[FMA fic] [NC-17, Ed/Roy] Assessments
So, it basically went like this:
Haru: [wakes up, checks friendslist] "Huh! calintz needs some distraction! Maybe I'll write a short smutty Ed/Roy fic for her!"
Haru's Brain: "No, you'll write plot."
Haru: "...but I don't have any plots in mind."
Haru's Brain: "Ha ha ha. So? You're writing plot."
Haru: "...it'll have to be a cliche plot, then."
Haru's Brain: "Deal! And smut."
Haru: "FINE. [heats up food, sits down at computer] "But I'll be finished by ten pm at the latest, and no more than 15 KB!"
Haru's Brain: [snickers]

14 hours and 43 KB later, the fic is done.

This is essentially the rough draft; I'll be cleaning up the little typos and so forth when I go to HTML it for the website but, you know. Sharing it with you all now. :) I hope you enjoy!

Assessments
Fullmetal Alchemist
Ed/Roy
No spoilers unless you count things you figure out about episode 13 or so, but ABSOLUTELY ABSOLUTELY NOT WORKSAFE. Graphic man on man action here. Just sayin'.
The yearly assessments are coming up, and both Roy and Ed have to study -- even if it seems their behaviour is being assessed a little earlier than they're prepared for.



"I need to stay here for awhile," Ed said frankly, suitcase at his feet.

Roy Mustang blinked at him, taken aback; thinking over it, he couldn't find any reason why Edward might have to leave the dorms -- there was a renovation scheduled, but that wasn't until the summer, and it wasn't even spring yet now. "Ah -- is there a problem?"

"Yes, there's a problem," Ed said, eyes rolling. "I'm standing on your doorstep with my suitcase in the snow. Let me in, already."

Still slightly uncertain, Roy took a step back and gestured Ed in; there was no way he could let Ed stay there -- they'd be at each other's throats in minutes, if not sooner, and more than that, he needed the time to prepare for his upcoming assessment -- but he could at least get some privacy to find out what was wrong.

He watched as Ed put a suitcase down and sighed, stretching back far enough that Roy could hear his back pop. "Ah, Fullmetal--"

"Great," Ed said, and clapped his hands together, rubbing them to dispell the sparks that rose up between them. "So, where's your spare bedroom?"

Roy locked the door, then held both hands up in a 'please, slow down' gesture. "Fullmetal, can I ask what's wrong?"

"It's not a big deal," Ed said, shrugging. "Just need a place to stay. Getting threatening notes."

Inhaling when he meant to exhale, Roy coughed for a moment before he could clear his throat. "Someone's sending you threatening notes?" Certainly, with Alphonse visiting Risenbul after his restoration, Edward was alone, which might seem like the best time, but...

"Yeah, I know." Ed kicked his boots off and Roy watched as they hit his wall and left a trail of wet mud. "I'm not particularly worried; whatever it is, I'm sure I can deal with it -- if it was anyone actually dangerous they probably wouldn't have bothered to warn me in advance."

Roy's brows furrowed. "Then why--"

"My assessment's coming up," Ed told him, in a tone like he was wondering if Roy was particularly stupid that day. "Even if whoever it is isn't a real threat, they're a distraction, and the librarians told me I wasn't allowed to stay at the library. Just as well, I'd like a real bath now and then."

"I could check you into a hotel," Roy offered, and was interrupted by Ed's snort.

"Figures," Ed said. "You get all on your high horse about me coming to you when I need help and when did you ever earn my distrust, but when I actually come to you--"

Roy rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I was just thinking that a hotel might--"

"Plus, while someone might be dumb enough to send letters to the Fullmetal Alchemist, in his dorm or a hotel, they probably wouldn't send 'em when the Flame Alchemist is right there." Ed grinned lazily at Roy. "You have something of a reputation, you know. Plus, hell, aren't you in line for another promotion? Nobody'd want to get on your bad side."

A rueful smile settled on Roy's face, and he held out a hand for Ed's coat, which was tossed to him. "On the contrary, Fullmetal, I have quite a few enemies--"

"Yeah, because you're an asshole." Ed picked up his suitcase again, making a face at how the snow had soaked the bottom. "So, your spare bedroom?"

"I don't have one," Roy said. "But I can make up the sofa."

Ed brightened. "Can you? That'd be great, thanks."

"Not much privacy," Roy added. "But I can move the bed into the study or library if you--"

"Library," Ed said instantly. After a moment, he added, cheerful, "Please."

Roy nodded, and started to head from the room, then paused. "...Fullmetal, please tell me that your real reason for all this wasn't just that you wanted access to my library."

"Well, my assessment is coming up." Ed shrugged, unrepentant. "A hotel wouldn't have proper study materials. Need me to get the other side of that sofa?"

***

Lieutenant Walsh waited a good half hour to see if Edward Elric reemerged, binoculars pressed to his face. He'd lost track of them for ten minutes or so when they'd moved into the interior of the house, and he'd had to circle the house a time or two before catching sight of them in Mustang's library. They were setting up a couch with blankets and pillows, and Walsh spared a moment to wonder if the General was correct.

After all, Mustang was clearly setting the kid up with a separate place to sleep. Just because he was gonna take in a clearly-frightened child under his command didn't make him a child-molestor, or the type of man to fraternize or whatever the General seemed to think he could get charged for.

Walsh didn't mention any of this when he found a pay-phone and reported in, but the General seemed to hear it in his voice anyway.

"Think of it this way, Lieutenant," the General said, not unkindly. "We need to make sure of the man's moral character, since he's under review for a promotion. If he doesn't do anything to the Fullmetal boy, then there's no harm done in the long run. And if he does, we know he's not fit for his position."

"Sir." It was true enough, after all. "But, ah, sending the Fullmetal boy those letters so he had to leave the dorms -- Isn't that entrapment, sir?"

"But for a good cause, Lieutenant. For a good cause." The General sounded almost pleased. "I appreciate the report. Return to your surveillance; Brodger will be relieving you at 18:00."

"Yes, General." Walsh hung up and stretched before turning to return to Mustang's house.

Even if it was pretty pointless, since Mustang really didn't seem the type to abuse power like that, orders were still orders.

***

"You know, Fullmetal, I'll have to come back now and again to get books I need."

Ed waved him away. "S'fine," he said, opening the suitcase to pull out a few well-worn texts of his own. "Don't worry about it, I'm used to sharing my room with Al. I probably won't even notice it when you come in."

Even though he'd said that, Roy took an extra few minutes to comb the shelves for books he thought he might need; it'd be better to have them with him in his office, after all, than have to continue interrupting Ed. It was going to be difficult enough trying to get along with Ed for --

"...how long will you be staying?"

Ed blinked up at him, having already gotten absorbed into a book on chimerical arts. "Eh? Uh, I was thinking until the assessment."

"...that's two weeks from now."

"Is that a problem?" Ed shrugged at him. "Take whatever you need out of my research funds as rent, I don't care." That decided, he raised his book and buried his face in it again.

Sighing, Roy stacked books in his arms and hauled them out of the room; Ed didn't even look up as he went.

Well, he thought ruefully, if Ed stays this quiet the entire stay, perhaps we can do this properly after all.

***

And it seemed that it might well go that way; five hours later, Roy found his stomach growling and regretfully put down The Six Elements, rubbing cramps out of his writing hand. It ached, and he thought that he must have gotten too absorbed in the text; his hand wasn't going to be good for much until it stopped tingling.

But food came first. He headed out to the kitchen, checking the ice box on the way. After a moment, he snagged some stewing beef; it would have been better had he defrosted it earlier, but he hadn't thought he'd be cooking for two.

As he chopped vegitables and browned the meat, he tried not to think how odd it was to be cooking for Ed; as long as he could remember, he'd only cooked for himself and the occassional lover, and he doubted Ed would appreciate the comparison.

With the pot bubbling away, he pondered returning to his study to work further and found the thought tiring; he'd spent hours doing nothing but that day already. It felt tense, uneasy, like he'd rather be doing anything else, so he sighed and went to check on Ed.

Ed was right where he'd left him, curled in the corner of the sofa, surrounded by books, nose in one -- though Roy noticed it was a different book from earlier, and he smiled ruefully. Ed was a genius, after all; perhaps he could take that much information in that quickly.

He waited for Ed to notice him, and after a few minutes, he began to feel almost uncomfortable. It seemed Ed's earlier words were honest; he didn't seem to have even registered Roy's presence. Although Ed was only reading, there was something almost voyeuristic about it, Roy thought, in the way he could apparently stand there for an hour and not be seen, about the intense look on Ed's face as his eyes scanned down the page, in the minimal movement he needed to turn the page. In the way Ed was worrying at his lower lip between his teeth as he read.

"Fullmetal," Roy said, breaking the moment.

Ed scowled irritably at Roy, blinking as if trying to readjust his eyes to something other than text. "What? I'm reading."

"So I see," Roy said. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Ed blinked again, expression smoothing out as he considered. "I -- no. Well, I had an apple this morning."

Ruefully, Roy decided that they weren't that unalike. "Well, I've some food on. It should be ready within the hour, so if you can find a good stopping place..."

"There are no good stopping places," Ed muttered, gaze slowly drawing down towards his book again. Then, almost grudgingly: "Thanks. I'll just finish this chapter."

"You're welcome, Fullmetal," Roy said, watching as Ed tuned him out again, went back to reading and turning pages like he could shut out the rest of the world entirely. He had never seen Ed like this before and thought, surprising himself with the fierceness, that Tucker had never deserved to be the first one outside of Ed's family to experience it.

I had better get back to my own studies rather than admiring those of another, he told himself sternly, and headed back to his office without looking back.

***

Ed didn't come down for dinner.

Roy waited another ten minutes before filling his own bowl and eating it. He took his time, not sure entirely why he was hoping Ed would come down in the meantime; he was used to eating alone, after all.

Well, every cook did want to see his food appreciated.

He finished and washed his bowl out, wondering if he should call Ed and remind him of the time. No, he decided a moment later; if Ed was that caught up in studying, then he wouldn't appreciate having to leave his books. He ladled out a large bowlful -- Ed was seventeen, after all, he'd have quite an appetite -- and brought it over to the library.

Ed blinked up at him as he entered, distant, still absorbed by his reading. "Ah, Colonel--"

"I brought you your dinner," Roy said.

"Thanks." Ed didn't seem surprised by that. "Put it on the table?"

Roy did, and saw Ed reach out to pull it into his lap, eating as he read.

An hour later, he went to fetch the bowl and found Edward asleep on the couch, book propped up against his chest. His face, in sleep, was rather like his face when reading -- smooth but intent, focussed now on the inside of his lids.

He's probably, Roy thought wryly, dreaming of studying.

Roy took the bowl and draped a blanket over Ed before leaving.

***

"Nothing the first night," Sergeant Brodger reported.

"That's fine," General Hakuro told him. "We're not expecting anything, we're just seeing if anything does happen."

"Sir."

Hakuro hung up with a sigh and scrubbed at his face; the tension was getting to him, but he didn't have any other choice. Mustang was patently unfit for another promotion, was a greedy, ambitious young son of a bitch who hadn't deserved the ranks he had already earned. And nobody else seemed to see this; he was the only one who would reveal Mustang for the type of man he was.

He'd not been sure how, for awhile; 'war crimes' had been the first to pop into mind, because Mustang was guilty of that; Hakuro had read his folder. But it would be a stupid thing to start -- if they investigated Mustang for war crimes, they'd have to investigate the rest of the damn military, Hakuro included, and he suspected that some of his own actions in Liore recently might count, depending on how loosely they were defining it.

So, then, he'd had to find something else and had found himself facing up to the fact that, to the public eye at least, Roy Mustang seemed flawless.

It was enough to make his fist itch to punch the bastard.

He'd had to dig past the public eye, to Mustang's unit, and find out rumours; it had taken a long time and more men than he'd liked to have devoted to the job, but he found out that one of (many) office betting pools was how long it'd take for Mustang to stop fighting with the Fullmetal Alchemist and start -- well.

Considering he'd been the first person the Fullmetal Alchemist had run to when he'd gotten the notes Hakuro had sent, despite professing to hate Mustang, it looked like he had a chance.

And he wouldn't let this one slip through his fingers.

***

Roy didn't get off work the next day until eight, and returned home feeling tired, body and soul. His eyes had already been strained from reading and yet all he'd had to do was paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Throughout it all, he hadn't been able to keep his mind off his own studies, which he should be doing, had to get done so he could show well for this year's assessment.

And he couldn't keep his mind off Edward, wondering how his studies were going, if the boy was damn well remembering to eat --

It had been exhausting.

The doorknob was wrenched out of his hands and Roy blinked at Ed, who grinned up at him.

"Welcome home, Colonel."

Roy blinked again, then dredged up a smile. "Thank you, Fullmetal. Were you just going out?"

"Yeah, and so were you. C'mon."

He contemplated arguing; he was exhausted, but Ed's grin was knowing and so he shrugged, sighed, followed. "Where are we going?"

"Just out back." Sure enough, Ed rounded the house and pondered Roy's back yard, then clapped his hands and turned it all to concrete.

Roy gave him a look. "I happen to have liked the view out of my back window, Fullmetal."

Ed rolled his eyes. "I'll change it back, you ass. But we can't spar on the grass without perminantly damaging it, knowing us."

"Spar?" Roy raised his hands. "I can't, Fullmetal."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "It's late, I'm tired, I have work I have to--"

"Scared?" Ed put his hands on his hips, grin broadening. "I came so damn close to beating you last time, after all."

"I assure you," Roy said, and wondered why on earth he'd been worrying about Ed earlier, "I'm hardly frightened -- I just know how to prioritize."

"C'mon." Ed hopped from one foot to the other, like he was warming up. "I've been indoors all day studying and I need some exercise. Train the body to train the mind, after all. 'Sides, you'll feel better after, too."

Roy gritted his teeth. "Fullmetal, I have no intention of--"

"Ready?" Ed clapped his hands, transmuting his automail into a solidly sharp blade. "Here I come!"

He barely dove out of the way in time and cursed as he skidded against the pavement, one hand down; Ed hadn't attempted to pull the blow at all and his sleeve showed a sharp cut in the fabric. He didn't have time to mutter something rude, though he wished he did; Ed lunged again, arm sweeping in a broad arc and Roy did a shoulder-roll out of the way, fishing his glove out of his jacket while he had his arms free. He had to kick Ed's arm to the side, feeling his legs ache from the lack of warm-up, but he had his glove on and the field was level, now.

Ed had been thrown slightly off balance by Roy's kick, and took a few staggered steps to the side to catch himself; it wasn't much of a pause, but enough that Roy could get his hand up and snap.

To his surprise, Ed seemed to have been anticipating just that; he flipped back, away from the explosion, then launched himself around from the side as the smoke was still clearing, coming in with a strong upper-cut with his flesh fist. Roy caught it and spat blood, but got his guard up in time to block the metal arm at the wrist. It hurt with an jolting ache, but he twisted, caught the arm in a lock, and put his glove hand in Ed's face.

"Fuck," Ed said, and Roy snapped.

It wasn't much of an explosion; he'd lowered the oxygen content from the normal volume he used at the last moment, and it ended up being more smoke and heat than anything else. Ed staggered back, coughing, and Roy swept a foot out to trip him.

"Surrender?" Roy suggested.

Ed grimaced. "Damn. Let's go again. Two out of three."

"Fine," Roy said, and snapped again before Ed had a chance to get up.

"You bastard!" Ed howled, scooting back on his ass as he tried to get away and pat out the flames in his hair and shirt at the same time. "You fucking asshole!"

"You started it," Roy pointed out, almost childish, following and snapping as Ed scrambled to his knees and up, dashing away. "Get back here!"

Ed got to the edge of the concrete and seemed to just drop; it took Roy half a second to realize that Ed had clapped both hands to the ground as he fell, and that was half a second too long to dodge the concrete cage that had risen around him, bars shifting to metal as he watched.

"*There*," Ed said, triumphantly. "Second win goes to m--"

Roy closed his eyes as he snapped; the explosion went up around him and he inhaled dust and smoke and the smell of metal melting. He'd cut it a little close, and his skin felt too-hot a moment, reddening, but the bars were gone.

He opened his eyes and prepared to dash through the space he'd freed and found Ed there, automail arm out to his throat.

"Second win to me," Ed said again, disgruntled.

"Technically," Roy said, mild, feeling the point of Ed's blade against his throat, "I think I won the second with that one attack right after we started; if I'd put that at full power, you'd be dead."

"Meh," Ed said, and lowered his arm. "So, do we call that a day, then?"

Roy blinked. "You're not going to protest it?"

"Would you like me to?" Ed looked at him strangely. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. But I demand a rematch tomorrow."

Roy wet his lips, tasting ash on them, and saw something unusual in Ed's eyes for a moment.

"Tomorrow?" he asked. "...very well, Fullmetal."

***

He had to get to his studies soon, he knew, but he couldn't quite settle; Ed had been right. It was invigorating to get out and do something physical. It got the blood flowing, and he thought he could sit down and work tonight, but first--

The shower was almost cool against his skin and he thought that, yes, he must have given himself faint heat burns -- it was fine, really. The faint extra-sensitivity of his skin felt almost good, if a little painful, and it was strange that the two were mutual sensations. The smoke scent was thick in his nostrils, and that sloughed away with the water as well, water and soap.

He tilted his face into the spray, and didn't tense up at the knock on the bathroom door.

"Uh, Colonel?"

He turned the water off, eyes closed as his hair dripped water in his face. "Yes, Fullmetal?"

"Are you going to be out soon? I need one too."

"In a minute, Fullmetal."

"I can wait." He heard the door close, and was surprised, distantly, as he realized that Ed had opened it to talk.

He shoved his bangs out of his face, but the bathroom was empty, and he turned the shower on again.

***

Their days seemed to fall into that habit -- Mustang would work and Edward would study, and then Mustang would return and they would spar, before they'd both return to studying until night time. They fell into an additional habit of cooking for each other, taking turns, and it was almost surprising how easily they developed a routine.

Walsh was the one on surveillance duty when the routine changed.

***

"Fullmetal, are you ready to spar?"

Ed sighed, stretching out on the couch, flesh and metal toes curling with the motion; Roy wasn't sure when, but sometime during the week he'd become comfortable enough to go about the house sockless and in his tanktop rather than his outershirt. "Nah," he said, something Roy didn't recognize in his voice. "Not today."

He couldn't help himself; he immediately began to worry. "Fullmetal, is -- something wrong?"

"Nah," Ed said, and tilted his head to look up at Roy. "Just not in the mood."

He'd been in the mood to fight for most of a week, and something didn't seem right about this. Roy hesitated, then took a seat at the other end of the sofa. "Are you sure nothing's--"

"Nosy, aren't you, shithead?" There was no heat to Ed's tone. "I'm just feeling lazy and tired."

Roy drew a slow breath and let it out, reminding himself of patience. "As you pointed out to me before, Fullmetal, sometimes a bit of physical exercise can be rejuvenating. If your studies aren't going well--"

"My studies are fine," Ed said. "All this studying, it's pointless. I know all this stuff, it's already in my head. I'm just wasting time." He sighed. "And the 'physical exercise' isn't helping, you ass."

Though he tried to control his expression, Roy knew he looked taken aback. "You, ah -- if it's harmful, why've you been insisting on it all this time?"

"It's not harmful," Ed said, scornful. "It was probably even useful. It just didn't help with what I wanted it to help with."

Roy was silent for a long moment, confused. "I -- er, Fullmetal, then--"

Ed scowled up at him, gaze fierce. "If you laugh," he swore, fervently, "then I will beat your fucking face in, Mustang."

Helpless, Roy raised both hands; Ed didn't stop scowling. "Whatever it is, I promise I won't laugh. But Fullmetal--"

"Are you sure? Because if you laugh, I could kill you." Ed sounded almost wistful. "And, hell, maybe that'd do the trick."

"I'd really rather you didn't." Roy frowned at him. "Will you please just say?"

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. "I--"

A long moment passed. Trying to be quiet and encouraging without patronizing, Roy urged, "Yes?"

"Fuck," Ed said, exhaling, then grabbed Roy by the front of the shirt and kissed him.

It hurt; Ed's teeth hit his lips and Roy scrabbled for a handhold on the back of the couch, tasting blood for a moment. It barely lasted a few seconds before Ed was shoving him away, violently.

"Fuck," Ed repeated again, sullenly, glaring at Roy and Roy's shocked expression. "That's as bad as laughing, you bastard--"

Stunned, mind swimming, Roy raised his fingers to touch his lips; they seemed to tingle strangely, as with an alchemical reaction.

"Fine, it's fine," Ed muttered, and rose. "I can move back into the dorms -- it's not a big deal, there's only a few days left and I know my shit, the notes won't be a trouble--"

Breething deeply, trying to steady his mind, Roy reached out and caught the hem of Ed's tanktop. "Fullmetal--"

Ed glared at him. "What now?"

"I hadn't--" Roy wet his lips with the tip of the tongue. "...I didn't know that you--"

"Forget it," Ed told him. "Just -- pretend it never happened. It's not worth you being an ass over it, so--"

"No," Roy told him, and tugged on the tanktop.

Ed squawked as he tumbled back against the sofa and Roy again; Roy just ducked in time to avoid being clocked by a flailing metal arm. "You bastard, look, it's not funny-!"

Nodding, Roy put his hand on the side of Ed's face and tried to hold him still as Ed started to recoil, tugging back and away. "It's not funny," he agreed. "I just didn't *know*, I thought you--"

"Thought I what?!"

"Please don't hit me," Roy murmured, and leaned in to kiss him.

Ed resisted a long moment, tense against Roy while not actually fighting back, then seemed to deflate all at once, relaxing against Roy's grip, sighing into the kiss, his mouth opening.

It felt like the type of opportunity that wouldn't come around again, not if he let it go this time, and Roy kissed him again, firmly, *knowing* it was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but maybe worth it--

Ed's arms came about him when Roy's tongue slid into his mouth and Ed murmured, his voice low, almost confused, before his tongue met Roy's, slick and tentative, rapidly gaining confidence. His fingers fisted in the back of Roy's shirt, and he sighed slowly, breath hitching as Roy pulled back, slow.

He didn't seem quite able to meet Roy's gaze, fingers tightening and loosening in his shirt, eyes off to the side a little. "I, ah--" Ed cleared his throat and tried again, still husky. "I thought maybe by fighting you more, I could think of you as an enemy again, or maybe -- at least get some of the, the, uh, urges out. Through. Fighting." Ed drew a long, slow breath, and let it out, shaking. "But it... seems I just got to know you better." Ed squinted up at him. "...bastard."

Roy couldn't quite help himself; he laughed, but despite it breaking his promise, Ed didn't seem to mind all that much. "Ah -- well, I'm glad of it? I didn't think -- I had no idea that you were, ah, interested."

"I must have been the only person you *didn't* assume it with," Ed muttered. "...shut up, I'm kissing you again."

"I," Roy said, and that's all he could get out, because Ed did as he'd said he would, arms tightening around Roy, going for him with mouth already open, tongue flicking over Roy's lips to muffle his words until Roy closed his own eyes and let Ed take his time with it, like he wanted. Ed murmured into the kiss, low, nonsense sounds, and he closed his teeth around Roy's lower lip before pulling away, letting it slide between them as they separated again.

"Let's do it," Ed muttered.

Roy blinked at him, taken aback; his women were rarely so forward, but then -- Edward wasn't most certainly a woman, and Ed was quite *definately* always forward. "Ah--"

Ed glared at him, hands sliding around Roy's shoulders to run over his chest, light, still exploring. "...Unless you got a problem with that?"

It was a bad idea, Roy thought desperately; Ed was still underage, and under his command -- even if he weren't underage, and even if he were just a soldier, it was absolutely illegal to sleep with a soldier in your command. Admittedly, Ed wasn't a normal soldier, but it was still something he could get in trouble with. He wet his lips, looked at Ed, and saw that Ed knew all that.

"No," Roy said. "I don't have a problem with it."

The smile Ed gave him was quick and sharp and absolutely pleased. "Good," Ed said. "Good, I -- uh..."

Roy couldn't keep himself from smiling a tiny smile back, and didn't try. "How would you like to do that, then?"

Ed blinked, and his gaze shifted down again, at his fingers, plucking at Roy's shirt. "I'll be on top, naturally," he said, awkward but fierce. "

Eyebrows lifting, Roy looked at him. "Naturally?"

"Of course." Ed frowned at him, cheeks red. "You think I want to give you that kind of power over me, shithead? And I am a man, of course I want that."

He's seventeen, Roy thought, ruefully. He remembered being that age, the demands of it, the needs to prove himself to the world that had sent him to the military in the first place. And more than that, he was Edward, and Ed always had made everything into a competition; of course he'd only think of the way others behaved towards him as competition as well. There was no way Roy could argue it without seeming to be trying to get the upper hand again, to gain control, to make himself dominant, and where did that fit with his demands for trust?

"All right," Roy said.

Ed's brows furrowed at once. "All right? But--"

Roy smiled at him. "I haven't had *many* men," he said. "But done right, it's not a bad feeling. I'd do that with you."

Face going red, Ed hunched his shoulders and looked up at Roy through his bangs. "...next time, you could do it to me, then."

It was probably as close to an apology for the assumption that he'd get, and Roy's smile widened a little, gentled a little. "I'd like that. Can you take some instruction?"

"Ah?"

"It can be painful if not done right," Roy said. Before Ed could do more than start to stutter a protest, he shrugged, took Ed's metal hand, and raised it to his lips. "So if you'd let me guide you, it might be easier."

He'd thought, for some reason, that Ed's pride might make him refuse, but Ed just licked his lips, watching Roy's own mouth part to take in the first joint of his automail arm. "...okay," he murmured, husky, and undid Roy's shirt, sliding his free hand over the smooth planes of Roy's chest, brushing fingers over his nipples. "Okay, that's fine."

Roy kissed him again, and Ed sighed into it, kissing back with teeth and tongue and damn, Ed was a fast learner; for some reason, Roy hadn't thought his abilities with alchemy would carry over, but they apparently did.

Ed patted his shoulder after a long moment and Roy pulled back again, licking his lips. "Roy," Ed managed. "What, ah, what do I need to do?"

"Would you like to spend some time on just this first?" Roy asked.

Ed looked at him. "...no."

Seventeen, Roy reminded himself, and nodded. With time. "All right. I need to get some oil -- give me a few minutes."

Ed nodded and didn't ask, and wasn't entirely a surprise; Ed was a scholar first and foremost, and somehow, Roy could imagine him looking these things up if he thought they were going to happen. It was a bit of a relief to think that Ed wasn't going into it entirely blind, and more that Ed was willing to accept that the books might not know everything.

The trip to the bedroom and back seemed to take an age, and finding the right oil in his bedside drawer was worse, hands fumbling. He couldn't let himself stop, couldn't let himself think, because it was still a bad idea, but it was a bad idea that had been coming a long time now, really, and a bad idea he wanted. He just had to make sure nobody found out.

His fingers closed around the jar and he let out a sigh of relief, heading back downstairs. Ed was still on the couch in the library, and had tugged his shirt off, leaving his chest bare. He looked -- not quite vulnerable; that wasn't really the word, but nervous. Tense.

Roy took a seat beside him and leaned in; Ed tilted his head up and opened his mouth, anticipating a kiss, but Roy leaned further, pressed his mouth to Ed's neck and sucked, almost gentle. Ed made a soft, startled noise, one hand coming to the back of Roy's head, and Roy slid down, mouthed at the join of automail and flesh. Ed's scars were thick under his tongue, almost waxy, and he heard Ed groan.

He sat up again and smiled crookedly at Ed; after a moment, Ed smiled back, tightly. "So, ah, Colonel--"

"'Roy' is fine." Roy handed Ed the jar and watched to see what Ed might do with it.

Ed wet his lips. "Ah... Roy. I'm, uh, going to get undressed... you?"

"Mm." Roy sloughed off his already open shirt. He didn't look up to see if Ed was watching him; he might catch Ed's gaze, and then there'd be that awkward moment, the type he was hoping to avoid. Instead, he unzipped his pants and slid out of them, stretching a bit before looking up at Ed.

He was still in his boxers, and had paused to stare at Roy; there was admiration in his eyes, more than he'd ever admit to under, Roy presumed, torture. "Ah, C... Roy," Ed corrected, quickly. "I, uh--"

"Yes," Roy said, and reached out, covered Ed's hands with his own, slid Ed's boxers down. "You too."

Ed flushed, but only shrugged in answer to that, kicking his boxers away. Ed was fully hard and not poorly-sized; Roy felt and ignored another hint of trepidition. Still, the nervousness seemed to be getting to him more than he'd have liked, and he was left only half-erect, exhaling heavily as Ed looked down at him.

"I..." Ed reached out and took him in hand, stroking him quickly, and Roy's breath hissed out between his teeth; that was enough to do it. "...I've done this before, at least." To himself, he didn't say, and didn't need to; Roy'd heard enough from his agents reports to know that Ed had hardly had *time* to meet people, and wasn't really the type for one night stands, moreover.

Groaning low, Roy put a hand on Ed's hip, felt the flesh twitch under his hand. "And you're good at it," he said honestly, hips twitching, thrusting shallowly into Ed's grip.

"I, uh, want--" Ed seemed to remember the jar in his other hand and let go of Roy to fumble with it, getting open, spilling a little on the carpet as he went. "Can I--"

"Yes," Roy said, and let his face grow serious again, twisting to bend over the couch. "Start with just one finger, please; it's been a very long time since I've had another man."

Ed hesitated, and Roy closed his eyes, guessing that Ed was mentally arguing whether he should withdraw the demand, offer to let Roy do him instead. Roy knew what would win out; Ed had, after all, already made this a matter of pride, and Roy was putting up no resistance.

Sure enough, a moment later, a slick finger touched him. Roy exhaled slowly and waited, letting his legs open wider; Ed's metal hand curled under his balls, carefully light and almost shockingly chill. Roy jerked, breath whistling out between his teeth.

"Is this okay?" Ed asked, voice low and husky.

"Go ahead," Roy said, and pressed his forehead into the back of the couch as Ed pushed his finger in, moving slower and with more care than Roy had expected, almost gentle. He sighed, arching his back into it, then reached back to touch Ed's arm as Ed started to pull it out. "No, wait a moment -- let me adjust."

Ed made a low noise of agreement, though Roy could hear him breathing hard. He waited another long few moments, then shifted his finger in a brief thrust, other hand fondling Roy's balls.

"Nice," Roy murmured thickly. "Good, Fullmetal. Slowly out, then -- two."

There was a moment of silence as Ed pulled his finger free, then: "...'Ed' is fine, Roy."

Roy groaned as Ed pressed two in, still moving slow. "Yes," he managed, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Of course." Ed held his hand still, and Roy found desire burning in his stomach, damned himself, and shifted back against Ed.

Ed's noise of surprise behind him was as much arousal as surprise. "C... Roy, ah--"

"Two is enough," Roy said, and licked his lips. "But put some of the oil on yourself, and go slow."

Fingers pulling free maybe a bit too quickly, Ed's nod was something Roy felt more than saw. "Yeah, I -- yeah, if you say so, whatever you say--"

And then blunt pressure, and a burning heat as much pain as anything else. Roy pressed his forehead into the back of the couch, gritting his teeth, and felt Ed hesitate, though less out of concern than for what seemed to be a logistical problem.

Too short, Ed couldn't quite reach the back of the couch around Roy's bent body; his hands searched down Roy's arms and came to his forearms, gripping hard there as he tried to brace himself, pressing the head of his cock in.

"No, it--" There was no way to say it that wouldn't upset Ed and ruin the mood, so Roy just exhaled, inhaled again, and said: "Full... Ed, I've an idea -- pull out, it's--"

"Sorry," Ed muttered, stepping back and flushing; he'd tensed up completely and Roy sank down, turned, leaned up to kiss him.

It was a good ten seconds into the kiss before Ed relaxed again, and Roy put his hands on Ed's shoulders, eased him down. "Easy," Roy murmured. "I've got an idea."

Ed let Roy press him back until he was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped against the arm. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it would be better, Roy thought, and swung one leg over Ed to straddle him.

Blinking up at him, Ed put his hands on Roy's hips. "Is, uh, this okay?"

"We'll see?" Roy said. There was a hint of wryness in his voice, and it seemed to do its job; Ed smiled back and relaxed faintly, just watching as Roy tucked one leg, bent, into the edge of the sofa's seat and it's back, and pressed the other to the floor. The angle was awkward at best, and Roy had to put one hand on the sofa's back, gripping hard so he could lean back far enough and not lose his balance, but it worked and he sank down slowly onto Ed.

Ed's fingers tightened helplessly on Roy's hips, and the metal hand, at least, would be leaving bruises. A strangled groan ripped from his throat and Roy didn't dare echo it, for fear it would come out too thin. Teeth gritted, he sank down all the way, hand tightening further on the back of the sofa, and waited.

Relax, he told himself, and the fact that Ed hadn't started to move yet, was shaking with effort but holding himself back -- that fact helped. He breathed deep, holding it for a few seconds before releasing, and one of Ed's hands slid around, took hold of his erection, and pumped.

Roy groaned and found himself relaxing further; gave Ed a tight, thin smile. Ed's own smile back had teeth in it, and he pumped again.

"Can I move?" Ed asked, and his voice was nearly indecipherable with its huskiness. "Now?"

Shifting, he found himself aching and breathless but able to; the ache was more lingering stretch and burn than anything else and he nodded, swallowed. "Please. Go ahead."

Ed's head thumped back against the couch arm and he groaned out an absolutely unrecognizable reply, hips shifting, tentatively at first, then rapidly picking up speed and strength.

Roy's breath strangled and he arched into a better angle, groaned as sparks flashed to life at the base of his spine. Ed's hand was still working on him, fast and hard and sure, palm sweating, and Roy rose up against Ed's thrusts, sank down against them again. He couldn't breathe; Ed was jostling the breath out of him, and he found himself gasping, trying to get enough breath into him.

"God," Ed groaned, and there was something stunned in your voice. "You, it's, I hadn't expected--"

"Yes," Roy managed, faint, shifting back against him again, teeth gritted. The burn of it was almost entirely fading into sparks, growing hot and fast, curling inside him. "It is."

"I," Ed said, and his hand sped up on Roy. He was licking at his own mouth in between gasps, eyes a bit wild, face flushed. "Hurry--"

Roy groaned again, rising and falling against Ed, closing his eyes and letting control drop away. Faster, harder, and there, a starburst as his spine went up in flames, as his insides crisped and he felt his entire body jerk with the force of it, semen spattering Ed's chest. Ed let out a low, strangled shout, and arched, thrusting once, again, a third time, a fourth; they fed the flames exploding behind Roy's eyelids and he tried to get in enough air around the dazed rush of it, as heat spread and Ed thumped back against the sofa, wheezing.

He breathed through the aftershocks, eyes closed. It took him a few long moments before he could pry his eyelids open, and another few before he could unclench his fingers from the back of the couch. Beneath him, Ed was sprawled back, drenched with sweat, hair darkened from it and sticking to his face.

I've wanted this for a long time, he admitted to himself, and rose off Ed so he could lean over and kiss him.

"Mmph," Ed told him, slowly. He reached up and put his arm around Roy's shoulders, hand tracing a slow, unsteady path down his spine. "...thanks."

"And you," Roy murmured, finding his voice creaky.

Ed's brows creased, briefly. "...tired."

"Yes," Roy agreed, lips twisting up.

For a moment, Ed looked surprisingly young, perhaps even his age. "...can I come to your bed?"

"Yes," Roy said again, and rose, unsteady for a long moment, then offered his hand. "More comfortable."

Ed's smile wasn't soft; he wouldn't be Edward if it were. But it was mild, and real. "Yeah," he said, and took Roy's hand. "...next time, you can top. If you want."

Next time.

Roy smiled back. "We'll see how we feel when we get to it, I imagine."

***

Walsh put the binoculars down and swallowed around his dry throat; he felt sick, nauseous, not so much because of what he had observed as because he had observed it. It had been a private event, not meant for a third person to see any of, and it wasn't what the General had thought it would be.

There was no abuse of power there, no seduction -- it had even been the boy to initiate everything he'd seen. It was fraternization, and all those other things, but it wasn't the spirit of them, just the letter, and none of those were more illegal than entrapment.

But orders were orders.

He worried at it all the way to the phonebooth, images burned onto his eyes of things he shouldn't have seen, stomach rolling.

The phone rang once, twice, then connected.

"Lieutenant? Your report?"

He couldn't answer for a long moment, panicking over how to say it, what to do.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sorry," he muttered. "Someone was, ah, passing by; I couldn't talk."

It was the first lie he'd told the General, and surprisingly easy.

"Ah. Well, then, your report?"

He licked his lips, knew he wasn't allowed another hesitation, and orders were orders, but--

"Nothing the eighth night," he said, and sagged against the back of the phonebooth.

"Still?"

Walsh let his eyes close, felt his shoulders relax. "No," he said. "No new developments at all."

***

"So, how'd you do?"

Ed looked up from slowly packing his bag. Roy had turned down the option to assess Ed's performance; he'd been a mentor long enough that he felt he couldn't do a properly unbiased job, he'd said.

"Good," Ed told him. "Y'know. Got an upgrade to my Certification."

"I figured you would," Roy said, smiling faintly.

Ed shrugged at him. "What about you?"

Roy told him.

"A promotion?" Ed's eyebrows shot up. "What the fucking hell, they're going to run out of ranks to promote you too, you bastard."

"That's the plan," Roy said, smirking. "It's very encouraging."

"I'm sure," Ed said, dry, and paused with one of his texts in his hand. "Uh, Roy."

Roy leaned back against one wall. "Mm?"

"I was wondering if you'd mind if I stayed?"

"...Edward?"

Ed hunched his shoulders, putting the book firmly back on the coffee table. "I mean, I can still make a good excuse for it with the letters I'd got, and getting accustomed to it in the last few weeks, and if you're getting promoted, they'll probably give you an even larger fucking residence, and I bet that'll have a spare room, so nobody would have to know."

Relaxing for the first time since Ed had started to pack, Roy straightened again, going over to put a hand on Ed's back. "I'd be quite happy to have you."

Ed's smile wasn't quite visibly relieved. "...Yeah, okay. Good."

"Mm," Roy agreed, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of Ed's head.

"Because, uh, you know..."

Roy quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Ed grinned at him, showing a glitter of teeth. "I've grown kind of attached to your library."