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New Year's Resolutions	By : Saranwyn Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male > Roy/Ed Views: 1478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or the characters, nor do I profit from them.

Chapter List
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Edward wrapped his arms around himself, shivering against the cold as he trudged through the snow towards the train station. It was times like these when a tiny part of him envied his brother. Of course, the instant that thought entered his head, he kicked it out, reminding himself that Alphonse led a cursed existence because of him. Still, he hated the cold. He hated the way it burned his nose and lungs and the way it made his automail stick and the way it turned his cheeks and ears red. And now, he hated the way it reminded him of Mustang in a suit looking dashing and so damn grown-up. He knew it was stupid to think of it that way – the colonel was far older than him, but normally, the way he bickered with him and the way he would slump moodily in his seat when he had too much paperwork, or the way he let his hair hang in his face covered that up. When he was dressed so sharply, hair slicked out of his eyes, that small, polite smile on his face, he looked so mature and dashing. Dammit! Did I really just think of Mustang as dashing?! What the Hell is wrong with me?!
"…Ed…Ed…ED!" He blinked.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"I've been calling your name for like…ten minutes. You totally spaced out!"
"Oh, sorry. What is it, Al?" His younger brother sighed.
"We have to hurry or we're going to miss our train. It's already noon." Edward gasped, stumbling into a run.
"Come on!" Their train left in just fifteen minutes. Honestly, he was more than ready to get out of Central. It had been a week since he'd gotten back from vacation – on long, torturous, awkward week of shyly mumbling everything he said to his commanding officer and avoiding him whenever possible. He could've cried with joy when he learned he was getting sent all the way down to some tiny outpost in the deep south of Amestris to handle some small uprising. He'd booked the first possible train out of Central City and made plans to stay away as long as he could justify. What he needed was a break from Mustang just to figure out how to handle the new situation. That was all. Just a break to get his bearings, and then things would be back to normal. They got on the train and took their seats just half a minute before it left the station.
"You've never been so excited to go on a mission before, Ed. Is everything okay?" Al asked curiously. Edward grinned.
"Yup! Everything's great. I just got bored, you know?"
"Y-yeah…if you say so." Finally, I won't have to go into the office and see him sitting there and be reminded of that warm, sensual mouth on mine and the taste of whiskey and him on my tongue. The feel of his hands on my waist and cheek, pulling me closer. That dark, smoldering gaze, burning right through me…He shook himself from his thoughts. I have got to stop this! he told himself severely. No more thinking about him! He took a deep breath and stared out the window.
Alphonse watched his brother, who had his eyes glued to the landscape outside his window. This past week, he'd been acting really strangely, especially when he was with Colonel Mustang. He would blush a lot and he would talk quietly and he refused to meet the other man's eyes. But even when he wasn't with the colonel, he spaced out a lot and he would moan in his sleep, but it didn't sound like the nightmares he usually had. I wonder what's wrong with him? Maybe something happened over vacation – but what could affect him for this long? Maybe he came across something in his research that's got him acting weird? He always acts strange when he's trying to keep a secret.
Edward closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. Maybe he could get a little sleep. He could use some rest. Recently, his nights had all been disturbed by dreams he really didn't want to be having. Of course, the only thing worse than having those dreams, he thought, was having those dreams on the train where anyone would see him, and Al said he moaned sometimes, but his younger brother seemed to think it was just nightmares. For that, he was beyond grateful. He opened his eyes, deciding it was best to just stay awake, but with nothing to occupy his time, he found himself slowly dropping off to sleep, anyways. The rhythm of the train was soothing, carrying him away from his troubles, lulling him into a peaceful slumber…
Hot, sensual lips pressed against his own, chaste at first, but not for long. A slick, invading tongue slid into his mouth. He tasted smoke and whiskey and warm spices in an erotic blend that made him groan for more. Strong, calloused hands slid up his shirt, rubbing up and down his body, causing him to arch with need. He gasped as his mouth was freed, sucking in a lungful of fresh air and flinging his head back with pleasure as his lover's mouth attacked his throat, neck and shoulders. The next thing he knew, his shirt was off and his bare chest was rubbing against white silk.
"Edward," a low, sultry voice purred in his ear as those large, warm fingers began to knead and massage his back and waist. He threaded his fingers through soft, ebony hair, marveling at how silky-smooth it was all slicked back the way it was. "Edward." His only reply was a strangled moan. "Let me show you how adults do it. Do you want that?" He nodded vigorously through the haze of lust as his lover dropped his hips to rub their erections together. "Feel how fast my heart is beating, Ed. Feel how fast your heart is beating, too. In perfect time. This is meant to be." Oh, how Edward loved being romanced by those sweet – if suggestive – words whispered in that low, seductive tone. His arms wrapped around the other's broad shoulders, fingers clinging desperately to his silk shirt. "Ed…Ed…"
"Ed!" Al awoke him by shaking him hard. His eyes snapped open. "You were moaning. Another nightmare?" Al didn't mention that it didn't sound like a nightmare. The truth was, he didn't know what it sounded like, but he figured if his brother said it was a nightmare, there was no reason to pry further.
"Y-yeah…" Ed stammered, blushing profusely and looking away. "Thanks for waking me up." He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed, but no one was giving him any strange looks, so he supposed his secret was still intact. He let out a sigh of relief and sat up straight to avoid falling asleep, again.
Mustang sat at his desk, staring at the mountain of unfinished paperwork heaped before him. He checked his watch. Edward should be gone by now. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips. At least for a while he wouldn't have to worry about Edward finding out his secret. The boy had been acting weird ever since he'd gotten back from vacation, causing Mustang to second-guess that he'd actually not said or done anything weird while drunk, at the party, but he said nothing happened, so the colonel had little choice but to believe him. After all, he couldn't go up to him and ask, "Did I confess my love to you while I was drunk?"
"Sir, are you alright?" Hawkeye asked. He looked up at her, surprised by her gentle tone. Usually she was the real disciplinarian in the office.
"Hm? Y-yeah. Why?"
"You've been sighing all day…all week, actually. Is something the matter?"
"No, it's nothing."
"In that case," he heard the telltale click of a gun cocking. "GET BACK TO WORK!" He groaned and set to filling out paperwork. He hated paperwork. More than anything. He abhorred it with a passion. But it was part of the job, and someone had to do it. I should've told Ed to call every once in a while when he's gone, he thought. That way I could make sure he was okay. After all, he is being sent into a pretty dangerous mission. Then, he frowned, kicking that idea out of his head. Part of the reason he'd given the boy the mission was to get some distance from him. They both needed a break from each other, just to regain their footing. You've been hiding it this long, Roy, he told himself. There's nothing about it different, now. He flushed slightly. Except recently Ed's been acting so shy and vulnerable…so tempting to just jump his bones. He forced a scowl and dragged his mind back to the paperwork.
Hawkeye glanced back over at her colonel, now working diligently on the papers piled on his desk, and frowned. He'd been acting strangely recently. Usually, she knew exactly what was wrong with him, but right now, she had no idea what was bothering him. And no matter how she approached it, she couldn't get him to tell her. She didn't like that. She was used to being his sole confidant. She knew everything about him, and he knew everything about her – and that was the way it was supposed to be. She'd deduced that it had something to do with the night of the Fuhrer's New Year's party, but she couldn't imagine what. Maybe he did something embarrassing when he was drunk? she thought, but from the few instances she could recall of Mustang getting drunk, he was usually the quiet, sullen type of drunk, just sitting in a corner and saying nothing.
She sighed and shook her head. If it was important, Mustang would tell her, right? Just because he usually kept her informed about every, little thing didn't mean he was obligated to keep it that way. She was his lieutenant, not his best friend. It was really none of her business what went on in his personal life. The mere idea of that though stung her, though. She liked to think she was privy to Mustang's personal life – she knew he would've been if she had a personal life. Well, until recently, she hadn't been aware he had a personal life, either, outside a few one-night-stands on Friday nights. Maybe he just needs to relieve some stress. Should I suggest he take off early tonight and get himself some nice woman to take to bed? She mused, trying to fight off the idea that she could be that woman. No. I cannot be that woman – I can never be that woman, she reminded herself sternly. I'm his subordinate – it would interfere with our work, endanger his career, his goals, everything.
She had always admired Mustang, always felt for him perhaps something deeper than their relationship had ever afforded. She could remember countless hours, watching him and her father practicing alchemy. She remembered first feeling the uncomfortable warmth swell up in the pit of her stomach when she saw him, shirtless, in the courtyard on a hot, summer day. She'd been thirteen, then. She remembered quickly learning to squelch those feelings so she could stay by his side, when he joined the military. She remembered the tingly feeling that ran down her spine as she bared her back to him over and over so he could analyze her father's work, the little shocks of electricity when he would absently trace part of the scarlet tattoo there. She remembered how much it was like that same feeling when she allowed him to sear the tattoo off her back, abolishing the technique her father had developed.
"Colonel," she called softly. "Why don't you take a half day today?" He looked up at her and she realized – partially disappointed – that she'd train out the fluttery reaction in the stomach she used to get form his gaze.
"Why would I do that?" he asked.
"You look stressed. I was thinking you could find a nice partner to relax you," she replied, completely unashamed. His eyes narrowed slightly at her, then he shrugged.
"Maybe this weekend. I've got enough work to do, right now." She nodded and turned her attention back to her own work. She wasn't about to push him to have sex. Mustang frowned at her and then shook his head. Man, I must really be acting differently if she'd go so far as to offer me a half day to go "relieve" some stress, he thought. Then again, maybe that's just what I need. I mean, Hell, just because I like Edward doesn't mean I can't have sex with someone else. Sex has never been about love, for me. He shook his head, a wry smile tugging on his lips. I can't believe I'm actually dwelling on this kind of thing. It's always been a spur-of-the-moment whim, not a calculated decision. He glanced up and noticed Hawkeye watching him out of the corner of her eye. Exhaling forcefully, he determined to get himself together before she really got on his case. Edward was gone – he could worry about him later.
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New Year's Resolutions