Never Gonna Stop (The Red, Red Kroovy)

One: Can you believe it? I miss Kimbley!

We: -waves goodbye to Archer- Bye-bye, Archer, You'll be with Kimbley soon.

One: Stupid straight pairings…

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. Although I wish I did own Kimbley's, Archer's, and Roy's cute asses, I don't. So NYEH.

Warnings: KimbleyxArcher LURVE.

Summary: Archer hated hating Kimbley. ArcherxKimbley

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His knowledge of the Crimson's Alchemists' death had been brief, and short-lived. All had been known was that ass of a killer chucking a State Alchemist with a dark mop of hair over a wall. Who the hell was to know it was Kimbley of all people?

Damn prodigy twerp interrupted him. He was set on getting rid of this pathetic excuse for a town, damnit! He didn't need petty details like the fact that the whole place about to go BOOM and Zap and BaNG while all the sad excuses for human beings were sacrificed to become a Philosopher's Stone! No I tell you!…

Okay, so he really did need to know.

…Not as if that ever stopped him.

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Kimbley was a good guy, honest! As much of a heartless bastard as he acted, he just wanted to have fun with some of the uptight military people with sticks shoved so far up their asses, they couldn't even walk straight!

…wait, was that a stick or Kimbley's fault?

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Archer was a tight-ass.

…No, he wasn't a virgin, he was just really really paranoid-which was a surprise for being a crazed, slightly deranged, and war-obsessed psychopath.

He was always frightened that someone-who shall not be named-would go and jump him, mug him, molest him, rape him, all in a matter of 52.6 seconds.

Yes.

Archer was a tight-ass.

Extremely.

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Kimbley loved someone.

He wouldn't admit it anyone-(insert pregnant pause here)-but he was.

And the strange thing was…

That person looked just like him. (1).

…So did that mean he was raping himself?

…Well it's not as if himself objected to it.

I mean, himself would be purring sensuously as himself decided to thrust into himself and himself released himself into himself and-

Okay, this was getting disturbing.

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"I despise caffeine."

"How can you even taste it, Kimbley? You're dead."

"Exactly. It used to be able to make me forget things. Now it's only making me think."

"…like candy for children…"

Two dark-haired State Alchemists glared into the blandness surrounding the Gate. DAMN was death depressing.

"…hey. Archer."

"What."

"…feel up to sex?"

---

Sure, death was depressing. The Gate sucked, and he was supposed to be an evil guy, as was Kimbley.

…Never stopped him.

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(1) I, personally, think that Archer and Kimbley look disturbingly alike. Besides, it helps the fic.

One: Oh, and the title is one of Rob Zombie's songs from The Sinister Urge.

We: PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!

One: Ho'fuck… ABORT! ABORT THE MISSION! ABORT THE MISSION GODDAMN YOU AND GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, NOW!