Better Living Through Alchemy

R.D. went into the bedroom, the house was quiet and the smells were few. He pranced at the side of the bed and ran to the foot where a trunk sat, butted up against the footboard. He hopped up onto it and rose up on his hind legs, resting his front paws on the top of the footboard. He gathered himself and cleared it, landing on the end of the bed, his slight weight made no real impression on the mattress.

The occupant of the bed was lying face down and made no acknowledgement of his presence. He smelled strange and subdued as R.D. edged up slowly near his knee, but not too close. He laid out on his tummy with ears up, but flopped over at the tops, waiting for the voice that grumbled to speak to him. He tilted his head back and forth, but no voice raised or lowered in pitch was offered in his direction. He laid his head on his outstretched front legs and wagged his tail back and forth a few times, hoping to attract attention. When that didn’t work, he began to scoot, wigging back and forth up the comforter toward the top of the body lying on the bed.

He got parallel to the face and slowly, red-rimmed eyes opened and regarded him dully. He wagged his tail frantically and scooted forward again, then stretched out with his neck and the tip of his tongue briefly washed the end of a nose.

“So you still like me, huh?” a voice said, raw with grief and other untold things. “Shows what a worthless thing you really are.”

R.D. scooted closer since the voice wasn’t shrill; it sounded weighed down and tired. This time, the tongue touched a chin and was rewarded with the warmth and weight of a hand settling on his small, furred back. It rubbed him once or twice and then stilled.

“Stupid dog,” his blonde snack-giver said. “Nuisance,” he whispered and swallowed, his hand beginning to rub again.

R.D. laid his head back down on his outstretched front legs. He’d better watch this one until the other one got home.

***

The silence of the drive extended into the station where they both knew good and well there would be no train leaving at this hour. He stood back as Alphonse checked anyway and bought a ticket for the following morning. As the money changed hands, Roy’s hopes of getting Alphonse to go back with him and speak with his brother dwindled.

Alphonse made his way back over to Roy slowly, ticket clutched in his fingers and suitcase hitting the side of his knee. He seemed lost in that moment, swimming in whatever it was lying behind his eyes. He turned to look at an empty bench against the station wall and then started toward it when Roy’s hand closed around his arm.

“You don’t think I’m going to leave you here all night on a bench,” Roy said quietly, “that I refuse to do.”

“Not going back,” Alphonse said hoarsely, “so what do you suggest.”

Roy released his arm and took his shoulders, steering him back out into the cold night air. They stood on the outer bricks of the station for a moment and then Roy moved them forward, across the street and into a hotel standing there. Alphonse stood quietly by his side as Roy secured a room and key, taking the boy’s shoulders again and leading him to it, unlocking it and reaching in to turn on the light so Alphonse didn’t have to go into another new situation in darkness.

Alphonse dropped the suitcase and moved to sit on the side of the bed. He laced his fingers, hands hanging between his knees; he didn’t raise his eyes to Roy’s face.

Roy stood for a moment, then moved forward slowly and put his hand on the top of that dark blonde head and rubbed. Alphonse made a ragged sound, but didn’t move to stop him.

“I know, Alphonse,” he said quietly, “I know it hurts. I want you to think about this long and hard before you get on the train in the morning. Edward is your only family, shutting him out is like shutting part of yourself out.” Alphonse jerked his head from beneath the touch then and Roy knew any attempt to try and coax the boy back to talk to his brother was the offense of ‘taking Edward’s side’ now. He sighed and stuck his hand back in his coat pocket.

“Will you call me at least, when you get to East City?” Roy said, “To let me know you made it back alright?”

“Yes,” Alphonse said lowly. “You know I will, what is between he and I isn’t between you and I, Pirate,” he offered.

“That’s not true, but we’ll leave it for now,” Roy said. “Alphonse, I’d like to stay, but you know that I can’t.”

Alphonse gave a curt nod and stood, shrugging out of his coat.

“I know that,” he said trying hard not to sound bitter, “I understand your relationship with him is different than mine. It’s okay, I’m fine, you better go back.”

Helplessness is a hateful thing in the mind of a General. He so wanted to knock heads together and it didn’t really matter who’s at this point. They were determined in their beautiful and tragic way to tear him to pieces, because truly he was in a moment that he didn’t know which way to turn. Alphonse sat on the bed again and toed off his shoes; he stopped and looked at Roy.

“Call me,” the General said, “it takes about forty-five minutes to get home from the city,” he continued, “so when I leave, if you want to call me, (to come and get you, to bring you back home so we can fix this, to let me help), you need to wait that long at least.”

“I’ll call you from East City,” Alphonse said dully, “so don’t expect to hear from me for a couple of days.”

Roy turned for the door and left, not trusting himself with any more words. It may seem arrogant on his part, (and it’s not like he hadn’t been accused of it before), but it wouldn’t do for Alphonse to hear him beg.

For Alphonse, he would sympathize and glower and threaten.

It was for Edward that he would beg.

***

He was welcomed home despite it, and watched the little terrier trot toward the bedroom and back to him several times. The General turned off the lights in the living room and den as he made his way through the quiet house. He stood in the doorway looking at the silhouette on the bed, watched R.D.’s trick of using the trunk to hop up onto the high bed. The puppy then paced on the bed, between Ed’s prone form and the edge, looking toward Roy.

Roy moved into the room, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did so, going to the dresser for his pajamas. When he was ready, he went for Ed’s pajamas, carrying them to the bed, laying them at the foot of it. He ran his hand up Ed’s back, hooked his hand over Ed’s shoulder and rolled him back onto his side. He slid his other hand beneath Ed’s other shoulder and sat him up.

He put his hand behind Ed’s head, pulling his forehead against his chest as he undid the tie holding his ponytail, then he sat his lover back up. He was not surprised at the behavior, the total listlessness, the silence and non-resistance. It was how Ed coped in matters of the heart and Roy had unfortunately seen it before. He’d often held a silent and unresponsive fifteen year old against his chest, struggling for the right way to provoke him into life.

He tried to think back to what he did those times as he bunched his hands in the bottom of Ed’s sweater and drew it up. Ed did react enough to lift his arms, but the General had to stop half way through and gently work the sweater loose when it snagged on an automail arm. After that, it went fairly quickly and he shooed R.D. to the end of the bed, tugging the covers down and laying Edward back down on his pillow. He rounded to his side of the bed and got in, shut off the bedside light and lay back in the dark and silence as R.D. turned a few circles at the foot of the bed and settled down.

Roy knew sleep would have to be coaxed to him and settled with resignation. Ed moved, violently and suddenly, turning on his side toward Roy and Roy reacted instinctively, almost curling up, startled. Edward’s flesh arm came down across his chest and his head ground into his shoulder and Roy forced himself to be still and to wait, without words.

“Make that sound,” Edward whispered hoarse and harsh.

Sound? Oh yes, that noise. That rumbling Roy could never help whenever sad, gold eyes where on him, when words were only salt on open wounds, no matter how gentle or how softly they were delivered. He took a deep breath and found he had no difficulty in remembering or releasing it. Edward’s fingers dug into his chest, painfully over the bruise they’d left there earlier, but Edward could have that; he could have whatever he wanted. Edward drew painful breaths and kept moving and shifting, his pain was mobile and seeking. It was becoming too much for Roy as well and he rolled to face Edward, circling him in his arms, pulling him hard against his body. He held on tight as the form against him writhed in torment of his emotion’s own making. Roy moved his hand up, fisted it in blonde hair and pressed Edward’s forehead to the base of his throat. Edward thrust his automail leg between Roy’s and hooked it there, his flesh hand moved under Roy’s arm, up his back and hooked over his shoulder.

It’s all right Edward, give in and let it out before you drown.

Roy endured the attempts to have his flesh molded with his lover’s and finally, in their honest and raw fashion, the sobs came. They continued for a while, the small body shaking with each exclamation of sorrow wrung from it and half formed words hung like a low miasma just above the bed. Roy’s pajama top and bare neck were bathed in grief and Roy clutched tighter, knowing it was probably painful but cravingly welcomed. When only hollow gasps and heavy breathing kept company between them, the General spoke.

“You need to get some sleep, Ed,” he said, forcing reason over comfort. “You have class in the morning.”

“Why did you take him away,” barely audible and choked, “you should have made him stay. I hate you,” the General was informed.

“You hate me all the time,” the General informed him, tone still seeking calm in the sea of emotion that Edward wanted to drown him in, “but he can’t afford to. Go to sleep, Ed.”

It wasn’t until sometime later that the grip in his pajama top slackened, but not enough to lose its clinging hold. The General closed his eye at last and tried to follow his lover under.

***

Edward was already up and out of bed when the alarm clock went off on Roy’s side of the bed. Roy fumbled with it, shutting it off and lying for a moment or two. He tried vainly to somehow will his lost sleep to catch up with him before he got out of bed, but it was not to be. He sat up and threw the covers back, swinging his feet off the side of the bed and stepping down into his house shoes.

He saw the light under the bathroom door and headed for it, pausing to listen before putting his hand against it and pressing. It hadn’t been shut all the way and swung back with a slight creak.

Edward was standing at the vanity, hands balled into fists on its surface and his head down, leaning over the wash basin. He could no longer hide in his bangs, but his loose hair was trailing over his shoulders and down his back. Roy moved to his side silently, got down the shaving mug and powder, leaned around Ed for a moment to turn on the tap and then worked the powder into lather with the brush in the mug.

He reached over and gently took Ed’s chin, raised his face and turned it toward him, using the brush to lather up Ed’s chin, lower cheeks and upper lip. Ed didn’t resist him, didn’t raise his eyes to Roy’s, or try to pull his chin away. Roy released him and applied his own shaving foam, then opened the vanity drawer and took out both of their razors. It was another new thing Edward had come home with, this need to shave. Before, he’d always watched Roy perform the ritual, studying him thoughtfully and closely while he stroked the razor over his face. Edward had done it a time or two himself, before he really needed to do it, just to see what it felt like. Just to have a gleaming of the adult male world.

Edward picked up the razor from the counter and looked at himself in the mirror while thumbing the head of it back and forth with an automail thumb before he raised it and slowly started to shave. Roy watched him as he did tilted his head back and did his under chin first, then he moved to his cheeks and upper chin. With the pad of his thumb on his nose, he tilted his head back again and did his upper lip. That is where he ceased to use Roy’s teachings, for Roy had never shaved his upper lip like that.

Who had taught Ed to shave like that? Roy felt in that moment what Alphonse must feel a hundred fold. Why wouldn’t Ed tell him?

He shouldn’t ponder over it, so he set to shaving his own face as Ed brushed his teeth. He waited for Ed to finish and move to the end of the vanity to brush his hair before he brushed his own teeth. After, he got down his hair tonic, wet his hands with it and ran them over his own head, combing it out and fingering the bangs as he’d done for as long as he could remember. Edward was tying off his ponytail as he finished up, and then brushed by him on his way out of the bathroom.

Roy stopped him, wiped his hands clear of tonic, wet them again with cologne and slapped Edward’s cheeks. This was how they usually exited the bathroom, followed by a kiss. Roy waited and Edward leaned forward then, up on his toes, and pressed his lips to Roy’s. Roy put his arms around him, pulling him against his chest. Their routine didn’t usually go this way, but it was a special circumstance. Roy rumbled and Edward sighed as Roy leaned against the vanity and just held him for a few moments longer.

They went as one back into the bedroom proper. Roy went to the closet, removed his dress shirt and uniform, and laid them on the bed. Then he went back for Edward’s dress shirt, vest and pants, laying them on the bed as well. Edward put out clean linens and socks for them both and they pulled out of their sleepwear and into their working wear.

***

Roy helped Edward with his suit jacket and then in the hall he helped him with his winter coat. He’d taken care of R.D. beforehand and the little dog was dancing at their feet, whining softly. R.D. was smart and knew the routine, but it didn’t mean he liked to be alone all day.

Roy went first to warm up the car while Ed checked to make sure he had everything in his briefcase. He kept R.D. back with his foot as he exited the house and locked the door. He then hurried down the walk to the waiting automobile and climbed in.

***

Edward looked up at the unscheduled stop and then over at Roy as he parked.

“It won’t take a moment and this way I’ll know you at least ate something today,” the General said before getting out of the car heading into the small bakery at the edge of town that they sometimes went to on Sunday mornings for hot rolls and coffee. The General returned and handed over a small paper cup that was warm in Ed’s flesh hand and fished out of the paper bag a berry-stuffed muffin. He pulled the paper wrapper off the bottom and broke the muffin in half before setting it in a napkin and putting it in Ed’s lap.

“What is this?” Ed said softly, “Why are you treating me like I’m three?”

Roy just overlooked the remark and cranked the car, putting it into gear and navigating them back out onto the road. He said nothing at all, merely pointing them in the direction of the city and pressing the pedal with his foot.

By the time they pulled into the headquarters complex, the napkin held only crumbs and the paper cup was empty.

***

This isn’t fair to my boys. I cannot do this to them. Ed stood in the doorway of the classroom. He was early, no students had arrived yet; the halls were quiet and empty.

He looked at the empty desks, the smooth, gray walls and his own desk at the front of the class framed by a large blackboard bolted to the walls. It was like a big box, why had he not noticed before? He had to do something with it. How could he be expected to stimulate his students if they sat in this plain, gray box day in and day out?

He couldn’t take it today, being inside this thing. He put his hand on the doorjamb as if to prevent himself from entering the room, even though he knew he must. The room’s only good feature was across the far wall: six large rectangular windows that opened out to the back of the school and soccer field. The back parking lot could also be seen; that expanse of concrete that not many a car ever sat upon. When someone did park back there, he’d find the some of the boys at the window, speculating on car make and ownership.

His own eyes strayed to the lot and the greenery around it.

I don’t need you either!

He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, he couldn’t think about it. He wasn’t allowed to think about it until he got in the car to go home that evening. He’d promised Roy, he’d promised himself and he was now promising the boys.

He took a breath, walked in to his desk and stood beside it. He suddenly opened the top drawer and fished out his supply cabinet key, walked to the cabinet, opened it, took out a box of chalk and pocketed it before closing and locking the cabinet again.

He heard a noise and looked back to see one of the boys coming in and heading for his desk near the back of the room. It was Thomas Pine, called Tom, and he was always in first because his father worked for the Academy maintenance department. The man had introduced himself in the hall, snatching off his cap and shaking Ed’s hand like he was meeting the prime minister. He told Ed how much Tom liked his class, how much he was learning and how proud he was of his son. Tom could be an alchemist and maybe work for the state, not be a glorified janitor like his old man.

That was the day Ed really understood what the job was going to mean to him.

“Morning Tom,” he said and raised his hand to the boy.

“Morning Professor,” the boy smiled and raised his hand back.

He would give Tom the chance to be an alchemist. He had made mistakes at an early age; here he could try to make sure something like that never happened to any child again.

***

Everyone was told to keep their coats on. They formed a line and followed the Professor down the hall, out the door and around to the back lot; there were no cars parked there today. The Professor made them stand side by side along the back part of the lot. He took a box of chalk out of his pocket and marched down the line handing it out. Near the end he started to run out, so some of them had to break their chalk in half. Then he returned to stand in front of them, hands on hips. He knelt down on the ground and sat on his knees, making a motion with his hand for them to do the same, and they all sank to their knees in the cold on the hard concrete of the parking lot.

“Today,” the Professor said, resting his hands on his knees and holding his own piece of chalk, “we’re going to draw an array and transmute a toy horse.”

The boys all bounced excitedly and some chatter started up, but the Professor raised an eyebrow and it died down.

“I want you to imagine a toy horse in your mind,” the Professor said, “how its head looks and how its neck is attached to its body. What it’s made of, if it has hinged joints. What color is it? How big is it? What does it feel like when you hold it in your hands?”

The Professor raised his hand and pointed to his eyes and then closed them. Soon the entirety of the class was also in darkness as they all strained to see the details of a toy horse.

“Alright now, got the image and how it’s put together?” the Professor asked.

There were a few tentative nods, but most were firm and eager nods. Fingers twitched and sticks of chalk were rolled restlessly between them.

“Open your eyes,” the Professor told them and they did, blinking to focus, then focusing them on the Professor.

The Professor held up his stick of chalk and the boys did the same. That earned them a slight smile, something they hadn’t seen all morning from the man, which made them relax a bit more.

“Okay, I want you to draw a circle. Its circumference should be about the width of a dinner plate,” Edward knew speaking in exact measurements would be lost on them, yet he knew visuals would be the best way to teach them. He made his own outer circle with well-practiced ease and then waited a moment.

“Now, using your thumb,” he held up his own, “measure in about the length of it and draw an inner circle.” He demonstrated, laying the base of his thumb on the outer circle and then pressing it flat on the concrete, making a chalk mark and drawing the inner circle as easily as the outer. He didn’t need the thumb measure, but once again, the boys would need reference.

He walked them through the rest of it, the large center triangle, the three smaller triangles, the small, thin triangle between the circle rings and the upper tip of the large triangle. It was an array brilliantly perfected. For the beginner, its simple lines were easy to conduct energy through and for the advanced, it was a powerful tool capable of blinding precision. His little brother’s array… how many times had he seen it drawn on paper, in chalk, scratched into dust and dirt and desperation? He wasn’t aware of how long he sat there on his knees, transfixed by his brother’s genius. There was an uncomfortable clearing of throat and he glanced up, puzzled for a moment at this neat line of uniformed boys, sitting on their knees.

I can’t do this to them, I promised! Even though they don’t know it!

“Sorry,” the Professor said. He rose to his feet, indicating for them to do the same. He walked toward them now, passing between Boyd and Gavin to the lawn just beyond the curb of the lot. He clapped his hands and knelt, slapping them to the ground. The ground shuddered and erupted in a small upheaval, making a mound of fresh dirt. The Professor stood again and dusted off his gloved hands.

“Everyone get a double handful of dirt and place it in the middle of your array,” he told them, scooping up the first double handful and walking back to his array. He waited until they had all complied, then he started at the end of the line, walking slowly, head down, studying each array he passed. Only twice did he bend down to smudge out a line with his fingers and make quick chalk strokes to correct the array, showing each boy where the flaw was and how to correct it.

With that done, he returned to his own array and knelt. The boys followed suit, all eyes riveted on him, all breaths held.

But then the Professor sat back on his butt and he crossed his legs Indian style, watching them. Slowly, one by one, the boys followed suit. They were young enough to be comfortable anywhere, even on the cold concrete of a parking lot behind the academy.

“Tell me why you want to be an alchemist,” the Professor said, “I really want to know.”

Several heads turn to their neighbor; there was general fidgeting and changing of positions. Then a hand shot into the air and Edward smiled at the class motivator as he nodded toward Seth. The boy reached up to reflexively straighten his glasses, his method of gathering the courage to speak. “I want to be an alchemist because alchemists are important people who can do important things.”

Many others followed, Edward nodding at each hand raised. Because it was ‘cool’, (he surmised that everything important was cool when you where thirteen, why hadn’t he known that? Oh wait, Roy had been grudgingly cool then), because it was power, for their father, mother, or other family member; to make things easier, to build buildings, to be a state alchemist and an officer.

To help people.

The Professor pointed at Tom Pine after he said it. “That is why I did it, too.”

To help my mother (but it was no help, it was only pain), and to help my brother, (whose pain was my fault to begin with)

But inadvertently along the way, because he could clap his hands and make things happen, he helped others, too. It wasn’t his original intent, but it was appreciated all the same. He was never quite sure what to make of his popularity at first, because it all came so easily to him that it almost felt like a cheat. Later of course, he learned to use it as he learned to use all things. It was never a hindrance once he’d mastered fame.

Many of the boys were looking at Tom now, who looked self-conscious and huddled in on himself a bit. He remembered another young boy, younger than Tom, huddled with his fists on his knees and his eyes uncertain on his elder brother, with an array to bring back happiness.

But emotions are not arrays, because arrays are science.

I will tell him, if he will let me. I will tell him everything.

Science is not emotion, because emotions are not logical, but logic was not in Alphonse’s eyes last night. There was only pain that he, his elder brother, had once again delivered.

I am a fool.

Roy was right; Alphonse’s void was not absolution. Alphonse’s forgiveness was. He could not forgive Edward unless he remembered Edward.

“How do you make drawing a circle like that look so easy,” one of the brave fellows in the line up before the silent Professor with the drawn face finally asked.

He shook himself free. He could fix this. He could make it all right again with his brother.

“Because I’ve drawn a million of the damn things,” the Professor drawled, whatever haunting his face those few moments earlier, fleeing. “I could draw them in my sleep. I’ve drawn them, sight unseen, upside down with my hands tied behind my back.”

“No way,” Richard Timbers challenged.

The Professor put his hands behind his back and leaned back enough so the chalk could touch the concrete behind him. He started to draw, and stopped a moment, turning the array upside down in his mind.

Damn I’m out of practice, they will rib me to death if I don’t do this right!

Twenty-three pairs of eyes watched for any sign of weakness, especially Daniel’s eyes. That boy was a pride and a thorn in one, but he felt fairly certain what he drew would work if activated. He spread his arms and grinned in triumph as Richard jumped up and ran over to look behind his back. He gave a low whistle.

“Professor,” he said, “you rule.”

“Rule what?” the Professor asked.

***

Listen to ME

Alphonse shut his eyes tight, the sway of the train jarring him against the passenger car wall.

Pretending you don’t hear me isn’t going to work, Al snarled, Running away isn’t either! How can you leave him like that? How could you say those things! You need him as much as I ever did! You need him MORE! I really wish now that brother had gotten a better bargain on his six years! I’m ashamed to be your possible psychiatric hospital commitment now!

You heard him, too! He doesn’t want to share anything with us! Why are you defending him, Alphonse cried, He’s denying you too!

No he’s not, he’s protecting you! Maybe he’s a little ashamed and afraid to tell you what happened, it’s not exactly pretty, you know, Al said exasperated. I could show you if you would quit blocking me. You know, I think I’m starting to figure you out. It’s taken awhile because we are too much alike, but I have some observations on you, the armor said.

Oh do tell, Alphonse sneered, it’s not like I can stop you now, is it?

I’m starting to work out that somehow in this last six years, we’ve turned into a fact gathering, logical stagnation. Al said. Alphonse gasped and then shut his mouth quickly.

We are too busy looking for the reason for the circumstance to see the circumstance itself. We have managed, no wait, YOU have managed, to become clinical to the point of a negative sphincter factor in every way shape and form. Even your crush on Colonel Hawkeye is measured in absolutes, the armor put its hands on its hips. No wonder I had to wade though mountains of cranial monotony to ever get to the surface. It’s a wonder we can interact with society at all!

Alphonse just gaped at the empty seat across from him.

You are all about facts and nothing about commitment, Al said.

What are you talking about? Alphonse cried, scrabbling desperately for equilibrium, I am committed to everything!

It’s not brother who is the control freak, it’s YOU, Al snorted, You are organized to the point of anal supremacy. You categorize your sock drawer! I can’t believe we spent fifteen minutes comparing shades of black! You sort your mail as if it were high explosives waiting to go off at one wrong move! You line your pencils up and make sure they are all the same length! There is commitment and then there is the way you do it, Al windmilled his arms.

I’ve never met anyone who actually thought of an array to make freckles symmetrical, but YOU did! Our brother is hurting! You did that to him, not me! And you want to know why? Because you want all the facts and none of the burden! That’s right, you want the science and not the heart and that is just wrong, Al said. That is why you’ve pretended I don’t exist, that is why you have shut me off from showing you anything that matters, that is why you can do that to Brother when you know why he’s not telling you anything! He doesn’t have to tell you anything! Al cried.

Alphonse shut his eyes tight, slouching down hard in the seat.

You already know everything, but you’re scared! You’re scared, Al said, and I understand that. You didn’t have Brother at your side, you didn’t have brother there to try and make things right. You had you and the Colonel, but that’s not the same as having someone who shared everything with you, heart and soul. You missed out and I’m really sorry, really I am. You needed brother too, and you have the chance now, I don’t know why you won’t take it.

Alphonse felt the hot trail of wetness down his cheek and opened his eyes slowly to the armor that sat across from him on the bench, its hands on its knees, watching him intently.

“I’m jealous,” Alphonse said, “of myself.”

There is no reason to be, Al said. It hurts but we lived through it once already, we know what to expect.

“Will I ever have any say at all, ever again?” Alphonse asked.

We won’t be like this anymore, Al said, We’ll be singular, not plural.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Alphonse apologized, “I really didn’t, I do love him.”

I know, Al said. He was going about it all the wrong way as usual, don’t beat yourself up over it too much. He’s just like that, here to make our lives complex.

Alphonse had to smile despite himself.

“I want what you and he had,” Alphonse said.

The armor held out its hands.

***

She’d tried to politely ignore the young man muttering to himself at the back of the car. She sincerely thought it was really none of her business and that he must have a lot on his mind to be talking to himself like that, even to changing his pitch and his tone, almost as if he were trying to be two people.

All right, it was a little unnerving. At least there were a few other people in the car with them, so if he got up and started making trouble she wouldn’t have to deal with him alone. She had been trying to concentrate on the book in her lap when she glanced up at him again, this time because he had gone silent and she wondered if he’d finally gone to sleep, but instead he was staring at the empty seat in front of him. He suddenly raised his arms, hands out flat and palms down, he stretched them to the empty seat and lowered them, looking for all the world like he saw someone there he was giving his hands to.

Then he seemed to convulse. His head threw back to strike the seat behind him sharply and he abruptly slumped to the side, falling over on the seat and rolling to the floor. She jumped up and ran to get the conductor as the other passengers around her gaped.

***

“On your knees,” the Professor crowed, getting back onto his own. The boys all immediately copied him.

“Listen up,” he commanded, “don’t expect to get it on your first try. Hell, don’t even expect to transmute on your first try. Don’t worry if it looks wonky, don’t worry if it falls apart and don’t seize up in the middle of your transmutation and get a face full of dirt. I’ve done it before, no fun. Take a deep breath,” he told them.

The all took one and they all held it.

“Reach inside yourself, find that place in you that is the will to turn dirt into art,” he instructed. “Remember how your horse is constructed,” he reminded.

“When you put your hands on your circle you’re going to push your will into the array, you are going to make the array obey your command,” he said. “Don’t be coy, don’t be shy, show it who is the boss,” he grinned.

He held his hands straight up above his head and laughed when they all followed suit, some of them starting to turn a little blue.

“Breathe, it’s alchemy, not brain surgery,” he told them, not trying to stop the grin, “now…TRANSMUTE!” he slammed his hand down on the circle. The sound of flesh on stone sounded down the line before him. White and blue and green and purple and every color a boy could think of leapt from the multitude of small arrays. The air charged and crackled with ozone, the smell assaulted their nostrils and clung to their clothes. Static made frizzy mops of well-combed hair, cracks and pops mingled with excited shouts and cries.

Twenty-three young minds driven by one man, intent on making their dreams come true, carried on the back of a toy horse.

***


He rolled over and sighed, blinked his eyes open and squinted at the brightness. What time was it? When did the train get in? Why didn’t he remember getting home?

“Lieutenant Colonel?” a voice asked softly.

He turned his head, squinting and lifting his eyebrows in surprise. A young woman in uniform smiled at him.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

He knew her, Second Lieutenant Margaret Cape, she worked in the infirmary, but why was she here? Were they dating? Oh no… did he get lucky and not remember it? He blinked his eyes open further and took in the white walls and overhead lamps. No he was in the infirmary. Did he get lucky in the infirmary?

“Becky, call up to Colonel Hawkeye’s office, let her know he’s awake,” Lieutenant Cape said to someone across the room.

“Why am I here?” Al said groggily.

“You collapsed on the train, sir. They brought you in by car from the emergency stop the train made,” she said. “How is your head?”

“It’s fine,” Al mumbled, “I just feel a little drained is all.” He shifted up in the pillows and worked to push himself into a sitting position. Lieutenant Cape helped him sit up and then went to get him a glass of water. Al rubbed his face and looked around. Besides him, there was one other occupant of the infirmary, but they had a curtain around their bed, probably sleeping.

He wasn’t sure why he was here, but frankly he wasn’t too worried at the moment. He was in some sort of blissful suspension, some strange place that made him feel light and whole. He wasn’t one to mess with something that wasn’t broken. The door to the infirmary opened and the Colonel came in, trailed by First Lieutenant Pharr. Her face took on a look of relief to see him sitting up in the bed and that made him feel warm and happy. Pharr broke into a big grin and Al grinned back.

“Good to see you awake, Lieutenant Colonel,” the Colonel said, “you had us a bit worried.”

“What is with falling over on train benches and smacking your head on the floor,” Pharr teased gently. “You should get more sleep.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Al said, “the last I remember…” he trailed off.

Don’t go, please let me try to explain!

I don’t need you either!

I’d take all this pain from both of you if I could.

“I need to call brother,” Al said faintly.

“Alphonse?” the Colonel said, she always called him Alphonse when she was being other than his commanding officer. He raised his eyes to her. She was still so beautiful. When he would come into the office with brother, she was always the first person he sought out.

“I really need to call him,” Al said again, “he’ll be worried, and the… General, I need to speak to him, too.”

“Is everything alright? I distinctly remember your leave was for two weeks, yet here you are back before the first week is out,” the Colonel said.

“Everything is fine,” Al said. “I remember everything.”

***

They sat in a big huddle on the grass. Of the twenty-three attempts, twelve of the horses survived. Thirteen if you counted the Professor’s.

The Professor was critically surveying each horse. Their misshapen heads, their crooked legs and their questionable construction, he was also grinning ear to ear.

“You lot did amazingly well,” he said, looking at the assembled faces. “Even the horses that were half formed or crumbled right away, you still transmuted them. You ALL transmuted on your first try, that’s an accomplishment.”

The boys all shifted and grinned and ducked their heads, pleased that their professor was happy.

“Did you transmute on your very first try?” Seth asked, eager for knowledge for the archive.

“No,” the Professor said, “I got a face full of dirt,” and he grinned.

“Whose is best?” Bernard asked.

The Professor rubbed his chin, looked at the offerings and picked up one that could stand by itself and had a fairly normal head. He stood it in his palm and looked at the crowd.

“This one, who made it,” he asked.

Boyd Harding shyly raised his hand from the back of the group, cheeks flushed and small pleased smile.

“Boyd wins!” the Professor said and everyone cheered.

Edward was ecstatic, his jock could transmute.

***

The bell cut their revelry short and they all jumped up, rushing for the doors with the Professor in the lead. They pelted down the hall much to the startled stares of the other students leaving their classrooms to head for their next lesson.

The Professor got the door open, held it and directed the mad rush of boys in, watching them grab their packs and satchels and lunches.

“Read chapter fourteen,” he yelled to the mass of bodies all trying to get out the door at once, “and everyone gets a passing grade today,” he yelled after them as they rushed down the hall.

He watched until they blended in with the other students in the hall, then pulled back into the room, shut the door and put his hands on his hips. He surveyed his empty classroom for a moment or two and then threw his arms in the air.

“I can teach!” he yelled to no one in particular.

***

The Colonel was sitting beside his bed in a chair that Lieutenant Pharr had fetched for her. Pharr stood at the end of the bed, hands folded behind his back, smiling.

“I met you when I was eleven and twelve,” Al said. “But the first time I was eleven. Brother and I had stopped the man on the train who was going to hold General Hakuro hostage in a prisoner exchange,” Al screwed up his face, “I don’t remember his name at the moment, but he had an automail arm like brother.”

“His name was Bard,” the Colonel supplied.

“Right,” Al said grinning, “that was it. We met Falman and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes on that trip too,” Al smiled a little sadly. “I’m able to miss him now,” he said.

“We all miss him,” the Colonel said. “What about the second time you met me for the first time?” she prodded softly.

“That was after brother disappeared,” Al said, “and I’d finished my training with teacher.” Al gave another sad smile. “She passed away not long after I came back here.”

The Colonel nodded.

“The General was a Major General then, but he helped me with the entrance exam, he sponsored me,” Al said. He then smiled broadly. “He really took me in, I mean, he was always nice to me, but I thought it was because of brother. It was because of me, wasn’t it?”

“The General is very fond of you,” the Colonel said with her slight smile.

“I’m really fond of him too, and he’s a great Pirate,” Al grinned, “I like that nickname.”

Pharr grinned at the Colonel and winked.

“He likes it too,” the Colonel looked over at Pharr. “If you don’t mind First Lieutenant, could you be persuaded to go and get us some dinner? Not the mess hall, this calls for something special.”

“Noodles,” Al appealed with his eyes.

“I’d be honored, Colonel. Noodles it is,” Pharr grinned. “I know just the place.”

“Meat sauce,” Al sucked in his bottom lip.

“I’m very familiar with your eating habits, sir,” Pharr grinned, “as we frequent Brio’s every Wednesday night,” he winked.

“Yes,” Al said and pointed, “and you set me up with girls!”

The Colonel looked off to the side a moment, the corner of her mouth quirking up and Pharr just outright laughed. He then saluted the both of them.

“Celebratory dinner on me,” he said cheerfully and took his leave.

***

Edward slid into the car, dumping his briefcase on the floor and grabbing the seat belt to hook it up. He looked windblown and chafed a bit in the cheeks, and he reached up to rub his right shoulder as he rolled them.

Then he did the most amazing thing. He looked at Roy and grinned.

Roy blinked. He hadn’t thought to be seeing that for a while. He opened his mouth to speak, but Edward beat him to it.

“They all transmuted, Roy. All of them,” he gushed excitedly. “Every last one of them on their first attempt, I couldn’t believe it! It was just clay horses, but some of them were actually horse shaped and could stand up on their own. I taught them Al’s basic array and they all did it. Guess what? My football player made the best one. I couldn’t believe it, they are all studying and doing what I tell them to do.” Edward was practically bouncing in his seat and Roy couldn’t help his own grin, he pulled the car away from the curb.

“I’m going to fix things with Al,” Edward said then. “I’m going to tell him whatever he wants to know, nothing held back.” He looked over at Roy then.

“You know I support you,” the General said. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you reach that decision. I don’t know why I ever doubt you, you always come around.”

“I thought about what you said, about absolution,” Edward was more subdued now. “Why is it you can say the most painful things to me and then they make sense? I’d really like you to teach me that form of verbal alchemy, because it’s simply astonishing.”

Roy looked at him and winked and Edward snorted and rolled his shoulders again.

“Which brings up another point,” Edward said. “I doubt Al is going to talk to me willingly, so please help me spring a trap.”

“I am your creature,” the General said with a laugh. “I will gladly pillage and plunder and ensnare at your command,” he gave a slight bow of his head.

“Well it will be easy,” Ed said. “All you have to do is get him on the phone.”

“That I can do for you, my master,” the General grinned.

“I like this master thing, let’s try it in bed,” the blonde laughed.

“We already have, any time you want to climb on top,” the General snorted as he made the turn for the thoroughfare.

There was a class in a military academy where a former state alchemist taught. They had managed to do in one hour what it would normally take the General days, if not weeks, to do. They had lifted Edward’s spirit from the floor.

The General owed them his thanks.

***

Al was alone with the Colonel; this made him both pleased and nervous. He was both new and used to the feeling this way and it was a little disconcerting. She was regarding him with her slight smile and calling him Alphonse, this made him absurdly pleased and he felt a stirring. He then felt panic over the stirring because it wasn’t the sort of stirring he should be having with her sitting right there beside him in a chair. He cast about for something to distract himself with, a new, yet old random memory to throw out and turn his thoughts and conversation from this feeling in the pit of his stomach that was planning a campaign for regions lower.

“Alphonse, is something wrong?” she asked, one brow lifting slightly.

He tried to school his expression and just plunged ahead and opened his mouth.

“Hey,” he said feebly, “did the Colonel really have V.D. that time? It’s escaping me,” he gave a shaky smile, realized what he’d just asked and covered his face with his hands. Doomed, he was doomed.

He heard her laugh. It was a lovely sound, breathless for a moment, but not smothered. He dared to peek at her through his fingers and he went breathless himself at the sight of the smile. Not her usual, slight, companionable offering, but a genuine smile. He caught a glimpse of her teeth and she wrinkled her nose just a touch. It brought a bit of color to her cheeks and her eyes crinkled at the edges.

I made you laugh.

He lowered his hands slowly, offering his own smile in return and she shook her head at him.

“No Alphonse, he didn’t. If you do remember the culprits, please don’t inform him. That has been a well-guarded secret for many years now. We don’t wish to have the General incarcerated for murder,” she leaned back in the chair and pulled her bottom lip in just slightly, her smile still lingering. “I haven’t thought about that in years,” she said and gave a little sigh.

“I can congratulate you properly on your promotion now,” Al said brightly. “I know you’ll be a Brigadier General soon.”

“I thank you,“ she said, all poise and graciousness. “I would have liked to have made rank before you left my service. The success rate of your missions reflects well on me,” she said and smiled at him again, that wonderful smile.

Al sputtered at this compliment and cursed the heat he felt in his cheeks.

“Colonel, your accomplishments are your own,” he said. “With your good counsel and fact gathering skills, it’s easy to complete assignments for you. You have them half-completed when you hand them over.”

“I assume we could sit around trading compliments all night if we worked at it,” she said, reaching up and unbuttoning the top button of her collar as she crossed her legs, getting comfortable. “Let’s talk about your upcoming birthday. Have you decided what you are going to do when you resign?”

His eyes were glued to her fingers at her throat. He trailed them with his eyes back down to her lap where she laced them with her other hand, but he then realized what he was doing and his eyes flew back to her face where he found her tilting her head a bit, looking questioning. She had asked him something. She had asked him something and he hadn’t heard a word because she had been unbuttoning the top button of her uniform jacket.

“Uh…” he said intelligently.

“Are you still considering your own business?” she prompted kindly.

“Yes,” Al said with a rush of relief. “Also working for you, on a contractual basis. That is the plan. Brother isn’t on board yet, but he will be. I’ll just sweet talk him a little and if that fails, I’ll just I’ll sic the General on him. Sometimes it’s almost too easy, the way we can bushwhack him. We really ought to feel more shame.”

She laughed again and Al couldn’t help but laugh along with her. It was a rare occurrence in the days of his youth, when he towered over his life and spoke with echoes. She was so serious then, but it was serious times. Her ease with the situation, sitting with him in the infirmary, sharing his new old life again; it was one of the warmest feelings in his life.

“Thank you,” he said simply. “For always being there, Colonel. For what was then and then what was then again, and what is now,” he bit his lip, “did that make sense?”

“Brilliantly,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

“Maybe I should hire you as my translator,” Al sighed. “Brother is so literal it’s going to be like we are speaking a foreign language until I get all these memories synched,” he frowned. “It’s a very odd sensation having two tens and two elevens and so on.”

“I can only imagine,” the Colonel said. “Are you alright with it?”

“I will be,” Al said and tilted his head to the side. “I have some bones to pick with brother now that I know which bones to snap. I clearly didn’t know quite how to deal with him, I bet he’s in for a shock.”

“He will be happy and yet difficult,” the Colonel said.

“You know him too well,” Al said wryly. “I’ve never known anyone to work harder at being happily miserable in my life.”

She leaned forward then and put her hand on the back of his where it rested on the bed, giving it a fond pat. His stirring was back, all that hard won distraction banished in a light tap on the back of his hand.

“I’ll see about getting you some medals,” she said. “I mean that with the up most sincerity. You’ve always had the patience of a saint and the brother who could drive a saint to murder.”

“As a role model he excelled in teaching me that if we don’t get caught, we won’t get caught,” Al said.

“Truly a man with sterling convictions,” the Colonel said solemnly.

“Who never got convicted,” Al agreed.

When Pharr walked in with dinner, they were laughing again.

***

Dinner was from the deli. R.D. got half a sandwich when Ed’s mouth got busy with the General’s and wasn’t paying attention to his hand hanging off the side of the couch.

“I would so love to carry you to the bathroom,” the General husked, “but if I did, you’d have to carry me to the bedroom and put ointment on my back.”

“The sentiment is appreciated,” his lover growled, “I think I can make it to the bathroom despite the boner.”

The General could give him a hand up off the couch and grope him on the way to the bathroom, however. He in turn could grope the General’s ass when he leaned over to turn on the taps in the tub.

Edward’s sweater was on the floor and Edward’s fingers were working the buttons of Roy’s shirt when the phone rang. They both sighed. There was no more ignoring the phone for sex in their household unless they were actually engaged in sex. The General kissed his lover soundly and hurried to the den, calling over his shoulder to get in the tub, he’d make it quick.

Ed shrugged and stripped and had just started to put his foot in the water when Roy called down the hall, “Wait a minute, get in here, it’s Al!”

Ed wrapped a towel around his waist and came running to the den, where the General smiled at him and held out the phone. He took the receiver with a bit of trepidation, but Roy’s smile was reassuring and he put it to his ear.

“Al,” Ed started immediately, “I’m so sorry, I’m really so sorry. You were right and I was being selfish, but I swear to you it wasn’t about control! I wanted…”

“Brother, brother, brother,” Al kept interjecting, “brother, it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not okay,” Ed pressed on, “I wasn’t thinking. I know you’re going to say ‘Like usual’, but I really thought I was doing you a favor. I see now that it wasn’t much of a favor and I’m not asking you to understand why I did it…”

“Brother, brother, brother,” Al tried again. “BROTHER!”

Ed winched a little and squinting up one eye, glanced at Roy.

“Did that get your attention? Good,” Al said. “When we went to Risembool to get Winry to repair your arm after the dark man, whose name escapes me, destroyed your arm? You let Major Armstrong put me in the cattle car… wait… it was sheep.”

Ed blinked for a moment, furrowed his brows, then smoothed them.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he cried, now that he remembered what Al was on about, “he said it was cheaper and he already had you loaded on the train. I wanted to come back to there with you!”

“Not only that,” Al continued, “when I got put off the train by accident, you didn’t even notice!”

“I’m sorry! I noticed, but Armstrong wouldn’t let me jump off the train because it was moving! I really wanted to, he made me wait until the next stop and by the time we got back, you’d been pilfered! There are really a lot of dishonest people out in those parts, I was really appalled.” Edward put his hand on his hip and his towel sagged low; the General appreciated the crest of his butt cheeks.

“I’m just amazed I got my body back at all,” Al said, “seeing as how the other one got so little regard from you,” he sniffed.

“Now wait just a minute,” Edward scowled, “how can you…” he stopped, he looked slowly up at Roy, his eyes widening.

“At least you got all the parts,” Al said when Ed went silent.

“AL,” Ed shrieked and bounced in place. “You remember!”

“Took you long enough,” his little brother said wryly over the phone.

Roy appreciated the towel pooled on floor around Edward’s feet even more after the bounce.

***

Edward was naked, but wrapped in blankets and stuffed into Roy’s desk chair with the heating pad over his shoulder. He’d been there for almost two hours and Roy was asleep on the den couch by the window.

He was whispering things in the dimness of the room with his little brother. They had always shared things in the dark; it’s just now his eyes were trained on the figured curled up on a couch, waiting for him.

They were about talked-out anyway and Al was taking the train back to Central as soon as he could, which meant two days, possibly three at most and his brother would be back.

“I should go,” Ed whispered, “Roy’s asleep on the den couch. He’ll get a crick in his neck.”

“Okay,” Al whispered back, “we’ll go over more when I get there. You aren’t off the hook yet just because my subconscious decided to mug me.”

“I have no doubt,” Ed grinned, “whatever you want Al, just ask, it’s yours.”

“I just want my brother,” Al said, “and I’ve got that. Goodnight Ed.”

“Night Al,” Ed said, and waited to hear the click on the other end before he hung up the phone.

Roy blinked his eyes open and looked at Ed, unfocused a moment, before yawning. R.D. hopped down from the end of the couch where he’d been sleeping by Roy’s feet and did an impatient dance as Roy sat up and scratched his head, grumbling at the little dog.

“Go on to bed, I’ll take R.D. out and be in shortly,” Roy leveled himself up off the couch. “Was it a good talk?”

Ed nodded and stepped forward to lean against him for a long moment. Roy stroked his blanket covered back.

“Go on, you’ll get cold and your shoulder is bothering you. R.D.’s going to burst if I don’t take him out,” Roy coaxed. Edward stepped back and let Roy precede him out of the den.

“I know, I know,” the General was telling the black and white jumping bean, “you would let me get your leash on if you had to go out that badly.”

Edward watched for a moment before heading to the bedroom. He stood by his side of the bed for a long moment before just climbing in, blankets a fair trade for pajamas, he figured. He pushed under the heavy comforter and nuzzled into his pillow.

Sometimes, every now and again, life cut him a break.

The General and R.D. reappeared not long after and the General began to undress for the night. He started for his dresser to get his pajamas.

“Sleep naked,” a soft voice whispered behind him. He smiled then, turned around, went over and climbed onto the bed.

“Oh wait,” the voice whispered again, “got get my automail socks out of the bathroom.”

Not quite the mood killer it could have been, considering Roy didn’t want to cuddle with cold automail. He hurried on his errand and returned, climbing up onto the bed, shoving under the covers and assisting in getting the socks into place.

“I’ll be glad when winter is over,” Ed grumbled, letting Roy tie off the tie on the shoulder. He scowled at R.D. turning circles at the foot of the bed, but Roy’s voice brought his gaze back to the man.

“I don’t know,“ the General said, scooting into Ed’s blanket cocoon with him, “I rather like being buried under piles of blankets with you.”

“There is that,” Ed’s voice dropped a bit when Roy’s bare stomach rubbed against his. They were lying face to face and Ed lifted his automail leg, draping it over Roy’s upturned hip. Roy smiled at him, leaned forward to take his mouth and ran his hand down Edward’s stomach, pushing his fingers into blonde curls and over Edward’s cock, fingers wrapping around it.

Edward groaned and returned the favor, his flesh and seeking and finding Roy, already half hard. For a while, this lazy stroke of fingers and thrusts of tongue is all either of them wanted. Ed was very compliant when Roy finally tugged his hand away and pushed on his shoulder to roll him onto his back.

The only thing Roy had on Edward was height. Edward was broader, heavier and more defined. His body was still toned even though his days of endless chase were over and Roy took the time to trace his fingertips down Edward’s chest, onto the flat of his stomach.

“Leave my belly button alone,” his lover griped and the General snickered. Roy scooted down on the bed and began to trail is lips along the path his fingertips had forged. Edward was the definition of arousal for him. He stretched as Roy kissed him, opening his legs wider and sighing heavily. Roy rested his cheek on Edward’s stomach; he had pushed the blankets down, and was fingering a blonde curl to one side of Edward’s erection. Edward’s stomach quivered under him and he blonde shifted again, automail hand stroking lightly over Roy’s head, down the back of his neck and over his shoulder. It was cool through the sock, but not uncomfortably so, and actually felt rather good on Roy’s skin.

“What are you doing down there?” Edward murmured, drawing lazy circles with an automail finger on Roy’s shoulder.

“Savoring,” the General husked. He let his fingertips brush down the side of Ed’s cock and then cupped his balls. He stroked the pad of his thumb over them, as he trapped them and pressed them upwards. Edward rewarded him with a moan.

“Damn you are a sexy beast,” the General husked. “Male and erotic,” the General turned and dragged his tongue over Ed’s stomach. It jumped and quivered. “Your voice is such a turn on when it gets strained and husky,” the General told him, “your scent is musky and metallic. You’re still so solid, even if all you do is browbeat a bunch of thirteen year olds into transmuting toy horses all day. These damn blonde curls,” the General stuck his nose in them briefly and inhaled deeply, “drive me batshit.”

“Fuck,” Edward whined and arched his hips, “you trying to talk me into cumming? It might work,” he panted.

“I thought it might be a pleasant change of pace, although it is phenomenally hard to keep my hands and mouth off of you,” Roy kissed a slow trail from just below Ed’s navel to the edge of his curls.

“Do both,” Ed encouraged with a whine.

Roy kissed along the edge of the curls the top of the thigh closest to him. He opened his mouth and slid it down, then pulled Ed’s legs wider and trailed his tongue over the soft inner thigh.

Ed hitched in a deep breath and arched his back, pressing his head back into the pillow. Roy’s lips left his inner thigh; there was a broad tongue sweep across his cock, then down and over his balls. Ed fisted his hand in the comforter and pulled hard, it came untucked from the bottom of the bed and when it moved upwards, it slide R.D. into Roy’s side. The puppy’s cold, wet nose poked him there and he jumped and leaned up.

“What?” Ed cried, “What’s wrong?”

“You pulled R.D. onto me and his nose is cold,” Roy chuckled. Ed lifted his head, he’d forgotten about the dog.

“Put him out,” Ed said, pushing up on his elbows and flipping the covers over himself. Roy blinked.

“What are you doing,” Roy suddenly laughed, “R.D. doesn’t care if you’re naked!”

Ed turned red, scowled and shifted a bit.

“I can’t do it if he’s watching,” he finally mumbled.

Roy gaped up at him, then started laughing harder.

“You’re not serious,” he got out between bouts of hilarity. “He’s just a dog, who’s he gonna tell,” and the General got choked then in snorting giggles.

“I know,” Ed growled, embarrassed. “I just can’t… it’s like a kid watching.”

Roy howled in laughter, leaned down and pressed his forehead to Ed’s stomach, body shaking.

“You are such a bastard,” Ed hissed. “Now put him out before I get soft.”

Roy got up, tried to speak but couldn’t for the snickering, scooped R.D. up, deposited him in the hall and closed the door.

“Our son is in the hall, can we please have sex now,” Roy got out before finding himself just too hilarious and collapsing over on the bed, laughing hard. Ed shot him a bird with each hand.

Roy grabbed the blankets, jerked them off of Ed’s body and leaned down. He took a deep breath, puffed his cheeks and blew a raspberry right into Ed’s navel. Now Ed was howling in laughter and in the hall R.D. joined them for a few moments.

“Bastard, shit General,” Ed sobbed, “I’m so fucking horny I could die and you want to be a comedian. I was fuckin’ getting off on your goddamn sweet talk,” the blonde sniffled.

“Wasn’t sweet talk. Okay, it was,” the General grinned and dropped several kisses on Ed’s stomach. “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ed huffed, “I like sexy beast better.”

Roy growled then, a very deep sound and Edward answered with an equally deep groan. He arched his back and his lover’s mouth took the head of his cock. A tongue dragged over the slit and then he was engulfed in warm, wet heat. Damn, Roy could give a blowjob. The right amount of pressure, the tongue press to the roof of his mouth, the alternate deep throat with shallower, quicker pulls. He allowed Ed to thrust up, going up on his elbows to accommodate and regulate how far Edward pressed himself inside. He gripped Ed’s balls, rolling them in his palm and pressing them in rhythm to his suction.

Edward talked to him, deep growled encouragement, high-pitched obscenities and his name bantered. It was Edward’s habit not to call on any ethereal higher being; he just made Roy the substitute for it. He pulled off completely the first time Edward climbed close enough to release and Edward cursed him roundly and damned his parentage. In punishment, the General mouthed his balls and inner thighs, ignoring his weeping cock.

“Nonono,” Edward sobbed. “Damn you!” He shifted his hips all around, making it difficult to do anything properly, so Roy just leaned up on his elbows and let him writhe for a moment. When he realized Roy wasn’t touching him, he whined and sucked his lower lip, giving the most gorgeous, pitiful look.

Roy leaned over and kissed his cock and Ed trembled, trying to hold still but to no avail.

“What do you want?” Ed wailed. “You know I’ll do it! I’ll let you call me mare this time, PLEASE ROY,” he sobbed.

Roy grinned and took him in again and Edward thanked him by coming within the first five seconds. Roy rolled him around in his mouth for a moment or two longer, then sat up and got the oil bottle. Edward watched him with slitted eyes, then threw a pillow down beside his hip and rolled over onto it. Roy opened the bottle, but sat it slowly down on the bedside table, unused for a moment.

“You’re a complete brat,” Roy said with a grin.

“Huh?” Edward said, still climax glazed, he turned his head to look at him.

Roy smacked his upturned ass with a resounding whap and Edward howled in humiliated appreciation as he tried to fuck the pillow into submission.

***

Roy rolled them onto their sides. He hadn’t withdrawn yet and Ed’s reddened backside was pressed against his hips. Edward was limp and drenched, panting raggedly and still moaning lowly over his tender butt cheeks every time Roy shifted a bit and rubbed against them. Roy was equally drenched, also gulping for air and he buried his face in the curve of Edward’s neck, shaking as he tried to regain his composure. It was a while before either could speak.

“That was just fuckin’ hot,” Ed managed first. “I think I like your dirty talk.”

“Thought you said it was sweet talk,” Roy said, muffled against his shoulder.

“No one with a cock like that has anything sweet about them,” Ed groaned and tightened briefly on the part of Roy’s body still inside him.

“Oh god, don’t do that,” Roy gulped and shook, still sensitive after his hard climax. He felt a tremor of dread when he heard a ragged, yet mischievous laugh.

“Ed… AH!” Roy said, arching back too late. Edward tightened down hard and Roy writhed in the limited fashion he could, but couldn’t pull out.

“This is just like dogs,” Ed chortled evilly. “They get stuck like this, who’s the dog of the military now?”

“We are R.D.’s parents after all,” Roy grated out before Edward seemed to vice grip him tighter. He whined and begged for mercy.

But he just couldn’t help himself. He was his own worst enemy, truly.

“In this position,” Roy stammered when he could, “it makes you the bitch.”

Edward snarled and seemed to be able to get into negative ratios when it came to the sphincter factor.

“If you squeeze it off,” Roy gasped, “you’ll have to raise R.D. alone without his father,” Roy thought the lack of blood getting to the brain in his dick was making him delirious. Yes, that must be it. Why would he go to the trouble of infuriating people who could so easily kick his ass if he wasn’t?

Ed was glaring at him over his shoulder.

“You really have a death wish or something tonight,” he rasped out.

“They do call this the ‘little death’,” Roy managed to wheeze.

Edward’s expression turned into a smirk.

“Well,” he said, evil glint in his eye, “I think I’m feeling a little homicidal now.”

He suddenly moved forward a bit and then back into Roy, his butt hitting the General in the stomach. Roy let out a little whoosh of breath and then a ragged moan.

“Fuck,” Ed said. “I think I might be a serial killer, in fact,” he groaned and began to move himself steadily, listening to the pathetic cries of his victim and enjoying the writhing of his death throes against his back.