Chapter Text
Batteries NOT Included: RECHARGED! Ch 1: Remote Control Romance
By The Binary Alchemist
“What the fuck??”
The tiny steam engine hooted cheerfully as it circled the ceiling on the makeshift track Alphonse had cobbled together. “Brother, isn’t it wonderful??” Amber eyes danced with delight as he bounded around the room like a hyperactive Terrier.
“Choo choo—whoop-de-fuckin’ doo.” Ed slammed the door behind him and threw his keys on the table. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing with shit like that, Al?”
Alphonse ducked his head and grinned, scarcely able to contain himself. “It’s my latest invention—and it’s going to revolutionize toys all over the world!”
“I’m underwhelmed, Al.” He sniffed suspiciously. “Where’s dinner? That pot roast should be done by now, right? Or,” his golden eyes narrowed, “you didn’t let those damned kittens eat it, did you?”
“The kittens? Oh—I took them down to Dr Lin and Dr. Muckenfoose for their shots—oh, and Dr. Lin had the cutest male ferret she was keeping for a friend—“
“A dirty weasel—and a ferret. Love at first sight, I’ll bet. I’ll send ‘em a toaster as a wedding present.”
Alphonse was shocked. “Brother! That’s rude! What did the vet ever do to you?”
“Forget it.” Got me over a fuckin’ barrel—and Mustang too. All she has to do is open her big yap about me and Roy and the sex toy bullshit…and he’s gonna get court-martialed. It had been six months since Roy’s dog-sitting fiasco that ended up outing the pair of them to the Central base vet, Dr. DeLinden Elkhart…in spite of being born in Amestris and sporting red hair and glasses, Ed was convinced that the otherwise likeable animal doctor was secretly as conniving and perverse as her Nazi Earth doppelganger.
A quick investigation proved Ed’s suspicions. “Take out again. Al, if you’re not gonna bother cooking,” he sighed, “there’s no point to me bringing home a decent piece of meat.” And speaking of a decent piece of meat…”Has Mustang called?” he asked abruptly.
Al glanced up from his tinkering.”Huh? Oh. No. Why? Do they need you on post?”
No, dipshit. I need to be ON a post—Roy’s, to be exact. When the hell is he coming back from Aerugo? “Ah…no. We just were…working on a project together. Pretty intense stuff. I can’t get further…into…it if he’s not around.”
Little Brother was being The Fully Oblivious Alchemist again tonight. Alphonse had raised the bar of Elric Obsessiveness notches above his brother since returning to the flesh. He was easily distracted right up to the point that his brain locked onto a target—like building a new gadget or rescuing a kitten out of a tree or—on one memorable week, the way swallowing fizzy sodas could give him enough gas to belch the alphabet—and he became worse than useless to the rest of humanity. He’d remember to feed the current herd of kittens and take the occasional dump, but other than that he was useless for any purpose other than the one that arrested his attention.
Beans on toast. He’d make do with that, chased down with some warmed over coffee that he’d made at breakfast. Ed cursed his brother mentally, but was comforted by the fact that his supper would undoubtedly play hell with his digestion—a bit dicey since getting his guts half ripped out in Briggs thanks to Kimblee. “I really wanted that pot roast—my mouth was all geared up for pot roast and carrots and potatoes,” he announced to the wall paper, since his brother was fretting over a pile of wires and toggle switches and was deaf and blind to anything else around him. “Tell you what, Al—soon as my supper starts to gurgle in my guts I’m heading upstairs. I’m gonna crawl right into your bed…and I’m gonna fart under the covers. Sound like a plan to you?”
“Uh huh…fine, Brother. We’ll do the pot roast tomorrow.”
“Hello? Central control to Station Alphonse—are you reading me?” Ed mumbled under his breath with as much sarcasm as he could muster while shoveling down his supper. Damn. There he goes again. What the fuck. Suppose it won’t kill me to ask… “So…what’cha workin’ on now, Al?”
Bright eyes flashed above the track he was soldering with alchemy. “Remote control motors, powered by alchemy! That’s how the little train keeps running around the track. There’s a miniature motor inside, see—it’s powered by one of my alchemically augmented batteries---and I’ve got a little oval array mounted on it with a toggle blade, kind of like May Chang uses. I’ve got this small oval array board in my pocket here—and it’s got a toggle blade too. Works like an on/off directional switch.”
In spite of himself, Ed was interested. “Lemme get this straight—so if you have the little array board controller in your pocket and one of those little motors and battery dinguses attached or inside a device, you can remotely control its actions?” That was actually clever. Pretty damned clever. “What’s the range?”
Al beamed. “Want to help me test it out tonight?”
Elycia Hughes crowed with delight as the tiny locomotive choo-choo’ed up the walkway pulling a string of small cars filled with sweets and a tiny teddy bear bearing a sign “with love from Uncle Alphonse”.
Four blocks away, Ed put down his field glasses and slapped his brother on the back. “Hey, that’s really great, Al! There’s got to be a lot of applications for long-range remote control in manufacturing and industry. You’ll be richer than a State Alchemist!”
“As long as it’s used for peace,” Al cautioned. “I don’t want this to be for weapons.”
“Right, Al. So—what ‘cha gonna call it?”
His brother beamed. “In my blueprints I was calling it the Alchemic Toy Dry Cell Battery Ovoid—let’s call it the AlToyd, okay?”
A broad metal palm slapped Al’s shoulder so hard it made him wince. “Sure. And I bet one day AlToyds are gonna be a household name—just wait and see!”
They were footing it back home when Al’s head jerked abruptly. “Wha—did you hear that sound?”
Ed gritted his teeth, jammed his fists into his coat pocket and picked up the pace. “Nope. Neither did you. Let’s get home. My guts are starting to rumble.” If he was going to break wind, he wasn’t so crude as to do it in the alley where it would echo. He fully intended to let rip in Al’s bedroom as he’d threatened.
“Brother!” Al darted between the buildings in search of some mangy stray that would undoubtedly be mewling and crapping in corners before the night was over. If I find one goddamn flea in my bed, I’m gonna put kitty litter in his Grape-Nuts at breakfast tomorrow. “C’mon, Al! It’s getting cold. Let’s just---Al? Where’d you go?”
Ed’s younger brother had found his quarry—a filthy handful of ginger-colored spite that was doing it’s level best to rip off the hand stretched out to help it. Al yelped in pain as it slashed out and left a matched set of bloody lacerations across the back of his hand. “Brother! Help me catch him!”
“Two words, Al: ‘Fuck’. ‘No’. “
“Use your automail! We can catch him and take him to Dr. Lin.”
“I’d rather stick my dick in a—“ He was about to say pencil sharpener but stopped himself in time. “Forget it. I’m not going over there. You want the damn thing? Here.” A heavy brown coat was flung over the growling little monster. “And dry-clean it before you give it back to me? I don’t wanna smell like cat piss.”
Al hurried off to the Vet Clinic, leaving his brother shivering in the doorway where Al had rescued to stray. As Ed’s eyes rolled up with disgust, he noticed something vaguely familiar about the storefront.
Ah. Yes. Spenser’s.
Originally a novelty shop, they had had such success with certain, um, adult party items that they had sold off their remaining inventory and reopened as Spenser’s Emporium—For All Your Adult Entertainment Needs. Open 9 to Midnight Fridays, Weekends and By Appointment. Under the marquee in tiny gilded letters: “18 And Over, Please!”
It was a Friday night.
He’d turned twenty two weeks ago.
What the hell….
The door jingled cheerfully and a small grey-haired man looked up from his tea with a welcoming smile. “Good evening, sir! Welcome to Spenser’s! Would you kindly bring your proof of age to the counter? Sorry—but Pudenda’s asleep in my lap and I’d hate to have to wake the poor kitty.”
Ed shrugged and flipped out his State Millitary ID card. “Thank you, Mr. Elric! Goodness, isn’t it a dreadful night? So bad for custom. One might gather that on a chilly night a good rousing shag might warm one up---or even a nice wank-off to make one’s cheeks rosy. It is a well known fact that orgasms are highly therapeutic! Now, “ he gestured to a plate of ginger cookies, “please help yourself and let me know if I can help you. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
This kind of frankness made him uncomfortable. His few encounters with sex shops in Central had been limited to grimy floors, dim lights, foul-smelling old men in raincoats and back rooms that smelt of cigarettes and…protein. He’d gotten wanked off by anonymous hands in the men’s room just sticking his dick through a hole in the stall door, and one unforgettable occasion there’s been a mouth—maybe it was a mouth. It was moist and tight and he didn’t ask too many questions—just blown his load, zipped up and gotten the hell out of there before anybody figured out that in spite of the pocket watch he was still only sixteen. And before he had to go back to the hotel and fend off more of Winry’s unwanted advances—telling her over and over stop it—stopit SHIT will you please—you don’t own my body! You’re like a sister to me! Would you please get your hands off me—I don’t want--oh, stop CRYING, will ya??
That had been before Munich. Before Alfons Heiderich. Before he learned that sex could matter.
But Alfons was gone and Earth’s Gate was closed behind him for good. Ed was so good at compartmentalizing his emotions. His mind was like a well-ordered To Do list: Monday—pick up leather pants from the cleaner. Wednesday—Dinner at the Hugheses. Friday—cards with Al, cheeseburgers for dinner. Saturday—self abuse. Sunday—change sheets.
Sex with Roy Mustang had completely thrown his life out of kilter.
He kind of liked it.
He liked the variety, the risk. It was fun. Sex with Alfons had been so serious and all that emotion made Ed really uneasy. Love someone and they die on you. Always happens. No point getting all worked up again over that asshole with the eyepatch. Still…
Remember all those wild nights before he went off for a stint as envoy to Aerugo? The nights we’d raid the fridge for all sorts of stuff to lick off each other. The time he tied me up with his aguillette cords and…mmmm…damn, still makes me shiver. And the toys. Goddamn. THAT was fun. Remember that thing we had—the Flesh-Flex Super Realistic Vibrating Dong I got stuck up my ass that time? The one that got loose and Hawkeye put a slug in it to turn off the motor since Al’s alchemical batteries kept it going and going and…
His reverie was interrupted by a polite clearing of Mr. Spenser’s throat. “So, young man—what tickles your fancy? Do your interests run to…mmm…seafood—“ he pointed to a tasteful display of pink plastic pussies and thick-breasted blow up dolls, “--or steak?” A nod towards an even larger display of lifelike phalluses, plump rubber buttocks—with vibrating action!—and strokers that could be filled with warm water. “This is a very, very popular item that was delivered this afternoon. Don’t expect them to stay in very long.” He offered a large, flat box to Ed emblazoned with words SUPER FLEX-FLESH CELEBRITY SERIES “COLT COMMANDO” REALISTIC LOVE DOLL WITH VIBRATING ACTION DONG, STUDDED MOUTH AND ROUGH RIDERÓ PATENTED BACK DOOR FOR WILD PARTY ACTION. BONUS LUBE SAMPLE INCLUDED!
“Go on, take a look, lad—the face is rather handsome, don’t you think? It seems awfully familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen it before…”
Ed tugged off the box lid, peered inside and whistled softly in recognition. “Well, I’ll be cornholed by Cornello,” he chuckled, as he dug for his wallet. After all, it would be a nice gesture to present Mustang with a Care package from home—something to help him while away the lonely hours in his hotel room.
Especially one so…oddly appropriate.
“A man of discrimination and taste,” Mr. Spenser beamed as he taped down the folds of plain brown paper around Ed’s purchase before slipping it into a shopping bag. “Now, is there anything else you need this evening? We have a special sale on flavored Oil of Love—buy one, get a free jar of Warming Chocolate Body Whip, if you’re interested.”
Ed nodded, distracted by the display of vibrators. “Yeah, whatever. Gimme one.”
“What flavor, sir?”
“Ummm…strawberry.” No. Waitaminute. Roy preferred coffee. “Make that cappachino-mocha.” He took a small gold-foil box down from the display shelf. It read
The Commando Elite. He read it carefully before holding it out to the shopkeeper. “You got one of these I can look at?”
“Oh, that’s an excellent choice!” Spenser gushed enthusiastically. “It has a rechargeable power cell inside and a power adapter you just plug in the wall—oh, and it includes a suction cup base and a universal harness for all sorts of intriguing possibilities. And this is a clever feature—a Flex-Flesh Foreskin. The veins are all hand-painted and if you squeeze the scrotum you’ll feel the balls move. Clever, yes? “
…Remote control motors, powered by alchemy…There’s a miniature motor inside, powered by one of my alchemically augmented batteries---and a little oval array mounted on it with a toggle blade… small oval array board in my pocket … a toggle blade …Works like an on/off directional switch…
A slow, somewhat maniacal grin spread across Edward’s face.
“Wrap it up.”
…TO BE CONTINUED….