
difficult to deal with. He was going to recommend to Rodger, the
owner, that he be permanently banned from here. Edward stopped in
the middle of the room, glancing at the decor. Carefully encircling
those small shoulder's with his arm, Russell guided Edward to the
couch, and had him sit.
Those wonderful golden
eyes—were they always that color, he wondered—looked up
into his face. Running his hand through his hair, Russell turned and
strode over to the desk. Pulling open the bottom drawer, he rummaged
about before producing the first aid kit. He brought the kit with
him, setting it on the side table and sat on the arm of the couch.
Titling Edward's head to the side, Russell picked through the
contents, looking for the disinfectant.
When he turned back,
Edward was shaking...hard. It didn't surprise him that Edward was
reacting thus. He was so shy, it was probably his first time being
in a fight. The adrenaline was just now catching up with what had
happened to him. Sliding down the arm, Russell sat with Edward, his
folded leg just brushing against the shaking boy.
Edward enfolded his
hands together, pressing the palms tight, in an effort to still his
quakes. His mind was strangely blank, as if waiting for him to tell
it that it could work again.
Russell dabbed a gauze
sheet with disinfectant cream and lightly started to clean Edward's
cheek. Those golden eyes darted to the side fixing on him for a
moment before they returned to his lap. Removing a flesh colored
patch bandage, that didn't match Edward's lightly tanned skin from
the kit, he placed it over Edward's scrape wound. The small blond
winced when Russell pushed the edges firmly to make sure it didn't
fall off.
“Edward...”
Edward's eyes skipped
over Russell a moment before falling back to his lap. He jaw worked,
making his neck ripple as it flexed.
“I
w-w-wanna learn-n-n how t-t-to fight-t.” Edward stuttered
through chattering teeth. This had just proved to him how weak he
really was. No wonder Winry didn't pay any attention to him.
“Are
you sure?” Russell pulled the boy to his chest, rubbing his
back in slow, hopefully soothing, circles. At the shaky nod on his
chest, Russell sagged. “I'm sorry this had to happen to you.
If only I had noticed that he was here--”
“S-s-okay.”
interrupted Edward. He sniffled as the emotions started to catch up
to him as well. He didn't want to cry, but his eyes were leaking
anyway. “I-I've never b-been in a fight b-b-before.” his
voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, sniffling back the
approaching tide.
“I
know. I'm so sorry Edward, I promise to make it up to you.”
Russell laughed, humorlessly. “I had meant for this to be a
fun night. Watch a fight, drink a little, some dancing.”
They fell silent. Each
of them thinking about what could have happened. Slowly Edward's
shaking began to slow, and the rush of emotion eased.
The door was pushed in,
and a man in his fifties peeked around the door. “How is he
Russell?”
Edward shifted, looking
at the speaker from his position on Russell's chest.
“He'll
be alright. He was just startled. Any trouble getting Adaba out of
here?”
“No.
I'm going to go ahead with the fight. Any objections?”
“No,
go ahead, Rodger.”
Nodding Rodger closed
the door leaving them alone once more. Russell continued to hold
Edward. He was enjoying the way he fit in his arms, and he loved the
wraith like body he had. Edward began to squirm in his arms, so
tried to make him more comfortable. He subtly move Edward around so
that he was leaning against him easier.
“Um...Russell?
What are you doing?” Edward shifted, but Russell held him in
place. The slight pressure from Russell's hand on his shoulder
stopping him from sitting up.
“What?”
“Er...your
hand...” Edward looked down and Russell copied him. There, on
Edward's hip very close to Edward's groin, Russell's hand was working
steadily closer as he kneaded the muscles. Edward's face grew hot as
he watched those fingers still, and he felt Russell tense.
“Oops.”
Russell hastily removed his hand, and Edward sat up. “Listen,
do you want me to take you home, or do you want to stay out? What do
you want to do?” Russell completely ignored where his hand had
almost gone, and focused on a safer subject.
“Um...Let's
walk along the river,” suggested Edward. He didn't want to be
around all these people anymore.
“Sure.
Let's go now, okay?” Russell stood and held out his hand to
hoist Edward to his feet.
Smiling, Edward gripped
his wrist and stood. He wondered what his da would think about what
had happened tonight. Maybe he shouldn't tell him until he was home,
because his da might make him come home, and then he would have to
leave his first real friend.
-- To be continued --
I'm never sure how to
respond to the reviews here...but I've seen a few stories that
include comments in their chapter updates...so I thought I'd give it
a whirl...
TrulyWished: Thanks for
the review, I hope you continue to enjoy XD
Kristie: Don't worry Ed
will eventually end up with Roy, but not before he has many
misadventures first
Silverlook: Thanks for
reading...I can't really tell you what will happen XD, but if you
want a hint, check out the Sabrina movie (the remake staring Harrison
Ford) otherwise your 'doomed' to keep reading...but I'm sure you
could live with that!
Michelle: Thanks for
pointing out that reversion, I fixed it XD let me know if I make any
more boo-boo's
Ursweetheartles: I'm
glad you like my writing style XD I've read your stuff as well! Go
writers!
Orion17: I'm glad you
think I treating both FMA and Sabrina well with my adaption. Let me
know if I stay up to snuff!
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