Then This
You never did answer my question.
I think that's okay now.
At first, I was truly pissed off when you walked out of my sight without another word and left me shouting 'Then what?' I was reaching the point of livid when you didn't say a single word all throughout Central Command.
Longest fifteen minutes of my life.
Then, once we headed away from the military base, you made one little comment that completely reversed my impending meltdown. "How about a quiet dinner?"
My glorious response, "Huh?" I'm sure the wide-eyed, gaping mouth look added to my stupidity.
But you just smiled back at me. The one I love so much. Not the military 'yes, sir, I'm happy to do that' smile, or even the 'I'm sure there's a perfect girl out there for you Havoc' smile, but your genuine 'I'm just happy' smile. "Dinner, Ed. Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"Well, sure, but it's like two o'clock in the afternoon." I began to walk further away from headquarters, moving to pass Rodger's newspaper stand that I visit every morning before I go to your office – at least when I went to your office. I wanted you further away from headquarters. You seem more relaxed when there is some distance between you and work.
"I know. I was planning on having dinner at my home."
"Oh", I replied quickly, "can you cook?" If I had been thinking clearer I would have known not to say that. Why can't I focus on more than one thing at a time? I was so focused on getting you away . . .
But instead of getting ticked off at my flippant remark, you just laughed. "Just because I'm single doesn't mean I can't cook."
"Yeah, well, I'm not so good at it." Let's hope that makes up for my ill timed remark.
"That I believe. But I do plan on making you help."
After that we walked down to the outdoor market. Since it is Central, the city relies upon outside farming communities for their goods. Almost no one in Central grows their own crops – I'd say no one, but then there would be the one person who is a complete health nut that grows their own food. But that's not really the point. The outdoor market is a large gathering of farmers who haven't made agreements with sellers in Central, or those who have excess goods to sell.
I've been down here a few times, but I find that the corner market is much more accessible.
Plus, going here requires a degree of effort, which I usually don't want to give.
Still, wandering through the various stalls with you was fun. We both knew quite a bit about each other already, but that was only really surface level stuff – things like work. Our first date let me actually get to know you – the you that existed outside of work. Now this felt like a continuation from that point. Finding out what kind of foods you liked was just one more step towards . . .
I hope I'm not making more out of this than there is.
Either way, I got to spend some time with you and in public nonetheless. You didn't seem shy at all. Occasionally, you would place your hand on the small of my back or take a hold of my shoulder with your hand to guide me in a different direction.
Such light touches . . . that meant so much.
We arrived at your home a little after 3:30 in the afternoon.
Last time I didn't get to see the inside, but if the outside was any indicator it was pretty nice. Probably clean too – from a maid.
I wish I had a maid. Then again, I wish I had one dog less at home as well.
I wonder if they already ate all of the food I left out?
"Ed, are you just going to stand there or come inside?"
I blinked a few times and grinned sheepishly for letting my mind wander off. "Uh, no, coming."
I quickly went up the three steps to your porch and stepped inside. I wasn't surprised by how nice it was inside, but I was really worried about messing something up. I wouldn't admit this outwardly, but I knew I was the metaphorical bull in a Xing shop. I just seemed to attract that sort of attention.
From what I could see, there were hardwood floors throughout the house except for the room in the back where tile began. I'm guessing that's the kitchen. Most of the furniture was reddish-brown leather with chestnut wood. There were several area rugs that gave color to the room. But by far my favorite was the wall length bookcase that was filled with books. They lined the shelves in various colors of blue, green, red, black, or brown stating their titles in gold embossed print. Some look rather worn but others were practically new.
It was then that I noticed the home wasn't as perfect as my initial impression led me to believe.
There was an additional pile of books next to a well used chair that was placed just right beside the fireplace and outdoor window. Newspapers were piled up next to the door. Stacks of papers were placed on a dining room table of sorts – probably papers Hawkeye is still asking for.
Granted it was still neat, but I felt more at ease.
You and I are alike in this.
"Follow me." I guess you were done letting me inspect the place.
I quickly fell in line behind you practically grinning from ear to ear. I didn't know why but I just felt happy. "So what do I do first?"
As we worked to make dinner, you turned on a record player for some background noise. It played some old song I wasn't familiar with – but it wasn't bad. In the kitchen, you were cutting up some mushrooms as I sat on the counter. Who was I to stand ceremony? I am who I am and the counter was the best place for me to sit. Those kitchen chairs, way too far away. With nothing else to do at the moment, I tried to get more information about you; especially your family. I already knew that you grew up in a farming community and that your family was large, but I didn't have too many details. After all, you know so much about mine.
"You really have an interest in families." I scowled a little as you laughed.
"It's just that they're a big part of anyone's life." I felt the need to justify my interest.
"Even if I don't really keep in contact with them anymore?"
"Yes, because there's got to be a reason for it."
I watched as you laughed again at my statement. You turned around to let our eyes meet. I must have looked dead serious because you began with, "Alright, I give. What do you want to know about them?"
When you said you came from a large family you really weren't kidding. You were the seventh and final child in your family. You had two older sisters and four older brothers. Of those, both girls and two of the boys were twins. You gave me their names but it was lost information. I was still musing over the idea of identical siblings. Your dad grew various crops including some of my favorites like peas.
You laughed when you said that your mom was the strict type – similar to Hawkeye. You even joked that may be the reason you "put up" with Hawkeye. I replied that the reason you put up with your lackeys is because you had six other siblings.
You spoke so fondly of them all. It was such a different side of you. The way you talked was softer almost as if you where reminiscing about something.
But when I asked why you didn't see your mom anymore, it was the first time you got quiet. Up until that moment, there wasn't a pause in our conversation. I watched your eyes lower and a small frown form on your face. All you said was that you would like to see her again – someday.
I wanted to ask why, but decided it was best left to some other day. Plus, I had just finished setting up the table for dinner and was reclaiming my spot on the counter. You had been busy dividing up the meal into two portions.
I needed to perk you back up and quickly. The best way was to ask about the dissolution of the Council.
Just like Scruffy for a doggie treat, you suddenly stood a little straighter, your eyes widened and brighten up, and the beginnings of a smile could be seen on your face. You talked about how all eligible military personnel have already been contacted about the position of Fuhrer with yourself included. However, along with the Senate, the Council would be involved with choosing the new Fuhrer. A fact that you were not particularly fond of since the Council seemed to favor Brigadier General Ebner.
I knew who Ebner was. He was a stocky, average height man that seemed permanently angry. His grey hair was balding so that there was a circle on the top of his head that reflected light. I think he polished it in the morning. However, despite his physical appearance, the real reason I didn't like him was due to the fact that he could never make a decision. He was the living embodiment of "sitting on the fence". Then again, this is probably the reason the Council wanted him for Fuhrer.
You, on the other hand, will do whatever you want. Who cares about advisors?
Another reason why I like you.
Upon coming to this conclusion I decided to relay that information to you. It was risky, but maybe, just maybe, I could begin to find answers to the questions I was afraid to ask.
So I said it, "But you're not like that. That's why I like you." I hate that my voice softened towards the end.
I must have caught you by surprise since you dropped one plate onto the table. Luckily, it didn't have too far to go – only an inch or so. You quickly regained your composure and headed back my way.
You stepped in close so that I had to part my legs to make room for your body or risk kneeing you in the gut. I sat up straight quickly and pulled back a bit nervously. I heard the soft thunk of my head hitting the overhead cabinets – odd but I didn't feel it. You placed one hand on the outside of my parted thighs and cupped the left side of my face with your free hand.
Now locked in this position, you leaned in to whisper, "And that's one of the things I like about you." Then, you placed a fleeting, but welcomed kissed on my surprised lips. "Come on, let's eat."
I'm not sure if you aware of this but at that moment my legs weren't working – at all.
Neither was my brain.
I managed to put an affirmative nod together and carefully pushed myself off the counter.
After dinner, I helped clean up despite being extremely sleepy.
I know I questioned your ability to cook prior to all of this, but my doubts have been silenced. Dinner consisted of a tender cut of pork glazed in some kind of sweet sauce. I don't know what it is – even though I watched you make it – all I know is that I liked it. You had also made some kind of mixed rice dish and an assortment of vegetables that I admitted I ate.
It was like eating at a restaurant. Mark me surprised.
It wasn't that late into the evening so I settled onto your couch as you located a program on the radio you liked.
I was feeling so content with . . . with everything. It felt like we were already together. As if I had been living you all this time.
I wished that I didn't have to leave at the end of this.
Once you had selected the program, you returned to share the couch with me. Its soft sound was comforting to listen to. The warm feeling of the two of us side-by-side adding to my comfort.
For awhile we sat in companionable silence just listening.
I was completely unprepared for your question.
"Why did you stay, Ed?"
It was the first time you looked away from me. I know I do that to hide, but when did you need to?
I decided to antagonize you a bit, "Stay where?"
You didn't turn back towards me at all. Instead you let out a heavy sigh, "I'm serious Ed, don't play around."
The hint at anger in your tone was more than enough to set me straight. I knew why I had chosen to stay. I had come back because I knew no other way to live. I had come back because I had nothing else to hold onto – much less believe in. I had come back because . . .
. . . of you – nothing more.
But I couldn't say that could I?
My prolonged silence must have irritated you more, "Dammit Ed! Just . . ."
I cut you off, "Just tell you why, I know." I let my voice soften to the point of sadness. "I don't know if I can say it."
"I had asked you once before, when did you stop trusting me, Ed? Or should I say Fullmetal?"
The sound of the code name hurt in ways I couldn't describe. I was Ed – Ed! Don't you dare change that now!
I felt the urge to lean forward to hide behind my bangs once again, but . . . I didn't. I knew tears welled in my eyes. I could hear the throbbing of blood pulsing in my ears. My breath grew short – emotion shrinking my lungs. And yet this anger pushed me on.
One more risk.
This could end everything, but dammit it all you asked.
"Fine! You want a reason. I came back because I know no other way to live. I sure as hell can't stay in quiet Resembool. I came back because I had nothing else." I let you take those excuses in. Then, I let my voice drop back down to a quiet, normal tone. "But the real reason I came back was because of you."
I watched you turn back to face me – a look of worry and skepticism in your eyes.
I continued, "And I never stopped trusting you. I just distance myself. Because you said one word to me 'agreeable'. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?"
Okay, so maybe a description should have come with that statement, but I knew what it meant.
"Agreeable? How . . . why?" The mark of confusion was clearly written on you.
"A long while back, I started acting better. You described me as more agreeable."
"And this upset you?"
I let out weak, "Yeah."
"And that meant this much?"
And now I'm pissed off again, "Yes! Oh, just forget it." And everything had been going to well.
Well, now you know how I feel and you don't show any sign of returning the favor. Was this all over now? Did I manage to kill it by wanting something I can't have?
I heard you laugh and the sharp pang in my heart worsened. "I didn't know I had such an effect."
I felt everything just stop. No sound, no movement, no feelings, nothing at all.
You continued, "I'm sorry if that hurt you. I'm sure I meant it to be a compliment. As for . . . well come here."
I pushed as far away from you as I could on the couch. I don't know if I succeeded, but I tried to stare back at you like a wet cat – really ticked off. I wanted you to know that it had hurt. Even if I had already forgiven you.
Wait, you said you were sorry?
You softened your voice to a tone you knew I liked, "Please, Ed?"
I sat a little closer, but not too close.
After a quiet moment, I moved in closer so that I was snuggled up next you. The truth is that I like it here. Smug bastard. You, then, freed the arm I had temporary pinned between us and placed it around me.
I felt a bout of nervousness when I realized that my right, metal, arm was at your fingertips. What if that . . .
That's when I felt those fingers playing with a few strands from my bangs.
I felt you shift to look at me by placing yourself almost in the corner of the couch. That same hand moved and freed my hair from the ponytail I had placed it in. You seemed to be scrutinizing me.
You faced was screwed into a questioning look and I had to ask, "Now what?"
"Why don't you wear your hair down?" Your hands moved to pull some of it forward so that it lay against either shoulder.
"Because it's hot. It gets in the way and it's not," I felt the grin spreading on my face, "in military regulation."
"Well, that's true, but I could have fixed that problem years ago."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that since you passed the exam, I've dealt with comments regarding your hair and general appearance."
"You never told me anything." I sat back a little bit.
"Because then I would have had to do something about."
"So, you're being lazy again?"
"No," I listened to you laugh again. You moved again to close the distance between us so that your lips were close to brushing against my left shoulder. "I didn't want this hair cut before I could do this."
I wasn't given any time to react before you grabbed a hold of my hair forcing my head to tilt back. The momentum of the movement pushed me backwards until my back hit the cushions of the sofa. In this new position, I began to feel you place quick, soft kisses against my throat as you moved up to my mouth. Once there, you pressed your lips against mine in a fierce, hungry kiss.
My mind ceased trying to make sense of the situation once you had begun to kiss me.
I moved to wrap my arms around your shoulders as our bodies shifted seeking a comfortable position – your weight on top of me.
Your tongue pressed against my lips and I opened them eagerly. I shivered slightly at the contact and felt a rush of pure desire course through my body. Your moan audible as your tongue began sliding against my own. My own natural response caused my hips to move upwards seeking to press against yours.
I knew that this could be moving too fast, too sudden. Weren't we just fighting?
But I didn't care about what consequence may lie ahead or what questions were left unanswered.
You just felt good.
You broke our kiss off letting us both gasp for much needed air. I looked into your eyes searching for some sign that this was okay. However, a second rush pulsed through me when I could see just how lost in this you were. Your eyes were so dark, your chest was heaving in rhythm to mine . . . I wondered if I looked the same.
I wonder what caused this shift.
I managed one word, "Roy" before you resumed your desired assault on my body – your mouth latching onto and sucking at the joint of my neck and left shoulder. I wanted to cry out your name, but it was lost in some incomprehensible sound I uttered.
I felt you shift your weight again – allowing some space to come between our bodies. I heard the creak of leather near my head as your hand began to support the weight your knees weren't taking. Your free hand was unknown to me until I felt it sliding upwards underneath my shirt.
Your fingertips brushed across my belly as you moved upwards towards my chest. That hand didn't stop until you found my left nipple and pinch it lightly. My body bucked upwards seeking yours again as another strangle cry ripped from my lips. My hand clutching onto your shoulder – desperately trying to drag you back down.
I want . . . I wanted more . . . anything . . . contact . . .
My mind was so muddled.
My body was screaming for any further contact.
Touch me . . . more . . . more . . .
I listen to your soft laughter as you nuzzled against my neck. Using your position to your advantage, you pulled my shirt upwards exposing my chest.
I didn't care about what you were going to so long as . . . so long as . . .
You lowered yourself between my now parted legs. You pressed a kiss to my belly before you licked a line up to my chest causing another wave of desire to force a moan from my lips. My left hand found its way to your head and I grabbed on feeling the short strands of hair between my fingers.
I heard you whisper, "So eager" as your lips closed in around my nipple and began to tug. At first the touch was light, then when you used your teeth to gain a better grip, it became rougher. You began to alternative between bites, lick, small kisses . . .
I was so lost in anything you were willing to give me.
I felt you move downwards again – your lips pausing to gently kiss my exposed stomach. My hand had released your hair. Soon, your hand was placed on top of the hem of my pants.
You looked up at me. I was completely breathless. My body ached and . . . oh, I don't know anymore.
"Ed, can I?"
Just the sound of your voice made me want to arch into that hand. But I hesitated.
"I can always stop if . . . if you want to."
I could distantly hear the sound of the radio, but my heart beat was much louder.
I nodded yes.
"Yes?" You confirmed.
"Y-yes." The word can out in a ragged breath. Just don't stop.
I saw that wolfish smile spread across your face.
I just agreed to be yours.
I didn't hear anything until I felt your hand cupping me in my pants. I cried out as you said something to the effect of "No underwear". I was desperately clutching the side of the couch as you began to fondle me. My ability to breathe was quickly vanishing.
In one easy moment you freed my aching member from its confines. Your hand sliding over it encouraging the growing erection.
I wasn't sure what you had planned. I was the one on my back, my chest exposed, and now my pants undone while you were still completely clothed.
I was trying to form the question in my head when I felt your hand tighten its grip around my erect cock. I grabbed into the couch tighter since I couldn't find you and cried out your name.
Your name finally came out right.
I watched the expression on your face change to something more . . . more possessive. I was ready to beg under that new look.
You just gave me a grin before you lowered your head. When I first felt your soft tongue run over the tip of my cock, I screamed your name again. Soon, I was chanted it like some sort of strange prayer as your lips covered the head of my member.
And continued further down.
I was gasping in short breaths as I watched my cock disappear into the warmth of your mouth. Your tongue always sliding against the underside of my member making me ache – creating a pressure I was dying to release.
You pulled back after one hard suck making me nearly lose it. I felt that tongue lick a line against the underside of my aching erection as your hand moved to slide your thumb against the soft skin behind my sac. As if to let me know where this could go.
I felt my body tighten against the movement. Telling me I actually wanted this to happen.
I tried to glance back down at you to see if this is what you planned to do.
I was instead interrupted by the returning warmth of your mouth. I felt you begin to move faster, suck harder, until I couldn't hold out any longer.
My vision spotted.
I came into your awaiting mouth and felt the muscles in your throat work to swallow all that I released.
When I finally came back from the high you had given me, I realized you had covered me back up. Thankfully, you were still on top of me.
My arms felt heavy, but I still managed to wrap them around you – hugging you against me. We stayed this way as you let me regain my breath. When you were satisfied that I had caught up enough, you moved to kiss me and I met you halfway. I felt our lips touch as I desired to deepen our kiss. I felt our tongues touch once again and wondered if this is what I tasted like.
What about you?
I wanted to know.
I wanted to know if I could do the same to you.
I lay beneath you wondering about the impact of what just happened.
After all, aren't you . . . you know needing . . . I suppose I could try. But what if I was bad at it? Obviously you aren't and I'd wouldn't . . . And then I probably need to ask you . . . to you know . . . how to . . .
The now familiar sense of nervousness settled on me.
I wanted to, but the 'what ifs' are scaring the hell out of me. And asking you about how you . . . did that was probably turning me new shades of red.
I really am such a kid.
You moved to sit up. I tightened my grip around your neck so that you pulled me upright into your lap. I really just didn't want to let go of you right now. Cuddled up against you felt so right even if I wasn't sure about what came next.
So far we hadn't said a thing.
Maybe I should?
You began to stand up making me slide off my desired spot on your lap and back onto the couch.
At first, I wasn't sure if I did something wrong, but then I noticed that you were holding out your left hand to me.
"Come on." That was all you said.
For once, I was glad that my mouth moved quicker than my mind. Because if I had thought about it, I would have never asked. "Where?"
You smiled and stated, "To bed."
Uh, whoa! I mean . . . did I . . . what about . . . should I . . . "Uh, w-what?"
I heard a soft laugh escape you. "Ed, I just don't want you to leave tonight. Nothing more."
The blonde in me blinked absent-minded as if trying to process something far too great for my mind. But as I placed my own hand into your awaiting one, I knew I was silently acknowledging that I trusted your words.
I followed you into your bedroom – nervousness gnawing away at my sanity with every step.
You left me standing in the room while you disappeared into some unknown location. I glanced around the room wondering what should I do next? I knew about the rumors, but so far you haven't been anything like that.
You really haven't asked me to do anything.
Yet.
Maybe.
I don't know.
When you returned you handed me a small bundle of clothes and once again I felt lost. Unfolding one item I began to understand as you said, "I don't suppose you sleep in those."
I glanced downwards at the leather pants and thought about the number of times I had curled up on a train bench for nap. I slept just fine in fact. Well, that is until Al yelled, "Ed, this is our stop!"
"Actually, I have."
You had turned to walk off to another part of the home and paused at my response. For a moment, I waited to see if you would reply, but then you continued on your way. Leaving me here again.
I began to change into the clothes you had provided. I was grateful that you had decided to disappear and allowed me to change in private. Weird preference, I know, especially when you consider what had just happened.
The clothes appeared to have been an academy uniform at one time. The grey T-shirt bore the military insignia in the upper left hand section of the shirt and beneath that the name 'Mustang' was stitched on. It made me smile. The pants were made of a light weight material and colored in military blue.
As it is both were too big. Nothing ever fits me right, which is probably why I don't vary my clothing style. If it fits, I'll buy in bulk.
The shirt was too wide at the collar, but not so wide that it fell off one shoulder. Another round of silent thanks. The short sleeves hung just slightly below my elbows and the bottom hem hit me about mid-thigh. The pants hung loosely around my waist, but were luckily equipped with an elastic band to hold them up. They were also too long so I had to roll them up a bit.
Even as I cursed your height, I was glad that they were pants instead of shorts because . . . well because shorts are just that short. I know that you've seen my arm and you know about my leg, but . . .
My leg has always been hidden.
You've had time to get accustomed to seeing my arm. About six years in fact. The leg is a different story.
It has always been hidden underneath black boots and leather pants. I've never worn shorts around you. The only place I even think about wearing shorts is when Winry is fixing up my leg or I'm going to bed – alone. Well, maybe Al was around since we usually share a room. Everywhere else is a strict pants only policy.
It sounds funny that I would be so anxious to hide it, but it makes me different. Not that yellow eyes or possessing an intellectual understanding to rival most adults at twelve didn't make me different enough. But I can close my eyes or look away and I can pretend to be dumb. I can't hide the dull sound metal makes as I walk. And I can't hide the glint the metal on a sunny afternoon without covering up. Even then, I know it looks odd. Who wears a coat in summer? Or gloves? But if I don't cover it up – I get people like that mother staring at me.
I can't help but feel like some kind of strange novelty placed out on display.
If that's how others see me – what about you?
I shook my head to clear away the doubts and placed my clothes on a chair in the corner of the room.
No. You wouldn't do that to me.
Because you never have.
I can trust you with this. You haven't let me down before.
I noticed that you had returned at some point in my mental wanderings. You were pulling down the bed sheets.
The nagging voice of doubt left one last thought. You haven't let me down professionally. Remember how you called me 'agreeable'.
But you apologize for that.
But it could happen again.
Shut up.
"Have you come back?"
Your voice silenced doubt's because I like to listen to you more. "Huh?"
"I guess not."
"Yeah, I tend to do that." I tried to explain. Then I smiled, "So, had to see me in uniform?"
I watched you smile that smile again – the one I loved so much. "I suppose it's close enough. Shame it's too . . ."
"Watch it." I cut you off playfully.
You laughed again, "Okay. You sleep on your right side." You said that as a strange hybrid between a statement and a question.
"Oh, uh, yeah." The small amount of confidence I had gained in joking banter had dissipated in a flash. That persistent pain in the ass anxiety returned making my gut twist.
I listened to the sound of sheets rustling as I stared at the burgundy comforter. Odd, I'd always thought that it would be blue.
"Come here."
Placing a moratorium on all further thought, I crawled into your bed. I let you guide me until was comfortably on my right side with my back up against you. I placed my head on the pillow and could pick out the scent I had come to know as you.
Which side of the bed did you sleep on? Was I on your side?
Where I laid did feel lived in, but with those rumors – well it was possible. Maybe you didn't sleep alone all that often. Then again the only scent I can find on this pillow is yours. No perfume – nothing else at all.
I felt your arm wrap itself around my waist. I shifted slightly onto my back in order to turn to face you – to say what I wasn't sure.
"Hm, Ed?" You moved to look back at me.
"Uh . . . I don't know." I could feel the beginnings of blush warming my face.
The arm at my waist left and now cradled one side of my face. I shut my eyes anticipating what was to come as I felt you press a chaste kiss to my lips. I was tempted to ask for more, but then . . . well, I might have to ask you how you did that earlier.
In all honesty, I'm glad you didn't ask me. Even though I want to be with you – the serious stuff scares me. Hell, I couldn't believe what happened on the couch.
The arm moved back down to its former position and tugged me against you in some sort of hug. "Get some sleep, Ed."
I resettled on my side.
You hadn't lied to me. You said that you wanted me to stay and nothing more.
For the first time, I didn't think about the volume of questions I had concerning us.
I awoke the next morning still curled up on my side. Personally, I was glad that I hadn't whacked you in the middle of the night with either metal limb. If I had, there was little doubt that you would want to get away from me as soon as possible.
It was then that I realized I had woke up alone.
Distantly, I could hear water running as I glanced at the clock. It was 7:24 in the morning. Far too early for me to be up.
But then again it is Monday. There are staff meetings on Monday.
Do I have to go?
It was then that I got an early morning surprise. From where I was curled up on the bed, I got to watch you walk by with nothing but a towel on. Your hair still drying.
Okay, so I was awake now.
I waited until you were just beyond my sight, "G'morning."
"Good morning, Ed."
I listened to the soft sound of your steps as they receded from my location. I sat up and stretched in an attempt to care about moving.
This was kinda fun. The feeling that we have been together all along took hold of me again. Making me far too comfortable.
You returned with half your uniform on. The military blue pants were on, but the jacket was missing. The white, button-up shirt you always wear hung open revealing your chest.
And to think at one point in time, I actually wanted hurt you. Well, I really just wanted to get rid of that smug grin.
I guess I had been staring because you remarked, "Like what you see?"
Unfortunately, I had been on a bad line of thought, "Smug bastard." It was quickly followed with 'I'm an idiot' in my head.
I watched you walk over to where I was seated on your bed. Panic gripped my mind. Had I managed to really piss you off this time?
I felt your fingers run thorough my loose hair as one hand moved to tug my chin up. You leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Such a mouth. I'm going to have to teach you to use it better."
I felt my entire face heat as my sight blurred. I felt your weight cause the bed to dip slightly telling me you were now seated beside me.
I heard you say "Hmm, I didn't miss it this time."
I knew you were referring to my tendency to blush at your comments. Can I help it that I was so new to this? And that you're not.
I began to stammer, "Wha . . . I-I mean . . ." I watched the playful look on your face fade into something more serious as you moved closer towards me.
Your fingers touched my exposed collar and trailed up to my throat. The touch was so light – almost uncertain.
I leaned into it hoping for more. This seemed to encourage you. But instead of getting more contact from your body, you stated in a low voice, "Make-up for it."
I gulped and replied, "What?"
"You said something hurtful. Make-up for it."
For a moment, a familiar childish urge pressed me to argue back – to refuse your blatant order.
Silencing it quickly, I wondered what would do? I wasn't really sure what you wanted from me. I pushed myself up so that I was on my knees and crawled over to you placing myself in your lap.
I didn't have anything planned. I just happen to like it here.
I felt your hands slip around my waist – securing me into my current position. Your hands rested and warmed the small of my back.
I glanced back at you to see a slight, smug grin on your face. Cocky bastard.
Uncertain and rather shaky, I attempted to mimic your movements. I leaned in close to begin a simple, gentle kiss. Hoping that as our lips met, I wouldn't do anything embarrassing like smashing our teeth together.
But as my mouth met yours with a soft touch – I felt all other worries vanish.
I had placed my left hand against your bare chest in order to balance myself, but, as I felt a bit bolder, I began to wonder if I should do more with it. Lightly, I moved my hand over the right side of your chest brushing over your nipple. Even now I felt the blush creeping in at the bold movement, but my reward for such a move was to hear the low hiss you made as I touched you.
I had left my right arm at my side.
Continuing my imitated movements, I ended the sweet kisses by licking along your lips to ask for entrance as you did. When you parted your lips, I had planned to move in, but you obviously had other ideas.
The hands that were lightly placed against the small of my back suddenly pulled tight. While one hand remained to hold me in place, the other slid up my back to play with my loose hair. You, then, took control of the kiss I had begun. I felt your tongue push its way into my mouth.
I groaned at the contact and shifted slightly in your lap. I pulled my left hand up off your chest to lay the arm over your shoulder – pulling us tighter together. Responding to your tongue, I began to move my own against it.
I felt the hand at the small of my back move further down. I felt it slide past the loose waist band of my borrowed pants and grip my ass firmly. I jumped slightly forward at the touch – pressing our groins together.
I moaned into our joined mouths and shifted in your lap again to continue the touch.
That's when you broke off our kiss and attempted to still my movements.
I was so confused. Hadn't this been going right? "What . . . d-did I . . ."
You placed you head against the juncture of my throat – where flesh met metal.
"No, Ed. It's just . . ."
"Just what?" I jerked back a bit in order to face you. I needed to know what in the hell just happened. I had thought everything felt good.
"Well, anymore and I'm not going work."
"Oh," was all I managed to reply. I could feel my eyes widen in shock at your response, but at the same time I felt a little bit proud.
I have an effect on you.
After another quick kiss, you placed me back onto the bed. All you stated was that, "I need to get to work."
"Because Hawkeye will kill you?"
I heard something similar to a scoff come from the bathroom as your response. When you finally came back out, you looked more like the General I knew so well. As you pulled the jacket over the now slightly wrinkled white shirt, "You know you do have to come in today."
"Make me?" I tried.
"Very funny. I'll have Hawkeye call your home as a reminder. Get home by ten. The meeting isn't until after lunch."
"Fine."
You turned to leave the room, "Oh, and Ed?"
"Yeah."
You dug something out of a dresser drawer and walked back over to me. So far I hadn't left my comfortable spot on your bed. "Here. Use this."
I felt the small, cold item pressed into my palm. Then you turned and left for Central Command.
When I looked down I realized that it was a key.
And a new key at that.
It looked like it had never been used – let alone given to anyone before.
I smiled at this thought.
A/N: Reviewing makes me happy.
