Author's Note: Welcome to Clever Alibis, as seen on tumblr. Check me out at tiny-changeling. This fic takes place after FMAB, and it's pretty spoiler heavy. The primary focus is Greed/Ling, but Ling is polyamorous and pansexual. So expect Ling/LanFan, and Ling/Ed in the future, with plenty of Greed along the way. He doesn't like to be left out, after all. This story is rated 18+ for smut, smut and more smut. Seriously I'm hoping for smut in every chapter. Also just a little warning, it may look like non-con if you squint, but I promise Ling is into it and I'll try to make that very clear. Hope you enjoy! I haven't written fic in a long time, and this is my first FMA fic! -Jamie

Clever Alibis

Chapter 1

"Rise and shine, Piss-Ant."

Ling Yao stirs from a restless sleep as something sharp tickles his cheek. His eyes blink awake, taking in his surroundings. He recognizes this place as the center of himself - his mind, spirit, heart… whatever you call it. The shapeless, red and black walls pulse with the souls of the Philosopher's Stone, squirming in their unrest, much like the young prince himself. How is this possible? How is he back here, after what happened? Has sleep finally taken him? Is he dead?

Tendrils of black and red matter coil around his body, squeezing his arms and thighs, applying gentle pressure around his throat. Ling swallows once, and the snakelike appendage presses back against his adam's apple. He groans. Unable or perhaps unwilling to fight, Ling allows the tendrils to lift him into the air, guiding his body closer to a familiar face in the myriad of souls. Two white slits the size of his own head look down on him with no small amount of scrutiny. Stalagmite teeth spread into something close to a smirk.

"Greed," Ling says, his voice hoarse from being choked. "I thought you were dead."

"My avarice tends to decide these things for me." Warm air descends from that sharp mouth as Greed speaks, thickly blanketing Ling's body with the smell of copper coins and ink. Every cloying gulp of air fills his head with noxious puffs of invisible smoke. This smell, this familiar draft… it chips away at his already eroded willpower.

"I saw you disappear," Ling insists. His fingers curl into fists, dipping his nails into the sweat pooling in his palms.

"Good acting, huh? Hahaha, oh god, you should've seen your face! All twisted up and sad..."

Ordinarily Ling has a natural armor around his heart, keeping him safe from mockery. This time, somehow, Greed's words cut right through. Maybe it's because Ling hasn't heard him speak in far too long. Or maybe the memory of his other half literally reduced to dust is too fresh and fragile to withstand any sort of beating. Either way, it hurts. He shuts his eyes to escape it.

Greed's grip on his body tightens in response, refusing to let his attention wander. The tendrils hug his thighs and crush his windpipe so his mouth drops open. Two tiny coils map the lines of Ling's face like fingers, stopping to focus their edges on his bottom lip.

"Aww, don't tell me you missed me. Sentiment is so unbecoming of an Emperor."

Of course I miss you, you terrible monster, Ling struggles not to say. That's not even a question... His temples tingle, thirsty for oxygen. His pulse beats hard against Greed's grasp, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Something slithers across Ling's stomach. The thing tucks under his shirt and pulls up the fabric, exposing him all the way past his ribs. With Greed keeping his head in place, all he can see is the faint glow of the Philosopher's Stone emitting from his own chest. Its light flutters like a candle, in tandem with the frantic pace of his heart.

Greed's blank eyes admire him from above, a predator about to devour its next meal. His mouth splits apart with delight. A long, purple tongue unfurls over his teeth.

He presses the immense, wet organ against the helpless prince, starting with the fabric between his legs, then gliding up over his exposed torso. He paints Ling's body with clear, chemical-smelling goo, tasting him from top to bottom.

"Now don't you look pretty? You're all shiny for me." Somehow Greed can speak clearly, even with his tongue sprawled over Ling's miniature figure. "What would LanFan say if she saw her prince being treated like this? Does she have any idea how badly you crave it?"

"Nnngh…" Ling tips his head back and allows the scintillating sensations to hijack his body, relishing in the debasement. Ah, yes… this is familiar. Almost like coming home.

As Greed prepares to lick him again, nestling the tip of his tongue against Ling's own aching organ, he tries to speak. "Don't-"

But the word barely jumps from Ling's lips before his voice is overpowered by Greed's laughter, loud as a siren and twice as cruel.

"You might as well erase that word from your vocabulary, brat. I'm gonna do what I want."

Ling's voice drops from his open mouth in one long note as he endures another wet lashing. He pitifully looks up at his captor through the globs of water forming in his eyes, begging them not to fall, lest he be subjected to even further ridicule. "P-Please don't… don't leave me again…"

Greed's entire visage shudders. Greed glares down at the annoying little lord, all tangled up in his cords, shy of begging for a drop of attention... Just look how quickly he's reduced himself to a weeping puddle. He didn't even try to put up a fight.

It's almost sad. Almost.

"All right. That's enough talking from you."

The tiny tendrils poking Ling's lips wriggle away and wrap around each other in a braid. The black flesh fuses into one mass of muscle, and Greed drills the tip of the appendage past Ling's teeth. Ling doesn't hesitate to wrap his lips around him, welcoming the invasion.

"Please. You couldn't force me to leave, even if you wanted to."

Greed's voice drops to a low husk as he forces his way inside the prince's waiting mouth. He even groans a little, as if it brings him pleasure to glide against that tiny tongue. Ling tries not to choke as Greed descends further and further down his throat, but he can't help gagging on the impossible length.

"I want everything," Greed tells him. "And that includes you."

Ling wakes up with a start. He falls back into his body and the entire thing jolts. The room is pitch black, except a line of moonlight cutting across the floor. His legs and arms are tangled up in the bed sheet, soaked with a cold sweat.

The mattress springs creak as LanFan shifts at his side. She rolls over to face him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"My Lord? Are you all right?"

Wracked with shivers, Ling squirms free from the bondage of the sheet. He pulls the whole thing off the bed and tosses it down to the floor, grabbing the comforter and tugging it over his wet torso. He lies back down and scoots closer to the center of the bed. Welcoming heat radiates from LanFan's naked body. She holds up her arm - the one that's still made of flesh - and wraps him in an embrace.

"Another nightmare?" she asks.

Ling tucks his head under her chin and nods.

"The same one?"

"No. Not even close."

Ever since That Day, every time Ling closes his eyes, he sees Greed. This happens every night without fail, with no regard for Ling's temperament, how much he ate that day, or how badly he needs to rest. Usually his mind forces him to replay the same scene over and over again; no matter how tightly he holds on, he always wakes just as Greed slips from his grasp. This time was… different, to say the least.

It's hard to tell whether this new dream was better or worse.

LanFan soothes him with gentle scratches on his scalp from her automail fingers, nevermind the sweat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ling musters up a smile and nuzzles her jawline with the tip of his nose. "Don't be silly. It's a big day tomorrow. We should both rest up."

LanFan pushes his bangs away from his face and plants a sweet little kiss against his damp forehead. "If you say so, My Lord."

She turns onto her back and he rests his head against her shoulder, scooping an arm over her waist and pulling her closer. "You don't have to keep calling me that, you know."

"But you like it so much when I do," LanFan says, and it pulls a sincere laugh out of him.

"I do. I really do."

She pets the top of his head and yawns, already succumbing to the sleep she'd forsaken to comfort him. "Are you excited to return home?" she asks. Their journey begins tomorrow, at daybreak. The plan is to take a train all the way to the edge of Amestris, then tough it out across the desert.

"Absolutely," Ling says. "I'll be happy to get some real Xinese food… It's been soooo looong."

A little burst of air escapes LanFan's nose. The young lord must really be all right if he's whining like this. "There will be plenty of that waiting for you. And much, much more..."

After a few more kisses and some tender goodnights, LanFan falls back to sleep, leaving Ling alone with the night once again. He holds onto her for dear life, and keeps himself awake pretending the shadows aren't closing in, inch by inch, thoroughly violating his privacy in a manner that's just… too familiar.