Understanding

Author’s Notes: (I’ve decided to put these up here now.) In all my stories, both partners are at least 18 years old. It’s the only way I don’t feel dirty writing this. Needless to say, most of my fics take place after episode 51 and therefore are AU.

FMA does not belong to me and I make no profit from any of these tales. Any further archiving of my fiction is strictly prohibited unless cleared by me.

PART ONE
Understanding

A cold hand pinned both of hers above her head. Her body lurched forward as he drove into her and she begged him to stop.

She had found him, naked and covered in blood, by the river. He was shaking and cold from the rain and she had known right away what had happened. She didn’t ask who did it, just took him back home to clean his wounds.

He grunted and threw his head back in ecstasy. His eyes were closed, and she wished that she could peer into his golden iris. Just to see if he was even still in there.

He didn’t speak to anyone for weeks as he healed. Not her, or Al, or Pinako. Then one day, he had taken her, suddenly and willingly, on the kitchen table. It had been hasty and frantic. Their bodies came together like a force of nature and she had cried out in pain as her innocence was taken. He had apologized afterward.

His head dropped down to her shoulder and she could feel his warm breath on her neck. He gasped as his hips continued to drive deep and hard into her.

Nearly every night they met. Each time they were together she could feel the frustration building inside him. He was holding something back, afraid to show her what he needed. Every time, she asked him, “What do you need?” Every time, all he said was, “You.”

His normal hand held her leg up around his hips, allowing him to spread her open as far as he pleased.

One night, it had rained, like the night she found him. He wasn’t in his room so she had followed her instincts and found him sitting on a boulder overlooking the river. The rain masked his tears and she could tell that it was a bad night.

Her hips bucked, trying to throw him off. She choked out a gasp; it was useless, he was much stronger than her.

He didn’t say anything, just kissed her hard on the lips, pulling her arms behind her back. She didn’t protest, it was still gentle in a way. She asked her question, not expecting a different answer. “Tell me to stop.”

“Do it.” He demanded

She had been confused by his request, but there was pain in his eyes and his hands were still pinning hers. “Stop it.” The plea was weak, she didn’t want him to stop, but he needed to hear her say it.

“Ed, please stop.” She complied.

He had forcefully turned her around, bent her over the rock, pulled her skirt up and drove into her. Caught off guard, she gasped. His thrusts were faster and more frenzied than usual and she had cried out in pleasure. “No,” he told her, still holding her hands behind her back, “…tell me ‘no’.”

Her leg was thrown high up over his shoulder and his body rose up to tower over her. The angle drove him even deeper.

Hesitantly, she did as he asked. She couldn’t see his face but when she looked back, his eyes were closed. He never looked at her when they played this game.

Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure through her clit. His pace shook her whole body and she shut her eyes tight.

The pouring rain muffled the screams he told her to cry out and afterwards, he had cried. She could feel the warm salty tears fall on her back and mix with the cold of the rain. Sliding down, she held him in her arms as he sobbed and apologized over and over again. She told him it was alright. He didn’t hurt her, all these times now he never once hit her or held her down too hard. He didn’t have it in him to really hurt her. That just made him weep harder. She stroked his damp hair and cooed gently in his ear. She wanted to tell him that ‘it was alright, it was just a game’, but it hadn’t been a game when it had happened to him.

His hold on her had become weak but she didn’t try to break it. Her cries had shortened till all she could manage to squeak out was “Please…” The tightness was building for both of them but she held back. One more thrust and he came inside her. No matter how hard their sex had been, his climax was always gentle. She let go at this point, riding out her waves of pleasure on his slow pace.

He didn’t look at her afterward and she tried her best to make him not feel ashamed. She understood. His power had been forcefully taken from him, his will stripped and his body desecrated. He needed to understand why someone would do that.

He let her go but still remained limp on top of her. Running a comforting hand through his loose hair, she waited for the inevitable. “I’m sorry.” Gathering his clothes, he silently left the room, taking with him the red bandana wrapped around her doorknob; their symbol that the game had started.

As the door clicked shut, she slipped on her nightgown and tried to get some rest. He was getting better. She wasn’t sure if it was just time that was healing him or if it was her cooperation. He needed control and dominance now, and she allowed him that of her body. She trusted him completely and knew that it didn’t come from any real desire to hurt her.

Tomorrow she would wake up, pleasantly sore, but she’d still be Winry and Ed would still be broken. But another day would pass, bringing him that much closer to being whole again.

Until that day came, she’d be there for him.