DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Period. So sad.

a/n: So I really really really should be working on Teacher's Pet, but I got distracted! I'm sorry, I hope this'll help tide you guys over! Gomen!! Thanks to everyone for such great reviews and putting up with my fanfic ADD.

This began as a self-initiated dare. I was doing this really funny quiz where you assign your favorite characters numbers and then you answer questions based on number pairings (ex, 'what pickup line would 8 use on 2?'). One of them came up with this pairing, and I was like, "DUDE. This makes a shitload of sense. I'll write it." So, I did.

This is actually a preview of my next story, "Legacy" (to be written after Teacher's Pet). It will happen later in the plot, so it's basically a teaser. Also, this isn't the main pairing. That would be RoyxEd.

THIS IS MEANT TO BE SOMEWHAT SKETCHY. I mean it, I'm warning you it's a bit squicky. (I've never used that adjective before; hope I'm using it right.)

Seven pages in Microsoft Word, yadda yadda yadda. Rated M, read at own risk, yadda yadda yadda.

"You look so much like your brother." A sentiment that came from each soul he met. He felt like he was living in a shadow, the shadow of some unreal legend that he never had the courtesy of being acquainted with. It had first begun when he received his brother's old clothes for his twelfth birthday; so delighted he'd been that he donned the red coat instantly, and took the resulting comments as praise. But Alphonse Elric didn't want to be some doppleganger, taking the place of a prodigy. It was a position he had been unwillingly thrust into, and behind his sunny exterior was a subtler demeanor; jealous and obsessive.

He sometimes questioned his motives for finding his brother; it had been four years ago, dammit, shouldn't he have given up? It was devastating at first, having to cope with the fact that Edward was gone, but now he had settled and he'd moved on. So what had driven him to this near madness, this intent on finding him? He remembered nothing, maybe that was why. Winry often spoke of a time "back then" when he was apparently a different person. When Ed was alive. It was madness within him, this unknowing, that drove him to near insanity. Alphonse often couldn't stand it.

It wasn't until he exploded at Winry did he notice his peculiar psychological behavior; no person in their right mind would get so upset about such a trivial phrase, right?

"SHUT UP!" he yelled.

"But, Al I was just-"

"Yeah, I know what you were just," he sneered angrily, "'Oh, Al, you're so much like him,' 'Al, you've got your brother's eyes,' 'Sorry, Al, I didn't mean to call you Edward, it's just that you're his fucking twin--'"

"Alphonse!" Pinako's sharp voice cut into his. "I won't tolerate that sort of language in my house! I thought we raised you better!"

"Yeah, me too," he muttered, spinning on his heels and walking quickly out the door. He was nearly positive that it came off the hinges slightly when he slammed it shut.


He set a quick pace to the river, Edward's boots clomping along the gravely road as he walked. Winry was probably following him, but he didn't care. Why should he? That girl was nothing but a nuisance to him. Always so emotional, especially when he was trying to do research! He needed to concentrate! He needed to be able to work without having some girl look at him with eyes she saved for his brother!

Alphonse set his pace quicker, made long, brisk strides along the riverbank. He didn't know where he was going, he didn't know if Winry was following him, and he didn't know where his brother was.

But there was one thing he did know.

He needed Edward back. He needed his brother to arrive and take his throne back so Alphonse could melt away quietly into the shadows.


He'd already gone farther than he and his brother had ever gone, and the sun was beginning to set. A bloody shade stained the sky and silhouetted the craggy hillside. Alphonse shivered and wrapped his brother's coat tighter around him, pressing the two arrays on his palms together to fuse the cloth.

"Shit," he whispered as a gust bit at his face. That was the problem with Risembool, they'd always said, the only middle ground was three weeks in the middle of spring. Now that summer was fading, the nights had begun to drop violently in temperature.

A large, arc-shape shadow loomed about fifty feet away from him in the growing mountain. As Alphonse neared it, He realized it was a small cavern, and stepped in, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness for a moment in order to look around. The remaining sunlight shone through in small holes in the ceiling, and it was obvious that no one had been in there due to the abundance of spiraling rock formations on both ground and ceiling. Taking another step further in, Alphonse discovered that it went quite deep into the hillside, far deeper in fact than the shadows alluded to. Still squinting in the near-complete darkness, he let his eyes roam, until they caught upon something shining in the corner rather unnaturally. It shifted a bit and Alphonse froze, heart pounding. There wasn't anything there, he tried to tell himself, no one had been in the cave before. It was a trick of his eyes.

"Well, well," scratched a voice from the darkness. It was an eerily high-pitched voice, almost childish, but the tone clearly alluded to a creature experienced in cruelty.

"W-Who's there?" he said, too quickly.

"Don't you recognize me?" it spat. The shining objects moved again, this time accompanied by a metallic shifting sound that seemed quite nostalgic.

Alphonse braced himself; the shifting appeared to be moving into a dim patch of light.

"I believe the more important question would be to ask who you are," the thing said softly, in a childish voice with undertones of malice. As it stepped into view even the light itself seemed to shied from its pale body and startling metal appendages. Its face was almost totally obscured by long, unkempt black hair, save for two violet eyes with pupils like slits.

"Alphonse Elric," he whispered, trying to push the fear from his voice. The thing seemed to falter for a moment, but quickly regained its air.

"Do you know what it is like, Alphonse Elric," it asked, "to lose?"

Al shook his head slowly, unsure how to answer.

"Of course you don't," said the thing almost placidly, and Alphonse would have taken it as soothing if its eyes weren't burning with hatred. "You couldn't possibly know what its like to have to live, DAY after DAY, knowing you have become that which you had despised the most! You couldn't possibly know what it was like to watch everything around you fall to PIECES and just fucking SIT THERE!" It was yelling through clenched teeth now, taking forceful steps into the light. "You couldn't POSSIBLY know what it was like, knowing that there's no death to look forward to, that you can't even fucking end it."

Alphonse gasped as it dug it's steel fingers into the flesh of its left arm, sinking to his knees and leaving deep, bloody gashes. But as he ran to help the unholy creature, its skin seemed to reconnect; the wounds seemed to vanish.

"What are you?" he whispered in fearful awe.

"I am a sin," it replied coldly, spitefully, and it rose, almost like a puppet being pulled to its feet. It stalked towards him and Alphonse felt his heart flutter with increasing panic. He raised his hands, ready to slam them together at a moment's notice. The sin paused.

For a moment, a single, terrifying moment, the thing pierced him with its violet, serpentine eyes.

And then it laughed.

It started as a corner of that mouth curling up, displaying inhumanly sharp teeth. Then a giggle. Then it was clutching its stomach with mismatched arms and laughing cruelly.

Alphonse stared, dumbfounded, taken aback and yet still on edge.

"You are!" it shrieked in childish glee. "You look like him, you act like him! You've become your brother!" Al set his jaw and balled his fists at his side, waiting for the thing's hilarity to subside.

"Shut up," he muttered lowly, not loud enough for the thing to hear him.

Or so he thought, for its giggling abated to fix him with a lazy, violet stare.

"Does that bother you?" it almost crooned, as if it took great amusement in the fact. Alphonse didn't answer, averted his eyes and studied a spiraling stalagmite protruding from the cavern floor. He heard footsteps and looked up, saw the creature walking towards him.

"You do look so much like him," he murmured, and Al was sure it was a 'he' because he could blushingly see the identifying anatomy through the thing's tight black shorts.

"I thought you were his ghost, come to take me back to the Gate at last..." Al's heart skipped a beat.

"The Gate?" he breathed, momentarily forgetting his fear towards the boy-creature. "What do you know about the Gate?" The thing's tight lips curled into a faint, cold smile as it stopped about ten feet in front of him.

"It's hell in there," he sang with cruel joy. Al gritted his teeth.


"Who are you?" he whispered. The boy's lips curled upward to reveal his sharp teeth and Alphonse shivered, thought to himself on how much he did not want to see those teeth again.

"I am a piece of the forgotten past," the boy began lowly, "I am a child who was abandoned by mother and creator and God. I am the only one left who remembers the horrors of the day Edward Elric was swallowed up by the Gates of HELL!"

Alphonse flinched; the boy seemed as if he were going to explode with fury. But instead of screaming as he had feared, he looked up and spoke softly, as if reciting, with a deadly calm.

"I was cursed from the moment I was named," he breathed, voice dripping with venom. "I am Wrath."

Al shivered uncontrollably. There was something eerily fitting about Wrath's name, something in the back of his mind that chimed like a clearly-rung bell.

Look at him, it said, he has automail like Brother did! And for once, Al could, for the boy's tirade had brought him into a patch of fading sunlight that made the steel limbs gleam in striking contrast with the rest of his pale body. Alphonse studied it; tried to map out its every detail, this one remaining part of Edward that stood before him. His gaze brought his eyes to the boy's, which were fixed on his own.

"Intrigued?" Wrath whispered, walking towards him with his steel arm extended for show, "I don't blame you. They're fascinating."

Al kept his eyes locked on the arm cautiously even as it was offered to him with playful elegance. The metal glinted in the dim light of the cavern, and Alphonse's eyes followed the line of it up to the shoulder, then snapped to the burning violet orbs that inhabited the sin's head, asking for permission.

"Go ahead," Wrath said lowly. "Indulge yourself. I have all the time in the world."

An offer he couldn't refuse.


Alphonse grasped the steel hand, gently, marveling at the perfection of each digit. He let it rest in his own, felt the weight of the metal and wondered briefly if this was what it had felt like when he held his brother's hand.

Wrath stood passively towards the expression of awe that crept onto Alphonse's face.

"...There's more than the hands," the sin said finally, nonchalantly. He rolled his hand over so it was palm up, offering the blond another eyeful to devour.

"What does it feel like?" Al breathed in wonder. Wrath grinned in a sinister fashion, withdrew his arm and traced a single metal digit up and down his own pale arm.

"Where?" the sin whispered. Al gulped nervously, shivered just a little as he followed the steel with his eyes.

"Everywhere," he breathed without thinking, barely audible. The metal hand paused and Al flicked his eyes to Wrath's face, where the ghost of a smile had settled into place. He put the metal hand on his hip in mock annoyance, but the tips of metal digits resting in the crease of his thigh made Al hold his breath at the seemingly teasing gesture. Something about this was getting far too real, out of control...

It was also making his pants tighten in a familiar manner that seemed quite inappropriate for such a situation.

Alphonse fidgeted a bit; his eyes burned but he refused to blink. He couldn't, not when they were locked on that hand, inching closer to --

In one smooth movement, Wrath cupped his metal palm firmly over the front of his form-fitting black shorts and moaned. Al gulped nervously, felt a small bit of sweat slide down his neck. What the fuck was going on here? When had this turned sexual? But as he began to try and trace the chain of events back, the metal digits curled and rubbed, fucking fondled him into hardness. Al drew in a sharp breath, unable to draw his eyes from the fuckingDELICIOUS scene before him...

"What are you doing?" he hissed out as loudly as he could manage, which was a small whisper. This was scary, how he was reacting to this --

And even though he couldn't see it, he knew that those teeth were being displayed prominently in a devilish grin.

I thought it was supposed to be Wrath, not lust, he thought to himself. And suddenly, there was something else besides arousal as well that was cultivating in his system; something that nudged insistently at the back of his mind like an old memory.

The spell was momentarily broken when the sin moaned again, causing Al's eyes to whip to his face.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd," Wrath began softly, between pants, "that we seem to be two halves of a whole?" Alphonse didn't answer, tried to keep his gaze fixed on the sin's face which was contorting beautifully in pleasure--

Wrath's arm left his crotch and he strode towards the blond, who was apparently rooted to the spot he stood at. The sin didn't stop until they were nose to nose, violet eyes piercing auburn ones.

"Who knows what will happen if we unite the two?" he said lowly, dangerously.

Alphonse didn't move, made no sound, didn't breathe, not even when the sin's lips pressed against his own in a demanding caress. It sent a jolt through his body, a fluttering awareness of contact that sent a rush of heat into his groin and a returning tickle to his mind. He felt a tongue poke at his lips and he reflexively tightened them in embarrassment.

"Come on," Wrath murmured, causing a buzzing sensation on his lips. Cautiously, Alphonse parted his lips and let the sin's tongue slither in to stroke his own. It was a creepy feeling, not that he hadn't felt it from the odd date before, but certainly it was not like this. The tension and awareness of the situation contributed to Al's own arousal and he shivered a bit; felt Wrath drink it in. The sin wrapped a cold automail arm around his back and fit their bodies together, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, and groin to groin. Al couldn't help grinding just a little with the hot pressure on his cock, and the sin's tongue in his mouth danced as if in delight. A contented moan.

"Yeah," Wrath said softly, breaking their lips for a moment.

Alphonse's head spun. He opened his eyes only to stare into the sin's face, the closed pale eyelids which fluttered slightly in pleasure of the moment... It was scary that this was happening, and Alphonse could hear the blood pounding in his ears even as Wrath's tongue slid inside his mouth. The sin withdrew, a look of annoyance gracing its features.

"Just let the fuck go," he hissed, "I'm going to do this whether you like it or not, so you might as well fucking enjoy it."

Alphonse gulped in nervousness as silence reigned for a second.

Fuck it.

As Wrath moved to reclaim his mouth, Alphonse slipped an arm around the sin's back and let his tongue invade him.


It was so different. He had kissed girls, who often yeilded when a man's tongue slid into their sweet caverns, but Wrath was aggressive. Alphonse shivered, felt his cock stir more as the sin quickly found all of the most sensitive places in his mouth and exploited them shamelessly. Fuck, it felt good, and he couldn't help arching up a bit and grinding against an offered thigh in front of him. An automail arm snaked between their bodies and Alphonse was momentarily afraid that he had done something wrong, but only until it found the front of his pants. He broke away, using all of his willpower not to moan as Wrath undid the button and eased the zipper down.


"Relax," Wrath murmured. "Not like I haven't done this before to myself."

That's supposed to help me relax? Al thought in a bit of disbelief. Most of the blood had already left his brain, making him quite lightheaded and all of his feelings more potent. He steeled himself as Wrath's inhuman, devilish teeth teased his ear, as his mismatched arms pulled both his pants and boxers down, as a steel hand reached up to grasp his aching cock. The automail felt... bizarre. The sin was obviously used to wielding it, knowing exactly how much pressure to put on his cock and exactly how good it would feel. Alphonse gripped onto Wrath's shoulders tighter, shuddering as he tried to restrain himself from thrusting raggedly and ripping his delicate skin. It felt so good though, how perfectly the sin fondled it in those metal digits. It wasn't anything like he was used to doing on himself, there was never this... restraint.

"What does it feel like?" Wrath breathed into his ear, causing a shiver to run down the blond's spine. Alphonse could barely manage a grunt under the pleasure that was coiling inside him and he could feel the sin's answering smirk.

"I know," he crooned understandingly, almost sympathetically, "I just don't know how your brother restrained himself all those years..." But Alphonse was too far gone to care, and Wrath's murmurings didn't even register in his mind. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was slightly open in almost disbelief of the sheer amount of pleasure he was feeling, yet his throat refused to work. Unnoticed by him, however, was the pale hand that had began to stroke and pump the sin's own erection. Alphonse was lost, so close to release yet not able to thrust enough to cum. He moaned, then realized hazily that Wrath was the only one who could make him – and wasn't letting him.

"Fuck," he ground out, panting, "Come on... Let me --" His breath caught hard when the sin squeezed, and it took all of his willpower not to buck in those blessedly constricting steel fingers. Then again, and again, and Alphonse's back arched violently as orgasm finally overtook him with a long and low groan.

Epiphany rushed through him and suddenly memories he'd never known existed revealed themselves to him; a young Winry's shocked face as his brother's blood spilled off an armor body onto the carpet; a strange hybrid of a dog and a girl; a little boy with black hair peering out of a forest on an island.

"Oh God," he whispered, bringing himself back to reality. He hung clammily to Wrath as he came down, weak after his violent climax. Wrath himself had cum only moments before, but Alphonse was so hazy-minded that he didn't notice the white liquid dripping down his leg.

He didn't know what to do as coherency slowly returned. He felt as though it was no longer necessary to be leaning his forehead on Wrath's chest with eyes shut tight, but embarrassment kept him frozen in place. The awkwardness that he felt only multiplied tenfold when he opened his eyes blearily to see the sin's flesh hand still wrapped around his own spent cock. Alphonse lifted his head jerkily with a blush and averted his eyes.

Silence reigned for a few gut-wrenching moments as he frantically tried to think of something to say. "Thank you" sounded stupid, and Alphonse was sure that he'd never muster the courage to say something like "that felt good".

"...I..." he began after a few moments, "...have to... go." Blushing furiously, he walked quickly out of the cave with mixed thoughts, feeling the sin's piercing violet gaze on him the entire way out.

a/n: Wow. That came out... sketchier than I'd planned. It served a purpose, though. I actually am VERY proud of this one. It was NOT meant to be very "smutty", because I see "smut" as something one is supposed to enjoy. This wasn't meant to be as enjoyable as my normally enjoyable M-rated goodness. It was meant to be dark and sketchy M-rated goodness. If you liked it, then I guess I have work to do on my "dark and sketchy"-ness.