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The More I Learn to Care For You: Ed's POV	By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3037 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: I don't own...obviously.

Roy's dialog belongs to
ZaKai.� Be sure to check out Roy's POV for his side of
this via my profile XD

Beware the flash back :D� Sorry about the lateness of this update.� I�m sure everyone has forgotten about this fic, but if you stop by, please review for both of us.

Chapter 10

�You'll do fine, Ed.�
Just be yourself, but not too much like yourself,� Al said from
somewhere in their dorm room.�

Ed frowned at his reflection.� �What does that even mean?� asked Ed
from the bathroom.� He almost wished Al
would hurry up and admit that he no longer wanted to be in Central, but be back home...where Winry was.�
But he wouldn't go until he knew Ed would be okay...whatever that
meant.� He could take care of himself
just fine.

�It means you're hopeless in the best of situations?�
offered Al.

�Fuck this!� I'm not
going,� said Ed stubbornly.� What made
him think that it was okay to hang out with Mustang?� Stupid bastard telling him
all those things.� Why the hell
was he following him around only to tell him it was okay for two guys to be
together?� Why would the bastard even
think about two guys together?� It didn't
make any sense.��

�Don't be dense, Ed.�
Just try it,� cajoled Al.�

He knew it was a lost cause, really.� If Al really wanted him to do something, he
didn't have a flying fuck's chance in hell to get out of it.� Better just to give in now and be done with
it.� �Fine Al, fine,� said Ed, coming out
of the bathroom, wrapping the elastic around the end of his braid.

�Are you wearing that?� wondered Al, looking him over with a
sigh.

�Why?� What's wrong
with it?� asked Ed, looking down at his usual dark leather pants and his black
tank-top.� It was a warm day; there was
no need for him to wear his jacket over top of this.� Plus, since Roy seemed to like him like that
it would be better to remind him sooner rather then later that he was like
this; an amputee.� Damaged
goods.�

Al shook his head at him, and sighed mightily as if Ed would
be the death of him.� To that Ed just
raised an eyebrow at his brother.� He
watched as Al pinched his nose, his hair falling into his face.� Ed would never get tired of seeing his
brother in the flesh.� He always found
himself just staring.

�I suppose he should at least be used to seeing you like
that,� said Al magnanimously.�

�You're the poster child for kindness, you know that?� said
Ed sarcastically as he scooped up his keys from the bedside table.��

�Don't come home too soon, brother,� called Al as he left
the room, closing the door behind him.�
Ed hunched his shoulders wishing his brother would just shut up and stop
drawing attention to him.� Already he was
receiving looks from the other enlisted men and women who happened to be in the
hallways due to his arm, making him second guess his decision to forgo the
jacket.�

Deciding against heading back to his room, he left the dorms
and began to walk towards the colonel's house.�
He questioned himself more then once on why he was doing this as he made
his way through the base.� Why had he
finally given in and agreed to this 'date' idea of Mustang's?� It was probably because of all those weird
ideas he kept whispering in his ear whenever he got a chance.�

He made short work of the walk to Mustang's house.� He looked up at the row of two story attached
houses, Mustang's apartment somewhere in the middle.� It was really nice for an apartment.� Somehow�that really surprised him.� He sort of pictured Roy�s place as being a
dingy, run down hovel�not like this.

With a mental shrug and a sigh, Ed climbed up the three
steps to the colonel's front door and stared at the knocker.� He just couldn't do it.� He couldn't knock on the bastard's front door
like he wanted to be here.� He shoved his
hands deep into his pant pockets.�
Mustang wasn't going to know...it went against all that he was used to
when dealing with the colonel.� Being
polite to the bastard...it didn't work.�
So instead, he kicked the door twice to announce his arrival.�

There was no answer.

Ed stood outside the door, staining to hear what was going
on behind it and the longer he stood out there the more annoyed he became.� If the colonel was going to invite him out
here, why wouldn't he be answering the fucking door?�

Clicking his tongue, Ed pivoted on the ball of his foot and
stomped down the stairs.� As his left
foot left the colonel's last step the front door opened.� Ed turned back, looking over his shoulder to
find the colonel out of uniform.�
Blinking at the unusual attire�a gray short sleeve shirt, jeans and a
red apron�he looked up to see the colonel smiling hugely.�

-�� -�� -�� -

�Argh!�� The strangled cry worked its way past his
clenched teeth and into the sterile operating room.� He had to force stillness on his body that only
wanted to thrash and get away from the pain.�
And yet, here he was allowing it to happen and resisting the natural
instinct to avoid pain.

�Hang in there, Ed,� Winry said, handing a clean scalpel to
Pinako.� �You're doing fine.�

Ed could only pant in response.� His whole body was tense as the two women
worked on righting the receptor in his arm.�
They had to have been working on his arm for what felt like days.� Every time they inserted another tool into
his shoulder, time froze and he had to remind himself to breath and not give
into unconsciousness.

-�� -�� -�� -

�Come in,� the colonel said, pulling the door open wide
enough for him to pass.� Unable to make
his mind get past the fact that the bastard was out of uniform and how bizarre
it looked, Ed climbed the stairs again.�
The sound of the door closing was almost like getting locked up in a
room with Scar and having to fight him without any alchemy.� He was doomed.

�Let's go out back,� said Mustang, a hand landing on his
left shoulder making him tense.� �That's
where the fire pit is.� I was just about
to light it up and get the food started.�

Being touched, and by the colonel no less, was so foreign
that it completely took him off guard.�
He looked up, sidelong, at Mustang, trying to make his mouth form the
words needed that would let Mustang know that he wasn't allowed to touch him
but nothing came out.� Perturbed by his
own inability to express himself, Ed looked through the house to where 'out
back' must be, letting Roy push him forward and could only mumble, �Um...okay.�

Mustang then laughed at him, adding to his confusion.� �Stop acting like I'm leading you to the pit
of doom.�� He paused, Ed waited for what
he would do next.� �Oh, you haven't been
here before, have you?� Well, there's not
much to see, but if you want a tour I can give you one after we eat.�

Ed nodded, not really absorbing what Mustang said, other
then that he had spoken.� He was still
caught up in the fact that Mustang touched him and all that it implied...and he
wasn't sure even now, here in Mustang's house, if he was all that okay with
it.� �Right...� he mumbled; he was the
one who had come at his own free will.

Mustang let his hand drop away and moved around him towards
a patio door, opening it.� �We're right
over there,� said the colonel, pointing out the door.� Ed came forward, curious despite
himself.� He squeezed himself close to
the other side of the window, as far away from Mustang as he could get, and
looked out onto a wide manicured lawn seeing a fire pit with a blanket near
it.�

�Um...do you want me to...ah...help somehow?� wondered Ed,
hating how he felt so out of his element.

Mustang stepped out onto the deck, waving for Ed to follow
him.� �Can you cut tomatoes?� asked
Mustang, heading across the grass.

�

Ed pressed his lips in consideration.� Most of the time, whenever he cooked it was
easy stuff that came from a can or maybe Al, tired of seeing him eat so poorly,
would go out and get something for him.�
Now that Al could eat too, he had taken over most of the cooking duties,
using the dorm's communal kitchen.� He
hadn't ever cut a tomato before.� �I
don't know, I've never tried,� he said at Mustang's back.

�I'm sure someone as skilled in so many areas won't have any
problems,� said Mustang.� The colonel knelt
down in front of the fire pit.�

That kinda sounded like an insult, if he could just figure
out what was being insulted.� Once
he figured it out though, he was going to scream his head off at the
bastard.� But for now...� �Okay, but don't get mad at me if I get it
wrong, bastard,� said Ed, watching as Mustang arranged the firewood in the pit
and then stood.� His eyes widened as he
watched Mustang pull a glove from his jeans and slipped it on.� The bastard was going to use alchemy to light
the fire.� It was both incredibly lazy
and fascinating at the same time.� He
always covertly watched avidly whenever Mustang used his alchemy.� It was always intense to see sparks and flame
appear out of nowhere.

�I'm sure you'll do fine,� said Mustang with a snap.

Ed turned away from the sight.� He couldn't let the bastard know that he
liked it when he did alchemy�that went against everything he believed�and he
didn't want to give Mustang ammo to use against him.� Well, if the bastard cared to look he was
going to show him that he could be flashy too.�
Crouching down next to the cutting board, Ed picked up the knife lying
there and flipped it into the air, neatly snatching it as it fell towards his
left hand.�

Ed shot a glance over at the fire pit, but Mustang didn't
see because he was still messing around with the fire.� It wasn't like he wanted the bastard to see
it anyway.

Pulling a fat tomato out of a bowl, Ed placed it on the
cutting board.� He was aware that Mustang
moved around to the other side of the blanket and began to cut an onion.� Ed watched secretly at how Mustang held the
onion, how he made the knife bite through the layers, making nicely formed
slices.� When Ed forced the knife through
the soft flesh of his tomato, he crushed it.

�Like this?� asked Ed dubiously, showing his efforts to the
man across from him.� Mustang looked up
at him, then down at his cutting board, humming in consideration.

Mustang got up from his position.� Ed followed with his eyes, wondering what the
man was doing now.� The colonel came
around behind him, crouching down...and then Mustang's hands covered his
own.� Ed's brain shorted out, fizzling in
his skull and his eyes went wide as he looked down at those pale hands over top
of his darker tanned one and his metal hand.�
The contrast made him blush heavily for some reason.� His face felt so hot he was sure he looked
very much like this tomato in front of him.

�Tomatoes are softer and more fragile then onions, so you
have to be more gentle with them.� You have to coax them to do what you
want.� Like this,� said Mustang, his
breath whispering past his ear.� The
timber of Mustang's voice was very, very different up close.� Mustang guided his numb hands; one to hold
the tomato, the other to slice through the flesh making a nicely formed, round
disc.� �If you force it, then it will
fall apart, but if you are easy with it, then it will do exactly what you want
it to.� See?�

Ed held very still as Mustang showed him this.� One move in any direction may cause him to
accidentally touch the bastard and he couldn't have that.� �Y-yeah...� squeaked Ed.� �Ah�okay.�� He hoped that was good enough for the bastard
and would leave him alone now.� He
couldn't take much more of this before he started to do some of those 'stupid'
things he was known for.

�Good,� said Mustang, finally releasing his hands and
standing.� Out of the corner of his eye,
he saw Mustang resume his seat opposite him and continue to cut the onion he
had abandoned.� But Ed was still looking
down at his hands.� They were shaking
slightly.� �How's your research coming
along?� asked Mustang as if what he had just done was normal.

Dropping the knife with a clatter from his nerveless
fingers, Ed stood from the grass, turning towards the house.� It was his intention to leave right now
and seriously kick Mustang's ass next time he saw him at work, but then Al's
casual remark about him not coming back too soon rang in his ears.� It would have sounded casual to anyone else,
but since he knew what Al was capable of, it was more in the realm of a
threat.� That meant he had to stay here
for a while longer, and that meant he had to talk to the bastard.

�Ah...yeah...it's good...I guess...� Ed mumbled.� He had to stop himself from saying anymore
because he sounded like an idiot!�
�Dammit,� he cursed under his breath, his fists clenching.� There was nothing for it.� He needed to move and there was no one he
could fight against at the moment, unless you counted the bastard.�

Raising his hands to cross in front of his face, Ed brought
them down in a tight circle to meet in front of his groin; one hand open to
hold the other; a fist.� With a shift of
his weight, Ed began to move through one of the few patterns teacher had taught
him, hoping it would do to ease his emotions for the time being.� He got halfway through before he even thought
that Mustang might be watching him do all this, so as soon as he finished his
current movement, he took a deep breath and hurried back to his seat in the
grass, certain that Mustang had watched him.��

�So, ah, Al said I'm not allowed to come home.� But you're kinda making me tense...just so
you know,� said Ed.� He just hated that
he had to admit that but he wanted Mustang to know that he was making him feel
cornered.� When he felt like that, he
usually started hitting things.�

The wind shifted slightly, bringing with it the smell of the
burgers and corn cobs cooking over the flame.�
Mustang looked up at him and smirked.�
�That really help calm you down?�

�What?� That?� asked Ed,
pointing over his shoulder at the grass behind him, giving Mustang a quick
glance.� �Ah, yea�that's like...�� Ed paused.�
He was going to explain it, but then he wasn't really sure if Mustang
would understand just how much he needed to be able to push his body
sometimes.� The exercise helped him,
especially now in this high stress environment.�
�Yeah, it does,� finished Ed.� He
didn't want to open up to the bastard.

�Hm...� hummed Roy, slicing off a disc of tomato.� Ed watched him pick up a misshapen chunk and
pop it in his mouth.� He didn't like that
look on Mustang's face.� Like he was
sorting something out...

-�� -�� -�� -

There was a brief respite from the pain, as Pinako switched
tools, allowing Ed the chance to gather himself for the next round.� Sweat coated his body, plastering his hair to
his face and neck.� His stomach and left
shoulder added their own notes of agony to the torment he was suffering.�

Ed blinked his eyes, squeezing out the sweat that dripped
from his eyebrow.� Breathing deep to calm
his body and prepare himself for the next stage of the operation, Ed tried to
get his mind away from those memories.�
But they were popping up in his mind like grasshoppers.� Al had encouraged him to hang out with Roy in the beginning when Roy had started to plant all those weird
ideas in his mind about two men together.

Just look at where it got him...

�Here we go,� said Pinako, the only warning she was going to
give.� Ed had enough time to turn towards
her to see the scalpel being inserted deep into his shoulder.� For a few tense moments where nothing
happened and then he felt the cold blade bite his
flesh.

-�� -�� -�� -

�Maybe you should show me how to do some of that.� I'm always looking for new ways to help calm
me down when I'm uptight,� said Mustang.

Ed couldn't believe what he was hearing!� Mustang wanted to learn how to
fight!� Frowning deeply at the man seated
across from him, Ed sized up his commander, wondering just how useful he would
be in a real fight and couldn't get past the image of him being utterly
useless.� There was no way that Mustang
would be any good.� When they had that
battle assessment, Mustang had been good at keeping him away, but as soon as Ed
had gotten close he had froze.� He had
always felt a bit resentful that the match had ended so soon...� If Mustang wanted to learn how to fight, Ed
would be the one teaching him...

A slow, smirk slid across his face.� Oh, this was perfect!� He could teach Mustang how to fight, and beat
him up without fear of reprisal, since he could claim that it was all part of
the lesson!� Sweet!� �I don't know, you might not be able to
handle it,� said Ed, hoping he didn't sound too eager to agree to this.� �Sitting behind a desk all day long, it looks
like you're a bit...�� Ed grinned
wide.� �Soft?� he finished, making it
into a question knowing that he was right.

Mustang chuckled at him and went to turn the hamburgers and
cobs over.� �Perhaps I'm not as young and
fit as you, but I have a lot more stamina then you might believe,� said
Mustang, looking over his shoulder to smirk at him in return.�

Ed had a sneaking suspicion that there was a double meaning
in there somewhere, but couldn't quite work out what Mustang was alluding
to.� �Oh?�
I've never seen it�this stamina you think you have,� said Ed to cover
his confusion.

That seemed to make Mustang happy, for he grinned even
wider.� �Well, you know, they say that
anyone can learn under the right teacher, but if you don't think you're up for
the job...�

�The fuck I ain't!� exclaimed Ed, thoroughly
insulted.� He could be a really good
teacher!� He knew, because he'd taught a
few people in his travels on any number of things.� �I can teach you!� I just don't know if you're a good student,�
said Ed, glaring up at Mustang.�

There was a twinkle in Mustang's eyes as he looked over at
him with a pleased sort of smug grin on his face.� �I guess the only way to know is for you to
give it a shot.�

Ed snorted at Mustang.�
�Don't look so smug, bastard.�
You've yet to see my teaching style!�
You might sing a different tune after I'm through with you�and when's
supper?� I'm starving here!�� He was rewarded with seeing the bastard's
grin slide off his face before he turned back to the fire pit to check on the
food.� Serves him right for thinking he
was going to be easy on the bastard just because he was his boss.� As if!�
Mustang was giving him the chance at a bit of payback, how could he
assume that he wouldn't take it?

�How well do you like your hamburgers?� wondered Mustang.�

Ed looked up from the blanket at the tone of foreboding in
Mustang's voice and laughed.� �I don't
care.� And I'm holding you to your
lesson,� said Ed.� Mustang was only
trying to get out of work now that he'd agreed to learning from him.� Pussy!�
Leaning across the blanket, Ed picked out a slice of pickle and popped
it into his mouth, enjoying the crisp flavor.

�Will this lesson be before or after the hamburgers of
doom?� wondered Mustang.� He lowered the
plate down so that Ed could see the contents.

Frowning at the plate, Ed poked the charred meat
curiously.� They didn't look all that
bad.� They were probably good on the
inside.� The corn cobs looked horrible, though.� �They're still good,� said Ed, giving voice
to his thoughts.� �Just put lots of other
stuff on them if you're too 'soft'.�� Ed
smirked over at Mustang.� Actually, this
wasn't so bad.� Being able to learn all
sorts of things about Mustang that he could tease him about later was almost
worth the stress of hanging around the bastard.

Mustang smirked, mirroring Ed's.� �I'm never soft with things that matter,� he
said.� He looked down at the plate in his
hand, scowling.� Settling on the blanket
across from him, Mustang took one of the buns and placed a hamburger on
it.� �And anyway, I can handle burnt
food, I just don't enjoy it.�

Ed picked out a hamburger for himself, picking out a few of
the condiments that he wanted to add.� He
looked up at Mustang as he spoke to find him looking at him with a small
smirk.� �I only like having the best,�
said Mustang.�

Slapping some lettuce on his burger, Ed said, �Translation:
you're soft.�� Ed squirted a large gob of
ketchup, then mustard over top of his burger.�

-�� -�� -�� -

�UHMM!�� Ed slammed his head against the table,
knocking it hard, but he didn't feel it.�
All he could feel was each sweep of the blade that sliced into his
flesh, and then the swab soaking up his blood.�
Repeated again, and again.� For eternity.��

�Looks like we're ready to realign the receptor,� murmured
Pinako to Winry.� Ed could just catch the
meaning behind those words.� �Go!�

It was beyond agony.�
It was as though his whole insides were being moved and pulled
upwards.� If it wasn't for the pain it
would have been a very curious sensation.�
It pulled him up and up until it became too much.� A human body could only endure pain for so
long before the brain stepped in and took over.�
When that happened, Ed passed out, slumping back into the table.�

-�� -�� -�� -

�So, you're saying that you're not soft, which means you're
used to burnt food...� said Mustang with a
chuckle.� He paused for a moment,
grinning at Ed.� �Don't you cook for
yourself?� he wondered.

�Sometimes, but Al doesn't like me in the kitchen,� said Ed,
placing the top bun on his hamburger and smushing
everything together.� �He doesn't like
burnt food either, but I'm used to it.� I
had to feed myself for six years after all.��
Ed was very happy that Al had taken up the cooking duties once he got
his body back.� Everything tasted better
to Ed when Al cooked and it allowed Al to feel like he was contributing in
someway.� Lifting the hamburger, Ed took
a large bite hungrily.��

�Hm, so you're saying that Alphonse is soft too, because he
doesn't like burnt food,� said Mustang, very seriously to his plate.� He then looked up at Ed.� �Does he know you feel this way?� asked
Mustang, a smile tugging at his lips.

Working the mouthful around, Ed swallowed before saying,
�Oh, yeah!� I tell him all the time, but
he won't listen.�� Just thinking about Al
being soft; it was as it should be.� Al
was meant to be soft, not hard and hollow in a metal suit.� �He always beats me anyway.�� Al would always be one helluva
fighter.� That wouldn't change no matter
what.�� Besides, Al is allowed to be
soft,� said Ed pensively before taking another bite of his burger.

�Oh?� And I'm not?�
inquired Mustang, taking a bite of his own burger with a grimace.

Forcing down his mouthful in order to talk, Ed wiped his
hand across his mouth to clean away the dribble of juice that escaped and said,
�No, you're not.� Al is kind and gentle,
but you're a person that wants to get to the top, so you have to be hard.� That's just the way it is.�� Opening his mouth wide, Ed pushed in the last
bite of his burger.�

As he reached for another burger, Mustang looked towards the
house past his shoulder and spoke thoughtfully.�
�Perhaps...� Though it does no
good to reach the top if you can't understand those at the bottom...� There's a time to be hard and a time to be
soft.�� Looking up at Mustang, Ed met his
considering gaze, forgetting about his second helping.� �My master taught me that.� It's an important concept when trying to work
with flame alchemy.�� Mustang grinned at
him while lifting up his hamburger.�
�With this it doesn't matter.�
Okay, I admit it.� I hate having
burnt food, so yes, I'm soft.� I love
good food and fine wine.� I like having a
nice apartment and being well dressed...and good other things.� I guess that does make me soft in those
areas, doesn't it?�

Ed blinked at Mustang.�
He was being treated normally...?�
No condensing comments, no short jokes.�
Just simple, albeit strange, conversation.� He didn't get it.� What was Mustang trying to prove?� He always viewed moments like these with
suspicion...and they were happening more often, much to his chagrin.� He just didn't know what Mustang was trying
to prove.� �You're hard to read, you
know,� confessed Ed.

Mustang smiled at him.�
�Do you really think so?� he asked.�

�Yeah,� said Ed with a press of his lips.� Ed frowned while he chewed on his bottom
lip.� Maybe all those things that Mustang
had been filling his head with for so long were starting to make sense.� Could Mustang really like him like that?� Even though he was a guy?� No�Ed shook his head.� �So!� I
don't think you're going to finish that,� said Ed, pointing to Mustang's
plate.� �How about I show you some 'good'
fighting moves?�

Putting his plate aside, Mustang said, �If you really think
you can teach me,� as he stood.

�I can teach you, it's just a question of if you can
learn.� So, I assume you know some
basics, like how to punch and stuff?� wondered Ed as he also rose from the
ground.

�Maybe,� said Mustang.�
Ed looked over at the man to see his arms folded across his chest and he
seemed to be embarrassed.� �It depends on
what you mean by 'punching and stuff'.�
If you're asking if I was trained in hand-to-hand combat, then the
answer is probably no.� I learned how to
handle a gun in basic training and as an alchemist I fight long range.� I never actually bothered with learning
'proper' hand-to-hand fighting skills.�

�Well that makes it a bit harder,� said Ed with an annoyed
sigh as he walked back toward the house and a clean expanse on the grass.� �Alright, come here and copy me.�� Ed took up his usual fighting stance, but made
it a little more upright since Mustang wasn't used to being down close to the
ground like he was.� He felt a small
thrill when Mustang followed his order, matching his stance.�

Critically eying Mustang's stance, Ed came up along side of
him and with his feet, kicked Mustang's legs further apart.� He took up a position beside his
commander.� �Okay, front hand jab,� said
Ed, quickly snapping out his front hand.�
�Rear hand jab, or reverse punch.�� He pivoted forward and punched with the rear
hand.

Mustang watched this blandly.� �Can you do that again?� Perhaps a little more slowly?� he asked.� Ed's jaw dropped open as he looked at Mustang
incredulously.� How could what he just
did be hard?�

�Like this, dammit Roy,
pay attention for once,� growled Ed, grabbing a hold of Mustang's front hand to
make him jab.� �And the same for the back
hand, okay?� asked Ed, once again showing Mustang how to punch.

Out of the corner of his vision, Ed could see Mustang giving
him a strange, thoughtful look, before he did as he was told and punched the
air.� Confused as to why Mustang was
looking at him like that, he focused on Mustang's form.� It was better then he would have thought
Mustang was capable of.� There might be
hope yet.

Mustang dropped his hands back down to his side.� �You know, maybe you're right.� Maybe this type of fighting isn't for me,� he
said.

�What?� You're
quitting already?� You're such a
slacker!� accused Ed, rounding on Mustang with an unhappy glare.

With a nod, Mustang said, �I hear that from Hawkeye all the
time.�� He shrugged.� �I can do some close range fighting,
but it's not like this.� More wrestling
and eh...well.�� Mustang paused, looking
hesitant.� �Just out and out pelting on
the other guy...but that was when I was younger.� Back when I lived...well, not here.�

�Oh?� Are you any
good?� asked Ed, giving Mustang the once over.�
Maybe he could be a good wrestler.�
He was wiry looking.� Might be helpful to get out of locks and such.

�Sure thing.� Me and the guys once
got arrested for...ah, yes.� I used to
be, but I haven't wrestled or fought like that since Maes and I...� Not for a
while,� finished Mustang, clearing his throat.

Ed frowned up at Mustang.�
Arrested...?� Mustang?� Ed blinked at the thought of Mustang behind
bars.� �Well...I could see if you can
still wrestle.� I don't know any formal
rules for it, like the sport, but for self-defense...I could make you eat
dirt,� said Ed smugly.� He immediately
turned and dropped into his usual low fighting stance, waiting on Mustang to do
the same.

Mustang considered him.�
�Why don't we get the food cleaned up first, and do this inside...�
suggested Mustang, then he grinned.� Ed abandoned his stance.� �Wrestling isn't the most dignified for
someone my age and I'd rather not do it where my neighbors can see.��

Ed pressed his lips at Mustang's retreating back as he knelt
in front of the fire, throwing dirt on it.�
�You're really going to fight me?�
You're not looking for a way out?� asked Ed.

�Of course not.� I'm looking forward to this.� I haven't wrestled in years.�� Mustang looked over his shoulder at him.� �Though, I have to warn you, I'm terrible at
holding back.� Back when Ma...Hughes was
dating Gracia, he and I were wrestling and I broke his arm.� That was the last time I wrestled and I'll
tell you what, I got a scolding from her like you wouldn't believe,� said
Mustang with a laugh.�

Whoa...� Mustang was
really laughing...like, not forced or an act...�
He couldn't believe what was happening.�
Sure, Mustang had been getting 'close' to him, or trying to anyway, but
this was the first time that he'd actually seen any kind of unguarded emotions
from the man.�

�Though Hughes got one too,� continued Mustang.� �That woman is scary sometimes...� Will you grab those?� asked Mustang, pointing
to the items on the blanket.� Without
waiting for his assent, Mustang resumed dousing the fire.

�No shit!� You broke
his arm for real?� asked Ed, hurrying to clean up the mess.� �That's funny!� said Ed with a laugh.� Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad that he was
with Mustang, hanging out.� If it was going to be like this, then why the hell not?� �Don't worry about holding back, when I get
excited, I tend to forget about my arm and leg, so I'm sure I'll deserve
it.� You know, I don't think I've ever
seen Gracia mad.� What was that like?�
wondered Ed, laughing once more at the thought of Mustang getting ragged out by
Gracia.

Gathering up his own load, Mustang
began to head for the house.� �It was
half like looking into the pits of hell, and half like being scolded by my own
mother,� he admitted with a chuckle.� Ed
snickered, quickly piling up items to carry into the house.� �By that time, Hughes had already gotten used
to her cooking and so I think he had the worse of it since she didn't make
anything for him for a week.� That was
what really made him swear off wrestling with me, not the broken arm.�

-�� -�� -�� -

�Ed, open your eyes.�
Ed...?� Winry's voice called to him from a great distance.�

Ed tried to turn his head towards the voice and tried to
open his eyes, but his neck didn't move, and his eyelids were heavy.� Every inch of his body was thrumming with
sensations.� He wished he could tell them
to give him something to make it go away, but even his mouth wasn't listening
to him right now.� Nothing was.� A faint sigh whispered past his chapped lips.

�Is he alright?�� Al's voice.� He was
near, on the other side of him.

�He's fine.� It took a
lot out of him though.�

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments where the
only sounds were his own softly panting breathing and
the sound of footsteps.� He could almost
imagine Winry bustling around the work room, cleaning up after the
procedure.� And Al.� Al would be standing over him, or maybe
sitting next to him just like the first time he'd gotten Auto-mail.�

-�� -�� -�� -

Picking up the last bowl of onions, Ed hurried after
Mustang.� �You
didn't eat that much, are you still hungry?� wondered Ed, noticing that there
was still a lot of untouched food here.�
�Look, there's still a bit of burger-charcoal left.�

�I'm
fine.� I'll order take out later tonight
or eat something that's around here if I get hungry,� said Mustang wryly.

�Oh, 'kay.� So, where will we wrestle?� Do you have room?� wondered Ed as they
crossed the small deck and into the house.

Mustang put
his armful down on the kitchen counter and pulled off his apron, laying it down
beside the plates.� �I have the most open
space in the living room.� It should
work, though we might not have as much room as we'd like.�

Placing his stuff next to Mustang's, Ed looked up at
him.� �Okay, whatever,� he said with a
glint in his eye.� �Let's do this!� It's been a long time that I wanted to pound
you for always teasing me, now I'll get my chance.�� Ed smiled at Mustang in anticipation.� Mustang simply headed for the front room,
waving Ed to follow.�

Ed trailed behind, smiling
enthusiastically.� This was going to be
so awesome!� Finally, he would be showing
Mustang who the victory should have gone to on the day of the battle assessment;
a clear win for him.� Without
another word, Ed lunged at Roy's
unsuspecting back.� Something must have
given him away, for suddenly Mustang was ducking to the side.� He reached out and pushed on Ed's shoulders,
sending him further into the room.�

As he stumbled past Mustang,
Ed reached out and caught his right hand in the fabric of Mustang's shirt;
letting Mustang's body act as his break.�
Before he could come to a complete stop, Mustang gripped the hand in his
shirt front, another on his far shoulder.�
Ed knew what he was going to try, and thought he'd be 'kind' enough to
let Mustang think he could trip him as easily as this.

Mustang took
him down; Ed pulled his chin down to his chest and splayed his arms and legs as
best he could to minimize the shock of the fall.� Before Mustang could land on him, or pin him
down, Ed worked his feet up against Mustang's belly, fully intending to give as
well as he had gotten.�

�Too slow, old
man!� taunted Ed, sure in his imminent victory.�
But Mustang surprised him by rolling to the side, pinning one leg under
his weight.� Mustang elbowed his other
leg, trying to force it open, in doing so, he let Ed's
trapped leg go.� Not wanting to get
pinned, Ed used his newly freed leg to push on Mustang's thigh so that he slid
across the floor.� He rolled to the side,
placing one leg on the floor, about to rise for his second attack.��

Suddenly,
Mustang lunged forward, knocking into Ed and surprising him with the sudden
weight.� A scuffle broke out as Ed tried
to keep his hands out of Mustang's grasp.�
He twisted this way and that, Mustang always following him.� Then, somehow, Ed found himself pinned under
Mustang's greater weight, with his hands pressed firmly into the floor above
his head.� Before he could think about
getting his hands free, Mustang pinned his legs as well, hooking his feet over
top of Ed's thighs.�

Ed jerked in
Mustang's hold futilely until he realized, for the moment at least, that he was
stuck.� Glaring up at the man hovering
over him, Ed growled, �This
doesn't mean anything!� I can still beat
you!�� To prove it, Ed continued to work
at getting his hands free.� Mustang
panted heavily while watching him for above.�
Ed glared at the bizarre look he was getting.� What the fuck!� Why wasn't he fighting anymore?�

�I think you already may have...� murmured Mustang quietly.� Suddenly Mustang leaned forward, still
holding onto him tightly.� Ed's eyes went
wide as Mustang's lips covered his.

Ed yanked his
head away in shock, knocking it hard against the floor in the process.� If his mind hadn't frozen at the sheer
insanity of the moment, he could only assume that his head would have really
hurt.� As it was, he hardly felt it.� Mustang pulled back to stare at him.� Ed saw his throat work nervously adding to
the sense of surrealism.�

�I'm sorry...� whispered
Mustang.

Ed blinked in
ever increasing shock to hear him apologize.�
�What was that?� wondered Ed
breathlessly, panting slightly from the fight.�
There was an uncomfortable feeling working its way around his stomach as
he looked up into Mustang's face.� That
dark hair was hanging down towards his face, leaving Ed a very close up view of
Mustang's face, still much too close to his own.

�That was...�
began Mustang, still breathing heavily.�
�That was me being soft again...�
I'm sorry...� You probably didn't
like that...�

�I, ah...�� Ed faltered.�
Like it?� His eyes were
immediately drawn to Mustang's lips, still disconcertingly close to his own, then forced himself to look away.� �I, ah...whoa.�� Was this really happening?� A small breathless laugh managed it squeak
its way past his lips.� �Hard to say
really...�

Silence hung
between them.� Ed kept shooting furtive
glances Mustang's way.� There was a
little knot of anticipation, mixing with anxiety, swimming around in his
stomach.� It made it hard to know if he
should demand that Mustang get the hell off of him, or find out if he really did
like that or not.� Through it all,
Mustang just stared at him.

�Do you want
me to do it again so that you can decide?� said Mustang softly.

His attention was immediately
drawn back up to Mustang's face.� The
question, however, caused him to blush furiously at having been caught thinking
that very thing.� Ed suffered under Mustang's
scrutiny for a moment more.� Then slowly,
the colonel leaned down, pressing their lips together for the second time.�

This time, Ed
felt how soft Mustang's lips were as they moved over his.� All other points where their bodies might be
touching were forgotten as the feel of those lips outweighed all others.� Lust was suddenly something very prominent in
Ed's thoughts.� It settled down in his
groin, twitching his penis to life.� It
caused him to inhale through his nose, and then he took the plunge and began
kissing Mustang back.

Goosebumps
erupted down his arm, travelled down his back and leg as Mustang slowly ran his
hand along the sensitive underside of his arm.�
To his surprise he felt the other hand join the first as both hands wove
into his hair at the back of his neck.�
Then, the most shocking thing happened, Mustang
licked his tongue across his lips.� It
was like pure thrill and desire was poured all over him.�

Ed gasped at
the sensation and let his eyes close.�
Suddenly, Mustang's tongue was inside his mouth, moving wetly
along his tongue, his teeth, and the roof of his mouth.� Those fingers in his hair pressed and pulled
him closer.� Moaning against the tongue
in his mouth, he began to push back with his tongue and the sensation
that resulted arced though him more powerfully then before.

Their tongues
slid against each other for a moment more, then
Mustang pulled away, immediately placing hot kisses along the side of his
neck.� Each kiss was accompanied with a
quick pinching of the skin between firm lips.�
As Mustang's lips travelled lower, so too did his hands.� Ed lost track of what those hands were doing
until they touched his waist.

-�� -�� -�� -

�Brother?� Do you want
anything?� Some water?�

Swallowing several times, Ed struggled to make his mouth
move to form words.� �Roy...�
croaked Ed.� Dark eyes and a smug
grin was all that he wanted now.��

�I'm sorry, brother.� I can't bring you Roy.�
He's still in Central.�� A dry,
warm hand brushed over his forehead to be replaced with a cool wet cloth.� Ed sighed.�
His brother's hand continued to stoke over his hair, sending him back to
sleep.

-�� -�� -�� -

�Ah...� gasped Ed, surprised.�
Flashing through his head at super speed was all the rumors and stories
about Mustang and his conquests.� A
shudder rippled its way down his body from the feel of those expert lips on his
neck.� �Ah, Roy...��
He didn't want to be just another notch on Mustang's belt.� �I, well, I've never...� Oh, shit...��
The words wouldn't come out.

Those hands
at his waist didn't pause one bit.� They
dragged his shirt up around his chest and Mustang dipped his head down,
suddenly licking his nipple.� Ed's eyes
rolled into his head.� It felt so good!� �I'll teach you...� murmured Mustang,
switching to his other nipple.� �Say my
name again, Ed...� he said, placing kisses along Ed's stomach, his hands
ghosting down his sides.�

�No, I won't!� said Ed,
realizing that he must have said Mustang's first name.� He shuddered at how his body was responding
under his touch.� �What are you doing to
me?� wondered Ed breathlessly.� Mustang's
lips were seemingly everywhere at once.�
Unconsciously, Ed's right hand found its way to the back of Mustang's
head to encourage more of those touches.�

Mustang
stopped, breathing hard against his stomach.�
The silence lasted for a few moments before Mustang said reluctantly, �I
can stop...� If you don't like it, then just tell me and I'll stop...�

The abrupt stop of those hands,
the way Mustang's breath panted against his stomach; Ed opened his eyes, lifted
his head to look down his chest.� Mustang
was looking intently at him.� He'd never
really paid much attention to just how dark those eyes were before, but now
they looked like unfathomable depths.�
�It-it's not that, but...you...� said Ed, inhaling a large breath to
pull him back from the edge a little bit.�
�You see all those women...�� He
felt his face heat up even more to say those things aloud.

With a shake
of his head, Mustang murmured, �I've never really seen any of them
seriously...� But,
you... I've never wanted any of them like I want you...�� Mustang gracefully moved up his body until
they were face to face.� With a gentle
caress, Mustang ran his fingers down the side of his face.� �You make me feel alive...� I enjoy being with you...� said Mustang
faintly.� �Don't turn me away...�

Whoa, Mustang was serious about
this...� He wanted him?� That revelation caused his insides to squeeze
tight.� Could all those things that Mustang
had been telling him about for so long be true?�
Mustang really did like him?� Ed
let his hand move down Mustang's back.�
This was really happening.�

If this was going to happen, he
wasn't just going to let Mustang have his way, he was going to do his own
investigation.� Suddenly, Ed shifted his
weight, flipping Mustang over onto his back. �Now, Ed was the one hovering over
Mustang.� His braid slid over his
shoulder, dangling in the space between them.�
Mustang met his searching gaze quietly; waiting.

Encouraged that he wasn't going
to be told to stop, Ed let his gaze wander over the man between his legs; more
fully then he ever did before.� His eyes
traced over his brow, down the cheek, following the corded muscles in the
neck.� Would it feel as good for Mustang,
if he kissed his neck?� His attention went lower,
and lower still, because he felt a hardness pressing into his inner
thigh.

He had always been accustomed
to power.� He was comfortable using it
both for his own advantage and for others...but to know that he had the power
to affect someone�Roy Mustang�like this...!

Dragging his eyes upward, Ed
once more considered the man under him.�
So...this could be his...?�
Reaching out with his left hand, he very lightly trailed the tips of his
fingers along the cheekbone.� He could
feel Roy�s�it
was hard to think of Mustang as anything other then Mustang�dark eyes watching
him intently.� Feeling self conscious
under that gaze, Ed licked his lips as he turned his attention to Mustang's
hair.� His hand followed, holding a lock
of hair between his fingers.� It was so
soft, he mused.

His hand next traced the side
of Mustang's face, to his jaw then down to his neck.� He followed the muscles down to that small
hallow�the suprasternal notch�and was rewarded with
quickened breathing.� It was fascinating
that by his touch alone, he was able to affect someone.� Faintly, he felt Mustang touch his face.� He began to wonder what would happen if he
touched Mustang in other places as well, and pushed at the collar of Mustang's
shirt with a frown.� He wouldn't be
getting too far with that in the way.�

�What's
wrong?� wondered Mustang softly.

He blinked,
breaking his focus and looked up at Mustang.�
Moistening his lips, he marshaled his courage, and softly commanded, �Take it off.�� He
flicked the collar of the t-shirt in illustration.

Mustang propped himself up on
one elbow, hooking the back of his shirt with his other hand and pulled.� As one arm was freed, he switched elbows, and
pulled the shirt free.� Throwing the
shirt away, Mustang settled back on the floor, his gaze intent on him.

Examining the expanse of flesh
revealed to him, Ed couldn't help but notice that Mustang couldn't be as lazy
as everyone said.� Though pale, there was
definite muscle tone here, more then he would have credited Mustang for.� Beginning at the neck where he left off, Ed
ghosted his hand along the collar bone on Mustang's right, then down along the
outside of his pectoral.�

The light brown nipple,
surrounded with a few black hairs drew his attention.� He brushed over the erect nipple, watching
intently to catch Mustang's reaction.�
With a loud breath, Mustang closed his eyes leaving only slits.� �What did you feel?� asked Ed quietly.� He always asked this question of Al, wanting
to hear how he processed the new sensitizations of his body.� Al had eagerly explained how he reacted to
each touch, shift and press of everything around him.

Opening his
eyes again, Mustang considered the question.�
�I...� Pleasure...� It felt good...�� He smiled slightly.� �I don't know if I can explain.� I've never been asked that before...�

Ah, he'd forgotten that Mustang
didn't know how to play that game.� �If
you do it...� wondered Ed, reaching for Mustang's hand, willing to show
him.� Manipulating his hand into a point,
Ed used Mustang's finger to touch the man's nipple.�

�It's not the
same... It's better if it's you...�

Better with him, eh?� He could almost say that he liked the sound
of that.� Relinquishing his hold of
Mustang's hand, Ed leaned forward.� Hovering
over Mustang's face, Ed was suddenly presented with the fact that he really had
no idea what to do in this situation.�
Intellectually he knew, but in practice...� �I don't know what to do,� admitted Ed
faintly.� Mustang remained still.� �I don't know what to do now.� I've never...don't be dumb now, bastard!� growled
Ed from the back of his throat.

With a light
touch on his arm, Mustang asked, �Do you want me to show you, or tell you?�

�Yes!� said Ed.� Damn the man for making him admit to his
ignorance.�

That earned a
light chuckle.� �That was an 'either-or'
question,� said Mustang as he touched Ed's ass.�
Ed shifted slightly, unsure if he was really ready for anal sex or
not.� �Let's just take it one step at a
time.� There's so much to learn and you
can't learn it all at once...� Why don't you just let me show you a few things this time and next
time you can try some of it on me...�

�Okay, show me.��

Grinning up at him, Mustang
suddenly flipped them back over, putting Ed on the bottom once again.� Now he had to suffer Mustang's inspection while
having his shirt pushed back up around his armpits.� Then Mustang leaned forward to wrap his mouth
around Ed's nipple.�

Damn, he didn't know that the
nipple was a place that would feel this good.�
Ed squeezed his eyes shut as Mustang's tongue moved over the nub of his
nipple.� It felt so good.� He wove his left hand into the hair at the
back of Mustang's head, and dimly noted the tug at his belt.� Mustang moved to the other nipple, giving a
final tug at his belt.� The feel of his
zipper being pulled down made him grit his teeth and thrust his hips into the
air seeking relief.�

�Uh, Roy...damn...� panted Ed.� This was so much better then what he
was able to do to himself.� The
sensations were ten times more potent then he could ever believe!� His pants were tugged down to his knees, and
Ed felt his first stab of fear.� Would
Mustang just jump right in and...and...� And oh hell, he could see his erection
through his underwear, too.� The bastard
had better not say anything!

Mustang's released his nipple
with a small pop and began to press light kisses down his abdomen.� He kept going lower and lower.� His momentary fear flew away.� The lower Mustang went the more it made Ed
think about stories he'd heard about women 'sucking' men off.� That one image had been good for many
fantasies.� Mustang stopped at the top of
his underwear.� Both of his thumbs hooked
over the elastic and pulled down.

And now, Ed was bared for the
most notorious womanizer to see in all his glory and all Ed could think of was,
was Mustang going to 'suck him off'?� He
lifted his head from the floor, totally drawn in.� His heart thudded hard in his chest.�

Shifting slightly, Mustang
reached out a hand, barely touching him.�
He ran his fingertips from base to tip with that feather light
touch.� �Do you like that?� asked Mustang in his damn sexy voice, watching
him.

�Uhh!�� The sensations washed over him so hard that
his eyes just couldn't seem to stay open any longer.� He felt like his dick was on fire.� He needed more of those touches.� He was going to burst soon!� His hips lifted from the floor, silently
begging for more as his head fell back.�
Then suddenly there was a hot wetness sweeping up the underside of his
cock.� �Ahhh fuuckkk!� exclaimed Ed, letting his body fall back to the
floor.� He fisted his hands ineffectually
off to the sides of his body, unsure of what to do with them.

Next, Mustang
blew along his cock.� The trail of saliva
already left there mixed with the breath�he wouldn't last long under these new
sensations.� He was licked again and
then�oh fuck!�
Mustang put him in his mouth!� Hot
and wet and oh, so fucking good!� He was off the
floor almost instantaneously, leaning over Mustang's head, and holding onto the
man�s shoulders for balance.�

Everything
was pulled down to his cock.� There was
only his cock.� His eyes rolled
cross-eyed when Mustang did some reverse friction with his hand still while
sucking on him.� That mouth would never
be the same to him now!

�S-shit...stop...or...�
panted Ed, his right hand weaving into Mustang's hair.� He didn't listen because he only increased his actions, bring him
even closer.� One last time, he could
only hold out for so long.� Ed pushed at Roy, trying to get him
off of him.� �Stop!� I'm g-gonna...�� And that
was all he could say.� He came.� Hard!�
It was the best, most awesome feeling.�
Ever!�

He flopped back on the floor,
completely spent and�fuck!� He felt good!�
He noted Mustang leaving him for a moment before returning to lie beside
him on the floor, watching him.� As his
euphoria vanished he realized that Mustang was watching him.� He looked up into Mustang's face.� The blush quickly spread
all over his face, making him feel hot.�
He tore his gaze away.� What had
he done?� Mustang had just...sucked
him...

�I enjoyed that... did you?� said Mustang in that very fine voice,
his hand touching his cheek.

He couldn't do it.� He couldn't look at Mustang anymore!� Ever!�
But...he had liked that very, very, very much!� �Yeah...��
Then Ed remembered that very hard erection pressing into his thigh.� Mustang couldn't possibly want him to try
that...� Could he?� It seemed way too gross.� Even if he had enjoyed it, he didn't
think he could actually put his mouth...down there.� �What, ah...about you,� wondered Ed
faintly.� There was probably something he
could do that didn't involve sucking.�

It was at that moment that they
were both surprised by the sudden and loud grumble coming from Mustang's
stomach.� Shocked, Ed looked over at
Mustang, his embarrassment forgotten, and chuckled.�

Mustang
grumbled in the back of his throat, looking quite taken aback.� �Perhaps I should order something to be
delivered here...�� He grinned at him
then.� �Then maybe later we can do
more... wrestling?�� Mustang got to his
feet, heading to the stairs Ed had seen on his way in.� Ed pulled his pants and underwear back into
place.� �Because I have to say, this is
the most enjoyable wrestling I've ever done,� called Roy from upstairs.

-�� -�� -�� -

When Ed next woke, it was in his bed in the room that he
normally shared with Al whenever he stayed over.� The sun was shining brightly though the frost
covered windows to land on the floor while soft piano music drifted throughout
the house.� Through silted eyes, Ed ran
his gaze across the room.� He was alone
for the moment.�

The ache of fever had a firm
grip on his body making him feel incredibly heavy.� With a cautious sigh, Ed let his eyes
close.� He could still feel the
aftereffects of the surgery and the more distant ache of his stomach and other
shoulder.� His leg wound, though shallow,
also complained.� He gave a fleeting
thought to the state of his arm before he fell back into a healing sleep.

As soon as he was able, he'd
asked his brother to help him call Roy...

--To Be Continued--
- 9
- 10
- 11
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The More I Learn to Care For You: Ed's POV