A/n: um, so, sorry this took so long to write, I kinda had writer's block. heh heh *scratches back of head* anyway, everyone should be in character this time...I hope . . yeah. Happy belated birthday to one of my wonderful readers, i know I said I would get this out by your actual birthday, but we see how well that went. There's also a very happy warning for this chapter, for mature themes...but I'm sure you're all very happy to hear that. Okay, that's all I got, enjoy!
Fifteen
Roy
The deep red puddle of crimson blood reached out long, dark fingers, nearly spreading through the entire office like a flood of darkness trying to snare unsuspecting passersby. Roy had seen his fair share of blood but when it came to cold blooded murder, he was always surprised at how much of the red substance the human body actually had. The battle field was one thing and while no less terrible, it didn't seem to have the same weight as it did in a domestic setting where violence had robbed someone else of life.
There had been a crowd of people still gathered around Marco's office when he and the Lt. Colonel arrived, claiming to have been the doctor's friends. The body itself had been removed but there was tape around the door and two police personnel and a detective still combing the room. It was being investigated as a murder, though with the amount of crimson spatter over the wall at the left side of the room, he wasn't all the surprised.
Upon first hearing about it, he had dragged Hughes into his office, a cold, icy fear working its way up the back of his spine. He had seen the look on the young blond Major's face when the dark haired Lt. Colonel had burst into the room and he figured that after the night Ed had, he should be spared, at least for now, the brutal details that made the fire at the library all that much more significant. One thing was a relief, if such a thing could be found in face of the tragedy of the doctor's death. At least the older man hadn't spewed about the book voluntarily. It didn't make him feel any better about it, as he had known Marco for nearly twelve years but he would have felt worse thinking the man had betrayed them.
Hughes didn't know all that much, only what the paper said, which the reporter seemed to link with the Scar murders that had died down since their run in with him. Roy had blinked furiously at the tall window of his office for a moment, furious that they had never caught the tall Ishvalite. It had made a kind of sense, though, more so than any of the other man's targets. Marco had been involved in something that had most likely stirred up the second conflict with Ishval. And he was an alchemist. It was like a big red X had been painted on the doctor's head. And yet, at the same time, it seemed almost too neat. If his suspicions were correct, it was the military that wanted what Marco knew and having Scar come in and clean up the loose ends would have been perfect timing.
There was something he was missing. So he had snatched his coat from the back of his chair, wrapping his authority around himself like a shield and the two dark haired men swept from his office, mouths set in grim lines. A flash of gold caught his eye as he walked through the outer office, a bright gaze glancing up from the slight pile of papers on the surface of the blonde's desk and he met it for a swift moment, trying to offer a hint of reassurance in just a fleeting second. Ed just returned the look with a quick quirk of his lips, the dark circles under his eyes obvious under the bright, stark iridescent lights of the office. The little smile warmed the dark pit his heart had become, though for some reason, a wave of guilt washed over him. He felt responsible for dragging the teen into this mess but the blond was too valuable of an asset to try and convince him to back out. He was as involved as any of them. Besides, the blond would probably just go tell him to fuck himself.
Hughes glanced at him as they strode down the halls of headquarters, emerald eyes bright and knowing but thankfully, he kept his peace. For once.
Except it wasn't Scar that had killed Dr. Marco.
The office at the hospital had offered them nothing but the gruesome sight of the pool of blood so they had stepped aside and watched impassively as the detective and his two lackeys sorted through the last details inside the room. Hughes was frowning deeply, watching with a shadowed expression in his eyes.
"This doesn't seem right," he said softly and the Colonel spared him a glance, agreeing with his friend silently. The crime scenes they had come across that had the Ishvalite's signature were always more bloody. Well, not more bloody but the blood did seem to find just about every available surface to splatter against, sometimes coating ceilings along with walls. This just seemed too neat. Frustrated, Roy studied the dwindling crowd of hospital staff and a patient or two, looking for something out of the ordinary. An expression, maybe, or the way they interacted with others. Yet everyone looked either frightened, concerned or troubled, all natural reactions to finding out someone had been murdered in the place you live or work at.
A dazed looking woman caught his eye standing at the end of the corridor against the wall, holding an untouched paper cup and wearing a nurse's uniform. She looked as if she had received a rather brutal shock, eyes puffy from crying. Without a word to Hughes, he strode down the hallway, dredging up his box of knee-melting charm as he did. He needed answers and when it came to women (most of the time) he resorted to his looks.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he began, keeping his voice as smooth as the finest silk, "I saw you standing here and I couldn't help but wonder if you were alright?" he ignored his friend's soft, wry snort from behind him and put on his most concerned, sympathetic expression. Big blue eyes turned to him under a shock of red hair and he forced back the bitter taste of reluctance. He might have thought her extremely attractive at one time but now all he could think about instead was the boy with big gold eyes and how his were so much prettier. The girl sniffed, bowed her head and he was completely thrown when she started to cry. Alarmed, he moved to pat her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner and glanced at Hughes, who rolled his eyes and then the Colonel was biting back a snort of his own when the man mouthed, "Drama Queen," and turned his attention to the girl, wondering if he should be feeling bad. This wasn't about being nice, though. This was about getting answers.
"I…hick…I'm sorry," the red head was wiping her eyes with a wrinkled, over used napkin and Roy, hesitantly, offered her a tissue he snagged from a box by the window sill. She thanked him softly with a flash of red rimmed cyan and gave a small, shaky smile. He peered down at her, trying to deepen the look in his eyes to appear concerned.
"Are you alright…?" he left the question open ended and the red head walked right into it, charmed already despite her tears.
"It's Lydia. And I'm a-alright, thank you," Roy smiled and offered her another tissue so she could dab at the running mascara, trying to mask his growing impatience. Flirting was easy when he really wanted to, effortless but it had grown hard now as every time he smiled and turned someone else into a blushing, brainless twit, he was really thinking of a pair of gold eyes and a husky voice that set his blood on fire. Yet that couldn't get in the way of what he needed to do so he kept his hand on her slim shoulder and threw a long suffering look at his companion, who was watching him flirt with an amused look gleaming behind his glasses.
"Pleased to meet you, Lydia. I'm Colonel Mustang. I was wondering if you could answer a few of my questions about Dr. Marco," another dramatic sniff and a dab under the too-bright eyes and he was swallowing annoyance, wondering how he could have ever been attracted to women like this.
"Oh, did you know him?" she asked, voice a little too sad and he feigned a gloomy expression, hoping he wasn't laying it on too thick.
"I did. He was a good friend. We served together during the first war," ugh, his voice sounded sickly false to his own ears and Hughes seemed to think so too for he rolled his eyes again from his spot against the opposite wall, shaking his head ever so slightly. He knew that look; the Lt. Colonel was telling him not to push it. But the girl seemed to buy it for she "awww"-d softly, eyebrows knotted delicately in sympathy and he nodded solemnly, gritting his teeth as he did, "Can you tell me anything?" he asked finally, trying not to just barrage the poor girl with questions. The delicate face closed off, the bright head ducking once again and for a moment he feared she had started crying again. But she just shuddered violently, eyes shadowed, hand shaking and making the dark liquid in the paper cup ripple slightly.
"I-it was terrible," her voice was barely over a whisper, the horror of the memory genuine, "Dr. Marco always gets here early in the morning, sometimes not even going home at all, starting his rounds before most of the seven am shift gets here. He was the kindest man I've ever met, caring for each one of his patients like they were his family. But today none of his charts were updated when I got here this morning so after I made the rounds myself, I we-went to see if his was still asleep in his office…and I found…I found…" and that was as far as she seemed to be able to go, a fresh wave of sobs claiming her once again and Roy bit back more impatience, rubbing her back while sharing a long look with Hughes. Hopefully, she had retained some details of what she had seen upon walking through that office door.
"I know it must have been awful but it would be really helpful if you can give me some details. Did it look as if there was a struggle?" he kept his voice soothing, hoping to keep the waterworks to a minimum and felt a little sliver of hope when Lydia twisted the remains of the tissues in her hands, biting a red lip as she thought.
"W-well, I don't really recall much beyond checking to see if the doctor was alright but his office didn't seem any more disorganized than usual. I was more concerned with seeing if he was still alive," her voice shook a little bit and Roy wondered how close this girl had been to the doctor as it couldn't be the sight of blood that was giving her such a problem. She was a nurse, after all. The Colonel frowned. If there was no sign of a struggle then either Dr. Marco had been taken by surprise or he had known his attacker.
"That's good, thank you," the girl give him another shy smile, "I just have one more question. Can you tell me what the wound looked like?" lulled by his velvety voice and charming good looks, she forgot to be suspicious about such a question, eyes eager to share anything with him now.
"Yes, it was a blow to the head," her tone had become a bit professional now, as this was her field of expertise, "Blunt force trauma that crushed his skull and broke the skin. Head wounds bleed a lot," and she shuddered again. But he wasn't really paying attention anymore. They had gotten what they needed. He stepped away with a note of relief, offering one last smile.
"Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Lydia. I feel a little better knowing," and she nodded, still looking at him like he was some big knight in shining armor. Seriously, when this day was over, he was going home and slamming a certain blond against the first available surface and kissing him senseless. Hughes expression was shuttered, closed off, which meant he was thinking, trying to lay out the pieces of this brand new puzzle and start to fit them together. They were walking away when Lydia called out, voice sounding brittle in the stark gloom of the hallway.
"Colonel Mustang," he paused, turning slightly, wanting nothing more than to just get the hell out of there, "You said you were Dr. Marco's friend, right?" he blinked and noticed the red head had something clutched in her fist. The dark haired Colonel turned all the way around, curious and wondering what else she could have to tell him.
"That's right," the slender hand clenched tightly and she hesitated, blue eyes wandering to the side as if she was pondering the wisdom of calling him back. Her hesitancy was short lived, for she closed the distance between them once again and held her hand out, offering what it was she clutched in the box of her fingers.
"I found this on him. He was holding onto it like it was important. I don't know what it is but I-I think its best his friend has it," a little vile, identical to the one Ed had found in the drawer of the doctor's desk just the day before, dropped into his waiting hand, oddly heavy for such a small object. Only this one wasn't empty. Instead it was half-filled with a thick, viscous red liquid that when it came in contact with his skin even in the glass, made a shock tingle through his body. It felt oddly like an alchemical reaction only it was inside of him. He blinked, thanking her a little hollowly and turned away, forgetting all about charm or manners. Hastily, he dropped the vial into his breast pocket, hating the feel of it in his hand and ignored the looks he was getting from the Lt. Colonel as they swept through the halls of the hospital.
Roy was trying to digest the fact that he was pretty sure he had just been given at least a version of the Philosopher's stone.
**
They were in the parking lot outside the hospital, under the roof of the garage when Hughes pulled him to a stop. The emerald gaze was sharp behind the shade of his glasses, though they had to wait as an older man shuffled past them with a resigned air about him holding a bouquet of yellow roses. When there was no danger of anyone over hearing, his friend pinned him with a look that suggested another piece had been added to the puzzle.
"It wasn't Scar that killed Dr. Marco," he said, voice flat and Roy looked away, a deep frown marring his pale features. It was too clean to have been the renegade Ishvalite.
"No, it wasn't," his own voice had long ago dropped the sappy charm. The problem with this now was that there was someone who was willing to set a building on fire with one of his officers in it and had killed Dr. Marco but he didn't even know how to go about finding out who. Hughes was stroking the neat goatee on his chin, nodding slowly to himself.
"Then this has certainly become serious," the green eyes shifted around the parking lot, taking in details as he thought. Then they swung back to the Colonel's face, which was set and dark, "Roy, if the military really is in on this, this little game we're playing has just been kicked up twenty notches. You're lucky Ed wasn't killed last night. A lot more good people could die before this is over," the warning sent shivers down his spine but it did something to steel his determination as well. Now they knew the lengths this unknown threat was willing to go to. His own eyes blazed as they met shadowed pools of green.
"Are you backing out on me?" his voice wasn't accusatory. Hughes had a family, he would understand completely if he chose to remain safe and alive rather than risk his neck for something like this. But Roy knew his friend too well and expected the huge grin that slid across the Lt. Colonel's face.
"Of course not! What kind of man would I be if I backed out now?" and he laughed, his great, bellowing laugh that always had a way of comforting Roy. He smiled in return, turning to head back to the office. They were quiet for a few moments, thinking over what had been said. One thing was for sure; that book that had caused one death, almost two, needed to be decoded as soon as humanly possible.
"Lt. Colonel. May I request a favor from you?" he kept his tone level as they were entering the headquarters property but he couldn't ask Hughes this once they were inside the building for fear of being overheard.
"Of course, Colonel," as bland as if he was talking about the weather and Roy was glad this man was his friend.
"Lirr declared civil war a week ago," a soft chuckle followed his statement, as if Maes knew it was coming and he swallowed the guilt at making his friend go where he could not. But Hughes was a logical choice as he worked in intelligence and traveled frequently. He would be unnoticed where if Roy went, all sorts of alarm bells would go off.
"You want me to go," a question and an answer all in one, "Does this have anything to do with what's in your pocket?" dark eyes flickered to the side in acknowledgement. Really, the man was too observant for his own good.
"That's what I want to find out," the stark halls greeted them as they swept past the officers at the door, ignoring their salutes. Another short silence folded over them, thick but for the sharp tap of their boots on the tiled floors and then it seemed Hughes couldn't bite back his curiosity any longer.
"Just what is in your pocket?" Roy rolled his eyes, fingering the lump in the material of his jacket where his pocket was. Even with several layers of material between himself and the vile, he could still feel it smoldering away in its hiding spot, muttering darkly to itself. There was no doubt in his mind what it was now and that it had been made by pure evil. His voice when he answered was soft so it wouldn't carry down the corridors that were response to echoes and he might have laughed at his friend's rather amusing reaction (nearly tripping and opening his face against a wall) if everything wasn't looking so grim.
"I believe it is a Philosopher's stone."
Ed
The shipping off of Major Armstrong, his company and four others like it at the train station was actually rather grim and depressing. There was no fanfare, though he didn't really expect as much but the station was filled with families and friends of the departing officers. Ed wasn't really the touchy-feeling kind of person but if he saw one more mother or wife crying into a tissue as they saw their loved ones away then he was going to get choked up.
And all that kept running through his head as he stood off to the side next to Riza was WHY? Why had it come down to this? To the fighting and the shedding of blood? First with Ishval and now Lirr? And for what? It was true he didn't know the exact circumstances for either of the conflicts but was it really so bad people needed to die over it? The bile kept surging bitterly up the back of his throat, nausea roiling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of people with lives and families being sent off to kill…or be killed. He wanted to scream at the injustice of it. The sound was trapped within his chest, caught like a weak, cracking dam holding back the wave of a storm. Yet the only thing he could do was clench his teeth, swallow the bitter taste and stay silent.
The big Major turned to their group and gave a sharp salute, of which all of them returned. He wanted to see a smile, shake his hand, thank him for what he'd done for Ed in the short time that he'd known him. But none of that could be conveyed through such a simple and impersonal gesture such as a salute. He would just have to pray that he saw the man again so that he might say as much in person. All Ed could do was watch as they boarded their train, the sight of so many backs being turned and stepping away catching his breath. Steam filled the platform, the conductor's voice splitting through the air just before the screech of the whistle and steel wheels turned, skipped, turned again. Just as he thought that was the end, a window was being thrown open and a huge, bellowing voice broke over the straining chug-chug of the train.
"GOOD LUCK, LITTLE ELRIC!!!" and then the train was pulling out of the station, leaving him unsure if he should wave or die from humiliation. He chose to wave, flushing as heads turned to peer at him curiously, ignoring that Havoc was laughing and patting him on the back or the way Hawkeye was trying to bite back a grin. Once he might have yelled to hide his embarrassment but, despite himself, he found he was moved by the unexpected gesture. Again he wished, hoped that Major Armstrong got out of there alive so that he could talk to him for real.
They didn't plan on lingering, though it was not unusual for officers to leave the office to see off fellow comrades who were going off to war. It tugged at his heart at how many people had wandered to the edge of the platform even as he was moving away, hoping to get one last glimpse of the vehicle that was bearing away the ones they loved. He was just glad not to be them. Though, he supposed, there was really nothing keeping them safe in Central Headquarters either. Any day the orders could come to send them off the same way. Should it bother him he was not worried about it? Maybe but as long as he went with Roy, then it wouldn't be so terrible. Not to say he was ready to become a killer but he had known that was one of the risks that came when he signed up for this, when he accepted that watch and took the test.
The atmosphere as they wove their way back through the crowd in the station was a little grim, nobody really feeling the need to say very much. Until, of course, it was broken when his cell phone, wailing out some Metallica lyrics like it was possessed from his pocket. Startled and once again flustered, he fumbled for it, checking the number before he flipped it open. Then he blinked, forgetting people were staring because the phone was still screeching away in his hand. Winry? Why the heck was she calling him now?
"Um, are you going to answer it?" Breda was peering over his shoulder, curious and he jerked back, once again flustered. With a flick of his wrist as he turned away from the group he was with, he pressed the phone to his ear and forced his voice from his throat.
"Hello?" and was nearly bawled over when a familiar, overpowering voice broke through from the other end.
"EDWARD!? EDWARD!!! OH MY GOD!!!! I'M SO SORRY TO BOTHER YOU BUT—I KNOW YOU'RE AT WORK AND ALL—" stunned, he held the phone out away from his ear, sparing his eardrums from the verbal barrage, very aware of the curios looks he was getting now from everyone he worked with as they waited for him in the stairwell. Really, they didn't have to wait, the nosy bastards, he could just catch a cab back to the office. He wondered what could have happened, though, that had Winry calling him in such a state.
"Win—" he tried but she was still going. It seemed her steam hadn't run out yet.
"…ACTING SO WEIRD AND I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS WRONG BUT HE WOULDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING!!" Ed glared at his phone clutched in his hand, wondering if he should hang up and just let her call back when she was done screaming; once she got on a roll like this, there was no stopping her. Something caught his attention about what she was saying, though. Who was 'he'?
"Winry, calm do—" nope, still no luck and he winced with the rise in volume.
"…JUST A FREAKING NOTE THAT DIDN"T EVEN SAY ANYTHING!!! JUST GOODBYE!! HOW SELFISH OF HIM, DAMN HIM!!!" Ed blinked and suddenly was being filled with cold, aching fingers of dread. With all his heart, he wished that what he thought his long time friend was saying was not really true. It couldn't be true. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and used his own considerable volume to shut the hysterical blond up on the other end of the connection.
"WINRY!!" His voice cracked as it broke through the damage that had been done to it that night but it had the desired effect. There was instant silence and he hacked a bit, trying to find where his voice had gone running off to, pretending like people weren't staring and he hadn't just made some poor little girl with giant, gold curls start crying. It was hard to force any sound out at all but somehow he managed. "Calm down, Winry…what happened?" Ed almost dropped his phone and he was pretty sure all the color drained from his face when she answered, wondering for a moment, past the rushing in his ears, if he was going to pass out.
"It's Al!" she sobbed, breaking down and he swallowed thickly against the fresh surge of nausea that washed over him, "He went off to fight at the front!!" he was pretty sure his heart stopped because the one person he cherished above anything else had thrown himself into war and Ed wasn't even there to protect him. The phone clattered to the concrete with a clatter, the battery popping off the back panel. When he saw his brother off to go home, he never thought he would be like those many people still at the platform, not knowing if that was the last time they would ever say goodbye.
**
In the end, Riza had to practically sit on him to keep him from getting on the first train back to Resembol. She had walked over to him when he had dropped the phone, picking it off the floor while he stood there in shock, Winry's words searing through him. He wasn't even aware of the Lt. picking up his abused phone and piecing it back together until he was being herded towards a bench, a warm hand enclosing his elbow. There was a roaring in his ears that was similar to static on a radio, muffling the sounds of the train station. It was like being on the other end of a bad connection, coming to him from very far away and all his mind kept doing was showing him the image of his brother laying in the street, torn to shreds, blood pooling on the ground as it seeped from rages wounds torn into his chest. Only this time Ed wouldn't be there to stop it.
He had nearly made it to the ticket booth too.
There was no coherency of thought. His legs had lifted him off the bench and he practically sprinted towards the ticket window, reacting to the desperate thrum that had settled in his chest. All he really cared about was getting on the first train and finding his younger brother so he could kick some sense into him. It didn't matter that he knew he couldn't leave, or that there was a book that he needed to decode. He wasn't even thinking about Roy at the moment, though if he had, it would have given him a pause. No, all that ran through his mind were wide amber eyes and a soft, sweet smile that belonged to the only family he had left who had just enlisted in the military so he could fight in the war.
So sick with dread, he forgot he couldn't really speak by the time he did reach the window, trying to force a sound past the raw mass of nerves his throat had become but because he had screamed at Winry, there was nothing left for him to tell the confused man behind the counter what he wanted. Then there was a warm hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, sir, there's been a minor misunderstanding," Hawkeye's voice had him turning, the expression in his golden eyes desperate, terrified, "Come on, Major," but he tried to pull away, to go back because he couldn't bear the thought of losing his brother.
"No…Al…" he managed to rasp, pulling against the blond Lt's grasp and the deep hazel eyes softened, not understanding the reason for his anguish. She needed to understand that he had to go, to stop his brother but the strong grip wouldn't let him go and he couldn't force any sound past the obstruction in his throat. The older woman gave his shoulder a quick shake so his gaze would find hers and he could see the steel in the sharp gaze. Really, if he had been in his right mind, he could have shaken her off as he was, surprisingly enough, bigger than the Lt. but for some reason his brain couldn't form linear thoughts, remaining broken, shattered, unwilling to pull together.
"Major, take a deep breath. You can't leave," her voice sounded as if she was trying to sooth him but he shook his head and turned back once again, only to be stopped by Havoc, a heavy hand on his shoulder. He felt trapped, imprisoned and thought for a moment about using alchemy to get himself free.
"But, Al!" his voice shattered against the concrete floor, breaking into little itty pieces and he saw the look Jean shot his superior officer over his shoulder, confusion and pity warring on his face. His eyes burned with lack of sleep and his limbs felt heavy, weighing him down so that he couldn't even argue when he was once again pulled to the bench and gently deposited onto the hard slats. Through the static still fizzing in his ears, he heard the familiar sound of a cell phone being dialed and he glanced up through the haze of his desperation to see Riza scrolling through his phone for the last number that had called.
By the time they were on their way back to headquarters, he was calmer, though still royally pissed at his brother for going to the front without telling him. Riza had called Winry back, who seemed to have come to her senses, prying the younger girl for details. Her calm, authoritative attitude eased both the hysterical girl and the blond Major, whose mind was beginning to clear, filling him with a frustrated anger. He really wanted nothing more than to find his stupid, thoughtless brother, who had never done anything reckless in his entire life, and kick his ass over a couple miles. But he knew that there was no way he could leave Central now. It made him wonder, in passing, if this was what Al felt like every time his older brother did something thoughtless and dangerous. Though, he was pretty sure that in the face of the younger Elric going off to fight in a war, nothing he did came even remotely close. Except once.
Because his voice was being uncooperative, Havoc handed him a small notebook from his pocket so Ed might relay what he wanted to say to Riza, who still had possession of his phone.
It turned out, Al had dug out books he had saved from burning when they had torched their house that used to belong to his father so he might brush up on his alchemy. Winry kept apologizing because she felt as if it was her fault, not noticing what Al was up to, that there was something on his mind. Steel came into her voice, though, when he told her he could not leave the city.
"Don't worry, Ed. I'll go find him and knock some sense into that thick skull of his. And I'm not leaving until he agrees to come back!" Ed had smiled then, though it felt a little strained as the expression stretched itself across his face. They both knew her words were empty as Al never changed his mind once it was made up and for him to have done something this drastic, he would have built up a pretty solid wall of conviction. Yet Ed knew how Winry felt about his brother. If it was Roy, nothing would stop him from chasing after him and it would be hypocritical of him to try and talk Winry out of doing the same. Of course, a selfish part of him hoped that she might actually succeed in bringing Al back home. Instead, he took the phone from the Lt and forced his stubborn voice to work.
"Be careful, Win," he croaked, hating that it couldn't be him so much, his fingertips tingled with frustration. There was a little pause on the other end and then a soft laugh.
"You too, Ed. I'll make sure he's alright," that strong determination that filled his friend's voice eased some of the roiling darkness in the pit of his stomach and he smiled again at hearing it. I'm sure you will, he thought but Winry had hung up already, leaving him staring at the screen that blinked the time of how long the call had lasted. There was nothing he could do about it from where he was and while it was maddening, all he could do was hope that Winry was successful in convincing his younger brother. And if not…well, he had to believe Al was going to be okay. Though, when he thought about it, he rather pitied his brother once the blond mechanic got a hold of him. Especially if she had a hard, metal object in her hands; she was rather brutal when it came to this kind of thing.
It wasn't like Al couldn't take care of himself; he was even better than Ed at hand to hand combat. But, from what he heard from those that had actually fought in a battle, war wasn't like a fight. It was fast pace, unpredictable and it steals any sense of self you might have. He realized that his younger brother would be hurt just as much living through it than if he did not. Though, how the younger boy had gotten past the age requirement was beyond him. Last time he checked, Al was still seventeen.
Ed growled darkly to himself as they filed back into the office, ignoring the petty argument Havoc was having with Fuery about something completely irrelevant, wishing he could kick his brother really hard in the shins. Damn devious little sneak. Really, when he got his hands on his little brother, the boy wasn't going to be able to walk for a week. The blond had just plunked down at his desk, face dark and feeling like he could fall asleep right there; it felt as if this day was trying to suck his life away, tossing him around like he was just some kind of toy until he felt bruised and exhausted when a cool voice addressed him.
"Major, can I speak with you for a moment?" Ed glanced up to see Roy standing at the door to his office, expression shuttered, looking every inch the Colonel. Wondering what the older man had found at the hospital, he once again leveled himself to his feet. He couldn't think of any other reason why the man would want to talk to him wearing that particular look on his face. Or lack thereof. The office was bright with the light of the early afternoon sun bearing into the room, glinting off the shiny top of the large desk and catching bright highlights in the dark hair as Roy perched on the arm of one of the couches, face still giving nothing away. The blond closed the door softly, blocking out the argument outside that seemed to be picking up in volume and participants just in case only to be caught in the dark gaze, the slanted eyes shadowed. The Colonel caught the younger alchemist off guard, though, when he finally spoke.
"You look tired," his voice was soft, holding a hint of concern and the blond was blushing slightly as he thought of that morning, the way this man had kissed him, had lain beside him in the glittering debris of his kitchen that he had destroyed because he had thought the younger man was hurt or dead. To hide the heat flaring over his cheeks, he waved his hand as if to brush it off.
"I'll live," he rasped, wincing and then shrugged when the depth of the concern in the dark eyes widened. He could tell Mustang was having a hard time remaining on the arm of the couch where he was perched. The curved lips twisted slightly.
"Sure you will. You sound like you swallowed some of that fire last night," to which Ed snorted a small laugh, though it annoyed him that he couldn't really communicate. And then an idea came to him and he walked over to the couch, pressing his palms together before touching the cool, rough leather. Letters rose out of the dark material, like there was something behind the cushion as he pulled the shapes he wanted from the material and Roy made a small, appreciative noise in the back of his throat.
Feels like it too. But that's not why you called me here. The dark eyes drifted over his face, studying him and then Roy ducked his head with a small smile, black hair sweeping down to hide the shadowed gaze. The blond flicked the older man on the arm to get his attention before pressing his hands together again. What's so funny? Then gave a small, rattling squeak of surprise when a hand closed over his wrist and pulled him closer to the bigger man. The dark eyes were glittering with amusement.
"Nothing's funny. You just always find the most interesting solutions to problems," to which Ed glared, trying to tug his hand free because the look in the Colonel's eyes was beginning to smolder dangerously.
"You're laughing at me," the blond accused, voice a raw rasp, glare a deep gold, molten and searing. Roy smiled slightly, tugging the smaller alchemist closer and despite himself, the Major allowed a small step in the older man's direction, trying to maintain the sour expression he was wearing but it was difficult with the man looking at him like he wanted to throw him onto the couch and kiss the life out of him. Not that he would have minded, really. The last time something had almost happened in this office came to mind, though and he planted his feet, refusing to allow the Colonel to draw him closer. Shit, the way those neat, curved lips were smirking, he was having a hard time resisting.
"I'm not laughing at you Ed," Roy's deep voice trickled along his skin, making him shiver. The deep fire in the dark gaze was pulling at him, breaking down the barriers he knew they needed to keep while at work. Another shuffling step over the polished wood and his hip was pressed right against the edge of the couch arm, the dark haired man just scant inches away. The urge to smile was gone now because he was trapped, stuck in that dark, raging flame. Another hand was sliding into his hair, the gaze drawing closer and he parted his lips because it was getting harder to breathe, heat fizzing through him. He was so close to the other man, he could make out the tiniest details, like the way little shadows were cast by individual strands of midnight tinted hair or how the dark eyelashes, which were surprisingly long, brushed down over pale cheekbones every time the Colonel blinked. Dark eyebrows arched up slightly in the middle, giving him a cocky demeanor but Ed liked that. He liked the way the thin nostrils of the sharp nose pinched and turned white when the man was being serious about something, he liked the way the corners of his mouth dipped in slightly, he liked the strong chin and the prominent cheekbones. Everything, he liked everything and the fact that they were still in the office melted away, became unimportant.
Ed saw all of this in the two seconds before Roy closed the distance and claimed his lips then he was tumbling, falling into a deep pool of midnight full of bright, blinking stars. The world faded into insignificance as his eyes slid closed and he leaned in, supporting himself with his hands against the couch arm. All he knew was the warm, silky heat of the other man's lips caressing his, moving against his bottom lip then the top, breath searing him as it slipped into his mouth and, ah, it tasted so good, his teeth ached. It was slow, remaining just a kiss, fingers in his hair cradling his head. Roy pulled back for the shortest moment in which they shared a quick, heavy-lidded glance before he was coming back for more, sucking away all of the blonde's air as he forced his way into Ed's mouth.
Fire crackled at the edges of his vision when the hot, slick tongue swiped over his own, and he twined his own around it before the dark haired man could retreat, sliding along it, creating a heady friction that had the Colonel freeing his wrist so he could wrap a strong arm around his back, holding him in place as he steadied himself against broad shoulders, metal fingers buried in soft, black hair. Something was rising up within him, like a giant wave threatening to sweep him away that warmed him all the way down to his toes. He was losing himself to this man, his insides turning to black fire and the only thing he could do was to take the plunge. Then he was pushing his way past the bigger man's lips and dipped into the wonderful, heady heat that was Roy. He couldn't get enough, using the tip of his tongue to find the exhilarating flavor in every last corner of his mouth and the older man just tipped his head back and let him, a small noise caught in the back of his throat that Ed might have missed had he not had his tongue down it.
When they finally pulled apart, sucking air back into his singed lungs actually hurt something fierce but he didn't care because Roy was breathing just as hard and his dark gaze looked slightly glazed as he looked down at the blond, who had wrapped his arms around the Colonel's neck as tightly as he could. The dark haired man too had moved, now perched against the edge of the arm so their chests were pressed together. He could feel the steady thrum of the bigger man's heart even through their clothes, the pace a little bit fast. It gave him a little bit of a thrill when he saw what he had done to Roy with just a couple kisses and he smiled lopsidedly as he pressed his forehead to the Colonel's, bright golden strands of hair mingling with shorter ones the color of crow's wings.
Giddy joy rumbled around in his chest, like a cat purring away before a bright fire; he never knew a kiss could feel like that. Like he could leap from a cliff and know he would be fine because he would soar, would fly, would float his way to the bottom because he was too light to fall. Yet, he supposed that with this man, who loved him, whom he loved, just a single, brief touch would make him feel so. A thumb brushed against his bottom lip, dark eyes following the gesture and before the older man could react, he sucked the digit into the heat of his mouth, rolling his tongue around it as he sucked, watching the burning flames of desire leap up in the dark gaze. He let it go a moment later but the inferno of desire had already been ignited. Then Roy's lips quirked in a small grin, brushing his now wet thumb against the blonde's lips once more before straightening, putting some distance between them.
"You're distracting me," the older man accused in a husky voice and Ed took a swing at him, annoyed, as he had little voice left with which to yell. The man had one hell of a nerve, saying that. After all, it was him that had dragged Ed over, not the other way around. The Colonel just dodged it, catching his wrist and his dark eyes danced as he brought the blonde's hand to his lips and planted a warm, little kiss into his palm. The gesture made Ed still, wondering if the man was going to do what Ed had done to him. But instead, he just kissed the sensitive skin of the inside of his hand once more and let him go, regret stifling the longing in the dark gaze, "I have a request to make of you," Ed nodded, indicating for him to continue even as he leaned against the couch arm again and threaded his fingers through the dark hair, "I really need you to go home and start decoding that book. Someone found out about that book and killed Dr. Marco for it. I need to know why."
Ed blinked and pulled away, dropping his hand to the leather arm of the couch, frown marring his full lips, thinking about the man he had just talked to yesterday being killed in his office for something that had almost landed the blond in the same predicament. The Colonel's dark eyes had become pinched at the corners, betraying the troubled expression and suddenly he looked tired, dark circles a testament to the fact that he too had not slept that past night.
"Should—" the blond winced then swallowed, still tasting Roy in his mouth as he did, "Should I leave…now?" he rasped, worried that it might still look suspicious now if he left. Pale fingers reached out and he shivered once more when they stroked the skin over his raw throat, the disturbed look in pools of bright obsidian deepening.
"Don't worry. The report I sent in has you going with Hughes to Lirr in the guise of hunting for Scar. That'll give you three days to a week, depending on how long the Lt. Colonel takes. Do you think you can do it in that time?" the long fingers were still stroking, moving over the golden skin at the side of his neck, following along the edge of a scar that came close to his collar bone of the shoulder that ended in metal. He debated. Could he decode that book that fast? He hadn't even taken a look at it and while he was pretty clever with codes, he was sure Dr. Marco would have made this one difficult to crack.
"I'll…I'll try my best," he managed and was rewarded with a small smile that did nothing to mask the older man's concern. It was endearing but, really, he wasn't a child.
"I know. Just don't push yourself. I know you're tired and I would ask you to take your time but—" and Ed pressed his fingers against the warm lips, halting Roy's flow of words, rolling his eyes as he did.
"I know. It's fine," ugh, his voice sounded awful, all raspy and raw and he was sure it did nothing to convince the Colonel that he really was going to be fine. But the man's fingers slipped away, warmth dissipating, and he nodded slightly, letting Ed step away, "I'll see you when…" he choked in the middle of his sentence, already getting annoyed at the handicap the fire had imposed on him, noting how Roy was forcing himself not to move as the younger alchemist tried to get his breath back past the pain. Finally, eyes watering slightly from the sting, he managed to clear his throat, "…see you when you get home?" and it was worth it to see the dark gaze brighten, soften, the man's lips curling up in a small smile.
"Yeah," the Major nodded and turned only to be stopped once more by the Colonel's silken voice, "Aren't you forgetting something?" confused, Ed faced the older man once more who was dangling a set of keys from his index finger, the cool metal glinting in the light spilling into the room. The younger alchemist blinked at them, then at the slightly strained look on Roy's face and then back to the keys. Then understanding dawned on him and his entire countenance lit up like a miniature sun, rivaling the one burning away in the sky outside.
"Really!?" he rasped, delight seeping from every pore and snatched the keys in excitement before the dark haired man could change his mind. It was almost too good to be true; he was really letting Ed drive the Corvette?! Excitement clawed up the back of his damaged throat and all he could do was grin as he clutched the keys to his chest. Roy looked amused, hesitation gone.
"Yeah, really. Hey…" and he caught Ed's sleeve, eyes serious once again as he leaned towards the teen. Again the blond was caught in searing pools of darkness, "Be careful," the words were breathed, and his felt his smile change. Slender fingers brushed against the pale slope of a cheekbone that he admired just a few minutes before, excitement still tingling through his extremities at the thought of driving the sleek black car that belonged to the older man.
"Don't worry about…about the car. I'll take care of it," he was forced to whisper the last part when his voice gave out and the grip on his sleeve tightened, an emotion he couldn't name racing through the Colonel's eyes.
"I don't give a shit about the car," he snarled. Ed was momentarily at a loss, wide eyes blinking rapidly and then he grinned, eyes narrowing to little half-moons when he realized what Roy was saying. The man's breath caught noticeably and he planted a quick kiss on a pale cheek, feeling stupidly giddy, keys clutched in his hand. Why what he said next slipped out he really couldn't say. Perhaps because he was running on no sleep or because the last kiss they had shared was still fizzing through his system. Though, in truth, he knew it was because it was the truth. For whatever reason, he said it and the words couldn't be taken back,
"Love you too!" it was thrown carelessly over his shoulder as he practically skipped to the door, rings of metal keys tinkling in his grip. Really, at the moment all he could think of was I get to drive the 'Vette! so it didn't dawn on him what he had just said as he bid everyone a swift farewell and nearly sprinted to the parking lot, heart racing when the sleek, shiny body of the car in question came into view.
It wasn't until he had climbed into the driver's seat and was getting ready to turn the key in the ignition, thinking that Roy was being really nice, letting him drive his car when it dawned on him. He recalled the glimpse of the man's face as he had whipped from the bright office and was brought up short by the memory of the dark eyes open as wide as they could go as they watched the Major dash out the door, shock wiping the pale features blank. Then he remembered the words that had flown from his mouth and his forehead connected with the steering wheel, hard.
It could have been worse. He could have said it and not meant it. Yet as he sat there, he knew that though it might not have been the most tactful delivery or ideal setting, he had meant it, sincerely, with every fiber of his being.
Roy
Love you too!
The words that Ed had thrown over his shoulder as he rushed out of the office rang in the Colonel's ears for the rest of the day, making him restless. While he wanted to believe the blond had meant them in the true sense, he couldn't help but think that he had only said them because he was excited about driving Roy's car. Not that the dark haired man really blamed him. He himself still got tingles every once and while when he drove the thing. Yet the way the gold eyes had lit up like a sun had been unveiled behind them was worth the mental torment. It had been amusing to watch as the teen had tried to work through his cryptic "Aren't you forgetting something?" and then the pretty face changed when he realized what Roy was saying, the light suffusing the tawny skin and bright eyes beautiful, priceless.
Of course, that also meant he was a little distracted for the rest of the day and because he was preoccupied, most of his paperwork never got done. Which landed him with a steely faced Riza in his office at five o'clock with a suggestive hand on her gun and a glint in her eyes that never boded well for him if he didn't get his work done. He had grumbled but the faster he got it done, the faster he could go home to Ed so he sat down and started writing.
Actually, he had never gotten through a pile of paperwork so fast before. Even the Lt. lifted an eyebrow as he sauntered out of his office only an hour later, long black jacket he wore over his uniform draped over his arm looking smug. What he didn't tell her was that he had been spurred on by the memory of warm, full lips opening under his, tasting of sunlight and coke and three words that had branded themselves into his brain, playing over and over again. Though he thought she might have suspected.
The bad thing was that he was forced to ask her for a ride home and when she asked why, he flushed when he told her. The surprise in the dark hazel eyes had seen right through him, and then Riza had smiled. He knew that smile. It was that all-knowing smile that she adopted sometimes only with him, like she just figured out some mystery, though this one wasn't much of a secret, it seemed. It was true, though; Roy never let anyone drive his car. Even Hughes and the man had begged him so many times, it was starting to give him a complex. Yet when he had pulled the keys from his pocket and offered them to the blond, he had barely hesitated. Of course, since he wanted the teen to go back home, he needed to give him a means to get there but he could have just given him money for a bus.
Riza said as much as she was driving him home, breaking the easy silence and he had just glanced at her. It was true, he could have done that but it hadn't even crossed his mind. Ed was more important to him than his car was anyway. Besides, that seemed a little cold. And anyway, he wouldn't give up seeing the look the blond had given him when he had taken the keys, eyes blazing with excitement, the grin brighter than the sun pouring through the window. It had stalled the steady beat of his heart, throwing him off balance and making the breath catch in his throat. His answer was a noncommittal shrug. The Lt's lips curled upwards as she turned onto his block.
"He's got you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he?" she snickered and Roy puffed an annoyed breath against the cool glass, causing it to mist over briefly. It was true though. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the blond boy that had been staying with him and if that meant he was whipped, well, then so be it.
"So what?" he growled, already undoing his seatbelt as the blond Lt. pulled into his driveway, intent on getting inside his house and away from her knowing smile that saw right through him. Riza just continued to smile as he extracted himself from the passenger seat of his car. Thing was, he didn't really care if Ed had him wrapped around his finger; it was a place he was perfectly happy being. As a matter of fact, he didn't feel trapped by it in any way. Rather, it felt as if he had just really started to understand what it was to feel. Just as he was closing the door, the Lt. called out again, snagging his attention.
"I'm happy for you, Roy," and the door shut. He blinked, just watching the little blue car pull from his driveway and disappear down the street. His subordinate and long time friend didn't usually call him by his first name which meant that she was serious. She had already told him she approved of him and Ed being together, though not in so many words. The fact that she was happy for him was more important to him than he cared to admit. Fighting a grin, he let himself in by the front door as it seemed his house guest had not left the garage open for him and was nearly bowled over by the smell of something cooking.
It was like he had walked into a five star restaurant, all the sweet, cloying scents of spice and cooking food flooding his senses. The tantalizing smell of meat cooking in seasoning mixed with something sweet had his mouth filling with saliva, his stomach forcefully reminding him how late he was. It was like a chain had been connected to his stomach so he was being drawn towards the kitchen, feet moving almost without his permission. Music floated to him as he made his way down the hallway, upbeat rock that he didn't recognize which was accompanied by a rasping husky tenor that would sing a line or two, echoing through the wide open space of the kitchen.
The first thing he noticed as he rounded the corner was that the kitchen and dining space was once again spotless, as if cleaning up after Roy's temper tantrum had been the first thing Ed had done once he walked through the door. Every last plate and glass seemed to be back in their proper places, the rest of the holes the blond hadn't gotten to that morning smoothed over like they had never been. Like the night had never happened, though he was certainly not inclined to forget.
The second thing he saw was Ed.
Ed standing in front of the stove, bright hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing an old t-shirt that Roy knew was one of his own and a pair of denim shorts that had been ripped off at the knees. His metal leg glinted in the reddish light still spilling in through the windows as he moved. A spoon was held loosely in his hand as he poured over an open book on the countertop, soft muttering reaching the Colonel's ears as he stood in the doorway, face blank. The teen then went back to the stove, adding something from a bowl on the counter next to the book to the tallest of the three pots shimmering away on top of the stove. Watching the younger alchemist work, a different kind of appetite worked its way through him, dark eyes unable to tear free from the scene in front of him.
He knew he shouldn't have been shocked to find the teen could cook but he was anyway. Plus, he realized, leaning against the doorway, it was a really big turn on. As he watched, Ed started humming, eyeing the book again and waving the spoon around before he dipped it back into the pot, slim hips moving in time to the music playing on the small stereo across the kitchen by the sink. All the while he watched, mouth going dry and a familiar aching want beginning to swell within his veins. It tasted like gold fire at the back of his tongue. Then the music changed slightly, coming to a chorus and the blond tipped his head back, belting the lyrics to the ceiling, smoke damaged voice sounding even sexier as he did this little twist as he got into the music. Just like that, the fire flared within the dark haired man, a swift river of gold lava threatening to carry him away.
That was how Ed saw him, pausing in his little dance with wide eyes and Roy stared back, trying to swallow the thick need that was making his finger tips tingle and his eyes roamed the sharp, pretty face staring at him in embarrassment and shock.
"Roy," the younger alchemist rasped weakly, licking his lips nervously and tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ears, "I didn't hear you come in," every move Ed made had the possessive need stoked hotter, brighter within the Colonel until he was advancing on the blond, eyes smoldering, sufficiently trapping the blond. The golden eyes widened, a flush working its way over the tawny cheeks, giving a dusky quality to his complexion and Roy was hard pressed not to slam the younger man against the kitchen table and fuck him into oblivion. His progress across the kitchen had Ed backing up towards the counter, bright eyes alarmed. The older alchemist never wanted to scare the teen but there was a beast raging in his chest, roaring so he could barely hear and breathing fire that crackled through him like it was a living thing, rampaging, threatening to tear him apart. Those full lips that always tasted like honey and sunlight parted, whispering his name and he took hold of the slim shoulders, swinging the shorter alchemist around so he could slam the boy into the refrigerator, ignoring the yelp of surprise.
There he proceeded to kiss the life out of the blond. It was a rather insensitive move, doing that to the teen but for some reason, he could really care less. He crushed his body into the slighter one, holding the slender wrists, one warm flesh the other cool metal, firmly on either side of the bright golden head, one fist still clutching the spoon. The mouth under his opened with a gasping whimper of what was probably a protest at the rough treatment but with that taste sliding over his tongue and melting his bones, he couldn't even ease up. Over and over he plunged his tongue into the bright heat that was the teen's mouth, who was still making little grunting whines as he tried to keep up with the sudden storm. Their slick appendages moved and tangled together, lips sliding and sucking and seeking. Deeper and deeper until Ed was all around him, their foreheads pressed together as he dove into the younger man's mouth, who let out a groan that he matched, hands releasing the wrists so he might circle the slender waist and pull the blond closer.
Ed, now completely lost in the kiss had to wrap his arms around the bigger man's neck just to keep himself upright, slighter body softening, molding into Roy's. He brought a hand up and slipped it into the long, silky hair, loosening the tie holding it back and tipped the blonde's head back. He eased back a bit, taking his time, tongue stroking the insides and roof of the younger alchemist's mouth, harsh breaths slipping past his own lips. It was a taste he could never tire of, the softer kiss so sweet, the fire was pressing behind his eyelids until he was nearly incoherent with desire. Then he was plunging back in, forcing the smaller jaw open as far as it might go and the grip in his hair tightened, a small, pained "nngh!" jerking him back to reality.
Reluctantly, Roy pulled away, breath coming heavy for he was sure a true fire had been lit inside of him, sucking away all of his oxygen. Ed was in worse shape, though, hands still clutching dark hair, bruised lips parted as he tried to catch his breath, a pink stain suffusing his cheeks and the way he leaned against the bigger frame, the Colonel was sure that if he let go, the smaller alchemist would slide to the ground. Liquid gold flickered, peered out from behind heavy eyelids and Roy grinned at the look, desire spiking again. He rubbed his nose into honey gold locks, chuckling.
"Honey, I'm home," he breathed into the shell of the boy's ear, who puffed a small laugh against the bigger man's shoulder, arms tightening briefly around his neck. There was a small pause where he moved his hand on the blonde's waist up and down his side, careful to keep his fingers away from bare skin; he didn't know if he could control himself for much longer as it was. The lithe body still crushed to his own was taunting him, a hip bone pressing into his, long, lean thighs trapped by his own so that he couldn't help but think about what it might be like if he could take the next step. Then Ed gave another small laugh, breath hot against the side of his neck.
"Welcome home," Roy shivered, feeling nearly giddy with sudden, overwhelming joy. After being alone for so long, to be greeted in such a way made his heart catch, snagging against the memory of raw loneliness and he hoped that he would always have someone to come home to. Then there was a rather brutal yank on his hair as Ed gasped to which he stumbled away, rubbing the back of his head. Gasping profanities, the boy flew back to the stove, frantically checking the pots still simmering quietly away on the stove before he sagged in relief. One hand still on the back of his head, Roy couldn't help but be amused. "Thank God," he heard the teen mumble before golden eyes glared at him, pinning him with a heavy accusation, "You damn bastard, waltzing in here and distracting me! Do you want to eat tonight?" to which Roy just grinned, watching for a moment as Ed, mumbling to himself, once more began consulting the book. The reaction was rather endearing, especially when he watched the younger alchemist reach up discreetly and brush shy fingertips along his lips that looked thoroughly, deliciously plundered. Unable to hold back, he sidled up behind the blond and wrapped his arms around the slender waist, resting his chin on a hard, metal shoulder. The back he was pressed into tensed.
"I'm allowed to waltz, it's my house," to which Ed growled and tried to shake him off, moving stiffly with the extra weight to the big pan on the back right burner of the stove, adding a pinch of something to the diced potatoes that hissed in the snapping hot oil they were basking in.
"You're such a jerk sometimes, you know that?" the younger man hissed, elbowing him none too gently in his stomach but he refused to let go, dark eyes watching the mismatched hands as they worked, bright strands of hair brushing against his cheek. There was a long pause while he continued to hang on the slighter frame, liking the feel of the muscles of the blonde's abdomen slide under his hands as the teen worked, "I didn't know you could cook," he finally commented softly, noting the book Ed was using was actually the one the boy had rescued the night before. A snort drew his attention.
"I really can't without directions," the younger alchemist said, the forced annoyance from before gone and Roy could have not been there at all for all Ed was paying attention to their rather awkward attachment. The dark haired man eyed the pots humming away over the heat of the stove and one slim, dark eyebrow arched in perplexity. It certainly looked to him as if the younger alchemist had been doing this his whole life.
"So why is it different with directions?" he asked, voice innocent and the blond breathed a sigh, as if he was dealing with a three year old child. A gold glance dazzled him before it slid away again to fall in the pot where a rather large and mouth watering sirloin was cooking.
"I'm an alchemist, Roy. I work in material manipulation. As long as there are directions, I'm fine. It's the coming up with something on the fly I'm not so good at," the last bit was said with a little wry twisting of the plump lips and the Colonel couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his chest. He had to admit, he liked that Ed could cook, even if he had something of a handicap. Maybe he would have to go out and get some cookbooks for the kid…and an apron. Hmmm, he could do things with that. The teen's elbow in his ribs and his gruff voice shook him from his musings.
"Go do something constructive, you useless old man," defiantly an apron. With frills. He laughed, kissing a smooth cheek before he pulled away to set the table. The gold gaze that followed him and the accompanying smile warmed him. It was then he realized as he rummaged about in the silverware drawer that it wasn't the place that made it a home. It was this feeling, burning away in the depths of his heart and the person that put it there, the concept of forever suddenly something he could look forward to.
**
He wasn't surprised when dinner turned out to be very good. Certainly not the best he'd ever had but more than eatable. Whether it was the recipe or the kid's cooking, he didn't know but even he went back for seconds, something that had the teen beaming through the rest of dinner and even while they cleaned up. Ed was the one that started the fight, flicking soapy water at the taller man with a mischievous glint in his bright eyes, to which Roy retaliated with a sharp flick of a damp towel. It was childish but they were howling and laughing by the time it was over, drenched and with something else to clean up but feeling oddly satisfied. The blond hair had come down in the confusion and he pushed it back before leaving another kiss on a tan cheek, pulling away to see the shy look in the teen's eyes that disappeared when he leaned up and pecked the older alchemist on the mouth.
After that, Ed ensconced himself in the library, intent on working on decoding the book he had used to make their meal with, only to fall asleep against the arm of the couch moments later, where Roy found him when he came back from changing his clothes as he was the only one who had gotten really wet. The shimmering hair spilled over the blonde's relaxed face and arm which was folded up and propped up to be used as a pillow. An open notebook, pages blank, lay open on the boy's lap, which he shifted out of the way. Though he himself hadn't been caught in a burning building just the night before, fatigue tugged at his limbs, making it hard to lean down and slip his arms around the slim back and under the mismatched knees to lift the smaller alchemist in his arms. Ed made a soft noise and he shifted, a hand clutching at the material of the older man's shirt, blond head rolling against a broad shoulder. The soft lips parted, breath hissing past white teeth and he stood for a moment, transfixed, all the golden beauty draped in his arms stealing his breath once again.
It was the boy's weight that had him moving, turning lights off with some difficulty as he did, making his way up to the guest room. He thought about letting the blond sleep in his bed with him as he had been doing but to be honest, he was sure he wouldn't be able to control himself. The giant beast of desire was still curled in his chest, waiting for the smallest excuse to rise up and tear through him, leaving him helpless. Perhaps it was a good thing he was so tired. So he tucked Ed into the large bed that was not his own, the boy sighing softly and curling into the warmth. For a moment, he considered just throwing caution to the wind and slipping under the blankets with the blond but he throttled the thought before it could form fully.
Roy just swept the gleaming hair back off a tawny forehead, his own skin pale against the bright color and smiled softly.
"Thanks for being my home, Ed," he whispered, leaning down to once more plant a gentle kiss on the sharp slope if a curving cheekbone, the soft skin warm under his lips, "I love you," it seemed to him that the teen smiled slightly then but he knew he was just imagining things. Yet even as the room was plunged into darkness, a light seemed to follow him all the way back to his room, bright and golden, and into his dreams.
Al
The thing about being in fast pace and deadly conditions such as a medic in a battle field was that you learn very quickly what it was that needed to be done to survive. Especially with the kind of tactics the Ishvalites were using. Because Ametris were trying to win back the town, they had set up a place to launch their assault from. The problem with this was that the enemy had become unpredictable, many times infiltrating what was supposed to be a secured location, striking hard, taking down several to a dozen Ametris soldiers at a time before drawing back. He had to adapt his way of using the circles to speed up the process for healing, though he would certainly like to learn how his brother could just clap his hands to perform a transmutation. It would defiantly come in handy.
A nasty attack left too many men injured for him to take care of all by himself and they were forced to pull back to camp, the tall blond alchemist supporting the weight of a comrade whose name he didn't know. He had been shot in the back as they made their retreat, his cry catching Al's attention over the angry spattering of gunfire. The dead weight dragged him down but he forced his legs to move, forgetting about being exhausted and filthy and even forgot to wonder, for the fifteenth time that hour if he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life. Well, it was a little late for that now anyway, and if it hadn't been for his father's alchemy, they would have lost five more men.
So that was how he returned to the safety of the camp behind the trees; bone tired, numb and covered in other people's blood to come across a strange scene, though, if he was honest with himself, not completely unexpected.
Al had just managed to stumble to the medical tent to have the unnamed soldier weighing him down taken carefully away on a stretcher when the sound of raised voices floating through the tents caught his attention. What he really wanted was to find the showers that had been set up on the outskirts of camp, siphon the gore and dirt from his body and crawl back to his cot to sleep. Colonel Basque Grand had given him leave to do as he wished when he wasn't needed on the field and he hoped he would be given an hour or two so that he might shut his eyes to the nightmare that was war. In one day, everything had been stripped from him, his innocence stolen away and turned into something darker. He had always been told he was too kind for his own good. After witnessing what he had that day, he wondered if that part of him had changed.
Yet, despite the desperate need for a reprieve, something about one of the voices he was hearing, raised in alarm and anger was nagging at the corners of his mind, striking him as familiar. Hoisting his gun over his shoulder and trying to ignore the way the sticky blood felt as it chafed under his collar and in his boots, the tall blond alchemist made his way to the center of camp, where the radio tent was located, right next to the officer's semi-private meeting tent.
Shock coursed through him, followed closely by terror and for a long moment he couldn't do anything but stare.
The big, dark skinned Colonel stood in the middle of the camp's clearing, hands on his hips and dark eyes narrowed as he contemplated a girl being held back by Lt. Ross, who was trying to placate her as she yelled at the tall officer, face flushed with anger and bright long hair whipping about her like she was made from sunlight and rage. Her words could be heard by half the camp, many soldiers pausing to stare much like he was, only they were more curious then horrified. Then what Winry was screeching penetrated his brain, making sense and he lurched forward, hoping to stem the barrage of verbal assault before she said anything else.
"Winry!" he gasped, drawing the attention of both the irate girl and his superior officer, whose thunderous frown bordered on dangerous. The girl whipped her head around, wide blue eyes going round when she saw him, "What are you doing here?" his voice sounded weak even to his own ears and he was very aware of the sight he made right then, filthy as he was and nearly wiped clean from all the alchemy he had been forced to do that day. They stared at each other for a long moment, the Major's brain in a panicked twist, aware that there were a lot of people watching. Ross must have loosened her hold on the blond, who had stilled upon seeing Al because the look was broken when a flash of fire crossed the girl's face and she tore away from the dark haired Lt, launching herself at the tall blond alchemist.
For a moment he thought she was going to hug him, the cyan tinted eyes bright until a lancing pain cracked across his face, fire shooting through his cheek and down his neck and he stumbled, eyes wide. Winry had punched him. Blinking past the blinding ache in his jaw, pressing a cool, clammy hand to the spot, amber eyes stared down at the girl, whose fists were clenched at her side, breath coming in sharp huffs.
"Wha—" he started but the blue eyes flashed again as she cut him off, her voice low and thick with restrained anger.
"How dare you Alphonse," she hissed, looking for all the world like some raging deity with her fiery blond hair and bright, wide eyes, "How dare you leave us with no idea where you had gone and with one measly note? Don't we mean more to you than a torn out piece of paper and some thoughtlessly scrawled words? Do you have any idea how we felt? How I felt?" Al swallowed thickly, aware of the people who were witnessing the scene beginning to smile behind their hands, no doubt whispering about what looked to be a lover's spat. Lord, didn't he wish.
"Winry, I'm sorry," he said quietly, the weight of the Colonel's gaze heavy and he found himself fighting a blush, feeling caught, trapped. How the girl had found him, he had no idea but she couldn't stay here; he didn't want her seeing what he had. She was glaring up at him, fury still radiating off her slender figure. A deep voice broke in through their conversation, startling the Major.
"Is this yours then?" the Colonel asked and Al stepped in front of Winry, hearing her hiss of annoyance.
"Yes, sir," then Winry was in his face again, eyes blazing brighter than the biggest, brightest stretch of sky on a clear day, anger making them burn. There was something behind the intensity of the fury, too, something that looked jagged and terrified.
"If you're sorry, then come back home with me. You don't have to be here," but Al shook his head, catching the dark Colonel shifting his stance at the statement. After just a day of being here, he saw how much of a difference his alchemy had made on the number of soldiers surviving and he couldn't turn his back on that.
"I can't do that," his soft tenor lowered, soft but backed with steel and his child hood friend eyed him, as if she was considering something. He had seen that look before and it never boded well. Suddenly the girl turned, marching back to Colonel Basque Grand, her face set and he choked. Damn girl.
"Sir, I noticed on my way in here several soldiers with damaged automail," the dark eyes lit up with interest and something akin to fear prickled the back of Al's neck. He rushed forward, intent on dragging Winry away but he was discouraged by the girl's full-fledged glare. She didn't use it often but when she did, it was nearly as potent as his brother's, only her fire was a searing sapphire rather than a molten gold.
"There are. What's it to you?" the deep voice seemed like night next to her bright, slender determination and Al stepped up next to her, hoping to catch the Colonel's attention.
"Sir, she's—" but he didn't get to finish as there was a slender hand on his own, pinching his fingers together painfully. Lt. Ross was watching the whole exchange with a bright amusement in her dark eyes, a small smile curled on her lips. But Winry talked right over him as if he wasn't even there.
"I'm a mechanic," she stated, pride in her profession leaking into her voice. Al might have admired her for the way she stood up to someone as intimidating as the Colonel if he hadn't been so afraid of him accepting her offer. The cool, dark gaze was assessing the girl still crushing the blond alchemist's fingers.
"How old are you?" damn, damn. Al tried to step in front of his friend again, steal the older man's attention away from her but suddenly her grip became an iron vise, a threat, bright blue flashing in his direction as a warning.
"Sir, please—" this was Al again but the girl was already answering; at least for her it was legal as she was Ed's age. It was Al who wasn't really supposed to be there. But a protective beast was rising up within him, choking him. If this girl got hurt, they were going to have a very angry and competent alchemist on their hands. The Colonel was nodding, the look in his eyes already fitting her in to gain an advantage and Al turned to his friend, trying once last time.
"Please, Winry, go home. Winry!" but she was following the dark Colonel and he only followed a few steps, feeling helpless. It was like he wasn't even there, the bright, sky blue gaze not looking back even once as the girl walked away, determination in the steady sway of her hips as the two figures disappeared around the side of a tent. He glared after her, anger of his own matching the helpless feeling, so much so that he jumped when a hand gently circled his arm. Glancing down, he found sympathy in Lt. Ross's dark eyes.
"She's pretty impressive," the older woman commented as they both looked at the spot where the blond teenage girl had disappeared in the wake of the giant Colonel. Al's shoulder's sagged in defeat, frustration coating the back of his tongue thickly. The color of amber flattened.
"She's a stubborn, defiant hand-full," he half snarled, which earned him a soft laugh. Their audience had long since dispersed, but he couldn't help but wonder what they thought about what was between him and the girl. The Lt. was shaking her head as she made her way back to her post.
"Not to worry, Major Elric," she called over her shoulder, eyes sparkling in amusement, "I think you'll find most woman who are, are usually worth it," and he groaned as he turned away, feeling even more tired than before.
"Unfortunately," he grumbled to himself. Yet behind the frustration, anger and humiliation lay something else; something warm that seeped through him and let him forget for just a moment everything else but the worry he had seen in the shining blue eyes that had been just for him and he felt the little spark settle into his heart, warming him as he stumbled away to clean away the violence.
Ed
White.
Cold.
Bitter wind gnawed at any exposed skin and he shivered. The blank color swirled around him in an endless dance, freezing him.
Yet it was nothing to the desperation pounding in his chest.
He was looking for someone. Someone that had been taken away from him, stolen and every time he thought about never seeing this person again made his heart crumble just a little bit more.
Alone he trudged through the deep blanket, searching, breathless, calling…
"Roy!" yet his voice was borne away on the roaring voice of the storm, pulling at his slender body, tossing him about until he didn't know what way was up or down. He was good and lost, now, not even knowing the way back but unless he found what he was looking for, it meant the end either way.
He called again, hoping for some sign; he was here, the blond could feel it.
"Roy!!"
Then a barely visible shadow among the bright blanket of snow and he stumbled towards it, tripping again and again. His automail was like two useless hunks of frozen metal attached to his body, making him clumsy in his headlong rush. Soon there was snow in his mouth, nose, ears, trickling down the back of his shirt and packing into his boots. The shadow drew closer and closer until he stumbled to its side.
The white blanket had done its best trying to cover it up but desperate hands had it cleared away, revealing skin almost as white as the storm blazing around him and the deepest black that feel in damp, jagged strands over the strong forehead. Numb fingers searched along a frozen neck and the tears leaked from his eyes, turning to ice on his cheeks as he fumbled for a pulse.
There was none.
Roy was dead.
**
The darkness was almost blinding as the blond sat up in his bed, the claws of the nightmare still clinging to the back of his eyelids and his scream lingered in the heavy air of the bedroom, hanging like a blanket, a thick afterthought echoing around and around in his eardrums. The sheets were like an anchor and he gripped them as his heart pounded in the back of his throat, the taste of bile heavy on his tongue. It was the sobs, though, seeping from his chest and running down over his face in salty streams that was the worst of all. The blond was always affected by his nightmares but he had never cried, not since he was twelve. Now he sat ensconced in a bed that was not the one he wanted to be in, images of white swirling over black still like a curtain over his vision, so he kept seeing it over and over. And that feeling, like a vise around his chest cavity, closing around his aching heart until he couldn't breathe, rasping breaths accompanying the sound of his tears, filling the lonely room until he was sure he was drowning.
Then he couldn't take it anymore and he was out of his bed and into the hallway in the span of a heartbeat, flying through the darkness to the door behind which he slept, the only one who could banish the images from behind his eyes and ease the anguish that was flooding his body with jittery shadows. Without regard, he slammed into the Colonel's bedroom, making the man startle awake before he launched himself into the older man's bed. The comforter was warm as he burrowed under it but not as warm as Roy, who was half sitting, blinking through the darkness in confusion as the blond latched onto him, curling his slighter body into the older man's.
"Ed?" the Colonel's deep voice was still sticky with sleep, the sudden waking making him slightly incoherent but Ed couldn't answer because he was still crying, the aftershocks of the dream still clinging to the back of his eyelids in ghostly shreds, making him shake, "Edward, are you alright? What's wrong?" a big, warm hand settled into his loose hair at the nape of his neck, another strong arm curling around his waist and he clung onto the steady heat, telling himself it was just a dream; just a dream and this was real, right here, in his arms. He had wrapped himself around the bigger man's torso, head buried in a broad shoulder, arms and legs circling a strong chest and narrow waist. And all he could do was cling there, waiting for the tears to ebb so he might form a coherent sentence. A steady heartbeat thrummed against his own shoulder and his mind chided him, see, this is real, but he was still shaking, the grief still too strong, thick in the back of his throat. The hand in his hair was stroking him, easing his fear, a soft voice murmuring in his ear like the silken fall of dark water, breath washing over him, burning sweet and real, oh so real, see, this is real.
"Please…" his voice sounded broken as he shuddered into the heat of a strong shoulder, "Please, don't leave me, don't go anywhere…don't leave…" the hand in his hair stilled as he clung, finally managing to get his tears under control so that he was no longer soaking the Colonel's night shirt. Then he was being eased onto his back, Roy still holding him tightly, keeping him pressed into a steady heat. He was glad because he wasn't ready to let go.
"I'm not going to leave you, Ed," the silken voice breathed into his ear, lips brushing the shell and he sniffed inelegantly, breathing in the scent of gunpowder and musk, the smell that belonged to Roy and it was all around him, holding him safe, on this side of reality where nightmares couldn't touch him, "I will never leave you," but he had seen it, felt the fear, the ache, until he was sure he would die. He sucked in a scorching breath, keeping his face hidden in the older man's shirt.
"You were dead," he grated and started shaking all over again, clutching the bigger man pitifully in the surge of fear as the memory of the dream clutched at him again. A great, black beast with gleaming teeth and too many eyes threatening to pull him under so he would drown in freezing, lonely waters, all by himself, haunted by the blank gaze of dark, onyx eyes. Then the warm hands were there, grabbing hold and pulling him back to the surface, up and down his back, in his hair, over his arms and again the steady heat began to creep back, battling back the cold treadles of despair.
"…shh, Ed, I'm right here. You were just dreaming…" he shivered, the man's words beginning to permeate the veil of fear still hanging over him like a thick residue of slimy terror. Gradually, he relaxed, the hands on his body and the heat he was pressed into calming him by gradual degrees until he was able to sink into the embrace. Time had become irrelevant as those hands seeped warmth back into his body and he was able to ease his grip on the dark haired man without feeling like he was going to slip away, like the nightmare would become real. Suddenly feeling bad for waking the Colonel, he lifted his head, sucking in cool air.
"Sorry," he breathed into the darkness, out of which he could make out the pale curve of a sharp cheekbone and sleek jaw line, "That one was a little too real," he wanted to laugh it off but tears still clung to his cheeks and thickened his already raspy voice which still shook slightly. The arm around his waist tightened, pulling his hips tight against Roy's and fingers tilted his chin back so he could look up into a shadowed face of the man laying over him.
"Edward," the smooth voice was stern, laced with iron, catching his attention, "I'm never going to leave you," and more heat trickled into his chest so that he was able to smile shakily, arms tightening around the pale neck, the last of the dream turning into misty nothingness, wafting away.
"Yeah, I know," he breathed and huffed a surprised breath when Roy was suddenly laying full length over him, bigger body pressing him into the mattress. The steady warmth became something more, a pulse of desire snaking through him, fizzling along his veins as he tried to make out the dark gaze of the older man who was staring into his face, supporting himself over the smaller alchemist on his elbows. All the blond could see were glittering shadows. There was a long moment where they stayed like that, warm breath ghosting sweetly over his face and heat beginning to suffuse his features as he became more and more aware of the position they were in, making him immensely glad for the darkness. Finally, Roy broke the moment by leaning down and brushing his lips over Ed's left cheek.
"Good," then the lips were on his, soft and slick and hot, into which he breathed a soft sigh. The kiss was gentle, easy, slow, a soft touch of the older man's mouth on his more reassuring than anything else. For a moment he forgot why he had come in the room in the first place or that Roy lying on top of him as he was felt really good. He just concentrated on keeping his lips in contact with the older man's, breathing in the Colonel's breath, moving his mouth as Roy did. Everything about it was unhurried, even when they broke apart, leaving him completely relaxed, fingers looped into thick, dark hair. His bright eyes flickered open, though he couldn't remember closing them, taking in the sharp, pale planes of the older man's face. Never in his life had he felt so content or safe, nightmare just a dark figment of his imagination.
That changed with the next kiss.
Something altered the easy dynamic between the two of them and he wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was when he tilted his head back just a little bit so he might see Roy's face better or when he caught the glittering dark gaze and breathed the man's name, a small smile tugging on his full lips. Or maybe it was when he shifted his weight on the mattress, starting to get overwhelmed with the heat radiating from the bigger man. Whatever it was, the dark eyes flashed, so hot that he saw it clearly even in the darkness and the firm lips were devouring his, sucking a startled gasp from his throat.
It was much like the one Roy had given him that morning on the kitchen floor only this one had the heat of a promise burning behind it, bright and scalding. Ed parted his lips under the sudden onslaught, closing his eyes tight against the fierce passion that was no doubt bruising his mouth as their teeth clicked together. Neither one of them cared very much as the older man had slipped his silken tongue into the blonde's mouth and was exploring every inch he could reach, leaving the younger alchemist feeling weak and giddy. A soft noise slipped from him, a whisper in the thick darkness, a mere thread of a sound but once again it was changing the kiss, the touches.
Ah, the touches. Those hands slipping from their secure hold in his long hair and around his waist to draw warm fingertips over the sensitive skin of his neck, down his chest, catching in the folds of the t-shirt he wore. Breath became harder to catch, being snatched from his lungs by the hungry mouth covering his own. As the strong hands moved over his torso, moving down, lower the Colonel's slick tongue tangled with his own, drawing it out of his mouth and the feeling of the other wet appendage sliding along his own ignited a thrumming heat within him, black flames curling through him in great, sweeping waves.
They were both breathless when they pulled away, Ed's mouth feeling hot, the cloying flavor of the older man still heavy on his taste buds. The heat was coiling inside of him, pooling in his lower stomach and a familiar ache had him lengthening, hardening, trapped under the older man's hip. He might have been embarrassed but there was no running away from this, not this time because he wanted this so bad and it felt too good. Pale hands had found the hem of his shirt, tugging the material up so they might slide under, gliding across tawny skin which jumped and twitched under the soft touch. Dark eyes were watching him, watching his face and he held onto the broad shoulders, arching into the warmth of the dark palms teasing his skin.
"…Roy…" his voice was lost amid the blanketing darkness of the big room but the older man heard, leaning back down for another kiss, once more sinking into the blonde's mouth and Ed sucked on the man's tongue, another flash of desire spiking through him when Roy groaned against his lips. Then the steady weight was gone, shifting off of him and he might have protested but the hands that had just been stroking the ridged muscles of his abdomen were insistently trying to pull his shirt over his head and he quite agreed with them. He lifted his shoulders off the bed and was lost momentarily in blind folds of fabric before he was freed. It occurred to him then that while it wasn't the first time he was lacking most of his clothes in front of this man, it was the first time Roy was undressing him. For some reason it made a world of difference.
Anticipation was now pulsing through his veins as lips found the thin skin over his rapidly thudding pulse point, worrying it, soft kisses and licks easing the stinging pain. He tipped his head back on the pillow, hair spread all around him like a glittering halo even in the dull light, each touch shooting through him until he had no control of the small noises being worked from his lips. Fleeting touches of fingertips moved over his shoulders, chest, a long digit circling the dusky skin of one nipple. Then he couldn't catch his breath, moaning as teeth scraped over his clavicle before the hot lips found a spot just underneath to suck on. All the while the fire filtered through his body, leaving him clinging to dark bed sheets and broad shoulders.
And he was hard, his erection pressing painfully at the front of his boxers, the final destination for the dark flames that were scorching his insides, pooling in his lower belly, dark waters waiting, glittering with the promise of bright, shining stars.
The blond jerked and arched up when a tongue twirled around the pert nub of his nipple Roy had been teasing earlier, catching him off guard, gasping cry cut off in the middle as pleasure tingled through him. Fingers tugged gently on the other until the older man moved his lips, working his teeth gently over the neglected nub. Sobbing, strangled gasps filled the room as the younger alchemist tossed his head back, upper back lifting off the bed as Roy worked. One last nip and he was free so he could sink back once more, one hand pressed over his lips, his own breath warm and moist as it puffed over his skin.
Lips trailed down, lower as pale fingers teased the elastic waistline of his boxers, a wet trail following the line to his navel. Another gasp when a hot tongue dipped into it, licking and sucking the skin around the indent before sliding in, teasing the small dip and Ed tingled all over, erection straining painfully. There was no doubt Roy could see it, the hard bulge in his pants and he wanted nothing more for it to be touched, the desire stroked hotter, brighter until he couldn't think past the fire consuming him. Blood pounded loudly in his ears as the man continued to tease him, trailing his lips over the material clothing his hips to nip at the insides of his thighs, shying clear of the pulsing heat throbbing, aching. All he could do was fist his mismatched hands in the sheets, shaking with anticipation.
Ed's hips jerked when fingers brushed lightly over the material covering his needy member, eyes flying open at the rush of pleasure and he wanted more, more, so much that he was willing to beg for it, gasping broken pleas to the ceiling in hopes that the older man might comply. Instead Roy gently lifted one of his knees, the metal one, kissing a line over the scars where the automail met flesh and the blond groaned at the alien feeling, tossing his head.
"P-please…Oh, God…" words were difficult to form with the feeling of bright lava seeping through him, racing towards that one central point. If he had given it thought, he would have been embarrassed by his wanton behavior, unable to do much of anything but moan and beg, yet this was the first time he had ever been touched in such a way by someone else and it was so good and so easy to lose control, he could only concentrate on the black flame licking at him, the same color as the dark eyes watching him through the darkness, narrowed with lust. It sent the fire spiraling faster and he bucked his hips up again, a silent plea.
It seemed Roy was done teasing him. Fingers dipped under the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down his lean thighs and he gasped when cool air rushed over his throbbing erection as it sprang free, making him shudder. Through golden eyes reduced to slits he could see Roy leaning over him, breath coming fast, reaching out and brushing long fingers up the underside of the blonde's length, and Ed sucked in a sharp breath as the touch made him twitch, start to leak. One hand slid down the inside of his thigh as more fingers were added, stroking the silken skin of his aching cock. Then he couldn't watch anymore as the bright waves crashing in his ears and surging through his body had him incoherent, vision useless. The touches teased at first, almost shy, moving along his thick length, circling the base and running through the coarse, sun colored curls. Then the touch moved up, following the pulsing vein at the underside of his erection before curling up over the foreskin to roll over the sensitive tip, making the teen jerk, eyes squeezed shut as he cried out against his hand. Then the fingers left him momentarily as Roy leaned back up, eyes invisible, tugging the restraint against the blonde's lips away. Honey colored eyes cracked open, breath unsteady as a warm palm eased down his abdomen.
"I want to hear you," Roy whispered, kissing the younger alchemist gently as his hands continued to knead the soft skin over the jutting hip bones, working small patterns into the color of toffee, silken and sweet and his cock twitched at the words spoken in that deep, husky voice. Ed reached up one hand and tangled it in dark hair, deepening the contact of their mouths so his own tongue was darting into the hot cavern, the aching taste making his teeth spin. They were both laboring to draw a sufficient amount of air into their lungs by the time they parted. Golden eyes strained to find the onyx gaze in the heavy darkness, the burning heat of desire still thrumming steadily through him.
"…stop teasing," he breathed, dark hair tickling his wrist. Warm hands were nudging his knees apart, giving the bigger man room to settle between his thighs and he opened his mouth, about to ask…oh, fuck…
Warm heat enveloped the head of his erection, so good, a hand fisted at the base, applying pressure and he was lost in the raging sea of pleasure, every thought shattering to a million pieces and flying from his mind. There was a hand on the back of his thigh, holding his leg up on the Colonel's shoulder as a tongue swirled around the head of his member, dark hair brushing the sensitive skin of his stomach. Ed didn't even hear the little noises he was making, slipping past his constraints, both hands buried deep into the mattress to keep himself grounded.
That tongue was teasing his slit, dipping in, rolling around and he could feel the start of his release, leaking out around the slick appendage. Stars glittered at the edges of his vision, waiting to pull him under. The heat took him a little farther in before coming back up, then again, dropping down, all the while sucking and licking, stroking that fire higher, brighter, hotter so the pool at the base of his spine coiled ever tighter, threatening to snap. Roy's hand caught that of his milky pre-cum his mouth did not, spreading it as he began to stroke in time with the movement of his lips, his tongue and, oh!
"…hah…R-Roy, ngh…Ah!" There was a vibration around his cock as the older man moaned, sucking harder and he couldn't stop the motion of his hips as they rocked forward, trying to bury deeper into the delicious heat. The Colonel didn't stop him, just moving with the blond so he didn't choke, taking in more and more of the younger alchemist's thickening erection as he did. Toes curled into cool sheets, pleasure building steadily until the fire pressed into the back of his eyelids, threatening to spill over. Then teasing fingers were back, stroking a secret place just over his tightening balls, blunt nails brushing over the thin skin of the sac and he couldn't hold back anymore, the bright fire searing through him until he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, became nothing more than black flames, arching off the bed as he tried to scream.
"AH, FUCK! I'm…ROY!!!" it rolled over him, flattening him in the wake of the powerful surges tearing through his body, pulsing out of him in great, shattering waves until there was nothing left, leaving him empty, sated, broken on dark shores, black waters lapping at his ankles. Darkness wrapped in glittering stars glittered over his vision as he tried to suck air back into his aching lungs, laying sprawled over the dark sheets in the wake of his release. Vaguely he was aware of gentle hands pulling his boxers back into place, a gentle kiss pressed against one hip bone and he might have smiled but he was having a hard time distinguishing reality from the star littered fatigue settling into his bones.
"I'm never leaving you," a familiar voice whispered into his ear and he had enough strength to smile, turn over, finding the owner of the voice already curling around him, body heat warm against his cooling skin. He pressed his nose into a strong chest, barely able to wind a too-heavy metal arm around a trim waist and respond with a rasping,
"You better not," before slipping away, drowning in sated darkness of softly lapping waves and a comforting lack of dreams.
Roy
Beauty.
Edward had given it a new meaning that night, his golden light, bright taste and husky voice giving something to Roy he had never before thought possible. Never once did he think of himself, of his own pleasure, as was what tended to happen in sex. Sure, they hadn't gone the whole way but even so, he hadn't even thought of touching himself, to fulfill his own desire. And of course he had been hard. Painfully so. How could he not be with the golden, slender body twisting and writhing as he had been, the taste of Ed on his tongue, the hot pulse of the teen in his mouth? Yet it had been enough just to watch; watch how the faint light touched upon the drawn eyebrows and open, panting mouth as slender fingers clutched at the sheets. He had almost come when Edward did, the sight of the lithe body bowing as the teen released pulse after fiery pulse into his mouth but he felt that wouldn't have been right. So he just lapped up every drop of that bitter, pearly liquid and whispered a promise into the teen's ear. He had been fortunate enough to catch the smile as the blond turned towards him, fleeting, a mere curl of the corner of the sweet lips before Ed was gone, slipping away to foreign shores, hopefully dreaming of nothing at all.
And Roy carding his fingers through the loose hair, now tangled and dampened with sweat, praying desperately that he could keep his promise and never have to leave the side of this beautiful young man. As he too slipped back into peaceful slumber, his dreams only held softly swirling images of golden fire and a sword forged by the flame that was Edward Elric.
To be continued...
Yeah, hopefully faster than this one...I'll do my best!