The Human Stain (Ct'd. Blah Blah Slash)
Sep. 16th, 2007 09:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jheti
Envy/Greed, past!fic, maybe 50 years before he got sealed, so sometime in--yes, that's right, the 1700's, no one saw that coming because I'm totally NOT OBSESSED with the time period or anything. Omg. Shocking.
It's not Envy's true face, all sly cruelty and deep green hair, but it's his favorite. It's Greed's favorite, too, truth to tell. And Envy knows it. Greed makes a strangled noise of astonishment and tries to get closer. It hurts. A lot. But he's on the mend already, and what's a little more pain if it gets him what he wants?
'No' is the last refuge of weaklings. He's never said it, no matter what the witch did to him, and he's not about to start.
"Hello, yourself," says Greed, showing teeth. It's like a smile. He snares Envy's lips in his fangs and bears down, chewing. "Thought about you."
The elder homunculus grinds into him so hard his eyes water and then tears loose, leaving scraps of himself in Greed's mouth--wet paper, mercury, lead, and a touch of red stone.
"I didn't think about you," Envy says, lying, knowing it will work, knowing it will hurt. "Not once."
"Really."
Bondage is not Greed's thing. His head is pounding and his feet are numb. Envy won't move with him, won't help him in the slightest, won't touch him at all except for poking him a little with that hard-on.
He'll make it up to the bastard later.
"Of course." Envy smirks, grimaces, smiles, and tilts his head out of the way. "You're sentimental." The word is all sneer. "Still so human. Why would I care? I didn't even notice you were gone."
The room wobbles for a second. Exhaustion and pain and Envy are too much in the morning, fucking with his head like this; it's too damn early.
"I missed you," Greed insists.
Envy leans into him, his slim, pale hands braced against the cuffs, folding so tight the metal whines as it starts to buckle. Something flickers and glows behind his eyes. His lips, white and shining like the edge of a china plate, flutter just at the corners as he slowly rocks forward on his hips.
Greed knows hunger when he sees it.
"You're--" he rolls his head toward the ceiling, brings it down too fast. Sparkles coil through his field of vision as he widens his eyes, perches his tongue on his teeth, and slowly licks his lips. A little nearer and he'll be able to catch hold again and hurt him back. The idea feels real nice. "Unforgettable."
It's the thinnest line he's ever spun, and Envy's not taking the bait. His hands convulse around the cuffs; they implode with one clean, wet thunderclap of sound and take Greed's wrists with them.
He's ready to pass out again, seasick with hurt. Envy will laugh as he kills him again. He reaches in, tries for the Shield, and gets only a strong, electric chemical charge from his toes to the tips of his hair--the ones against the nape of his neck are standing at attention.
He's going to die, still hung over from last time, and he's got a boner that could cut diamonds.
"I suppose that's why you left?" The words are small and bitter through Envy's delicate doll lips. The heat's all gone; he takes two steps back and keeps Greed pinned to the wall by main force.
He'd never manage that if Greed were better. If it were tomorrow instead of today.
"The bitch." Greed spits; half sticks to his face and he doesn't care. It's just like her. He can't get rid of her and he can't get away and he can't understand why Envy didn't come with him. "She's why. She's always why."
He asked! He never asks for anything, from anyone, and he'd said please. Of course Envy refused. Envy always refused everything the first time. That was how he got it up, got off, and probably the only way he got any sleep at night.
Greed, dizzy and half-poisoned, had figured he just needed better bait. That was the last time he'd ever snort antimony, or anything else from the bitch's lab, no matter how sparkly it was or what Lust said it would do for his sexual prowess.
Envy looked so fragile in that halfway form, pliable and dangerous. Greed, feeling dangerous himself--nothing could kill him, except her--had coaxed Envy up to his room and laid bare a fantastic new plan he'd dreamed up just seconds before. His hands shook and flexed by themselves as he reeled from side to side, pacing, unable to stop talking long enough to even pause for breath, talking and talking until he tasted blood. Envy watched with detached amusement from atop the loose pile of bawdy sketches and old clothes that buried the nicest of Greed's three divans.
It was a brilliant fucking plan. They were going to sneak up on her, see. She had a mortal body, she was a deep sleeper and always had been. All he would have to do would be lean on her. Then they would be free. They could go to Central, or maybe the Drachmin border, kill a bunch of northmen and see what passed for alchemy in the hinterlands. Together. That would be perfect.
Envy quit smirking. Greed hadn't noticed--his head hurt so much; his throat was on fire and he couldn't stand straight. Bile and vodka twisted sideways in his guts and pushed up into his mouth, red hot. He almost didn't hold it down. But that didn't matter. They were kings, they were gods, they were flawless created beings, and they were going to slay the bitch and rule the world. Envy could have that operahouse he'd fancied, the one in Central where giddy tarts and tenors with a mince in their step painted their lips and trilled the mindless, endless scales of notes that were the fashion these days.
Envy was frowning outright by the time he collapsed and scowling at him when he came up from convulsions and darkness, all cold sweat and confusion.
That didn't matter. He was the Ultimate Shield; he couldn't die and he had the best bait ever in the world--Envy would pop a blood vessel, it'd throw that switch in his twisty, vicious mind marked 'I Want It'. Everybody had that switch and Greed knew how to get inside people's heads and stomp up and down on it. Envy was going to flip.
He'd offered up his best secret, his best trinket. He'd been saving it for-fucking-ever. A sliver of very old red stone--the real shit, the good shit, from that eastern country where they slaughtered firstborn girls. Pure distilled misery, bright new lives. Not eating it, holding it out toward Envy and smiling and pretending he really wanted to give it up, had about killed him.
Then Envy finished the job anyway. Twice. He'd demolished Greed's room and set it on fire, and then gone and tattled on him. The stupid little shit.
Dante had not been best pleased.
I'm tired. It's not edited; it never is. Foo.
It's not Envy's true face, all sly cruelty and deep green hair, but it's his favorite. It's Greed's favorite, too, truth to tell. And Envy knows it. Greed makes a strangled noise of astonishment and tries to get closer. It hurts. A lot. But he's on the mend already, and what's a little more pain if it gets him what he wants?
'No' is the last refuge of weaklings. He's never said it, no matter what the witch did to him, and he's not about to start.
"Hello, yourself," says Greed, showing teeth. It's like a smile. He snares Envy's lips in his fangs and bears down, chewing. "Thought about you."
The elder homunculus grinds into him so hard his eyes water and then tears loose, leaving scraps of himself in Greed's mouth--wet paper, mercury, lead, and a touch of red stone.
"I didn't think about you," Envy says, lying, knowing it will work, knowing it will hurt. "Not once."
"Really."
Bondage is not Greed's thing. His head is pounding and his feet are numb. Envy won't move with him, won't help him in the slightest, won't touch him at all except for poking him a little with that hard-on.
He'll make it up to the bastard later.
"Of course." Envy smirks, grimaces, smiles, and tilts his head out of the way. "You're sentimental." The word is all sneer. "Still so human. Why would I care? I didn't even notice you were gone."
The room wobbles for a second. Exhaustion and pain and Envy are too much in the morning, fucking with his head like this; it's too damn early.
"I missed you," Greed insists.
Envy leans into him, his slim, pale hands braced against the cuffs, folding so tight the metal whines as it starts to buckle. Something flickers and glows behind his eyes. His lips, white and shining like the edge of a china plate, flutter just at the corners as he slowly rocks forward on his hips.
Greed knows hunger when he sees it.
"You're--" he rolls his head toward the ceiling, brings it down too fast. Sparkles coil through his field of vision as he widens his eyes, perches his tongue on his teeth, and slowly licks his lips. A little nearer and he'll be able to catch hold again and hurt him back. The idea feels real nice. "Unforgettable."
It's the thinnest line he's ever spun, and Envy's not taking the bait. His hands convulse around the cuffs; they implode with one clean, wet thunderclap of sound and take Greed's wrists with them.
He's ready to pass out again, seasick with hurt. Envy will laugh as he kills him again. He reaches in, tries for the Shield, and gets only a strong, electric chemical charge from his toes to the tips of his hair--the ones against the nape of his neck are standing at attention.
He's going to die, still hung over from last time, and he's got a boner that could cut diamonds.
"I suppose that's why you left?" The words are small and bitter through Envy's delicate doll lips. The heat's all gone; he takes two steps back and keeps Greed pinned to the wall by main force.
He'd never manage that if Greed were better. If it were tomorrow instead of today.
"The bitch." Greed spits; half sticks to his face and he doesn't care. It's just like her. He can't get rid of her and he can't get away and he can't understand why Envy didn't come with him. "She's why. She's always why."
He asked! He never asks for anything, from anyone, and he'd said please. Of course Envy refused. Envy always refused everything the first time. That was how he got it up, got off, and probably the only way he got any sleep at night.
Greed, dizzy and half-poisoned, had figured he just needed better bait. That was the last time he'd ever snort antimony, or anything else from the bitch's lab, no matter how sparkly it was or what Lust said it would do for his sexual prowess.
Envy looked so fragile in that halfway form, pliable and dangerous. Greed, feeling dangerous himself--nothing could kill him, except her--had coaxed Envy up to his room and laid bare a fantastic new plan he'd dreamed up just seconds before. His hands shook and flexed by themselves as he reeled from side to side, pacing, unable to stop talking long enough to even pause for breath, talking and talking until he tasted blood. Envy watched with detached amusement from atop the loose pile of bawdy sketches and old clothes that buried the nicest of Greed's three divans.
It was a brilliant fucking plan. They were going to sneak up on her, see. She had a mortal body, she was a deep sleeper and always had been. All he would have to do would be lean on her. Then they would be free. They could go to Central, or maybe the Drachmin border, kill a bunch of northmen and see what passed for alchemy in the hinterlands. Together. That would be perfect.
Envy quit smirking. Greed hadn't noticed--his head hurt so much; his throat was on fire and he couldn't stand straight. Bile and vodka twisted sideways in his guts and pushed up into his mouth, red hot. He almost didn't hold it down. But that didn't matter. They were kings, they were gods, they were flawless created beings, and they were going to slay the bitch and rule the world. Envy could have that operahouse he'd fancied, the one in Central where giddy tarts and tenors with a mince in their step painted their lips and trilled the mindless, endless scales of notes that were the fashion these days.
Envy was frowning outright by the time he collapsed and scowling at him when he came up from convulsions and darkness, all cold sweat and confusion.
That didn't matter. He was the Ultimate Shield; he couldn't die and he had the best bait ever in the world--Envy would pop a blood vessel, it'd throw that switch in his twisty, vicious mind marked 'I Want It'. Everybody had that switch and Greed knew how to get inside people's heads and stomp up and down on it. Envy was going to flip.
He'd offered up his best secret, his best trinket. He'd been saving it for-fucking-ever. A sliver of very old red stone--the real shit, the good shit, from that eastern country where they slaughtered firstborn girls. Pure distilled misery, bright new lives. Not eating it, holding it out toward Envy and smiling and pretending he really wanted to give it up, had about killed him.
Then Envy finished the job anyway. Twice. He'd demolished Greed's room and set it on fire, and then gone and tattled on him. The stupid little shit.
Dante had not been best pleased.
I'm tired. It's not edited; it never is. Foo.
