When Roy opened his eyes, he realised he was lying on grass. It tickled his skin by his neck and forearms—his exposed skin.

The sky was a clear, bright blue. No clouds in the sky. The sun was beating down on him, its warmth slowly burning his skin.

Roy blinked, lifting himself up to a seated position. In front of him was a small river, the water clear and glistening from the sun.

Where was he?

He looked around, to his right, noticing a woman in a purple dress hanging laundry outside her house in the distance. He frowned, his eyes moving to his left—

"Ed?"

Ed was staring at him in surprise, blinking in what Roy thought was bewilderment.

It struck him then, where they were.

Resembool.

But how? Was he dreaming? Was Ed dreaming? This was no memory of his; he and Ed had never lain on the grass in Resembool together by a river. If it had been next to the Rockbell house then maybe, but this? Roy didn't even recognise this bit of Resembool.

He exhaled, absently lifting a hand to his brow to shield his eyes. He could feel the sun scorching him, but he was also certain that he was dreaming.

A gleam caught his eye; the golden thread around his wrist, glittering in the sun. How bizarre. The thread wasn't usually responsive to their environment; it was just there, able to penetrate walls, and doors, and anything else in its way.

But Roy could've sworn it was shining against the sun's rays.

"I can touch it," Ed breathed, and Roy turned to him again, watching as he held the thread around his wrist as though it was a tangible thing.

Roy blinked, noticing how calm he felt. There was no panic here, just calm, just…peace.

"We're dreaming," Roy said, even though he was sure Ed had already figured it out.

Ed let the golden thread fall from between his fingers. It was then that Roy realised he could feel it caressing his wrist.

Ed twisted his body to look around, giving their surroundings a proper sweep. He nodded. "And for some reason we're in Resembool." Then, he paused, looking to Roy's right.

Roy followed his gaze, watching the woman hanging the laundry.

He recognised that house…

"I guess it's me that's dreaming this time."

He said it with such sadness that Roy looked back at him, taking in the sorrow and longing in his eyes as he stared at the woman.

And Roy knew, then, that no other woman would make Ed gaze at her like that.

This was Trisha Elric.

Roy gave himself a moment to take her in, see how Ed saw her, how she moved, how she was. But they couldn't dwell on it; they had important things to figure out, and despite the utter calm that was wrapped around him like a loving hug, his analytical mind was still functioning.

"Ed," he said, but Ed's eyes didn't move from her. "Is this a memory of yours? Why are we so far away from her?"

Ed shrugged, and averted his gaze as though looking any longer would be agony. He rubbed at his face. "I don't know."

"You need to wake up."

Ed sighed and flopped back down on the grass.

Roy nudged him. "Ed. Wake up."

Ed grumbled something and rubbed at his face again, yawning. "Leave me alone."

"Ed—"

Why did he have such a horrific alarm?

Its shrill sound wouldn't stop, and it was pounding in his ears. He wanted to reach over and shut it up but he realised he was on the wrong side of the bed.

And his arms were wrapped around Ed.

Ed squirmed in his arms, bleary golden eyes blinking up at him. His cheek had a red imprint on it from the way he'd been lying. Roy might've laughed had his head not been pounding to the sound of the stupid alarm.

"I hate your alarm," Ed grumbled, but made no move to turn it off. Instead, he shuffled further into Roy's warmth, sighing in contentment.

Roy bit back a smile. "It's on your side." Even as he said it, his arms curled around Ed's body tighter.

Ed grunted, but wriggled an arm free and knocked the alarm to the floor, successfully shattering its back. The silence was blissful.

He sighed again, nuzzling back into Roy. "That's better."

Roy couldn't stop the chuckle this time. Ed was most definitely still half asleep. "I forgot to turn it off," he mumbled against Ed's blond head. "It's Sunday."

Ed was silent, long enough that Roy would've thought, under normal circumstances, that he had fallen back asleep. But he knew better.

He shifted again, Roy having to uncurl his arms from around him just a bit to allow for the movement. Ed ran his fingers over his right wrist, tucked between their bodies. "I could touch it," he mumbled.

The dream. Another curveball thrown to them by the bond. Roy couldn't find it in himself to muster any sort of emotion about it. He was so content lying here with Ed in his arms.

He rested his cheek on Ed's head as he thought about it, his hair tickling his cheek.

If it had been a memory of Ed's, then Roy had simply been present during it, like Ed had been with him in Ishval. But if it wasn't a memory, then what was it?

"What was that?" he asked, and Ed sighed, shrugging one shoulder.

"I used to lie by that river all the time as a kid and watch mum hang laundry. Me, Al and Winry used to play in that river in summer."

So Roy had been present for a memory, then. The question was: why? Why did the bond make them dream the things they did? All their dreams so far had been memories; there had been nothing wicked that their mind had conjured up like Roy had, on occasion, worried about.

This was a side effect of the array, a price they were paying for having their souls bound to each other. And while Ed had finally understood the workings of the array, the dreams were still a mystery. Why did they dream the things they did? How was Ed able to be with him in Ishval, seemingly perfectly aware of where he was, what he was saying? And now Roy had been in Resembool, watching Trisha Elric like he was there himself.

There must be some sort of pattern, or at least a reason for it. Ed's theory of Roy dreaming more often due to some sort of repression—that the bond may be forcing him to face his demons—had made sense, and he'd accepted it as fact. But that still didn't explain the weird changes in the type of dreams they had, the weird alterations the bond sometimes made.

The soul bond had never made a physical appearance in their dreams before. Or had it, that time in Ishval with Ed? Maybe, in his panic, he hadn't realised it had been there. But what about when Ed had appeared, suddenly, before the fake corpse of Maria Ross?

Did it even matter? Ed was going to create a reversal array, and none of this would matter anymore. They didn't need to know the bond's reasoning for the dreams, just like they didn't need to know why it hadn't broken when they'd finally given in to the pull they felt towards each other.

But he was curious, dammit.

"Voice your thoughts, goddammit."

Roy blinked, looking down at Ed's face. Ed was looking up at him, lips tilted downwards in exasperation. He realised he hadn't said anything in response to his last statement.

"I was just exploring the possibility of a pattern."

"Pattern?"

Roy explained his thought process to him, the little things about the dreams that he'd been noticing over the month and a half they'd been soul bonded for. "Something in the soul bond must be influencing the type of dreams we have, especially since the dreams themselves are part of the price we're paying for our souls…touching."

Ed hummed, but took a moment before he replied. Roy thought it was too early in the morning to be talking about this—he hadn't had coffee.

"I think they might be influenced by how close our souls are."

Roy frowned as he thought about it. Did Ed mean physically? But no, that wouldn't make much sense, since the majority of the time the physical distance between them had been the same; Roy in his bed and Ed on the mattress in the hall.

But perhaps their dreams were influenced by how he and Ed felt about each other—if they were on good terms or not. Maybe the energy of the soul bond was so volatile, and their souls wanted to merge so badly, that the dreams were a way for that energy to have a temper tantrum; the more strained his and Ed's relationship was, the more elaborate the dreams.

Was there a pattern there, or were they just making it all up from thin air?

"You know, you suck at thinking out loud."

Roy huffed. "I'm not used to sharing my ideas with others." It was the truth. Roy always planned alone and simply gave orders—moved his pawns on the board according to his scheme. He'd never really collaborated on ideas.

Ed made a small dismayed yet understanding sound. "Meanwhile I'm used to bouncing shit off Al my whole life." But then he sighed, and said, "What I mean is: the dreams, and all other side effects, would stop if our souls merged. So maybe the closer the souls are to that merge, the more mellow the side effects. Maybe we'd even be able to be further apart from each other physically, who knows."

While that made a lot of sense, it still didn't fully line up with the weird little things Roy had noticed. When they had fallen asleep next to each other on the grass in Resembool—when Ed had been with him in Ishval—Roy didn't think they'd been anywhere near a merge. And yet they'd felt so close in that dream; Ed being lucid in his dream felt like the most intimate thing that could happen while they were asleep.

"So you think it would depend on what our feelings for each other are at that point in time?"

He felt Ed shrug in his arms.

And then it occurred to him. When Ed had been in Ishval with him, they'd been sleeping next to each other. It had been the first time, really, that they'd fallen asleep so close to each other and dreamt. And then, when Ed had appeared before the fake corpse of Maria Ross, he had been across from him at the kitchen table, close enough to touch. And last night…he had been right here, in his arms. Ed being on the spare mattress wasn't a great deal of distance, but it was the maximum distance without them feeling a tug from the bond.

And while, in Resembool, they'd fallen asleep in the spare room, they hadn't dreamt for the simple fact that they'd already dreamt while snoozing on the grass. That was another thing he'd observed: it was always one dream per day. The only exception was that time they'd dreamt of the same interaction; those had been two dreams, in one night. But did it count as one, as it was the same interaction?

And what about the times they didn't dream at all? Was there a reason for that or was it just the way energy decided to release itself, influenced by his and Ed's emotions or thoughts?

This was making his head spin.

"Perhaps it's both physical closeness and our emotions that are influencing the dreams."

Ed yawned, and snuggled closer to him again, sighing in contentment. Roy tried to stifle a smile, but amusement still bloomed in his chest. He hadn't expected Ed to be so…cuddly.

He thanked the heavens that it was Sunday, and he could revel in this without needing to get up for work.

"Shut up," Ed muttered, eyes closed. Roy felt his breath against his chest as he spoke.

"I didn't say anything."

Ed let out a little growl at the same words he'd said just last night. "I can feel your amusement, prick."

"Is prick a level up from bastard or have I been demoted?"

Ed snorted and choked on a laugh. "Fucking idiot."

Roy couldn't stop the grin even if he tried. "You do find me funny, after all."

Ed heaved a sigh and ran an exasperated hand over this face. "You are the lamest person I have ever met."

"You wound me deeply, Edward," he purred, and Ed tensed at his tone, just as his hands caressed down his back, his touch teasing. "And here I am, full of compliments for you."

"Getting into bastard territory now," Ed warned, but Roy could feel the hotness of his face against his skin.

Roy chuckled, but didn't stop his caress, trailing his fingers over Ed's side and smirking at his squirm. "Ticklish, are we?"

"No."

Roy's smirk widened, fingers hovering over his side, ghosting over his skin.

"If you tickle me I will kick you so hard with my automail I will break bone."

Roy shouldn't have laughed at that. He really shouldn't have. His heart squeezed fondly as he gazed down at Ed, curled up in his arms, face against his chest and warming him from the inside out.

He felt calm. He felt peaceful. He felt happy.

He wanted this, and perhaps he was selfish enough to seize it.

"Alkahestry sucks."

Roy looked up from his paperwork as Ed huffed and leaned his cheek against his fist.

They had only gotten out of bed when Ed's stomach rumbled so loudly it had sounded like a demon, and Roy's lack of caffeine had made him unable to articulate anything other than bad jokes.

Food was probably the only thing that would've gotten Ed out of his bed today, and the thought left him with more primal satisfaction than it probably warranted.

Coffee and food consumed, they'd taken their respective places at the kitchen table, and got to work.

Not that Roy could concentrate. Perhaps having Ed on the couch had been good for his productivity. But having him opposite him at the kitchen table was good for his mood, despite him being the biggest distraction Roy had ever had to deal with.

"I can imagine it's confusing," Roy remarked absently, watching as Ed reached into his bag of candy and munched on a pink gummy, eyes still on his book.

He hadn't bothered to tie his hair back, and so it tumbled down his shoulders, framing his face so perfectly and complementing his eyes and the angles of his face—

"Knowing you, the moment this array is broken you'll claim all the credit when you're doing fuck all."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "I am enduring you; one could argue that is more taxing than hard physical labour."

Ed badly stifled a grin, reaching for his orange juice carton. "You're such an asshole."

Orange juice and gummies, a truly horrific combination.

Roy took a sip of his coffee. It was his third one today; a desperate attempt to focus on paperwork when all his brain wanted him to do was touch Ed.

Yes, he wanted to touch him very much.

"You must believe some heinous things about my character if you think I wouldn't give you credit for your work."

Ed's eyes flicked up from his book teasingly. "I've been pretty open about what I think about you."

Roy hummed, deciding to put his pen down. Potentially a mistake, because now there was the option to simply not pick it up again. "I believe I've been getting mixed signals."

Ed scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Were they flirting? They were flirting.

"Like what, bastard?"

Ed reached for another gummy, sucking on it absently, his tongue flicking out momentarily before he devoured it. Roy stared.

He cleared his throat, which had gone suspiciously dry. "You constantly insult me, for one."

Ed smirked and leaned back in his chair, which gave Roy a much better view of that toned chest of his, of those broad shoulders—Ed truly had stunning bone structure…"Someone's gotta keep that gigantic ego of yours in check. Can't have you thinking you're too hot."

"How could I ever be expected to figure out what you think of me when you insult me and compliment me in the same breath?"

Ed raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes sparkling in amusement. "What about that was a compliment?"

He reached for his orange juice once more, putting the straw between his lips and giving it a good suck—

He was being a pervert again.

He forced his wandering brain to work, even as Ed flicked that tongue of his back out, absently playing with the plastic. He never thought he'd be envious of a straw. "Simply alluding to my attractiveness is certainly high praise coming from you. I'm more used to the insults."

Ed clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His damned mouth— "Guess I'm gonna have to be more clear from now on, then."

His eyes were still on Ed's mouth. His neck was getting hot. "That would be helpful, definitely."

There was a dull throbbing in his groin, and he didn't need to look to know the state of himself.

Ed gave him that look again—that self-satisfied, smug look, which told Roy that Ed was also very aware of the state of him.

Perhaps Ed could seduce him after all.

"How about I start now?"

Roy could only watch as Ed stood, and with a predatory gleam in his eye stalked over to Roy's side of the table, standing right in front of him.

He could only stare, his heart pounding and his pants tightening, at Ed's naked torso, now at eye level. At the scar adorning his left side, his rock hard abs, the boxers hanging low on his hips, and the small trail of blond hair which started at his navel and vanished under the waistband…

God help him.

It was almost on autopilot that Roy reached out, grabbing Ed's hip and thrusting him forwards, onto his lap.

Ed let out a breathy chuckle as he straddled him, but Roy didn't care at the amusement flowing through the bond, had no thoughts about being embarrassed. Ed's hands rested on his shoulders, hot stamps on his bare skin, burning him in the best possible way.

His mind was unhelpfully reminding him of how it felt to be buried deep inside him, thrusting again and again and—

Ed was letting him have the upper hand, the control, and for some reason that just aroused him even more. The thought that, if he truly wanted, Ed could incapacitate him and have his way with him, and yet chose to let Roy manhandle him…

Ed was grinning, and there was nothing innocent about it. Their noses were almost touching as Ed squirmed closer, rubbing against his cock in a very intentional manner. "Still getting mixed signals?"

Roy licked his lips, his eyes on Ed's mouth. "I believe so. You may have to try a bit harder, I've been told I'm an idiot."

Ed's eyes sparkled in fond amusement, but he obliged, leaning in and capturing Roy's lips with such passion, as though they belonged to him. Roy realised that they did.

Roy leaned back in the chair, guiding Ed forward until their chests touched, and Ed could very easily grind his cock against Roy's.

His lips were soft, warm, familiar. Ed was familiar.

He tasted of sugar, but it was not the sugar that had Roy so addicted.

Roy nipped his bottom lip teasingly, and Ed growled—and then a hand was fisting in his hair as Ed kissed him deeper, tongue rubbing against his.

Nothing would be enough. Roy's hands wanted to be everywhere at once. They glided down his hard back, to his sides, to the waistband of his boxers, where they dipped inside unapologetically, desperate for skin to skin contact with his perfect ass.

It was then that Ed finally began grinding against him, and Roy could only grope and guide his pelvis against his own.

Ed's strong thighs on either side of him pinned him in place, the fist in his hair borderline painful, his other hand softly clawing at his shoulder. Their tongues clashed and swirled, and the soft moan that escaped him took a moment to register as his own.

Ed broke the kiss just enough to speak, his voice raspy and his mouth still against Roy's. "Got it now, bastard?"

It took a moment for Roy to remember what he was talking about. "I think I'm starting to realise."

Ed was panting, his breaths hitting Roy's lips, his eyes glazed with primal hunger as he gazed at him. "Do you trust me?"

Roy blinked, his mind stuttering to understand Ed's words. "Of course I do."

Ed studied him for a second longer, now running his fingers down his chest—which wasn't helping the mush that was Roy's brain in the slightest.

"I can keep secrets, you know."

Of course Roy knew that. To this day the general public had no idea The Hero of The People had performed human transmutation, that Alphonse had, at some point in time, merely been a soul trapped in armour.

The lustful fog in Roy's head cleared just the slightest bit, and he understood what Ed was saying. "Hiding something that happened in the past is easier than hiding something occurring in the present."

Ed licked his lips, his warm palms cupping Roy's cheeks. The gentleness of the gesture momentarily surprised him. "I wanna see you Fuhrer."

Roy's lips twitched upwards in an attempt at smirking, but his heart was pounding too hard and he was a bit too breathless. "You will." There was no other option and, gazing into Ed's eyes, he realised, so truly belatedly, that Ed understood.

Of course he understood. He didn't know why he'd ever thought any different. In that moment, it became so painfully clear. Of course Ed would understand—the need to be Fuhrer, the importance of making things right, that he couldn't give himself the option of failure. Ed understood that better than anyone.

Their noses touched as Ed leaned in, his eyes hooded with desire. His hand went back to his hair, fisting and tipping his head up. "And you'll be mine."

A scorching wave of heat flooded him at those words, words that sounded so ominous, so possessive, so dangerously threatening. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, the throbbing between his legs demanding, insistent. He palmed Ed's ass greedily, wanting, needing—

Roy wanted to be inside of him. Urgently. It was borderline terrifying, that urgency. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

His hand moved, slowly, and with one finger he circled Ed's entrance, letting him know exactly what he wanted. Ed's fist in his hair tightened as a shiver went through him, and he licked his lips. His eyes were piercing.

Roy was pretty sure he was panting, but Ed had stolen all his attention and there was none left for basic awareness over his own body. Ed's pupils dilated further as they maintained eye contact, Roy's finger teasing the sensitive skin. It took him a second to realise Ed's hips were moving, grinding against his finger and willing it to—

Roy pushed his finger in, just slightly, and Ed's hot breath left him in a gasp, warming his face. Ed's hips rose and he pushed against his finger, urging it further, until Roy was easily thrusting it in and out, his eyes on Ed's the entire time—

"More," Ed growled, the sound so intimate, so low and guttural. Roy's body burned at the sound.

Roy started pushing a second finger in, but he was so tight, and they didn't have lube here, and if he hurt him—

Ed groaned, grinding his hips against Roy's hand, his eyelids dipping, his eyelashes long and black and perfect. His grip on Roy's hair should've been painful, but Roy couldn't feel pain, everything was pleasurable, everything Ed did to him was—

He pushed the second finger in all the way, but Ed grit his teeth, hissing—and Roy froze, panting as a small wave of panic went through him. Had he—

"Ed, I don't want to hurt you."

Ed licked his lips, glazed golden eyes looking at him with such need Roy knew he would do whatever he wished in that moment. "Bedroom. Now."

Roy didn't need to be told twice.

He hoisted Ed up in one smooth motion, momentarily surprising himself that he had the strength to do that. He kept one hand around his waist and the other on his asscheek as Ed's legs wrapped around his waist.

Ed let out a little snort of amusement, and then his teeth started assaulting Roy's neck as he carried him up the stairs and to his bedroom. Roy should really be getting a medal for managing to remain upright through Ed's ministrations.

He all but threw Ed on the mattress. In a flash, he was leaning over him, claiming his lips like a man starved, as though Roy could own his too, if only temporarily.

Ed clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin—harshly, demandingly, as though he was only barely reigning in the beast inside him.

Roy broke the kiss only long enough to undress them both, to rid them of the scant clothing they'd been wearing. The last barrier against their skin.

Some people would call this insanity. Attempting the same thing but expecting different results; it was the definition of insanity. But Roy would be lying if he attempted to convince anyone, let alone himself, that this had anything to do with attempting to break the bond.

It was an unmentioned thing between them, that this had nothing to do with alchemy, with the bond binding their souls. But Roy couldn't find it in himself to care, not when Ed was lying naked under him, blond hair sprawled over his duvet and looking at him with those inviting golden eyes. Which was, arguably, another sign that he was going insane.

He'd never thought the biggest temptation he'd have to face in his life would come packaged as Edward Elric.

His lips trailed down to Ed's chin, his jaw, then his neck. Ed tipped his head back, baring his throat for him—and before his brain had even registered what he was doing, Roy was running his tongue along the length of his throat, feeling his rapid pulse, his Adam's apple, tasting the thin layer of salty sweat gleaming on his skin. But also tasting Ed.

Ed. Ed. Ed.

Wherever Ed went, chaos followed, logic and order thrown out the window. Roy's control was just collateral damage.

Ed groaned, and the sound reverberated through Roy's body, his teeth now nipping at Ed's throat, his tongue tasting, his lips kissing.

He was still standing over Ed, leaning over his body. He pulled back, straightening his spine and gazing down at him, at his gorgeous face, his sinfully hot body.

Ed pushed himself up on his elbows, the heat in his eyes scorching him. "Are you just gonna stare at me?"

Roy wondered what Ed could see displayed on his face, his expression. "I'm enjoying the view."

Ed's eyes flicked down, then back up. "So am I."

Keeping his eyes on Ed's, Roy reached for the bedside table next to him, and took out the bottle of lube. His eyes never left Ed's as he rubbed some over his fingers.

"Legs up," he commanded, throwing the bottle next to Ed on the duvet.

Ed gave him a dirty little smirk but obliged, lying back down and lifting his legs to his chest. "Bossy bastard."

Roy leaned over him again, supporting his weight on one hand while the other teased Ed's entrance. Ed squirmed and shivered as he rubbed the tender skin with his finger, hips thrusting to get closer.

"Don't tease, bastard," Ed panted, his hot breath hitting Roy's lips.

He inserted a finger, all the way, and Ed bit his lip, rolling his hips.

There was no coherent, logical thought in his mind. His whole body was throbbing, the tip of his cock wet with precum, painfully hard and desperate to be inside Ed. Waiting was agony.

He inserted another finger, Ed taking it easily, his hips gently thrusting, trying to get more.

"Fuck, hurry up," Ed groaned, rolling his hips again. His hand fisted his cock and he stroked himself, moaning and shivering.

As Roy inserted a third finger, he watched Ed pleasure himself, eyes glazed, feeling his control erode with every passing second, any shred of restraint he still possessed crumbling and leaving only primal need in its place.

Ed pleasuring himself was a sight that was searing itself into his brain, a memory he would never forget, one that he would think about way too often for the rest of his life.

Roy removed his fingers, grabbing the lube again and slicking his length, clumsy with need. Ed lifted his legs up higher, watching impatiently as Roy lined himself up. He placed his hands on Ed's thighs, fingers denting his skin, and then thrust—slowly, slowly, easing himself in and trying not to lose his mind at the loud, satisfied groan that escaped Ed's mouth, at the way Ed clenched around him, the wet, tight warmth he was sheathing himself in.

"More," Ed rasped, fisting the sheets around him.

Roy's grip on his thighs was almost bruising, a thin layer of sweat already coating his forehead. "I don't want to hurt you—"

"You won't," Ed growled, attempting to grab him and pull him closer.

In one last thrust, he was fully inside, Ed gritting his teeth and grunting.

With his cock buried to the hilt, he straightened once more, gazing down at Ed spread open for him, face and chest flushed red, his cock swollen and leaking precum.

He grabbed Ed's thighs again, eased himself out to the tip and then thrust—harshly, roughly, burying himself once again to the hilt.

Ed grunted, pushing his legs as high as he could and meeting Roy's thrusts eagerly, with a desperation matching Roy's own.

With each slapping thrust the heat in his lower abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, and then Ed bared his throat for him, as though in invitation, in an utter display of trust—and suddenly his hands were wrapping around Ed's throat and he was thrusting harder, fucking him until he was a moaning, whimpering mess, until his brows were furrowed and his eyes glazed, lost in the pleasure. His red, glistening lips parted as gasps and whimpers escaped.

He was magnificent.

"I'm not hurting you?" Roy gasped, but he had to make sure—he had to know—

Ed's hands wrapped around Roy's wrists, nails digging into the skin. His eyes blazed as he met his gaze. "Don't you dare stop."

Roy kept up his pace, Ed meeting his thrusts as best he could, until he hit a certain spot and Ed groaned—loudly, wantonly. "Fuck—right there."

He hit the spot again and again, Ed's whimpers following each slap of skin. "Like this?"

"Yes, fuck," Ed sobbed, and his eyes squeezed shut as he gritted his teeth, his face reddening as the pleasure built and built. His nails dug into Roy's wrists, the pain only adding to the overwhelming sensations flowing through his body.

He was so close, it was taking everything he had in him to keep up his pace, to not abandon his rhythm and give in to the pleasure. His face was burning, his body slick with sweat as the heat in his groin coiled tighter and tighter, and all he wanted—he wanted—

"Say my name," Roy gasped, thrusting again and again. He kept one hand on his throat while the other wrapped around his cock, pumping relentlessly.

"Roy," Ed rasped immediately, and then the pleasure took over, his eyes fluttering shut once again, his lips parting in a moan—and it was the most stunning thing he had ever had the privilege to witness.

He clenched his jaw to prevent the sounds that wanted to escape, but a grunt made it through anyway, waves of pleasure washing over him as that word—his name—came from Ed's lips, in Ed's husky voice. "Ed."

He released his throat, his elbows coming to either side of his head as he thrust mercilessly, Ed's arms wrapping around him as he lost himself, holding him. A part of him noticed the wet stickiness between their stomachs, but he was too busy chasing his release, chasing what was going to be the best orgasm of his life—

"Say it again," he pleaded shakily against Ed's hot cheek, resting his trembling knees on the mattress and fisting a hand in Ed's smooth, silky blond hair—

"Roy," Ed all but whispered, close to his ear, his nails scratching down his back—and it was enough. With a shaky whimper, he trembled as the orgasm rocked through him, his vision blacking out for a second as he came inside Ed.

Ed held on to him as Roy gasped for breath, as he rode out his orgasm, and then held him even closer as they both caught their breath, their muscles turning to jelly. Roy's heart was beating wildly in his chest, each pounding reverberating through his body.

He tucked his face into Ed's sweaty neck, his face hot and slick with its own layer of sweat. There was not a single thought in his mind, his brain for once going silent, giving him a moment of peace.

Ed's legs wrapped around his waist, holding him down, and Roy noticed the slight tremor in his thighs. He lifted his head, even though he was positive his face was an embarrassing blotchy red, and took in the flushed perfection that was Ed's face.

He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he nudged Ed's cheek with his nose. "You okay there?"

Ed chuckled, the sound low and deep and carefree, and Roy felt the rumble against his chest. "More than okay."

Something warm bloomed in his chest at the words—that Ed was okay, that he hadn't hurt him, that he had given him so much pleasure he was now chuckling and grinning and happy. Because it was utter carefree happiness that was flowing through the bond and Roy dared to think it was because of him—that Roy had caused that happiness.

Ed turned his head to face him, his eyes fond and teasing and glowing with post-orgasmic bliss. Roy wondered what he was thinking, when he looked at him like that.

Bits of hair fell across his flushed cheek, and with one hand he reached over and brushed the strands back. He was acutely aware he was still laying on Ed, their bodies flush against each other, but he didn't want to extract himself from Ed's arms just yet.

"You are truly beautiful, Edward."

Ed blinked at him as his cheeks flushed to a darker red. Awkwardness flowed through the bond. "And you're a fucking sap."

Roy's lips twitched up in a smirk he was trying to stifle. "I'm just stating the truth."

He avoided Roy's eyes, which, in their current position, took some effort. "Shut up." Then, before Roy could think up another teasing reply, he said, "I'm starving."

Roy all but snorted a laugh. Of course. "I'll go order us some food."

Ed's arms tightened around him just as he'd willed his muscles to attempt to push him up. "Can we do Cretan?"

Roy rolled his eyes, but he was already thinking of the Cretan places in the area that delivered. "I'll see what I can do."

"And can we eat it in bed?"

"That's where I draw the line."

Ed huffed, finally releasing him. "You're no fun."

A/N I've agonised over this chapter for some reason, my brain's just not fully satisfied with it for some reason, it's like not good enough ahhh