Fic: The Hunter Takes His Prey

[said_scarlett]

Title: The Hunter Takes His Prey
Author: theladyfeylene
Fandom: FMA
Pairing: Scar/Roy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dubious consent, power struggles.
Word Count: 2373
Summary: The alchemist had been foolish, chasing Scar without his soldiers and his woman. There was no one to come to their aid, no one to stop them.
Author's Notes: This is a gift fic! I hope that it's enjoyed. :D Also, huge, huge thanks to zinjadu for going over this with me and helping me work out a few plot points and even providing some key dialogue. And for the hilarious conversations that ensued while discussing it, including such gems as 'Go Roy! He's giving it as good as he's getting it!' and 'Roy is now scarred for life'.




The alchemist had drawn first blood. Scar leaned heavily against an alley wall, blood dripping from a gash across his shoulder. He hadn’t moved quick enough, the blast from the alchemist’s glove taking out a chunk of building beside him, the shrapnel catching him even as he twisted away from it. Flame was good. Very good.

“This has gone on long enough!”

Scar grunted, his breathing heavy from the fight and from his wound. It had gone on long enough, but it wasn’t going to be over until one of them were dead. And Scar intended for it to be the alchemist.

“You can die like a coward, hiding in an alley, or you can come out and die with dignity!”

“It is you who will die on this day!” Scar pressed his hand against the wall behind him, pushing himself away from it as he deconstructed its pieces, blocking the mouth of the alleyway. He shook the dust from his hair, the gash on his arm stinging from the irritation.

He leapt over the rubble, aiming for the rooftops. The town was long abandoned, victim to some plague years ago. There was none to come to aid either of them. Scar pulled himself up but Flame was on his heels, already climbing over the debris that littered the streets. Damn! Scar growled in irritation, sending another line of rocks at the alchemist. They met a line of fire, and the explosion that resulted sent both men off of their feet and falling to the street below.

Pain shot through Scar’s injured arm, his shoulder aching from impact. The alchemist had fallen beside him, on his back. He wasn’t moving.

Scar pushed himself up until he was sitting, muscles groaning from strain. Was the alchemist dead, or merely stunned? Scar knelt on one knee, straddling the downed alchemist, and reached to feel for a pulse. The alchemist’s skin was warm under his hand, and a pulse jumped against his fingers. Flame was still alive.

“Not for long,” Scar muttered under his breath. Before he could move to inflict the killing blow, the alchemist’s hand was around his wrist.

“You waited too long, alchemist killer.”

“I can kill you now.” Scar sneered. His tinted glasses had been lost in the blast, and his eyes blazed red in the afternoon sun.

“And I can kill you.” The alchemist’s gloved hand was raised, thumb and forefinger pressed together to snap. The other was torn, destroyed in the blast. “So the question is, which one of us is quicker?”

“You would burn me,” Scar hissed, the muscles in his arm rippling as he flexed his wrist in the alchemist’s grip. “The way you burned them. I saw the destruction you left in your wake, Flame Alchemist. I saw the bodies. Do they haunt you? The women, the children…”

“I’d ask the same of you.”

“I’ve only killed those who deserve it!” It would be so easy, to tear him apart right there. To pull him apart from the inside.

“Tell that to their wives and children.”

Scar’s jaw tensed, his teeth clenching together like a vice. What were the wives and children of murders? They lived, didn’t they?

“You have neither,” Scar said. He could feel the hectic beating of the alchemist’s heart under his hand. Flame was frightened.

“No. I don’t.” Was he sweating yet? Was the threat of death hot on his throat, or cold? “But do you think that the military will let this rest? With how many you‘ve killed, how many you plan to kill?”

“They will stop me when God decides it is time.” Scar could see the man thinking, searching for anything that would delay his death.

“They will. But do you think the killing will end with you? It will start with you. Who’s to say someone else won’t take up your cause? Another one of your people?”

“This is my task!”

“You can’t prove that.” The alchemist was smiling now, a faint phantom of a grin. “The military’s tried to wipe your people out before. You’re only giving them further reason to.”

“And you would stop this?” Scar laughed then, not taking his eyes off of the alchemist. “You, who killed alongside of them before?”

“It was a war.” The alchemist twitched his shoulders, an imitation of a shrug.

“A war.” Another barking laugh. Scar shook his head and suddenly the alchemist moved. Scar’s hand was torn from his throat and the alchemist’s hips jerked, knocking him to the ground. There was a great pain below his ribs and his breath caught in his throat and then was gone. He sprawled onto his back, his breathing laboured and heavy.

“You!” The word came out gasped and strained, Scar’s breathing impaired by the blow the alchemist had struck him.

“You lost focus.” The alchemist was on top of him now, pinning him down. Scar twisted his right wrist, seeking purchase on the cobblestone with his fingertips but the alchemist didn’t allow it.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Scar flexed, but he was still weak from whatever it was the alchemist had done to him. He lay momentarily helpless beneath Flame, pain in his head and his shoulder torn open once more in the struggle. “Do it now, if you’re going to.”

“And make you a martyr?” The alchemist shook his head. What was stopping him? Scar was immobile, defenseless. Or perhaps the alchemist had no stomach for close range killing.

“I will kill you, even if you let me go.”

“I don’t plan on letting you go.” The alchemist leaned down, stretching his body out over Scar’s. Scar recoiled, the glint of steel in the alchemist’s hand making his lips twitch. And then he noticed something else. So did Flame.

They froze, the alchemist laid out over Scar, both men at the same time growing aware of the warm, insistent flesh that pressed against Scar’s hip. Apparently it caught both of them by surprise. The alchemist glanced down, his eyes wide and a tightness gripping his lips. Did the alchemist often find himself aroused when grappling with his prey?

“I…”

Scar didn’t care what the man had to say. He had been handed an advantage on a silver platter. The alchemist was off balance. Scar had caught his breath, though it still came shortly. Smirking, he lifted his hips against the alchemist. Not to unseat him but to stimulate him. If he grew so aroused from clothed skin sliding against clothed skin, Scar imagined deliberate stimulation would only disrupt him further.

“What are you doing?” There was a panicked note to Flame’s voice now and Scar let a smile curve up his lips. The alchemist wasn’t pulling away.

“Is this why you hesitated?” Scar doubted it. The alchemist was still hard against him though. What would his heart feel like now?

“No…” A hitch to the alchemist’s voice. Scar had no great love of men as bed partners but an advantage was an advantage. He lifted his head, straining his neck to catch the alchemist’s lips in a rough kiss. Flame had soft lips. Scar felt rather than heard the small noise that escaped his lips, a breath of air and a slight movement of the alchemist’s mouth.

“You were foolish,” Scar said, moving his mouth against the alchemist’s. “To come after me alone, without your soldiers, without your woman.”

The alchemist’s hands were tight around Scar’s wrists. Not to pin him but to hold him, Scar could feel the difference. He kissed Flame again, hard enough to bruise, his neck aching from the strain. He could taste sweat and dust on the other man’s lips. He met no resistance, the alchemist’s lips hesitantly returning the unrelenting kiss. Scar tugged his hands out from the alternating tight and loose grip of the alchemist - Flame’s hands flexed in time with his mouth.

Scar could kill him. It would be easy, while the alchemist was distracted. And yet… Scar settled his hands on Flame’s hips, letting his head fall back against the stone. The alchemist’s lips followed him. And why not? There was no one here to witness his shame. And shame it was, Scar knew that in his bones. To fall prey to the enemy, to fall prey to something so basic. And if anyone did find out…

Scar rolled them over, trapping the alchemist’s body beneath him. He saw the moment of panic in Flame’s eyes, caught the other man’s hands even as they jerked up in defense. Flame wrenched his body, his hip snapping up against Scar’s thigh. Even now they were struggling against one another.

Scar’s movements were slow, calculated. He brought one of the alchemist’s hands to his lips, his thumb pressed into the white fabric that covered the man’s palm. Slowly, deliberately, he sucked the alchemist’s index finger into his mouth. Flame groaned, his hips arching upwards. Scar ran his tongue along each inch of the finger. The alchemist jerked beneath him as Scar’s tongue tip circled around his knuckle. The gesture was repeated on Flame’s thumb. He locked his eyes on the alchemist’s, his teeth snagging the tip of the thumb of the glove. He drew at the cotton-like fabric, pulling it with agonizing slowness over the alchemist’s hand.

“My glove…”

“Is wet,” Scar said around the fabric in his mouth. He moved his teeth to the next finger, tugging at it as his thumb made small circles on the alchemist’s wrist. He tossed the glove aside, and the alchemist was defenseless against him now. He pinned Flame once more, holding his wrists together in one hand. The other tore at the buttons of his jacket, exposing the alchemist’s throat. He lowered his head, pressing his lips to the point where the pulse was. He tasted the erratic pounding of Flame’s heart and it was flavored with sweat.

“Why?”

“Because I can.” Scar bit at Flame’s neck, leaving a mark on his skin. He was done with the jacket, it hung open now. Beneath it the alchemist wore a plain white shirt. It clung to his lean body, dampened by his heated skin. Scar tore it open, the fabric ripping easily for him. Flame’s body stretched beneath him, pale skin a stark contrast to Scar’s sun browned flesh. He released the alchemist’s wrists, moving down the other man’s body and leaving a trail of bruised flesh in his wake. He drew the alchemist’s flesh between his lips, his teeth scraping against salt scented skin.

Scar felt hands on his shoulders. Gripping him, digging into the muscle. The wound on his arm pulled, a streak of pain threading through the pleasure he felt from the alchemist’s body. Flame was moving against him urgently, roughly, hungrily. Scar ripped at the buttons of his trousers, pulling them down the alchemist’s hips. The hands on his shoulders were painful.

Flame was slim, his hips lean and pale. He was twisting, whether in resistance or pleasure Scar couldn’t tell. And didn’t care. Scar bit at the arch of Flame’s hip, his teeth feeling the bone beneath. Flame’s hands moved beneath the collar of Scar’s shirt, nails digging into him. He bit down hard on the alchemist’s hip, tasting blood over his lips. Flame cried out, his palms thrusting against Scar’s shoulders. His legs wrenched against Scar, grappling for dominance. Scar moved his head, his lips brushing against the alchemist’s rigid flesh. Flame’s legs went still. Scar chuckled darkly, his breath hot on the alchemist’s arousal. The hands that had been on his shoulders slid to his hair, gripping tightly. Whatever resistance the other man may have had melted away as Scar took him into his mouth, dragging his lips over Flame’s erection as he had the alchemist’s fingers before. He moved his mouth slowly, his tongue pressing flat against hard flesh that rose up eagerly to meet him.

It was growing dark. Scar moved up Flame’s body, re-tracing the path of bruises along his torso. The alchemist thrust upwards against him, bare skin rubbing against Scar. The Ishbalite shifted, bringing his own cloth-covered erection against Flame’s. He sucked at the pulse point of the other man’s throat, feeling the mercurial, irregular thudding of the alchemist’s heart. The ground was hard and cold beneath his knees but Flame was warm. He lived up to his name, his skin flushed and his body writhing. Scar found his mouth again, teeth bruising Flame’s lower lip, tongue demanding entrance. The alchemist returned the kiss, teeth and lips and tongues moving against one another as the two men thrashed together among the rubble.

Flame jerked beneath him, his lips crushing hard against Scar’s as his hips lifted and then went still, flooding them both with warmth. Scar bore down on him, grinding his hips brutally against the alchemist’s to find his own release. He groaned into Flame’s mouth, his erection pressed firmly in the hollow of the alchemist’s naked hip. He narrowed his eyes, even in pleasure his face a mask of anger and resentment. His stony countenance wasn’t broken, even as he growled out his own climax, his body weakening as he fell heavily against the spent alchemist beneath him.

Neither men spoke. Scar rolled off of the other man, dust clinging to his sweat dampened skin. He stood, adjusting his clothing. He glanced down at the alchemist that still lay sprawled on the ground, his shirt torn and his trousers around his knees. His undamaged glove lay next to him, crumpled and dirty in the street. Flame was watching him, following his eyes. Scar took a step back as the alchemist rolled, reaching for his glove.

“I do not intend to kill you this day,” Scar said, his lips a thin line. The alchemist pulled on his glove anyway, and pulled up his pants.

“This day?” he asked, sitting up carefully. There was hatred in his eyes now, both men aware of the power Scar had held over the alchemist in that moment they shared. And the power he still held.

“We will meet again.” Scar nodded once and grabbed a fallen slab of stone, pulling himself up and leaping over it, leaving the alchemist alone with his wounded pride.