Roy closed his eyes, his nose against the crook of her hot neck. Blond hair tickled his forehead as he thrusted into her sweet body. Blinding pleasure brought her to grasp his shoulders and leave bruises. He was much gentler, preferring to keep his arm wrapped around her waist to keep their skin in contact. She moaned in his ear, and he felt her tighten around him as she orgasmed for the third time that night. It didn't take long for him to release afterward. Despite his weak muscles, he kept himself from slumping on top of her and slowly slid out of her.
Her breath was still hot, and his own as heavy as hers. He rolled over, and she lay there, watching him with the wrong set of eyes. Roy rolled off the bed, and removed the condom with care, quickly disposing of it in the small trash can she kept in her room, mostly for tissues when she was sick. She whispered, "Roy, come back to bed." He turned around and smirked at her, crawling wordlessly back onto the bed. She situated herself according to how he lay down, on his side facing her.
She pressed her forehead against his chest, and he absently sifted through her hair so he could pretend this was who he wanted to be sleeping with. Long, blond hair... That's what had gotten his attention at the bar, of course. The hair. She'd turned around, laughing, and ruined his illusion that he'd seen who he wanted. She had the same sun-kissed skin, and calloused hands without long nails. He'd paid attention to those things, even her confident and benevolent nature. She wasn't as brash, or loud, or fiery, but it had been worth it.
A slow sense of hollowness returned to his chest, and throbbed a little with every heartbeat. This wasn't who he wanted. She'd been fierce, and this had been the best sex he'd had in a long time, but this wasn't what he wanted. He'd wake up in the morning, use her shower, and never see her again - because he didn't want her. With everything else, he'd been able to fool himself. She had relatively small breasts, and her hips weren't incredibly wide. She was fit, and he'd never much paid attention to the automail, so it was easy to ignore the fact she didn't have any. But her eyes were all wrong - a light, playful green. Not hard, fierce gold. But he'd have to stick with these people, wrong and fleeting, because what he wanted - who he wanted - was out of his reach. And that's why he ached.
He didn't know how long he lay there beside this stranger, feeling empty. He knew, however, that by the time he stood up, his sweat was stale and dry on his skin, and that his partner was fast asleep.
Ed stared up at the sky. The black canvas was speckled with smallish white things. He wasn't a fan of stargazing in the freezing cold, surrounded by snow. Well, he kind of was. It was nostalgic when he did it with Al, but it always made him contemplative, and he didn't necessarily like that. When he was a kid, even when he was fifteen, it had been a good way to reflect on who he was or to think clearly on a problem. Now, though, settled into this military routine, waiting for the day his contract terminated, his thoughts always turned to things he'd rather avoid thinking about. But tonight, it seemed unavoidable.
Staring at the stars was only a slightly better alternative to lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the same things. These spells only happened occasionally. In fact, he would even consider them rare. He was smart, and liked to think, so it was bound to happen sometimes. He would think about something he'd been avoiding and skirting around for years. He knew himself pretty well, and knew it was unlike him to avoid something instead of take it head on, but this was not something he was willing to gamble on. Besides, he was older. He had to start taking precautions sometime.
Hands in his pockets, he kept walking. He didn't know where he was going, really. His feet kept moving while his brain whirled around this subject he liked to avoid. Only when he walked into something did he remove his gaze from the stars, and he was walking pretty slowly. He was wondering what Roy Mustang was doing tonight. The only reason he even wondered centered around what would be occurring the next day - Valentine's Day. He wouldn't have even known tomorrow was Valentine's Day, except that Al had mentioned it on the phone while simultaneously asking about his love life. Ed had replied curtly and ended that conversation quickly.
And so, Ed had been forced into thinking about this subject that he didn't want to broach. Roy Mustang. What was Roy doing right now? Screwing a girl? Drinking himself into oblivion? Both? His breath rose in a swirling mist, a stark contrast against the black sky. What was he going to do about Roy? When he'd first asked himself this question, he'd been sure it was a fleeting crush. The man was a sex god, never mind how intelligent and strong he was, or how just his presence was a safe haven. It was three years later, and the question remained. He couldn't say it was exactly an obsession, either. He could go days without thinking about Roy, but when he did... His chest squeezed.
Yes, the man was infuriating. But that wasn't the only aspect of his personality, that mocking, authoritative attitude. He was more than that. And it was special to know someone who instantly made him feel safe. Alphonse was like that, but then again, Ed didn't want to screw Al. Just someone reliable, who would watch his back without questions. And then there was the fact Roy knew him. Knew his transgressions, knew his darkest secrets, knew him as a person. It was pretty rare to find someone who understood him so well, too.
If he felt so strongly, why didn't he act on his feelings? Well, to begin with, Roy was pretty straight. Secondly, if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't return Ed's feelings. Thirdly, if Roy did reciprocate Ed's feelings, he would still reject Ed because of his career. His ambitious goals of becoming Fuhrer. Even as these reasons went through Ed's mind, he knew he was making excuses. He knew why he really didn't want to confront Roy with his feelings, and it was not because he was afraid of rejection, which all of those were related to. He knew that an objective part of his brain saw his situation and whispered the truth. I don't want to hurt him, if things turn out for the worse.
He couldn't protect Al from that, because Al was his brother and it was useless to fight genetics. But if he could save Roy from the inevitable pain that comes from being close with someone, then he would. The pain always came, somehow. He didn't think he could be close to Roy, and not make the man regret it. He didn't know how Al didn't regret their relationship, after convincing him to perform human transmutation...
Ed sighed and the mist rose into the sky once more. He'd delved into these thoughts, but they just brought him in circles. If he wasn't going to act on his feelings, what could he do about Roy Mustang? Because he was not happy with the way things were. Going into work, wanting to touch him, looking to anger for a distraction, coming home to a cold bed and eating alone. He used to share the flat with Al, but Al had left to marry Winry a long time ago. Back then, it had been easy to ignore how lonely he was. Now, though... it stared him in the face every time he came home. He'd have to deal with it, though, because he couldn't act on his feelings. He was strong enough to get through it.
But... through to what? When was it going to end?
The cold made his automail heavy. He turned his head from the sky to the street. It was time to go back. He stopped outside an apartment building, and turned around to head back. He couldn't make himself walk forward, retrace his steps. The thought of going back... cold bed... eating alone... But what choice did he have? It wasn't like he could walk all night, or go to Roy's house. An even worse question arose when he gathered the courage to step forward. Where am I?
He pressed his lips together firmly. He was lost.
He barely contained his fury. His blood boiled. He clenched his jaw, and his fists. He curled his toes and tried his hardest not to scream in frustration and break something. Instead, he settled on lamely kicking the building beside him, not even very hard. It occurred to him that his anger might be unprecedented, but he knew what he was angry about. "I fuckin' hate myself sometimes," he grumbled, and kicked the building again. He didn't really mean that he hated himself. Instead, he meant he was angry at himself - for being weak concerning Roy, for getting himself lost, for letting Al's innocent questions make him react so strongly...
"Edward," a voice spoke. The syllables were half exclamation, half question. Ed snapped his head up and stared at Roy. His gaze hardened on the man, as his emotions returned tenfold. Roy stood by the doorway of the apartment building, several feet away, eyes wide in shock, and hair mussed. He was wearing a jacket, but Ed could see the smaller details. His shirt was wrinkled, and not buttoned all the way, accented by the fact he hadn't closed his jacket, either. He'd obviously been in a hurry, since he hadn't even buttoned his pants.
They stared at each other for a long moment, while both of them saw their options laid out before them. What could Ed say to that ruffled, sexy visage when he was so angry and simultaneously infatuated? Disgruntled, and anger somewhat suffused from the sight, Ed crossed his arms. "What?" he snapped.
Roy blinked a couple times and opened his mouth to respond, but clearly thought better of it, as he stopped, and didn't speak until after an awkward silence. "I didn't expect to see you, that's all. I can leave you alone. I didn't mean to disturb your walk." Roy returned his attention to himself, and buttoned his pants as he walked down the steps from the exit of the apartment building. Ed realized with a grimace that Roy was his way out of this dump, wherever it was.
"I don't care," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, portraying aloofness. How to ask Roy for help? Damn it! He hated asking for help. Roy looked up from fixing his shirt, and stopped on the sidewalk, examining Ed slowly. The blond was in his usual outfit, facing his own footprints. Ed looked pretty unhappy, and really cold, judging by the shade of his cheeks and the tensed muscles. But why was Ed facing his footprints?
"Walk me home, then," Roy demanded, finishing up his buttons. "I could use a little company." He approached Ed, and saw the blond roll his eyes. Clearly, Roy had just had a little 'company.' But Ed didn't complain, much to Roy's surprise, but only because he knew the way home from Roy's house, but not from where they currently were. Ed turned around and they walked in silence for a long moment. Eventually, Roy asked, "What brought you to the neighborhood?"
Ed shrugged nonchalantly, watching the scenery, and kicking chunks of ice occasionally. "Dunno. I was... just walking." He bit his tongue on anything else he might have wanted to say. That was vague enough, and hopefully Roy wouldn't push any further. To his relief, the man in question hummed in understanding, and the walk continued toward the Brigadier General's home. Ed realized his earlier question had been answered; he knew what Roy had been up to. Getting laid, as expected. "What about you?" Ed asked, "Wasn't your date impressed, or weren't you?"
Roy barked out a short laugh, and Ed noted the sardonic smirk on his face. "No," he answered wryly, "We liked each other well enough." He remembered the reason he'd chosen to bring her to bed. Her hair... He met Ed's gaze briefly. "I didn't come over to sleep, though, and she was quite tired." Ed snorted at the obvious implication that he'd made her tired. With sex. It was pretty late, so they must have been at it for a few hours if they'd had dinner around seven, and walked to her apartment...
"Seems kind of heartless to leave so quickly after, though," Ed remarked absently, actually thinking about what obscene things Roy did with that girl. What did she look like? What was she like in bed? Did Roy actually enjoy himself? Roy, on the other hand, listened to Ed's observation, and took the offhand remark to heart. He let it swirl around for a hot minute, feeling a little guilty and a little embarrassed.
"I think she'll understand," he assured himself out loud, and added in a mutter, more to himself than Edward, "and if she doesn't, I don't really care. I'm not going to see her again." He mentally shook those thoughts away and looked at Ed, who was currently scowling. "Is everything okay?" he asked, unsure of what to make of Ed's fierce expression.
Ed huffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "It's fine. I was just..." he trailed off, uncertain that he could answer that question honestly. He'd been thinking about that girl, and admittedly felt very sour toward her, but then Roy had spoken and a sort of satisfaction had swept through him. She wasn't special to him. But he realized he was thinking those things, and was upset with himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. It wasn't like Roy was his, or anything. So what could he say, to lie? He wasn't the best at lying. He finished with a half truth. "I was just thinking about how much I hate girls. I don't know how you can stand them."
Roy chortled, a brief, almost silent little laugh. Ed glanced up at the man, and found him with that sardonic smile still in place. In that lighting, with that expression, it was easy to see how tired Roy was. Maybe it was from a late night romp in someone else's bedroom, but the wry expression suggested something deeper than that. Ed was content to observe without comment, so he looked away and didn't say anything about it.
Roy stopped walking, and Ed followed suit, glancing around for an indication of why they'd stopped walking. He spotted Roy's townhouse, and Roy standing at the beginning of the little walkway that led to the front door. He felt torn for a moment. He had been enjoying the company, and the reprieve from thinking too much, but now that he knew his way back, he no longer had an excuse to stay with Roy.
Roy was dealing with a similar conundrum, the cold sinking into his clothes with every passing second. He wanted to go inside... A glance at Ed told him that he wasn't the only one who felt the same way. Before he could say anything, however, Ed said, "Well, I guess I'll see you later." He braced himself to start walking again, but Roy stopped him with a simple suggestion.
"You could stay," he said. Ed's jaw clenched at the suggestion. Yes, he could stay. He could also leave. Why would Roy say that? Why would he stay, when he was set on putting distance between himself and Roy? He met Roy's gaze, and found something hopeful, but also pained, in that unusually bare expression. Where did his mask go? Roy insisted, "It's cold, and you look like you could use a break from it. Besides," he added, wry smile reappearing, "it's got to be better than sitting alone at home." Ed stared back at Roy, borderline glaring, as the man struck him right in the gut verbally. His former comment, however, brought his attention to his cold foot and hand, and the heavy automail, and his muscles that strained to keep from shivering.
He exhaled and muttered, "Why not?" Relief flooded Roy's countenance briefly before he turned around and led the way into the townhouse. Ed didn't really take note of his surroundings until he found himself staring at a crackling fire, and Roy was removing his jacket and boots. Ed kicked off his boots as well, and made himself comfortable on the white couch across the room from the fire. He could feel the warmth seeping back into his clothes, his muscles, his bones... It was a nice feeling.
"It's weird you invited me inside," he observed, looking over at the man he addressed. Roy was sitting on a lounge chair, leaning back with his eyes closed. His shirt still wasn't buttoned all the way, and his sleeves were pushed up lazily, cuffs undone. He looked like he'd just completely unraveled. It was so... different from the person in the office. So vulnerable.
Roy shrugged without conviction. "It seemed like the nice thing to do."
Ed snorted and replied sarcastically, "You say that like you're normally unduly nice to me. I didn't do anything to make you feel obligated. You spend most of our time together mocking me. So I'll say it again. It's weird you invited me inside." He narrowed his eyes at Roy, who slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head to meet his gaze. Roy looked him over again. Ed looked like he was at ease, but his eyes were alight with fiery... something. Passionate anger or hate. He almost seemed to be challenging Roy.
Roy gave up and answered frankly, "I didn't want you to go. I'm lonely tonight." That was effective in silencing Edward. Whatever fierceness Ed had been extending to Roy retreated to smolder and lash back out later. Ed crossed his arms, feeling the familiar ache in his gut just at the word - lonely. Roy reached for the end table beside his chair. Ed heard a soft clink and looked up to see the man pouring them both drinks. He didn't say anything about offering a glass to Ed, just let the silent offer sit on the table while he drank from his own glass. Roy went on, unfazed by the bitter taste in his mouth, "It's actually the reason I went out looking for a date tonight. In those terms, my endeavor was unsuccessful."
"I don't see how I could help you feel less lonely," Ed replied dubiously as Roy refilled his glass.
Roy answered without hesitation, "Just sitting there is enough." Again, this forced silence from Ed. Ed glared at his knees, wishing he wasn't stuck like this. He was hard pressed to leave, since he had no reason for being there and he really didn't want to face his feelings for Roy right then. On the other hand, he didn't want to leave. He was enjoying Roy's company, and Roy had said he was feeling lonely... Would it be cruel to leave?
Roy stared at the fire while Ed sat in silence. He swirled the glass in his hands absently, lost in his own thoughts. Flames danced before his vision. What was he doing? Keeping Ed here. Why? Things could only end poorly. But he knew that what he'd said was the truth. He was just lonely, and his attraction to Ed didn't help. It also didn't help that Ed had so willingly come inside, and walked him home... "Maybe it is weird that I invited you inside," he acknowledged, earning a suspicious glance from Ed, "but it's weirder that you walked me home and accepted my invitation without complaining." He moved his eyes from the fire and looked at Ed, who was glaring at him. "Why would that be?"
Ed sneered at him. "I don't owe it to you to answer."
Roy raised an eyebrow and smirked, a poor resemblance to the confident man from the office. "Equivalent Exchange. I told you why I invited you in. Tell me why you accepted." Ed continued to glare at him, ready to fire arguments at him. After all, Ed hadn't asked why Roy invited him in. But something in Roy's expression - the exhaustion - made him stop. He wasn't sure if it would be cruel to leave Roy alone when he was feeling lonely already, but he was certain it would be cruel to argue with the man when he was that exhausted.
He huffed and spat his answer. "I walked with you because I was lost, and I know my way home from your place." He looked at Roy to see if that was enough, but his expression hadn't changed, and he was waiting for more. Ed's lip twitched unpleasantly, and he finished quietly, locking gazes with Roy, "I came inside because I was pretty lonely myself." He saw the shock flicker across Roy's face, and decided to take the edge off his confession by adding with a shiver, "And it was fucking cold outside. It's a fuckin' twenty minute walk from your place to mine."
Roy offered quietly, "You could stay here the night." Ed's expression went blank as he saw the sincerity and the dwindling hope in Roy's face. Why was he doing this? How could he torture them both by suggesting something they both knew Ed would refuse? Roy added, tone almost pleading, "I have an extra room upstairs, and it's really cold outside." When Ed didn't seem like he was about to budge, Roy added desperately, "I'll feel incredibly alone when you leave, Ed."
Ed shook his head in disbelief and scrubbed his right hand over his eyes. "How much did you drink tonight?"
Roy hesitated before answering, "I'm not sure, but it can't have been too much. I don't stumble when I walk." When Ed just sat there, eyes covered, Roy felt his hope wither. "Let's change that then," he mumbled, and knocked back the rest of his glass before pouring some more. He had finished downing that one and was pouring another when Ed finally looked up and met his gaze, completely fierce and determined. Roy stopped with the glass at his lips. Ed got to his feet, stomped over to the lounge chair, and grabbed the glass Roy had put down for him and forgotten about seconds later. He knocked it back like an expert, and smacked it back onto the wood.
"I'll stay," Ed murmured, and grabbed the bottle of scotch out of Roy's hands. "But you aren't drinking any more of this." Roy, too surprised by Ed's actions, and too relieved to hear Ed was staying, didn't complain, or even really care. He just watched solemnly as Ed placed himself between Roy and the fireplace, leaning against the grey bricks around the fire, his arms crossed, and eyes glued to the dancing flames. He'd placed the bottle of scotch on the mantlepiece.
Mouth numb, Roy asked, "Why?" In other words, why did you decide to stay? Ed turned his head to look at Roy, and was tempted to feign misunderstanding, to explain why he took the scotch away, even though Roy's soft, dumbfounded tone displayed clearly exactly what he was asking about. He tossed the thought aside, instead deciding he wasn't answering questions, and that it was still Roy's turn.
He retorted, "Why are you so certain I'll make you less lonely?"
Roy's mouth went dry at the question, the alcoholic haze worsening from his last drink. It wasn't such a bad idea to answer Ed's question, right? He was only vaguely aware of why he hadn't before explained this to Ed, but it didn't matter. It wasn't a bad idea. He replied, "Because I love you." Silence followed and he wondered briefly if maybe it had been a bad idea. Ed went stiff, eyes wide, staring straight at Roy.
Ed whispered, "You've been drinking. You're not thinking straight. Why don't I-"
"Alcohol doesn't make up false emotions for you," Roy interrupted, frowning at Ed's disbelieving expression. Did he think Roy was lying? "Alcohol lowers your inhibitions," he explained, although he was sure Ed already knew this. It just helped his point. "I really do love you. The alcohol has nothing to do with that. It has to do with the fact that I decided to tell you." Ed met his gaze and searched his eyes for a long moment, looking for a way out of this, but also... wishing somehow that he didn't have to.
"Then you've made a pretty poor decision," Ed whispered. He'd never drank alcohol before in his life, and he knew in the back of his head that what Roy was saying was true. In that same part of his brain, he knew three other things. Firstly: since he'd never drank before, he had no tolerance. Secondly: he was missing two limbs, so alcohol would act much swifter and stronger because he had less body parts to distribute to. Thirdly: he'd just swallowed a glass of scotch.
And even though he knew those things, it didn't seem like a bad idea to have more to deal with this problem he was currently faced with. What to do about Roy Mustang? He muttered, "I change my mind." He picked up the scotch, and brought it back over to the end table where the two glasses sat. He poured some more for the both of them and quickly swallowed his glass. Roy did the same. The warmth emanating from his stomach was nice, like he'd never been outside in the cold at all.
"Are you alright?" Roy asked, eyes twinkling in amusement. Ed liked that face, that smile. Roy looked much less tired this way, much happier, much sexier. He heard the question, and thought about answering it, but didn't on account of the fact that it was a dumb question. "You look a little pink," Roy elaborated, reaching up and touching Ed's hot cheek with the back of his fingers. Ed glared at Roy because the question was still stupid, but he didn't pull away from the touch. It wasn't... bad.
Roy furrowed his eyebrows, worried again. Ed hadn't said anything to his confession. He hadn't rejected or accepted his feelings. Even now, with the soft brush of fingers on his cheek, he didn't respond. What was the kid thinking? Was he not sure how to reject Roy nicely? As Ed had reacted to Roy's confession, Ed's reaction to the touch was to turn to alcohol. He picked up the bottle and drank directly from it, taking a long swig. Roy raised an eyebrow, and was impressed by Ed's endurance, although worried that the kid was drinking too much. Ed smacked the bottle onto the end table, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Right," Ed murmured to himself, grimacing. "That was terrible."
Despite himself, Roy smiled, once more amused. "I'm sorry I made you do that."
Ed sighed, took a couple steps backward, and fell onto the couch. "Don't be sorry," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "It's not you." Roy watched Ed for a moment longer. Strong, fierce, stubborn, brilliant, and absolutely sexy. He decided to take his chances again, determined to get Ed's response. He stood up and sat down next to Ed. He took the hand beside him, warm and soft. Ed didn't respond. He just sat there, hand limp, neither pushing Roy away nor squeezing back. Roy turned his head to examine Ed's expression. His eyebrows were furrowed in something akin to pain, and his eyes were closed, his face up to the ceiling. His pouty lips begged for Roy to lean in and kiss them.
He couldn't see why that could be a bad idea. He leaned over and placed his lips gently on Ed's. Ed still didn't respond. He didn't kiss back. He didn't tell Roy to go away. He just sat there, completely passive, letting Roy kiss him. Roy decided to give him a little incentive, and his free hand passed the space between them, and landed in Ed's lap, gently rubbing a very sensitive organ.
Ed felt the hand invading his personal space, giving him pleasure. He felt the lips against his own, the tongue prodding his lips, hoping for a response. He tore himself apart, unable to tell Roy to go away because he wanted this so much... but he couldn't encourage Roy. Neither of them were thinking right. Would Roy regret this in the morning? The longer Roy kissed and groped him though, the more he felt he needed to do something, and that small voice that told him they might regret this was slowly being drowned out by the alcohol taking effect and the hand gently squeezing his now raging hard on.
Ed gathered the remains of his courage and pressed against Roy's lips with bruising force, parting his lips to allow that talented tongue into his mouth. Roy returned the vigorous response with just as much enthusiasm. Ed pulled his flesh hand out from under Roy's, and sat forward so he'd have room to reach around and grab Roy's hair firmly. Roy rewarded the motion by fumbling with unfastening Ed's pants. He made quick work of it and stuck his hand into Ed's pants. Ed inhaled sharply through his nose. The hand rubbed his head, and stroked him firmly once - twice - three times -
Ed broke the kiss, and whispered with their lips centimeters apart, "Roy. I-" He stopped and swallowed, not sure what he wanted to say. Did he want to fuck? Did he just want release? Roy didn't stop moving his hand, working wonders, and thoroughly distracting Ed.
Breath ghosting on Ed's cheeks, Roy whispered, "I got laid tonight, Ed. I'm going to assume you didn't." Ed wordlessly shook his head, no. Roy smirked and said, "I don't need to get laid twice in one night. You, on the other hand, deserve that much, at least." Ed was about to protest weakly, but Roy asked, "When was the last time you got laid?" Ed swallowed, mouth dry. "Never, I'm assuming." Ed didn't argue, so Roy asked, "The last time you relieved yourself?"
Ed answered breathlessly, cheeks flaring hotly, "This morning."
Roy whispered, "I can make you orgasm at least three times in an hour." Still his hand continued moving, picking up its pace, squeezing in all the right places, slowly becoming slick with precum. What Roy proposed sounded like pure bliss... and a never ending torture at the same time. "How would you like me to go about your first?" Ed couldn't formulate an appropriate response between the hand in his pants and the alcohol. Roy chuckled at Ed's heightened breath. "Let's at least take off your pants." He took away his hand, and Ed fumbled to help him tug the leather pants from his hips.
Moments later, he stood in front of the couch, exposed to Roy's voracious gaze. Roy took Ed's hips and sat the blond down in his lap. A strange jolt of pleasure shot through his groin when he felt Roy's erection press against his ass through Roy's pants. Roy reached around him and explained, "It's easier for me this way." He grasped Ed's erection like he would his own and began pumping.
The pleasure blinded Ed to everything else. He squirmed under Roy's actions, unable to keep a moan from tearing from his throat. Roy reached around with his other hand and gently grasped Ed's balls, simultaneously squeezing the base of Ed's erection. Ed tossed his head back onto Roy's shoulder, blindly reaching out for something to grasp. He grabbed Roy's hair, and with his other hand grasped the fabric of his shirt.
Roy murmured in Ed's ear, "I want you to moan, Ed. It's incredibly sexy." Ed closed his eyes at the sound of Roy's husky voice, the meaning of the words not lost on him. Roy picked up the pace, earning another throaty moan. Ed couldn't help the noises that erupted from his mouth. Another movement over his head, and a swift but firm downward stroke made him shake with need for release. He bucked helplessly into Roy's hands, earning a breathless chuckle from the man beneath him. Roy turned his head, continuing with his hand job, and whispered into Ed's ear, "I want to know everything that turns you on, Ed, so that when we finally get to fuck," he accented this word by rolling his own hips into Ed's, "I can make it the sexiest, hottest, most pleasurable sex you've ever had."
Ed swallowed and had the presence of mind to spit out breathlessly, "I've never had sex before, bastard."
Roy squeezed hard again, earning another moan, and whispered, "Then we can make it the hottest sex I've ever had."
"That's all you ever care about, bastaaah," he began to hiss, but was interrupted by a deft trick of pale fingers, and sweet lips kissing his neck, and trailing up to his ear. His senses overloaded for a moment. Pleasure turned the whole world white. His back arched, and his breath caught in the back of his throat as the heat uncoiled between his legs. Roy kept pumping, milking Ed of every last drop. Moments later, Ed turned boneless, and he slumped on Roy again.
Roy chuckled. "That was rather abrupt."
Ed found the passageway to his lungs again and allowed himself to breathe. He murmured sluggishly, "It's your fault." He apparently didn't feel the need to elaborate, and scooted off Roy's lap to sit down bare-assed on the couch. Roy smirked at the blond next to him, and looked him up and down. He'd made a fine mess with his cum, and if it wasn't cleaned up soon, it was going to leave an embarrassing stain on the carpet and on Roy's pants. The couch was white anyway. He reached for the tissues on the coffee table and began to wipe up what he could.
"Well, that was fun," he observed, and looked up at Ed. The blond was most definitely asleep, slumped over the arm of the couch, metal arm pillowing his head. Roy would have been disappointed, except that Ed looked absolutely adorable. He chuckled, chalked the sleep up to the alcohol, and decided to situate Ed so that he could sleep comfortably. No matter how many times Roy knocked something over or picked up Ed's limbs and head, Ed refused to wake up. So Roy pulled on his boxers for him - which had come off with the pants - and tossed a blanket over the boy. Then he sat in the lounge chair and poured himself one last drink for the night.
Before Ed even opened his eyes, he knew he felt like shit. His stomach clenched and churned, and a dull ache formed in the back of his skull. His mouth was dry, and he felt gross in general, like he hadn't showered after a really sweaty workout. When he opened his eyes, the movement felt sluggish, like his eyelids were swollen. The cushions beneath him told him he wasn't home, and the wall of cushion to his left told him he was lying on a couch. He could remember the previous night, but it didn't mean something hadn't happened after he fell asleep.
He turned his head and spotted Roy. The man was sitting in his lounge chair, his head resting backward, exposing his throat. Between his legs, he rested his hand, and between his fingers was a sideways glass. In his other hand, over the arm of the chair, rested on top of an open book, his pinky trapped beneath it. His chest rose and fell evenly, and he thankfully didn't snore. The sound surely would have made Ed kill someone. Sunlight shone through the windows, stabbing his eyeballs.
He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the couch, tossing the blanket to the side. His stomach clenched again, and he buried his face in his hands, his elbows against his knees. First of all, he felt like shit. Secondly, what had he been thinking last night? He suppressed a groan. What was the standard protocol for something like this? Wake him up and say sorry and goodbye and oh by the way let's not mention this to anyone, last night was a mistake? More importantly, had it been a mistake in the first place? They'd both been drunk... but Ed knew he'd felt that way about Roy for a long time. It was Roy's feelings he wasn't so sure of. He wasn't sure he wanted to confront that at the moment.
On the other hand, he was supposed to call Al that morning. He'd promised to since he cut their conversation short the night before. He peered through his fingers, and lifted his head up. He wasn't going to get anything done by sitting there. Despite his churning stomach, he was starving. He also felt incredibly greasy and stale and stiff. The question remained: where to take care of these issues? Was it his right to use Roy's house? Did he want to be there when Roy woke up?
He found a clock on the mantlepiece above the fireplace and found it was well past noon. His first order of business was to call Alphonse. It didn't matter if Roy didn't want him touching shit, or if he was still there when Roy woke up. Alphonse was his first priority, always. He glanced around and found the telephone in the corner of the room.
He stood and approached the phone, feeling a little better when he moved around. He glanced at Roy to make sure he didn't wake him, and dialed Al's number. It rang once, and even then, it was cut off halfway. Al greeted the phone eagerly, "Hello? Brother?"
Ed smiled despite himself and whispered, "Hey, Al."
"Oh my goodness, brother!" Al exclaimed, making Ed wince in misery. "I thought something terrible happened to you! You're never this late in calling me. What's wrong? What's going on? Why are you whispering?" Each word drilled painful holes into Ed's brain and he wanted to smack his forehead against the wall in frustration, but that would only serve to hurt him more.
He answered quietly, "I have to be quiet. Everything's fine. I'm sorry I called so late and that I cut our conversation short last night, but I really don't have time to talk right now. I just wanted to tell you that I'm fine and that I plan on getting back to you today. We - I'm a little tied up at the moment." He glanced back at Roy, who was absolutely still. Somehow, that didn't seem right. Suspicious, but not sure why since it appeared the man was asleep, he kept his eye on Roy.
Al chided him, "You can't keep putting this conversation off, brother. I really-"
"Not now," Ed hissed, "I can get the you-need-a-girlfriend talk later, when I don't have to worry about waking anyone up."
"Who are you with?" Al asked, more confused than anything, "Who would be asleep at this hour?"
"I was, until just a few minutes ago," Ed snapped into the phone, daring to take his eyes off of Roy to glare at the phone, as if it could carry the message to his brother miles away. It wasn't Al's fault, but it felt good to be angry at someone about something. He heard Al sigh impatiently on the other end, but didn't let him speak. "I really do have to go."
Al replied, "Whatever. I expect a full explanation."
Ed's smile returned. "Thanks for worrying about me." With that, he hung up and turned around to find Roy watching him sleepily, smugly smirking like the smarmy bastard he was. Ed crossed his arms and glared openly at his commanding officer. "Bite me," he snapped before the elder could say a thing. Roy raised both of his eyebrows, smirk falling a little, but not quite gone. He raised his hands in a universal sign of surrender, and still said nothing. Ed's scowl deepened.
"How much of that did you hear?"
Roy shrugged, looking amused and smug still, and rested his chin in his palm, his elbow on the arm of the chair. "How do you feel?" he asked pleasantly enough. His voice was rough from the scotch and the disuse of sleep. Ed glared at him firmly. Roy got the message and grinned despite himself. "The withdrawal of alcohol. Hangovers. I hear orange juice helps." He watched Ed for a long moment, and then let his eyes trail over Ed's body, clearly checking him out. It didn't help Ed's mood.
"Bite me," Ed repeated, teeth gritted in fury. His head pounded.
Roy's smirk returned tenfold and purred, "Anywhere you'd like me to." Ed rolled his eyes, and made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. He wanted to make a comment about how much of a pig Roy was, but his stomach lurched. Every possible sentence that could have passed through his lips fled from his mind. His right hand moved to his stomach, a useless gesture, and his other covered his mouth.
Roy's smirk disappeared and he shot to his feet. He grabbed the small garbage pail he kept near the coffee table and dumped out all the paper in it, quickly handing the pail to Ed, and leading him to sit on the couch. Seated and with something to vomit in, Ed tried to calm his stomach. He hadn't thrown up in years. He turned an evil glare to Roy, who smiled apologetically. "I fuckin' hate you," Ed grumbled, and his stomach lurched again. He swung his head around, and felt hands pull back his bangs while he deposited the remains of his late dinner into the garbage pail.
He heard Roy say, "...surprised you didn't throw up last night... bottle's almost empty..." but his attention was mostly focused on not missing the pail. The convulsions ceased, and he leaned back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Roy patted his shoulder and stood up, leaving for the only other room on this floor.
Ed took the moment alone to think. At the very least, Roy didn't seem repulsed by what happened. In fact, he seemed like he was almost glad it had happened, and had even made an innuendo. Not that that was entirely new. The only problem now was confirming Roy's feelings... and he wasn't quite sure if he was glad about what had happened, either. Could he risk a relationship, on the off chance that things might turn out well? It seemed like things were happening without him.
Roy returned with a glass of water and another of orange juice, and a white hand towel. He gave Ed the hand towel and placed both glasses on the coffee table within reach. Ed snatched the glass of water and drank from it gratefully. Roy watched with a sort of detached amusement as Ed quenched his dire thirst. He'd been able to think a little bit himself, and he had to wonder if he'd been out of line earlier. He decided to leave the teasing and innuendos for later.
"You can use my shower," he offered.
Ed bounced to his feet. "Great, thanks." He headed for the stairs immediately.
"Next floor up, straight ahead," Roy described quickly. Ed was gone in moments. Roy sighed and glanced around the room. Somehow it had seemed much more cluttered the night before... Fondly, he remembered Ed in his lap, bucking helplessly... The thought shot a pang of pleasure through him, but it passed as he was pressed with more important things. Like cleaning out the garbage pail, putting the scotch away, bringing Ed's pants upstairs, taking a shower himself, maybe making breakfast if his stomach stopped complaining... The list went on.
He stood up and got to work. All the while, he nursed his headache, and tried to think of a way through this afternoon without destroying his relationship with Edward. At the very least, Ed didn't seem entirely disturbed by what had happened. That was good. On the other hand, he did seem a little upset about something... He climbed the stairs with Ed's pants in his hands, remembering the creak of leather and heavy breathing as they pulled the fabric from Ed's toned thigh, the opposite one metal. Automail was surprisingly sexy. And Ed's firm ass in his lap... a freaking godsend.
He knocked on the bathroom door, and listened intently for a moment. Ed snapped, "What the hell do you want, bastard? I'm trying to figure out your shower, and I don't want you to come in." In other words, he was confused (therefore angry) and naked. Roy smirked in amusement, despite himself. Ed was always a handful.
He replied, "I have your pants. I'll leave them out here, by the door." He folded them, but he'd never been very good at the action, so it was sloppy. Then he dropped them beside the door and hesitantly looked at the sight. It didn't look like he'd tried very hard. He sighed, irritated at himself for caring, picked the pants up, and rolled them. It looked much neater, placed gently beside the wall. Shaking his head at himself, he climbed up more stairs to get to his room, and therefore his personal bathroom.
With acute knowledge on how the shower worked and where his soap was, he managed to rinse away the smell of sex and sweat and scotch, and remove the grease from his hair much faster than Ed. When he got out of the shower, he dressed in loose pants and his usual cotton button up, not bothering to button it to the top. He took the stairs two at a time, rolling his sleeves up neatly to his elbows. He passed by the bathroom Ed was using, heard the water turning off, and noticed the pants missing. He allowed himself a smirk, and went back down into the living room.
Once there, he found a clean room, and he felt clean, and he was wearing clean clothes... He felt much better, even if his head still ached and his stomach occasionally flipped. He was rather familiar with the feeling, though, so he could almost count it as a comfort. He grabbed the blanket Ed used, put it away, and plopped down onto the couch. He liked that couch. It was comfortable. He drank some orange juice, closed his eyes and allowed himself a small smile.
It was then that he heard Ed stomping down the stairs. He regained his composure, and sipped from the glass again. It tasted good, if nothing else. Ed's trek down the stairs ended swiftly, and he came to stop in Roy's line of sight. Roy appraised him with his eyes, but decided that he didn't want to step on Ed's toes, so kept it quick. Ed was really sexy, shirtless in his leather pants. His hair had been put up into a wet ponytail. He wasn't frowning, either, but looked pretty serious.
The blond crossed his arms and assumed an impatient pose. "Good morning," Roy greeted him calmly.
Ed drummed his fingers on his arm. "It's a little late for that."
Roy smiled grimly. "Said the man who said 'bite me' first thing this morning."
"Afternoon," Ed corrected him bitterly.
Roy shrugged. "It is what it is." He drank from his glass of orange juice, and watched Ed in his peripherals. Ed's position did not change. He just stood there with his arms crossed. Clearly, he was waiting for something. Roy put down his glass and clasped his hands in his lap. "Do you need something?" he asked politely.
Ed answered curtly, "Yes. I want to know if you meant it."
Roy raised both eyebrows. "Whether or not I love you, you mean. Of course I do."
Ed's countenance faltered for a moment, but returned to fierce determination. "And you don't care about what happened last night." Said like a statement, but it was a question. They watched each other intently for a long moment, while Roy's flippant demeanor slowly slid away. Ed's heart hammered as he waited, unable to read Roy. It made his head hurt more.
"I wouldn't say that," Roy replied nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat. "I care about what happens to me, about what happens to you, what happens to us." He turned his eyes from his potential life partner and looked at the orange juice he'd put down. He finished quietly, "Do I regret it? That's a different question. And no, I do not." He looked back up and smiled. "I'd like to pretend we'd both done that while sober and thinking straight."
Ed tapped his foot halfway through that last sentence, feeling restless. "So you want to have a relationship." Their gazes locked and Roy nodded, a miniscule gesture. "Even though," Ed added, almost in a warning tone, "I'm your volatile subordinate." Roy's expression didn't change, so Ed continued, "Even though you won't be able to have sex with anyone but me until you die." A small smile formed on Roy's lips, so Ed pushed, "Even though I'm a liability to your ambitions." Roy's smile widened bit by bit, as Ed threw out every reason Roy and he wouldn't work, and every expectation he had from their relationship.
"Yes," Roy interrupted at some point, "Yes. That's what I want, Ed."
Ed sighed, seemingly deflating at the words, a dazed sort of expression overwhelming his features. "If none of that bothers you, then I guess..." he trailed off, wondering what he wanted himself. But that was a stupid question, so he sat down next to Roy and met his gaze evenly. "I think..." he tried again, but the words failed to pass his lips. How could it be so hard to say I love you? Roy's eyes danced with amusement as Ed failed with words, so Ed reached for Roy's collar and pulled him into a kiss.
This was what their first kiss should have been. Slight traces of mint from when they'd both brushed their teeth, not traces of scotch they'd both drank. Roy broke from Ed's liplock and whispered, "Does this mean I actually have a Valentine this year?" Ed scoffed, but otherwise didn't say anything, and leaned in to kiss Roy again. Valentine's Day... It reminded him of Al, though... He pushed the thought aside. He'd called already. Al knew he was alright. He could call later.