WARNING: This chapter contains a sex scene of sorts. HOWEVER, I strongly advise you read it, considering this is absolutely essential to the plot. You are not going to understand anything else if you don't read this chapter. If you really don't want to read this, PM me and I will tell you what happens in a very general, completely PG way.

"I just can't believe I have to let you two stay in my house," Roy sighed, unlocking his front door.

Edward was, for once, subdued. Partly because he was tired, partly because having the man you have a tendency to lust after be so put out about being around you was depressing. "Look, I already said I was sorry. Multiple times. And I actually mean it, too."

When Roy turned back at him, his tone was softer. Good. "Yeah, I know. And it was just as much my fault as yours, so…"

Grinning now, Ed retorted, "Wow, owning up to our responsibilities, eh? Mustang's growing up, Al."

Alphonse groaned. "Brother, if you keep talking like that, you're going to end up blowing up the Colonel's house. And then you'll really be in deep shit."

The trio walked through the doorway into a living room. Roy didn't even pause, leading them down the hall. He opened a door, gesturing them inside. "The guest room. You guys can share a bed for one night, and I'll get another tomorrow...there's no telling how long you'll be here."

And with that, he waved, heading into the room across the hall, presumably his bedroom.

Edward walked in. "Well, it's clean, at least," he commented, gingerly sitting down on the white bed.

"Don't be so sarcastic, Brother," Al chastised, lying down next to him. "It could be a lot worse."

"True," Ed admitted, yawning. "Let's get some sleep. I have to write that report tomorrow…"

Edward groaned, opening his eyes slowly. He hated when this happened…a quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just past three in the morning. Three in the fucking morning. And he was awake, just because he had to pee.

Stupid bladder.

He got up carefully, not wanting to disturb Alphonse. Now…where was the bathroom?

Just down the hall. Right.

It took him ages to get there, stumbling around in a sleep-filled daze. He winced every time his automail struck the floor wrong, hoping it wouldn't disturb anyone…just because he had to be up, didn't mean he was enough of an ass to want everyone else to suffer as well.

Finally he made it. Finishing up, Ed tiptoed back down the hall, and that could have been that…if he didn't hear a deep moan come from the door to Roy's bedroom, ever so slightly ajar.

Edward's wildly overactive, hormone-driven imagination kicked into overdrive. This was too perfect, if this was what he thought it was…oh, he just had to see what was happening…

Slowly, whisper-quiet, he pushed open the door a little further…a little further…another moan, another push, and Ed could see the man. Lying on his bed, blankets askew, clad only in boxers. Boxers that were distinctly, delightfully tented.

Fucking hell, he was right; Roy was having a wet dream.

As the man moaned again, Edward bit back his own sounds, his pants tightening suddenly. This was too much. You couldn't ask him not to watch...it wasn't like Roy would ever know.

Ed let his hand trail down his front, into his own boxers, grasping himself firmly. He bit his lip, trying to keep quiet—it wouldn't do to wake the man up.

He continued to pump, faster and faster as Roy's noises increased in frequency. And maybe Edward just craved trouble tonight…but he was struck with a desire to see Roy, and nothing could change his mind.

Removing his hand, Ed slipped into the man's room, eyes locked into his nether regions. He'd never been so careful, so nervous…so excited before. It only took one light pull to dislodge Roy's boxers, and…

"Ohh." Edward clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized he had let out the quiet moan, but a quick glance to Roy's face told him no harm had been done. Reassured, he lowered himself to the ground, pulling his own shorts down and kneeling so that the man's (admittedly massive) erection was just in front of his face…

It wasn't long before he began to crave that thing that he didn't think was normal, not that he gave a damn. He wanted something inside him…Ed sighed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. In that instant, Roy bucked, letting out one last moan, coming all over his own stomach.

Edward didn't even think about it; it was instinct. Roy was still asleep, and he had to. He dipped his fingers in the still-warm wetness, far preferring to use that as lubrication. And without any further ado, he pushed his two fingers inside himself, whimpering ever so quietly at the feeling.

As he began to move, one hand in him and the other around him, Ed did what he always did: fantasized about Roy. Roy touching him, Roy kissing him, licking him, loving him…Roy inside him…

With a soft cry, Edward came, splattering the floor. Removing his fingers, he slumped sideways, panting heavily. Masturbating always made him tired, something about that all-over satisfaction, and add that to the long night he'd had…Ed was barely able to keep his eyes open.

After a minute of recuperation, he managed to stand. Just in time, he remembered Roy's boxers. With a quick tug, Edward had pulled them back up and into position. He surveyed the room once more, considering…no, he wasn't going to clean up. Why would Roy ever suspect it had been him? Granted, it could only be him or Al…but even if the man figured it out, he'd think Ed had done it to be an ass, not because he was actually hot for him.

No problem there.

Edward stumbled across the hall, and into the guest bed, falling onto it. Alphonse huffed lightly in his sleep, but Ed was so far past caring at that point he barely noticed. He was totally, completely blissed out, and happy as hell about that fact.

He allowed his eyelids to slide shut, a satisfied smile on his face…

Roy woke up feeling relieved, and the vague stickiness in his lower regions told him why. Whatever. Honestly, was there anything better than a wet dream? You get to wake up feeling refreshed, and you don't even have to stimulate yourself…perfect.

He sat up, stretching, and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Roy's foot came down on something cold and wet…he lifted it, confused, only to see a sizeable amount of jizz clinging to the underside of his foot. Grimacing in distaste, he grabbed a tissue from his bedside table and wiped the stuff off.

Only then did Roy wonder…he looked down; yes, he was still wearing his boxers.

So how the hell had he managed to get it all over the floor…?

Too tired to care, Roy shrugged it off. After all, you never could tell what had happened in your sleep.