A/N: Konbonwa, minnasan! xD This is one of two 'sensual' RoyEd one page (minus the A/N) oneshots I've written. If no one's noticed, I absolutely love RoyEd. After SasoDei, I'd rank it one of the deepest pairings ever. I read an excellent fanfic called Rusted Dawn (I HIGHLY recommend) that sort of inspired my attempt at 'vague lemons'. That and my shameless procrastinating… -_-|| …Enjoy… Music: Lotsa crap xD
~Naoko
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Procrastination
Procrastination is a deceptive disguise, a ruse so elaborate, it has worked its way into his very personality. Just sitting there, blankly staring into space. It's so easy to do nothing and think of everything, to let his mind wander over everything from alternate spellings of his middle name (Gerard) to why he deserves to live after what he'd done in Ishbal. Hawkeye will stare at him, then she'll yell at him, maybe casually threaten him with a pistol or two. He'll pick up some papers and scrawl his signature like the lie that he's telling in regards to the subject matter. Procrastination is just a nice way to say you're lying, but with Edward, half the time Mustang skips right over the deception…
And breathes over that radiant skin, ghosts his hands up and down the boy's sides, like he's transmuting Edward from a fiery and tempremental teen into a writhing and begging lover. He kisses the curves of the boy's neck, inhales the scent of sweat and shampoo with his nose, and the sight of automail lithely succumbing to his touch with his eyes. For a man who's spent the majority of his life womanizing, he is both surprised and oddly smug about the idea that only Edward can send him so high. So Roy Mustang does what Roy Mustang does best: he procrastinates.
He waits for three years after Edward dissapeared. Alone in the cold, he thinks about nothing and everything, from how he misses the short jokes to how he'd like to kiss the blonde senseless. He waits, twiddling his thumbs and snapping his fingers even after Edward's return, before finally getting off his high horse of pride and…
Edward's shouts echo in the silence, a beautiful symphony of teenage ecstasy mixed with a flowing undercurrent of a darker love. Mustang smiles to himself. He'd always figured the boy for a screamer. Together in the embers of the afterglow, he tells Edward that, much to the blonde's dismay.
But Roy is a deceptively patient man; you have to be in order to be a procrastinator. It doesn't take Edward long to label him a sadistic tease. But who better to be one for, he'd replies. Than a masochistic midget who begs to be taunted? The blonde had gruffly retaliates by telling Roy to do him extra hard that night.
And so he does. Their kisses are rough, neither gives any regard to the marks left on the other's body. Even though that falls mostly under Edward's aegis, Roy always leaves sporting a few scratches, hickeys, or on rare occasions, bruises. He slows the pace suddenly, long fingers running through Edward's blonde locks, which in turn sighalong with the boy they're attatched to. He traces a trail of kisses down the curves of the neck, down the chest, making a detour at the scarred tissue connecting automail and body. From there, his lips continue their journey down, down, down they go, Roy and Edward both. Sinking further into the fluttering promises and pleasures of procrastination. Smirking up at the blonde, indigo eyes blazing, Roy undoes the button on Edward's pants with his teeth.