Such Is the Life of a Slut
Chapter Nine: Hell (Greed x Archer)
Yes, yes, I know I haven't been super loyal to this fic. But Limey bet that she could finish up her own version of this idea before I could, so you know I'm dedicated now. I won't lose!
Err, anyway, this is sort of an alternate universe chapter. You'll see what I mean in a moment.
And in case I haven't said it, and you haven't figured it out, I own nothing.
This chapter contains mature content. Skip it if you don't want your mind soiled.
Hell, He thought. That's what this is, a living hell.
And indeed, there was no other way to describe the feeling of having one's ass penetrated, claws raked down otherwise flawless skin, and of course, the heated words of pure hatred hissed down at him. No, Frank Archer could not imagine a worse version of hell. That wasn't to say he believed in hell, but it was the only comparison he could come up with at this point in time.
It had all started with a little deal…
"Two weeks? That's way too long to wait. You never know, I might get volatile and blow something up right now."
Kimbley. Archer had heard of the man's exploits in Ishbal and had actually come to like the man despite his obvious faults. Like, certainly not love. The crazy alchemist had a lot in common with the warmongering Lieutenant Colonel, and they'd discovered this over coffee for the past few days, setting down plans for exactly how the Devil's Nest was to be raided, and the Homunculus inside to be destroyed.
But Archer wasn't letting Kimbley in on everything. Never lay all your cards on the table. Unless, of course, you're about to win. That was the standard villain talking though, not necessarily Archer. "Any sooner and my troops won't be properly prepared to take on your friends, the chimeras."
"They're not my friends." Kimbley's voice almost had a hiss to it, like he was disgusted that Archer would even say such a thing.
Archer made a noncommittal noise and examined the sketches on the napkins again. The plan was flawless. Kimbley would let them in late at night, and hopefully evacuate most civilians (that wasn't a necessity though, at least not in Archer's opinion). From there, Kimbley would get the skull of the Homunculus, and the guards would gun down all traces of the chimeras. Shou Tucker would create more later. The skull would serve to get the Homunculus to do whatever the hell Archer wanted; an unprecedented weapon that would send him to the top of the government almost instantly.
It was the perfect plan.
But like all perfect plans, something had to go wrong.
The hotel Archer and Major Armstrong were staying at was a nice, lavish building not far from South Headquarters. Of course the military was covering it, but that didn't mean Archer was about to let himself go. He never did, after all. He instead locked himself up in his room and continued calculating exactly how all this would play out. Should he attempt to threaten the Fuhrer with his Homunculus, or was that going too far…?
He'd underestimated Kimbley, however. The man was mad, his word couldn't be taken so seriously. Archer found that out a bit too late.
The door was quite literally kicked in and Archer was on his feet, gun drawn. "Who the hell--?"
He didn't have to finish, the man standing framed in the doorway could only be the Homunculus talked about. Sharp, pointed teeth, purple eyes behind small sunglasses, and that stupid vest Kimbley often complained about. Not that Archer had actually been listening when Kimbley complained about his sex life with this man, no not at all. "Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer," The creature sneered, walking further into the room, causing Archer to back up until he hit the table. "Nice to finally meet the man Kimbley's told me so much about."
Archer would have cussed, but that was rather crass, and he didn't want to appear weak. "What the hell do you want?"
"That should be obvious." The Homunculus known as Greed smirked. "You tried to get Kimbley to betray me—us—didn't you? You tried to force him into something as horrible as the constraining military?" The shield went up as Archer clicked the safety on the gun off. "You have no idea what you're up against."
Well, not entirely true. He did know that Kimbley couldn't kill him (the alchemist had stressed that many times), and he knew the bullet would ricochet off the shield. It looked to be made of metal, but Archer couldn't tell for sure. He was almost close enough to touch now. "I asked him of his own free will."
"Under the threat that you'd shoot him."
"He would rather serve me than not be able to do anything under you." Shit, how the hell was he going to get out of this one? Archer didn't have anywhere to go, and Greed was directly in the way of the door. The Homunculus was also faster than any human, according to Kimbley, and Archer wasn't exactly a marathon runner. "So you're here to kill me?"
"No." Greed's grin widened to Cheshire proportions. "I'm here to put you through hell."
A loud smack was the last thing Archer heard before he dropped like a stone, out cold to a shielded smack across the face.
It couldn't have been much longer when he awoke, pressed over the table in clear sight of the fixed door, bound and gagged. Shit, what the hell? He could still see, but that only made it worse.
"So, Sleeping Beauty, have a nice nap?" The Homunculus purred, getting up and not showing any signs of embarrassment about dropping his pants.
Three things happened at once in Archer's mind. The first was a thought of Holy hell, he's huge! The second a wave of sincere jealousy, and the third was the word fuck repeated over and over again. Archer wasn't stupid, and he had a damn good reason to suspect that the other was going to fuck him, right over the table in his own hotel room. Talk about a violation of privacy. If he lived through this, he was going to kill that bastard.
"Oh don't worry, you'll start enjoying it after awhile. Then I'll just make it hurt again." Greed seemed very pleased with the situation, and the shield slipped back up again, only causing more reason for Archer to panic.
Hell, He thought. That's what this is, a living hell.