WHOLE LIVES, CHAPTER 7: "FOXTROT ECHO ECHO"

A Sequel to Half Lives

By the Binary Alchemist 2011

He didn't slam down the receiver. Hawkeye appreciated that, as did Kain who usually got stuck with scrounging up replacement parts on short notice.

He placed the receiver gently back on the cradle then leaned back in to the softness of his leather chair. It was a new one, one of the few perks he had requested other than secretaries that were as accurate and efficient as they were comely to look at. After all, he had told his staff, if he had to spend the lion's share of his day cooped up inside he might as well have pleasant company. And since he didn't request a bevy of mincing, screeching drag queens or a throne of gold, they complied without a complaint.

Roy's presidential office was a comfortable den with leather upholstery, smart, pretty women, its own kitchenette with two coffee urns—and doors that locked securely on the inside, should Roy reach the boiling point and need a half hour of solitude to calm down.

"Code, sir?"

Roy sipped his coffee and considered. He didn't glance up at her. "Beta Oscar, Colonel Hawkeye. See to it."

'Yes, sir!"

Code Beta Oscar meant "bugger off"—Roy needed to be left alone. Immediately. Hawkeye knew the codes by heart. Code Red was a national emergency. Code Alpha—short for Code Armstrong—meant a security breach requiring armed guards. Code Presto meant there was Someone To Be Avoided on the way to Roy's office—and Roy would use the private egress behind the bookcase to vanish by the time the unwanted visitor arrived. The egress led down the steps to the infamous underground tunnel—now cleaned up and a private walk and bike path that allowed the staff to get quickly from one part of the city to the other, including a private access way to the wine cellar of Chris Mustang's restaurant..

And then there was Code Foxtrot Echo Echo. Only Hawkeye, Havoc, Sebastian, Maria Ross, Denny Brosh and now Ruby understood its significance. "It means the Chief and Ed are…ah…lemme see how to put this…." Havoc scratched his head and grinned sheepishly at Ruby. "They're umm….polishing the leather upholstery-"

"—with their asses. Kind of figured that out," Ruby grumbled. "Do the taxpayers know the Fuhrer is fucking in the office they pay for?"

Sebastian, who had been unobtrusively servicing the Fuhrer's coffee urn, smiled faintly. "I would believe that the amount of overtime that His Excellency puts in on a weekly basis more than compensates. Besides," he added over his shoulder, "alchemy cleans the leather most efficiently."

Ruby wrinkled her nose. "Huh! Next time I get called to his office, I think I'll just stand "

"Ruby, if you're afraid to touch any surface the Chief and the Boss have fucked on, you'd better pitch a tent on the south lawn—"

"South lawn's not safe either," Hawkeye corrected.

"—or the stable-"

"Doubtful—"

"—uh….the walk in freezer?" Havoc ventured hopefully? Hawkeye shook her head.

"The ice cream incident before that luncheon summit with the Youswell Mining Consortium," Sebastian offered helpfully.

Ruby glared at her superiors, fists jammed on her hips. "Alphonse would never behave like that!" she protested loudly with a stamp of her foot for emphasis.

Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye, and Sebastian exchanged glances. Major Havoc burst out in a loud guffaw of uncontrolled mirth, Colonel Hawkeye's face tightened as if she were taking great pains to restrain an outburst, while the butler politely bit his lower lip and polished the coffee urn with astonishing vigor, dark eyes twinkling.

Code Bravo Oscar.

He had time to collect his thoughts.

They always find out in the end, Maes. And it's not as if you lied. Like any good intelligence officer, you disclosed only what was needful and no more. Gracia probably asked about old girlfriends. Doubtful it ever crossed her mind to inquire if you'd ever slept with another man-or men. Skilled as you were, I doubt I was your first. I think somebody educated you. Either that or—hell, Maes, you always were a damn good study. Not that I cared. But….now she knows…and it's not Ed's fault.

"…..I want some serious fuckin' goin' on. I don't care who fucks who…but I wanna break some bed slats. Okay?"

Those words intruded on Roy's reverie and he smiled into his coffee mug, eyes coming to rest on a framed photo taken at the Grand Promenade of Spring held at Prince Claudio's castle. Maes…it was good with you…so damn good…but every moment was stolen, even before you married. We hid ourselves, kissed in shadows. But with Edward…

Edward had nothing to hide. Their relationship had been thrust into the public eye thanks to Radio Capital and the smarmy reports from Frank Archer, currently incarcerated with The Lonely Boys, a bunch of hard-timers who had converted to Letoism before Frank was transferred to their cell. Archer had been warned that his cell mates were notorious for buggering newcomers—instead he was being driven crazy by attempts to convert him to the Sun God's flock.

Frank had Outed Roy and Edward—and they would never be In-ed again after that night they appeared as consorts at the Royal Court of Aerugo…

It was not exactly fancy dress but per protocol the Amestrians would be presented with finery more suited to the occasions than the formal black evening wear that was customary for men in Amestris. The frock coats seemed rather foppish to Roy, and only with the aid of tactful persuasion from Alphonse would Ed consent to putting it on, and only if the ruffled shirtfront was transmuted into something pleated, high collared and conservative, his automail prosthesis thankfully ruled out court knee breeches and dancing pumps. Instead the Amestrians sported dark long trousers, simple cravats and waistcoats and their frock coats may have been soberly cut but of the very richest fabrics.

Roy had admired his reflection in every mirror he passed, as the midnight blue suited him excellently. Alphonse looked elegant in a dark emerald and aeronaut's silk scarf, but when Ed came down the steps in dark crimson velvet Roy's mouth fell open, his trousers became dangerously tight and if Dr. Knox had been measuring his heart rate he would have become quite alarmed indeed.

And from the way his lover had frozen half-way down the stairs, amber eyes wide with surprise, it seemed as if the reaction was mutual.

To the general surprise and tacit approval of the assembled, Edward and Roy entered the Contrapasso Processional Pavanne, the ancient formal dance of Aerugo courts that the Amestrians had agonized over for weeks. It threw the balance off, as some of the passes required women to move and clasp hands of other partners, but Claudio had thoughtfully paired Edward and Roy in quartet with Alphonse and Claudio's young sister Elena, who was so delighted to be partnered by the handsome younger Elric that she took no notice of the way Edward and Roy were staring at one another and the heat that was passing between their glances.

For someone who openly swore he detested dancing, Edward's usual self consciousness and social awkwardness had vanished. He moved with surprising grace, pacing through the figures, his gloved hand resting under Roy's since custom dictated that when partners of the same gender danced together the partner of higher status always led. "That's okay," Ed had whispered as he tugged on his dancing gloves. "Long as I'm on top later."

Halfway through the evening Ed had called Roy out for a private word on the balcony. Before the Fuhrer could ask what was wrong he was shoved roughly through the hedge, against the castle wall and pounced upon by a wild eyed golden lover who bit him sharply on the neck and hissed, "goddamn…you're not supposed to look this good." Before Roy could splutter out a retort, Ed had wrapped himself around his lover, straddling Roy's right thigh. "I had to go jerk off in the men's room thanks to you, asshole!"

"Wha—what?"

"Got me so hot, just looking at you…not being able to touch you…"

Roy's hands slid under the crimson coat, digging into the taut, muscled back, feeling that he couldn't pull his mate close enough. He planted the sole of his fine dancing slipper against the mossy stone wall, raising his thigh. Edward mounted it and began to rock his hips, rubbing himself against hard muscle, growling softly and panting into Roy's ear. "Want you…aww FUCK…right now…so good…"

"….tell me what you want…"

'….mmm….want your tongue…right now…"

Edward shivered and Roy would have been on his knees in seconds if Alphonse and Elena hadn't come looking for them…

"Hey."

Roy glanced up and smiled. "Hey yourself. Had dinner?"

Ed shrugged. "Not hungry."

"That's a first."

Ed scrubbed the back of his neck vigorously, yanked out his hair tie and shook his mane free. "It's…been kinda stressful, past few hours."

"I can imagine."

"Nope." Ed sighed heavily. "Not sure you can, Roy."

"I see." He put down his coffee and leaned forward, hands laced together. "You…blame me for this situation? Should I have told Gracia after her husband's death that I had loved him—loved him still—and that I regretted that walking into her house and seeing his pictures—his child—only made the pain worse for me and harder to hide?"

Edward walked slowly around to Roy's side of the desk, shoved a stack of unread papers out of the way and sat down wearily. "Nobody's to blame, Roy. Be easier if there was." He reached over, unclenched the Fuhrer's hands and massaged them, an unconscious gesture of affection. "Can't blame him for not telling. Everybody's trying hard not to hurt everybody. Everything ends up fucked up anyway. Think she understands why you don't come around now."

"And hates me."

'Could be." Ed stole a sip of Roy's coffee, making a face at the amount of sugar the man ruined his coffee and tea with. "Hope not."

"Me too. I have enemies enough to go around."

"She's not your enemy. Never was. Just," Ed shook his head, "your rival" He gave Roy a playful swat on the top of his head. "In your mind, anyway. And Hughes is gone, so there's nothing left to fight over, is there?"

Roy rolled his chair over and wrapped his arms around Ed's hips. "I can't force myself to…I don't—"

"—you don't like her. And that's okay. Just…don't hold it against her, okay?"

"I'll try."

"Can't ask more than that." The hand that had swatted him now caressed the dark head that rested on his thigh. 'Twenty seconds is up and you still have your shoes on."

To Ed's surprise, Roy slid back, captured Ed's left leg and unlaced his shoe, tossing it aside. He tugged the sock off the metal prosthetic and kissed the steel toes as affectionately as he would have kissed flesh. The fact that Roy didn't flinch from the scars and the metal and wires and the odors of steel and machine oil always got to Ed. Winry—well, she's a gear head. That kind of shit always turned her on. Roy's never had a maimed lover before, Ed reasoned. Roy never balked at Ed's automail and caressed it just as lovingly as the leg that could feel his touch. "You're gonna fuck me on the desk?"

Roy leaned in close and nipped an earlobe. "Remember the night in Aerugo when you were humping my leg in the bushes and I asked you what you wanted?"

The memory made Ed flush from head to toe and all points in between." Yeah…."

Warm breath in his ear made goose bumps spring out on Ed's neck. "What did you tell me you wanted?" A gloved hand slid down his chest and came to rest over something growing hot and heavy, something that was demanding some attention.

Ed swallowed hard."…ngggh!…tongue…..uhhhshiiit…"

A low, wicked chuckle in his ear made him squirm. "Don't believe I heard you, Edward."

'I said….aahhaahhhh!….I…want…your…goddamn…TONGUE!"

The phone rang at Hawkeye's desk. "Sir?"

The voice on the other end of the horn was rather breathless. "Code Foxtrot Echo Echo. Roger that?"

Foxtrot Echo Echo. Short for Fucking Edward Elric. "Yes, Sir."

Her perfectly composed face began to pinken and sweat began to bead up between her breasts. Havoc glanced at the lovely flush creeping across her cheeks. "Lemme guess."

"Mmmn.'

"When do you get off duty for the night?"

"Midnight." She opened a rifle assembly manual and gave it her full attention.

It was upside down. Havoc grinned. "Good. After your watch I'll…relieve you, Colonel. Code Foxtrot Romeo Hotel?"

"Roger that, Major. Carry on."

"See you at the rendezvous point. I'll provide a few liters of grain based hydration and some Class-A carbohydrate and protein replacement rations—hold the mayo. And the onions."

"Very good, Major. Dismissed!"

One of the best things about loving someone in the open is knowing I can leave marks on what's mine. The sensitive spot where the thigh meets the hip—that was a favorite and broad strokes of the tongue tended to produce the most delicious groans, especially if every few strokes strayed to the side to where his sac joined his body. Oh, and that smooth cusp of flesh right under the hairless scrotum…perfect to suck on, and it always provoked Ed to hook his hands under his knees and offer more and more enticing flesh for Roy to feast on. 'Hold that pose," Roy told him with a smug little smirk. The alchemist clapped his hands and suddenly a leather throw pillow became a pair of butter-soft leather restraints. Another clap and support hooks sprouted from the top of His Excellency's desk.

Ed looked genuinely shocked. 'Have you been trading notes with my brother again?"

Roy laughed and kissed Ed's belly as he adjusted the ties. "Less strain on you if you don't have to hold your legs yourself. All you have to do is…mmmm…enjoy…."

And he did. 'Ohhh….ffffuckggggGAWDyeah…suck 'em…suck on 'em….leave the gloves on, goddamn it…oh yeaaaahhhhhh…."

It was hard when he was squirming all over the desk like that but Roy managed to get both of the oh so sensitive balls inside his mouth at the same time, sucking gently while a rough, gloved finger delicately teased the inviting opening that made Ed slam his head back on the desk and curse. The flushed, swollen length above him quivered and pulsed with Ed's accelerating heartbeat.

And with Edward tied up and raving, Roy had him right where he wanted him…

"Don't move."

'Huh? OH MY FUCKIN' GOD…shiiiiiit!"

Ed would be gone in less than 48 hours and every moment Roy could hold his man had to count. Normally he'd have swallowed down every thick, salty drop but Roy didn't want to waste it.

Thighs strapped wide, wrists now bound to the desktop, Ed struggled and panted with frustration to get at his lover, who was slowly stripping off his uniform and tossing it aside. "You got what you wanted," he purred, leaning in for a kiss. "Now it's my turn. Equivalent exchange, you know?"

"Equivalent echange my ass!"

"I'll 'equvalent exchange' your ass tomorrow night—but right now…as I said…it's my turn."

Roy climbed up onto the desk, straddling Edward's hips. He held out a small dish of unwrapped butter pats from the kitchenette. "Would you do the honors—oh…but I see you're all tied up, aren't you?"

"Bastard! Quit teasing me!"

"Well then…I guess you'll just have to watch, won't you?" Butter slicked fingers disappeared and Roy shuddered and hissed and whimpered, rocking back against his own hand, forcing Edward to watch. "Feels sooooo good…ohhh….right there….god, yes…."

Edward would have gnawed through the restraints if he could have reached them with his teeth. "Fuckin' tease!"

Roy positioned himself right over the dripping, neglected manhood. "You wanted my tongue? Well…I wanted this!" He sank down to the hilt and squeezed.

Edward shrieked. Outside in the hall, Riza Hawkeye reached for the ear safety plugs she used on the rifle range. They wouldn't block out the full range of decibles—Ed's, at least—but it would help.

The slow, deliberate rotation of Roy's lean hips had Ed babbling nonsensical words he generally kept to himself—words about loving, wanting…needing…the man who was driving himself downdowndown…impaling himself, sweat dripping down his chest, gasping hard and fisting his own hot flesh. "Please….hurry…"

A handclap and the bond fell loose and Ed yanked Roy down hard, chest to chest, wrapping his legs around the man who rode him mercilessly.

Love you. Need you…take me…harder…oh god…please…

"Edward…"

"!"

He lay on his lover's supine body, drenched inside and out, head cradled on a sweaty chest. He was sore and sticky and felt better than he had since he'd returned from Aerugo.

Better than he had since Maes died.

A hand gently stroked his back. "Hey."

"What?"

"Do me a favor while I'm gone, will you?"

"Anything."

"Tell me a story."

Roy lifted his head. "Huh?"

Ed was flushed and smiling up at him. "I want you to write to me and tell me a story. Tell me," his hand traced the curve of Roy's cheek, "about Maes."

Roy was incredulous. Speechless. His mouth moved but he couldn't manage to force a sound out.

Ed nodded and continued. "Tell me everything you've never told a soul before. Write to me and then I'll read it…and then if you want I'll burn the letters and throw the ashes in the river…and you'll have it out of your system and you can let it go. Because," he lowered his voice to an intense whisper, "it's time for us now. Okay?"

"Okay."

…TO BE CONTINUED…..