It is dark by the time they make it back to base. Edward sits ramrod straight on the passenger side, his eyes fixed directly ahead as Roy leans out the driver's side window. They are both still in uniform – mostly – Edward's jacket is still in Roy's office. It is taking all of his self-control not to flush red, he is certain that even in darkness the M.P.s in the guard box will see the heat radiating off of his face.
He has had too much to drink. Edward knows that he has, he can feel the alcohol sloshing in his stomach and the intoxication is making his head buzz. He is drowsy and overly warm, but fighting through all of that were the words that Roy had murmured directly into his ear as they left the tavern.
Roy's breath had been warm on the back of his neck, sending a delightful shiver down his back. Edward inhaled deeply, and did not take his eyes from that fixed point as Roy took entirely far too long discussing the evening with the police on duty.
The tightness in Edward's pants was not going to go away anytime soon. Just the hint of Roy near him, Roy's warmth as they were squeezed into the too-small booth together with the others, Roy's breath feather-light on the back of his neck, Roy's hand on the small of his back steering him towards the standard-issue military vehicle and he was at full attention. Edward silently ran through the entire list of curses he had for his member, the thing had a mind of its own and he could barely control it. He refused to be aroused by the bastard colonel, he downright refused to.
Roy touches his arm, the pads of his fingers warm through the thin layer of collared dress shirt that Edward usually wore under the military jacket. Edward relents, his eyes darting first to the hand on his arm, and then to Roy's face. His eyes are utterly opaque in the darkness, it is hard enough to judge his emotions by daylight, in the darkness it is downright impossible. "Just up and back," Roy murmurs. "We'll get your coat and I'll take you home."
Edward swallows and licks his lips, his mouth unusually dry. Home is a small dark flat with a cold bed. He does not want to go home. "Okay," he says instead.
The base is still alive with activity, even at this time of the night. There are fewer people in the halls, and no one really gives them a second glance. Roy moves smoothly, his head held high. Edward envies him this, he knows that Roy drank at least as much as he did, but the alcohol does not seem to affect him in the same way.
Somehow, Edward does not stumble into the wall as he watches Roy walk ahead of him. Roy moves swiftly, confidentially. Edward's eyes follow the lines of his body almost without his permission, and when he realizes that his eyes have fixated on Roy's ass he jerks his head and looks away.
He is not getting turned on by his commanding officer. He is not. Edward continues this religious chant of self-denial as he follows Roy back into the office. They had had a fight in here earlier in the day, Edward smarting off and Roy snapping back, the origin of the fight already a distant memory. Their relationship flows so easily like that, no grudges held over their mutual clashes. Edward's eyes were drawn to his coat, still where he left it tossed over the back of the couch – and that is why he does not have enough time to react when Roy grabs him.
Edward stares at Roy's hand on his wrist, his eyes going to Roy's almost in a panic. Why is Roy touching him? Does he not realize what he touch does to Edward? Edward swallows, his eyes gone wide, and Roy's dark eyes are as inscrutable as always.
Roy hesitates. "Ed," he says, and the way he says Edward's name makes his cock twitch in his pants. Never before this has Edward ever been so grateful that the military trousers ride loose on him. Before another thought can cross his mind Roy tugs Edward to him. Edward does not have to think, he just does – one hand on Roy's neck, the other on his arm as Roy tilts him back to kiss him.
Everything is lost in this moment. Edward gasps against Roy's mouth, the taste of whiskey still lingers on his breath. Roy tips him back further off-balance, hiking Edward's leg with one hand to get them closer together. Edward closes his eyes and refuses to let the shame overtake him as Roy crushes them together.
His mind catches up to him a few seconds later. This is Roy Mustang that he is kissing – voluntarily. Edward twists his head to avoid another kiss and Roy nuzzles his neck, mouth and tongue leaving sloppy kisses down his jawline. He cannot reconcile this. The man who yelled at him just this afternoon, the man who sat squeezed between Edward and Jean in the tavern, the man who is now pressing their clothed groins together while he makes urgent noises against Edward's body – they cannot be all the same man.
But Roy is kissing him.
And Roy is grinding against him.
And … Roy is just as aroused as he is.
Roy lifts his head finally, a flush spread across his cheeks. Is that because of him? Edward finds this the weirdest bit endearing, he touches Roy's cheek with two fingers. "I'll shut the door," Roy states, his voice thick in a way Edward had never heard before.
"Okay," Edward says again.
