Ties That Bind

Title: Ties That Bind
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Bondage, spanking; d/s relations. Post-series fic, ignoring movie.

They said April was the cruelest month, Roy thought ambiently to himself as he picked his way through the patches of snow along the walk, but if you asked him, he might just have to cast his vote for February. Central weather was at its most contrary. Just last week it had been greening up; the past few days had seen a return to ice and snow. Bait-and-switch, he thought moodily. It was something that went well with visiting the Elrics.

No longer part of the military proper, it was increasingly harder to see his old charges these days. Edward was always "busy" when he called, and while he certainly understood the man being preoccupied - he was getting to know his brother again, flesh-and-blood for the first time in years, and god knows they both deserved some down time - in his heart of hearts, he still had to admit it stung a bit. He'd really thought (and hoped, as well) that they'd built some sort of connection over the years. He'd watched the two of them grow up, albeit more often in pictures and damage reports and Edward's wayward handwriting, reports on his desk that gradually grew more professional as both his fine motor control and the boy himself matured. He was now a stunning young man, with a beautiful, restored sibling, and sometimes Roy wondered if the truth of it was that Edward had just out-grown all of them in at the office.

Looking at their house now, he could certainly feel that. It was a fancy little number; a two-story gabled thing at the end of East Breton Street with trim little yard, a beautifully transmuted fence enclosing it all. A grown-up house, Roy thought sadly as he opened the gate. The wrought iron bit coldly through his gloves. It was freezing like the air outside, a subtle deterrent to proceeding any farther - as were the fanged filials on top of it, eyeless monsters cresting the doors and baring iron teeth at any wayward passers-by.

Edward's sense of style... he thought to himself, and shook his head. At least the man's penchant for skulls, dragons, and other ludicrously inappropriate decorations would most likely never change.

The path up to the house itself was devoid of snow and ice though, and a lamp was burning merrily in the window, welcoming him. Those details had Alphonse's handiwork written all over them, as did the cheery little Welcome! mat set just outside the door. It had no snow or mud at all on it, and Roy rather suspected it had been transmuted just for this occasion. Either that, or the Elrics had not left the house for the past couple weeks. Given the extent of their library, he supposed it was not impossible. The pair of them were nearly as bad as Sheska.

He gathered his courage and knocked on the door with all the authority his position gave him. Hard knocks, once, twice, a third time. He was surprised when the deadbolt slid back after the fourth; he was here a full twenty minutes early. Even more surprised when it was Edward, not Alphonse, who answered the door.

Edward, whose current appearance set off all sorts of alarm bells.

"Fullmetal!" he gasped, sucking in a reflexive sharp breath before he could stop himself. The man, normally so tanned and bronze, looked as if he too had faded with the winter. His skin was pale, as if he had not seen the sun in a great while now, and there were heavy bags beneath each of his eyes. He seemed thinner than he had been when Roy had last seen him (when had that been? November? December? he hadn't stayed long at the office Christmas party...), and the baggy shirt and pants he was wearing didn't help much with that. If anything, the voluminous clothes only served to make him look more diminutive, more tired. His hair was frizzled, as if he had just woken up.

There was a dark bruise up the side of his face.

"Oh, it's you," Edward said, as hospitable as ever. He yawned and stretched, popped his neck in a way that made Roy wince. He seemed normal enough, but Roy's eyes couldn't help but keep cycling back to that horrid purple splotch. The size of a palm-print, the shape of a fist; Edward noticed the eyes on him and sheepishly looked away.

What in the name of... Roy did not believe in a god, but sometimes, out of habit, his mind strayed toward petitioning one.

What in the name of everything has Fullmetal gotten himself into this time!?

"Al said you were coming at four," Edward complained. A diversionary tactic. Roy had seen this from him before, and he pushed his way in before Edward could blockade him in the doorway. "Hey!"

"What happened to you?" Roy asked, concerned.

"Me and Al were sparring," Edward said flippantly. "I would have had his ass, too, if he hadn't wimped out on me. HEY AL!" he bellowed up a dark flight of stairs. "COLONEL'S HERE!"

"It's 'General' now, Fullmetal," Roy muttered under his breath, and Edward shook his tangled mane of hair at him, snorted.

"Right, I know," he apologized with a bitter grin. "I suppose it isn't 'Fullmetal' anymore, either."

"So long as you remember that," Edward yawned again, and drifted off toward the open archway that led to the Elrics' little sitting room where a cheerful looking fire was burning in the fireplace. He was walking with a limp.

"You guys can have the kitchen, if you want," Edward announced. "I got dibs on the couch already. Fucking cold out today, makes me hurt," he explained. Roy watched as he limped over to a heaping basket of firewood, chucked another log on the fire. Automail must be hurting him, Roy thought with a brief pang of sympathy - then his mind did the math, and a chill ran down his spine.

Edward was favoring his right leg.

He took two steps into the living room, opened his mouth to try and say something - what he didn't exactly know; god, it had been a while since he had to deal with the prickly mess that was Edward Elric - but just then heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, and then there was Alphonse tugging at his elbow, leading him away.

"Thank you for coming," Alphonse whispered urgently, but waved for Roy to be quiet before he could say anything. He pulled him into the little kitchen at the back of the house, bid him sit down on a sleek little stool.

"Would you like some tea?" the man offered, though Roy noticed he made no motion to fetch the kettle. Alphonse's hands fidgeted constantly, tugged insistently at the edge of his shaggy mop of hair. He was preoccupied about something, that was clear. Roy decided not to bother with the formalities.

He took a deep breath in, let it out through his nose. Alphonse's hazel eyes trained on him, unhappy, and he got the sense it was about to be a very long night.

Something's wrong with brother, Alphonse had said on the phone, hushed and worriedly. I think you ought to come out.

From what he had seen so far, Alphonse had been right.

***

"Tell me everything," he said, and Alphonse held out only half a second before he gave, like a dam that had already been full to breaking.

"He hasn't been himself lately," the man said, sounding wretched. Roy nodded and slid off the stool he was on, quietly stepping aside so Alphonse could take it if necessary. The younger Elric seemed more interested in pacing, though, and clipped back and forth around the kitchen's wooden island like a caged animal, wanting to flee.

"At first, I thought it was stress," Alphonse explained. "He's not really used to being cooped up, you know that; I tried to get him to go back to work but he insisted I needed a longer 'vacation'. It's been months since I got my memories back, I don't hardly have nightmares or anything anymore, to tell the truth it's driving me batty to be at home all the time but-" He stopped and took a deep breath. Alphonse had always seemed to have the curious ability to stop his train of thought mid-sentence, derail it when it suited him. He'd inherited the Elric propensity for ranting, certainly, but unlike his sibling he seemed to possess the ability to throw on the brakes. When he continued he was calmer, with more purpose in his eyes.

"It seems like he keeps trying to...to punish himself, for something," Alphonse said flat out, biting down on his lower lip. "And sir, I'm sorry, but I just don't know what to do anymore!"

Roy wet his own lips, thinking. "How do you mean, 'punish himself'?"

"Well..." Alphonse's eyes flicked away, almost guiltily, before he started again. "At first, it was just little things. I caught him sleeping on the floor for a while, until I made him sleep in my bed - some bull about how he was just fine with the floor, he was tough, he could take it, but that's ridiculous, you know how bad his back is!" Roy nodded, as if agreeing with the man, though honestly, he didn't know. He could guess though, automail had to be heavy. "Then I noticed he doesn't always eat; if it's left-overs he gives them to me first. If I try to make him something so he'll have food he swears up and down he just isn't hungry. And then sparring -"

Al sucked in a deep breath. Roy's ears pricked even further.

"He just...this is going to sound awful, I know...it's like he wants me to whale on him. Not all the time. But enough." The man swallowed hard. "If I say I don't want to, he comes and picks a fight with me...just keeps badgering until I really do want to wipe the floor with him, it sounds horrible, I know, but y-you know brother, he can be so infuriating..."

Alphonse's voice dropped down low, almost to a whisper. "Sometimes, he eggs me on until it's really hard to stop. The other night, I was trying to read, and he came in and started taking my reading glasses from me, and saying k-kind of mean things, and I alchemized him to the floor and when he just kept at it I lost my temper and I -- I popped hard in the face and you're never supposed to do that in a fight, not even if someone is throwing shelves at you with alchemy, I just lost it and I hit him and -- I think he wanted me to, sir. I really think he did. And I apologized - till I was blue in the face, I made him stew, I transmuted ice packs until my palms were raw, but heaven help me --"

The young man looked like he was ready to start crying. "I just don't know what to do with him anymore."

Roy ran a hand through his own hair, shakily. He was starting to get a picture, he thought - there were a couple possibilities, actually, but knowing the Elrics as he did, he rejected a couple of them out of hand. No matter happened, the boys did love each other. Alphonse would never actually abuse Edward. Which meant that, perhaps...

"Well, Alphonse," he said. "That's certainly a lot to deal with."

Alphonse nodded miserably. "Yes. Sir, please...am I still not remembering something? Was brother always like this? Or is this...this masochistic tendency completely new? I tried talking with him about it, and he just shrugs it off. He won't answer me. So I thought, maybe you..."

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air. Roy drew in another deep breath and sighed.

"Unfortunately, for both of us, Fullmetal has always run a bit...close to the edge," Roy replied truthfully. The edge of what, was more complicated. Common sense, morality, sanity; everything. "Alphonse, it's okay. Sit down, you're all right." He gestured toward the stool.

The younger man plopped down on it like a puppet with its strings cut, beaming hopefully, desperately up at him, and it was all Roy could do not to try and give the poor fellow a pat on the back, or a hug, or something else he was sure would turn out incredibly awkward. Dammit, Edward! he cursed in his head, but as soon as the thought had come, it flitted away. Edward probably didn't even know what he was doing; oblivious to this the way he was oblivious to the world at large most of the time.

The way he himself had once been oblivious to his own nature, if Roy was at all right about this.

We are similar creatures, Edward and I, he thought briefly, then looked back at Alphonse, met the lanky youth square in the eye. The little stool he was perched on brought him down to eye-height.

"I'd like to talk to your brother about this, Alphonse," he said, in his debriefing voice, commanding and powerful. It was a veneer he put on sometimes, a cap he wore when necessary, and he could already see the boy relaxing at the sound of Authority, comforted at the promise that everything would soon be fixed. It was a reaction Edward never had, and that had occasionally intrigued him. He supposed he would be putting that to the test tonight, if Alphonse was willing.

"Thank you, sir," Alphonse began, and Roy shook his head no.

"I'm going to need your help though," he explained. "But you have to promise me you'll do exactly as I say, all right?" Alphonse's brow furrowed, mistrusting, and Roy held up a hand.

"It's important," he explained, "that we do this the right way. I think I know what your brother is looking for," he said, "and I think I know what to do to give it to him, but I want to make sure I'm right, and the only way to do that is to do this all right without you panicking. And I promise you, at no time will he be in any danger. All right?"

"...all right," Alphonse said at length. His eyebrows had shot up at the mention of the word 'danger', but his voice remained level. "If you agree to tell me exactly what it is you are planning to do."

Roy licked his lips, laced his fingers together, and told him.

***

It was a hard thing to explain in words, which was why he rarely tried, Roy thought bitterly a half an hour, locked inside the Elric's bedroom to make the necessary preparations. He was not sure Alphonse had entirely believed him, but in the end, it seemed the boy was satisfied just knowing that he had Roy's solemn word that he could kick Roy's ass at any time if he was upset by the proceedings.

"That's the whole point of you being there, actually," Roy reassured him several times, and finally, dubiously, Alphonse had acquiesced. Even still, Roy wasn't sure he'd bought into it.

Sometimes, he was not sure he believed himself.

He transmuted a length of light rope from the linens that Alphonse had provided; while technically he supposed they could make do with some of the fabric from the Elric's couch, Roy wasn't entirely sure that wouldn't ruin it, and he was not blessed with the arrayless alchemy that they used either. For a transmutation like that to work, he'd have to first go down and investigate the composition, which would make Ed suspicious, and then come back up and draw an appropriate array to cart in. Much simpler, and safer, just to use materials and a construction he knew he trusted. He had drawn this particular array many times before, first, ashamed, in dingy hotel rooms; later, more proudly, in high-class bordellos, and once, with a mistress.

It always came back to power, he thought, tugging hard at the length of rope he'd created. Power of will, power of form. This particular rope itself was very powerful; woven with solid carbon chains laced within the fibers, it was fifty times more resilient than the strongest non-alchemized steel. It felt supple and smooth, but not even automail could break all the way through. He had come up with it at the insistence of a pretty, desperate girl once, when they had both still just been fumbling around in the dark.

Tie me up so I can't get loose, she'd beg, eyes wide and wild, not so different from Edward's, sometimes. Tie me up so I can't go anywhere, unless it is with you.

It had gone against everything he'd known about treating a lady, back then, but to his horror (at the time) he had obeyed and done it anyway, and in doing so, realized a part of himself he'd been lacking.

He'd had time to think about it later, especially once he started realizing that when he didn't have it, he missed it - sought it out in certain bars, where a uniform wasn't hated but instead more often embraced. There were women and men who got off on authority; people who liked nothing more than a stern voice and a uniform telling them what to do, how to feel. Barking orders at them, punishing whenever they disobeyed. And he always behaved fairly, always measured performance and metered out punishment exactly as they deserved, and there was a strange sort of satisfaction in seeing them beg for him to stop, or more often, to keep going. At Ishval (always Ishval; that perpetual scar in his mind and his nightmares), he had been given uniform and rank, but he had never had real power. The orders he'd had to follow were horrific and ran counter to everything he'd thought the uniform stood for; if he could go back as a General, as a leader, hell, even as an ordinary man he would do things differently. He would have power to give orders the right way, and see those orders obeyed. It was that sort of power, in the bedroom, that he craved.

To have that authority, and to mete it out and punish (or reward) as he felt necessary. That was what he needed.

And for others, to believe in authority - or to be forced to believe in it, to be broken to its will - that was what they craved. All else was inconsequential. He wasn't sure that either was what Edward needed, not one hundred percent, but he also knew the man, as sure as he knew breathing, would not come to it easily. If an epiphany was to be had, it would come the way the rest of Edward's epiphanies did - a proverbial slap in the face, followed by a watershed moment.

The man had known nothing else from life, it seemed.

He readied another couple arrays, picked up the rest of his supplies, and met Alphonse in the hallway. The two of them slowly made their way downstairs.

Edward jerked his head up from a newspaper as the two of them slipped silently into the room, Alphonse following quietly like a shadow. Outwardly composed, but obviously still nervous. Edward shot Roy an angry glare.

"What are you two up to?" he asked suspiciously, trying to sit up and crane his head over the back of the sofa to see what all they had carried in. Roy stepped around in front before Edward could get all the way up, hands behind his back. He drew himself up firmly, flaunting his uniform's decorations.

"Fullmetal," he said, reaching deep down in himself for the Voice. The voice of his father, the voice of a drill sergeant; the voice of each and every authority figure he had ever encountered and would ever encounter again. He never used it at the office; very rarely, on the battlefield. This was a part of himself that mostly lived in his head, only came out to play when he deemed the situation worthy.

He noted, with a slight note of satisfaction, that Edward shivered a little.

"Thought we've been over this," Edward huffed and slumped back down, burying his nose in his newspaper once more. "And dammit Al, if this is really about me going back to work for this bastard, I--"

That was as far as he got. Roy sincerely doubted he'd be able to do this if Edward were paying attention, but surprise was on his side, and Roy whipped the rope and array out from behind his back and flipped Edward over in one fluid movement.

The newspaper went flying.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Edward shrieked, but Roy had enough momentum to bend the man's arms behind his back before he recovered enough to clap, and he had the array activated and glowing against Edward's body. The rope twisted out and around, over and over the way Roy mentally urged it, and Edward snarled as his wrists were crossed over each other and bound tight, his thighs lashed together, his ankles tied. Roy eased up on the reaction and stepped back, the rope now one continuous joined piece wound around Edward's entire body. He could not move.

As he'd predicted, Edward did not immediately give up the fight. He thrashed like an angry rattlesnake, coiling and uncoiling on the couch, snapping his teeth when it became apparent the ropes would not easily give. Wiry little bastard.

"What the fuck?" he screeched again. "AL!?"

Alphonse, still standing behind the sofa, looked pained. He reached one hand out, as if ready to soothe his brother. Roy shook his head firmly and glared down at Edward again, clasped his hands behind his back.

"It has come to my attention, Fullmetal," he said in ominous tones. "That you have not been altogether honest with us."

"The fuck?" Edward said weakly, staring up at him. His eyes were defiant, but his expression was slowly starting to change to one of horror as he tugged hard at the ropes, realized they refused to rip under the pressure from his automail.

"What the hell is this made out of?" Edward gasped. "What the hell did you do, holy crap..."

"You have been provoking Alphonse to fight you," Roy continued, ignoring the man's babbling. Alphonse opened his mouth to say something again and Roy gave him a withering look. "Is that correct?"

"Al!" Edward yelped, scandalized, and again Alphonse nearly went to him. Roy continued before he could, drawing in just close enough to let Edward make a fervent attempt at a full body kick. He side-stepped it neatly.

"Your actions have disturbed your brother," he said. "So much so that he turned to me, your old commanding officer, to deal with you. Have I taught you nothing, Fullmetal? I thought," he said, putting emphasis on the word, "that you said upon leaving that you were, and I quote, 'an adult', you no longer needed a guardian. Is that how an adult behaves? Unable to control his own behavior, without someone to control him? Very poor, Edward," he purred. "Very poor indeed."

Edward's response was a wordless snarl, but color had risen to his face. His golden eyes flicked downward, ashamed.

"A soldier without a commander is a loose cannon, Fullmetal," Roy breathed. "A dangerous creature. And I, as a servant of the state, can no longer let you run loose like this. If you are so intractable, as to require me to regulate your behavior--"

"--fuck no, let me go, are you out of your goddamn mind--"

"You will agree to be disciplined, Fullmetal, and take your licks like a real man, or you can ask your brother to free you, and I will go home. You have the choice. But we both know what you deserve, and we both know that I am the only one who can give it to you."

For the barest of moments, Edward wavered. Roy could see it on his face, the way his eyes darted up toward the back of the couch, to where Al was standing. But he said nothing, and at last, just drooped his head.

"That's a start," Roy purred, satisfied. He reached into his pocket, took out a piece of chalk and walked over to the fireplace, placed it on the low brick of the hearth.

"You always have a way out, Fullmetal," he said casually, although truthfully this was important. He could not, in good conscience, make Edward do anything he didn't actually want to do. "Remember that, in case you want to chicken out."

Edward glared at him hotly, a strange light burning now in those odd golden eyes of his.

"I can take anything you dish out, you asshole," he declared. "Fuck you."

"All right, then."

Roy nodded to Alphonse, and Alphonse, pale, reached down behind the couch and lifted up the heavy pail of ice water, filled to the brim. Roy reached over and took it from the man, and then, quite casually, dumped the contents out all over Edward.

Edward twisted like a live wire had just been connected to his skin; his whole body reared up and he howled, sputtering.

"What the hell was that for!?" he demanded, almost halfway off the couch now. Roy marched expertly forward and grabbed him by the waist, hauled him up into a seated position. "Fuck!"

"You're a hot-head, Fullmetal. It's past time someone cooled you down," Roy smirked, even though the pun was atrocious. Edward hissed like an angry cat, peppered the air with obscenities.

"That's not fair! You never said--I'm freaking freezing now, goddamn you--"

Alphonse looked upset again. Roy jerked his head toward the doorway.

"You may go, Alphonse," Roy announced. "If your brother really wanted out of this, he'd go get the chalk."

"'Go get' it!? You tied me up, how the hell am I supposed to to do that; it's all the way across the room!"

Roy favored him with another searing glare. "Are you telling me the famed Fullmetal Alchemist can't make it ten feet to get one little bitty piece of chalk? Oh hoh. I suppose you have lost your touch then, all these months off duty. You're not tied to the couch itself; you can roll still, can't you? I thought you told me once you drew an array with a screw behind your back; you can't manage with a nice piece of chalk? Well, the choice is yours."

Roy walked over to the fire place. He reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out one of his gloves.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked suspiciously.

"Interesting thing about combustion reactions," Roy said in conversational tones. "With the right array, one can feed them enough oxygen to sustain them -- or deplete it to snuff them."

He snapped his fingers, and the fire winked out.

Edward's eyes widened.

Roy stepped over to the living room window and undid the lock on it.

"No, no, what the hell are you doing, it's the middle of winter, have a heart--"

"The chalk's there if you want to use it," Roy said evenly. "Otherwise, I'll be back when you've decided to behave."

He stepped neatly out of the room on the heels of a frigid breeze.

***

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alphonse asked him fearfully, back upstairs in the bedroom. "Brother hates being cold."

"I'm aware of that," Roy said softly. Again, he had the urge to give the young man a hug, for everything he was putting him through. Edward was still cursing loudly down below, but the outbursts were growing less frequent, less loud. Roy went down to check, just in case he was in trouble, but Edward was still sitting exactly where he'd left him on the couch, teeth chattering and breath hissing out in faint clouds through his nose. He told Roy to go to hell.

Roy turned around and went right back upstairs.

"Won't he get sick from this?" Alphonse asked when Roy rejoined him. Roy did pat him then, and urged him to sit down.

"I won't leave him for much longer," he said. "Just enough to take him down a peg or two."

They waited a while longer in silence, reading sections of the newspaper Edward had dropped when Roy had pounced on him. Eventually Roy got up once more, and headed back to the living room.

Edward did not curse him this time, merely sat there shivering violently against the sofa. His lower jaw chattered uncontrollably and he looked at Roy with an angry but weakened expression, sucking in rapid, shaky breaths. Excellent.

Roy put on the Voice again.

"Are you ready to be reasonable now, Fullmetal?"

Edward seemed beyond words. He nodded instead, squirming a little against the sofa. Roy went over to the window and closed it again, and Edward breathed a small sigh of relief.

Roy took out his glove again and made a show of pulling it on, walked over toward the fireplace and contemplated the stack of logs. Behind him, Edward made a tiny keening noise through his nose, possibly didn't even realize he'd done so. Roy smiled.

"The rules here are simple," he announced, raising his hand. He pressed his thumb and third finger together, poised to snap. "Obedience will bring rewards. Disobedience will bring punishment. You have already earned enough punishment for how you've behaved toward your brother. You would not like to earn more. Am I correct?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Edward struggling with his wayward jaw muscles. His lips writhed as he attempted to form coherent words.

"T-t-t-t-old y-you already, t-t-o he-hell with y-you," he stuttered finally.

Roy lowered his hand.

"So be it," he said, again casually, but inside he was annoyed. He couldn't let Edward sit that much longer wet in the cold, else he really might get sick. He strode over to the couch and pulled an array out of his pocket.

There were ice crystals forming at the tips of Edward's bangs, Roy noticed with both pleasure and concern. He pressed the piece of paper to Edward's chest.

Edward's entire body curled in toward Roy's hand as he performed a transmutation, crying out at the sudden heat. The water drenching Edward's clothes and couch turned to steam in an instant, and the man's eyes bugged out at the rush of warmth where previously there had been none. He doubled over, gasping, obviously highly sensitized.

Roy sat down next to him and manhandled him over into his lap. He held Edward from behind so he couldn't twist around and bite anything important.

Edward struggled anyway and he gripped onto the man's hips hard, wrapped one leg around Edward's ankles so he couldn't kick so easily.

"I told you, disobedience would earn you punishment," he said. "You don't like me touching you, but now I have to. You disobeyed, so I can't just light the fire. A soldier who doesn't carry out his commander's orders has to be kept on a short leash, Fullmetal. Do you need me to do that to you, too? Put you on a leash?"

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and trembled against Roy's body, clearly uncomfortable at being hauled around but also clearly craving Roy's body heat. His skin was still clammy and he ground his backside hard against Roy's body, trying to escape the residual chill of the living room. It was a large space, and the window had been open for a good while. If Roy weren't wearing his heavy wool work uniform, he might have been cold too.

The grinding motion unfortunately felt good against his crotch, too. Against his will, Roy felt himself starting to get an erection. He wrapped his arms all the way around Edward's torso and squeezed hard, warming him further and also holding him still. He didn't want this to turn sexual unless Edward wanted it to, and even then, that might be a stretch for a first time.

"I have some questions," Roy rumbled directly into Edward's ear. "And I want straight answers. Do you understand? You may nod your head yes or shake it for no."

Edward shuddered and nodded yes, his hair sliding tantalizingly along Roy's neck.

"Do you like it when people hurt you?" Roy breathed into Edward's ear, well aware what the sensation had to feel like. The man gasped and twisted, but Roy held him fast.

"Answer the question," he insisted. "Do you like it when I hold you down like this? Hmm?"

Edward thrashed and struggled forward, but Roy slid an arm up and pressed it against his throat, a warning gesture.

"I want your honest answer, Fullmetal," he growled. "Yes or no, which is it? If it's no, just ask me for the chalk. Ask AL for the chalk. If you scream, I'm sure he'll come running. If it's yes, nod your head. That's all you have to do."

Edward's Adam apple worked frantically and his entire body tensed, eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling. Roy hadn't expected him to speak, but when he did his voice came out in a high-strung wail.

"YES! Okay, you bastard, YES!" Edward sobbed hard against his chest, and he thumped his head back against Roy's body so hard he would have broken Roy's nose, had Roy not moved his head out of the way just in time.

"Fuck you, you asshole, fuck. you." the young man hissed, in a tone reminiscent of his earlier outburst. It renewed Roy's confidence that Edward's repeated protests were in reality, nothing more than simple shame.

He liked this, and he was terrified of liking it at the same time.

Edward's shoulders quaked violently, and for a moment, Roy wondered if he might even cry. He pressed a soft, unnoticeable kiss into the man's sleek hair and wondered if he should break character. It was an emotional moment, and the part he was playing might no longer make sense.

On the other hand, breaking out of it now might terrify him just as much. He settled for a compromise, stayed in control.

Fought also for control of himself, of just how fucking horny that broken tone of voice made him.

"Good," he purred softly, rubbing one hand softly along Edward's side, ever so slightly. "That was good."

Edward trembled against him and said nothing. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but to his credit, he did not cry.

"You obeyed, thus you will be rewarded," Roy said. He lifted his gloved hand snapped.

Flamed roared up within the fireplace once more, and Edward twisted a little at the sudden rush of heat in their direction. The tension in his form did not immediately relax, but his breathing grew calmer the longer Roy waited. He leaned in to the hand stroking him, Roy noted, and that fanned the fire of his ego even higher - his groin ached again and he gritted his teeth, nudged Edward backside a bit away so that the man would sit further out on his lap. Power again, intoxicating and sweet. Fullmetal could break him in two with his bare hands, and here he had him tied and shuddering, leaning into his touch.

Edward seemed to notice, finally. He made a strange face and wiggled his ass back and forth as best he could, trying to scoot back to his original position.

"You get off on this," he gasped. "Holy shit."

Roy leaned down and took a chance, bit down on Edward's ear. The younger man gasped and arched.

"Do you?" he rasped, not bothering to confirm nor deny the accusations. They were irrelevant; right now they were not equals. "I want the truth, right here, right now."

Another low keen as Edward turned his cheek toward him.

"I don't know," he said. "I think--maybe?" His eyes darted wildly about the room, lingered on the chalk, but he licked his lips noisily and went on. "Sometimes I just want to fight and thrash and take it until there's nothing left and fuck, what is wrong with me?" He gave a low, hopeless laugh. "I'm supposed to hate this."

"Why?" Roy rumbled around the bit of Edward's earlobe that he clasped between his teeth. "Who told you that?"

Edward gave him a look like he was crazy. "Sane people, that's who. No one in their right mind likes being tied up...kicked into walls...bit on the fucking ear...ah!" Roy bit down again at that. He couldn't help but notice there was the beginnings of a bulge at the crux of Edward's legs. The man's pants were still plastered close to him the way they had been when the weight of cold water had molded them down to his body. Roy resisted the urge to reach down and squeeze, let Edward know he had him by the balls as well.

"Are you questioning your superior officer's sanity?" he said, low and dangerous. "Because I like it. I like this."

Edward's eyes darted over to him for a moment, briefly sharp and calculating.

"Yes," he said with the ghost of a smirk on his face. "I am."

Roy grinned viciously and slipped his arms around Edward's waist and lifted, heaving him down on his belly across Roy's lap and the sofa. Arranged it so the man's glorious, tight little ass was right in front of him.

"You know full well what you did, don't you?" he said conversationally, dragging just the tips of his fingers over the flat plane of Edward's ass. "I ought not to punish you, just for that."

Edward fussed and wiggled his hips, pressing that growing little bulge into the crack between Roy's thighs. It was no longer quite so small anymore, and the man humped experimentally, hissing a little when his erection met flesh. Roy grabbed his hips hard and stilled them, and Edward's hands flailed uselessly against their bonds.

"I know what you want here," Roy said. "But you're not going to get it like that." Now that his dander was up, he couldn't give in without a fight; not when Edward was trying to work the system, trying to usurp control from him. Smart little brat.

I will show you how the game is played, he thought with conviction. I will show you what it means to have real control. Edward had been playing for all of five minutes now, and he thought he'd gotten it all figured out. Roy intended to prove him wrong.

"You will only get what you want," he breathed, pressing the knuckles of his right hand down into Edward's gluts as hard as he could, to emphasize all that he could do. "If you can ask me for it yourself."

Predictably, Edward flushed all the way up to his ears. Roy's lips curled up into a smile. He had figured the man would be too embarrassed to give his needs voice, even though for both their sakes it would be better to state them.

"Your choice, Fullmetal," he said. "Or you can beg me for the chalk. I'll give it to you, any time."

He ran his hands up and down along the back of Edward's bound legs, up along the curve of Edward's spine, keeping his touches perfectly, mockingly light. Whenever the man tried to start rubbing himself against Roy's legs again, he'd stop and hold Edward's hips until he stopped again. He did it several times.

"Fuck you," Edward cried out passionately, the fifth time Roy's hands prevented him from coming.

"All you have to do is ask," Roy said, and went back to rubbing teasing circles at Edward's lower back. The younger man groaned.

"Fine, okay, anything, just please--" His voice caught on the dreaded 'p' word and Edward froze.

"'Please' what, Fullmetal?" Roy asked. The power again, intoxicating - since when had Edward ever willingly asked him for anything? More and more, this was just what he enjoyed, just what he personally needed.

Edward sounded miserable, as if he'd just lost his only friend.

"Please...touch me," he said lamely.

"I am touching you," Roy replied, amused. He knew damn well what the man meant; like hell he was going to let him off that easy.

"No!" Edward's nostrils flared and he tossed his head about. "I meant...damn it...please hit me! Or toss me around or bite me, or whatever it was you wanted to do earlier, I'll do whatever you say, just --" He drew in a deep, hitching breath.

"I need to be punished, sir," he ground out, and it was clear every syllable came at cost. "Please teach me how to behave."

Bingo. The right words, said in the right way, and they sent shivers down Roy's spine. The power sang through his body, he was nearly giddy with it, and he hauled his arm back and smacked Edward hard across the ass, making the smaller man howl.

"Very good," he breathed, and hit him again, at the crest of the legs, at the crest of the rump. Edward's hips jerked forward into his lap and Roy let him, pulled his hand back and slammed it down to drive Edward harder against him. "And your obedience shall be rewarded."

Edward tossed his head and moaned ruttishly as Roy hit him again, and again. The hardness pressing into his leg swelled until Roy could only imagine that had to be hurting the man too.

"You like pain?" he purred at Edward, earning only a low hiss. "You get off on being helpless, on being punished, is that right?"

"Yes," Edward gasped. He squirmed reflexively, his hands tugging uselessly at his bonds, and Roy hit him again, down the backs of his thighs and up along his flanks.

"Good," Roy purred again, and god his own groin was on fire, it hurt so bad to just watch him writhe; he wanted to be inside him, he wanted to make Edward suck him off, he wanted to jack off on his face and make him take that, he wanted to do so many things...

Edward looked giddy with endorphins, and Roy finally relented and jabbed a hand beneath the man's belly.

He leaned over and grabbed the back of Edward's messy ponytail with his other hand, pulled hard.

"Just remember," he growled, and Edward trembled, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. He gave in to his earlier wish.

"I'm your C.O., and that means I have you by the balls," he said, and at that exact moment he squeezed down on Edward's cock.

Overstimulated, stinging, Edward jerked wildly against Roy's hand and then suddenly wailed, and the helpless way he spasmed almost made Roy let go of his hair.

Almost.

***

He had to run out into the bathroom to fetch a warm washcloth and towel for Edward, and it was an act of supreme willpower not to shove his hand down his pants and jack himself to completion right then and there. He could make it though, he told himself.

He, unlike Edward, was perfectly in control.

Roy returned and found Edward lying on the couch the way he'd left him, pants soaked in the front and arms and legs still bound. He shifted a little as Roy approached him, gave a tiny little groan as Roy manipulated him so that his bonds were accessible. He reached into his pocket for the right array and activated it, severing the rope at several key places so that Edward could get free.

He took a precautionary step back, just in case. It wouldn't be surprising if Edward hit him.

Edward flexed his arms groggily and then rolled up onto his side - the side away from Roy, facing the back of the couch. He didn't say anything.

An emotional thing, Roy remembered again, and sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, ran a careful hand down Edward's side. The young man shivered a little and turned his face away even more. His eyes were squeezed shut again.

Roy just took the warm washcloth and pressed it into Edward's hand, guided the man's hand down inside his pants to clean up some of the mess. Sometimes, afterwards, it was important to pet on his partner, let them know they were still loved, they were cared for.

After a few, terse moments, Edward abruptly flipped over and curled himself around Roy's back.

"We're both fucked up, aren't we?" he asked quietly, and Roy took it as a sign to start petting his hair, and Edward buried his face into the side of Roy's leg, made the tiniest of snuffling sounds. He closed his eyes again, but again, did not cry.

"Probably," Roy admitted softly, because even now it was so hard to resist that hot rush of pride that came with having Edward (noble, powerful little Edward who had taken on the entire world and won) curled up against him. He cupped his large hand over Edward's small cheek and put on the Voice again.

"Now here's what I want you to do," he said authoritatively, and Edward shuddered visibly beneath his stare. "You're going to go upstairs and take a bath, change your clothes. Make some dinner--no, order out," he amended hastily, as he recalled what little he knew of Edward's cooking. "Get you and your brother something to eat, and then you apologize to him for being such a pain. The next time you need release like this, you give me a call and you come to me instead."

He retrieved the chalk from the hearth and walked over to slip it inside Edward's shirt pocket. "Any time, Fullmetal. I mean that. Now, am I understood?"

"Yessir," Edward breathed. The honorific was very, very faint, but it was still there. Roy tucked a lock of Edward's hair back behind his ear and continued stroking him until he heard a shy knock at the door. Edward bolted up immediately, looking embarrassed.

"I'll talk to your brother," Roy said, again firm and no-nonsense. He was proud of himself that he only limped a little as he went to get the door.

"Is it, um, over?" Alphonse tried to peer into the room and Roy slipped out into the hall, tugged the younger brother instead toward the kitchen so Edward could have time to bolt upstairs. No doubt the man was mortified, running like his life depended on it. Roy's groin complained again at the thought.

"Yes," Roy responded truthfully. He had no intention of telling Alphonse the exact details of what had just transpired, or that it had turned so sexual, because it didn't have to be. Though hopefully Edward wanted it to. Hopefully Edward wanted it to the next time, and the time after that...

Alphonse's voice cut into Roy's fantasy, and he looked down to smile at the younger Elric fondly.

"Sir?" Alphonse gave him a suspicious look. "I was asking, did everything go all right, then?"

Roy cleared his throat and flushed himself at Alphonse's knowing glare, and then offered his most debonair smile, happy and at peace with the world for the first time in a while.

"Yes," he said triumphantly. "I can truthfully say that I've beaten some sense into your older brother."

::you always bite before you lick::