Roy had been having a lot of embarrassing moments these past two months. He'd thought perhaps he'd be used to it by now, but no. He was embarrassed all the same.

But who wouldn't be, when they were too scared of their own mind to sleep?

He felt like a child, scared of the monster under the bed. Roy had many monsters living under his bed.

He pretended to be fine, ignoring the apprehension in his gut. He would've done an excellent job pretending, had Ed not been able to feel the way his stomach clenched with anxiety through the bond.

It had started soon after dinner, as the sun went down and the darkness meant he would soon have to face his monsters. He really, truly, did not want a repeat of last night.

Ed hadn't said anything, however, but Roy knew he knew. Roy kept pretending anyway, up until they got into bed.

Then he couldn't pretend anymore, because he couldn't sleep.

He was embarrassed. And ashamed.

Negative emotions were squeezing his chest, self-deprecating thoughts swirling in his mind. He was pathetic. He was a coward. He deserved all of this torture his brain and the bond wanted to inflict on him, and yet he couldn't even take it like—

Ed touched him. He was curled up on his side, head almost on his shoulder. His hand had lifted, gently touching his face. "Stop overthinking."

Roy exhaled harshly. He rubbed a hand down his face, his eyes focused on the darkness of the ceiling. "I'm sorry."

He felt Ed squirm closer, trying to fit himself in his arms, but the self hatred wasn't letting him allow it, it wasn't letting him feel worthy of the comfort Ed wanted to give him.

He was keeping Ed up. Awake. He'd seen how tired Ed had been today, and yet he wasn't blaming Roy, wasn't angry at him for it. But Roy knew he held the power here, even though he felt utterly powerless; it was up to him if they slept every night.

Ed stopped moving. "Don't pull away."

Roy blinked in the darkness. It was then that he realised Ed was basically wrapped around his arm, and Roy hadn't moved to let him into his arms.

He untangled his arm from Ed's grasp and lifted it, letting Ed squirm into his side and rest his cheek on his chest. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Ed didn't reply, and Roy thought he was waiting for them to fall asleep, but he felt wide awake. The guilt slithered into his stomach again like a snake, squeezing until he could barely breathe. Ed was trapped here, trapped with Roy—

"This is where you got shot," Ed mumbled, and Roy frowned, angling his head to look at him. He was tracing his left pectoral with his fingertips. Where Heathcliff had shot him in Ishval.

"It is," Roy said, forcing his muscles to relax. "Though technically I didn't get shot." No, the bullet had hit his pocket watch in what had been an incredible stroke of luck, and had undoubtedly saved his life.

Ed was quiet for a second, lost in his thoughts. Roy was tempted to ask him what he was thinking when he said, "You would've died."

"Probably."

Ed squirmed in his arms to look up at him. Roy caught his gaze in the moonlit room. "It would've hit a lung or your heart. You would've died."

Roy tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. If this was an attempt to get him to a dreamless sleep, it wasn't working. "A lot of things would've changed if I'd died that day." He took a deep breath, taking a moment to ponder that outcome. "Perhaps not as many people would've died."

The hand on his chest clenched into a fist as Ed's eyes hardened. "More people would've died. So many more."

Roy pursed his lips, not entirely convinced of that. If he'd been taken out of the equation early maybe the Ishvalans would've had even the slimmest chance of winning, or at least of limiting the destruction to their town and their people.

Ed shook his head, lifting himself up to look Roy in the eye. "You've saved so many more people than you've killed." The resolve in his voice took him aback; he was so sure of Roy's goodness, it was…incredible. "Without you, the homunculi would've done it—Father would've fucking won, there would be no Amestris if you weren't here. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

His breath was stuck in his throat as he stared up at Ed's face, hard with resolve and so sure about the truth in his words. For a moment, the intensity of his belief made Roy believe it for himself.

Ed put his hand over Roy's heart. Roy was sure he could feel it pounding beneath his palm. "I'm so fucking glad you didn't die that day," he whispered, and there was something in his voice, so much raw emotion at the sheer thought of Roy dying that made his heart squeeze in his chest.

"The Rockbells patched me up that day," he found himself saying. "They made sure there was no deeper damage."

Ed swallowed, his expression shifting to something he couldn't quite read. "You met them."

"Briefly," he mumbled. He tried smiling, but it felt more like a grimace. "I had one hell of a bruise."

He could've sworn Ed's eyes were glassy, shining silver in the moonlight. He lowered himself back down, nestling his face into his neck. Roy held him tightly; it was all he could do.

Minutes passed in silence, and sleep had yet to claim them. His conversation with Ed was replaying itself in his mind like a broken record; Heathcliff shooting him, the Rockbells' hazy faces, Ed's resolve about his goodness, Ed's fear at the thought of his death.

He sighed. "I should take a sleeping pill."

He went to twist around to reach for his bedside cabinet, when Ed's hold on him tightened. He paused, looking over at him.

"I don't like pills."

"Me neither, but they get the job done."

Ed pursed his lips, still holding him down. He seemed to be debating whether to let him go or not. "Let's go for a walk," he said, and Roy looked at him incredulously. It was almost midnight. "Late night walks always chill me out when I can't sleep."

Roy sighed but wasn't in the mood to argue. He had no faith whatsoever that a walk would relax him enough to sleep tonight, but he'd give Ed the benefit of the doubt. If it didn't work, he would take the sleeping pill.

Ed didn't wait for his agreement; he rolled out of bed and threw on his sweatpants, and then casually opened a drawer and grabbed one of Roy's t-shirts.

He threw one on the bed for him, and Roy sat up to grab it.

He hoped the streets were empty at this time.

The streets were indeed empty.

Roy hadn't been out this late in a long while, and probably never just for a walk. They weren't near any bars; in fact, they actively avoided going in the direction of the nightlife.
He'd give it to Ed, there was something freeing about this. The cool summer breeze was soothing in a way nothing else was, the silence of the usually busy streets making him feel more grounded, like the world had stopped for a little while. Like he wasn't being watched, like he had a moment to himself in a space that usually demanded he perform in some way.

He could see why Ed liked this.

"Me and Al used to walk late all the time," Ed said casually, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. It was slightly odd seeing him in Roy's leisurewear out in public. "Back when he couldn't sleep, I mean. Used to keep him company sometimes."

Roy took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs and relaxing him. He wasn't entirely sure it was making him sleepy, however. If anything, it had slightly invigorated him, made him feel more alert. "I thought walking helped when you couldn't sleep."

Ed shrugged. "That too." He steered them to the left, down a usually bustling street of Central. "I love walking at night, feels like the whole world is yours for a moment." He grinned at him. "It's just us."

Roy hummed in acknowledgement. "Sometimes you think you're alone when you're not. Particularly dangerous." Which was why he had his gloves in the pocket of his sweatpants. Just in case. It was bizarre enough that if he got attacked right now he'd have to fight in sweatpants and a t-shirt; he never left the house like this.

Ed snorted. "You're paranoid, aren't you?"

Perhaps a little bit…"It's not paranoia, it's being aware and prepared." At Ed's unimpressed stare, he added, "It's not like I don't believe we're alone right now."

Ed stopped walking, and Roy paused, looking over his shoulder at him. "Okay," Ed said, a challenging smirk gracing his lips. "Then kiss me."

Roy blinked. Then narrowed his eyes. The little shit; he knew exactly what he was doing. "We are in public, Edward."

Ed made a show of looking around. "I don't see any public right now." He raised his eyebrows. "Thought you believed we were alone, Mr Not Paranoid?"

Roy turned to face him, his eyes meeting that teasing golden gaze. You never know who's watching—it was on the tip of his tongue, but if he said it he'd just prove Ed right. He was paranoid, a little bit. But who wouldn't be, when they'd lived the life he had?

It was a miracle he hadn't had an assassination attempt yet.

"When you're Fuhrer you'll get even more paranoid." Ed came closer, until his chest was only a couple inches away from his own, until all Roy had to do was tilt his head just so and lean forward.

"How so?" Roy asked.

Ed's lips curled into a teasing smirk, his eyes sparkling. "Knowing you, you'll fret about assassination attempts." He reached out, loosely grabbing Roy's shirt. "But don't worry, I'll protect you."

Roy raised his eyebrows. "I believe I'm quite capable of protecting myself."

Ed's smirk widened, but his eyes were fond. He wouldn't be mad if Roy didn't kiss him, he realised. Ed was aware that he probably wouldn't risk it, that he was paranoid, and accepted it. Perhaps he wasn't even expecting Roy to kiss him and was merely teasing, which somehow made it even worse.

Because the thought of him not even being able to give Ed this, something as small as a kiss in an empty street, the only light being the street lights lining the pavement next to them, made him feel like a whole new level of scum. He didn't deserve Ed, but he would deserve him even less if he refused something so small.

So he leaned forward, capturing Ed's lips in a gentle peck. When he pulled back, Ed's teasing expression was gone, replaced by wide eyes and slightly parted lips. No, Ed hadn't been expecting him to do it.

Ed swallowed. "Kiss me like you mean it, bastard." His voice was almost a whisper, as though this had surprised him enough to take his breath away.

The feel of Ed's skin against his own lingered on his lips, longing for more, so he couldn't resist going in for seconds. His left arm wrapped around Ed's waist, pulling him flush against him as his right hand cradled the back of his head, fingers threading through the hair at his nape.

Ed made a small sound of surprise, hands fisting in his shirt as Roy kissed him, pouring every drop of need and admiration he felt into the way his lips brushed against Ed's, into the way his tongue caressed his. Ed pulled him even closer, and arousal sparked inside him, burning suddenly and intensely, igniting a need that demanded it be fulfilled immediately.

Roy broke the kiss, his heart pounding in his ears, his blood roaring through his veins. "Did that feel like I meant it?"

Ed was panting, eyes glazed. "Yeah," he said absently, licking his lips. Then he breathed, "Fuck you're a good kisser," as though he hadn't meant to say it out loud. Roy smirked despite himself and released him.

Ed belatedly realised what he'd said, and his cheeks darkened. He thrust his hands back into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned back around. "Let's go back."

Roy followed next to him, smiling in pure primal satisfaction. No, he wasn't feeling tired at all. He was feeling more energised than he had all day, and his brain was giving him very clear images of what exactly he could do with this new energy.

His body was responding to those images, and when they reached his house a few minutes later, the anticipation inside him was ready to burst.

He could feel Ed's arousal through the bond matching his own, and the moment the door was shut behind them Ed all but pounced on him.

Roy's back hit the door the same moment Ed's lips crushed his, his hands fisting in his t-shirt and pushing him against the door until he could go no further, until Ed's body was flush against his and he could feel the hardness of every muscle.

Perhaps this was to distract him, tire him out even, but even so, how could Roy resist this?

His hands groped whatever bit of skin they could find. Ed was too dressed, he decided. In a single movement Ed's shirt was over his head, and then Roy's, both thrown carelessly on the floor by the front door.

He all but ripped Ed's sweatpants off him, and then his boxers, until he was naked in front of him, until his hands could finally touch every inch of his skin. They groped and squeezed as his tongue clashed with Ed's, his hands fumbling with the last pieces of Roy's clothing.

Fuck, it had been too long. Why had it been this long? It felt like everything was right once again, everything had slotted into place. This was where he belonged. This was where Ed belonged.

Ed made him feel alive.

In one swift movement Roy had twisted them around, until it was Ed that was pinned against the door, his cock against Ed's as he rolled his hips, grinding against him, his hands squeezing his ass hard enough to leave red marks.

"Has anyone else ever touched you like this?" It was out before he could stop it, a breathless growl, before he even realised that was where his brain had been going. The thought of someone else touching him so possessively ignited a fire inside him so destructive, so violent—no one would make Ed feel as good as Roy made him feel, he'd make sure of that, he'd—

Ed flushed, panting as he scowled. "Does it matter?"

Yes. No. Yes. Yes. He pushed Ed further against the door, his nails digging in to his skin—mine mine mine. "Tell me."

Ed averted his gaze, flushing bright red as he shook his head. What did that mean—No he hadn't, or no he wouldn't say? Roy's heart was pounding in his ears, in his veins. "Ed."

Ed glared at him. "Just you, bastard."

His hot breath mingled with his own as his lips brushed against Ed's, as he took Ed's bottom lip between his teeth and bit, hard. "Not even a woman?" He had to make sure, he had to know—

"Especially not a woman," Ed growled, and a spike of embarrassed anger flared through the bond, but those words made Roy feel elated, light, and so fucking turned on he had claimed Ed's lips before Ed could even breathe in anger.

Ed growled against his lips, nails digging into his back. Harder, Roy wanted to tell him. Until he left red crescent marks, until he scratched deep enough to feel tomorrow.

God, they wouldn't make it upstairs. He needed him now—

He'd flipped Ed around as Ed let out a grunt of surprise, his cheek and chest now pressed against the door, Roy's hands around his wrists. His cock was rubbing between his asscheeks, so close, so near, so—

"If you don't stop me I'm going to fuck you against this door," he panted in warning, because his control was an unravelling thread, so close to snapping, but Ed could stop him, he could make sure Roy was contained, that he was—

Ed smirked, his eyes pure fire. "Do it, I can take it."

His whole body throbbed at those words, at the fact that Ed wanted this, that he thought this was a challenge—and one he was more than willing to partake in. Roy took a deep breath, his hands squeezed Ed's wrists, pushing closer—God, the friction was incredible, mind numbing, torturous in the best way possible. "I can't promise you'll be able to walk tomorrow." Ed needed to stop him, he wasn't thinking straight, but he couldn't stop—

Ed chuckled, a sound so deep and intimate and hot. He pushed his ass against Roy's cock and Roy's vision nearly left him completely. "Shut up and fuck me."

The thread snapped, and Roy's mind blanked completely as he wet his fingers with saliva and thrust them inside Ed—one, two, three. Ed grunted but his grin never left, urging Roy on until he was nothing but an animal, feral in a way he never was.

He smeared the precum down his shaft and lined himself up—and thrust, painfully slowly, inside Ed. His hands grabbed his wrists again and he groaned, loudly, desperately, Ed's breaths laboured and heavy as he took every inch.

Ed's body was hot and tight and perfect, wrapping around his cock like he was made for this—made for Roy to slide into and take for himself. As though he was his—completely, utterly, his.

Ed moaned and shivered as Roy buried himself to the hilt, one hand gripping Ed's thigh and lifting his leg so he could get further, deeper. A thin layer of sweat gleamed on Ed's brow, and Roy's whole body was slick with it, but he was inside Ed once again and his brain had no other thoughts but this.

He rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis against Ed's ass as he thrust as deep as he could, his breaths a gasp of sheer pleasure, until Ed's body adjusted and he picked up the pace, Ed's chest banging against the door with every thrust.

"Fuck, Ed," he gasped, his nails digging into Ed's thigh. His other hand let go of his wrist and gripped his hip, angling his thrusts until he hit the spot that had Ed moaning louder with every thrust.

He became so easily lost in Ed, where nothing else mattered but the blond God in his arms, who made everything else seem so trivial.

He leaned forward and bit Ed's shoulder—his right one, where the sensitive scar adorned his skin. Ed's moan was higher in pitch, and he trembled in Roy's arms, but he took every hard thrust so perfectly.

"You're doing so well, Ed," he panted in his ear, the hand on his hip sliding forward, wrapping around his hard, weeping cock. Ed bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, his hands curling into fists against the door.

Roy pumped his cock with every thrust, until every breath of Ed's was a breathless moan, until he started saying incoherent things that sounded encouraging, begging, needy, desperate.

He would never be able to resist this again. He'd have Ed for as long as Ed would have him. He'd give himself that. Until Ed got bored of him, until the travel bug inside of him started making him squirm again, until his priorities changed and all he wanted to do was spread his wings and experience the world for what it was and not for the evil he had seen so far. Roy would give Ed whatever he wanted, he'd give him anything, everything, because Ed deserved everything he wanted. It was pure luck that, in the process, Roy was also getting this much, this utter perfection.

And he was greedily taking it, revelling in it, committing it all to memory. He wasn't naive enough to think he would have it forever, no. Ed was young, gorgeous, and an Elric; and Elrics couldn't sit still for too long, couldn't stay caged in the house, simply supporting someone else's goal. Ed was a force of nature, he would be secondary to no one and nothing. But for now, he was Roy's.

No one else would have him like this, nobody.

He grabbed Ed and angled him to the small table by the door, where his keys haphazardly rested. Ed grabbed it, leaned over it and braced himself as Roy pounded into him, his hands having a death grip on his hip and his shoulder. His cock was leaking inside Ed as the pleasure built, and it made the glide slicker with every thrust.

"Fuck," Ed whispered, grunting with every thrust, his back muscles taut, tensed—and he was taking it so well, spreading his legs and arching his back to allow better access. It was the most perfect view Roy had ever had.

"You're mine, Edward," he breathed—he was panting, so the words came out breathlessly, almost like a plea instead of an irrefutable statement.

"Yeah," Ed whispered, gasping at a hard thrust against his prostate. "Don't stop."

Roy wasn't planning on stopping. Not now, not ever. He'd do this forever if he could. No one could see them here, no one would know that he was indulging in this—this that was regarded as so wrong for so many reasons and yet felt so right.

Fucking Edward Elric hadn't been on his list of things to do, but damn if it wasn't the best thing he'd ever done.

He rolled his hips the way Ed liked, grinding against him, fucking him deep, making sure he hit his prostate every time—because he knew what Ed liked, now. They'd done this enough times for him to know the little tells, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to know everything and it felt like they were on borrowed time. Nothing but forever seemed enough.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting harder, faster, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling his ears.

Ed's moan was loud, deep, raspy. Roy grabbed his cock again, noticing his hands were shaking. He was shaking, and sweaty, and utterly breathless, but how could he not be, when he had the most perfect person underneath him?

"I'm yours," Ed rasped, completely unashamed, completely lost to the pleasure Roy was giving him.

Ed was rock hard. He didn't think he could get any harder than this as Roy pumped, feeling his cock twitch and throb with each stroke. Ed's moans had risen in pitch, utterly broken sounds of pure need. Roy was so close, so close to giving in to the pleasure he knew would knock his entire world off its axis, pleasure that he knew he would never be able to do without ever again.

Ed shattered, his moans becoming incoherent pleas as the orgasm ripped through him, as Roy kept thrusting, kept stroking, until Ed rested his forehead on the table and gripped its edges until his knuckles were white.

He was sheer perfection.

Roy grabbed his hips with both hands and thrust, hard, fast, chasing the orgasm that was so close—he was teetering on the edge of the cliff and one push would throw him over. His vision blurred as he groaned, closing his eyes as he lost himself in Ed.

The orgasm took his breath and vision away, his ears ringing as he moaned—and it must've been loud, but it all seemed far away, the pleasure ripping through his entire body and burning—God, it burned through him, sparks making him tingle and tremble.

It was over in seconds that had felt like eons, and he folded over Ed, panting, completely breathless and lost for words—his brain was mush, and he didn't think it could string a sentence together even if he tried.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice sounding so foreign to his ears, so utterly breathless.

Ed chuckled, turning to look at him over his shoulder. "I'm definitely not gonna be able to walk tomorrow."

The lustful haze was slowly ebbing away, leaving his mind clearer. He swallowed, thoughts flooding back into his previously empty brain. He shouldn't have done this, he should've taken his time, made sure Ed was sufficiently prepared and ready. He could've hurt him. "Why didn't you stop me?" He rested his forehead on Ed's sweaty back, still trying to catch his breath.

Ed chuckled again, starting to rise from the table, and Roy held him, helped him, slipping out of him in the process. "I didn't want you to stop," he said simply—and he was smiling at him, his eyes gleaming with a teasing fondness and a touch of amusement.

Roy tried to find any regret, any hint that he was hiding pain, but couldn't. He asked anyway. "Are you okay? In pain? Did I hurt you?"

Ed shook his head, his smile widening. He planted his hands on Roy's shoulders, staring at him in the eye, and Roy must be so completely gone, because he wanted to lean in and kiss him again. "Stop overthinking, I'm fine." Then he bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle another smile. "You should fuck me in random places more often."

Roy's heart pounded, his now-functioning brain giving him so many dangerous ideas.

Ed's palms trailed from his shoulders down his chest, his lips twitching into a truly devilish smirk that was so damn sexy—and Roy could feel his cock getting ready for round two.

He was in so much trouble.