(A/N):Hello all! To begin I'd like to tell this is my first fic, my first fanfic, English is not my native language (I truly began to learn it only three years ago), so please, please, be indulgent.^^ And if possible, don't ask why I choose to write my first fic in English instead of French, I think I don't even know that myself...

Feel free to give suggestions, and to point my mistakes if you want to, it helps a lot.

FMA does not belong to me. If it were mine, Hohenheim and Bradley senior would've had an history together. A reaaally kinky one.

Yaoi, with lemon in some chapters, and Mpreg. RoyxEd. And AU, of course. Now you know.

I originally wanted to avoid OOC as much as possible, but... Oh well... It can be fun too.

This story follow the manga, except that Ed has still his automail arm and his alchemy.

I'll try differents POV later.

I hope you'll enjoy it.

(^^)

Edward could't believe it. It was a joke. It has to be a joke. A fucking-stupid-bad-joke.

But, faced with the plain reality, he was forced to admit the truth:

He, Edward Elric, the famous Fullmetal Alchemist, hero of the people, was getting FAT.

Trying once again to close-up his leather pants, without success, Ed let out a heavy sigh and sat on his bed, burying his face onto his hands.

Lately, everything was going slightly wrong, anyway. He was still stuck with the military (he really should have paid more attention to the contract), Al, his beloved little brother, was becoming more and more independant (a good thing, really, but still not a pleasant feeling), and there also was this weird stomach bug he had contracted weeks ago which was still lingering a little...

But if he had to make a list of the number of bad things in his life theses days, he had to start with the shitty colonel, and put him on top.

Edward grimaced at the thought, remembering that the older man was definitely on top a few months ago, after that mandatory party, the birthday for some big-shot general Ed had never even met before.

But why did he have to drink so much? And why, oh WHY, did he have to enjoy "it" so much? It was Mustang we're talking about, the one famous for his "I don't refuse anyone who come, but I don't chase anyone who leave either", so its not like Ed hadn't know what would happen after the fun, but still...

He didn't want to remember.

Each time he did, his heart was squeezed into a tight knot, his head became fuzzy, and his eyes became... kind of damp. But there was also a sweet tickling on his skin, a heat spreading trough all his body, and he shivered as he recalled the warm, playful hands, the soft kisses, and after... Ed's body could't help but react.

Pathetic.

He had knew since the day his hormones shoot up for the first time, that he was finished. Each time he was standing in this office, with the bastard in front of him, he became more and more aware of his body, his heart was always threatening to jump out of his chest, and each new meeting with "him" was an all-out war against himself, in order to hide his body reactions. He had realized that there was no cure for him.

Except, maybe, a good shot from doctor Roy. The teen let out a growl. Until the party, he could only dream about it, and he was satisfied with that.

No. He had successfully convinced himself that he had to be satisfied with that. But at least he was still in control of his feelings. Almost.

And after the party, it was like he could'nt even breath whitout this man's touch. And he was NOT satisfied with what he had. Not anymore. Because he knew how it actually felt. He was addicted.

"I'll never get drunk again." Ed groaned, as he clasped his hand together, stretching his pants with a little flash of light.

Naturally, Al choose this moment to step into the room (they were still lodging at the military dorm), and, seeing what his brother was doing, he let slip a little laugh.

"That's what you get for eating all theses weirds stuffs!"

"Oh thanks, Al, like I need gastronomy lessons from my little brother", he answered sarcastically. "And you have weird eating habits too, for what I can say."

"Really? Like what?", asked Al, whith a hint of curiosity and maybe, noted Ed, another of worry in his voice.

"You always eat out. Even thought you have homemade lunches from your girlfriend. This is odd", stated the older Elric with a scowl.

"Ah, well... "Al blushed slightly and started to shift his weight to one foot to another, uneasy. He didn't want anybody to find out that he couln't stomach theses lunches, so he was eating alone and feeding himself with sanwiches everydays, letting the lunches be the happiness of some strays dogs. At least the ones who were really, really hungry.

Winry was a fine mechanic, the best, really, but her cooking skills were... well, experimental. And Al was too nice, and mostly too scared, to confess the truth to her.

If Ed found that out, he was in big trouble. he really was in the worst mood ever, theses days. With his current, snappy weird mood, his reaction would surely be something like "You-have-a-girlfriend-who-make-lunches-just-for-you-the-least-you-can-do-is-eat-it-all" while he'll forcefully stuff his brother's mouth whith the said lunch. Luckily, Ed didn't seem to want to pry too much, as he was busy adjusting his newly stretched pants. After a last look in the mirror next the door, Ed had a slight nod, satisfied.

Since when was Edward paying so much attention to his appearance? Al was still wondering about all the littles changes with his brother, as they got out of the dorm. Maybe he was finally reaching the real teenage days? Ed always had been too mature for his age. He seemed childish, but the ones who knew him could figure out it was just a side of him. But now, he was free of the burden of retrieving his little brother's body, and he could enjoy his youth for the first time in years. Yes. It must be that.

Furthermore, he was smitten. This kind of thing must be unsettling for him. Of course, Al knew about his brother crush on the Brigadier-General Mustang (even if Ed still called him shitty colonel), how could he have ignored it when Ed was moaning his name in his sleep? Al smiled as a safety plan formed in his mind.

If Edward was to find out about the lunches, he had blackmail material to pressure him and made him give up. Relieved, he waved happily at his brother, who was heading to the headquarters, himself taking the direction of the library.

Ed made sign absentedly to his little brother, already focused on the meeting to come. He had just finished a mission, and of course, the bastard wanted a written report and a spoken one. He was sure that the Brigadier-General was just doing that to make his blood boil. He sighed, as the painful memory of their last encounter came back to him.

After they slept together at the party, Ed had been sick the next day with a hellish hangover, and busy after that, as Winry came to visit and check his automail. When at least he found the time to go face him, he was ready for any kind of rejection. He knew fully well how the man managed his dates, and braced himself in order to not show any sign of pain. But what he knew too was that Mustang had felt as good as him that night, and maybe Ed could pull something nice out of this. Even if this was just sex to Roy, it had been awesome sex and he intended to make a point of that. He'll take all he could.

So, Ed had cut past trough the first office, pretending to have some corrections to add to his last report in order to ease the suspiscious look in Hawkeye eyes, who was firmly believing that he was just here to pick a fight. This wasn't false either. If he could, he always picked a fight. Hiding his feelings was easier this way. Ed had entered his superior's office with his usual energy, scruting his face, expecting a least a little nervous sign from him.

But, nothing.

Mustang's expression hadn't shown anything. He was sitting as usual behind his desk, and had looked fairly surprised to see the young alchemist pass his door. Like he didn't expect him. Ed had begun to get really annoyed. Did the older man's intention was to pretend nothing happened? Like a mistake? It was very childish of him. But still, he played his part very well, Ed had thought. He had stopped here, debating about how to make Roy drop the mask, until the Brigadier-General noticed something highly interesting about the young man. It had looked like Mustang could't stop himself:

"Is that a hickey on your neck, Fullmetal? How kinky! Who is the lucky little lady?"

Edward didn't know which was worst: The fact that Mustang really didn't remember anything about that night, or the fact that he seemed genuinely happy to tease his subordinate about his love life.

Not bothered at all.

He had no recollection of how he sorted himself out of this situation. Ed had got trough the next three days in a storm of conflicting emotions, letting his body habits taking control of his daily life, while he was desperately trying to get back his sanity.

But then again, maybe I'd never been sane, pondered the young Alchemist, as he reminded himself that someone who had tried to bring back dead people to life, not just wish about it, but actually tried it, was definitely not someone with a healthy mind.

And there he was again. The dreaded door leading to Mustang's office was in front of him, so imposing. "I would never had thought that I would be afraid of another door other than the big one with the truth thing", Ed muttered. He took an deep inspiration and pushed the heavy wood panel.

He crossed quickly the first office, giving a sign to Fuery and Breda, who where very focused on a beetle race (of course Hawkeye wasn't here), and banged the Brigadier General's office door open.

"As always you make a graceful entrance, Fullmetal. Did you bring a readable report, this time?" The older man was sitting comfortably in his chair, ankles crossed and the foots on his desk, holding a cup of coffee .

"Don't make excuses, if you can't read it, it's just that it's time for you to put on glasses, old man", Ed retorted, just before the image of Roy with a pair of glasses imposed on his mind, making him flush a little. Oh, no. Not again. He looked away, threw the report next Mustang's foots, and threw himself on the couch. He just knew it was going to be draining.

"Well, you can start by telling me why it did take you so much time, just to catch a third-rate Alchemist? I heard you ran off the fight, Fullmetal. Was he so much more stronger than you?"

"If you already know what happened, why do you ask for a report?" Ed growled. "And I didn't lose. I just made a strategic retreat. I won after that"

It was just that he hadn't been feeling well, so he had to slow down a bit. But don't count on Mustang for accepting an excuse like this one. He wouldn't have done it himself, after all.

"I guess so. Well a least you repaired the damages. But you know, Fullmetal, you could do it with more modest garnishement, we had complaints for that too. Just repair. No flourish. Please.

'No. Wait:

Just don't destroy anything."

"Fire me if your are so tired of it. I can live without the pocket watch, me", answered a slightly vexed alchemist.

"No way. You're too fun to bully. And anyway, I already have a new assignement for you."

Ed glanced at Mustang, something he had avoided until now. The black haired man had a big grin on his face. The 'you're gonna hate it, I'll love it', kind of grin. And of course, this devilish look was awfully sexy. He quivered. It was so unfair. No matter how much Ed tried to fight him, to hate him, he just wanted to touch him. Breathe him. His body ached to feel him again. He wanted him to smile at him again like that. It's plain bullying and I love it. How low can I fall?

The Brigadier cut his thoughts:

"-We're going to Xing."

"..."

"Fullmetal?"

"What do you mean, "We"?"Ed growled

"Well, you and me. We're leaving in two weeks", smiled Mustang.

"I am not going anywhere with you. I refuse. And what's the job?"

"You're definitely going with me. And this is just a diplomatic meeting."

'Be happy, Amestris is sending us as representatives. Even if I still don't understand why they choose you, considering your obvious lack of tact." Roy looked pretty excited about this assignement, and Ed could see clearly why. 'No more paperwork' was written on his forehead.

Ed sighed heavily and stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait a moment", asked Roy, suddenly serious. "I'm not done yet."

"Be quick. I'm tired."

"The thing is, this is actually a pretty important meeting, and like I said, you lack certain... qualities , so it has been decided that you will move to my house and live here starting today. I'm going to drill some good manners into your little head."

'I guess It's all for the better, since I heard that Al is leaving for Resembool with Winry tomorrow. Am I wrong?"Mustang's grin was only getting bigger.

Edward was speechless. And utterly furious. And feverish.'If I kill him now, I'll feel soo much better' He couldn't stop himself from feeling this way. But still. He wanted that. To be in his house. Looking at a Roy wearing casual clothes. Does he cook? Ed wanted to know. A whole house filled with his smell. How was he in the morning? The teen's imagination started to run wild. Roy in a shower. Roy sleeping. Roy cooking. Roy cooking with an apron. Roy cooking with only an apron.

No. NoNoNoNoNo. He could'nt do this. He wasn't going to do that. It was impossible. Physically, mentally, impossible.

Ed inspired, bracing himself for a new fight, when

"-BANG!

'BANG!"

"NNOOooooo! I was winn-BANG!"

Suddenly, Roy was sitting straight, his hands and eyes moving at an inhuman speed while browsing and signing the documents piled on his desk.

"I'll wait for you this evening, Fullmetal. And this is an order." finished Mustang with a definite tone, without raising his head.

(OxO)

(A/N):So, what do you think?

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, if you like it, please tell me, it will push me to write a second one faster. (I am a lazy person, but pressure work well on me. Flattery and bribery too, by the way.)