Author's Notes: Betaed now! I have the best beta ^_^ Envy me! Before I get people too excited, I'm probably not going to do all of Moonlit Water Sunny River's 100 Edvy themes, at least not anytime soon, but this one just kind of forced its way out of my head for a number of reasons. Naturally, Edward's question from Moonlit's Cruelty theme, also, and probably most crucially, I wanted to do a BDSM story that wasn't torture porn, because that's the only way I see it represented in literature these days. What's happening in this story is called After Care, and it's a crucial part of any healthy dom/sub relationship. I'm not here to ruin anyone's fantasy or tell anyone you shouldn't read this or that story, I just want to shed light on the emotional aspects of these relationships and further the dialog and understanding about BDSM in general. The third thing that made me write this, well you'll figure it out ^_^

Cruelty

He cradles me in his arms, the cool kiss of the wet cloth teasing my face and neck. I can't even remember the last time I felt so at ease. I don't even try to distract myself from the fact that it's in the arms of Envy that I find this comfort.

I was a little ashamed when he first realized that this was what I wanted, pieced together from the way I always picked fights with him that I craved the pain. I was more surprised than him when I accepted his offer. I knew he would go for it - I wasn't ready to admit how eager I was, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. When the despair gets to be too much all I can do is seek out pain. I don't know if it's some twisted view on equivalent exchange, the idea that suffering must bring me something, or if it's just the physical release I need, but I need the pain. Of all the Homunculi, Envy is easily the cruelest, the most sadistic. They're all dangerous, all without a shred of compassion for humanity, but there's pleasure in Envy's eyes when he hurts someone that I don't see in any of the others. Even Wrath doesn't seem to enjoy inflicting harm as much as Envy - or maybe he just hid it better behind the Fuhrer's face.

I asked for pain and Envy gave it to me, more than I could imagine. I thought after being through the gate, enduring automail surgery and fighting these monsters I couldn't be surprised by pain anymore. I was wrong. I wouldn't admit how terrified I was of what he would do to me when those chains first bound my arms. I knew he couldn't kill me, but there was plenty else you could do without killing someone. Most of all, I dreaded being found out, explaining the marks to Al or Mustang, but I needed this, more than anything.

I wasn't surprised at how much he enjoyed hurting me - I was surprised at how good he was at it. Not just at how he was able to make me hurt, sting, or scream, but how he did it without seriously damaging me. He would drive me to agony just teasing my skin with feathery touches from his hair, bringing all the blood to the surface before raking dull nails across it. I lost all track of time in the throes of his cruel mercies. What surprised me the most was when he had finished. He unbound my arms and sat cross-legged beneath me, pulling me into his lap. I remember the first time so clearly.

"What are you doing?" I asked blearily. I felt so weak in his arms, I could barely move.

He gave a snort. "Have to get you cleaned up. Don't want you marked too badly when you go back to dear Al now, do we?" he said in a mocking tone as I felt a cool rag on my back. My tense muscles softened to jelly under his care. The treating of my injuries felt almost as cathartic as receiving them. It was dark but I could still see red when he would wring out the rag. When he finished, I was left with only the dull ache from some of the bruises and the tenderness of the welts on my back. The cuts were shallow enough to close from the cool rag. "Are you alright?" he asked in a serious, calm tone that seemed so alien to his voice as he held me gently.

"Ya, ya I'm alright." I replied, only partially understanding what he meant by that.

So here we are again, me sitting in his lap like a kid who scraped his knees, and him holding me like a concerned parent as he calms my angry wounds with delicate touches. The tenderness on my neck makes me worried he's left a mark, but he rarely actually does, or at least, not a noticeable one. My eyes drift up to look at his face. His eyes are smiling gently as he cleans the cuts on my chest, even as his mouth twists in a cruel scowl. If I had the strength I would chuckle - I begged him to make me bleed, and he did. I pleaded for him to hit me, and he did. I cried out for him to hurt me again and again, and he did. When I asked him not to damage my automail, he didn't. When I hid my eyes and told him not to touch me there, his hand drew back. When I scowled at him and demanded he not let me think for a moment that he loved me, he complied.

I lean my head against his shoulder and force out in a raspy whisper, my throat still so raw. "Why are you cruel?" I manage to get out, immediately regretting it. Not because I think he'll get mad, or upset, but because I didn't have the breath to ask it properly. Our eyes met and I try vainly to elaborate on my question in his gaze.

How can you be so cruel and still so kind? How do you understand suffering so well? I think as hard as I can, my throat denying me any more speech.

The look in his eyes tells me he understands, or maybe I'm just hoping. His eyes drift down then back up to mine. "Are you alright?" He asks, like he always does, and for the first time I really understand what he's asking.

Are you out of your despair? Do you no longer need to hurt? Are you strong again?

I nod. He looks away and lifts me off his lap, laying me down on the cot and propping me against the pile of pillows and blankets. I can only stare dumbfounded as he lays against me, tucking his head under my chin and pulling my flesh arm around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around me gently and just holds me for a long moment. At first I think the tremors are mine, my exhausted muscles rebelling against some involuntary movement, but as his grip around me tightens I realize he's the one trembling. A choked sob forces itself from between his lips and he buries his face in my chest and curls his legs into my lap, hot tears run down my skin. Instinctively I hold him a little tighter, wrapping my other arm around him as he quakes against me. His cries are agonizing, each one lancing to my heart like a searing cold needle, and I begin to wonder how long this pain has nested inside him. I feel so helpless, just holding him as he suffers, so selfish and guilty. His grip on me shifts slightly as he settles down, the cries giving way to muffled sobs, fading to sniffles and labored breathing.

"Have you ever envied someone?" he asks, his voice shaky. I can't respond. "Ever see someone and be paralyzed by the desperate need to be them?" he continues, choking out the words as if they were barbs. Like barbs his words tear into my heart, as a memory conjures itself in my mind. It was just before I became a state alchemist. Al and I were walking past a restaurant and he stopped to look in the window. I stopped myself from chiding him, knowing as much as it pained him not to be able to enjoy the taste or smell of food, I wouldn't help in reminding him. I looked down the road and saw a family leaving. A mom, a dad, two sons, smiling and laughing. They looked so happy, so carefree, and my heart stung with how bad I wanted to be that boy, smiling at his dad, laughing with his brother. In the few seconds I saw them before they disappeared into a car that want had blackened and twisted into the most awful hate I had ever felt, Al's giant hand on my shoulder brought me back. My eyes sting as the memory fades, and I wrap myself tighter around Envy.

"That's all I feel, that's all I am, the hopeless desire for another's happiness, and the bitter hatred that follows." His voice starts out a little stronger but he begins choking again on the last few words. I think he's going to start crying again, but he takes a deep breath and speaks again. "Can you imagine any crueler act than making me?" he asks as another sob escapes him.

I just hold him silently.

I really can't.