Beta: Mcarnality (Bestest beta reader ever!)

Warning: BoyXBoy

((So I realized that I'd been calling Russell, Trevor for some reason. If you caught that, I'm sorry. It has been fixed and I've made a note not to call Russell; Trevor.))

Chapter 11: Death, where is thy sting.

(Roy P O V)

"—Roy, Maes is dead…" Riza's voice echoed over the phone line.

Her words sounded like rushing water flowing into my ear canal. Everything was muffled with a pressure building in my temples. It was impossible to comprehend properly.

"I-I-I…" My words were failing me rapidly… My heart was in my throat with my world pivoting on its axis. I tried holding back the flood-gate of emotion whipping through me. I swallowed at the first rush of sickening fear.

-"Roy… S-say something…" her voice cracked.

My throat was stuck with emotion. I couldn't even begin to try talking around the growing lump. Maes is dead… Three words; three trifling word whirled around my mind like a twisted carousel-ride. My best-friend dead… Dead…

I felt my breath hitch as I stared off into the white walls of my hotel room. It couldn't be true… how could it be…

"Roy…Roy…are you still there?" Riza spoke frantically. The tone was enough to draw me out of the hole I was trying desperately to bury myself deep inside.

I tried swallowing again. The hardening lump in my windpipe only grew despite my resistance.

"Y-yes," I cleared my voice in another attempt to stop the bubble of grief from boiling over into my tone.

I didn't want to break down in front of anyone. Not even Riza. I needed to get off the phone; I was starting to have trouble breathing. The saliva glands in my mouth were working overtime, and I felt like I was going to be physically ill.

My next words were spoken in a monotone voice – devoid of all sense of feeling. "Thank you, Riza…for letting me know…" I paused to take a steadying breath. I pulled the receiver away from my mouth and licked at my suddenly dry lips. My eyes were closed as I continued to speak. "I'll…call you later." With that, I ended the call and pressed the phone into the palm of my hand.

I don't know how long I sat there on the edge of my bed. My eyes saw nothing as my mind whirled with thoughts. Simply living, breathing, was harder. But Maes will never have that life again. My stomach twisted at the thought and I pushed the hard plastic phone awkwardly against my forehead for a distraction.

The pain in my chest stretched, seeking further entrance into the center of my heart.

Maes is dead… the words repeated again… It couldn't be true… My head heavy with grief fell into the palms of my hands with the cellphone tumbling silently from my fingers, forgotten onto the white sheets of the bed. I bent forwards until my elbows rested on my knees and my hands skimmed my cheeks. They came back wet from tears.

This is when I realized I was actually crying.

I hadn't allowed myself to shed a single tear in years –not since my father had kicked me out of the house as a teenager- and yet I couldn't bring myself to stop the wet flow from escaping the brim of my lashes.

With the unexpected onslaught of emotions battling inside of me, I stood up abruptly, and before I knew what was happening, my fist was colliding with the hotel room wall. Over and over I struck it until my hand fit through a rugged hole, and my knuckles were left bloodied.

I slid down the wall as a wretched cry fell past my lips…

How could this have happened…? The same question repeated through my mind…

How?

Maes Hughes, born October 21, 1980.

He was man of many colors in life. A man of honor with an infectious charismatic behavior. The beloved son. The caring husband. A father of an innocent little girl. A friend to so many…

But most importantly a Major class agent of the intelligence bureau of the Amestrian military.

Maes Hughes was many things in life. If not something important to everyone he touched in some way.

He will surely be missed.

I sat on the floor my hotel room for a very long time. My knuckles swollen and bleeding and clutched in my uninjured hand.

A numbing presence had taken over the hole gouged-out in my chest. I felt as if I was having an out-of-body experience, watching my crumbling form while I floated overhead.

My spine ached from the position I was in, slouched over against the uncomfortable wall. I couldn't find an ounce of care… everything felt… diluted… thinned in comparison to when I had walked into my hotel room. My world had twisted in a matter of seconds. I had lost someone so dear to me. It still didn't feel real.

My phone chirped on the bed in front of me, the vibration echoing through the quiet room.

Lifting a stiff neck, I looked towards my cell, which chirped again. I rolled forward onto tingling legs and snatched…

The battery was running low again, but that wasn't the reason the cellphone had announced its presence. I had two voicemails that were left unnoticed during the chaotic mess. My stomach dropped as I realized who they were from.

Augusts 16th Friday- 11:20 pm Maes Hughes

Augusts 17th Saturday at 6:45 am. Gracias Hughes.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat.

Clicked the button to bring up my voicemail and played the first message.

"Message received on Friday, Augusts 16th at 11.20 pm." The female robotic voice paused and then there was a sharp beep. "Hey buddy!" Maes's voice rung out happily into my ear. I felt a wave of warmth spreading through my chest at hearing his voice. "Why aren't you answering…? I know, I bet you're chasing straights again, aren't you? You sly little bugger you…" I could clearly hear the smile – you always could with him – "Well anyways, I wanted to ask you something important, so when you get this, give me a call!"

I would never know what he wanted to tell me. My eyes were burning again, a sign the tears were about to brim over. "Oh by the way…" Maes's voice added quickly… "You haven't seen the newest pictures of Elissa yet… Oh Roy, she is the cutest little thing ever… I love her so much; it's like she could be a child model. Don't you agree? Well of course you agree, who wouldn't? My little Elissa is just that cute…" The voice mail went on talking about Elissa, and I couldn't bring myself to listen any more. My throat felt tight with every passing word from the message. I moved the phone away from my ear as Maes's cheerful voice continued to ramble on. The trail of tears escaped my eyes as I ended the message and my hotel room became eerily quiet again.

"Hughes…" I spoke in a whisper as my finger brushed over the photo on my cellphone screen of Maes and myself standing with our arms around one another with giant smiles plastered on both our faces. It was a picture that always popped up when he called me.

I wiped the tear leaking down my cheek and sniffled as I brought the phone back to my ear and listened to the next message "Message received on Saturday, Augusts 17th at 6:45 A.M." The phone beeped and Gracia's tear-stricken voice cut in. "Roy… Oh god Roy… There has been an accident…P-please call me as soon as you get this…" there was a paused "I don't think Maes is going to make it…" The line went dead, and the robotic female voice told me that there were no more new messages.

It wasn't fair. All of it. It wasn't. Maes was a good person; he didn't deserve to die. He had a family, a wife who loved him. A daughter who worshiped him. It all wasn't fair. Before I could think better of it, I chucked the phone across the room in an abrupt rage.

It hit the opposite wall with a loud 'thud' as gravity brought it to the floor.

I pulled my knees to my chest uncharacteristically and rested my head on top of them. My arm circled my legs as I drew within myself. The quiet sobs racked through my body as I failed to grasp the concept that something this bad could happen to someone so thoroughly fucking good.

Maes was an amazing person, none of this was fair to happen. None of it.

At some point I scraped myself off the floor and drug myself into the shower. I tried my best not to think about everything… but one though kept circling within me as the water pelted me from above.

What had Maes wanted to tell me…?

After my shower, I broke into the mini-bar, and when I had drunk the last drop of liquor from there, I got out my expensive scotch from behind the bar in my hotel suit. I drank until the world blurred from my effort. My pain was swallowed with the burning alcohol poured down my throat. I knew I was still crying silently, a few stray tears chased away by the back of my hand.

There was a knock at my door, but I ignored it. Couldn't they tell I was in grieving here…?

I guess not, because the knocking persisted.

After a few more rapid beats that clearly meant the person was not going to fucking go away, I decided to stand and answer the bloody door.

I grumbled the entire way there… my hand holding onto the walls as leverage as the world tipped sideways "Fuckin' door… fucking feet… fuck everything…"

Unlocking the door took a lot more time than intended... "Too many damn locks," my hazy mind grumbled. In reality my fingers just couldn't find the leverage to undue the blasted locks.

Finally getting the door undone, I whipped it open fiercely.

A cheerful hotel employee stood in the bright hallway, his shiny red coat and gold trimmed pants glimmering from the overhead lights. "Hello sir, did you order room service?"

I was leaning heavily against the door; it helped me stand on wobbly legs. I swayed where I stood. "N-n-no…" I said with Heavily-lidded eyes as I swallowed a large amount of saliva building in my mouth.

The look of confusion passed over the man's face, "I'm sorry but I think you are mistaken sir… it says Room 203…"

"I didn't 'rder anything…" I slurred and swayed on the spot.

"But sir…"

"B-but nothing… I did-n't order any-thing." I spoke with an unpliant mouth before I moved away from the door and let it slam in the Bellhop's face.

I moved further into the room and landed face first on the white, king-sized bed. Almost instantaneously I was asleep, drawn into an alcohol-induced dream.

When I awoke some time later, there was a loud knocking on my door -again- and a severe pounding in my head to follow. I grumbled and tucked my head further into the pillow. The knocking protested.

With another bout of annoyed complaining, I pushed up off the bed and made my way towards the door.

It better not be the hotel staff trying to force room service on me... I thought as I stumbled my way over. My hand held my pounding head as I spoke loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door would hear me and leave the hell alone.

"I already said I didn't order room service… So will you, for-the-love-of-all-that-is-holy. Go. Away."

There was a pause and I thought I had scared them off with my rudeness.

"Roy…" a familiar gruff voice spoke through the door. I nearly felt my heart jump out of my skin at who it was. "It's me, Edward Elric. We met at my brother's..."

Edward…? I thought as I moved back towards the door and was opening it so fast I believed I had taken it off the hinges.

And there he stood, a sight for sore eyes. It was the man I thought I would never see again, and I couldn't be more excited that he was actually here.

I don't know how but the small tug of his mouth lit his entire face warmly as he brought a six-pack up to eye-level. "I've come baring gifts…"

I watched the dimples in his cheeks – which I didn't know he had – break loose, and my grey mood lifted slightly on the edges. This man was something else entirely. His cheeks were red from the chill outside; his hair – obviously still wet from the shower he must have just taken before coming over here – was braided haphazardly down his neck. He wore the exact sore of outfit I'd seen him in yesterday, casual yet somehow entirely still sexy.

I realized in that moment that, I had made a huge mistake leaving his key under the mat and walking away…

Wait. Was it possible that that was the reason he was here? To get his key back. I quickly pondered as I felt my newly gained hope draining from my body.

"I don't have your key…" I spoke in a matter-of-fact tone with a slight edge of ice.

Edward's head cocked slightly towards the side at my abrupt omission. "You don't?"

"No, I left it under your mat as I left your apartment." I said looking towards the ground.

"Ok-ay,"

This is where you leave… I thought.

But Edward didn't move from his spot.

Instead he asked, "Are you going to invite me in?"

I lifted my head, looking up towards the blonde's questioning gaze. He still wants to… I was confused… Edward didn't take it as an insult like I had brushed him off or something? Because that's what had happen…

The words left my mouth before I had a chance to reel them back in. I'm blaming the remaining alcohol in my system. "You're not mad?"

A snort left Edwards mouth, "Why would I be?"

Good question…

"I-I-I…" I shook my head at my stupidity. "No particular reason."

I moved out from the door's archway and ushered him inside the dark hotel room.

I still didn't quite grasp as to why Edward was here, but I couldn't help my greedy side from feeling grateful at having someone so near.

Entering past me, Edward's shoulder dusted my chest as he strolled into the open room. A whiff of clean laundry blew up into my senses as he moved on by. I followed after him, watching him set the beer down on the small table to his left.

I flipped the light switch on and it brightened the darkened room. My hands found their way into the fronts of my pockets. I leaned against the wall as I watched the blonde strip of his red coat and toss it on the back of one of the formal chairs.

My eyes followed the length of the other man's arms. His black long-sleeved shirt may have covered his flesh from my eyes, but I could still see the faint outlined definition hidden beneath. I took notice of Edward's hands, which were bare without his gloves. Too my knowledge, which was oddly strange. He normally covered his automail from sight. He must have been on a rush out the door and forgotten them, my mind wheeled from this information.

Our eyes touched at a distant and I was really beginning to wonder why he was here. I voiced my thoughts aloud, optimism coated my words. "What brings you here, Edward?"

My gaze never wavered from his. Edward's, on the other hand, darted quickly away from mine to study the door at my back with fine concentration. His blonde eye-brows drew together, as he rubbed along the base of his neck with his metal limb.

The moment stretched out like taffy candy between us, slow and sweet as molasses… I watched Edward's Adam-apple bob with anticipation. This is when I realized Edward was nervous about something, an apprehension forming from somewhere I couldn't quite pin down.

Edward scoffed out a snort of a laugh as his arm fell away from his neck… "No particular reason." My own words parroted back to me.

We smiled, and the moment was over.

I was beginning to get a headache. Bloody liquor… I did my best to ignore the sprouting bud of annoyance. I tried a smile, but it only came out like a lack luster smirk. I knew this because Edward looked towards me with concern swirling within his eyes. But then again, I could just be imagining things because I was still a tad drunk…

"Roy, is everything alright?"

I guess not…

Sighing, I moved away from the wall I'd been leaning on. I really didn't want to discuss the fact 'if I was' or 'if I wasn't, alright'. Obviously: I wasn't… But Edward didn't have to know that.

"I'm fine," I said in a solid tone but my feet were the ones who betrayed me. Taking a step down into the room, I somehow tangled and I started to fall. I should have been able to catch myself. It had been such a simple stumble in my steps, but my ankle twisted at an awkward angle. A burning pain rushed up my leg and, before I knew it, I was falling onto my knees, hard and loud. I reached down my leg as I dropped the rest of the way to the floor instinctively. The curses were falling from my mouth, my fingers prodding my sock foot for damage. It was already starting to swell.

I jumped at the feeling of another person touching me. My chin tilted up, and Edward was kneeling down next to me.

"Did you hurt yourself?" His hot flesh palm landed on my shoulder, the warmth bleeding through the thin white shirt I was wearing. A shudder whispered down my spine. All thoughts of my hurt ankle flew out the window as I looked up towards his pretty face. My eyes traced the curve of his finely shaped mouth. I felt my breath hitch as I realized how close Edward was to me. A hair's breathe, I could see the details of his pale lashes framing his yellow, yellow eyes.

I exhaled harshly through my nose –it sounded painful even to my own ears-.

Stating I was fine – again – I hastily looked away. Edward would have no part in my reluctance, though. His other hand, the one not touching my shoulder, bravely grazed my jaw, turning my face back towards his.

The question as to why Edward was here kept resounding through my mind like a church bell ringing for mass. Loud and clear. My mouth opened and the question came tumbling out.

"Edward, why are you here?"

The boy cringed noticeably before letting go of my cheek, his gaze filled with clouds of guilt, and he looked away, sighing heavily. My eyes followed the motion of his hand as it fell into his lap. This is when I took notice of his injury. His knuckles looked as if they had gone through a cheese-grater and back, raw and bruised.

"What happened to your hand?" I asked, reaching for his wound. I caught hold of his palm, and Edward allowed me to turn his hand to where I could see clearly. His eye must have caught sight of my bruised knuckles, because he took the chance to try to deflect my question with his own.

"I could ask you the same thing…" He retorted back.

It may have been an innocent jest but when I looked down towards my wounded hand a great sadness swelled in my insides. I frowned, eyeing my injury before raising my eyes to the wall I had punched through earlier. Maes…I thought. The signs of tears pricked along my lashes and yet I somehow managed a small smile through the painful memory. "I guess you could," I quipped informally, letting my eyes drop from the hole back to Edward's worried face. His brow was furrowed slightly at my reply.

My mouth was suddenly dry. I quickly licked at my bottom lip, trying to draw moister back into it. Edward's eyes followed the motion. I took notice that the apples of his cheeks were dusted pink as were the tops of his ears. He was embarrassed; it was cute.

"W-well anytime you're in need of the truth, I'm your man." Edward grumbled, sarcastically taking his hand back from mine.

A wicked spiral of heat danced down my spine at Edward's words. The hidden innuendo was blatantly standing in my line of sight.

I knew the other man hadn't meant it quite like the way I heard it. Your man? Was he my man? I couldn't let such a great opportunity pass by. A sinful thought it was, but none the less a pleasant distraction from the reality of pain I was feeling.

I leaned a little closer as I spoke, "-are you, now?" My vagueness was intended to confuse and I waited patiently to see if the boy took the bait.

Edwards's bright, golden eyes narrowed.

"Wh-what are you on about?" he all but hissed out with the first trails of agitation beginning to take hold of his tone.

"Are you my man, Edward?" I questioned with a sharply attuned vibrato rumbling my words.

Edward's sharp inhale was his answer to my question, as he realized what I was on about. He rocked backwards on the balls of his feet and abruptly stood, his whole face going red in the process.

I couldn't help but think he was beautiful like this. His anger swelling was like an ocean's tide, rising viciously out of nowhere and completely consuming the surroundings.

Even as he paced away, I could still see the other man's pulse beating away in his neck. His wrath was visible for anyone to see.

He was earth shattering beautiful and I took pleasure in knowing I'd caused this type of reaction.

I continued to watch him, his hands sliding through the loose strands of golden bangs till they were up and out of his face. His feet traced steps into the hotel carpet, shoulders squared in his anger. This is when I noticed I was hard in my trousers. Hot and heavy all because Edward was incredibly sexy when he was mad.

Before I knew what was happening, Edward was stomping back towards me, eyes burning with an acute wrath that made my dick throb with want. I thought hastily, Edward probably wasn't the type of guy I wanted to start a fight with, him being a cop and all…But then again, I wasn't the type to run from one either.

I tried to stand, but my ankle would have no part in it. I stumbled and steadied myself on the bed. Edward was suddenly there before me and I braced myself for a punch, a kick, a slap, something...

What I hadn't been expecting was for fingers to twine into the front of my shirt and for me to be pushed backwards onto the bed. Feeling the other man's lithe body climb on top of me, I gasped aloud as Edward's mouth bit into my own. His slick tongue with a peppermint after-taste, slid and lashed alongside my own before I could fully comprehend anything. Instincts kicked in, and I immediately responded to the boy's touches.

It wasn't a nice kiss, no head-tilting romantic sweetness about it. It was almost fanatic, savage in the way our teeth kept colliding, our tongues fighting for dominance. The boy's mouth was almost overwhelmingly greedy, biting and licking at my bottom lip with no reserve. I knew by morning my lips would be bruised. I couldn't find a care, not with the blonde's hot mouth sucking along my tongue with sweet revenge. It was brutal and glorious all at the same time.

I could still feel Edward's hold on my shirt – balled up in his fist – stretching the thin fabric and dragging the damaged collar down to expose my pale throat.

His mouth let go of mine with a wet sound following. In the next moment, the air was leaving my lungs as I felt Edward's teeth sinking down in the hollow junction of my throat. The mixture of pain and pleasure melded together, and I couldn't help subconsciously rolling my hips upwards in search of friction against the warm body above me.

All at once, Edward froze with the contact of our pricks slotting together. He was panting as he hovered over me in a subdued state, but he didn't make a move to try to get away. We lied there on the bed, my grip still on his jean-clad thighs as he straddled my hips in the most provocative of ways.

We stared at one another, long enough for me to realize Edward wasn't going to move. I sighed through my nose and closed my eyes. Fuck, I'd scared him off, I thought before reopening them to see Edward's hazy golden eyes watching my face. I did the only thing I could, the most selfless thing a man could do with a raging boner in the middle of being ravaged.

"We can stop?" I whispered.

"I-I'm… I'm not gay, or anything…" Edward bit back hastily, letting go of my shirt and closing his eyes...

His words left an anchor sinking in my stomach. He began again, "I-I've just… I've never-had-these-types-of-feelings-for-another-man-before." It was spoken quickly, the words bleeding together, but I got the gist of what Edward was trying to say.

My brow gathered and smoothed out in a quick flick of emotion. "It is called bisexuality, Edward, not a form of rocket science." The smile could be heard in my voice. "It can strike at any age," I added for good measure.

Edward opened his eyes to glare down at me, "I know what it's called… You don't have to explain." He started to climb off me annoyed and red in the face. I panicked and palmed at his back side, my crafty fingers pulling him down till I could feel his erection against my own again. A sharp inhale of breath escaped the blonde's pink mouth, his eyes going wide at the sensation.

I pushed up onto my elbows, bringing him further onto my lap and started sucking at his exposed stretch of neck. Working my lips up to Edward's ear, I whisper hotly, "Should we let your pride stop us from our mutual fun?"

I could feel the tension building in Edward's body as my mouth continued to work the shell of his ears with tiny nips and licks. He wanted to press back into my touch; I could feel the hesitation racketing through him. "Should I stop, Edward?"

There was a slight pause in his answer as if he was really thinking about it. I took it upon myself to continue swirling my tongue around the lobe of his ear.

"N-n-no." He gasped. "Don't stop. Just— I don't know if I'll…" Edward took a moment to swallow another moan, as my tongue continued its wicked assault. I didn't know if he had noticed, but his hips were working small circles on my lap, grinding his sweet little backside across my hardened length. "— I might have, -Fucking hell Roy- another crisis..."

My mouth released his ear, and I spoke directly into his wet orifice. "Don't worry, I'll help you through it." My mouth moved back up as I brought our lips back together in a tender, open-mouth kiss that left Edward's hand threading through my dark hair trying to deepen our connection.

The boy's touch was driving me mad, slowly but surely. Hands – one warm and the other cold – slid down my neck, cupping the back of my skull. Fingers worked the muscles underneath while hips made tight, tempting circles. My veins were flooded with fire. Fuck, I wanted more. I let my fingers slip beneath the hem of his black shirt, my palm landing on the soft quivering skin of Edward's stomach. I traced the fine hair there as I tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "Take this off."

And he did, knocking my hands away and straightening up, pulling the shirt off seamlessly. His eyes dance with uncertainty as I take him in: a defined chest and cold, lifeless mechanical arm.

He is... fucking beautiful, and I let him know this with a whisper of a word breaking the silence, "beautiful."

His blonde brow furrowed agitatedly. "Don't say that, you make me sound like a girl."

I found myself sitting upwards, and gripping Edward's chin to make him look at me, "You are far more beautiful than any mere woman, Edward." My thumb slid over the hot apple of his cheek. "–far more tempting than any other man as well… It would be good for you, to remember this."

-Edward-

My cheeks were hot; I could feel them burning. Not only from embarrassment, I realized dizzyingly, but from arousal as well. Roy's words washed over me in white tingles of pleasure. His hands were slipping lower on my chest, disappearing into the thatch of blonde hair on my stomach leading between my legs.

It was actually really fucking different being with a man, I thought with my blood rushing out of my head and down into my pants. There's not a single plane of Roy's body that could deny being male, and I knew at least now that I wanted this.

Roy's arm went around my narrow waist, dragging me further onto the hardness in his lap. I could feel his twitching clothed member dancing under my ass. My breathing was picking up, as Roy's other hand came around to circle my hip, the electric feeling of skin on skin, holding me steady as Roy pushed his hip forward again.

I knew that move; I have done that move enough times in my life to know it, but never once had I been on the receiving end of it.

That move is called, 'feel how hard I am for you.' I have to admit…I'm more impressed with Roy's demonstration. So fucking impressed I moan aloud when Roy rolled his hips and showed me in this instance, it could actually be called, 'feel how hard we're making each other.'

Roy suddenly flipped our positions, me ending up on my back with my leg in the air. "Oh fuck…" I said stupidly.

Roy merely laughed and pushed his lips against mine with something of our earlier desperation. He got one hand between our chests so he could feel up the wall of my abs and pecs. I never knew this particular sort of anatomy could feel so good when touched with a calloused hand of a man, but it did and I was blind with wanting more.

When he pulled back this time, I looked upwards at Roy, and he has the unfocused expression guys can get when they're really mind-numbingly hard – sort of tender and dimwitted and heated all at once. "Edward— touch me. Please."

There was a sound of desperation in his tone, something I could recognize in the feeling of butterflies flapping in my stomach. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, my fist curling alongside my body in irritation. I tried again…"I-I-I…" I swallowed a lump in my throat, "y-you want me to s-suck y-you?" I asked, shaking myself a little to get out of my own tender-dimwitted trance.

Roy huffed a humorless laugh, his hands drifting from my chest to the top button of my jeans. I could feel the movement between our bodies.

"You haven't thought about it?" He questioned with curiosity coursing through his black eyes. "I thought…" He swallowed, "I thought you must have, the way you came at me tonight."

"Huh? I came at you?" I repeated back with a break in my voice.

Roy nodded, and a sly smile broke across his mouth. "I thought you had," the hands holding my hips started to retreat. "If I was mistaken, I can just-"

"Wait!"

Roy paused in his movement as I weighed the pros and cons of giving another man fellatio. Fuck! Fuck… god-damnit… do I even know how…? I questioned myself, which was not something I should have been deliberating at all, but fucking hell, I was.

I opened my eyes – I didn't realize I'd closed them – and Roy was staring down at me. I turned my head into the scratchy sheet, my cheeks and neck burning at my thoughts. "I-I don't know how…" I admitted in an all but a whisper. I've never been known for being bashful or timid but with the heated look Roy was throwing my way, I couldn't look straight into his eyes.

Was this how I looked at women, I thought but instantly revoked it because I was comparing myself to a woman.

Roy's smile was genuine as he moved to position himself between my legs, sitting on his haunches. "Tell you what…" He said as his fingers worked the button and zipper open on my pants. My pulse suddenly leapt and thudded in my hard, aching cock.

"I'll do you first…"

Roy reached into the opening of my pants with crafty fingers and pulled me out into the open air. He quickly stroked my cock with a loose fist, up and down, slow and soft. My eyes fell shut, and my head dropped back, because no, I hadn't really thought about it, going down on Roy.

"And you'll watch me and learn…" Roy spoke in a purr, and now I was thinking about it, thinking about taking Roy's fat cock into my mouth, licking the skin of his shaft until he was wet enough to take him down my throat.

My eyes snapped back open, and watched Roy's mouth part, sliding me into the slick, wet heat.

"Oh fuck." My hands at my side pressed crescent moon shapes into my palms, while I fought to keep my eyes open at the pleasure. A sure and hot mouth, his tongue smacking along the underside and then slipping down and then back up. Pointed and clever in his lashings, playing that little sensitive spot that girls never seem to pay notice too.

Roy pulled off suddenly. My eyes blinked rapidly as I struggled to understand why he was stopping. A tight whine echoed between us, and when I realized I was the one making it, I stopped myself immediately. Roy smiled shiny lips and worked me with a loose fist again, but this time with wet strokes. Another moan escaped my lips. Roy grinned wider at the sound, "Are you learning anything… Edward?"

I nodded my head stupidly, because the sight of Roy between my legs was as good as I'd remembered.

A truly appreciative look on Roy's face passed before he was back to kneeling and sucking me down further then from before.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The tight hug of Roy's throat wrapped around my dick felt entirely too good. It felt…like a sweet torture of release.

I wanted it to last, but honestly, it was too fucking arousing to watch my length disappear past Roy's swollen lips. And Roy…well Roy seemed to be enjoying himself. The sounds of contentment rumbling from his chest on every downward slide were enough of a confirmation. But of course that meant it was over sooner than I'd expected. One second Roy was bobbing up and down, sucking and licking, and the next, I'm tearing my fingers through dark hair as a warning. Roy only backs off slightly. I realized quickly...I was going to come inside his mouth, with those lips stretched around my cock. And then, I was doing just that, hot white fluid pouring down Roy's throat.

"Oh-fuck, Roy!"

Roy came off licking at his wet lips, his dark eyes still glazed over with a spark of desire. It was both terrifying and arousing all at the same time. It left my head spinning in the wrong direction.

"Well Mr. Elric," Roy spoke, voice sounding even deeper than before. He moved to sit up while removing his shirt in one clean go. The silver, military dog tags slapped noisily against his chest. My eyes followed the motion and continued down as Roy popped the top button of his pants lewdly.

"—let's see what you've learned."

Next time: Roy gets a phone call from Gracia Hughes, more information on Maes death, and Roy packs to leave for his home town.

Oh Death, because of a man who was, who is, and who will be.
where is your sting? Or sorrow where is your victory?
For death can rule no soul.
So into the great beyond, go with courage dear sister, go with courage.

-Woodrow Lucas

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