"Clear and Precise Orders" Eureka Seven & Fullmetal Alchemist, Dewey Novak & Zolf Kimberly
Title: Clear and Precise Orders Author: badpenny Fandom: Eureka Seven & Fullmetal Alchemist Pairings/Characters: Zolf Kimberly & Dewey Novak Rating: PG Warnings: None Prompt: 3/7, weapon kink Notes: I feel like I'm cheating since, um, when it comes to my buttons, Dewey Novak pushes the same ones as Frank Archer. So, um, there's nothing really new here. Just me rolling around in power dynamics. Because I can't resist.
His promotion to colonel gave Novak easy access to Second Prison, to the solitary cells on the bottom floor, and, most importantly, the authority to demand privacy in the interest of national security. The guards groused -- they always did -- but they complied, escorting him to Major Kimberly's cell with as much professionalism as they could muster.
Kimberly looked too gaunt and thin in prison grays. Novak blinked back his surprise. This wasn't his Kimberly. His Kimberly -- his alchemist -- was lean and graceful, sure of his purpose as one of the military's greatest weapons.
"Lieutenant-colonel," Kimberly drawled, not bothering to rise from his bunk. His eyes flickered to the bars on Novak's shoulders, and he straightened up. "Excuse me. Colonel. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I came to see if there was anything you needed." Novak looked around the cell. Second Prison was an old building, made from stone, so it was cool and damp, and the air circulation was poor. Kimberly's cell smelled faintly stagnant water. It was rather insulting that he was being kept in such poor conditions. Then again, it was rather insulting he was being branded a war criminal.
Kimberly smiled faintly and through him. "Why thank you. I appreciate the concern, sir."
Novak crossed the cell in three quick steps and backhanded Kimberly. "Let's try this again, major."
Kimberly' glared up at him, flexing his hands, his wrists scraping against the stocks. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I've been discharged, colonel."
Novak smiled. There was his alchemist. "Your court martial is in two weeks. Officially, you are still a State Alchemist, still a major, and still under my command. Now," he leaned forward, pressing his knee between Kimberly's thighs, "since you are unaware of the date of your court martial, I assume you have not been granted access to your advocate. I will remedy that."
Kimberly raised his hands. He didn't touch Novak, but the challenge was clear in his eyes. "Will you, sir?"
Novak leaned into Kimberly's hands. "Yes." He fisted his hand in Kimberly's hair, jerked Kimberly's head back. "I expect you to cooperate with him."
Kimberly curled his fingers. Novak felt them, strong and firm and pressing hard enough to bruise. Kimberly pressed closer. His expression was almost a sneer, but this close, Novak could see the desperation in his eyes. "Is that an order, sir?"
"Yes."
Kimberly forced out a bitter laugh. "Care to make it more specific? You know how loosely I can interpret orders to suit my purposes."
"You're a State Alchemist, major. A weapon. Your job is to execute orders, not to interpret them."
Kimberly went still. "Kill them all," he husked.
"You executed your orders in Ishval beautifully." Quite beautifully. The memory still made Novak shudder in awe. So much raw power, and it was his.
Kimberly closed his eyes and breathed in deep. His smile was serene. "Yes."
"Cooperate with your advocate. Do not use any alchemy until you have been cleared of all charges -- and you will be; I will see to it -- and returned to active duty. Do you understand your orders, major?"