OUR LIVES, CHAPTER 16: FIVE MINUTES AFTER MIDNIGHT
By The Binary Alchemist 2012
Roy Mustang and Edward Elric had left the world behind them, a world of recent losses and grief, of politics and gamesmanship. Outside the warm cedar wood doors it was a deadly game. The New Prosperity Era that followed the Promised Day was coming to a close. Amestrians, comfy and secure and clueless, had grown complacent in close to two decades of relative peace and plenty. A new face came to challenge the man who had changed the world. Even if Roy Mustang had sought out the desert sages or the wise men of Xing they would have told him not to push the river, but to care for his country and let events unfold as fate decrees.
Roy slipped out of his uniform and laid the world and its worries aside. The cool cotton of the yukata felt good against his skin. His body was humming with need, and it pleased him that after half a century desire tasted as sweet to him as it had in his cadet days. He had spent the nights of Edward's absence as he had when his lover had flown to the Eastern Kingdoms and Xing, writhing in the dark, impaling himself upon a cold rubber phallus while plunging into the newest 'Gate of Paradise' that had needed replacing year after year. Each year Mr. Spenser had come up with a new invention, a new toy to console the separated lovers, although Edward balked at the pink rubber buttocks that were large enough to be mounted. Roy was not so particular and brought the item out and rode it ferociously until it split and tore. But as often as he might pour himself into a fist or toy, it was always with full knowledge that nothing—nothing—could rival the heat of his mate, the taste of his sweat and seed, the fingers that bruised as they clenched desperately, the automail toes that scrapped against his bare buttocks, or the mouth that greedily bit and sucked and licked and kissed and growled out such profane endearments.
It was five minutes before midnight and Edward was home. Edward was home and Edward was his and the world could bloody well turn without Roy Mustang tonight….
###
Five minutes after midnight they were closing up the watering holes on the north side of Central. Chris Mustang stepped outside into the street for a smoke and to keep an eye on a slightly tipsy officer whom she had called a cab for. The officer had been taken aback by such forwardness, standing smartly erect and calmly assuring Chris that she was fine and her driving completely unimpaired. "Oh yeah? When was the last time you got hammered?" the old woman shot back, reasonably certain that the honest answer would have been 'never'. "Make an old lady happy. Take the cab. It's on me. Last thing I want to do is have to explain to my boy that I let a senior officer get behind the wheel after five shots and white wine chaser-and listen, doll—your head ain't gonna thank you for mixing wine and scotch."
She paid the cabby double the fare and tip—in part to insure he kept his trap shut, but also to cover any cleaning bill should Colonel Hawkeye vomit all over his back seat. "Get some rest," she ordered the slightly weaving woman as she guided her into the cab. As they drove off, she shook her head and flicked ashes over the thin dusting of fresh snow that was crusting on the curbside. "That Havoc oughta have his head examined," she muttered aloud to no one in particular.
She was about to head back in to count the night's receipts when a bright, splashy poster caught her eye in the window of a pub across the street. It bore the clean cut image of a certain journalist familiar to anyone with a radio in Amestris and the words "SAMUELSON-A Better Man—For A Better Amestris" blazing above his head . Underneath the portrait (which artfully concealed a slightly receding hairline) was the added comment "TIME FOR A CHANGE TO GOVERNMENT BY THE PEOPLE" and in slightly smaller typeface "paid for by the committee to elect Donal Samuelson President". The bartender, sweeping out cigarette butts, stood in the open door, noticed Chris Mustang studying the poster. He had known her for years and felt a little awkward but he didn't feel the need to apologize for his personal politics. He nodded a greeting at the old woman. She cocked her eyebrow at him and flicked her ashes at his shoes.
"May the best man win," she told him with a sly smile that reminded him that she knew where all the bodies were buried among the downtown club owners. The pub owner ducked hurriedly back in and closed the door behind him, locking it tight against the rising chill.
###
Five minutes after midnight, the late-night news program on Radio Capital mentioned the formation of the Amestrian Populist Party, a small but outspoken group of reformists who advocated separation of the military and the government. "At a Populist rally in South City there was a surprising show of support for newly-declared presidential hopeful Donal Samuelson, who will be setting out on the campaign trail over the Solstice holiday to meet with his supporters. When asked if President Mustang shows any concern about the grassroots movement to oppose his military-backed administration, Presidential Spokesman Heymans Breda stated that' the President believes that debate from different candidates is a sign of a healthy democracy' and added that 'if Mr. Samuelson stands as an endorsed political opponent, President Mustang looks forward to meeting with him on the campaign trail."
Frank Archer snapped his radio off and sucked down a mouthful of cold gin. In three days—just three days—he'd seen Samuelson's posters begin to crop up in shop windows all over town. "Bet that just burns Roy's lily-white ass," he chuckled aloud. "Now let's see if you've got the stones to carry through with it, Sammy-boy…."
###
Five minutes after midnight, Gladys Turlough finished her cocktail and glanced at her diamond wristwatch—a lovely item hand crafted in Xenotime. One hand trailed over a sumptuous breast, pausing to tweak a nipple that had, until very recently, had Jean Havoc's mouth glued to it several times a week and in some wonderfully adventurous locations. Doing in the front seat of the Presidential car had been shivery fun—hopefully her Country Boy had located the pink silk panties she had lost under the seat. He could last forever—she could suck on that thing and it would get rock hard over and over again. Mmmmm….just thinking about his tongue down there made her so hot. "Five minutes after midnight," she sighed. "Maybe he'll come by after work." Her hand now crept under her satin nightgown. She was already wet for him. She debated a moment before slipping a manicured finger in. "Well…it's not like I'm going to wear out," she sighed, picturing Havoc's head between her thighs, his cute little goatee wet with her juices and his clever tongue sliding in just…everywhere. "I'm just revving the engines for him…."
###
Five minutes after midnight Sebastian moved noiselessly down the second floor corridor like a great cat, listening carefully. Colonel Hawkeye was off duty and offsite, leaving it to him to keep the household watch. That was fine with Sebastian. He preferred it that way. Blazing guns and stomping boots were never his style—but then there was a distinct difference between a military guard and a Black Ops assassin. "Sebastian's like a dog fart—silent but deadly," Master Maes had once observed when he was twelve and someone had attempted to shoot his stepfather at the Veteran's Memorial wreath ceremony. Sebastian slipped in and out of he crowd like a phantom and the attacker had no more than drawn his pistol when a garrote of wire, fine as a hair, looped around the man's throat and a very delicate, determined pressure and a soft whisper of warning persuaded the attacker to drop to the ground and surrender without a fight.
Mrs. Hughes had settled in for the night in her accustomed guest room He had arranged for a warmed robe and plush slippers at her bedside and lots of fluffy towels for her morning shower. He made a mental note to ask Chef Ramsay to prepare a fruit plate and black coffee for her breakfast.
A few doors down there was soft conversation in Miss Nina's room. Likely she and Miss Elycia would sit up and talk much of the night—however he had warned Chef Ramsay to be prepared in the event of a midnight raid on the pantry. How both young ladies managed to gorge on sweets and maintain their trim figures was a mystery, to be sure.
He frowned as he passed Master Maes' room, where he had seen Collins slip inside an hour before. He frowned. Friendship was all very well, but once Collins became his apprentice a line needed to be drawn—and redrawn—between Family and Staff. The undue familiarity was unseemly and inappropriate, and he regretted that Master Maes did not seem to understand he was putting his friend's career chances in jeopardy, particularly with the intimate nature of their friendship. He sighed and shook his head. It was, indeed, a good thing that Collins would be shipped off to Mrs. Bradley's estate in less than a fortnight—sooner, if Sebastian could manage it.
As he came to the end of the second floor corridors he paused. Behind the door was the newly redesigned cedar wood bath that the young master and mistress had created as a gift to His Excellency. Of course, Sebastian had insisted on inspecting it carefully for any potential security risks or safety hazards. All in all, it was nicely done. Earlier, Sebastian and Collins had lit the candles in the iron lanterns, heated the water and turned on the small indoor fountain that trickled musically over small pebbles in a large stone basin Miss Nina had arranged. Simple cotton robes called yukata had been laid out for His Excellency and the Professor, along with plenty of clean towels and a lacquered tray bearing an assortment of water-resistant lubricants procured from Spenser's Emporium that might be required during the course of the evening.
Sebastian listened. He nodded in approval at what he heard. "Very good, Your Excellency," he told the door. "Carry on, Sir."
And behind the locked doors, carry on they did….
###
"Not bad for an old guy." Edward grinned at the front of Roy's yukata—or rather at the impertinent and impatient manhood that was tenting out the front to a very impressive degree. "I could hang my robe on that."
"Only if you're in it. Come here." Laughing, Ed allowed himself to be yanked into the older man's embrace, running appreciative hands over his lover's chest. Roy caught him by the hips and pulled Ed closer, his mouth finding that sensitive spot right below Ed's ear. "Don't care if I'm a hundred. You ever find a day when you can't get me hard without laying a hand on me, you'd better have Knox toe-tag me and stash me in a body bag."
Roy's fingers tugged carefully at the elastic that bound the younger man's lengthy ponytail up and out of his way. He carded the lengthy mass carefully with his fingers, admiring the way it spilled over the crimson yukata, catching the low flickering light of a dozen candles in low iron lanterns. His cock twitched in appreciation. This was something dangerously erotic about his lover that he could never quite fathom, especially since Ed could effortlessly flip a mental switch and become utterly disinterested in sex or romance when focusing on a problem or working on a project. There was nothing remotely feminine about Edward Elric, for all his sharp, elegant features and remarkable topaz eyes. No, Ed had always been and would always be a tough little bastard, and while any woman would envy a waist-length mane like Ed's, it did not feminize him in the slightest. Rather, it gave him a wildness that Roy found intensely erotic, like some splendid animal that could never quite be captured or tamed. The fact that Ed was so aggressive in bed only added to the illusion, as did the feral, wolf-like eyes he had inherited from his Xerxian father.
A splendid animal…my splendid animal….Roy bit down on the smooth neck and was gratified by the low, throaty assent, even more by the hardness that chaffed against his own. "Come on. Let's get wet."
Five minutes after midnight Roy shrugged off the upper half of his deep blue robe as they stood on the edge of the sunken wooden tub. The water was roughly neck deep and although It had steps and a hand rail but when seated on the floor it was easier to simply swing ones feed around, step down onto the bench seat and ease into the steamy water. Ed admired the design, especially the features that were unique to this bath compared to the ones he'd soaked in while visiting Nihon. There were clever, adjustable foot and leg rests of cedar and movable rods of bamboo that could be positioned across the bath so that Ed could support his leg and even float on his back without the weight of his leg dragging him down. "I don't know whether my son is a genius or a pervert," he exclaimed, " but this is brilliant." He tested the stability of the bamboo rods and found them stable and safe. "What exactly does he think we're gonna do in this thing?"
"Nothing his uncle hasn't done somewhere else—and with more people."
"Yeah, I don't know where this damn deviant streak comes from ."
"Says the man," Roy teased, "who keeps—what did that palace maid in Aerugo call them—'feeelthy peeectures!'—in his travel kit and gets rock hard whenever someone at dinner says 'pass the butter'. Am I right?"
The memory of having a housekeeper at the royal palace discover Ed's Owner's Manual when he had mistakenly left it unlocked in the sheets of the guest room was embarrassing even now and Ed's cheeks burned. "Asshole. You have to keep bringing that up, don't you?"
A scarred hand yanked off the sash of Ed's robe. "I like 'bringing things up'. Don't you?" His own yukata half open, he began lightly rubbing his bare chest against Edward's, so their hardened nipples lightly grazed against each other. Roy's chest had always been so sensitive. A flicker of tongue tip or fingers could make his ivory skin flush with arousal but it was this brushing of skin against skin that made him crazy. Ed leaned into the caress and his hand snaked down between them so that the hard ridge of his sex intruded inside Roy's robe to greet the alchemist's shaft. "Mmmmm….entering without knocking? That's rude, Ed."
White teeth closed on a pale shoulder. "You couldn't keep me out if you tried." He sucked in his breath sharply as Roy's fist closed over them both and squeezed hard.
"Already wet and we're not even under water…mmmm…I've seen candles that didn't drip as much as you do." A slicked finger pressed into his slit and Ed's knees, flesh and metal, began to buckle.
"Quit bitching. You love it. Now, are we gonna fuck or not?" Ed growled. "If the kids hadn't been with us I'd have been all over you in the car going home. You'd have had to keep up the pose, acting all cool and presidential and military while you were creaming your shorts in the back seat with my finger up your ass." His chuckle was low and evil and made the hair stand up on the back of Roy's neck. "That would be entertaining as hell, making you squirm and you not being able to do a damn thing about it. Maybe I'll hide under your desk and suck you off during a cabinet meeting….mmmmm….sound like fun?"
"You keep taking like that," Roy warned as they slid into the water, " and you won't be able to sit down for a week." Sodden robes were peeled off and flung aside and Roy positioned himself on a slightly inclined bench seat under the water. His feet told him the tub had a slope which would be safer with Ed using it. Grabbing one of the bamboo poles from the far side of the tub Roy carefully maneuvered it into a set of wooden slots built into the tub sides, silently thanking Maes for his perverse inventiveness. The pole now stretched across the sides of the tub but about waist deep, perfect for what Roy had in mind.
Seated on the bench, Roy persuaded Ed to stretch out on his chest, both heels hooked over the bamboo pole, legs spread. "Now…that's it…relax…close your eyes and just let go. I've got you. I won't let you sink." Ed looked dubious but the experiment worked. Roy's body supported his upper back and shoulders and it was the first time he'd been essentially weightless in water while wearing automail. Beneath him, Roy was whispering into his ear, reminding him that he was safe from drowning, that it was all right to let the tension flow out of his muscles. Roy adjusted Ed's position and then his hands began to softly stroke the taut, rippled abs, thumbs sweeping up now and again to tease the rosy nipples. "Breathe." Ed needed to be reminded because Roy was taking his breath away and sweet sparks were coursing through him like some erotic alchemy.
The callused hands coursed their way down…down…down….toying now with the fine blond curls that moved with the water's wake, tracing the crease where his thighs joined and then down to cradle the balls that were tight in their sac in spite of the warmth of the water. Roy rubbed them, rolled them artfully between his fingers as his tongue traced the inner shell of his lover's ear. "Breathe deeper…yes…go into it…feels different, doesn't it. Feels deep…feels good?"
"Y-yeah…yeah…wow…" The urge to tense up his body and strain towards release was building but each time he shuddered and jerked Roy softly reminded him to breathe deeper. "What…what…is…this? What—is this some kind of alchemy?"
"Mmmmm….not exactly. The Rishi sages of Ishbal may have gotten it from Xerxes….it's called maithuna, the Way of the Deep River. The ancients believed it was the most intense orgasm at all, but you have to relax completely and not tense up. Just keep breathing…focus on nothing but the sound of my voice and how good this feels…"
When the hands twined around his cock Ed's eyes began to roll back in his head but he kept breathing deeply as wave after wave of pleasure seemed to ripple through his nerve endings. He was so deeply focused he never even felt Roy slip out from under him, gently opening Ed's arms so that he could float easily. Moving around he ducked underwater, coming up between the spread thighs and one hand moved down to open him wide enough for the entry of a tongue that kept pace with the other hand that stroked his member. There was a soft, stuttering sound of pleasure as the yielded to the pleasures of being sucked at and licked, his balls being held inside a silken mouth, a tongue tip rooting into his slit to catch the salty drops that were milky on his belly and in the water. "Ah! Ahhhhhh….yessssssss"
Ed was close and it was too risky to hope that he could maintain his buoyancy in the throes of ecstasy. Roy ducked under, slipped under Edward's back and positioned his man just so. He had to stretch and arch and it wasn't altogether comfortable for Roy but he managed to ease just the crown of his cock inside Edward's body. Ed's eyes began to roll beneath his closed lids and his lips began to tremble. "I've got you safe." Roy's voice was low and hypnotic. "I'm rooted inside you." He flexed his muscles and the thick cockhead twitched inside. "Keep breathing…deeper and deeper…there is no way you'll sink under…I've got you safe…I'm in you now….feel me…you're anchored to me…we're joined, body to body….me to you. I'll never let you fall…trust me…"
When the sensation hit him, full force, the pulsing in his groin and bursting of his cock was almost irrelevant. He could fee it in his goddamn fingertips…deep in his chest where his heart hammered wildly, deep in his brain which sparked and made his vision go white. It felt like an alchemical reaction was washing over his skin and it tingled and burned and it felt like everything from his toes to his soul was fountaining out of his cock and he shook all over, bound only by the cockhead he clenched from inside and the strong arm and chest that bore him up.
He was hypersensitive, inside and out. "What..the…fuck…what did you…what did you do…to me?"
Roy waited until Edward could catch his breath. "I gave you my soul." With one shove of his foot he pushed away the pole that had supported Ed's legs and the weight of the automail pulled the younger man up into a half-sitting position. The shift of weight caused the hard knob just inside his opening to strike deep, hitting his sweet spot. Ed was surprised when he felt a small spurt of fluid from his tip. "I didn't think there was a drop left inside me," he panted.
"I'm not done with you," Roy told him. "Move. Grab the edge and put your knee up on the bench." Roy moved behind him, still deeply rooted. "I gave you my soul." There was a sharp bite on the back of his neck. "Now you get my cock. I'm going to fuck you like an animal." Strong fingers dug into his chest as the older man's body moulded itself to Edward, pulling him upright, his hips at exactly the right angle for a merciless attack. Roy placed one foot on the bench beside Ed's and the leverage was just…damn…perfection.
It was too soon for Ed to come again, his cock too sensitive, but it meant he could revel in the pleasures of being filled deep and taken hard. "I'm high and hard in you, as deep as I can reach you….I'm going to fill you up. I'm going to ride that tight hole so goddamn hard…squeeze it…squeeze it hard…."
Ed's head fell back and he hissed with pleasure. He was sure after that all-consuming body orgasm that even Roy couldn't take him any higher but this…this was fucking insane. Ed, who panicked and became resentful and defensive if anyone tried to dominate or control him, was surrendering…was agreeing to be owned. In some tiny corner of his mind that was still lucid he suddenly understood why Roy took such thorough enjoyment in Edward pounding into him without mercy, leaving Roy sore and shaking and howling in delight. I'm not in control…I'm not in control… He was surprised that the realization didn't make him wary or make him change the game, to turn the tables and get his own back. Because for the first time that he was aware of it Edward Elric was not calling the shots on at least some level….and it was okay. He was not afraid because his man…his mate…this wild beast that was snarling curses in his ear and mounting him like an animal, rutting with him…this was his equal. There was a fury and danger in fucking like this…in loving like this…and Ed gloried in it. He slammed back against that rock hard chest and the hard iron inside him churned deeper, the thick, velvety head rubbing that perfect spot and now the heat was back, rushing into his cock and he fisted it savagely as Roy growled his encouragement, one hand slipping under Ed's balls.
"Yeah….fuck, yessss….I knew you had more for me…don't hold it back, Ed…I wanna see you come for me…" Roy was panting hard and grinding between his cheeks so deep Ed could feel the tangle of wet black curls rubbing against him and the slow slap of tight balls under the water. It stretched and it burned and he gloried in it. One hand squeezed and pulled at his balls while the other dug into his shoulder. "Are you ready…you want it all, Edward?" The words were snarled out and any sane man who heard such a voice in his bed would have run for his life.
Edward had left his sanity behind along with his clothes and his shame and his inhibitions. "Lemme have it, fucker."
Roy jackknifed, cursing. It felt like his heart burst along with his cock as every hot, thick pulse spurted inside his lover's core and Ed bore down hard, clenching each inch, the ridged crown against his prostate triggering his own eruption. Roy caught Ed's offering in his palm and rubbed it over his own chest, licking his fingers before his balance gave way and the two of them sank bonelessly onto the bench, gasping for breath.
It was quite a while before they could move, either of them. If the water had been as hot as a Nihonese bath they might have been in danger. Perhaps Maes or maybe Alphonse had thought of that. The water was not warm enough to overwhelm them, thankfully, and once Roy's member had slipped out of the much loved and much ravaged haven that had clenched it the two men slowly dragged themselves up the wooden steps and held each other up on the edge of the bath, grinning wearily.
"Now I know why they call it a rectum," Ed winced. "You fuckin' wrecked it."
"Mission accomplished," Roy purred back. "Feel free to get even…only not tonight. I came so hard I think my brain is bleeding."
"I couldn't hoist my meat if you tied my dick to a derrick." He punched Roy playfully on the shoulder. "I coulda drowned at one point, shithead."
Roy smirked back at him, smug and spent and happier than he'd felt in weeks. "The only time I would let you go down, Ed, is between my legs." He jerked his head towards the Nihonese futon bedroll on the other side of the room—again, proof that Maes had put way too much thought into this room. "Can you drag yourself over there or do I have to carry you?"
"Bite me."
"Check the marks on your back in the morning."
Long after the candles guttered out Roy awoke in the darkness. He could still hear the calming whisper of water over bamboo and stone, along with the soft snoring of the man draped across his chest. They couldn't stay in here forever. He'd heard about the signs appearing in the cities. He had no doubt things were about to get ugly, extremely ugly. "All I wanted to do was take care of my country. Maybe I can't even do that anymore." His own voice merged with the sound of water and breathing and gentle snoring. "I don't know how to do anything else." It was like Edward surrendering his alchemic powers for his brother's sake. If the tide of popularity swayed the people of Amestris to rally around Samuelson, he'd have to hand over the reins to a man whose ambition was undoubtedly greater than his willingness to sacrifice.
"If I lose…"
It would hurt. And he was grateful for the man who snored and drooled on his chest, because only Edward-who had lost so much on the Promised Day—could teach him how to find something more to live for in the second half of his life…..
…TO BE CONTINUED…