A/N: Heh. I was working on the newest chapter of wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, and just opened up another Microsoft Word file and cooked this up. It was kind of rushed, so I apologize—I just want people to know that I'm not dead. :D Enjoy!
Note: This goes by the anime, not the manga, so it's here's a bigass spoiler warning for those who haven't watched all the episodes. Yeah, I haven't read enough of the manga to write fan fiction about it. I'm lame like that. And yes, it's basically a flashback sequence about why Hoenheim left Dante and Envy. And since Envy's true name isn't revealed, I only refer to past!Envy as Envy at the beginning. Just needed to clear that up.
Envy (or, at least, the child who would conceive if you will him) had always been a mean little boy. When he was young, all he did was pester his father and complain about worthless, trivial things. He came from a generally rich family, so he had everything he wanted. Though his mother was a sadistic bitch and his dad just sat there, all was well. They were just a big, happy family.
…Not really.
"DAAAAAAD!" the child called. "I WANNA GO OUTTTTTTSIIIIIIIIDDDDDDEEEE!"
Hoenheim just sighed and buried his face in his hands. That screech woke him up every single morning. How he hated that screech. It kind of scared him how his kid was the damn opposite of him—meaning he was rude. And brown-nosed. And didn't really take an interest in women (Hoenheim hated this even more). Dante was nowhere in be seen, as always, probably terrorizing people somewhere. Hell, she dedicated her weekends to just that.
But Hoenheim would just suck it up and take it. But it pissed him off how his lover was about twenty times as dominant as he was—when it came to everything. Sex was like freaking rodeo; walks in the park were like relay races; she was always the first in line to fill her plate at dinner (which meant remotely nothing for everyone else)…When he told his (imaginary) friends about it, they'd be, "Oh, it's just a phase!" or "You're the man—but shit, she's really creepy…" So when Hoenheim's son tottered downstairs, the words pretty much escaped him. What words, you ask?
"Son, am I…scary?"
The blond child raised an eyebrow. Hoenheim gulped and hoped to God that this would be like any other time…meaning his son would just straight up lie to him. A lie was a lie, yes, but hearing it out loud would just make his confidence soar.
"Well, of course not."
His son was just a WALKING loophole.
"W-what?"
"I SAID, of course not! You're just like…a big teddy bear. You're all hairy and stuff, too, and you're big and smelly. Kind of like a tree…after a dog's had its way with it. But it doesn't really matter—Mom's scary enough for the both of you."
The older Elric couldn't help but die a little on the inside. He shooed his son off and slouched back in his chair.
He couldn't take it. He was as manly as they came—!! Women fell to their knees for him, and their clothes basically FELL off. He was charming, romantic, and God dammit, he looked absolutely fabulous in a suit.
But maybe that was the problem…?
"I…have to get buff."
So from that day forward, Hoenheim worked his ass off, and after a few weeks, he was so buff and massive, it was kind of hard not to be irked if he even looked at you. Men started hitting on him, too, so as soon as that began, that ended his work-out plans. It seemed like forever since he'd seen his wife, so that following night at dinner, he decided to prove himself.
"Whooooooa." Hoenheim's only son's eyes were like saucers. He hadn't seen his father for a bit, too, so this was a surprise. "Damnnnnnn, Dad! You're…you're…HUGE!"
"Why, yes. Yes I am."
They took their seats at the dinner table. In stocked Dante, her plate looking as though it weighed twenty pounds. She sat down at the middle of the table, as she always did, causing Hoenheim to twitch (it always made him twitch—she always sat where the man of the family should have!). She reached for the pepper, then paused. She looked Hoenheim up and down, bottom lip puckering out.
She asked, "Are you the one who's been sending me those letters?"
Hoenheim's jaw dropped a little. "Take another guess…?"
Dante was silent for a second. She extended her hand and made a little picture frame with her fingers over Hoenheim. "Muscular physique, really stupid hair, dumbfounded expression…Hoenheim, right?"
"Yes, it's me."
"Ah, yes—sorry, I forgot your name for a split second." She turned back to her plate and picked up her fork and knife. "Carry on."
Hoenheim gritted his teeth. "Don't you notice anything different?"
"This steak tastes a little different…Damn, am I going to have to stone another one of the cooks? They know I don't like doing that to them…"
Hoenheim was red with anger now. "N-n-not…quite…"
Dante's expression lightened. "Oh! You have a new coat, hm? It looks okay, I suppose. But brown makes you look fat."
"You're getting warmer…"
"Uh…new lighting?"
Hoenheim just about burst a vessel.
"NO, YOU IDIOT. I HAVE MUSCLES NOW—!!! AND I'M TOUGHER. I WANT TO BE THE MAN OF THIS RELATIONSHIP, DAMMIT, BUT FROM THE WAY YOU'RE ACTING, IT'S AS IF YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HAS THE PENIS! I WANT SOME RESPECT!"
Dante chewed her food slowly, and swallowed. "…What did you say your name was again?"
"…I'm outta here."
The End.