Title: Flint and Ashes
Author: Spirix

Genre: Hot War fic
Rating: M for sMut
Pairing: EdRoy RoyEd
Summary: Roy is a young state alchemist in a new war to "unite" Amestris under one banner. But is that what's actually happening, and who is the newest alchemist?

WARNING: MORE BACON!!

Disclaimer: I hate this part; it just reminds me of my lack of owning such a great story.

Absurd and Ineffective

Edward's body ached as he sat up abruptly. The skin on his back pulled and hissed in protest as if too tight for his body. He squinted in pain and checked his hands. Good, the gloves were still in place. He knew he must be in the post-op tent because all medical staff was informed of his gloves and that they may never be removed by anyone other than himself for alchemic purposes.

He smiled mirthlessly at how putting 'alchemic purposes' on any document made whatever on it law. No one questioned the work of alchemists, nor dug deep into the reasons for their bizarre habits unless they were alchemists themselves.

The gloves made him feel more comfortable and safe, despite the horrid smell of burning flesh. He turned his head slowly to not aggravate the burns on his lower neck to views his fellow injured personnel. Edward counted himself lucky he had nothing more than a burn on his back with the same damage level as a severe sun burn when he saw the fate that awaited the handful others. They were charred beneath their bandages.

He wondered vaguely at the time. His pocket watch was missing along with his pants. He shifted slightly, testing his range of motion and was delighted to find the burn only went from his neck to his lower back. That was a large expanse of skin, but one he could avoid moving if he just walked with straight posture.

"Here, you're going to want this."

A tub of white cream was placed on his knee by a slender hand but well muscled hand. Edward followed the bare arm up to a tank top clad shoulder, then further up into a calm smooth face. Kimblee smiled without teeth, placing a chair backwards in front of him to sit on.

"What the fuck do you want?" Edward demanded, barely keeping the snarl from his voice. He didn't forget so easily who put him in this chemical and flesh smelling place.

Kimblee sighed, "I felt bad about what happened and came to check on you. That," he gestured to the cream tub, "is the best burn cream money can buy. I keep enough to slather a elephant in my kit and thought I would give you a jar in peace. I really didn't expect anyone to be around while I was practising."

Edward eyed the tub with suspicion. He knew enough about Kimblee to fill a small pamphlet so he wasn't quick to trust.

"What about those men?" Ed flicked his eyes to the other beds behind Kimblee. "They are a little too 'well done' to be an accident."

Kimblee actually looked sheepish as he replied, "They thought I was frying you on purpose and tried to knock me out, but I was in the middle of a transmutation when they interrupted me. The reaction was severed from my control and they became the price paid, idiots. The official story was that a generator blew because it was too close to the 'alchemic range' but I wouldn't practise anywhere close to one of those. I'm not an idiot."

Ed's suspicions of the man stayed in place but they were no longer strong enough to prevent him from using the cream. He brought his hands together in front of him to screw off the cap but the skin on his shoulder blades pulled painfully.

Kimblee nimbly took the jar away and opened it. He pointed for Ed to lie down saying, "Don't tell a soul I did this for you. Got it shrimp?"

Not really caring about anything other than the hot tight skin that was now throbbing, Edward lay on his stomach. He was only his in boxers so Kimblee had unobstructed access to his back and neck. His previous assumption of Kimblee having nimble hands was evidently true with each soothing circle the man massaged into his back. It was strange that the same man who threw a bomb at him was now taking care of him; doing this for Edward that he could not do himself.

What was even stranger was the small part of him that wished it was another man that was good with his hands. This man was fonder of snapping than clapping. Edward's eyes opened wide in shock, he wasn't even aware that he had closed them.

Dammit, he was thinking of Mustang again. That man had the uncanny ability to sneak into Edward's mind and plague him with mixed emotions like no one Edward had ever encountered. From the way his short black hair glinted in the hot desert sun to how he always had one hand in his pocket; Edward had subconsciously memorized the man.

"You stiffened," Kimblee observed as he sat back down. Edward watched him replace the lid then place it on the small table.

There was a long silence before Edward attempted to get up again. This time his actions were unhindered. He swung his legs over the side of the bed to face his companion. Not one to without credit where it was due, Edward thanked Kimblee curtly.

An idea struck him and Edward asked, "Did the cat survive?"

Kimblee smirked as if expecting it, replying, "I found out before I came. A private not much younger than you is looking after the thing. I think his name is Furry or something. Ironic huh? His tent is in the non-commissioned part of the camp so you're on your own to find him."

Edward couldn't hold back a smirk at Kimblee's discomfort. He squirmed as if being among the non-commissioned soldiers were equivalent to having spiders crawling all over him. Kimblee was such an oddity that Edward did not know whether to make head or tails of him. All would reveal itself in time so Edward allowed his amusement to show when Kimblee quivered.

"What's that smile about?" He asked Edward.

Edward crossed his arms, stating, "Am I not allowed to smile when some fool is suffering from an attack of invisible insects or some weird ass whatever the hell 'that' just was?"

"I guess you can," Kimblee stated in a matter-o-fact tone, "but I didn't think you were capable, not with that stick so far up your ass."

Edward's mood turned sour. He turned away with a huff and started to growl when he heard Kimblee's laughter.

"Can you blame me blondie? You've been all work and no play since you got here. You only leave that forsaken research tent for food and sleep. You are obviously some tight assed prude or just plain boring."

"I am not!" Ed countered and turned his top half to face Kimblee.

Kimblee's grin grew wide, his eyes turned icy and he parried with, "prove it."

Without thinking, Edward pulled close by his shirt and roughly kissed him.

"Ed, can I talk to you for a moment?" Russell fixed his sparring outfit and sank onto the training mat.

Ed flopped down next to him and fought to catch his breath. They had stayed behind long after the rest of the dojo's students had left for the day. Edward was eager to master his airborne attacks and Russell was the only one who would spar with him.

"Did you mean it," Russell pressed after a long moment of silence.

Ed rolled on his side and did a push up to get his knees under him. He stood up slowly, keeping his back from his friend. "Don't be stupid. I always mean what I do. Do you really think I would do something like that on a whim? Fuck, whatever, just forget it ever happened."

Ed walked towards the doorway, his chin length hair sticking to his face with perspiration. He was almost to the door when Russell called after him in an indifferent voice.

"Women are boring. They are boring and greedy; always wanting more than a man can give." He stopped as if to consider something then continued. "I'm your friend but that doesn't mean I want you in a physical sense. If you want that, I suggest you find yourself a girl mate. Don't worry though; I won't hate you for wanting me. I am gorgeous after all."

The last part was hurried but disgustingly smug. Edward clenched his fists. If he attacked Russell in anger, Ling-sensei would send him back to Amestris, his training incomplete. This situation had to be handled with words else it cost Edward the skills he needed to master for the war to come. Edward wanted desperately to prove his military worth to his adopted father and needed this edge, this advantage and was not about to let one lapse in judgment destroy it.

It was a mistake to confess his strong attraction to Russell, a fellow student of fighting and a friend. He had been lulled in a false sense of confidence after Russell's girlfriend broke up with him distastefully and Edward had used the opportunity to express his crush on the younger teen. Russell had reacted harshly, screaming: 'What's wrong with you Ed? Don't touch me!'

Other students had heard Russell's loud voice and saw Edward, suspiciously straddling Russell's legs with a hand on his cheek. It had all crashed and burned from there. The respect Edward had earned among his peers for his technique and work ethic was suddenly replaced with wariness and repugnance.

Over a week of being treated absurdly like some leper or victim of the plague, Edward was resigned that if he could find no one to spar with, he could go no further in his training. The other boys were not breaking his spirit, but if he couldn't learn in Ling's dojo, he would have to find another one.

While packing his things, Russell had protested, admittedly blaming himself for Edward's predicament. They had finally come to a compromise that Russell would be his sparring partner so that Edward wouldn't have to leave.

Now he was mocking Edward's feelings. It was hard enough to admit them to himself, even harder to be honest with his friend but Edward was enraged that he was now the subject of such ill taste jokes.

Edward faced Russell with a dangerous air and thought strongly of cleaning the floor with that smirking face.

Russell ignored his lethal stare and continued, "I'll make a deal with you Ed. Prove to me that you really want me and I'll play along."

His tone had a strange quality to it that Edward didn't like but his brain was functioning properly. He took a step forward, "What do you mean: play along?"

Russell stood up closed the distance between them easily. He grabbed the front of Edward's shirt and pulled him off the floor with his superior height. Edward trusted him enough to not be wary of a beating but he was so confused as to Russell's motives that he almost kicked the younger teen in the shin to escape.

"Cool it Ed, I'm only giving you what you want. Now the question is; can you return the favour?" The cool slippery words glided over his skin. They felt wrong but Edward just brushed it off as to be expected. Wanting the kinds of things he wanted from Russell was wrong after all. Nothing would ever feel right again.

His body was trembling with anticipation, toes still barely touching the floor; he looked deeply into those blue eyes. They were like hard ice.

"Prove how much you want me to fuck you Ed. Prove it!"

The dry lips that met his were eager and quickly pressed back. Edward wondered why for a moment that Russell's lips would be so chapped when the smell of the burned flesh and ointment hit him like a wall. He shoved Kimblee away in absolute horror, effectively landing him onto the floor and pulling all the skin on his back.

He hissed and shuffled to the head of his coat. His voice was hoarse as he spat, "Leave, right fucking now."

Kimblee wasn't even paying attention. He sat in his abrupt heap with that smirk on his face.

"I knew it," he stated smugly. "You are that kid I heard about."

Edward's eyes grew wide, his lack of a poker face very evident. "What are you talking about?"

Kimblee stood up and smacked the sand off of his pants. "Well, there is this rumour going around that an Amestrian alchemist over the border was caught. No one knows who it was, nor do I think anyone cares but just imagine what your father would think if he found out about you little adventures, both there and here."

He knew!

Edward's mind reeled and chaos erupted in his thought process. He couldn't deny it for his pride refused to let him. He was not ashamed of his choices, he just wished for them to remain secrets.

Deep blue eyes came to mind, but they were not Russell's like he had expected. The flame alchemist's image wrapped around his thoughts and calmed him. Edward just sat stupidly, staring at Kimblee and wondering why he felt so calm all of a sudden.

Edward's voice returned to him, "So what do you want?"

Kimblee shrugged. "I'd normally say you but I can see you've already got someone irreplaceable. Contrary to majority opinion, I'm not so much of an ass as to stick myself between people... wait that's a lie. There was that time with those twins... Anyways, I don't want anything from you. I just want you to know that I know."

He paused, putting his hands in his pockets. Edward, still strangely calm, waited for the axe to fall, for the 'but' that would end his lifelong secret identity and yet it never came.

"Elric," Kimblee said seriously, "there is a reason I did this. I'm not just fucking with your head. I wanted you to see just how easy it was for your whole life to end. No one around here knows why you are here or what part you'll play in the war to come but you, the higher ups and me. Special Op's will be recruiting me soon and you know they will come for you too. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't let what little good you have in your life slip away when you know you may never have anything even remotely similar ever again." He walked away, toward the exit but turned back; reminding Ed much of his pain addled memory. "I know what it's like so I'm telling you; don't let him go, ever."

Edward didn't see hide or hair of Kimblee for the next couple of weeks, which suited him fine. The man was unnerving on levels Edward couldn't even comprehend. The less he saw of Kimblee, the happier he would be.

What he had said in that field hospital was still ringing in Edward's mind. Major Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist and a source of sanity for Edward every time he brought forth that calming image. The long lines of his blue uniform flowed like water with each flap of his greatcoat. Edward sat on one of the many rocks littered around the camp, deep in thought.

What exactly did this man mean to him?

Edward swore after Russell he would never love blindly again. It had been a horrible experience of being used and not being able to say no. Edward knew he was strong willed and not easily taken advantage of but he needed what Russell was dangling in front of him and not amount of self respect would prevent him from taking the scraps offered. Edward was starving then and now he found himself starving again.

Not seeing the older alchemist at all in the past few weeks had given Edward time to figure out just what he wanted. It was blatantly obviously he had feelings for him but it felt different than before. There was no wrong and taboo aura around his dreams and memories, just a steadfast sense of confusion and affection.

But Edward could not let that lull him into a false sense of security. Was that why he was out on the rock waiting, like every other day?

"No, I'm not waiting for him... I'm just enjoying the fucking fresh air!" Ed yelled at no one and crossed his arms.

He knew he was waiting for Mustang to practice his alchemy but that didn't mean it was his only reason for being out. No, it was just a perk that went along with his afternoon stroll... right?

Soon enough the man in question came out and began his routine of setting up his experiments and marking the boundaries. Edward had only found him by accident a few days ago but he could already see the pattern of his movements. It was like a dance and Edward groaned at his own school girl imagery. Fucking hell, he had a crush and hated it.

"So, you finally found him."

Edward didn't even turn to look at Kimblee. The man's presence wasn't even worth acknowledging so Edward didn't.

Kimblee seemed to not notice, or perhaps he just didn't care. He just continued to stand behind Edward doing whatever it was that clap-happy alchemists do.

A pleasant scent wove it's way to Edward's nose that made him turn in wonder. Was that bacon?

"Yes it is," Kimblee told him, seeing the mental question written all over Edward's face.

He offered the bag to Edward with a shrug and the blond eagerly drove his hand into the opening.

While Edward chewed with great quantities of passion and vigour, Kimblee's eyes drifted to the small flares erupting below.

"He still ignoring you,' Kimblee asked.

Edward spoke around his food, "its better this way."

"Why?"

Edward merely shrugged and watched another flare burst.

Kimblee rustled the bag and added conversationally, "I figured you'd eat the whole bag."

"I don't want any more. That doesn't fucking mean anything so don't read into it. When a man has had enough bacon, he's had enough fucking bacon!"

Edward grimaced at his overreaction. He really needed to get some things straightened out but he didn't know how short of going on a small killing spree.

"Pay attention squirt," was all the warning Edward got before Kimblee walked straight over to Mustang's work area.

Edward nearly leaped after him to make him stop but didn't want to reveal his location. The small cliff edge in combination with the boulder shape made it a perfect spot to hide.

Edward watched in horrific fascination as Kimblee offered the bacon and his eyebrows rose at the mention of special ops. Edward knew it was only a matter of time before they came for him but he wondered what was taking so long.

The original plan was that once he got back from Xing he would be placed directly into their corps but this sandbox detour confused him. Just what were the higher ups planning? It made him uneasy when things deviated from the track.

Edward paid closer attention when Mustang's mood completely changed into an angry stance at the mention of Kimblee liking Edward's body. Edward growled in the back of his throat for a moment but was more interested in Mustang.

It was almost as if he was being protective of Edward…

Kimblee took his leave but Edward remained to ponder what had just happened. No one had ever stood up for him like that.

"I'm going to talk with him," Edward said decisively and walked towards the object of his confusing affections.

END

Oh Dear GOD!

I posted something substantial! I have actually been writing this chapter since I left you all. Wow, and it's not even that big. I just have no time for anything. But enough about that, I've decided that if while at work you say, "Someone shoot me," and you see 3 C-7s raised, you are in the wrong line of work. I'm getting used to them but the damn things are hard to toss and flip. I love how we get yelled at for running with scissors but not for tossing automatic weapons. Though to be honest, if it drops on the ground... well I'm too scared to even want to find out what happens to use if it does.

Anyways, yes I know that cat isn't in this chapter. It's in the next and safe. I hinted who may have him. Guess away.

-rix the frigateer
(I live in The Stone Frigate... so I'm a frigateer.)