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The Ed Who Played with Fire	By : Aspergirl Category: +1 through F > Ed, Edd, and Eddy Views: 3989 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ed, Edd, & Eddy. No money or profit was made from this fiction.

Chapter List
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Messy, messy, messy, thought Double D. I desperately need to wash! His hands writhed without purpose as he fought the compulsion to wash them. The more he fought, the stronger the need to wash became. He wanted a shower. He wanted to wash away everything: the unknown microorganisms, the feeling of his clammy skin, Eddy's brother's forceful groping. Tears streamed down Double D's face, and he whimpered as Eddy's brother dug his fingernails into Double D's sensitive skin.
Eddy's brother tossed the hat onto his own head, laughing as Double D closed his eyes and shuddered. Fingers sliding back between Double D's legs, Eddy's brother had difficulty bending Double D to his will, quite literally. The brittle rigidity of Double D's figure attempting to curl into a fetal position was made more problematic by the trembling sobs that wracked Double D's whole body. To catch Double D's attention, Eddy's brother draped a forearm across Double D's neck. “Keep still!” he demanded.
Double D thrashed and squeaked, “I can't breathe!” Then he went limp, his eyes closing and tears spilling down his cheeks. Eddy's brother removed the arm, delighting in playing with the fragile boy's life. Double D's eyes fluttered open again, but he was now too afraid to move.
Now that Double D was putty in his hands, Eddy's brother took it upon himself to explore Double D's most private regions. Quickly, Eddy's brother inserted one finger, then two. The pain showed on Double D's face. He threw his head back and wailed. Now his personal space had been taken away, too. No alteration in brain activity could make this disappear. But he was obedient to a fault, and kept still as Eddy's brother ordered, unable to stop crying but unwilling to make a sound.
While Double D could see Eddy's brother's mouth moving, his pain muffled out the words. “How's that for ya?” sneered Eddy's brother, pushing his fingers farther inside. “Quit cryin', honey. I'm just warming you up.” Eddy's brother was more than warmed up. For him, there was no aphrodisiac quite like stolen innocence garnished with spunk. He had done it to any girl he could get his hands on. Holding the helpless boy down, Eddy's brother could not wait any longer.
Withdrawing his fingers, Eddy's brother grasped Double D's legs. A sigh of temporary relief escaped through the gap in the smaller boy's teeth. Perhaps this is over, thought Double D, still trying to be optimistic. I can go back to Eddy – oh my! I mean, Eddy's room – and we can behave as if none of this ever transpired. Leaving out a plan for recovery from Eddy's brother's “compensation”, Double D focused on a shower. Washing healed most wounds, or at least made them more bearable.
Just then, the callous, callused hands wrapped completely around Double D's calves, yanking Double D towards the edge of the bed. Once again, Double D's hopes of escape were dashed. Swallowing hard, Double D prepared for the pain that he knew would come. Eddy's brother lifted Double D's legs and thrust himself inside.
Agony. Compounding Double D's desire to wash and his concerns about Eddy. Double D sobbed as Eddy's brother took him. He had never before felt so dirty.
“What'sa matter? Soon you'll be lovin' my shovin',” boasted Eddy's brother, confident in his masculine prowess. Eddy's brother wiped his forehead and watched himself entering and pulling out of Double D. A drop of blood fell onto the bedsheets. With each thrust, more blood trickled down. The deal was nearly paid off. Eddy was due for a reminder of who was in charge, as far as Eddy's brother was concerned. Double D needed to be put in place too, and this was a fine demonstration of the food chain, of which Double D was at the very bottom.
Higher up in the food chain, hibernating beside Eddy's bed, was Ed, whom Eddy's brother had largely ignored. Ed's stomach, however, was awake. To satisfy its growls, Ed lumbered in the direction of the kitchen, only to smash directly into Eddy's partially open door. Ed's head gave a hollow thud as it bounced off the door, but Ed did not wake up until he stubbed his toe on Eddy's dresser. Ed opened his sleepy eyes and looked down at his swelling red toe in the dim light as the information traveled to his brain.
The response came exploding out of him suddenly, “YOW!!! Foot hurts!” He sat down and touched his toe. “Ugh!” he pulled away, looked at the toe, and gave it another squeeze. “Nnngh!”
Abruptly awakened from dreams of being a jawbreaker tycoon at the top of the Forg's 500 list, Eddy grabbed a pillow and clutched it around his head. He was still able to hear Ed's roars. Heaving the pillow aside and switching on the lava lamp, Eddy grumbled, “What are ya yelling about?”
“My toe hurts when I touch it,” Ed complained.
“Then don't touch it, Lumpy.”
Ed looked at the toe and then back at Eddy. “If I don't touch it, I won't know if it still hurts. Do you have an empty head, mister?”
Eddy lunged out of bed and knocked Ed down. Ed thought it was a game and shot across the room, his toe now forgotten. Eddy turned to chase Ed, but the first thing he noticed was his barren dresser. “What gives?” Eddy demanded. “Where'd all my shit go?” He looked high and low, but it had all vanished. He leapt again at Ed and attempted to pry open his mouth. “You better not have eaten it!” Eddy threatened, all too familiar with Ed's late night eating sprees.
His stomach gurgling, Ed gave it a smack and listened. “Sounds like pork rinds and crayon shavings.” Ed had little appreciation for Eddy's displeasure until he remembered what he had left on the top of the dresser. “Oh no! Phillip is lost!” He ran to the dresser and placed his finger directly on one empty spot.
Eddy, running short on patience, asked with little interest, “Phillip? What's Phillip?”
“Phillip is my friend. I found him on top of a bottle of Mr. Fizz.”
Already, Eddy was losing interest. Plank was one too many inanimate pals for him. Besides, Ed had the attention span of a gnat, and would certainly forget about Phillip the bottlecap soon. “That's fan-freakin'-tastic. Hey Double D, I don't know how you're keeping your mouth shut through all this.” When there was no response, Eddy continued. “No way you're sleeping. Get...” Eddy shuffled through Double D's sleeping bag, only to find it empty.
Ed bent down and looked in the empty sleeping bag. “The stink mutants took Phillip and Double D! They always take the clean ones first,” Ed explained.
“You got nothin' to worry about then,” said Eddy, turning away from Ed to breathe in some fresh air. Standing perfectly still, there was not a sound to be heard. Maybe he took off with the goods,” thought Eddy, trying to add up his missing collection with his missing friend. But right next to the sleeping bag was Double D's safety kit. If Sockhead really split with my stuff, why didn't he take his? Even more perplexing, the jawbreaker that Double D had so relished only a few hours earlier, was still neatly sealed and labeled in its own little compartment. That was entirely unbelievable. “Come on. We gotta find him.” When he listened to himself, he didn't want to sound as attached to Double D as he feared his concern revealed him to be, even if only to Ed. Quickly, Eddy added, “Well, we need to get my stuff back, and only Dr. Disappearo can track it down.”
“Ooh, ooh, I'm the best stuff finder!” Ed announced, beginning to feel competitive with Double D. “Stuff is never in the last place I look, 'cos I keep looking after I find it.”
“Where would I be without you?” grumbled Eddy.
The rhetorical question lost on Ed, Ed pondered. “Stuck to Jonny's wall?”
Eddy ignored this and led Ed into the kitchen. It was dark and empty. Eddy had hoped that his mother's newfound lust for organic foods would come in handy. Soy milk and unidentifiable vegetables would certainly appeal to Double D, and if he ate them, they wouldn't be around for dinner the next day. Eddy opened the fridge door to find a stockpile of foods that Eddy would only touch if a sizable chunk of change was on offer. “He hasn't been in here,” puffed Eddy, growing concerned. Remembering that he didn't want to sound soft, not even in front of Ed, Eddy blustered, “Damn. I know I'll see those again.” He shut the door on the organic goodies.
From the hall beyond the kitchen, came Ed merrily singing:
One, two, there's my shoe
Three, four, there's some more
Five, six, monster flicks
Seven, eight, horrible fate!
“Grrrrrarrr!” roared Ed, holding up a flashlight and making spooky faces. “I will make your nose seek refuge in your brain!”
“Ed! Why don't you just scream the movie so the whole cul-de-sac can...” As Ed's arms lowered, the beam of light swept across the welcome mat. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shoes. Four pairs? “Sockhead never goes anywhere in bare feet. And where did these bruisers come from?” Eddy moved in to examine the biggest pair of shoes. They were a huge pair of fancy basketball shoes, larger even than Ed's rotten old sneakers. Eddy knew who had shoes like that, and it was no stench mutant. It was worse. It was his brother. Instantly, everything made sense. Almost everything. He's got Double D. But why? No one had to know Eddy's brother long before figuring out that everything Eddy's brother touched, he destroyed. “Come on, Stinky,” said Eddy severely. “We got a zombie to grease.”
“I'm ready to go like Ivanhoe,” said Ed, ripping off his undershirt and making fists as Eddy led the way down the hall. Turning the corner, a sliver of light was visible under Eddy's brother's lair.
On the other side of the door, Double D lay pinned as Eddy's brother drilled into him. His breath came in short gasps, and he felt lightheaded even though he was on his back. He was exhausted, too depleted to hold back his sobs. It was of no consequence; the worst was already happening.
Eddy's brother tossed his head and snorted. “Beg me to cum for you,” he growled. Double D hesitated. He knew he had to produce the words, but his mouth was not cooperating. To use words that even hinted at vulgarity was difficult. The words left a bad taste in his mou10th, so much so that he had compulsively washed his own mouth out with soap on more than one occasion. When Double D made no response, Eddy's brother gave a violent thrust and pressed all his weight onto his captive, knocking the air out of Double D. “Come on, bitch. Say it.”
Double D struggled and choked out, “I want your... I-I want it.” Even though he did not say the word, it sickened him.
Running a hand through Double D's hair, Eddy's brother continued to thrust, more rapidly, more powerfully. He bucked his hips and forced his entire length inside Double D. Eddy's brother yanked back on Double D's hair and groaned. As he withdrew, warm liquid spilled down onto the bed. A fistful of Double D's hair had come loose in his hand. He tossed it aside and looked down at Double D, his naked body covered with blood and bruises. Eddy's brother smirked and pulled on a pair of boxers.
Slowly, Double D raised his head. He wanted to keep track of Eddy's brother, but he did not want to look at him. Seeing Double D's uncovered head reminded Eddy's brother of the hat. He picked it up and gave it a twirl. “You'll be needing this back.” He dangled the hat above Double D's head. Aching all over, Double D made a desperate grab for the hat, but missed. Eddy's brother tossed the hat into Double D's face. Wishing he could disappear inside his hat, Double D placed it back on his head, feeling a little better knowing that his secret was concealed from cruel eyes.
“Looks like you got your period,” said Eddy's brother, pointing at the bed. Double D looked at the sheets beneath him and saw the red stain. “Hope you brought a tampon!” jeered Eddy's brother.
Where could Eddy be? wondered Double D, wishing that Eddy had come to the rescue. No. He mustn't see me this way. Double D began to wipe his eyes, but was jostled as Eddy's brother flopped down on the bed, then ran a teasing finger up Double D's spine.
In the hall, Eddy stared at the locked door. “He's gotta be in there. It's time we put my has-been of a bro in his place. You know what to do.”
Ed saluted and backed up against the opposite wall. “Stench mutants! Charge!” boomed Ed as he bolted towards the door at top speed.
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The Ed Who Played with Fire