Sexually Active Rainbows

Chapter Two: Disagreements

And you thought I wouldn't update this! Well, I've only gotten a review from LimeshellsAreLazy, my love uke, but I really don't mind. Might as well keep this up—I do love this roleplay to death. Might as well make the fic as good! Though this chapter actually deviates from the roleplay, just because I felt we needed to spend more time here.

Enjoy.

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"S-sir, you can't," Archer pressed both hands to Roy's shoulders, icy eyes wide with what could only be described as terror. "Th-this is fucking rape!"

"Rape?" Roy questioned, tilting his head like he really didn't understand Archer's words. He was drunk, but he wasn't stupid. Well, not much stupider than usual. But this… this ran far deeper than a drunken molestation. If he left… "No, no, you can't rape the willing." His hand trailed back down, earning a moan from the other, while his free hand moved up to gently stroke across a high, prominent cheekbone.

Damn sexual urges! Archer didn't want this! He didn't! But he knew his body wasn't telling him that. How long had it been? Hell, he didn't know. And this… Roy was offering him a way to the top. He'd do anything for a way to the top. Anything. But not this! Fraternization! If we get caught… If.

"Frank… you're so hard. You can't… can't pretend like ya' don't want this." Roy murmured, a soft slurring rhythm, trailing his hand down to cup Archer's sharp chin. "Stay," He couldn't even look into Archer's eyes anymore. "Please?" He leaned forward, clumsily taking Archer's lips.

It's not an order. That's all that went through his rather blanked mind as Roy kissed him, as he allowed it. He hadn't pulled back yet. He should. He had to. He couldn't let this happen. He wouldn't let this happen! And yet he let Roy part his lips; tongues clashing in a broken melody of passionate desire. It was wrong. So damn wrong. But it felt so right. And that's what scared him beyond belief, that he was willing to accept this. It's just once. One time. Never again… and once it's over with, we'll never even talk about it. It'll be like it never happened. What's the worst that could happen? So with that backwards logic, he carefully wrapped his arms around Roy's neck, pulling the other close.

That's much better. Roy moaned softly through the kiss, slowly moving his other hand back downward and trailing it over the other's still-uniformed chest. Damn uniforms! He abruptly stopped the kiss, pulling back enough to work on those buttons clumsily. He usually disrobed drunk, though if there was a correlation between the two, he wouldn't say. "Mn…" He growled softly at the buttons, finally managing to get that damned jacket undone and growling at the next challenge, a button-up white shirt. More buttons!

Archer slowly loosed his arms from around Roy's neck, undoing the buttons on his shirt and removing both jacket and shirt together. He would have folded them, but it wasn't like he was going to get time for that. So he shrugged them off onto the floor—something he'd never do, and glanced up at Roy. Did he want this? Did he really want this?

The Flame Alchemist attacked the exposed flesh of Archer's neck and shoulders with teeth and lips, gnawing and nipping, making sure to only go up as far as the uniform's collar would cover. They couldn't let this be seen—even shit-faced Roy knew that. So he kept trailing the kisses downward until he met with the belt of Archer's waistcoat. That was quickly discarded. "Wait… not 'ere."

"What?" Archer asked, unsure of what Roy meant, slipping out of his shoes as well, frowning as Roy started off. He hesitated only a moment before following. What the hell was he getting himself into? Why was he giving into desire? He knew better! But he wanted it.

Roy reached his room and immediately started tearing at his own jacket, noticing a button flying off in the back corners of his mind. Oh well. He'd find it later and get Riza to sew it back on. His shirt was removed, followed by pants and boxers, shoes and socks. Now nude and fully erect, he pulled Archer to him, sliding his hands back down past Archer's waistband again. Archer wasn't Hughes. Archer would never be his Maes. But he would do. He would replace the physical need that Roy had.

Archer moaned softly, almost afraid someone would hear them. How thick were these walls? What if someone on the other side of Roy's apartment heard? He finally slipped out of Roy's grasp, disposing of his pants and boxers, though not socks, and pulling Roy back down into a kiss. He wasn't doing this because it was Roy. This was for base, animalistic need. Even Archer had it. He needed to fulfill it.

"You've… never been wit' a man, 'ave yah?" Roy slurred again, shoving Archer down onto the bed, bedsprings squealing in protest.

"N-no. I haven't." Archer murmured, looking up at Roy. It was going to hurt. He wasn't stupid. Why the hell was he doing this?! Why did he do this to himself? Was he really so masochistic?

"Tha's a'right… virgins're the best." The other man laughed, nudging Archer's pale legs apart (and he'd thought Archer was pale before?) and squatting between them, eyeing the other's erection, as if he'd never seen someone else's before. He seemed to be thinking about what to do, before a light snapped in the back of his eyes and he leaned down.

"What are you—?" Archer was cut off as Roy's hot, warm, tight mouth surrounded his cock, those lips and tongue moving with the skill of a novice. It was still heaven to someone who hadn't even gotten an erection in months. "F-fuck…"

Roy smirked up at the other man, eyes closed tight and a small pained expression on his face. It briefly crossed Roy's mind; Why is he agreeing to this? But it quickly faded. He didn't care why Archer was doing this. Roy just had to pretend it was Maes. His dear Maes… the only man he'd ever love. He sat up slightly, still a little lop-sided vision-wise, and then let go of Archer altogether.

"The fuck you think you're doing!?" Archer hissed, glaring venomous daggers at Roy. Just when it was getting good—and the bastard stopped?! "What the hell are you waiting for?"

"Lube."

That one simple word said it all. Roy really was going to fuck him. Roy was going to fuck him dry?! "Hey, wait!" Archer immediately grabbed hold of Roy's forearms, icy eyes meeting onyx. "D-don't you dare fuck me dry!" He wanted this—yes, but he didn't want it to hurt that badly!

Roy leaned over and silenced any further complaints with a long, hard kiss, dominating forcefully, and clumsily, again. Of course he'd dominate. Archer had no real interest in dominating the kiss. But Roy didn't have any lubricant. What would he do? It finally snapped into place and he drew back, sucking loudly on three of his fingers before spreading Archer's legs again.

Saliva?! Archer was almost tempted to smack Roy right then and there. He was not about to have those fingers jammed up his ass, was he?!

Too late—Roy shoved two fingers past that lovely tight ring of muscle, groaning as he felt Archer clench around his fingers. It didn't seem to occur to him that this would hurt the other. No, did it really matter if it did? Who would know? Who would care if Apathetic Archer was limping around the office? No one. That's who.

Why the hell were men gay?! This wasn't fun or pleasurable or whatever the hell else they'd call it! This was torture! It hurt!! He writhed around for a few moments before finally resting his hands on Roy's shoulders, nails digging hard into flesh. "Stop!"

And for some reason, Roy felt compelled to obey. He pulled his fingers back quickly and just hovered over Archer tentatively, watching the other's unsteady breathing. "Why?"

"It fucking hurts!" Archer immediately snapped, glaring up at Roy. Dammit, it really had hurt! He was tearing up—and those were just Roy's fingers! He didn't want to see how big Roy was fully erect. He really didn't. Because he'd have to take that thing to the damn hilt if Roy had his way. "Please." He finally managed to add, pulling his nails from Roy's shoulder, leaving eight little marks.

"But…" All the time he'd dreamt about it, Maes had loved it. He'd screamed "More more! Please!" not "Stop!" Why was Archer so different? It just wasn't possible that Archer would be a different person from Hughes—not now at least. Not under him, not during sex.

Archer finally fell back against the sheets, tilting his head to let the cold pillow grace his cheek. "This is wrong, sir. It's fraternization with another male officer. This crime is punishable by death. We can't do such a stupid risky thing. And honestly, I don't want to be limping around the office for the next week and a half." Or more. Probably more. "Don't you see? I just don't want it."

Roy started trailing his hand down only to get it slapped away, sitting back on his knees and cradling said hand to his chest irritably. "Fuckin' fine! You'll be back!"

"I doubt that." Archer hissed in return, forcing himself to get up and dressed. He wouldn't return back to work, he'd call in sick or something. He couldn't go back. Not right now. And no, that wasn't just because he still had a lovely hard on. Ugh. Pants, boxers, shoes, and then back downstairs for shirt and uniform jacket, then Archer was out the door and off toward home, still irritable. He didn't want it. He never would. "I don't fucking need any physical contact." He grumbled to himself, balling his hands up into fists, nails to the flesh of his palms. "I haven't needed any physical contact for years! Why the hell would I need it now?!" But he really couldn't deny it anymore, he wanted it.

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Roy groaned, falling face first in the pillows. Way to mess up, smartass. He sighed and shifted a little, before drifting off to sleep. So what, he'd get that ass one day. Archer really wouldn't be able to resist for long. Hell, everyone had sexual urges. And he'd get them fulfilled one way. Through Roy.

…Unless he found a whore or something. Ugh. Shit. Roy groaned again and rolled over onto his back. Tomorrow was going to be hell.