A/N: I do not own FMA. This is yaoi boyxboy ect.

Friction

By: Xellion

I have started to hate the feel of the city on my skin. That itchy closeness of strangers and the smell of the bread shop in the distance. As the sound of my own uneven foot steps are drowned out by meaningless small talk; all I can think about is returning home. The only thoughts passing through my head are the ones about tonight. My imagination decides to run wild and produce the most mouth-watering images of the man I was returning home to.

His hot hands on my skin, those intense deep-blue eyes that almost appeared black and that sensation of being completely filled that I never seemed to get enough of. The only reason I ever put up with Central was for him. Roy could never stand the country, there's too little for him to do out there. He'd be like a cooped up dog. He always asks me if I felt like I sacrificed even more just for this; and even though I had I could never tell him that. He would just feel guilty. I couldn't have him getting all depressed on me, I knew exactly what I wanted from him and there was no room for distractions.

Even as I walked through the streets to his posh house (pompous rich bastard) I wondered exactly what I was getting myself into. I knew of course what the answer was. I had known all along, I wasn't stupid. I wanted this, I had requested it…demanded it almost. That we be together even at the cost of whatever it was we had before. I suppose we could have been considered colleagues; but I never dared to use the term 'friends 'when I spoke of my past relationship (if there had ever been one) with Roy Mustang.

There was always this uneven tension between us, a gap. And always this insatiable need to fill it with something. Oddly, we chose sex. I remember every detail of the night he took me; I recall moaning and screaming…the wonderful feel of his breath on me, the pain and pleasure of my virginity being given away. Everything. I often ponder what Roy might think if he knew how I committed this to my memory. I don't believe he would care at all. Maybe I am wrong about that, but who's to say really? There are some nights when he's so cold to me; it's hard to have faith in him.

One minute he loves me endlessly and the next he's a total bastard. Perhaps, loving is just hard for him. That's what I like to think. He spent so many years cooping up what he felt to protect himself from ever being hurt; he doesn't know how to handle anything. I finally reached the door at last, my fingers traced across the metal with my flesh hand before turning it. I gasped at the surprise waiting for me, he must have gotten impatient. I quickly closed the door to observe what was clearly for my eyes only. Roy lay on the couch, still fully clothed but his hand was on his cock, stroking fast and hard.

His eyes were closed and he hadn't even undressed from work yet. Even his boots were still on which was very unusual for him. He almost always left them at the door; that could only mean he was turned on by the time he had gotten home. I grinned wondering what he had been thinking about to get him so worked up that he couldn't possibly wait a second longer. He was panting harshly, he sounded close to the edge and he still hadn't noticed me.

"Edward….nghh!" I blushed slightly when my name slipped by his lips. He must have been really lost in bliss by now. I started taking careful quiet steps toward Mustang, making sure he didn't hear me. But I knew when he was this disoriented; a fire truck coming through the wall couldn't have distracted him. His hand started moving faster, frantic, seeking that blinding blissful pleasure. "Ahh…." He gasped; his back arching off the couch. I was sweating by now in my own anticipation, and I felt like I would release on my own just by watching him. My flesh hand reached down of its own accord, grinding against my rock hard cock. Sadly, I still had mine trapped in my leather pants.

I tried my hardest not to make any noises at all, I wasn't used to being this quiet. I loved screaming Roy's name when he pounded into me, and he loved hearing it. I started getting a nice steady pace going, while controlling my urges to cry out. I continued to watch him with wide eyes, his body shaking with spasms of sheer pleasure. Then he froze, his climax tore through him and his white essence seeped from the tip of his cock, trickling down his hand. He still panted hard, trying to catch his breath. I dropped my hand, still painfully hard.

I waited for him to notice me, still glued to the motions of his perfect pale thin fingers as they zipped up his military-issued pants. Finally I saw his eyes shift over to me. He couldn't miss me, I was standing about a foot from the sofa, and the expression on his face was priceless. Roy looked about ready to jump out of his skin.

"Edward…? When d…when did you get home?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago," I smirked cleverly.

"So you saw everything?"

"Didn't miss a beat." I confirmed. I walked over to him, putting a sway in my hips, something I only did for him. He was beyond mesmerized with me now. Good. That was the way it was supposed to be. He was mine. I straddled his hips, grinding myself into him "You should have waited, Colonel." He smirked back at me, and there was a fire in his dark blue eyes. Pure lust.

"You should know me better than that, Fullmetal."

"Oh I should?"

"Yes, I'm the stallion of Central, remember?"

"You're a bastard!" I whacked him playfully, but he quickly turned the tables, literally. Before I knew it, I was underneath him being kissed breathless. This was the Roy that loved me, the man that held onto me even though I often felt broken. He set aside my sins, even though he could not set aside his own. This was the side of him people never knew, and would never see. I felt privileged because he opened up to me, but still. He was so distant. I tried my best to let go of it.

A/N: Fin. Tune in for part two.