Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

The Stepping Stone	By : Chikara Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > General Views: 4001 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
Chapter 3: Times are Changing

It took Lt. Colonel Roy Mustang exactly fourty-seven minutes to completely loose his mind.

He spent the first stretch of twenty minutes pacing around the room, rubbing the back of his neck, throwing his hands up in the air, muttering, and, most importantly, ignoring Fury's pained calls from outside his office door that there was an important event going on just down the street and, for God's sake, wouldn't it be more than appreciated if he could haul his uniformed ass out the door and attend? His mind worked in neverending sentences and long, angry whispers that seemed to start at the base of his spine and spread to his chest like an ink stain. He thought about the way he had jumped to anger and envy - how he ripped up that stupid, childlike note into shreds and stuffed it in the garbage, how Ed had backtracked and laughed. He thought about the way he had gotten so close to Ed and how, in most situations, he'd be turned on beyond belief just at the mention of the younger Elric beneath him - and oh, god, wasn't that so funny that he didn't feel the slightest hint of sexual passion - and that was so damn guilty too, but why should he be guilty, because, because, because because it's all his fault coming strutting over here to stir me up and think I'll fall for it, I'm stronger than that, than being hoodwinked by a some spoilt rat.

...but what a unbelievably sexy rat he was.

Knock knock knock on the wood oak door and the tapping of boots against the carpet, he could almost imagine Fury shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his thumb, knocking and knocking and knocking.

( come out, come out, where-ever you aaaare )

What does he expect me to do? Roy mused furiously, take his damn suggestion and lose Edward?

And then that thought pressed on; the longer you stay here, the more he's drifting away.

Roy squirmed and flushed and taunted and paced, but there was nothing he could do to block out that thought, and the realization that he'd have to grovel at that damn kid's feat and

( admit I was wrong )

feed him a bunch of sappy lines until he was smiling and welcoming him back inside his house, his heart, his body.

No no no no, he had too much pride to stoop to that kind of low, that was taking such a heavy blow, he had a repu -

"COLONEL!"

Roy threw himself against the wall by sheer instinct as the mind-numbing echo of a bullet being fired crawled into his brain and nestled into the only sensitive place that feared Elizabeth Hawkeye. What happened next was so sudden and effortless that Roy himself had trouble understanding - Fury was in the room, there was a bullet jammed in the steel of the door hinges, Liza was standing over him with her hands on her hips, shouting thing she couldn't quite hear, because goddamnit, woman, my head's not working right now.

And then something burst into his mind and he knew what he had to do. He pushed past an irritated Liza Hawkeye and past a stunned Fury into the hallway which, it seemed, was now full of onlookers who were clearly anxious to see what had caused Hawkeye to go off the hook this time. He shoved past them, ignoring their complaints and rude shouting that for God's sake, havn't you ever learned any manners, and then he was in the parking lot and he didn't hear Liza chasing after him, and that was good, because that gave him time.

Fishing his car keys out of his breast pocket, Roy Mustang carefully started up his somewhat outdated vehicle and slipped inside, leaning back against that oh-so-comfortable seat, brushing aside discarded trash that he had left childishly on the floor (probably during a drinking spree, but how was he to live without those?) and sprinted up the steps, two at a time, tripping over his own feet and fumbling with the doorbell, come on, come on...

And then Edward was at the door and his face was so pale and eyes so wide like little lemon drops - he had never realized how beautiful the boy was until the time came that he really wanted him, and then the teen's lips parted in a silent oh of surprise and Roy tackled him.

Edward's small frame crashed into the dresser behind him and Roy pinned his hands down on either side of his face, helpless, but it was good, it was good for the both of them, and he could see how perfectly his liquid golden eyes widened and then fell; first dazed and half-lidded to finally closed, a hard flush staining his cheeks.

It only started out as a kiss, then as a war, then as a fit of biting and sucking and flailing limbs until Roy could feel tiny hands on his back, clawing at his skin frantically, half of him begging for mercy, the other half screaming yes for God's sake, but not here - and had they ever tried wall sex before? Roy felt a sudden fit of giggles tear at his stomach but bit them down with great difficulty. Then there was an awkward pause from the boy beneath him and Roy felt a surge of need take him. It was as if he and Ed had been seperated for years and years and now they were finally together again - oh yes, Roy had him all to himself, and as soon as he got him off of this dresser he was going to throw him on the carpet and fuck him raw.

And then they broke apart awkwardly, and just as Roy was musing over the best way to carry out his plans, Edward leaned forward and hid his face in the fabric of Roy's uniform. And, without even thinking of the results, Roy wrapped his arms around the blonde's slender body and whispered "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

.

� � �

.

There was something about the way their breath seemed to hang over them like a heavy fog that made Roy so stunned and so damn glad that he had made peace with Edward before it had gotten too serious. Looking at him now - slender frame, tan complexion, lemon-drop eyes and silkly hair...but boys weren't ment to have hair like that. It was so ironic that it was almost laughable: he was just as pretty as any girl, and here he was, naked and sprawled across his bed, panting and rubbing his ass sourly.

"You didn't have to go so hard." he said bitterly to Roy.

"I thought you liked it that way?"

"With a warning, yes." he said. The Colonel couldn't help but smile - to him it seemed to be only a reason to complain and nothing more, but even so...it was, momentary pain put aside, some of the best sex they had ever shared. And once more, it was their first time at Edward's apartment.

Said blonde rose slowly from the bed, rubbing the small of his back with his fist and wondering off into the kitchen. Roy saw him pour out a tall class of diet soda and douse it in one hearty gulp before turning to fix his hair in the mirror. He felt a funny temptation to ask him to leave it down - he liked the older Elric wild, but he knew it was useless. Ed had never listened to him before.

"Get any more mail?" he asked finally.

"Yeah, actully." Ed muttered, sticking a red hair tie between his teeth in order to leave his hands free for some expert braiding. "Another poem. It's better this time, believe it or not."

Roy felt his heart sink, and, overcoming that, a surge of guilt swept over him as well as some inevitable self-loathing toward the both of them. He knew he shouldn't really be so spiteful when it came to this...but since when was Ed admired? After all, the boy wasn't even legal.

( though that didn't stop you from screwing him )

Roy brushed off the thought as best he could before pressing onward; "Can I see it?"

Ed reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small slip of paper. He glanced at it twice before wrinking his nose in what Roy couldn't quite see as disgust - it was almost like a smug smile or a sickened breath, but from this distance, he forced himself not to jump to conclusions - before tossing it tactfully to the Colonel.

Roy unfolded it with shaking fingertips.

Ed's name was scrawled at the top of the paper in loose capitals. Under it was another handwritten poem:

Through long nights

I'm waiting

And someday

I'll come

I'll find you

Still the same

Because they say

Times are changing

But I don't think

We ever will

The Colonel felt his insides squirm. Determined, he whispered in a calm voice that seemed to contrast deeply with his mind; "Is this a different person?"

"No, it's the same writing. Look..."

He handed Roy a scrap of torn paper, consiting only of the words "are blue". The rest was had been torn off by Roy Mustang himself. Feeling a surge of guilt and anger overtake him, he bit back a strong temptation so scream that he said he was sorry, he might as well have begged, so why bring that up again? But then he simply resorted to comforting himself that it was only a note, that the paper was only in his hands so he could compare it to the new letter, and he carefully edged them together.

"...yep, looks the same. Some people came mimic writing very well, though - "

"Yeah, as if." Edward scoffed. "What are the chances that I have two lovesick bastards swooning over me with the same handwriting?"

Another surge of uncomfortable envy.

"There arn't any." he said. "But just...this poem seems so much different than the last one. Like whoever wrote it went to sleep one day and woke up ten years older."

"Well, maybe that's his trick." Ed insisted, "To start small and grow. He'll be tredding on stepping stones until he gets right where he wants and v�a-la! - I'm won. Or at least, that's what he's hoping." Edward added with a smug grin.

Roy shifted nervously in his chair.

"That adds up, I guess." he muttered. "So, are you going to leave a note on your door saying you don't want anymore damn notes or just let 'em come?"

"Take them." Edward said, shrugging.

"Why?"

"To get some free chocolates out of this, just like you." he said sleekly. "Isn't that why you put up with secret admirers?"

Roy couldn't help but gawk. Edward was a child, a fifteen year old minor- an illigal fuck, to be blunt, and just the kind of person that would grow angry over chocolate. Of course, Edward had a big mouth. A big mouth that never shut up and a big mouth that never stopped eating.

Chocolate? Hardly.

Really, Roy didn't know how the boy managed to keep such a slender body. Metabolism only goes so far.
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Stepping Stone