A RoyEd drabble. NSFW stuff (I'm not really subtle), possibly spoilers. Do enjoy!
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He is greed.
Ed fell to the bed, or was he pushed? He wasn't sure, but he welcomed Roy's heavy heat on top of him. Eager hands pulled at the man's clothes while Mustang's mouth worked his jaw and throat in stinging kisses and hungry bites. This was the man that wanted to rule the country, wanted to change the world, wanted to take everything onto his shoulders. He was the man that fancied himself strong enough to survive such ambitious avarice. And he was also the man that chose Ed. For whatever reason, and the blond learned to stop questioning that long ago, Roy wanted him and wouldn't take no for an answer. Time and again, he held Ed close, made him gasp, made him burn, and in the end made him feel safe from demons inside and out. Roy took everything Ed was able to offer, then quietly, skillfully, pushed for just a bit more. Because Ed was never truly honest with himself about what he needed.
He is lust.
It had never been important. All the other shit going on mattered more. It didn't matter what needs Ed was ignoring for the sake of fixing his mistakes. In spite of everything he tried to ignore, Roy taught him how to kiss, why it was better when he didn't flinch away from another's touch. The Flame Alchemist set fire to something inside of him, made him hungry for things he didn't know he wanted until he'd had them for the first time. And then he didn't want to stop. Just a look from those dark eyes when it was safe had Ed's knees weak and his mouth watering. He didn't just need, he wanted, and he craved Roy's skin against his own. Time and again, breathless sigh after heated moan, until they lay tangled and sated.
He is gluttony.
He consumed everything. When times were bad, Edward had to stop him from swallowing all of his apologies, all of his regrets. He had to remind Roy that the solution wasn't in the bottle, it wasn't in the pain. In return, Mustang needed Ed to know that it wasn't going to disappear if he looked away. He could enjoy things if he savored them. But they were both incurably voracious souls, drawn together with steel and sparks and if they wanted to, they could consume whatever they set their minds to.
He is wrath.
Ed saw Roy at his worst, when rage was the only emotion in dark eyes, like a terror in the night. He'd been shaken to the core to see that anger, a breakdown of one of the most composed, capable men he knew. He'd managed to stop them, cool the flames when they were mere allies, friends looking out for one another. When they were together, he saw it only once more. A breakdown of control, a bad day, with Ed beneath him trying to help him forget. But the monster took over, sliding over Roy's features, pushing through his blood, leaving Ed pinned under someone he'd only met once and had never wanted to again. He'd stopped that beast with a steel grip around his throat, pushing back, making Roy see. It wasn't always perfect, and that night, they held each other, shaking, when the monster pulled back and left the man Ed loved.
He is sloth.
This was the disguise, the one he wanted everyone to see, to underestimate. This was the side Ed made fun of the most because it aggravated him the most. It was a farce, one that he believed for perhaps a day after seeing the man at work. He would be hard-pressed to find another soldier, anyone else, that gave as much of himself to his work, to his country. Underneath the careless 'phone calls' to girls that didn't exist or the endless harassment from Hawkeye to get the paperwork done was someone that wore a lazy smile all day, but stayed to work well into the night. On the days where he didn't go in, which were fewer and farther between, Ed let him live up the façade, let him sleep, let him rest. And when the burdens were heavy, the blond let him lose himself in him, until it was time to go and do it all again.
He is envy.
In spite of himself, Ed sometimes loved how jealous Mustang would get over him. Sure, it annoyed him to have another man presume to possess him. But in the raw reality of it, Roy had possessed him, and Ed let him. And after the first few times Roy cut in while Ed was telling someone to fuck off annoyed him (he could take care of his own damn self after all), the times after became somewhat…attractive. The flash in his eyes when something of his was threatened, the way his shoulders squared and the heaviness to his stride. And god how he loved when that hand clamped down on the back of his neck in a show of claim. Even better if Ed could feel the ignition cloth, smell the traces of fire alchemy on his lover. It left him sometimes wanting to tempt fate when he wanted Mustang to just own him, and that happened more often than he would ever admit to.
He is pride.
In the shadows of their sanctuary, in the safety of the time spent together, that's when Roy let himself go. Ed loved the look on his face. It stole his breath, made him hungry, made him crave. When those eyes looked at him as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world, Ed couldn't breathe. For whatever reason, Mustang was pleased to have him, enjoyed breaking him down and making him sing. He would pull him down into a place of heat and skin and desire. What they did together liberated them both. And in the morning, Roy looked at him with such pleasure, stroking away golden hair and knowing he was looking at what was his. What would always be his.
He is my sin. He is my freedom.