Taking the Initiative
Ed growled, shutting his eyes against the cheery morning light that blared through the window. Al, having settled in his human body for a year and a half, had developed a cruel habit of getting up ridiculously early and flinging back the blinds so that his older brother would have no chance of sleeping in when the sun rose. Rising early, sleeping early, a balanced diet –one of Al's mantras for good health and longevity.
Freaking medical schools and their compulsory foundational studies in metabolism and nutrition.
Ed tried to tug the blanket over his head, but the tension on the other end of the covers made him pause. When there was a quiet, low mumble of irritation and a shuffling noise, the blond froze and snapped open his eyes.
Lying a few scant inches across him, with a portion of the blanket wrapped possessively around his very naked torso, was a (thankfully) still asleep Roy Mustang.
What in the motherf- how? Him? Why? What the fuck?
Panic and humiliation coloured Ed's cheeks a pure crimson as blood thumped in an accelerating 'disaster' signal in his brain. That made his head hurt to a point of nausea, so he forced himself to take a long, deep breath.
Make way for recollection and rational thinking. Right.
Last night he went to the bar to have a few beers. Then Mustang showed up and joined him. He made some stupid remarks about Ed being a poor drinker, and he got pissed and challenged the condescending jerk to a duel. They went to the man's house and threw back god knows how many shots –which explains the splitting headache.
Then they somehow ended up doing… whatever they did.
The blond promptly put a lock on his memory vault with a mortified choke.
Congratu-fucking-lations, he told himself, in the 20 years of your life your first one night stand would be shared with a man whose face you'd like to punch in every five minutes.
If there really was a Goddess of love, lust, or whatever, then she was a real bitch.
He could always sneak out and pretend nothing happened –god knows Mustang probably sleeps around enough and was drunk enough to not remember that it was Ed who had been in his bed. But then, the man wasn't that much of an idiot, and if it was Mustang who came onto him first (which was likely, the sex-crazed bastard), then he wanted some answers –not to mention payback. A lot of it.
Ed quickly feigned sleep as the man beside him stirred. He prayed that the tangled mess of his hair was enough to hide the pulse that was madly hammering away at his neck.
A soft groan of discomfort and a slight dip of the mattress were followed by a protracted pause.
"You're doing a great job of pretending to be asleep, Edward. Keep it up."
It would have sounded more convincingly sarcastic if it hadn't been roughened by sleep and hangover-related misery.
Ed cautiously opened his eyes, sat up and scooted himself as close to the edge as the bed would allow. Conversing with Roy Mustang in any context outside of the office was disconcerting enough, but this situation was just plain creepy.
Roy made a low, pained noise from the back of his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could somehow draw out and eliminate the source of what looked to be a splitting headache.
"Good morning to you too, ass-wipe," Ed quipped belatedly, then wincing at how gritty his voice sounded. "Care to explain what the hell this is?"
Turning towards him slowly, the disheveled-looking Roy apparently still had the energy for taunting.
"Are you pointing at something, because I'm not sure what 'this' is referring to –
"MY ARM IS NOT SHORT YOU –Ed stopped abruptly, cradling his head as his own outburst pounded mercilessly in his skull like loudspeakers blasting heavy metal in an oculus. And he was laughing at him, the bastard. He'd get him back for that later.
"Don't fuck with me," he snapped. "Why are we in bed together?"
Roy gave him a saccharine smile. "Because you woke up first but decided to stick around a little longer?"
Ed almost wished that he still had his automail so that he could hit the man where it really hurt without damaging his own limbs in the process. He settled for bringing his heel straight down onto the middle of Roy's shin instead, and was very pleased by the undignified grunt that it induced.
Ed glared at him and accused, "you're looking shit-relaxed for someone who had just been bang –been fuc –been –oh, god damn it –
"Sleeping with?" Roy supplied nonchalantly.
"whatever, with a subordinate, male, decades younger than you (Roy frowned at that), and is highly capable of killing you right this second while enjoying it immensely," the younger man rambled through his furious blush. "So tell me what happened after we got wasted, and if you care about keeping your head connected to your body then give me a straight answer."
"In all honesty, like you said we got drunk and you decided that sex was a good idea," said Roy with a shrug.
The hair on the back of Ed's neck prickled in ire. "Now wait a fucking minute! I decided that it was a good idea!?"
The raven stared at him quizzically. "You're angry about having taken the initiative, but not about us having had sex?"
"Bullshit I 'took the initiative' –
Ed stopped. The man was on to something here, as much as he hated admitting it –wasn't he getting his priorities wrong? And not just out-of-order wrong, but the-world-is-about-to-end wrong.
"So you did want to have sex with me," Roy said slowly, as if he couldn't believe it himself.
Outraged, the blonde's jaw dropped. "Now that is just not true!"
"But it's not false either," Roy countered, his eyes slanting in that familiar way it did when he was trying to catch him out with those sneaky verbal tricks of his.
"Well, in all honesty, if we're both still sitting here talking then that means you wanted –wanted t-to… have sex with me too!"
Damn it, he really needed to stop stuttering.
"That's what I realized after you seduced me, and because I am an adult I have acknowledged and accepted the point that you have just raised," the man replied smoothly.
Ed threw up his hands in exasperation. "Don't give meyour 'I am an adult' crap, just… can we please start from the beginning again where I'm not being accused by the fucking ladies' man of central that I was the one who jumped somebody? Look, I even fucking said please!"
Roy flopped onto his side, facing Ed, and propped himself up on an elbow –looking like something conjured right out of a Xingese myth, lying on a bed of hand-spun silk that exhaled low notes of incense, with the misty sunlight washing his bared skin with whispers of opalescent sensuality.
Wait, the sunlight wasn't misty, it was like a fucking halogen!
Ed mentally slapped himself for the umpteenth time.
The man must be some kind of smirking virtuoso because the one he aimed at Ed at this moment was not one that existed in his encyclopedia of Mustang's expressions (the only reason why he needed one was because the man was freaking unpredictable). His skin prickling at the strange heat that this particular smirk sent rippling down his spine, Ed decided to file it under 'creepy-miscellaneous'.
"All right then," said the raven in a smoky baritone that somehow made Ed's earlobes go red, "good morning, Ed. Shall we try –this –again?"
The blond had no idea that a pronoun could sound dirty, but the word was now permanently contextualized by the heated black gaze that was sweeping over the length of his body (which he defensively covered with a pillow in response).
He had forgotten how light and unblemished Roy's skin was, because he usually had that strait-jacket of a military uniform buttoned right up to the neck. But now, with the crumpled sheets sitting just below his hipbone, the man's skin was almost the color of translucent moonlight that delicately accentuated the contours of bone and toned muscle beneath.
The man was admittedly attractive under the regular circumstances –it would be pointless to deny it from an objective standpoint –but it was plain unfair that he could pull of the tousled-hair-and-stubble look just as well (when Ed didn't comb or shave Al always said he couldn't decide whether he looked more like a beggar or someone who had just snuck out of an asylum).
The man's eyes were not, as Ed had imagined, a deep-sea blue or the brown of bark that had been soaked through by torrential rain. Rather, they were thin rings of diamond-sharp gray that were only a few shades lighter than the orbs of compressed charcoal that they surrounded.
And the mouth that liked to cause him grief at every possible moment was expertly manipulative even when it was not delivering spoken arsenal and setting verbal snares. That being said, it was astonishing that such a mouth could also be so soft and wonderfully moist…
Ed pulled back with a wheezing gasp that gave even Roy a start.
"Did you develop asthma?" said the man, sounding rather concerned.
"No I did not, you ass!" spluttered a fuming Ed. "What the fuck was that for?"
The blond flinched as that-particular-smirk slid back upon his senior's face.
"That? Oh, you mean this?" Then he proceeded to further corrupt pronouns.
"Oh for heaven's sake would you lay it off you sex fiend!"
Roy frowned somewhat petulantly at the fists that were (quite ineffectively) pounding him on the chest.
"I thought you wanted to start afresh from the beginning?"
"Start afresh? From the beginning?" Ed all but screeched. "Have you lost your fucking mind? You and me put together will defy logic to the point of tearing a hole in the space-time continuum that's the size of your ego and Gluttony's ass put together!"
Roy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I understand your analogy. Could you run that through again?"
Ed snatched back his arm when he noticed that Roy was rubbing slow circles up his forearm, and the offending hand switched over to gently combing through his hair. He swatted that hand away, but then the other hand began to massage his thigh through the sheets.
Grabbing his pillow, Ed resorted to whacking the man with it.
"It's like trying to put out burning oil with water and everything blows sky-high –do you get it now, General Nutcase?" he demanded breathlessly behind his shield.
Fingers encircled his ankle, an arm wrapped around his waist, and before Ed could yelp in surprise he was once again lying atop the mattress, nose-to-nose with a very bemused-looking Roy.
The melodious voice caressed his lips tantalizingly as the raven said, "Indeed, the results would be nothing short of spectacular."
"You're a sadistic, sex-crazed pyromaniac!"
When a soft chuckle was his only response, Ed promptly pressed together his own lips and sucked them inwards in a last-ditch attempt to deter the advancing Roy.
"Oh Ed, hysteria is so very becoming of you…"
And then those hummed words lilted off into the warm softness of a pair of lips against his ear, the hot swipe of a tongue against his thrumming pulse.
His bottom lip was nipped at encouragingly –the bastard was manipulative to the very end –but when a burning tongue swept inside his mouth, flirting with his taste buds, Ed was surprised that the man's flavor was something like a promise, a passion that burned slow and strong in a guarded hearth.
Then Roy's hand glided over his collarbone like a brush stroke –and oh, were those fingers doing something marvelous to his nipples…
Oh, god, no!
He was supposed to be setting a good example for his little brother, and it's not as if Al would believe him if he said that he was testing out an exotic hangover remedy by sleeping with his commanding officer!
But holy hell, was that mouth potent.
Hmm.
Mmm.
Oh, god, yes.
Al was caught between feeling incensed and intrigued.
His older brother had gone out after dinner, and had only returned at three in the afternoon the following day without so much as having made him a phone call.
Now Ed stood at the door with his head bowed, his guilty face partially obscured by a tangle of damp golden hair.
"I can't believe you, big brother!" cried Al. "I've been worried sick!"
"Oh god, Al, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot –it won't happen again, I swear!"
His brother looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, but he was unshaven and his clothes were completely crinkled.
Al sighed as he let him in and shut the door. "You'd better fix your hair before it dries. And I'm not going to do it for you."
"Have you eaten lunch yet?" Ed asked, dumping himself into a chair.
"Of course I have, Ed. It's already three o'clock," replied Al crossly.
Ed gave him a sheepish smile. "Can you whip me up something quick? Please?"
The younger Elric rolled his eyes and started to rummage through the cupboards.
"Fine, but you do the dishes. I've only got a few more hours to study before I go over to Ben's party tonight."
"Party?" Ed said sharply.
"Yes, big brother. I told you two days ago, remember? Ben just moved into a new apartment so we're going over for a housewarming. Everyone from the class will be there," explained Al as he skinned a carrot.
Ed blinked. "You don't mean that kind of party with cakes and fizzy drinks…?"
"If there are any left I'll bring back a slice for you, all right? Eating too much of those things is bad for your health, Ed. They're full of saturated fat," he answered.
"No, what I meant was that if there is any alcohol, you're not to touch a drop of that stuff, you hear me?" said Ed heatedly.
The vegetable peeler clattered loudly on the chopping board as Al placed it down with a little too much force.
"Big brother! I'm a responsible young adult! I know what the consequences of abusing alcohol are! Besides, should you be telling me what to do when you have forgotten something as basic as calling home?"
Seeing the thoroughly chastised look on his brother's face, Al resumed chopping his cucumber with a satisfied 'harrumph'.
"And when you're at work tomorrow, remember to thank the General properly."
"What?"
"I said, you should thank General Mustang properly for calling to tell me where you were. What, you didn't even know that?"
"He actually got off his lazy ass and called you?"
"Yes Ed, he called me at five-thirty in the morning –I had just woken up myself –to apologize for keeping you, and said that I must be so worried about you. I don't know why you're so rude to him, Ed. General Mustang is a gentleman, and he's thoughtful."
Then the most peculiar expression came upon his brother's face. It was relief, incomprehension, bewilderment, and a subtle kind of warmth that made his eyes hum like a gentle fire of ochre.
In an instant it was gone, and Ed became enraged.
"Wait, he called you!? The bastard! What did he say to you?"
Al was so annoyed that he flung a piece of carrot at him.
"I told you to not be so rude! He said that you two were debating for the whole night and lost track of time, and there was a downpour so he invited you to stay overnight."
"The nerve of him! Seriously, when I get my hands on him I'll –
Ed stopped when a plate was plunked onto the table, and he immediately set off to demolish the gigantic sandwich while muttering curses between mouthfuls.
He almost choked when Al said conversationally, "and you'd better do something about that little bruise on your neck; it's very noticeable."
The end
End note: I wanted to take something relatively formulaic and put something new in it, but while writing I kind of lost the plot and now I can't even remember what that 'something new' was supposed to be. It ended up being a bit sappy, because I just couldn't picture a Roy who wasn't a little romantic. And that's also why in the end Ed ended up perving on Roy and got eaten! If there was a sequel to this story, they'll probably argue about who started the whole thing and sleep together a few more times before they fall in love.