Roy Mustang was a selfish man and he knew it. The proof was relaxing in between his legs.
The evidence was in each kiss; in each caress of his hand; in each whispered word; in each wicked gleam in his golden eyes; in each bright smile; in each laugh—it all ensnared him. And Roy knew he shouldn't keep him, but he couldn't bear to let Edward Elric go.
Mustang ran his fingers through the loose, blond hair thrown over his partner's shoulder. After raking through the silky tresses again, he reached up into the boy's scalp and began massaging it.
"Mmm," hummed Ed sleepily. Yawning softly, he slumped against the older man.
"Feel good?" asked Roy as he rubbed tiny, soothing circles against Elric's head.
In answer, Edward twisted his neck to the side, then pressed his lips against the other's pale cheek.
The kiss burned Mustang's skin, searing its way down his spine. He cupped his young lover's jaw before placing his lips—which were always surrendered—against those of the one he feels guilty for calling his own.
"What was that for?"
Ed shrugged. "For being a bastard," he murmured in a smitten tone. A shy grin lit up his face, and a charming blush blossomed on his cheeks.
The sight was instantly imprinted in Roy's mind.
With a contented sigh, the teen shifted against his body. Mustang's hands traveled down Edward's sides until his arms wrapped around his waist. He kissed his companion's shoulder as he pulled him closer. A head full of blond hair tipped back and rested in the crook of his neck.
A comfortable silence settled between the two while they stared at the fire burning in the hearth, its bright flames flickering against the cool sheen of sweat layered over their bodies. It was moments like these when Roy's thoughts began to churn.
Perhaps he should be ashamed of the words that are never spoken, yet whispered in the dark with every touch; with every kiss; with every fierce embrace. The silent conveyance of his adoration—of his devotion—for the young man cradled in his arms flooded his entire being and electrified him from head to toe. Mustang often wondered whether or not it was enough for Edward to remain by his side.
The teen staying, but never truly leaving, led to the idea that maybe Roy was snatching something away—an opportunity; a future; a love life with someone much younger than he. Miss Winry Rockbell flashed to the forefront of his mind.
Each time they met with the young woman for one reason or another, Mustang could see it: the swift fury that crashes behind her sky blue eyes; the heartache that thunders through every vein; the hatred that she quietly feels toward him; the pain she endures knowing that he has a love she'll never possess; the hope that one day her prayers would be answered: Edward would finally leave him, and never look back. The mere possibility scorched Roy's nerves and spiked his anxiety.
A warm hand pressed against his cheek. He glanced down to find the teen peeking up at him beneath a cocked eyebrow.
"Stop it," ordered Edward. "I can literally feel you thinking too hard, old man."
Mustang's brow shot up. "Old man?" he echoed. Reaching up, he wrapped a finger in a cluster of the other's golden hair and playfully tugged on it. "I see no old men in the vicinity."
The teen's hand trailed down the side of Roy's face before settling it on the older man's thigh. With the pad of his thumb, Ed began rubbing tiny circles on his inner knee.
"Does 'sexy old man' make you feel less old?" asked Elric.
"I'm unwilling to contend with the truth in regard to my high level of attractiveness. We'll settle the argument as to whether or not I'm indeed 'old' later."
Edward's snort trailed off into a light laugh. It was a sound that Roy irrevocably found endearing; he frequently reveled in it.
"Oh, yeah?"
In answer, Mustang kissed the side of his temple. He then pressed his lips against Ed's ear and whispered something that elicited another giggle and warm cheeks.
After that, another round of silence fell between them. Roy tightened his hold around the other's waist, pulling him flush against his chest. He stared into the fire, watching the flames dance violently, yet serenely. Once again, his thoughts drifted of their accord and he was plagued with the uncertainty that he was characteristically a master at concealing.
His mind pondered back to the days when Edward had no choice but to go to him each time he called; he had been on a leash that Roy took smug satisfaction in pulling. Years had passed since the last time he tugged on that chain, but he wondered if a new one had taken its place; one he had no right to own; one that may be better handled by someone else—one which forced him to consider the possibility that that was the only reason why the teen was there with him, rather than going to him of his own volition.
The warm body shifting in his arms left his heart pounding, fluttering in his chest.
Edward turned around to face Roy, mindful of his automail leg; it wouldn't have been the first time it rendered the man unconscious. He resituated himself between the other's spread legs before wrapping his own around his waist. He reached up into Mustang's dark hair and began running his fingers through it.
"You're gonna give yourself gray hair if you keep it up," he murmured. "Then I'll have to start fending off crazy old ladies with sticks and bad perfume. And maybe hose them down with some prune juice."
Roy placed his hands on the teen's hips, and ran them up and down his sides.
"I do believe that's one of your more terrible ideas," he stated with a lazy smile.
The golden eyes staring up at him glittered with amusement. "Well, they can't have ya. Might as well have some fun lettin' the wacky bats know you're mine."
"Oh, am I?" whispered Roy.
Ed's answering grin was victoriously wicked, and possessively all-knowing.
The sight laced a collar of his heart's own making around Roy's neck and tightened, its leash drawing him closer and—
"I love you," he confessed.
Edward's face burst into a brilliant shade of scarlet, and the color darkened as his grin grew into a dazzling smile, and all of Roy's doubts and worries vanished.
"Oh, yeah?"
Leaning forward, Mustang kissed the tip of the teen's nose, which rapidly scrunched up in a pantomime 'ew' expression when he pulled away. The corner of his lips twitched into a lopsided smile as the quietly muttered, "so gross," met his ears.
Ed huffed out a dramatic sigh, blowing his bangs from his forehead. "I guess that means you're stuck with me," he informed Mustang. "'Cause I love you, old man." He smiled sweetly.
Without warning, Roy slapped the blond's bare rear end, taking in silent satisfaction in his yelped, "ow!"
"Who are you calling 'old man'?" he grumbled.