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Demon In the Design	By : antilogicgirl Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1597 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of the characters therein, nor do I derive any monetary profit from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
A/N: Now you should all be happy. You'll have closure for the story, and get some rather nice steamy love scene. And a surprise at the end. But no more of that. Enjoy, and review, because if you don't, I'll cry.
And, Baroqueangel, I fully expect the terms of our bribe to be executed VERY soon. I gave in to your demands, so now you must fulfill your promise!
Warnings:
FL--Foul Language
S-ai--Shounen-ai
Y--Yaoi
Title: Demon In the Design (or… A Good Idea At the Time)
Series: Full Metal Alchemist
Pair: Roy/Ed
Begun: November 3, 2008
Complete: December 30, 2008
Summary: Prank wars never end well. Design, Deception, Denial and Decision take Roy Mustang to an unexpected Destination.
VII: Dearest
Edward James Elric stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room. There was only one chair here, and it was occupied. Seated behind the large oak desk was a rather lovely woman of approximately forty-five years. The woman’s eyes stared at Ed as if attempting to discover some way to dismantle him. Olivia Armstrong had always had that effect on him—and he suspected many others. Ed had always felt as if he were being analyzed. At the moment, the cause for such intense scrutiny was that she awaited his answer to her ‘suggestion’ that he create and run a new combat training program for the new state alchemists. He flinched when a small muscle beneath her eye twitched.
“I do not have all day,” came her harsh, clipped tones; A simple, yet grating statement of fact.
Ed took only one more split second to consider his reply. The only way that he could figure to answer was to ask a question of his own. “No offense intended, Madame Fuhrer, but why me?”
At this, a smile formed on her lips. She snapped her fingers, and as if from nowhere, the recently promoted Lieutenant Colonel Miles produced a file folder. With precise motion, her hands had taken and opened the manila folder. Hard eyes skimmed the words before them. “Your commanding officer has filed several commendations on your behalf, Major. General Mustang cites your almost encyclopedic knowledge of widely varied alchemical methods, as well as your refusal to…” she looked at the page more closely, “… ‘take bullshit’, I believe were his exact words. Extensive combat experience, and the ability to improvise, as well as that stubborn attitude are the perfect combination for what I have in mind.” Ed was not sure what to say. Roy had said those things about him? He fought back the blush that threatened to form on his cheeks. Instead of a verbal reply, he thought it best to simply nod at the praise. At this, the Fuhrer continued. “Of course,” she said as she pulled out a drawer, “I would not normally allow a Major to do this.”
Before he knew what was happening, something black was flying at his head, and it took all of his considerable reflexes to catch it. His white-gloved hand came into contact with the flat velvet box at a high rate of speed, and Ed was suddenly grateful that he’d caught it at all, and that he’d done so with his auto-mail hand. The hinge gave a small creak when he opened it, and Ed found himself staring at a new set of shoulder boards. The gold embroidery glittered in the light of the room, but Ed’s mouth hung open at the sight of two gold stars situated in the middle of the things.
“I will accept no refusals.” Armstrong said, “And I also believe that you remember my attitude about failure.”
After a moment, when he had recovered, Ed snapped the box shut, and gave a deep bow. “Thank you, Madame Fuhrer. I will do my best.”
He straightened to see a smirk on her face. “Then I suppose we’ll see in a few months how acceptable your best is, Lieutenant Colonel Elric. Dismissed.” On his way out of the room, Ed dropped a salute, and then closed the door behind him. Outside the office, in the hall, he slumped against the wall. Closing his eyes, he sighed. It looked like he was going to be spending the next four months in a place that was colder than a well digger’s ass, even in the summer. Yipee.
Four hours later, he sat across the table from Winry in a small café, not far from headquarters. She had apparently been requested by the Fuhrer, who had ordered a fresh set of cold weather auto-mail for Ed. According to Winry, she had been contacted more than a week ago. “So when do you leave?” she asked quietly, sipping at a cup of hot chocolate.
“The day after tomorrow. I’ll be taking the four-fifteen train.” He leaned on his hand, and glanced out of the window. The day had turned out to be dull and gray, and Ed was not in the best of moods. It was obvious that things were being decided for him, and he’d always hated that. But then again, he supposed that this was what he got for staying in the military. He had only done so because he did not know where he would end up if he resigned his commission, or what he would do for money. Being in the army was a steady source of income, and they’d pretty much left him to himself where his research was concerned. Up until now, that is.
Winry’s voice was even softer than before when she said, “I went to your apartment.” Ed looked back at her face, which was somewhat sad. “Al had some opinions that were…less than nice about you and the General. Is it true? Are the two of you together?” It was almost comical, the way she stressed the word. It reminded him of when they were in elementary school. Nonetheless, Ed gave a slow nod. Winry nodded as well, but then fixed him with a serious look. “Ed, you need to talk to Al. He feels like you’re going to leave him alone.”
He gave a start, and blinked rapidly. “Why?” His friend then explained that they’d always been together, very close, even for brothers. Now, there was a part of his life into which Al was not allowed. A corner of Ed’s heart was reserved for someone else, and it was clear that Alphonse had begun to grow jealous. “Okay. I’ll straighten him out on a few things when I get home. But let me ask you. How do you feel about it?”
It was now Winry’s turn to be surprised. She stared at him for a few moments, and then a small smile formed on her face. It was a sad smile, which he knew the cause of, and was a bit sick over because he could do nothing about it. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, if that’s what you mean. Anyway, I knew a long time ago that…well, it’s all in the past now. As long as you’re happy, Ed, that’s all that matters to me. You are happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, wanting to keep it simple, and not give away just how much he wished to be spending his last few hours in Central City with the very person whom they were discussing. He heard Winry mutter something under her breath, something that resembled ‘worse than I thought’. Ed brushed it off. He then asked, “So when do you want to change out my auto-mail?” Winry answered that she would like to do it the next morning, and that they should do it at headquarters. There was a large gymnasium in the first sub-basement that had just been completed. They would ask Al to come along, and Winry would observe their spar test.
Roy’s feet moved quickly. It was ten past four. Ed’s train would be leaving in five minutes, and he’d wanted to see him off. The last two days had been a mad dash to gather all of the equipment that his subordinate requested, and Roy had barely slept. He picked up his pace as he neared the side door to the station. While he had resigned himself to the current situation, it did not mean that he liked it. Being away from Ed so soon would not be good for his mood.
Turning a corner, the first thing he saw was the back of Edward’s new assistant. Though the new Lieutenant Colonel had insisted that it was unnecessary, the Fuhrer had been adamant that his new duties would require the aid of another person. Lieutenant Alice Pendleton was a tall woman, nearly Roy’s height, and slender. She had long black hair that was held back in a low bun, secured by several very sharp pins, the end of each being capped by the Amestrian crest. The woman apparently had sharp hearing, as well, because she turned around, and her piercing green eyes were suddenly regarding him in a measuring sort of way. Roy ignored her, looking over her shoulder toward the small knot of people that had gathered to wish Ed farewell.
Al stood close to his brother, delivering last minute advice on the cold, and how to keep from getting frostbite. Winry was shoving a container of oil into Ed’s hand, and Shezka was off to one side, holding a small stack of books that she had decided might be useful for the purposes of Ed’s training program. “Okay, okay, Al. You told me all this yesterday, too.” He heard Ed saying. To Winry, he said, “How often should I oil it?” She gave him an answer, and he nodded.
“Sir,” came a very cool feminine voice, which Roy identified as Lieutenant Pendleton’s, “Sir, General Mustang is here.” Ed turned around very quickly, and even faster, his face was split in an enormous smile. He dropped a rather decent salute, and stepped toward Roy.
“I thought you wouldn’t show,” Ed said, his smile widening and letting Roy know that he thought nothing of the sort.
Roy gave a smile of his own, and cocked his head slightly to the left, “That’s what you get for thinking, Lieutenant Colonel.” It was an infantile thing to say, surely, but they’d never really been mature around others. He wanted to drag Ed off and give him a proper goodbye, but that would not do. Roy knew very well that he would make the young man miss his train if it came to that. “I expect your progress reports once a week,” he said in a grave tone, to which Ed nodded. It appeared that he was taking this new responsibility very seriously. Reaching into his coat, he pulled a small envelope from his inner pocket. “This contains further instructions. They’re from me, not from the Fuhrer.” The unspoken addition to this was that the ‘instructions’ were a personal request, and had nothing to do with Ed’s progress reports.
“I’ll be sure to follow them to the letter,” Ed replied as he took the envelope.
The smile on Roy’s face became a bit warmer. “I expect nothing less from you.”
“Pardon my intrusion, General,” came Lieutenant Pendleton’s voice again, this time on his right, “but we must be boarding the train.” Roy watched as she held her hand out to Ed, as if to take the letter he’d been given by his commanding officer. Ed stared blankly at her. “It is part of my job to handle your correspondence, Lieutenant Colonel.”
Ed gave a small sniff, and slipped the envelope into his jacket. “Well, you’re not handling my correspondence with the General, Lieutenant, whether it be part of your duties or not.” She looked as if she were going to protest, but Ed stopped her with only a motion of his hand. “Don’t make me order you to stay out of my personal affairs, Alice.” At this, the woman colored slightly, her pale skin turning a shade of pink that was actually rather becoming. Roy wasn’t sure whether she was affronted because of Ed’s wish for the letter to remain private, or because he’d used her given name. Then again, from the look in the Lieutenant’s eyes, it might be that she realized what Ed meant by ‘personal affairs’.
Sounds of the engine letting off steam began to fill the platform, and Ed moved toward the train. He waved at his friends, and gave Roy a salute, saying, “I’ll see you all in four months,” and then he was on the train. Roy watched as he seated himself in his little compartment, the stiff figure of Alice Pendleton sitting across from him. It really was too bad that his assistant was so uptight. But then again, there were several people at Fort Briggs that would be much easier to get along with. Ed was staring out of the widow now, directly at him. His head was turned away from his assistant, who was looking down at something in her lap. Just as the train jerked into motion, he saw Ed mouthing words at him.
“I’ll miss you, too,” Roy said quietly, before the train pulled away. It would be a very long four months, indeed.
Alice Marie Pendleton stood outside her commanding officer’s door, staring at the heavy, dark wood. Edward Elric was a difficult man to work for. He had little regard for propriety, and even less for military etiquette. Just this morning when she’d gone to collect him for breakfast, the Lieutenant Colonel had answered his door wearing nothing more than his underwear. It had taken Alice nearly a full minute to be able to speak after that indignity. Then again, Alice thought, he was more polite than any of the heathens that called this God-forsaken place their home.
It had been six weeks since they’d arrived, and it took that long just to set up the training facility at the remains of the old mine nearby the base. That, and the Lieutenant Colonel had been forced by the weather to use his alchemy to excavate a tunnel to the main shaft of the mine, so that the trainees could go from the barracks to classes each day. Now, it being nearly midday, she was come to fetch him for lunch. For some reason, when he was working on anything that required more concentration than ordering what he wanted to eat, Alice was ejected quite abruptly from the room.
For this reason, she had set up a small desk in a nook in the chill of the hallway. And it was this position that allowed her to intercept all of the Lieutenant Colonel’s correspondence. There was a lot of it to be had, surely, but he refused to allow her the ability to screen it. Her thoughts on the annoyance caused by his independent nature were interrupted rudely, just as always.
“Get in here, Alice,” she heard him growl, and she let out a small curse under her breath at getting caught up in her own thoughts. She reached out for the knob, turned it, and then admitted herself into the chaos that was Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric’s office.
Before leaving for Fort Briggs, several very specific requests had been pushed through by the Fuhrer on Elric’s behalf. The office was the largest room that could be spared, approximately twenty meters long by sixteen wide. All of the wall space was taken up either by bookshelves that held his personal alchemy library, or with charts containing relationships between various alchemical circles. The only exception to this was a small shelf containing photographs of his mother, brother, the blonde mechanic girl, and one group photo of all people under the command of Roy Mustang.
This shelf was directly behind the Lieutenant Colonel, who sat at his desk. He was looking over the mail she had brought in a few hours earlier. Without looking up, he said testily, “I hate it when you lurk outside like that, Alice.”
Raising one eyebrow, and in a voice that was equally annoyed, she answered, “And I dislike it thoroughly when you call me by my first name, Lieutenant Colonel.”
She thought she saw him smile nastily, but it might have been her imagination. “Like it or not,” he murmured, “I am not one for formality. I’ll call you by your name and treat you like a human being, and I expect the same thing from you, unless we’re in a situation that calls for being stiff and idiotic.” Alice sighed, but finally nodded, knowing that he saw it even if he was not looking directly at her. “Don’t just stand by the door,” he waved at the chair nearest his desk. “Sit down.”
Alice weaved her way around the tables that had been set up here. Test tubes, shining in the ample light, were filled with liquids that were dripping into them from flasks and coiled glass tubes. She knew that some emitted foul odors, and that under no circumstances was she to touch any of them. Therefore, she kept her arms at her sides, and walked as close to the center of each narrow aisle as she could. When she came to stand in front of his desk, ignoring the indicated chair, she said, “Sir, it’s time for lunch.” As always, he seemed surprised by the amount of time that had passed.
There was one thing that Alice was unable to fault him on…he was certainly quite dedicated. After looking startled for a moment more, he levered himself from his seat, and picked up his coat. It was standard issue cold weather gear, the light gray fur lining the hood falling around his shoulders along with the hair he’d begun wearing mostly down for warmth. If only he were a bit taller, Alice might find him attractive. But as she had learned quickly, it was a very bad thing to say anything about his physical stature.
They walked out of the office together, and down the hall. “The new recruits should be arriving this evening,” he said as they turned the corner toward the stairs. “Have all of the things I ordered been prepared?”
“Yes sir. The barracks room is ready, as are the classroom and training areas.”
The door to the stairs loomed ahead, and Edward checked for ice before heading up. His smile was somewhat sadistic when he said, “Then we’ll see what these boys are made of, come sunrise.”
Roy sat in his study, clothed in his pajamas and a warm robe. Before him on the desk, there lay a small pile of letters. After the first week, Roy began to receive two of these a week. Ed had at first written short messages, to let him know how things were going, how he felt, how he was annoyed with the assistant they’d assigned him. Roy wrote back, letting him know how things were, how he felt, and how much he missed Ed. It had now been two months since Ed had gone, and he could feel the strain.
Sometimes, he could smell Ed on his sheets, even though he washed them once a week. Roy heard Ed’s voice in crowded places, and often found himself indulging in the ridiculous habit of looking around to see if the younger man was there. But perhaps the worst thing of all was the way he’d begun to drift off, not quite daydreaming, at the least opportune times. If not for Hawkeye, he’d have missed several very important details during meetings. The subject matter of such daydreams was not precisely surprising, but wholly inappropriate for work situations.
It had only gotten worse since a month ago. He glanced at the stack of letters, his eyes catching the first of the letters that, to him, marked a change in his and Ed’s relationship. It had come with his progress reports, but Roy always kept Ed’s letters to read just before he went to bed. This was unlike any of the letters he’d gotten. It talked at first about the usual things, like the fact that Alice had begun to loosen up, that he thought she might have started getting laid…and other general gossip. Ed had then begun a short—too short, in Roy’s opinion—description of a dream he’d had. It involved a large bathtub, hot water, and a woefully abbreviated explanation of what the two of them had done in the tub while wearing not a scrap of clothing. Of course, Roy had written him back, asking for an elaboration on the dream, explaining that he was beginning to have similar experiences, only while he was awake as well.
And elaborate, Edward had. Roy groaned as he thought of the detail with which Ed had described sensation, touch, and taste. In return, he had responded with an account of one of his favorite daydreams. Ed’s next letter—a week after Roy sent his—contained a confession that he had found this daydream highly appealing. Surprisingly, it also held another highly detailed recounting of a terrifically erotic dream. Things had progressed from there, and after a short exchange of pleasantries, there was always some retelling of a dream, a wish, or a fantasy. Roy responded in kind, and the result was surprising. He had somewhat more control over his mind during the day, and could perform well at work. At night, however, when he got home, it was completely different.
A couple of his letters from Ed had gotten a bit sticky, as he could not help but touch himself as he read them. He did not ask if Ed did the same, because he was certain that the younger man did. And now, there was a new letter. It sat there, slightly crumpled at the corners, ink on the address slightly smudged. He drank his whiskey slowly, letting the anticipation mount. Finally, when there was little more than ice left, he reached for the letter. The sound of the letter opener slitting the crease at the top of the envelope filled the space, and he reached inside.
Dear Roy,
I hope you’re doing well, and are feeling fine. Alice has a cold, and is unable to help me, not as if I need it. Morris has been bothering me of late, and won’t leave off. But then again, I’m sure you guessed as much, since you went to the academy with him. It just makes me miss you more. If you were here, I know that you’d be able to think of a way to make him leave me alone.
The days have begun to grow bitterly cold. I have begun sleeping with heated bricks in my bed. All of my pleasant thoughts now seem to involve heat, and you. Last night, I dreamt of the hot spring near my apartment. It’s shaded by willows, and very beautiful in winter. Snow falls on the rocks, but lightly, since the trees filter most of it away. The water is very warm, and your skin turned pink. I can still feel it.
My back dug into the freezing hardness of the largest boulder, but your skin was so hot…sweat and water made you slide against me. You leaned over me, hair tickling my face, and pressed our bodies close. Your hands are big, Roy. They’re slightly rough, too. They held onto me, gripping my hips to keep me from moving. It was torture, because I needed to feel you. You tease me too much, never touching me enough, or not as hard as I need. You were hard against my leg, rubbing against me, but not where I needed you. And then there’s your mouth. Sometimes I think you must be the devil. The way you use your tongue…Oh, God…
Roy could feel himself growing aroused, not at the detail of the letter, because this was not so graphic as a couple of the previous ones. It was the way Edward was becoming so frustrated at how he teased him, and his inability to describe how good it felt. The rest of the letter was much the same, ending after hours of Roy teasing him, bringing him to the brink of climax only to start all over again. The end came when they finally made love, Roy sensing Edward’s growing need in every word.
Only two more months, He thought, somewhat desperately.
Ed leaned against the door to his room. The letter…he had not read Roy’s letter. For some reason, he could function perfectly well while he trained the new alchemists, but when he was alone, he tended more and more to think of Roy. And each time he got a letter from the older man, he could barely contain his anticipation. It was, perhaps, because he knew that it gave him fodder for the fantasies that often caused him to wake up in the middle of the night with the undeniable, unavoidable need to masturbate.
Without thinking, he locked the door. He slid to the floor, ripping open the envelope.
Dear Edward,
Your last letter was beautiful. I find myself wondering what your skin is really like. Is it as soft as it is in my dreams? Is it just slightly tan, like your hands and face? All of it?
I was in my office today, sitting at my desk, and suddenly, I thought it would be nice if you were there. Because if you were there, I could lock the door, and get you out of that dratted uniform. I started imagining what it would be like. Would you like the couch? Or would you want to shove the paperwork off of the desk…and make love there? Then I thought of several different possibilities where that was concerned…which led to the following:
I must have done something awful. You barged into my office, just like you did on that day, the door slamming into the wall, and a map fell to the floor, glass shattering. Then you slammed the door shut again, and locked it behind you. There was a fire in your eyes that frightened me a little, but then again, it made me a bit excited, as well. In my dreams, you’re always the most passionate when you’re angry with me. And then you were walking toward me, a kind of predatory grace about you.
You slipped around the side of the desk, and stood over me, leaning down so that your voice was the only thing I could hear over my own heartbeat. “Roy,” you said, “I think you need to apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, but my voice did not sound at all remorseful.
Did you know that your eyes seem to glow when you’re angry? I can’t look away from them. It’s like being hypnotized. And right then, as mesmerized as I was, you could have made me walk down the hallway in my underwear, on a leash. But you didn’t. What you did was so much worse.
“I don’t think you really mean that,” you said, running a finger down my cheek. I tried to look away from you, but you grabbed at my chin, forcing me to look into your eyes. “Tell me,” you said, “how I should deal with you.” Then I couldn’t feel your hand anymore, because you grabbed the arms of the chair and turned me fully toward you. Leaning on the chair, you bent forward even more, so that I could feel your breath on my neck. “Should I punish you, Roy?” Teeth bit hard on my neck, below where my collar was. “Or should I show you what happens when you’re a good boy?”
It was hard to breathe, let alone speak, but somehow I managed to say, “Either one works for me, Edward.”
And then you smiled. You stood up, and you smiled at me, and my brain did turn to jelly. “Up you get,” you said, and I got up. I never will understand why clothes seem to disappear in dreams. Taking them off is one of the best parts. It’s just excruciating, the anticipation. But it was a dream, after all, and somehow our clothing managed its usual disappearing act. I kicked the chair to one side, and you shoved away my papers. The next thing I felt was cool wood on my bare ass, and the heat of your body between my legs…
Edward blinked at the letter. Roy had some very…interesting ideas. The rest of the letter contained imagery that would haunt even his usually productive training sessions with the students. That night, he muffled his cries with his pillow, for otherwise, he surely would have woken up half of the barrack house.
Roy Mustang stood on the platform, a little way off from where Alphonse was. Unsure how to approach the young man, he kept his distance. It was the last thing he wanted to remain at loggerheads with Al, but there was little to be done, outside of beating the kid to a pulp. Then again, Roy wasn’t sure he could beat Al to a pulp. While he wasn’t out of shape, he’d already taken a beating against the younger Elric, and he did not want a repeat of that incident.
The sound of a train pulling into the station sounded, and Roy looked to the east. Sure enough, there was a white plume of steam, and the black grill of the engine coming toward them. “Lieutanant,” he said, and Hawkeye straightened, “please alert the enlisted men to stand by.” Immediately, his assistant turned to the ten men that were lounging nearby, barking orders. They’d been brought to retrieve Ed’s cargo crates from the freight cars, and take them to Central Headquarters, where they would be unpacked in a newly finished office, and arranged to the young alchemist’s exacting specifications. When Riza returned to his side, he said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sir. Should I expect you at work tomorrow, Sir?” Roy looked sideways at Riza. She was smiling slightly.
“Tomorrow is Saturday, Lieutenant.” Saturday or not, Roy had, in the past four months, worked every day possible. It kept his mind off of the fact that there was nothing else to do with his time. Well, there could have been, since neither he nor Ed had said anything about their relationship being exclusive, but Roy knew different. He had known since he woke up with Edward in his bed that he would never want to see anyone else in his place. Now that Ed was come back, he would no longer be working weekends.
The train lurched to a stop, and after a few moments, passengers began filing out. Families greeted soldiers returned home, merchants met with associates, but he did not see Ed. The enlisted men had begun retrieving the cargo, which was precisely where it should be, but where was its owner? A hand touched his shoulder, and he gave a start. Turning, he saw what was possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes upon.
Ed stood in front of him, looking the same, yet different. He was a bit paler than before, and wore his hair mostly down, with only part of it pulled back in a braid. The smile on his face was somewhat nervous. Straightening, he snapped off a very good salute. “General Mustang,” he said, “good to see that you’re well.”
Returning the salute, Roy answered, “At ease, Lieutenant Colonel. You’re among friends.” When Ed had relaxed visibly, he added, “Welcome home, Ed.” Then Roy looked over Ed’s shoulder to see Alphonse staring hard at them. “Al’s here, too.” Ed gave a guilty twitch, and ran over to see his younger brother.
Riza leaned closer to him, and said, “I’ll deal with your paperwork for today.”
Roy considered that statement, and what it implied. Then, a sudden and very devious idea came to mind. “Negative, Lieutenant. I have a job for you.”
Riza Hawkeye was, once again, in a bad position, and just like every other time before, she only had Roy to blame for it. Why had he insisted that she do this? The bar was warm, even in the coolness of early evening. She stirred her drink with a finger, watching the young man across from her. He was, to put it lightly, drunk. At least this time he was not drooling. At the moment, Alphonse was babbling.
“…Don’t understand what he sees in him. I mean, he’s a jerk, isn’t he? Brother’s always said so.” An utterly forlorn expression came over Al’s youthful face, making him seem so much older than he was. “The things he’s done…I can’t forgive him. How can my brother? How can he love that son of a bitch?” Although she was unable to tell if he was talking to her or to himself, what he was saying only made her more annoyed than she was at her current assignment. Actually, if she were going to be truthful with herself, Alphonse Elric was quite dangerously close to pissing her off.
And if there was one thing to which Roy Mustang could attest, it was that a pissed off Riza Hawkeye was a force to be reckoned with. “Al, you’re being closed-minded.” To her, it was a simple statement of fact, but it seemed that the young man took it as a personal attack.
“What?!” he cried, his palms slapping against the tabletop. “Roy’s an asshole for what he’s done to my brother. He lied. He told Ed that he had cancer. And even before that, he treated him like some kind of errand boy. What in that list is supposed to endear him to me, Lieutenant?” He spat out her rank, as if because she worked with and for Roy, she was just as despicable as he considered her commander to be.
Al didn’t know what hit him.
No one in the bar saw what Riza did, but it had been very simple. Riza had shoved her booted feet under Al’s chair and kicked the underside of the seat, sending him backward, falling to the floor. And as he lay there, in obvious pain over his back where it had connected with the hard slats of the wooden chair, Riza calmly got to her feet. She stood over him, looming.
“Listen to me, Alphonse. Roy only pretended to have cancer to get back at your brother for something. Yes, he can be completely infantile, but just in case you had never noticed, your brother isn’t the pinnacle of maturity, either.” Al’s mouth opened as if to retort, but then Riza leaned down, her jaw set in a hard line. “I don’t appreciate interruptions, Alphonse.” The only reply she received was a loud noise of swallowing. “Now, as I was saying…He thought that Edward was tougher than that. He said so himself. Roy never meant to hurt Edward, Alphonse, and he has spent the better part of a year apologizing for it. And furthermore, who do you think you are to judge your own brother’s choices?”
For a long moment, Al stared dumbly at her, unable to say anything at all. Riza allowed her voice to soften as she settled to her knees at his side. “Don’t think that I’m not aware of why you reacted so violently to their relationship. You’re not going to lose him. He’s still your brother.” She could see tears forming in his eyes now, and though she did not regret her words—she had spoken only the truth—she knew that Alphonse was very sensitive. It had not been her intention to harm him.
“I don’t want to be alone,” he said in a quiet, rather desperate voice. Al flinched at his own words, and looked away.
“Are you always this stupid when you’re drunk?” Riza asked, teasing him.
Grumbling, and sounding very much like Edward, he said, “I wouldn’t know. Only ever been drunk once.”
“Twice, now.” She laughed, and helped him up. He stumbled, and she steadied him, making sure he was at arms length. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of his birthday party. “Come on, you drunk, you. I’ll take you home.” Al smiled somewhat goofily, and Riza wondered what he was thinking. On second thought, it might be better not to know.
They sat on the couch in the living room, lounging with their feet on the coffee table. Roy had undone the braid in Ed’s hair, and was running his fingers through it, almost incessantly. Ed had never felt so content. “This feels good,” he said, leaning back into Roy’s chest. There was a soft noise of affirmation from behind him, and he allowed the fingers of his flesh hand to continue their current occupation of tracing circles over the leg of Roy’s trousers. He didn’t have to say how much he’d missed the way Roy touched him. Every letter, every brief telephone call, had been filled with it.
And when he saw the tall figure of his commanding officer standing there on the platform, looking around anxiously, he had almost run to him. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to jump on Roy and kiss him until breathing was not an option. Of course, the moment they entered Roy’s house, Ed had found himself pressed against the back of the door, his breath stolen away in the most wonderful way imaginable. Half an hour later, they were on the couch, simply enjoying the fact that they could be in the same room.
Ed wanted to ask Roy about the letters, but was unsure how to do so. The erotic imagery made his heart beat faster. He wondered what such things would be like, and the more he thought about it, the more curious he became. After a few more minutes of thought, he said, “Do you really like it when I’m angry with you?”
He heard a chuckle next to his ear. “No, Ed. I don’t think I’d like it if you were truly angry with me. That was just a fantasy. Or…maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if you used your anger in the right way.” This information only served to spark heat in the pit of his stomach. Lips brushed his ear, and Roy’s voice fell into a deeper, almost growling tone. “But we can discover what that’s like later. The first time we’re together—whenever that might be—I want it to last. I want to be able to hold you while we make love.”
A blush sprang to life on Ed’s face. He wasn’t sure why, because he had confessed to having some extremely lurid fantasies, himself. In theory, Ed thought he should have no shame. The warmth in his stomach spread a little, growing more intense when teeth grazed the shell of his ear, and he gave a small groan. “Wouldn’t you prefer to take our time, Edward?” There it was again. Roy only had to say his full name like that, and Ed knew he would do anything asked of him. All he could do was make a small, almost meek noise as the side of Roy’s face nuzzled at his neck. “Because…” something warm and wet flicked at his earlobe, and Ed’s breath caught in his throat, “…I love you, Edward, and I want to make sure you know exactly how much.”
Just when he gathered the presence of mind to realize that the ‘something wet’ had been Roy’s tongue, it was back, caressing the soft, sensitive flesh. Ed could not stop the short moan that came from his mouth when his earlobe was pulled into Roy’s mouth. The hands that had been in his hair then ran down his arms and back up again, before sneaking around his waist. “You’re evil,” Ed groaned as one of those hands began pulling his white uniform shirt from where it was tucked into his pants.
“But Edward,” Roy’s voice rumbled, “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Deft fingers worked at pearly white buttons, and Ed soon felt cool air on the skin of his chest, followed soon thereafter by the heat of Roy’s hands. “Ah…liar…” It should be illegal for hands to feel that good. They weren’t really doing anything special, either. Fingertips, slightly rough, played over the skin of defined pectoral muscles, only barely touching. Ed felt his back arching as his body instinctively sought more of that warm contact.
Roy’s body trembled right along with his hands as he finished opening Ed’s shirt. His eyes were closed, preferring to see the planes of muscle and sinew with the tips of his fingers. Slowly, he stroked over pectoral and abdominal muscles, learning the texture of Ed’s skin. His mouth left Ed’s ear, traveling down to nip at one of the larger tendons in a graceful neck. Every touch drew such intense responses, as if no one had ever laid hands upon him. For a moment, Roy’s hands paused. Had no one..?
“Edward,” he asked, his tone suddenly serious, “Have you never done…this before?”
He could feel the younger man stiffen. “No,” he heard him say, “I never wanted to.” Abruptly, he felt his hands being squeezed hard against warm flesh. “Don’t stop, please.”
Roy pressed his face into the crook of Ed’s neck. “I won’t. But don’t let me do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Promise me, Edward.” He had no wish to hurt his lover. Again, at the thought of Ed in such a capacity, his eyes slid shut. This was what he had wanted, needed for several very long months, but he wanted it to be pleasant for both of them. Ed had not answered. “Promise me,” he said again, his voice more insistent.
“I promise, Roy.”
“Thank you,” Roy breathed, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of Ed, how it was cool and yet warm at once, and the way his somewhat smaller body seemed to fit so perfectly in the hollow of his arms. Ed let go of his hands, allowing them to go on exploring. In turn, Roy felt Ed’s fingers running over the outside of his thighs.
Roy moved his fingers over Ed’s sides, dragging nails over his ribs. Ed gave a long, soft groan. There was scarcely an area of the younger man’s body that was not utterly responsive, as if it were one enormous erogenous zone. At that thought, Roy began sliding his hands lower, mirroring Ed’s. They whispered over the blue wool of uniform pants, and Roy wondered at how he’d ever found that cloth to be soft, now that he’d touched Ed’s skin. The longer he allowed his hands to linger on Ed’s thighs, the shallower his companion’s breathing became.
Curious, he opened his eyes and looked down over Ed’s shoulder. Judging by the evident swelling in those blue trousers, Roy was decently well assured that Ed liked what he was doing. His curiosity led him to graze the smallest, softest touch over his lover’s clothed arousal, which earned him a violent reaction.
Ed jerked, his body arching as he cried out wordlessly, and fell back in a limp heap against Roy’s chest. After long moments of catching his breath, Ed half-turned, rubbing his face against the front of Roy’s shirt. “Sorry,” he said dreamily, “I guess I was a lot more wound up than I thought.” Then, in a slightly more sober tone, “Hn…need clean pants…”
A few minutes later found Ed cleaned of his recent mess and swathed in a fluffy blue bathrobe. He sat on the edge of Roy’s bed, feeling oddly relaxed. Shouldn’t he be nervous? After all, he did not really know what to expect, so there should be some apprehension. Logically, he understood this to be true. But he could not remember the last time he had used the logical part of his mind when he thought of Roy.
The door to the bathroom opened momentarily, and from it came Roy, clothed in nothing more than a loosely fitting pair of drawstring lounge pants. Ed thought that it was a very good thing he was sitting down, otherwise he may have fallen over. Roy’s skin was fair, but there were several large scars that looked like burns littering his chest, and upper arms. Somehow, Ed got shakily to his feet, taking the remaining few steps toward where the older man stood. He raised his left hand, tracing one of the scars on Roy’s chest, near his collarbone. The scar tissue was a faded pink, and looked more recent than some of the others.
Roy shivered at the touch. Ed leaned forward, using his tongue to retrace the path his finger had taken. Hands reached out, resting on his shoulders, and he heard a low groan. Allowing his mouth to leave the scar, he paid lavish attention to the slender expanse of Roy’s collarbone as his hands slid down to play over skin that had haunted his dreams. When he looked up, he saw that dark eyes were shut, fine features relaxed in an expression of blind awe. The feeling was, for Ed’s part, mutual. “You’re beautiful,” he blurted, before he could stop himself, and Roy’s eyes popped open to look down at him, and he blushed. But he had only been being honest, so he said, “You are beautiful,” and reached out to touch the older man’s cheek.
Roy only smiled, making him even more striking. The hands on his shoulders slid down, taking his hands. “Come with me,” Roy said, releasing Ed’s right hand and leading him to the bed. Roy seated himself, and Ed stood only inches away, feeling for the first time the way the other man’s hand trembled as it held his. A moment later, that hand slipped away, and found its way—along with its mate—to the fluffy knot at Ed’s waist. “May I?” Roy asked, and Ed nodded. The air was cool, but not cold, on his skin as the tie fell away, exposing him. When the robe slid to the floor, he heard a gasp.
“Roy?” he asked, suddenly concerned by the shocked expression on fair features. Did he think Ed was repulsive? Hands visibly shaking now, Roy touched Ed’s stomach, tracing old scars, the indentions between muscles, moving over the slight roundness of his hips. Ed would never be able to describe the way it felt in those first few moments. It was the single most euphoric sensation he’d ever experienced, the way Roy seemed intent upon touching every inch of his skin, almost as if he were memorizing it.
The only exception to this exploration was the one place that Ed would very much like for Roy’s hands to be. He was becoming more and more aroused now, and he had no illusions about the other man being so obtuse that he would not have noticed. His only conclusion after nearly five full minutes of this treatment was that Roy was teasing him. “Roy,” he was slightly ashamed at how hopeless his voice sounded, “Touch me.”
“Patience is a virtue, Edward,” Roy admonished, the fingers of one hand grazing the skin of Ed’s inner thigh and causing him to shudder. “You have never had that quality in great stores, though,” he gave a minimal laugh, “so I suppose I can humor you…just this once.” And then Ed nearly had his second climax of the evening, because not only were Roy’s fingers ghosting over his still-forming erection, but his tongue was drawing fiery trails over his lower abdominal muscles.
He did not know how he ended up on the bed, because the next few moments were nothing more than a blur. When he next realized what was happening, Roy was lying next to him, teasing his arousal and studying his reactions. Ed thought that Roy was wearing too many clothes, and told him so.
Roy smiled and stood. He gently pulled the string at his waist, and Ed blinked repeatedly when the dark gray cotton fell in a heap to the floor. Oh, dear God, Ed thought, because that’s what Roy looked like. His body was hardened by years of military training, and Ed’s eyes could find no imperfections. Inwardly, he admitted that he was willing to use his hands to perform a closer examination, so when Roy slid back onto the bed, he promptly began doing precisely that.
Half an hour later, he still had found nothing wrong with Roy’s body, though he had discovered that the older man liked very much for Ed to pay close attention to his hipbones. For what must have been the tenth time, he nipped at the slight protrusion, causing Roy’s back to arch slightly. His fingers carded through soft, yet slightly wiry hair at the base of the erection that had formed due to his touches. Roy sighed in a contented way, and Ed smiled against his skin.
In his dreams, Roy had tormented him, using his mouth in ways that Ed had never thought possible. He supposed that even if it had only been a dream, he could return the favor, if only a little. The sound that ripped from Roy’s throat when he ran his tongue across the length of his arousal was something like a strangled sob, and Ed felt the man’s body begin to shake. Again and again, he repeated this motion, until he finally enveloped the very tip of it in his mouth. “Ahhhh…oh…” Roy groaned as Ed moved his mouth over him, his face contorting in a mask of pleasure that seemed almost painful.
It was not long at all before large hands landed on his shoulders, pushing him away. “Stop, Ed…” He said breathily, and Ed understood. If it felt anything like it had in his dreams, he understood very well how difficult it would be to hold back from the edge of oblivion. Roy pulled him down over his body, holding him close and peppering Ed’s neck and the side of his face with small, feverish kisses. “It felt…far too good.” Ed only nodded.
He shifted his legs, and his erection came into sudden and delicious contact with Roy’s. Both men gasped, having been unaware that anything could feel quite so good. Roy managed to push himself into a seated position, and Ed found himself straddling his lap. He felt somewhat exposed, but it did not feel bad at all. How could it be bad to slide against Roy the way he was? Their bodies seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved, sliding and rocking, all the while bringing them closer to the darkness beyond euphoria.
Ed was dimly aware of Roy’s left arm reaching out, fumbling at something, stopping. Then there was something slightly cool and liquid pouring over his erection, and he gave a start, looking down. His eyes widened. Roy had apparently had the presence of mind to retrieve a small bottle of massage oil from the night table drawer, and was now spreading it over both of them. “Ah…R…Roy…I…I can’t…” It felt too good.
“Ssssh,” Roy whispered, one hand pressing into his back to pull him close, the other still smoothing over his erection slowly, torturing him so sweetly that he thought he may go mad. “Let it come, Edward,” the other man’s voice was rough with what Ed now recognized as desire, and he did as Roy said. He relaxed, letting the sensation wash over him, feeling wave after wave of it until it inundated his entire being, and drowning him in pleasure.
Edward was beautiful. Hair was beginning to stick to the sides of his face as his body had developed a sheen of perspiration. His head fell backward, exposing more of his throat, and it was more temptation than Roy could resist. He took good advantage of it and began to pay homage to the man that was fast becoming his one and only god. Ed gave a low groan as he reached his climax, still moving against Roy in the most sinful of ways.
Roy proceeded carefully after quickly using a tissue to clean Edward of his mess. He applied the oil to his fingers, slowly administering just enough pressure at first. Ed only stiffened slightly, relaxing soon thereafter. True to his word, he took his time, making sure that he caused no more pain than was inevitable. By the time he lifted Ed up, the younger man was aroused once again, and helped to position him.
It felt…indescribable. Roy used self-possession he had not known himself to have, just to keep from moving too quickly. Ed groaned as he sank down lower and lower, resting his forehead on Roy’s shoulder. Roy stroked Ed’s hair, murmuring comfort. Soon, Ed relaxed, and shifted his hips experimentally. Roy moaned, gripping his lover’s hips. If this went too quickly, he would never forgive himself. Ed began attempting to move again, letting out a whine of disappointment at Roy’s limiting grip.
“Please,” his voice escaped his lips as a desperate whisper, “Please, Roy, I need you,”
And you said I was evil? Roy thought, letting up on his grip. Ed’s hips moved in slow, rolling circles, and it was all Roy could do to hold him, and try not to force the pace to quicken. He knew that it could not last much longer, but he wanted it to, so very much that he almost could not stand it. Inevitably, Ed began to rise and fall faster, and Roy felt things spiraling dangerously out of control. He could no longer tell whose moans filled his ears, who it was saying that they must move faster, that they needed more. Roy wasn’t sure if it was really him, or if it was Ed that made him fall over, but he somehow ended up on his back.
Ed let out a yell, almost a scream, and Roy stopped breathing. It was so unbelievably excruciating, so intoxicating to watch the way Ed almost seemed to glow, as if he were on fire, only for him, that he felt as if he were dying. He found his end just as Ed fell forward onto his chest. “I love you,” he breathed into Ed’s hair as it all became too much.
“I love you, Roy,” Ed answered, sounding utterly exhausted. He was falling asleep. After a few minutes, Roy managed to roll them to the side. Once he’d cleaned them up, he pulled the covers over the both of them.
“Sleep well, Edward,” he whispered, watching the rise and fall of Ed’s chest. He was truly beautiful.
The next morning…10:49 a.m.
“You didn’t have to carry me,” Ed grumbled.
Roy sniggered. “Edward, you would not have been able to make it up all the way here. Even if you’ve taken painkillers, I know you’re hurting.” The unspoken apology was in his voice, and it annoyed Ed to no end. He took a swing at Roy.
“Damn you, Roy, I know you’re sorry I’m sore. But you know that I wasn’t complaining at the time, so just damned well drop it.” Roy held up his hands defensively and said no more as Ed unlocked the door to his apartment. The shades were still drawn, which was unusual. Al was usually up at the crack of dawn, and he liked tons of natural light. Ed walked into the living room and took off his shoes, listening to Roy do the same behind him.
The corner past the short entrance hall was where the light switch was located, so Ed reached out his left hand to turn on the lights. The incandescent fixture overhead flickered into life, revealing the room. Wait a minute…
“Something’s wrong with this picture, Ed.” Roy’s voice seemed somewhat amused, but there was nothing funny about what Ed saw.
Near the couch, there was a rather large pile of clothing, only half of which he recognized as belonging to his brother. One of the most recognizable items was a military jacket, the gold-striped shoulder boards revealing the rank of First Lieutenant. Ed’s eyes traveled to the large lump in a blanket on the couch, which had two heads. “Oh, God,” he said softly, “I think I feel a little sick.”
Poking out of the top of the blanket were two heads. The two-headed monster moved, one of the heads turning toward them. Long blond hair was shoved out of the head’s light brown eyes by a small hand, which immediately gave a sarcastic salute. “Sirs. Good morning.” Ed looked at Roy, who looked as if he were going to burst out laughing any moment. Riza sat up, covering herself discreetly with the blanket. “Lieutenant Colonel, your brother is a piece of work.”
“Um…” Ed said, shaking his head, “…I really don’t want to know what you mean. Roy, let’s go to the kitchen. I have a sudden need for coffee.”
At that, both Roy and Riza burst out laughing, causing Al to stir. Ed bolted into the kitchen.
Roy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, listening to Ed making coffee, and watching as Al sat up. The young man was only slightly bashful, which seemed to be a good thing as he pushed a stray fall of hair behind Riza’s ear. She smiled crookedly at Al, and reached down, rooting through the clothes on the floor. Instead of retrieving her uniform, her hands brought up Al’s shirt from the day before. Roy went into the kitchen to comfort Edward. He supposed that it was not every day that one realized his younger brother was less innocent than he seemed. However blind to it Ed might have been, Roy had seen the looks Al had given Riza over the past year and a half, even if Riza herself had not. Alphonse’s birthday party had only been a confirmation of his theory. And last night was the result.
The only issue he might have difficulty proceeding on was how he was going to break the news to Ed that he’d sort of set the situation up…but that was an argument for another day.
The End.
Or is it?
A/N: A note on canon and accuracy: I'm not exactly sure what it was that Trisha Elric died of. Though I've seen the Anime, I have only gotten through 1 volume of the Manga, so if there's any detail that I've missed on that account, please forgive me. For the purposes of this story, Trisha died of cancer. Also, where age is concerned, I'm basing age off of Edward, who is 20. All other ages should be adjusted accordingly in your minds, to avoid that increasingly pesky confusion over child pron.
R E V I E W.
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