Edward Elric blinked through his sleep, turning from side to side. The bed’s white sheets smelled of roses, of mint. The window had been tilted, sunlight’s beam coming onto the round blue carpet. Golden frames surrounded paintings of waterfalls, forests, desert landscapes and Penguins in the north. A whispered groan left the blond guy’s mouth – and then he heard it! A bird, its feathers like ink, almost flew into the window, correcting in the last second, smacking the glass with its feet and flying away, screeching.
“Holy…!”
I’d awakened him! Sitting up, Edward widened his eyes and gasped. Hand on chest, he grimaced, noticing, against his will, that the escape of dream had gone – and it wouldn’t come back, not until this day had reached its climax. He’d made it through this in the past, knew that he’d stay awake, no matter how hard he’d try for the opposite. Sighing, Edward sat up, his naked feet touching the ground. Kinda scratchy, it went through his head. Shaking the same, Edward pulled back the sleeves of a white, (almost) unbuttoned Shirt – until they’d made it to his elbows. Edward shrugged and stood up, the golden eyes finding the red cupboard in the corner. Couldn’t the owner have painted the walls black or something? That white, mixed with the morning’s sun, was an explosion, right in front of his face.
“Goddamn it,” he murmured.
Hands on hips, He gave himself the luxury of another sigh, looking around. Edward leaned back his head, closed both eyes and sniffed. Oh. Yeah. A grin rented his lips. He shrugged and went down the stairs, stopping next to the open Kitchen-door, leaning against a wall and holding smell’s hands again: He heard meat sizzling in the pan, vegetables being cut, hasty steps, the cooks’ mixing voices. There was another smell from the restaurant: like a break up via letter.
“Coffee,” Edward muttered, delighting.
He beamed, leaving the hotel soon after, one hand around a white coffee-cup, its twin holding a freshly baked bread. Elric’s flipflops moved across the white sand, searching the beach. Dark-green palm-trees swung in the wind. The ocean splashed against the shore. Birds screamed and moved through and around each other, riding the sky. Forests covered the gray mountains’ hills. And on the beach were tents and towels of varying colors and sizes. A familiar young guy rested on an orange one, on his back, arms crossed behind the own head. Round sunglasses were on the face of Alphonse Elric while he stared into the sky. The smell of salt, the power which the wind smashed in their face! Edward couldn’t get enough of it. They’d been traveling for years by now. And here they were, in Yokui, an island-series close to the kingdom of Xing. Here they’d been invited to by an old friend, none other than Ling Yao, the trickster-Royale who’d searched for immortality, fighting King Bradley in the process and allowing the personification of Greed into his self. He’d made it home, establishing his version of a dynasty. Needless to say that his current position came with a shit-tone of a following, making traveling slow, grand and very, very complex. So they’d arrived earlier, waiting for this day, the reunion they’d eagerly awaited. Even now Edward wondered how his old friend had changed. Would anything from the past remain? Something he’d dare to show? He decided not to think about it, (almost) wished the encounter wouldn’t happen. After all: wasn’t anticipation the best of joys? The own joke caused him to snicker. Twenty-two years of age, Edward smiled down at his little brother. Had Alphonse fallen asleep?
“Open your eyes, bro, wakey-wakey!”
Going onto a knee, Edward knocked against the glasses. The only response was a soft snoring. He’d actually…! Frowning, Edward pondered what to do. He studied his brother’s body, his human body, soul and flesh reconnected after years of trapped isolation. Transmutation. Thinking that word was bad enough to keep Edward from speaking. A whip to his throat. Even now he still felt guilt when remembering the misery he’d sent them both through. An all because…
“Oh, hello, there!”
Edward’s whispering jumped into promotion, turning into a gasp. The edge of his mouth twitched. He’d seen it, really, hadn’t he? Biting his lip, he wondered if this much good luck could be real, familiar instincts blossoming. Could such be justified…? Edward decided to reconsider, granting his bro a last ultimatum. Walking back and forth, he consumed both bread and coffee, putting the cup down and crossing the own arms in front of the chest. Opening his mouth, the grin exposed sharply white teeth.
“Well, I gave you the chance,” Edward murmured and winked.
Though he couldn’t keep away from blushing, Edward kneeled and reached, lifting Alphonse’s Trunks a little and exposing the black speedo he wore beneath them. Exactly how he’d hoped. Now he utilized both hands, grabbing trunks and speedo alike. His mouth came close to Alphonse’s ear. The entire body trembled from satisfaction.
“Nerd-Alert, wedgie-airlines leaving on time!”
He YANKED!
“OUGH!”
A shriek came from Alphonse, a rippling racing from head to toe! Attempting to break free, Alphonse merely stumbled and rolled, his elder brother relinquishing control in exactly the right moment. Sand got thrown around. And Edward’s laughter was more so a scream. Hands on belly, it was difficult for him to stay cool. Cheeks red, tears waterfalled across his face. Ultimately, the younger Elric sat up, lips a line of up and down. Hands on his junk, Alphonse blushed and allowed Ed but a glare, embarrassment dancing and swimming in those eyes, splashing against that beach. He’d lost his glasses, too.
“Looks like you’ve got some, uh, work to do,” Edward snickered, pointing at the speedo which covered his brother’s stomach whole.
“Oh, wow, what an insight!”
Alphonse growled and got onto two feet, sand sticking to his chest and limbs. He sighed his frustration and frowned.
“Could you, well, turn around, please?”
Edward tilted his head.
“Why so?”
“Do I have to spell it out?”
“Would that kill you?”
“Is that the bar now?”
“Could you think of a better one?”
“The world got betrayed of a politician when you turn into a science-bitch,” Alphonse spat out, pulling the trunks to the own ankles and picking his wedgie.
The worst part was that his body reacted to male attention, confusing the wedgie’s pressure and tightness for a lover’s care, an erection’s bump pressing the Speedo forward. Including a wet circle.
“Woah.”
Edward’s surprise came through blinking. Covering himself, Alphonse’s fantasies took over. He was holding onto the steel-side of a train, the very thing rushing and racing across the zig-zag-course of northern tracks, wind punching and snow dancing, he well aware that falling down would mean broken bones and blood (at best).
A thin set of rope was beneath their naked feet – no net in sight. Here and there blue crabs side-walked across the beach, their black eyes blinking, melting hearts – had either of the brothers possessed attention to spare. Alphonse felt heat turning his ears red. Biting his lip, the young man looked like a kiddo caught in the act of cookie-stealing. So far as he was concerned, Edward had a hard time getting ride of the widest grin he’d ever carried. Fighting the genocidal “Father” hadn’t been as satisfying. Cracking his knuckles, he sent another set of shivers through his little brother’s body.
“You know, time sure does fly. Just look at you! Thought you’d never get flesh back onto your bones – or a decent haircut, so far as that’s concerned. Holy crap…”
He shook his head.
“We’ve got so much time to make up for. Did my best to protect you, though the discipline has been a little… lacking, if you catch my drift.”
“Discipline?”
Alphonse stared into the blue-green ocean. He was so fucking tempted to jump into it, hoping that it would carry him (and his ass) away from the beating he felt coming. Gulping, Alphonse was hard pressed to speak, no sentences or paragraphs meeting the day’s light. Edward approached.
“Little brother, I think we should get the ball rolling!”
He grabbed Alphonse’s shoulder and pulled him closer! Once he’d secured his brother in a headlock, Edward put a finger into the own mouth and stuck the wet willy’s instrument into Alphonse’s ear!
“EEW!”
Said Elric grimaced and wiggled around. He dug ten fingernails into his bully’s arms and tried to escape, only for Edward’s grip to get tighter. Pulling his little brother across the beach, Edward grinned when the nerd’s resistance (eventually) broke, arms hanging down in direction of the sand, shoulders slumping.
“Ed, come on, please, leave me alone,” Alphonse whined.
Touching his lips with a finger, Edward pretended to consider that – but his strength soon pressed Alphonse’s chest and stomach against a gray wire-fence, holding him in place. Alphonse groaned and pressed his forehead against the fence, hoping to drown in its heat. His knees shook. Anger and fear held each other’s hands and pasod across their stage.
“Ed!”
Little bro’s eyes almost dropped and rolled away when his butt got smacked! Holding the right cheek, Edward squeezed for pure humiliation. He grabbed the speedo with a hand and pulled, merging his power with slow-motion, uncovering his brother’s ass in time.
“Come on, baby-boy, we aren’t exactly running late. I’ll be done with you in no time – feels like a fucking eternity since I gave you the atomic wedgie that you need.”
“You mean like yesterday?!”
Frustrated, Alphonse sighed and eye-begged across the own shoulder.
“Or the day before? Or the one before that? For fuck’s sake, Ed, at this point I’ll be more surprised if my underwear stays around my butt and dick instead of filling and crushing them! I envy the times when hanging out didn’t include pain and embarrassment!”
“Nice roar, little lion.”
“Ed! I’m ruining out of fucking underwear! If I must smell my own ass ever again…” “Nice idea,” Edward said, pulling his brother around so that they faced each other, “But I want to go for something else!”
He pushed Alphonse’s back against the fence! The gasp hadn’t died yet when he utilized both hands to give Alphonse a Melvin!
“UGH!”
A squeal lasso’d across Alphonse’s tongue, reaching for the sky. His toes curled, the baby-boy grimacing when the power of a train-collision smashed face-first into his private parts! Teeth clenched, fingers bent in pain, Alphonse tried to blink through his tears’ fog, that white existence whose ice-fingers touched both his feelings and thoughts. His face ate color, Alphonse whining as his balls and dick had to survive in a tight fabric-home they weren’t used to. Not that Edward was feeling generous anyway; eagerly yanking and pulling on the speedo.
“OOOOH,” Alphonse groaned and stuttered, forcing the own knees against each other as the speedo reached the middle-point of his chest.
His voice at the moon, Alphonse threw groaning and squeaking into a blender, begging while sadism’s delight caused his brother’s golden eyes to glow. The pressure kept coming, genitals smooched against the skin beneath the nerd’s flat stomach. Sweat was jewelry, Alphonse’s entire face glistening, shiny. His hands held the own junk – no matter how fast he blinked, tears of pain made everything in front of him a blurry chaos. Biting his lips any tighter, Alphonse would have feared his teeth getting stuck permanently. He panted and lowered the own head between his shoulders, bent forward, sinking his “crown” before the battle’s victor. The speedo got high enough that Alphonse could have secured the thing between his lips. A second longer and he’d sob – he almost did when Ed let go, having the black material snap against his brother’s body, catching the guy off guard and throwing him back-first onto the beach! All air jumped out of Alphonse’s lungs. He gasped and widened his golden eyes.
“Whew!”
One hand on a hip, Edward raised one and swiped sweat away. He closed both eyes, reveling in his brother’s murmured “Mummy” and the accompanying groans. Leg holes at the armpits, indeed, Edward bent down and did his magic on the speedo, wrapping Alphonse’s entire upper body in the fabric, all secured with a big, almost comedic knot. There Alphonse sat, face blushing, eyes filled with vulnerability, gaze lowered while he attempted to forget how fucked he was. Sand itched and stuck to his exposed ass cheeks. The cotton-Esque taste had reached his tongue, snaking arms and legs around it and securing itself with miniature, dagger-like teeth. Holy shit, the task of scratching the own nose was impossible, both arms inside the speedo, pressed against his chest in straightjacket-manner. At this point Alphonse wondered whether one or two testicals had been squashed like an overly ripe Peach. He lowered the own lids and hoped that Edward was done – for now, at least.
“Well, that was exactly what I needed.”
Edward sighed his satisfaction, a sun rising in his heart and brain, warming them, creating a mix of orange and yellow. This made his bones bright. Needless to say that his dick was a rock. Panting, Edward pulled his own shorts down, his white briefs with the red trims as good a pair of trunks as actual ones. This was the best part. Back home, in the village, this kind of underpants was a sure date for your ass with the school’s fences or flagpole. Like most guys socialized there this would pain Alphonse, awakening the instinct to strike, to put the exposed nerd in his place. IF Alphonse had been strong or free enough to accomplish that.
“So now you’re rubbing it in,” Alphonse whined, wincing when he tried to reposition himself.
“Always, little bro, always.”
Edward laughed, pulling his arms apart and building them into a cross between his chest and the world’s rest. Alphonse got up, standing slightly bent forward while he begged without words. But his brother wasn’t done, raising Alphonse with a hand and connecting fence and speedo!
“IIIH!”
Though it didn’t make for a hanging wedgie, only the nerd’s tiptoes connected to the sand. Edward sat down close by, observing his brother’s wiggling, his whimpering and squinting. Hand vanishing into his briefs, Edward smiled, tongue sticking out when he began to… please himself. He closed his eyes and moaned, his wiener twitching like a snake on coals. The tip of his best part was an ocean. A fireplace was in his stomach, cups of hot chocolate and grandma-crafted socks.
“MMOHG,” Edward moaned, leaned his head back.
His chest moved, was a race-car. Reaching behind himself, Edward dug his nails into the sand, pressing his butt there, too, sitting with spread legs and bent knees. Holy molly, was he drooling? A little bit? Power was his core, his lover and his pride. Alphonse put a hand on his eyes, lowering the own head and trying to forget this whole fiasco. Tears burned behind his lids. Was anything of his private parts left? Ned Stark’s sword was secured on the ground, it seemed, its tip reaching through Alphonse’s ass and ramming up to his chest. His speedo squeaked. The ground approached. The younger Elric brother grunted. But Edward’s voice became a sigh. He orgasmed into his underpants. Edward Elric moaned, trembled and fell onto his back, creating clouds of sand – to be carried away by the wind’s artist-fingers. Now his dick felt glued to the cotton. Edward’s shoulders went up and down. He panted, placed a hand on his chest and waited until his body had calmed down. He got onto his feet, approached, grabbed Alphonse’s Shirt with two fists and pulled him close, their noses almost making it to each other. The movement built a bridge, a thin strap of fabric going from between Alphonse’s cheeks to the fence.
“Look at me, bitch!”
Edward slightly narrowed his eyes, his voice a growl from the depths of his chest. His brother gulped and obeyed. Another boner approached Edward. Baby-boy looked so much younger now, so obedient, so fragile, personified begging. This caused Edward’s muscles to tense, he clenched his teeth in a predator’s grin, felt the urge to beat Alphonse up – even more. Winking, he held onto his bro’s clothing and bounced him a little up and down. This was pleasure, pure and simple. And it was everywhere, making him happy until a voice broke through.
“Oho, the fuck’s going on right now – if you allow me this much?”
Edward turned around.
“Ling,” he murmured, “Ling Yao!”
To be honest, he would have expected their old friend to, well, not exactly come in his royal robes, face-paint and the masses of rings and rubies… but this? The same old yellow jacket with a pattern of white flames, the faintly gray pants and bandage knotted into a belt. Sharp strands of black hair hung into Ling’s forehead, a ponytail behind his back and the tip of a toothpick renting the space between his lips. This was (almost) a nostalgia-overload! Edward was tempted to tear up, realizing, once more, what a miracle this situation was. They’d faced Truth, God himself, had beaten Father and his minions, made peace with their deadbeat father – all while fighting through a governmentwide conspiracy of mass murder. Ling had made it to Amestris, crossing the desert in the hopes of winning the philosopher’s stone and saving his future. Some of them surviving would have been a little wonder – but all of them? How could you not feel grateful for that? Edward went to his friend, concerned that Lan Fan was nowhere to be seen. Was she keeping out of sight just in case?
Was her sense of duty stronger than the wish to see them again as well? Or was Ling risking it? Had his power grown or…? They shook hands. And Ling grinned – but he frowned soon enough, stepping to the side and staring past Edward. Spitting it out, the toothpick dug into the sand! Fists touching the own hips, he stared back and forth between the Elric Siblings.
“Edward… Al… pardon my language, but… what the fuck is going on?”
Alphonse sighed and tried to implode or turn invisible – whatever he’d manage earlier. Edward grinned and shrugged. The wind pushed his blond ponytail around. “Oh. That. We’re just having some fun, quality time between a couple siblings. Took us long enough, you know?”
“Mgh.”
The Canyon on Ling’s forehead deepened, ripping through his flesh, moving mountains. A strange kind of expression was in the Emperor’s eyes, raising a finger in Edward’s direction, stepping to the other one. Crossing his arms, he studied the embarrassed guy. Like a first class mother… he grabbed Alphonse’s wrists… pulled the arms down so that they could look into each other’s eyes. Ling chose his words, as if one wrong letter would doom the world itself.
“Al… Can’t believe I’m even asking this, but… are you enjoying this? Am I the witness of a… a game of sorts?”
“Uh…”
A gulp left Alphonse’s throat. His gaze went to Edward for a little while, snapping back and landing on the beach. His ears were red. And Ling cleared his throat.
“Al?”
“Ugh,” Alphonse whimpered when a gush of wind swung him a little to the side.
He blinked as if they’d have no other morning, hoping to avoid tears…
Hands finding the own hips, Ling finally sighed and shook his head. Then he reached around the beaten nerd, disconnecting him from the fence and putting the poor, poor guy back down. Alphonse groaned, sure, but a sigh of relief made it into the mix as well. Ling Yao worked his magic, arms and hands moving too fast for the naked eye. The wedgie undone, Alphonse’s speedo hung on his body like the Frankenstein version of a skirt. His balls and dick must have been tortured with sandpaper, how else could he have felt like this? He held his privats, grimacing and squinting. How should he ever get around this? Move on?
“Al…”
Ling hesitated.
“Who did this to you? Who, exactly?”
Alphonse’s vocals were up in the sky, he felt it through and through. He wasn’t eager to waste away what little dignity remained. Instead he kept his head lowered and meekly gestured towards his older brother. The Emperor’s gaze followed along.
“I… see.”
“Uh…”
Now it was Edward’s turn to frown. He gulped a little, scratching one of his cheeks. Worry went around him, smoke poured into world’s largest glass of water. His stomach, indeed, got tighter. The power was shifting – a bit, though the future didn’t promise much improvement.
“Guys?”
Emperor Ling snorted. Blew his nostrils.
“Is this your idea of brotherly treatment?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Have you ever heard of an older sibling’s duty to lead, to protect the little ones? Anal raping your sibling doesn’t seem to fit the bill.”
A hint of panic somersaulted into Edward’s snickering.
“Come the fuck on! Now you’re overdoing it, man.”
“Oh. Really.”
Ling’s hands became fists.
“So this IS your idea of fun?”
“Well… I mean… yeah?”
The last word wasn’t even much of a gasp. Edward wrung his hands, panic keeping an idiot’s grin on his face. With each step forward on Ling’s part, he would retreat. A bit of sweat had smelled the fire’s ashes, rolling away and escaping across the skin between Elric’s shoulder blades. Ling grabbed Ed’s shirt and pulled the guy onto his tiptoes! So fast that Ed widened his eyes and gasped – and with so much power that he’d have almost thrown Edward head-first across his shoulder. Being one of many, many children of the former Emperor, Ling had made it through years of combat-,history-, medicine and conspiracy training, avoiding violence, poison and lies. In no way was he a stranger to questionable family-politics. Even more so had he been touched by the Elrics’ bond, their trust in alchemy, both of their resolve to survive their trauma and heal. Two sides of the same coin, that was how they’d always appeared to Xing’s leader. And now this? Was the actual fuck was going on? What had happened? Anger was a bear at Ling’s core, raising its head and screaming, disbelief a giant Squid, its long and cold arms reaching around hope and bubbling it down into the watery grave. He studied Al, made sure to know that Ed’s work on his brother was undone and brought the own Face closer to Edward’s. Their lips could have touched… Edward wondered how the hell ANY of his thoughts could have picked that direction – he chose to forget it, too. He’d be distracted soon anyway. Ling pulled Ed into a headlock, causing a grunt of surprise while he walked the older Elric over to his younger version. Bending a finger, he knocked against Ed’s forehead while raising an eyebrow towards the one who’d rule it all.
“Al? I’d ask your brother to beg for your forgiveness – but I think that train’s long gone. Never claimed to be a saint, revenge’s got a certain… charm, I’d say. How about it?”
He forced Edward around, sticking the fit guy’s butt in Alphonse’s direction. Those butt cheeks behind a thin layer of white cotton, the crack (a little bit) visible above said waistband.
“Would you like to have some fun among friends?”, Ling asked.
And Alphonse gulped, a hand on his mouth, eyes encompassing galaxies. Could this be real? Would he awake one second later in a new atomic wedgie? His skin was concrete under the summer sun. His ears twitching, Alphonse struggled to comprehend the current situation. And he looked at Ed, snails going around his brain, the slime obstructing, slowing down his thoughts – until bits of white light pierced through, one after the other. Until Alphonse felt free again. Edward paled under the very smile growing on his little brother’s lips. Perhaps he’d regret this under Edward’s revenge, maybe he’d strike that out with the power of his own action, who knew? All Alphonse felt secure about were his current wishes. Power and sadism caused his teeth and eyes to glow.
“If you don’t mind?”
His own emotions were reflected on Ling’s face.
“Sure thing!”
Alphonse came closer, grabbed his big brother’s underpants, putting a thumb each under the waistband for additional support. Edward’s eyes widened. Why was his fucking mouth so dry? His knees shook, doctor heart approaching a nuclear mushroom. The headlock changed.
“Al?”, Ed said, stretching the word, every letter filled with fear and the utterly failed attempt of a warning.
“Nah, we can talk later!”
Al gave Edward a wedgie! The middle fabric string swung itself onto a new level, reaching for the stars, exploding into Edward Elric’s ass! Edward’s lips gulped wrinkles, resembling a granny’s, dick and balls granted far (far!) too less space to breath and fucking exist. And the waistband cut into his skin. Alphonse wasn’t generous, either, yanking and pulling as if he’d been born for nothing else. Ed’s underpants were a combination of popping fabric-threads. It didn’t take long for the leg holes to gain Elephant-size.
"Oww-Shit!"
Edward screamed the crap out of his lungs, both hands flying back to grab the white strip of fabric cutting his ass in half. His legs were desperately kicking, trying to reach the ground again. Alphonse had pulled his brother’s rear higher up, into the air – then lowered him, keeping his left hand on the briefs while his right forearm pinned Ed’s upper body where it was. Never, ever, had Edward gasped and groaned like he was while his briefs were getting hiked up his ass, not even during the village-school’s wrestling at recess, when he was being beaten black and blue on a regular basis (not that he’d ever admit to that now). Once more Alphonse couldn’t escape his morbid curiosity. This fascinated him, was a lover’s arms around his heart. Some underwear and that was all it took to break into his brother’s armor and smash it all to pieces? Leaning his head back, Alphonse opened his mouth for a grin, was (almost) surprised that no Lions-roar jumped from him, no vampire-teeth growing. He yanked again with a single hand, wondering out loud if those same noises would come out of Eddie’s mouth again - and they did, much to the elder’s embarrassment.
NO!
Edward felt power, logic and emotion combining into a beast that jumped and shouted all the way through. It came over Edward - instincts kicked in, exploding. And his elbow hit Alphonse in the face – this, right now, sent Alphonse stumbling backwards, though he quickly managed to pin Ed against a wall close by. With one hand, Alphonse grabbed Ed’s hair and slammed his face against this wall!
“UGH!”
“Whoa,” Ling whistled.
Well, now Alphonse was glaring. Even Edward gulped and looked down.
"Pull some shit like that again and I’ll throw a knockout through your fucking teeth!" He slammed Ed’s face against the wall two more times – could any message be too clear? The impact’s echo sneaked into the realm of grunts and groans. Even some birds got scared and pissed off. Hands holding his hips, Ling walked where shit was hitting the fan. Edward’s face was bright red, sweat trickling down his face. He tried desperately to shake his LITTLE brother off, but from his position there was nothing he could do under Alphonse’s strong pin. Perhaps his brother had lost his damn mind – he’d won the moment either way. Even responding felt beneath him, like giving in and allowing Alphonse to dictate their relationship. Sure, he could shout and tell him to fuck off, but he’d always been proud of his calm, cool manners, the one to define the rule of cool (so long as his height wasn’t a factor). Simply put: Edward Elric wasn’t the shouting type, something that would (if anything) only serve to make his bullies laugh at the victim’s impotence. He’d take it, like how he’d done it with every other beating of his life. There was a crucial difference, however, something that drove a goddamn razorblade through his lungs and livers: this time Ed had to forcefully suppress the pathetic groans and squeals that wedgies (!) were forcing out of him. Al was in his element, that very bully bounced the loser again and again! Verging close to tears from laughter! Seldom, almost never, had Edward been in this position of the bully-nerd-combo. Now he had to wonder what it was about wedgies that hurt him so much.
Because hurting was what they did, like hell’s volcano spitting out orange-yellow breath, heat and knuckle-sandwiches. Suffering – and in ways Ed had never experienced before. More than once, bullies had pulled his shorts down, had pushed him in locker a couple times, kicked him in the nuts during recess - a pain that, while not totally tamed, at least didn’t leave him whimpering and crying like a wet dog. But this was different, totally, concerning the space between his ass and balls, the skin just below his buttcrack, which was being sawed in half. Big fucking surprise: He really, really hated this new kind of experience. Hadn’t he been too busy with his own shit, Ed would have wondered if others were witnessing the destruction of both his dignity and reputation. Was any hope left? Lucky him, then, because after getting one final, strong yank, Al let go of those briefs. UNlucky him, though, because Alphonse’s right arm swiftly slithered around Ed’s shoulder, his whole body painfully bending back, hardly able to stand as the bully used a single arm to keep his head trapped, facing the sky. The sun might have been hot, but it was also far, far away. Too far away. Even with all his struggling, Ed wasn’t perfect and didn’t even notice Alphonse’s left hand taking hold of the front of the white briefs, even when they were so tightly compressed against his dick - thanks to the previous wedgie - that he practically groped it. Ed only noticed once that hand flew upwards, delivering the mother of all melvins, the waistband halfway to outer space. This pain had caught him by surprise; a wave smashing against rocks. Edward, the destruction of the dwarf in the flask, would have (accidentally) let out a shrill scream if the arm around his neck hadn't been half-choking him. At least he wasn’t TOTALLY muffled. What had happened to his little brother who’d weep for all the cats in the world whenever rain came down? Some things should have been obvious, like where a sibling’s hand should never go.
“What the- was that you?!”, Al asked, almost a laugh, before yanking the briefs up again.
This time though, Ed did manage to shut his mouth and prevent the scream, even when the sharp pain made him go back to the helpless child he’d been during wrestling so, so often. But he couldn’t use his hands to stop the wedgie, they were trying to get his head out of the bully’s hold. Well, it was embarrassing, but what could he do? The poor guy kept throwing blind punches, hoping to wear Al down, if nothing else. What self-defense training instincts Edward carried exploded and went out the window in the blinding, roaring pain. Ed was left struggling senselessly as Al had a field day pulling on the underwear. Ed swore he’d never cry due to something as lackluster as pain, much less from a fucking wedgie! But his eyes were blurry - he tapped three times on the bully’s arm, a sign that he was giving up. The older Elric didn’t even want to think about this. One thing was clear: Alphonse had won the fight, and it was all because of those god damned wedgies. A fucking children’s prank! But it was up to Al to decide whether they’d stop, he could continue indefinitely if he wanted to, there wasn’t much Ed could do to stop him – not with Ling still around. Pride warmed the younger Elric’s chest from within – tickling, almost. With a massive grin on his face, Al pardoned the front of the underwear, although he kept the grip around his brother’s head, and walked backwards, until they made it back into the hotel – it’s bathroom and into a stall.
So the bullies forced Edward to also scuttle his feet backwards in this incredibly uncomfortable position. Once inside, Alphonse threw Ed over the white toilet. Ed’s knees smashed onto the white tiles, his head right above the blue and glistening water. Memories were clouds of black and stinking smog, going up inside the nerded’s head, reminding Edward of what he’d tried to forget. He remembered the rumors of bullies giving swirlies at his old school, so he took a deep breath. But the dunk never came; instead Alphonse grabbed the back of Edward’s tighty whities and yanked them up. And with that Edward was lifted up, his waistband stretched up to his shoulders as saws cut his crotch, grinning and ripping what they could – now, though, he was slowly letting out his breath, forcefully but controlled, to prevent another pain-induced moan going out. His legholes were dropped on a twin pair of hooks on the stall’s green door, the small drop causing his breath to hitch. He looked down. His feet were about a foot away from the ground. That was… disappointing, to say the least. But admitting or showing that would have felt like another defeat. Okay. Ed had been kind enough. Ed narrowed his eyes and glared in Al’s direction.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t-”
But he was cut short by his brother grabbing his leg, threatening to pull down.
“You know,” Ling murmured, “I think this is good, too good for just the two of us.”
Not long after, voices came closer to the bathroom. They spoke in a language Ed didn’t understand – though pieces of familiar words started to come along, too. The first man to enter was Alphonse, the winner, quickly followed by some Xingese guys with blick hair and olive-tanned skin.
"Here he is, bitcho the clown," Al proclaimed with glowing eyes, and the others laughed, commenting on Edward’s choice of underwear and the like. After some more threatening from Al and a lot of self-restraint from Ed, one of the other guys, the one with the messy, almost explosive haircut, had Edward pinned against that same wall and given another brutal wedgie. The pain reignited and combined with the new wedgie to make Edward whimper and scream. At the very least he managed to reform all this into a low-pitched, a 'manly' grunt of pain. The one giving him the wedgie was laughing so hard he had to let go of the underwear. The damn thing snapped against Ed’s skin, sounding like a whip. The other two unknowns then stepped up together, bumping fists before reaching for the white briefs. One carried a blue heart painted onto a cheek, the other’s mouth had been perfected via red lipstick. They winked and each grabbed one side of the underwear, hearty from the left and lipstick from the right. And then they yanked, hearty pulled first, the other one yanked higher, but seconds later they found a rhythm, yanking up and down simultaneously. They were one, bouncing Ed up into the air and then catching him using his own briefs. The first few times he gasped and groaned, and all the bullies screamed of laugher and pulled harder. All Ed dared was blowing air out of his nose whenever the pain of the wedgie sharpened.
Good for him, not so much for the bullies and their fans. The two threw themselves head first into this joy, Ed would pull down the underwear with both hands to lessen the pain. His jaw was shut tight, dead set on not letting another sound through. It still hurt like all hell, every time he fell back into it was another wave of pain, his briefs stabbing his crotch with more and more force. But it wasn’t enough to break him. Once that became apparent, Al stepped forward. He raised a hand and snapped with two fingers. The other two let go of their victim. Ed, barely able to stand on his own, had his eyes set on the floor, then on his so called sibling, then to the two goons that had just wedgied him. Al seemed torn, biting his lip and frowning… Not a second later, his right fist rammed into Edward’s stomach! Two trains crashing into each other! Sure, Edward’s abs reflexively hardened – but that wasn’t nearly enough to stop the punch. He fell to his knees, clutching the own stomach, giving that monster formerly known as Alphonse a perfect opportunity. Then Ed’s head was pulled ahead and surrounded by a pair of thighs, his waistband was gripped by two hands. And Alphonse wasted no time pulling the waistband to himself, lifting the lower half of his brother’s body off the ground via another extremely painful wedgie. Three other bullies laughed as they saw the red face of his victim, trapped in between their leader’s (?) thighs, making all kinds of faces to keep himself from screaming, digging his fingers into the oppressor’s calves as he felt the pain shooting up his ass. What a fucking disgrace! The laughter grew like children, exponentially. With his underwear wedged so deep between his asscheeks, Elric was practically mooning those who put him down. Another roar of laughter came about as the first spank to the bare ass got delivered, echoing throughout the room and, crucially, making Edward yelp from stinging pain. And after that, the dam collapsed and splashed into its water. Every spank to his butt, yank to his briefs, taunt from his bullies, was the father of another noise. Ling remained close by, grinning across his arms.
“Oohh. Ah! Fuck. Ouch, Shit! Oww. Ughh. Ahhh,” and a million other sounds, all of them driving the bullies insane with laughter…
After Al had his fill of undie-tugging, the younger dropped the elder onto the floor. On his command, the bullies grabbed the front and back of the stretched out tighty whities and lifted the nerd up painfully to his feet. It was then that Al began to guide his lackeys through a new type of wedgie Ling had told him about: The Squeaky Clean. The front was yanked up to Ed’s nipples, then given some slack as the back almost reached the blond head.
“Front. Back. Front. Back. Come on, keep him up in the air! Yeah, like that! Front. Back…” and on and on he went. Each word meant fabric sliding from one side to the other, flossing Edward Elric’s crotch in half as the wedgie-seesaw started fires in his ass, each movement forcing another moan or groan...
Eyes closed, Ed’s hands cupping his dick, unable to protect it from the wedgie. Until Alphonse’s voice broke through:
“Stop!”
All movement ceased. Edward was left hanging in a frontal wedgie from the arms of a jackass with red shirt, his underwear-covered knuckles almost up to Edward’s nose. Alphonse grabbed the back of the tighty whities and pulled his bro up, giving one more flossing in the process. The atomic wedgie happened so casually that even Edward almost missed it, Al carrying him over to that same stall as before. With the same conceited grin, he hooked the underwear right where it belonged, same as last time, earning one last, long, drawn out groan from the victim.
“Do I even need to say it?”
He left the stall, and the whole group then followed suit, going out of the bathroom altogether. Ed had a bad suspicion so far as his future was concerned – especially when those dicks began to speak of a surprise, guiding other guests into the bathroom.
