Circumstances

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Branch

What if it were suddenly in their contract, as fictional characters, for Roy and Ed to be lovers? And what would happen next? Contains silly meta and egregious deus ex machina. Exceedingly Divergent Future.
Associated fanart:
- Roy with gyrfalcon by Hikariblue.

- Gyrfalcon by Lyrapuppy.

- Firestorm by Jedera, Roy/Ed, explicit.

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://www.branchandroot.net/archive/).

"Circumstances" published on 2004-01-09 13:31:15.

"This Time" published on 2004-01-10 18:26:08.

"Gyre" published on 2004-01-10 18:40:40.

"Rough" published on 2004-01-12 18:51:12.

"The Upper Hand" published on 2004-01-13 19:04:46.

"Enough" published on 2004-01-14 21:15:10.

"Relaxed" published on 2004-01-14 21:19:58.

"Gift" published on 2004-01-14 21:30:21.

"Rare" published on 2004-02-16 21:28:23.

"Rosin" published on 2004-03-02 21:34:03.

"Sustained" published on 2004-03-11 21:46:24.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on September 6, 2019 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Cover illustration is "Trees in Mallorca" by Leo Gestel, public domain.

Cover design by Branch.

Circumstances

Roy and Ed find out about the new contract. Porn With Insights and Occasional Purple, I-4.

Ed stared out a third floor window of East City military headquarters and grumbled to himself. "Never find the damn Stone at this rate... How many years?... ratings... stupid..." Ed thumped the windowpane, left handed, to relieve his frustration.

"Hm? Does that mean you'll be staying here from now on?"

Startled, Ed tried to inhale in the wrong direction.

Once he'd gotten his choking under control he leveled a glare at the man who had sprung up out of nowhere at his elbow, and growled. "Taisa..."

Roy Mustang received the glare serenely, waving toward the window. "A fine view to console yourself with, Edward-kun. You haven't answered my question."

Ed snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

He leaned back against the window. There wasn't much hope the Colonel would go away if ignored, but at least the cool glass might help the Mustang-induced headache. Sure enough, Mustang leaned beside him, just a bit too close for comfort. Ed rolled his eyes and took up his muttering again, internally this time.

Evil minded bastard... gets his jollies annoying people... bad karma... didn't deserve this though...

A gloved finger trailed down Ed's neck.

Ed made a heek noise and sprang two meters sideways. "Taisa!"

Mustang's slight smile never faltered. He strolled towards Ed, who backed up. "So formal, Edward-kun? Surely it isn't necessary."

Ed's eyes widened. "You can't be serious about this. You're never serious about this! All that meaningful look, personal space, knowing grin stuff, you've never been serious! ...have you?" Ed had run into a desk, and the Colonel wasn't stopping, and his tirade ended a bit higher than it had started. "You're not..."

As the Colonel's head bent toward him, Ed shoved him off to arm's length. "You can't do that! This is a shounen series!" he hissed.

Mustang blinked at him. "You hadn't heard?"

"...heard what?"

"We've been transferred."

"...what?"

"Our print-media contract was bought by another company and given to one of their contractors."

In absolute calm, Ed asked The Question.

"Who?"

Mustang rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "One of the ones who publish BL lines, I believe."

"What?!" Ed screeched.

"Mm. Maybe it was Biblios."

Ed hyperventilated.

"Or possibly Kadokawa Shoten; you know, the ones who publish CLAMP."

Ed turned dead white and clutched at the desk.

"So, you see, there's a new script direction of course. Are you quite all right, Edward-kun?" Mustang put a solicitous hand under Ed's arm as he swayed.

That's... and now... he's supposed to... I'm... Ed shook himself sharply and came to the rather abrupt realization that the Colonel still had him backed up against a desk and was now inside his guard. The Colonel was, in fact, leaning comfortably with a hand to each side of Ed on the desk.

"It won't work," Ed declared firmly.

"Really?"

Ed shot the Colonel a dirty look. "You're supposed to... well... with me? No, it's a complete miscast, it'll never work."

"How so?" Mustang inquired, conversationally, not moving.

Ed swelled with outrage. "I. Am. Not. Uke!"

"Edward-kun," Mustang said in his most patient and reasonable tone, "I'm fourteen years older than you, several ranks higher, and, while your combat skills are indeed outstanding, I still win the actual fight. As has been demonstrated. And," with the air of delivering a clinching argument, "I'm seven centimeters taller than you."

Ed opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again.

"Stupid rule, anyway," he grumbled.

"Well, yes," Mustang conceded. "It does rather put me at a disadvantage, myself, in almost any other situation. I'll help you write a letter of protest to the management, I think."

He looked down at Ed.

"Later."

Ed's mouth tightened.

"Am I so distasteful to you, Edward-kun?" Mustang murmured.

"You're not anything! I've never thought about this! You're..." Ed waved a hand as if he could catch the right words out of the air.

He categorically refused to say that he thought of Mustang a bit as a friend and somewhat as a really annoying older brother.

"You're my boss!" he finally finished.

Mustang widened his eyes. "Why I do believe you're right, Edward-kun! How nice to know that you're also aware of the fact."

A really, really annoying older brother. Ed narrowed his own eyes. "That wasn't what I meant," he clipped out.

Mustang regarded him evenly for long enough to make Ed start worrying. "Is it beneath you, then, to take some passing pleasure from a friend?" he asked, at last.

Ed froze. He's not telepathic. He's not telepathic! I refuse to believe it! No matter who's writing! On the other hand... however he'd come by it, Mustang did have a point. If he thought of Mustang as a not-distant-friend the idea almost worked. And Ed didn't actually want to think about how much trouble it would be to break his contract now.

Ed drove both hands through his hair and sighed. "All right, all right. But let's have a few things straight." He ticked off points on the fingers of his right hand. "No kinky stuff. I am not crying. I am not drooling. You don't make out like I'm helpless. And if I say no I mean NO."

He folded down the last finger and looked meaningfully at Mustang over the resulting closed fist. A corner of Mustang's mouth curled up.

"Fair enough. I'm sure there's latitude in the script for that."

"All right, then." Ed folded his arms and looked steadily off to the side.

"Well?" he prodded, after a few moments. "You're the one who gets to do all the work in this set-up, you know."

"Then it differs not at all from my day job," Mustang mused.

Ed's head snapped back around, mouth open to protest that he was the field agent, here, and Mustang kissed him.

Every muscle in Ed's body tensed, but he managed not to leap backwards off the desk, or possibly through the window, and held still. After a few seconds Mustang drew back to look at him, unsmiling.

"Edward. If you truly don't want this, I'm sure there are ways around it."

Ed lifted an eyebrow and this time it was Mustang's mouth that thinned.

"I don't want you unwilling, Edward. I've never wanted you unwilling for anything."

Ed gazed back, caught by the words. He had to allow that it was probably true. For all that he was a scheming, conniving, rat-bastard, the Colonel had rarely spoken less than the truth to Ed. He had never offered false hope. He had, in fact, given Ed unfailing, if sarcastic, support. And, Ed added a bit sourly to himself, given the Colonel's extensive reputation it was unlikely to be a bad experience. At last he looked up, seriously.

"Don't expect me to jump right in at the deep end," he warned.

Mustang's mouth softened. "I won't." And then a gleam entered his eyes. "It will make a pleasant challenge that way."

Ed swallowed just a bit hard. "Taisa. You're not actually a sex maniac, right?"

The Colonel chuckled with great good humor. "Of course not, Edward-kun. You really shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Well, now, that's not exactly in spec either, is it?" Ed pointed out, nettled.

"No, I suppose not." Mustang's smile turned wry. "Perhaps we're both just a bit miscast. We'll have to make do as best we can, hm?"

Ed shrugged acceptance.

Mustang tugged off his gloves and curved his hands around Ed's face, tilting his head back. This time he gave Ed plenty of warning. Ed wasn't sure whether that was an improvement. The slow approach almost gave him too much time to anticipate. A shiver blew over him just before Mustang's lips touched his.

Mustang's kisses were soft, light, there and then gone. Ed heaved a faint sigh and relaxed just a bit. Mustang sucked gently, coaxing, on his lower lip, and Ed slowly opened his mouth.

Still, Mustang's lips only brushed his, open mouthed now. It felt like a feather, drawn over Ed's lips again and again.

Cool hands slid down his neck and over his shoulders, pushing away his coat. Ed tensed again, both hands closing on the front of Mustang's uniform jacket. He felt Mustang's lips curve against his own. Mustang drew back and smoothly shed his jacket, raising a brow as he did. The implicit offer of the Colonel going first calmed Ed. Not that it would come out even, considering how many layers that uniform had, but as good faith gestures went it wasn't bad. Ed let Mustang lift the red coat off his shoulders.

As Mustang stepped close again Ed looked up, biting his lip. He raised one finger in a wait-a-moment gesture. Mustang waited. Ed pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the desk behind him, which brought him almost level with Mustang. He nodded, satisfied. "Much better."

For some reason this assertion seemed to amuse Mustang. "Are you sure?"

"Yeees," Ed answered, warily. "Why?"

This smile showed teeth. Mustang took one long step forward... between Ed's legs.

Ed inhaled sharply.

Mustang laughed. "Truly, Edward, there's no need to be so on edge."

"When you like playing games like that?" Ed snapped.

Mustang sighed and lifted a hand to brush Ed's cheek with his fingers. "But don't you enjoy playing games too? Isn't that one of the reasons you've been willing to stay in my command? Think of this as another game, Edward."

Ed gave him a trenchant look.

"So. Perhaps another way, then." Mustang enclosed Ed's face in his hands again. His voice lowered and turned serious. "Edward, my friend, I will not harm you. I will not force you. If you let me I will make this very enjoyable for you."

Ed held very still between Mustang's hands. He couldn't see any spark of joking in the man's eyes, and Mustang was holding him as if he were something both fragile and valuable. Ed fetched in a deep breath that wavered only a little and let his head fall to Mustang's shoulder.

"All right," he whispered.

Mustang's arms came around him and Ed felt a hand stroking his hair. Gradually that hand seemed to leech the tension out of Ed's neck and shoulders until, with one long shudder, he finally relaxed.

When Mustang placed a kiss just below his ear it caused only a slight hitch in Ed's breath.

"Much better." There was satisfaction in Mustang's voice.

"Taisa," Ed mumbled against Mustang's shoulder, "why are you going to this much trouble? Don't tell me you couldn't wind the script around your little finger if you wanted to."

"If I tell you, will you call me by name?"

Ed grumbled about extortion, but agreed.

"Because you deserve some pleasure for the troubles you've had under my command. Because I think your sense of mischief will make you an interesting lover. Because you've grown from a pretty child into a stunning young man. Is that enough?"

Ed lifted his head. "Is there more?"

He caught just a moment when Mustang's eyes were as deep as a midnight sky, and then their expression shifted and they were merely very dark blue.

"Perhaps," Mustang answered.

A thought whispered through Ed's mind, Not yet, and he nodded. "It'll do for now."

"Good."

Mustang drew Ed to the edge of the desk, until their bodies were flush against each other, and kissed him with concentration. Not feathery kisses, this time, but still coaxing, teasing Ed's tongue. Ed's exhale became a moan, and Mustang returned a low chuckle into their kiss. It felt as if Mustang had trailed a finger down the inside of Ed's spine.

And then Mustang's fingers did find his spine, weaving down it as if Mustang wanted to braid his nerves. Ed leaned against him, shivering.

Mustang broke off the kiss long enough to shed his shirt and run an inquiring finger down the front of Ed's. Ed nodded, wordless. Mustang took his time about it, fingers brushing Ed's stomach, ribs, shoulders until, when it was finally off, Ed reached for him just to have a solid touch.

The sleek heat of Mustang's skin against his almost changed his mind. Ed dropped his head back down to Mustang's shoulder and, when the man's palms slid up his back, turned his mouth against Mustang's neck to stop whatever sound was trying to make its way out.

"Ed..."

The low breath of Mustang's voice moved over Ed like desert wind, hot enough to burn. Ed had time to realize that Mustang's voice was affecting him more deeply than the touch of his hands when those hands found his hips and pulled them tight together.

"Aahhh!" Ed arched back sharply, startled by the sudden wash of sensation, felt Mustang's hand come up between his shoulders, guiding him down to the desk, felt the surface under him cool and... soft?

Ed panted, staring at the ceiling for a while before turning his head to see that he was lying on a bed. He turned back to look very calmly at Roy, kneeling over him.

"When?"

"Just now," Roy confirmed, bemused. "A fast cut. I've heard of the technique, but our previous writers never used it."

"This isn't my bed," Ed informed him evenly. "Can I hope that it's yours?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good." Ed took another look and raised an eyebrow. "You have silk sheets?"

"Ah. Mine with some alterations, apparently."

Ed reached up and dragged one of the pillows over his face. "Alterations. Wonderful."

The bed dipped, to the accompaniment of some rustling and throat-clearing noises. When Mustang spoke it was in the tone of a man trying not to laugh lest he get nailed with a pillow.

"Shall I take it I have some work to do to retrieve the mood?"

Ed hauled off the pillow so he could glare at his companion, now leaning at ease on one elbow. "Mood!? Never mind the mood! What else is going to happen?"

Roy brushed Ed's disheveled hair back. "Nothing you don't want to happen. Will you accept my word for it?"

It's the voice, Ed decided, looking away. "Yes."

A pause.

"Will you let me take your hair down?"

Ed looked back around and blinked a few times. "...if you want."

Roy pulled him up to sit cross-legged and settled behind him. Ed felt light fingers undo his hair tie and slowly start to unwind the braid. They combed his hair out, sliding against his neck and back. His breathing started to deepen.

"You have the most magnificent hair," Roy purred in his ear. "I'd almost hate to see what would happen if you left it loose all the time. There might be traffic accidents."

Ed's breath stopped. The voice. Definitely. Please don't let him know. He leaned back against Roy, looking once again at the ceiling. "Could be useful some time."

He could feel Roy's answering laugh as well as hear it. And then Roy's mouth was warm on his neck, and he closed his eyes and released a low sigh. Roy's fingers traced over Ed's chest, outlining the muscles.

"Mm. You're right," Roy murmured against his throat.

"About... what...?"

"You're not nearly willowy enough to be a proper uke."

Ed started to sit bolt upright, and then halted deciding he'd been complimented. "Damn right."

Roy's hand slid down, brushing back and forth just above Ed's waist. Ed chewed on his lip for a moment and then made a deliberate effort to relax into Roy's arms.

"Ah. Good," came the whisper in his ear.

Roy's touch lightened as it descended, until just his fingertips danced down between Ed's legs.

"Ah... haahh..." Ed couldn't quite catch his breath. The feather touch brushed over and over him. "Not miscast," Ed husked, "type-cast... sadistic... tease..."

"Pleasure takes time, Edward."

The fingers started drawing circles and Ed lost what breath he had caught.

Two fingers slipped up the line of his zipper and paused.

"May I?"

Without the air for words, Ed nodded.

Roy's touch became, briefly, more businesslike. Ed's boots caused a sufficient delay for Ed to regather his thoughts. When he had done so he found that Roy, true to their unspoken agreement earlier, had removed his own remaining clothes. For a moment he simply looked.

Roy's body glowed where the light fell, like an ink drawing on porcelain. He moved, not like his favored fire, but like water, long currents of muscle under the smoothness of his skin.

"So," Roy's voice drew Ed's eyes back to his, which glinted, "am I worthy of my lover's beauty?"

Ed was caught between the strong desire to stick out his tongue and the sneaking conviction that this would be an unwise challenge just at the moment. Instead he did something that worked a great deal better. He lifted a hand to Roy's side...

...and tickled.

Roy collapsed with a very undignified yelp. Ed stared for one second and then, grinning in utter, evil delight, pounced on him. He even had the upper hand until Roy discovered that Ed's toes were horribly ticklish. Before too long they were both laughing too hard to do anything very effective.

"If I let go of your arm, can we have a truce?" Roy panted.

"I suppose so. For now."

They shared a smiling moment before Roy caught Ed against him and kissed him, no longer light and careful, now deep and heated. Ed wound his arms around Roy and returned it, feeling a little awkward but no longer hesitant.

Roy turned onto his back, carrying Ed over him, hands running down his arms, his back, his legs. Ed moved against him, restless, unable to be still under those stroking hands. He leaned down to rest his forehead on the cool sheets. A knee pressed between his legs, parting them. Fingers traced a tendon up his inner thigh, light and shivery.

"Roy," he whispered.

Roy's breath beside his ear hitched. He turned his head, seeking out Ed's mouth for a fierce kiss. His fingers searched higher, and a new tension pulled Ed taut. He shivered and one hand closed, hard, on the sheets.

"Roy..."

"So." Roy paused to trace Ed's parted lips with his tongue. "I wonder if the alterations to my room include a larger bath? A large quantity of hot water would be helpful here."

Ed's senses were trying to tell him that something was odd. The cloth under his hand was definitely not silk and the air was suddenly full of... steam?

They both stopped.

"What is it this time?" Ed groaned, refusing to open his eyes.

"We appear to have relocated to a hot spring."

Ed's eyes popped open. They were, indeed, now lying on stone, in a nest of towels, beside a pool of steaming water.

"A hot spring? There aren't any hot springs in this whole area! Where is this supposed to come from?!"

After a moment's contemplation Roy offered, "Perhaps this is supposed to be a dream sequence now."

Ed grabbed a towel, in lieu of a pillow, to pull over his head, but it just didn't feel the same. He tossed it off again and propped himself up on Roy's chest. "So? What use did you have for a lot of hot water, anyway?"

Roy smiled. "Let me up and I'll show you." He halted at the edge of the water, though. "Will this be any problem?" he brushed the metal of Ed's arm.

"No. I paid for the best." Ed regarded his hand, a crooked smile on his lips for the double edge of his statement. He started a bit when Roy lifted his chin.

"Yes," Roy answered, very serious, "you did."

Ed took a while finding an answer for that look. "Show me," he said, at last, softly.

Roy led him into the water, which came up to Ed's chest, and pulled Ed lightly against him. "The point of the hot water," he murmured in Ed's ear, "is to relax you."

"Mmm." Ed draped an arm over Roy's shoulders. "Working so far."

"Very good."

Roy's hands swept down Ed's body, drawing rushes of water in their wake. Ed liked it; it almost tickled but not quite. He stretched into the feeling a little.

And then one of Roy's hands touched him more firmly, sliding down his back, down, fingers pressing, parting him. Ed bit back a gasp. His hands closed hard on Roy's shoulders. The heat that surrounded him softened his muscles but tension still sang through him like a drawn wire.

Roy's touch never stilled, circling, sliding, as coaxing as his earlier kisses had been. As if Roy had heard Ed's half-formed thought, his lips brushed lightly over Ed's open mouth, drawing Ed's breath back out in short bursts. Ed shivered, his body starting against Roy's.

Finally, Roy's fingers pressed Ed open, and his mouth came down hard, swallowing Ed's inarticulate exclamation. Ed's shivering came and went, the complete strangeness of that touch inside him alternating with flickers of something.

"Ah... haa... aaah..."

"Edward, relax." Roy's voice, deep and breathless, slid down Ed's nerves like lightning grounding itself.

"Edward, my hawk, Ed..."

Heat unfurled inside Ed, spread through him until it overwhelmed the heat of the water around him. It fed the something until the flickers became a steady brightness in all of Ed's senses. Roy's touch and Roy's voice met somewhere inside Ed and left him leaning heavily against Roy, panting, completely unstrung.

"Edward... let me...?"

Ed shuddered under the heat of that resonant whisper. He must know, floated through his mind. "Yes."

A few steps brought them to the edge of the pool, and Ed leaned against it. He rested his forehead on the cool stone and ignored whatever Roy was doing to make clattering noises.

"...ah. Thought it must be here somewhere."

Ed ignored that, too.

Roy's hands covered his shoulders. "You're sure?"

"Yeah."

Roy laid a kiss on the back of Ed's neck. "Thank you."

Always knows just what to say...completely unfair. The mildly disgruntled thought didn't stop Ed from sighing as Roy nibbled his ear.

Ed leaned more heavily on the edge as Roy pressed his legs apart. The water swirled around him, and the feeling of Roy standing so close behind him quickened his breath. Roy moved still closer, and his cock was pressed against Ed, somehow softer than his fingers had been. Pressing, hard, so slow, the slowness of it strangled Ed's moan.

Harder.

Ed started as Roy's fingers dug deeply into his lower back. His muscles spasmed, released...

So slow.

Ed moaned again, lower, deeper, overwhelmed by the slide of Roy inside him, not stopping, sustained like a violinist might sustain a single note.

"Ed..." A breath, rough and tense. One of Roy's hands had come up to clench on the edge. Ed felt the other close around him, tight, knowing, stroking. Roy shifted within him.

"Aahhh!"

Pleasure burned up through Ed, he lost track of anything but Roy moving, inside him, around him, Roy's voice wrapped like fire around him, Roy's touch sliding, burning, tighter, wound tighter. He moved, hard, into Roy, with Roy, seeking the breaking point until it found him and everything snapped.

When he came down, he found himself still in the water, vaguely surprised they hadn't boiled the pool dry.

Roy was leaning against his back, which pressed the edge of the pool into Ed's chest. Ed mumbled something that was supposed to be a protest, though it didn't sound much like one in his own ears. The sense must have gotten though, because Roy slowly pushed himself back up.

Ed shivered at the brief slide as Roy withdrew.

"I suppose," Roy's voice was lazy, "that we should get out of the water before we're parboiled."

"Mm." Ed hauled himself over the edge and promptly collapsed on the towels. His legs felt like jelly. He consoled himself that Roy didn't seem to be doing a great deal better. "No pillows," Ed complained. "Come'ere."

He flopped down on Roy's shoulder and ignored it when his impromptu pillow shook with laughter.

"I was right. You make a very interesting lover, my hawk."

Ed pried an eye open. "Your what?"

Silence for a moment while Roy ran a hand through Ed's hair.

"Do you know anything about falconry, Edward?"

Ed levered himself up the better to deliver his best Excuse Me? look. Mustang wore a rather odd little smile.

"It's a fascinating study. You should look into it some time."

Ed contemplated him for a few seconds before lying back down. "You're not just a pervert, you're a weird pervert."

"A pervert?" Roy didn't even have the grace to sound concerned.

"You just had sex with someone only a little more than half your age."

"And enjoyed it immensely," Roy agreed, quite serene.

"See?"

"And does this worry you?"

Ed snorted. "I have better things to worry about," he declared.

"Such as?"

"Where are our clothes?"

Epilogue

"...ah, yes, and the municipal guard of West City seems to want a word with you, Fullmetal."

Ed stopped craning his head around, having watched Havoc close the office door behind him.

"Never mind that," he snapped. "What the hell happened? We haven't been transferred again, I checked, but the script has reverted."

"Mm." Mustang steepled his hands thoughtfully. "From what I can find out, our... interlude... was the work of one particular writer on the new team. They seem to value the incongruity of her chapters."

"Wonderful," emerged rather muffled, as Ed scrubbed a hand over his face. "You mean it'll happen again?"

"Possibly. Do you object?"

Ed looked aside. "Could be worse."

Mustang's mouth curved, but his eyes didn't smile at all.

"That will do for now."

End

Branch: Well, that's the Nervous Virgin story out of the way.

Ed: *Glare of Death, flexes right hand*

Branch: *squints at story* Ok, Ed that was pretty good, but what's up with you Roy? That was way more baroque than usual toward the end.

Roy: *examines nails* You gave me four years lead time to develop how I look at Edward-kun. During which, may I also point out, you failed to promote me.

Branch: Hey! Seven years in grade is perfectly average for an officer!

Roy: *cool look* Are you calling me average?

Branch: Oh, there's just no talking to you!

Ed: *mutters* I could have told you that.

Branch: Fine. Fine! The story premise is skewed to begin with, you might as well keep on.

Ed: So, do I ever get to find out what the rest of his reasons are?

Branch: *thoughtful* Could. Maybe. We'd have to carry on the story line.

Roy: *smiles*

Ed: *glares* Hm. *taps toe, chews nail* Maybe. I guess. When I'm in the mood. *folds arms and turns back on Roy*

Roy: *smirks*

Branch: *holds head* What did I do to deserve you two?

This Time

And after the first time, what happens next? Porn With Insights, I-4.

This time Roy had to track Edward down to his own rooms. He knocked politely on Edward's door and heard a growl that might have been an invitation to enter, supposing the occupant were a bear disturbed during hibernation. He shrugged and pushed the door open. Edward was sprawled over his bed, staring fixedly at the ceiling.

"You got the notice this time, Edward-kun?" Roy inquired.

A curled lip.

"And, so?"

"And so what?" Edward shot back, toneless.

Roy easily recognized someone being difficult just because he could.

"So," Roy sauntered to the bedside and held out a hand, "would you care for a more private location?"

Ed turned expressionless eyes on him. "Al's gone to visit that mutt of Hawkeye-taii's. This author covers her bases pretty well."

"Convenient," Roy allowed.

No response.

Roy sighed. "I see several possibilities here, Edward-kun. One is that you've decided to refuse this script, but I have difficulty imagining that you would hesitate or linger over that decision. Another is that you wish to provoke me into inventive measures to gain your compliance, but somehow I don't think you've become quite that enthusiastic. I am led to conclude that you simply wish to provoke me, period. If I admit that you have succeeded, may we continue in a more relaxed fashion?"

Edward's cool expression slipped into a wicked grin. "Ah. I feel better about the world, now. So, yes, I guess we can." He stretched, catlike right down to the smug look.

Roy leaned down, swiftly, caught Edward's chin and kissed him. After a startled pause the lips under his relaxed, softened, parted.

"Taisa..." Edward sighed as they drew apart.

Somehow Roy was positive they would always begin there, with his rank. He hoped to coax his name out of Edward a bit more quickly this time, though.

Edward tilted his head, considering him. "You aren't wearing your uniform."

"Far too much trouble for situations like this," Roy told him, airily.

"Hm. Never heard that it gave you that much trouble." Edward's tone was dry. Roy ran a finger down his jaw.

"You give me enough trouble in any case that I'll dispense with all the rest that I can."

Edward looked up at him through half-closed eyes. Roy was almost sure that Edward had no idea how sultry his own expression was, and he was glad for it. Edward would discover it quickly enough, now that he had a lover to observe, and Roy found himself caught between amusement and trepidation every time he thought of an Edward Elric who understood the power of his own looks.

At this particular moment, though, he wanted simply to enjoy his partner's sensuality, unconscious as it might be. At least, he thought, Edward seemed considerably more relaxed this time.

Roy's mouth curled up.

Let's test it.

He toed off his boots and moved all the way onto the bed, kneeling over Edward's hips. Edward's eyes flickered, but, as Roy drew off his shirt, a spark lit them and he stretched again, challenge in the lift of his chin.

Roy couldn't help but laugh, and he leaned over Edward to let the room's shadows hide the heat in his eyes. "Yes, my hawk, you'll be dangerous," he murmured.

Edward's lashes shivered, and fell as Roy slid his hands up Edward's chest. Roy brushed a kiss over each closed eye.

"Mmm."

Roy was pleased to feel Edward's fingers, a bit hesitantly, seek the buttons of his shirt. Roy shrugged out of it.

But when he would have returned to Edward, Edward caught his hands.

"Roy..."

Roy half expected to see nervousness in Edward's eyes, but what he found was appeal. Edward reached out one hand and ran it, slowly, down Roy's chest. Edward's voice was soft and low.

"... I want... to touch you..."

Roy looked down, considering. It's only fair, he decided. "If you like."

He stretched himself out on the bed and offered Edward a lazy, inviting smile. Edward, still hesitant, leaned up on one hand beside him, laid the other on his stomach. Roy suppressed a shiver as those fingers traced over his skin.

Edward set out to explore, touching lightly, following the lines of Roy's muscle and bone. When he reached Roy's neck Roy tipped his head back and sighed.

The touches halted.

Roy looked up at Edward to find him staring back, wide-eyed. "Ah. Does it stir something in you, Edward? To know that you affect me?"

Edward didn't answer, only ran a finger back along the line from Roy's ear to his collarbone.

"Hmmm."

Edward's touch skipped downward, halting at Roy's waist. Roy closed his eyes.

"You needn't stop." He was curious how Edward would choose to take that.

Slowly, Edward unfastened buttons and zipper. Ah. Roy shifted, and felt Edward slip his pants off, almost managing not to touch Roy in the process. After a long pause Edward continued to Roy's underclothes. Roy was vastly amused that it seemed to take Edward longer to decide to get rid of the socks than the underwear. He stifled his grin.

Roy didn't open his eyes until he felt Edward's hands on his leg. Edward sat on his knees by Roy's feet, having apparently decided to work his way up. His palm and fingertips passed over, around Roy's feet, ankles, knees. Roy's muscles were turning to warm water, and Ed's fingers rippled cool currents through them. Roy spread his legs apart so that Edward could move between them.

It was alien to Roy to let go his self-control before he was overwhelmed, but Edward was well on his way to that already and Roy wanted to return the favor a little. As Edward's thumb traced up his inner thigh Roy moaned low in his throat.

Edward's breath caught.

Ah, yes.

"Edward," Roy breathed.

As Ed's hand closed on his thigh Roy pressed into the touch, opening his legs further. Roy watched Ed through his eyelashes, seeing his breath come faster through parted lips, the gold eyes hazed.

Edward turned to look at him, and Roy saw a spark glint through the haze. Edward's hand passed up his leg to surround his cock, very, very lightly. Roy's eyes closed and he gasped, lost his breath as Ed stroked him with a fingertip.

"Ed...!"

Edward spoke, low and husky, lilting a bit as he repeated Roy's words. "Does it stir something? To know I affect you? Yes. Your voice does more to me than your hands. So, tell me..." his voice fell further, "...what does it do to you to hear me like this?"

Roy seized Ed's wrists, pulled Ed down against him, and then under him, kissed him hard. "Evil creature," he laughed in Ed's ear. "You learn very quickly for someone with his first lover."

"Just because I'd never had sex," Ed panted, "doesn't mean I didn't have eyes and ears. Doesn't take much to know you like to tease. Especially me," he finished a bit sharply.

"Is it teasing that I enjoy your pleasure and want to increase it?" Roy asked, as if injured.

Ed's expression sharpened to a knife edge. "Yes."

"All right, all right," Roy agreed, waving a pacifying hand, "we both know what we're doing then, yes?"

Edward looked like he was examining the question for traps. Roy decided to be generous.

"I like teasing you." He sucked lightly on Edward's earlobe. "And, to judge by your recent performance, you like teasing back."

Ed moaned softly.

Roy let his voice drop. "And to hear you like this makes me desire a great many things."

Ed's moan was no longer soft.

"Now, Edward-kun," Roy whispered, "you're wearing too many clothes."

Those dispensed with, however, Edward reached out and drew Roy down to lie over him, holding his hands tightly. Roy felt tension all through the body under his and, looking down, found uncertainty had entered Edward's eyes and the line of his mouth.

A bit too far and a bit too fast, Roy thought, with a twinge of repentance. He gathered Edward close and simply held him for a moment, pressed a soothing kiss to his forehead.

"Do you want to continue, Edward?"

Edward stilled, made a slight, surprised noise, and Roy shook his head. "Contrary to your previous accusation, I am not, in fact, a sadist."

Edward hmphed faintly.

"I take no enjoyment from it if you're in discomfort or pain," Roy told him a bit sternly. "In either your body or your mind."

The tension relaxed. The flash of panic had retreated, replaced with a faint blush as Edward regained his composure. Roy wanted to make sure of his recovery, though. "Do you wish to continue?"

"...yes."

"Then," Roy murmured, letting his voice soften, deepen, "would you rather I drew it out? Kept you on the edge of pleasure the whole night? Or are you impatient for me to finish you quickly now?"

A sharp shiver ran through Edward, and he pressed up against Roy. Roy smiled against his hair.

"Finish it."

A low, hungry sound rose in Roy's throat, and he let it. He traced the curves of Ed's ear with his tongue for distraction as he fished over the side of the bed for his pants. More precisely, what he'd tucked into the pocket before tracking Edward down. It was a mild feat of dexterity to twist the cap off one-handed, but that's what talent was for.

Now, then.

He pulled Edward over him and stroked down his spine, sliding his hand between Ed's cheeks, pressing into him. Ed shuddered against him, leaned down to kiss Roy hard, open mouthed. His body tightened, relaxed. There.

"Sit back a bit," Roy asked.

After a moment Ed did, resting both hands on Roy's chest. Roy sighed at the coolness of the metal hand against his skin. His mouth quirked as Ed's eyes widened at feeling Roy's cock pressing behind him.

"Now." Roy pushed forward, biting his lip at the electric feeling of moving against the soft resistance of Ed's body. Ed's breath caught, stopped.

"... Edward... breathe..." Roy managed.

Ed's abrupt relaxation took Roy by surprise and he gasped at the sudden heat closed so tightly around him. Roy focused, shifted on the bed, searching for the right angle to share this fire.

He knew he'd found it when Ed threw back his head, wordless, pressing back into him.

Roy moved, slow and hard in the grip of Ed's body, nerves scorched by the heat of it. One hand found Ed's, clasped tight with it, each pressing against the other's palm for steadiness. He ran his other hand up Ed's taut thigh, between his legs, and Ed's breathless sounds wound around him, clenched tighter, driving him beyond himself. His body strained like a drawn bow, tighter, further...

Released.

Roy drew Ed down before he collapsed, held him, waited for the light-headedness from breathing so deeply to pass.

When Ed stirred against him, stretched, and twitched a bit, Roy fished back through his pockets for the other small bottle he'd stowed away, congratulating himself on his foresight.

"Take a few of these, and lie still until they take effect," he directed.

Edward's expression was priceless.

"I did mention not being a sadist."

Ed glared, tossed down three pills and buried his head in the pillows with a mutter that Roy only caught part of.

"...completely unfair..."

Roy charitably refrained from laughing. He lounged beside Edward, rubbing his back until he relaxed into a doze. Roy dropped a kiss on the back of Edward's neck.

"Until next time," he said quietly.

End

Branch: *leans wearily on keyboard* Can't you two ever have straightforward sex without all the psychology?

Ed: *gives her the evil eye* Can't you ever write it?

Roy: Be honest, Madam, have you ever written any sex scene that lacked background?

Branch: I suppose you have a point.

Ed: Though there is...

Branch: *warily* There is what?

Roy: Weren't we going to wait on that?

Ed: Could make a nice change of pace. *leans on suddenly materialized wall, crosses ankles* Keep me from getting bored.

Roy: Indeed. *meaningful look at Author*

Branch: Right, right. 'Lemme go get a drink and I'll be right with you.

Gyre

Ed gets answers and questions about Roy's motives. Drama, I-3.

Do you know anything about falconry, Edward?...It's a fascinating study. You should look into it some time.

Edward Elric spent a good deal of his time in libraries, and when his research was going well he rather liked them. Libraries were quiet places where the information you were looking for held still and waited for you to come get it.

Of course, when research was not going well, that became a source of frustration.

Ed slammed another book shut.

"I don't care what they're called when they're two years old, I don't care how you have to feed a fledgling, and I certainly don't care how they mate!"

He had not intended to rise to Mustang's bait about the falconry. But the man had taken so consistently to calling him "hawk" during the increasingly disjointed interludes when That Author got hold of the storyline that Ed had finally broken down. The Colonel was obviously making some point and Ed wanted to know what it was.

So far he had found five books talking about nothing but passagers and seeling and jesses and casting, complete with line drawings, and he was about to give it up as a bad job. Or, possibly, a bad joke. If there was a point in all this, he wasn't seeing it.

After all, the Nothing Kinky rule was still in effect.

Ed eyed the remaining three book he had pulled off the shelves on his sweep through the library. One more try, and then he was going to go get some food.

"Eenie, meenie, miny, moe," he mumbled to himself. His finger stopped on the middle book, and he pulled it out and opened it with a sigh.

At least it was short.

Half an hour later Al found him, sitting in a pool of lamplight staring at the cover of a closed book as if it were some new transmutation circle and Ed wasn't sure what it would do.

"Nii-san? Dinner is almost gone at the canteen. Were you coming?"

Ed started at his brother's gentle reminder and called up a smile for him. "Yeah, I was just about to leave. Let me put these back."

Snatches of that last book echoed through Ed's mind as they crossed the courtyard.

This is not a hobby to be taken on lightly, nor is it one that can be put in a closet on a rainy day, or if the falconer doesn't feel well that day. For the most part, birds of prey are not capable of "affection" for their handler, and the best one can expect is tolerance and acceptance. Falconers speak of "serving" their bird, and that is very much the case, for this is a partnership in which the bird has the upper hand, and can choose at any time to dissolve the relationship and fly away.

How was he a hawk? A statement on the amount of work Ed's excursions made for the Colonel? That seemed too simple, though. Backhanded flattery? That would be more in Mustang's line. But he had to know Ed wouldn't actually leave. Not while he still needed the edge this position gave him in his search for a way to retrieve Al's and his bodies.

Another passage returned to him.

The falconer must do all of his training himself. Unless, of course, he happens to be so wealthy that like the nobility of old, he can employ a falconer to man "his" birds—though in that case, they will never be "his", for they will truly answer only to the hand that trained them.

Ed stopped dead in the middle of the court, staring up at the one office window still lit.

"Nii-san?"

Ed's gaze didn't budge. "Al, I need to talk to Mustang-taisa about something. I'll be right along."

He turned to find Al looking down at him with an expression more knowing and more patient than a metal helmet should have been capable of.

"All right. Remember to eat something, OK?"

Ed patted Al's arm. "I will."

Roy Mustang liked to work late in the evenings. It was a good time to do paperwork, as he could have some assurance that no one would bring him any more for a little while. Only some sort of emergency generated paperwork this late.

Thus, when a knock sounded at his door, Roy expected it to be Hawkeye, or possibly a courier, with news of an uprising or a car accident that had killed some General.

Well, it's always possible, he thought wistfully.

"Come."

Roy was understandably surprised when the door opened to show Edward leaning on the frame. "Edward-kun. Finished with your research project?"

The reminder that Roy always managed to know what Edward was doing barely got a half-hearted glare. Roy was intrigued.

"We're off-script right now, right?"

Roy sat back a bit. "Yes."

Edward started to say something, checked, and wandered a bit aimlessly around the couch. Roy was now absolutely fascinated. Edward stared blankly out the window for a moment before his mouth firmed. "Taisa. What is it you want to do?"

Roy had been expecting some form of this question for years. Edward was hardly blind, and he'd surely seen enough ulterior motives to recognize them. He regretted, for an instant, that he couldn't tell this brilliant young man everything... but no.

"I want to do the same thing every man wants to do, Edward-kun. I want to make the world something other than what it is."

Edward's eyes turned to him, sharp now, and for a moment Roy thought he might push for more. But Edward settled, straightening and turning back to the window. "All right, then. Tell me something else. Why now?"

Roy quirked an eyebrow.

Edward swung away from the window and stalked back through the room. "If it's been enough, for this long, just to watch me fly, if it's been enough that I strike something you approve of, whatever that is, and come back, why take me to bed now?"

Roy smiled slowly.

He rose to join Edward where he'd fetched up, by the bookshelf. Ed stood firm, looking up at him, focused, demanding.

"My golden hawk. Your soul is brighter than your eyes," Roy murmured on a breath of whimsy.

Edward's look evolved into a full-fledged glare, and he drew in a deep, incensed breath. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Roy laid his hands on Edward's shoulders. "Edward, listen to me."

Edward paused, narrow-eyed.

"One can be brilliant, one can have the purity of purpose that cuts like a sword edge, one can have power and genius and Fate's undivided attention and still be dark. But you are not. You are not."

Edward stood very still, emotions flashing through his eyes like colors in a kaleidoscope. Confusion, embarrassment, question, startlement. Roy didn't think he would ever tire of watching the clarity and depth of feelings as they showed in Edward's eyes. To anyone who knew him, he was utterly transparent. And that was why Roy couldn't say more. Edward you're too clear, too bright. If I fail, that's what will keep you alive. But only if you don't know. Forgive my silence and let me borrow your brightness a little longer.

Edward lifted a hand, hesitated, laid it lightly on Mustang's wrist.

Then he pulled away and turned his back. "You and your damn games. Can't you ever give a straight answer to anything?" he huffed.

"But Edward-kun," Roy murmured, "then the game would be over."

Edward snorted.

"And, after all, don't I fly you well?"

Edward's spine straightened with a snap. "I am going to dinner. Al will start worrying if I waste any more time here with you," he announced icily, and marched out the door.

When he was gone Roy spoke to the empty air.

"Good night, Edward."

End

Ed: *steams* That's what you call getting more answers?

Branch: Hey, I just do the general outline, you guys are the ones who fill it in.

Ed: *transfers glare to Roy*

Roy: What do you want, Edward-kun, a story or an essay?

Branch: Make yourselves useful, guys, quit arguing and do the credits.

Roy: *urbanely* To be sure. Dear readers, the passages about falconry were quoted from the afterwords of Mercedes Lackey's novels, Winds of Fate and Winds of Change respectively. We, the characters and author, tender all our gratitude and respect to her.

Branch and Ed, in unison: And quit making fun!

Roy: *faint smile*

Rough

Something about those gloves... Porn Without Plot, mildly kinky, I-4.

Stepping into the Colonel's office after Hawkeye for what promised to be an acrimonious report on his latest assignment, Ed stumbled sharply over a discontinuity.

Hawkeye stopped dead.

"Taisa, excuse me, I forgot one of the reports you asked for. I'll go find it." She saluted and strode briskly out again.

Ed rubbed his forehead. "Oh, don't tell me, let me guess," he groaned. "That Author just took over the story."

"It certainly appears so. Perhaps she's filling in for one of the others." Mustang tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, without much notice I suppose we'll just have to improvise."

"Improvise?" Ed did his level best to hang icicles on his voice.

It did not have an appreciable effect, as Mustang relieved him of his coat and hung it up neatly before winding an arm around Ed's waist. Mustang smiled down at him.

"A specialty of yours, Edward-kun, isn't it?"

"As if I'm the only whee...!" Ed squeaked before he could stop himself, as Mustang's hand slid past the waist of his pants.

Ed made a distinct note to buckle his belt a notch tighter in the future.

And then Mustang's fingers parted him, gently. His still gloved fingers.

The roughness of that glove material snatched Ed's attention, focused it all on the sensation at that one point. "Ah... hhhaa... Roy...!"

Roy's eyes narrowed. "Hmm." He rubbed a single finger across that sensitive skin, and Ed started hard against him. He saw a very pleased smile curve Roy's mouth before his other hand lifted Ed's chin.

Roy kissed him deeply, pressing Ed's mouth open, as he also pressed that one finger almost into Ed, curling it up before drawing back.

Ed grabbed for Roy's shoulders as his knees nearly gave.

Roy didn't stop, his touch circling lightly.

Ed rested his head on Roy's shoulder, trying to gather his senses. But they were all concentrated elsewhere. That rough texture made the lightest touch terribly present, and roused every nerve like a spark that kept flaring. Shudders seized Ed in waves.

Roy's touch became firmer, and heat surged through Ed.

"Roy..."

"Yes?" Roy's voice was low, controlled, but as heated as Ed felt.

"I... Roy, I..." Ed could not find the words to say what he wanted. Fortunately, Roy didn't seem to need them.

"You want more than this, Edward?"

"Yes..."

Roy's eyes burned. "Now? Here?"

Did he?

"...yes."

Roy kissed him again, stealing his breath, and pressed that rough fingertip into him.

Ed cried out into Roy's mouth, and he was fixed, pinned against Roy's body by that one touch. And then Roy released him, and breathed one word in his ear.

"Good."

It pleased Ed, distantly, that Roy sounded quite heartfelt about that. He was equally pleased that Roy seemed to have no trouble undoing all the buckles and so forth in question, because Ed wasn't at all sure he could remember how to operate a zipper just then.

Roy brought them to his desk, and Ed leaned his elbows onto it, trying to catch his breath as Roy rummaged in one of the drawers.

"...know I put some in here," Roy muttered under his breath.

Ed couldn't stop a shaky laugh. "Right now, I don't think I'd care."

Roy turned a heavy look on him. "You tempt me, Edward," he purred, "but I think you would probably care later. Another time, perhaps."

Ed swallowed, and then that shocking, overwhelming touch returned and his thoughts scattered again. Roy slid Ed's legs apart, pulled down the interfering clothing, and Ed groped after a word for how he felt at that moment... the words were gone.

The rough glove teased him open, and then he felt Roy driving into him, smoother, harder, refining the fire, a stronger shock but with a rhythm this time, and Ed pushed back into the rough movement, adding more and more force until it drove him over the edge and the fire burned out of him.

Ed was fuzzily aware of Roy cleaning them up and refastening clothing, but his head didn't really clear until Roy pulled him down so they both sprawled on the couch.

As Ed's thoughts reordered themselves a picture flashed into his mind, of how he must have looked, spread out and bent over Roy's desk, only the most necessary clothes undone. He could feel his face heating. And, because he tried to be honest with himself, he had to admit that the picture included him enjoying it a very great deal. The word he had been looking for earlier, it occurred to him, was wanton.

Roy's hand turned Ed's face toward him. "Regrets, Edward?" he asked, softly.

"Mm. Not exactly," Ed hedged.

"That's good. I don't believe I could thank you for something you regretted."

Ed, despite his best efforts, could feel himself blushing even more. He looked away. "...you too," he mumbled.

Roy kissed him gently, and then smiled with a very satisfied edge. "Any time."

"Smug bastard," Ed pronounced, feeling his balance return.

Roy's smile took on the hint of a secret.

End

Branch: *hides head in arms* I can't believe you did that! I can't believe I wrote that!

Roy: *one-sided smile* Weren't you the one complaining about us never having straightforward sex?

Branch: Yes, but...!

Ed: *jaundiced* It's no more lurid than some of what Seto is doing with his entire cast.

Branch: Well, no, but...!

Roy: *pats Author's shoulder* Come find us again when you're done blushing, my dear. Come along, Edward.

Ed and Roy: *saunter off*

Branch: *blushes extensively*

The Upper Hand

Roy muses about his personnel management techniques. Drama, I-2.

"You didn't mention that you already knew about the new disturbance down in Lior, Taisa," Havoc observed.

Roy Mustang and his officers strode down the steps of their neighboring country's embassy in East City.

"No, I didn't," Roy agreed, smiling.

Hawkeye sniffed.

"Of course not. You don't gain the upper hand by giving things away, Havoc."

Havoc grunted around his cigarette.

As the party sorted themselves into the two official cars that had brought them from headquarters, Roy contemplated Hawkeye's words.

Normally, they were a truism. But there were times...

Edward Elric was a good example of the rule's reverse. As he was for a good many rules, Roy reflected, a grin tugging at his mouth.

Their liaison was a source of amusement, as well as pleasure and comfort to him. And Roy had noted early on that one of the easiest ways to get the upper hand with Edward was to tell him the absolute truth.

It entertained Roy to no end that he could stop one of Edward's tempers simply by thanking him.

To be sure, part of the effect was probably pure surprise, since Roy rarely dealt so straightforwardly with Edward outside of bed.

There was another level to that, of course, Roy mused watching the city sweep past. Edward placed an extremely high value on truth. Roy often thought that it might be a product of Edward's power. Being so powerful, he had never been tempted to the petty stratagems that those without power resorted to, while also being in a position to see all too much of that pettiness at close range. Edward was the first person Roy had met of whom he might believe that the strength of his spirit was the measure of his power.

The exchange that Roy offered for such intimate knowledge of Edward was to speak the truth to him while they were together.

Which was not to say that the truth was always straightforward, or even that straightforwardness was always straightforward.

Roy smiled.

Edward was not the only example of the rule's reverse, though, he thought, as the cars pulled back up to the military headquarters. The thought lingered, and as they began to part ways at the door of Roy's office he spoke.

"Hawkeye-taii."

His senior aide paused and looked back. "Sir?"

"Sometimes one does, in fact, gain an overwhelming advantage precisely by giving oneself away," he said, slowly.

He waited while surprise, confusion and finally understanding chased each other across her face.

She drew herself up and offered him a salute worthy of the Central parade ground. Her response was low and intense.

"Yes, Taisa."

Roy returned the salute, gravely.

End

Roy: Just for my curiosity, why did you promote Hawkeye but not me?

Branch: Because she rocks my world. She's the kind of muse I can do target practice with.

Roy: *eyes Author thoughtfully* Fair enough.

Branch: *waves, starry-eyed* Hey, Lisa, want to go get a drink?

Lisa: Why not? We're done for the day, right Taisa?

Branch and Lisa: *wander off, arm in arm*

Enough

Ed in a temper, Roy feeling generous. Porn With Purple Insights, I-3.

Prelude

"Now, about young Elric."

Roy tensed invisibly, as General Hakuro paged through one of the folders on the desk he'd taken over for his inspection of East City headquarters.

"Is the boy always this... volatile?"

"What do you mean, General?" Roy asked evenly.

"According to this he burned down the mansion of the Governor of Ketal during an altercation when the Governor's guards found him trespassing."

"After which," Roy pointed out, "it was discovered that the Governor was using his mansion as a clearinghouse for an illegally developed alchemical substance."

Which substance, Roy reflected, was of great interest to the man who had taken over Gran's jurisdiction, however illegal the development process.

Hakuro eyed him. "Did you send him to do this?" he asked softly.

Roy was pleased to vent a perfectly honest laugh. "If I had, I very much doubt he would have arrived in the city any time this month."

"Elric-kun does not take orders well?" Hakuro translated.

Roy pursed his lips judiciously. "Someone with a gift for understatement might put it that way," he allowed.

"Hm. I see."

Roy certainly hoped so.

Hakuro shuffled his papers together and put Edward's folder at the bottom of the stack. Roy suppressed a sigh of relief.

"Very well. You are dismissed."

Roy made his way back to his own office, counting down the days until Hakuro would be off their hands again. Perhaps catching up on his correspondence would relax him.

No sooner had Roy settled down at his desk, though, than a slip of paper puffed into existence above it and fluttered down on top of his other papers. Roy read it, and snorted.

"Well, that should put the cap on everyone's day."

Lude

Ed stalked into the Colonel's office, slammed the door and flung himself down on the couch.

"That was quick," Mustang remarked.

Ed threw an arm over his face. "That Author has the worst timing! I swear she does it on purpose!"

"Headache?" Mustang inquired, sweetly.

Ed snarled.

He heard Roy rise and come around the desk, felt the couch dip as Roy settled beside him, but didn't look or move.

"Are you all right, Edward?"

"Just fine," Ed muttered. "Taisa."

"I'll take that as a no, then." Roy's hand passed over Ed's brow. Ed struck upward, with another snarl.

Roy caught it. Barely. "Edward, why are you here?"

Ed huffed.

"Just a bad mood, then?" Roy suggested.

Ed stared intently away from him.

"So. How is this, then. Just lie still."

Ed slanted a sideways look. "Just that?"

Roy leaned over him, one arm on the back of the couch. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

Ed had his suspicions about any offer Roy Mustang made that sounded like what he wanted. There had to be a catch. But he finally nodded grudging agreement.

Roy started tracing feather-light patterns across Ed's forehead. After a moment's struggle just for form's sake Ed let his eyes drift closed.

Roy's hands passed down his neck, over his shoulders, testing for tension and kneading it away. Ed pulled in deep breath and released it with a sigh. The soothing hands moved to his chest, and then his stomach. The muscles there quivered, and Ed gasped.

"Ssh," Roy whispered to him, "relax, Ed. There's nothing you need to do."

"Mmmh."

Gradually, under Roy's careful hands, Ed's entire body slackened. He lay back on the couch, almost floating except that gravity had such a very good hold on him.

Roy's deep voice spoke by his ear, smooth as his touch. "Tell me if you want me to stop. But there's something I want to show you, my hawk."

Roy's hands were undoing Ed's pants. Ed considered protesting, the remnants of his bad temper stirring, but he was relaxed now and didn't want to change that.

Roy's hands were warm and gentle and the heat of Roy's breath washed over his cock.

"Ahhh..."

Wet heat curled around him, closed over him like deep water. Ed felt entirely underwater, his movement slowed, even his reaction to Roy's mouth on him languid. He sighed and stretched into it as Roy's tongue burned paths up and down, slowly filling him with a heavy heat until it overflowed in long, deep waves.

Ed wallowed in a comfortable daze. He only roused from it when he realized that he was lying reclined against Roy's chest.

"Mmm."

"Feeling better?" There was a chuckle in Roy's voice.

"Mm."

Thought returned slowly. "What about you?" Ed asked.

"I'm fine."

Ed blinked a few times. He turned in Roy's arms to look up at him, puzzled. Roy returned one of his infuriating, unreadable, one-sided smiles, but was apparently inclined to take pity on all forms of Ed's frustration today. Roy cradled Ed's jaw in his hand.

"Perhaps you'll understand later. My lover's pleasure is enough for me, today. To see you so abandoned to pleasure that I brought you..." he kissed Ed, slowly, "...that's enough."

Ed gazed up at him, not knowing what expression might be on his own face.

"Why?"

Roy smiled and settled Ed more comfortably against him. "Rest. My hawk."

As Ed closed his eyes again, he heard Roy whisper, laughing faintly.

"...my fractious, cross-grained gyrfalcon."

End

Ed: Eh?

Roy: *winces* You weren't supposed to hear that.

Branch: For our readers, the significance of the gyrfalcon is documented at this handy site. Ed, don't look yet.

Relaxed

In the National Library. Porn With Insights, I-4.

Ed didn't particularly like the yearly requalifications. In point of fact, he considered them a monumental waste of his time. They did, however, mean time to visit the National Library every year. Spending a few days in the papery, sunlit quiet always relaxed him.

Well, mentally, anyway.

Ed leaned away from his stack of books, stretching his spine over the back of his chair in an attempt to pull out some of the knots.

"You're going to injure yourself one of these days, hunched over like that."

Ed looked around a little too quickly and winced as his neck seized up. "What are you doing in here, anyway?" he grumbled, rubbing at the cramp.

"Escaping from ceremonies. You'll just make it worse like that." Roy Mustang brushed Ed's hand aside, pressed hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and twisted his hand sharply. Ed yelped.

"And that's making it better?!"

"It is, isn't it?"

Ed rotated his head gingerly.

"Of course..."

Ed blinked. Mustang had somehow insinuated himself between Ed and the desk, leaning easily on the latter. He reached down and swiftly pulled Ed up against him, straddling Mustang's legs.

"...a gentle touch has equally useful applications."

Ed was shocked. Roy never got like this in public. And now here they were in the National Library.

"Taisa! What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Everyone else is stuck at the ceremonies, if that's what you're worried about Edward-kun." Roy's hands started rubbing Ed's back.

"That isn't... the point... ohhh..." Ed's protest trailed off. Roy's hands were very strong, and found every knotted muscle, kneading them loose.

"...that feels good," Ed sighed, only half aware that he spoke aloud.

For a while the only sounds in the library were Ed's sighs.

Eventually, though, those sighs took on a different note, and his movement against Roy became less innocent. The more Roy's hands relaxed him the more aware he became that he was draped against Roy, legs spread over Roy's thighs, and that Roy was clearly interested in more than simple massage. Indeed, Roy's hands were sliding down over Ed's rear to pull Ed more firmly against him. Ed's sigh broke.

"So, Edward?" Roy breathed against his ear.

"We're in the library," Ed pointed out, shivering.

"Indeed. A pleasantly deserted library," Roy's purred against Ed's neck and Ed pressed into him, gasping. "And if someone does come in? If someone does see you, naked, spread out under me?"

Ed was torn between two opposing reactions, flinching from Roy's words, and melting under Roy's tone.

"Roy..."

Roy laughed softly. "Well, then, perhaps I'll have to burn them to a cinder for the temerity of hearing your voice like this." His hands returned to Ed's back, stroking, kneading, and Ed wrapped his arms around Roy's shoulders and buried his head in them.

Roy's voice gentled. "No one will come here, Edward. This once, let go. Relax. Let me touch you; let me open you. This once, let me have you without the teasing and the sparks."

If the heat of Roy's body between his legs hadn't been enough, the heat of Roy's voice would have set Ed on fire.

"All right," he whispered, shaking just a little at what Roy was asking from him.

Still. For all his teasing, Roy had never hurt him in any way while they were together like this. And it was exhausting to keep up with the teasing; if Roy wanted to leave it aside this once, Ed supposed he was willing to trust him.

Roy stood, lifting Ed with him, and set Ed down on one of the narrow, blue benches scattered among the carrels. Ed lay and watched as Roy stripped off his clothes, knowing his eyes were wide with his uncertainty. He let Roy undress him, sighing at the brush of his hands. Roy straddled the bench and guided Ed's thighs over his.

Ed was breathing fast, trembling, as Roy kissed him slowly, deep but gentle. Ed leaned up into him.

"Roy... touch me..." Ed was set off balance by the absence of their usual edged words; he wanted the reassurance of Roy's body against him very badly.

"...please..."

A harsh intake of breath answered him, and Roy caught Ed up into his arms, kissing him hard, now. Again, Ed leaned into it, making a soft sound when Roy's tongue stroked his. When Roy let Ed down again he stayed close, and Ed relaxed a little with relief.

"Is this so hard, my hawk?" Roy's thumb stroked over Ed's cheekbone.

Ed shook his head, but found himself completely unable to explain why he was shaking, almost clinging to Roy.

Roy looked down at him, eyes thoughtful. Then he threaded one hand into Ed's hair and tilted his head back against the bench. His teeth closed over Ed's throat.

"Aah!" Ed's spine arched sharply, but he felt the tension in him release, felt the muscles of his stomach and legs relax abruptly. Roy's other hand slid under his back, sustaining the arch. The trembling lessened.

"...naked, spread out under me..." Roy's voice echoed in Ed's ears, and this time the words themselves rippled pleasure through him.

"Roy," he gasped, breathless, "now... please... now."

"Yes," Roy murmured against his throat.

Roy coaxed him to turn over, legs on either side of the bench, and drew him back to the very edge. The sunlight falling across them touched Ed like another hand, gliding over his skin, reminding him of where he was. This was hardly the first time Roy had taken him to bed in daylight, but this...

The idea of it had changed, though. Ed would unquestionably be mortified if someone came in, but to have Roy seek him out here, desire him even here, stroked heat along Ed's nerves.

Roy's fingers touched him, feathered over his bare skin, slid between his legs, and Ed's thoughts were brushed away. Ed moaned as Roy's hand closed over him, rubbing softly; he shifted his hips, spreading his legs wider over the bench.

When Roy pressed forward, Ed was more than ready for him, already open to him, and Roy's thrust sank deep into him.

Ed's moan was lower, husky, as Roy's slow, hard movement pressed him into the bench, into Roy's hand. Roy was fire inside him, spiraling out through him so fast that when it flared Ed could feel Roy still hard in his tightening body, and somehow that drew the fire out until Ed could only lie limp and panting on the bench.

Irrelevant thoughts floated through is mind. The warmth of the sunlight on his back. How irritated the cleaners would likely be over the bench's upholstery. How wonderfully smooth everything had felt...

Suddenly he blinked. Levered himself up on a shaky arm and looked around at Roy, who was leaning against his side. Sure enough, there was a very recognizable small bottle set carefully just under the bench.

Ed started laughing, and his arm refused to hold him up any longer. Roy brushed a hand over Ed's hair.

"What?"

"Do you carry one of those with you everywhere?" Ed gasped out.

"Ever since the contract transfer," Roy confirmed, serene.

Ed heaved a deep breath, getting his laughing back under control, rested his head on his crossed arms.

"So, what ceremony was it you dodged out of?" he asked at last, conversationally.

Roy dropped a kiss on his shoulder.

"Get dressed and I'll tell you."

End

Ed: *eyes story* Was that necessary?

Branch: Well, I kind of needed something to balance out the release of physical resistance in "Rough". It just turned out like this. And I bent one of my own signal rules of smut for the sake of your psychological development, which I hope you appreciate.

Roy: What, embarrassed? Whyever should you be, Edward-kun? *leans against wall* Just because you begged me to take you over a bench in the National Library?

Ed and Branch: *gape at Roy*

Branch: Well! We'll just be off, then, to let Roy recover from his testosterone poisoning... or whatever's gotten into him...

Gift

Ed finds things out about Roy's plans, Roy gets a surprise. Plot With Porn, I-4.

Part One

Roy Mustang's visitor was finally leaving, something for which Ed was profoundly grateful. The man had been underfoot for days, making bad jokes, getting dire glares from Hawkeye, and poking into everything. He didn't seem to be attached to the military. Or to anyone within the military except Mustang. How he had managed to collect the entire command staff, plus Ed, to see him off was a mystery.

"Oh, and I almost forgot, Carl finally got back to me about your request!"

"And?" Mustang inquired.

"He says he doesn't think they have the right food for gyrfalcons in his area, but he'll keep looking."

Mustang nodded.

Ed assuaged his irritation with the reflection that the man had mangled the pronunciation of "gyrfalcon". It didn't help a great deal. Fortunately, they managed to edge him out the door without too much further conversation. Ed heaved a sigh of relief.

Gyrfalcon... Ed wondered, idly, where had he learned how to pronounce that word. He remembered hearing it spoken. Who...?

"... my hawk... my fractious, cross-grained gyrfalcon."

Ed stopped dead in the middle of the hall.

What had the man said?

"...food for gyrfalcons..."

And where he had read the word...

"...the king may fly a gyrfalcon..."

"Taisa," Ed whispered, and then took a breath and almost shouted. "Taisa!"

Mustang turned, brows raised.

Ed strode through the other officers and caught Mustang's arm. His voice was barely audible. "Taisa, what are you doing?"

Mustang's eyes narrowed, and Ed was aware of sharp glances being exchanged around him. His eyes never left the Colonel's. It was a long moment before Mustang spoke, almost as quietly as Ed had whispered.

"Not here."

They were arrayed in Mustang's office before anyone spoke again. Mustang stood at the window, one hand on the glass. "Why do you ask now, Edward-kun?"

Ed, practically vibrating between the need to pace and the need to wring an answer out of his commander, spoke between his teeth. "Gyrfalcon. The bird a king flies."

Mustang bowed his head briefly, smile wry. "I should have known you'd remember that."

"Taisa...!" Edward reached out a hand, useless as that was with three meters of space between them.

Mustang sighed and straightened.

"This nation is broken, Edward-kun," he said, even and cool. "Surely you've noticed it. How many uprisings and civil wars have we had in the past twenty years? No country so troubled over its government should have lasted. Yet we have. Each time there's a rift it's patched over, each time the citizens rise the military puts them down. Successfully. Because of us."

He turned to look full at Ed, and Ed swallowed hard at the coldness in his eyes.

"The military succeeds because of the State Alchemists within its ranks."

Mustang turned away again and Ed found himself shaking from the force of the gaze now withdrawn.

"It cannot continue. It must not continue."

"Then why," Ed hesitated, then forged on, "why do you stay?"

Mustang was silent a moment, and then let out a breath that sounded pained. "Because," he replied, voice low, "only a military officer of the highest rank who is also an alchemist of considerable power could come close enough to Dai-Soutou Bradley to remove him and still hope to control the military through the upheaval afterward."

"...remove...?" Ed whispered.

Mustang leaned his forehead against the glass. "Kill. Most likely."

Ed was shaking again, fighting to breathe past his shock.

"I hadn't intended you to know any of this," Mustang continued, quietly. "You have a long history of doing things your own way without regard for politics of any kind. They would believe your innocence, and your power is too much a prize for them to kill you just as an example. If I fail."

"Then what am I in this?" Ed wanted to know. "Why have you kept me in your command? Everyone else knows about this, don't they?" He waved at Hawkeye and Havoc, who both nodded soberly.

"Long before you arrived," Hawkeye confirmed. "He chose us as his staff because we agree that something needs to be done. Soon."

"Told you that first day," Havoc reminded him. "If it was just ambition for more rank we wouldn't follow him."

Mustang looked over his shoulder, smiling at Ed. For some reason that made the shaking worse.

"Ah, Edward. You are my hunter. Wherever you go you have a remarkable knack for turning up the secrets and breaks, for stirring things up, for setting people in motion. And then, too..." Mustang turned away again. "You are my example. I didn't want to tell you this. I didn't want to darken you."

Ed pressed a hand hard against his mouth, staring sightlessly ahead of him.

"If you don't wish to be involved in such a thing I can transfer you to someone else's command." Hawkeye stirred, and Mustang waved her back. "Even if he leaves us I don't believe Edward-kun will say anything."

Memories returned to Ed, fragmented. The distant look in Ryla's eyes as she attacked unarmed men for raising their hands to a corrupt officer; the matter-of-fact insanity of a man who had lost everything at the hands of a State Alchemist; Gran's eyes; Rose's eyes; Al's eyes, so long ago.

Roy Mustang, urbane and mocking and careless; surrounded in flames; smiling, knowing, as he sent Ed off with another lead; shadowed, troubled, as he turned away from Ed's questions; strange and distant as he spoke of Ed's brightness; laughing as he called Ed his hawk and named himself Ed's falconer.

Standing at the window, straight and calm, waiting.

Ed came to him, stood in front of him looking up intently.

"I will fly for you. Taisa."

Over Mustang's shoulder he saw Hawkeye and Havoc exchanging puzzled looks. It didn't matter. Mustang sighed, laying his hands on Ed's shoulders.

"Thank you, Edward."

Ed nodded, saluted, and walked out of the office and down the hall to one of the spare rooms where he collapsed into a chair and sat, shaking, for a long time.

Part Two

It had been a very long day by the time Roy trudged home, but he couldn't quite face the idea of staying at headquarters tonight. Not with the echoes of his confrontation with Edward lingering there. Home meant peace and quiet, however temporary.

He left a trail of uniform pieces down the upstairs hallway, and was down to shirt and pants by the time he reached his bedroom. He leaned in the doorway to pull off his socks.

When he straightened up, though, he had to stop and blink at the bed a few times.

The image of Edward Elric sitting shirtless and cross legged on his bed did not go away.

Roy crossed the room slowly and looked down at him. "Edward?" It took a moment to dredge up an appropriate remark. "Was there a notice from That Author that I somehow missed?"

Edward's voice was low and clear. "We're off script. You know that. Forget the excuses." He unfolded himself to kneel upright, took Roy's face between his hands, kissed him. There was strangeness in the kiss, utterly focused yet somehow not demanding anything at all.

Edward let him go, caught up his hands, kissed them as well.

"Edward?" Roy was entirely bemused.

Ed took Roy's fingers in his mouth, one by one, tasting them, sucking lightly on the fingertips. He turned Roy's hands over, and Roy felt his tongue moving across the palms. Roy's breath started to get uneven.

When Edward looked up his mouth was very serious, and there was an entreaty in the gold eyes at odds with his evident aggressiveness. He pulled gently on Roy's wrists until Roy sat on the bed beside him.

Edward straddled his legs and undid Roy's shirt, paying great attention to each button, and brushed it off his shoulders. He leaned into Roy, and Roy, now very curious, in a slightly light-headed way, to see where this was going, let Edward press him down.

Edward's head bowed over Roy's chest, and Roy sighed a bit under the open-mouthed kisses and gentle nips that tracked down his body. Edward undid the button at Roy's waist and paused. Roy looked down just in time to catch Ed's wicked smile before he took Roy's zipper in his teeth to pull it down.

The heat of his mouth so close pulled a harsh breath from Roy.

The last of the clothing dispensed with, Edward stroked the inside of Roy's knee, and Roy, after a thoughtful moment, opened his legs for him. Edward bent over him and took Roy's cock in his mouth, toying with him as he had with Roy's hands earlier.

Roy sank down into the heat with a moan.

Before too long, though, Edward drew back and stretched himself beside Roy, pressing more of those strange kisses to his neck. At some point in the proceedings he'd managed to get off the rest of his own clothes. Roy was impressed.

"Taisa."

"Mmm?"

"Roy."

The intensity of Ed's voice pulled Roy's eyes open. Edward's fingers brushed his lips.

"...what do you want?"

Roy knew, looking in Edward's eyes, that whatever he wanted Edward would do tonight. That this was the point of the apparent seduction. That was the strangeness in his kisses. A gift Ed had chosen to give him.

Anything he wanted. What did he want?

Well... the way Edward had been going had a certain appeal. It had been a long time, certainly, but it was something he'd enjoyed in the right mood.

Roy laughed, and pulled Edward into his arms. "I want to feel the touch of another human being. Everywhere."

It took Edward a moment to unravel that, and then he stiffened, staring down at Roy. "You really...?"

Roy smiled lazily up at him. "Yes."

He half expected to see that spark of challenge that sometimes lit Edward's eye around him, but the serious intentness never flickered. Roy's own expression softened. "Edward," he whispered, drawing a thumb over Edward's lower lip. His voice deepened.

"Kiss me."

Ed shivered and came to him.

After a few breathless minutes, he glanced over at the nightstand and then back at Roy. "Where?"

"Second drawer."

"What," Edward muttered, rummaging, "not the first?"

Roy chuckled. "I never expected to have you in this bed, Impatience."

Ed, leaning back over him, offered a sly smile. "Are you now?" he breathed against Roy's mouth.

"Ask me again after," Roy replied, just as soft.

Edward knelt between Roy's legs and reached under him.

"Mmmmm."

Roy lay back as warmth rippled out from Edward's slow fingers. It took a little while for him to relax, but Edward, possibly from his own nervousness, didn't rush. His touch was remarkably gentle, and Roy spread his legs wider to encourage him.

And then he felt something cool, hard. It took a shocked second to identify it.

The fingers of Edward's right hand.

Roy arched up off the bed as they pressed into him, an icy tingle shooting down his nerves. "Ha...! ... Ed..." The heat of Ed's mouth closed over his cock again, and the contrast drowned his senses. "Ed..."

Finally Edward drew back for a moment, laying a hand on Roy's chest. "Taisa?"

Roy's voice came from deep in his chest. "Oh yes."

Ed's eyes burned, and Roy suspected they only reflected his own.

Edward shifted and his cock pressed against Roy, and Roy's hands closed hard on the sheets. Slowly, slowly warmth and hardness pushed in, and he could hear Edward's breath hissing through clenched teeth, and then the strange moment of release and capture, and Edward gasped.

Sliding heat. Roy stretched back with a long breath, disconnected shivers dancing over him. He opened his eyes and smiled, because Edward's expression was that of someone who had just completed a complex calculation to his satisfaction.

The calculation was apparently one of angles and forces, because Edward shifted inside him and fire plunged up Roy's spine. Ed's hand wrapped around him, and Roy shuddered.

Ed's touches were slick and hard, and Roy let himself stretch open into them, let them fire his body, let them drive him beyond himself and release him into surging brilliance.

As he caught his breath again afterward Roy pulled Edward down to him before he collapsed. They lay, legs tangled, pressed against each other.

"Was there any particular reason for this?" Roy asked at last.

Ed shrugged one shoulder, glancing up from Roy's chest. It seemed that however their lovemaking went that was Edward's favored pillow after. "I said that I would fly for you," he answered slowly, "but it wasn't... enough. For what you're doing. For what you've given. It wasn't enough." He tucked his chin down. "You said I might understand later. Maybe it's later."

Roy remembered his words to Edward one especially bad-tempered day in his office. "My hawk..." When Edward looked up Roy kissed him as if he meant to inhale Edward's breath and soul.

"Thank you, Edward, for a magnificent gift," he whispered.

If Edward saw the gleam of wetness in Roy's eyes before he turned his face into Edward's hair he gave no indication of it then or later.

End

Branch: *fans self* Wow! Maybe we should try that another time, hey guys?

Roy: *insufferably smug*

Ed: *panting* You've got to be joking! He's twice as demanding like this!

Branch: *wheedling* Ah, come on, Ed, wasn't it fun?

Ed: *grumpy* Well, yes, I suppose. Maybe.

Roy: So, Edward-kun, what do you think? Did I have you?

Ed: *pointedly not answering*

Rare

A pleasant end to a trying day. Porn Without Plot, I-4.

Ed padded, barefoot, into Roy's living room, still toweling his hair.

"Next time Hawkeye asks me to go with you for a routine inspection because she's busy and you know what he's like, Edward-kun, remind me of this," he grumbled.

Roy cast a look over his shoulder at the second line Ed quoted, mouth open to comment, and paused. A corner of his mouth curled up. Ed grinned behind the towel. When he'd rummaged through Roy's closet, not fancying wearing a couple of towels until his clothes dried, he'd found two robes. One was soft but practical terrycloth; the other was lush, double-sided velvet. Ed had promptly taken the second.

After the day he'd had, he thought he deserved it.

Roy, he noticed, had lost no time lighting a fire in his rather extravagant fireplace and had already shed most of his bedraggled uniform. The latter came especially to Ed's attention as Roy rose and paced toward him, firelight sliding across his skin.

"So," Roy purred, "you approve of my hedonism, I believe you called it the other day, if you can take advantage of it?" His touch moved the velvet across Ed's back and sides, and Ed couldn't stop a sensuous stretch under Roy's hands.

"Mmm," he agreed, looking up through his lashes.

Roy pressed him close, slowly, bent to brush his lips over Ed's, light, teasing, until Ed reached up and pulled him down hard against his open mouth. Roy's tongue on his was warm and soft, rather like the velvet, and Ed leaned into the kiss as Roy's hands slipped over his hips, up his back...

And Roy drew back, stepped around Ed and strolled for the door.

"I trust you left me some hot water," he tossed back over his shoulder.

Ed shut his gaping mouth with a snap. "You are a complete bastard," he declared with conviction.

A low laugh echoed down the hall.

Ed flung himself down in front of the fire. It had just been that kind of day. The trip out to the garrison three towns away had only been boring. The fawning of the garrison commander had raised the ante to nauseating. Then it started raining. And on the way back, three miles outside of the city, the car had run out of gas and Roy, in a fit of caution, had refused to let Ed transmute more. So they had walked, or more exactly slogged, the entire way back because no one else was stupid enough to be out in the freezing cold rain. That was enough to advance the day to utterly miserable in Ed's book. He suspected, darkly, that That Author had something to do with it; this was just the kind of set-up she liked.

At least Roy had given him the first shower.

And there must be three rugs layered over the spot in front of the fire, because it was comfier than the couch.

And the fire was warming his automail up nicely, which was finally stopping the ache around the ports.

Ed didn't realize he had dozed off until Roy's returning tread woke him. He opened his eyes to find Roy, in the terrycloth robe a corner of his mind was amused to note, standing over him with the air of a man arrested mid-motion. Ed realized why when Roy sat down beside him and started running his fingers through Ed's loose hair. He really didn't understand this thing Roy had with his hair, but he wasn't complaining. He stretched, wriggling against the softness of the robe.

And then Roy's fingers found his ears.

Ed would never have credited it if Roy hadn't demonstrated first and explained second, but having his ears rubbed felt absolutely wonderful. It made all the tension in his head and neck go away. It made his shoulders tickle and relax. It made his toes curl.

Ed was fairly sure he made tiny humming noises the entire time, given the way Roy was always laughing afterward, but he couldn't hear himself to tell for sure and really didn't care because it felt so good.

At last Roy stopped, leaving Ed a warm puddle of happiness. Roy leaned down to collect a quick kiss. "In a better mood now?" he inquired, chuckling.

Ed pulled a thoughtful face and looked up at him. "Some, I suppose," he answered loftily.

A glint entered Roy's eye. "Well, we'll just have to keep working on that, hm?"

He trailed a hand down Ed's body and lifted, rather to Ed's confusion, his right foot. What now? Ed wondered. He must have looked as confused as he felt because Roy flashed him a wicked smirk.

Then his mouth closed over Ed's toes.

A shiver ran the entire length of Ed's body, and his eyes widened. The intensity of sensation shocked him, the soft, silky warmth overwhelming every other sense message and echoing down every nerve. When Roy sucked gently on his toes Ed gasped. When Roy's tongue slid over his instep Ed let his head fall back, feeling very much as if Roy's tongue were sliding down another body part entirely. It was almost unbearably ticklish, and almost unbearably pleasurable, and Ed couldn't keep still, his whole body twisting as he tried to feel it as one or the other. Roy didn't let go until Ed was panting for breath, fingers dug into the carpet.

Ed shuddered as he relaxed from that knife edge of sensation. Roy leaned beside him looking faintly smug.

"Feet are a great deal more sensitive than most people ever realize," he remarked conversationally.

"I noticed," Ed told him with as much snap as he could muster.

Which wasn't much just then, but it was the principle of the thing.

Ed answered languidly when Roy kissed him; the relaxation after that much tension was making him feel just a bit... floaty. Roy propped his head on one hand and gave Ed a speculative look. "And would you be willing to try a little experiment, my hawk?"

If Roy was calling him that there was only one kind of experiment it could be. Well, the last one had been enjoyable... "Sure."

Roy unwrapped the robe, laying it open, and slipped it off Ed's shoulders. "Turn over," he murmured.

Ed sighed as his lingering hardness pressed against the velvet. Roy nudged his legs apart, kneeling between them, and Ed shivered. Roy's hands passed over his rear lightly, spread him open. The heat of Roy's breath sighed over him, and Ed sucked in a breath of his own only to lose it when the soft warmth of Roy's tongue melted across his skin.

The gentle, coaxing slide unstrung him entirely, and Ed's body opened for that softness, his legs spreading wider, his muscles turning to butter. Roy's weight kept Ed pressed to the velvet under him, and the feeling as he moved against it was so like Roy's tongue against his entrance that Ed shuddered, which only intensified the feeling.

The movement of Roy's tongue changed, became firmer, no longer stroking but circling and pressing, and Ed moaned, pushing back, asking for more. Roy's tongue flirted with him, pressing into him and flicking away, curling against skin that felt on fire.

"Roy...!" Ed couldn't manage any more coherence than that; fortunately, Roy had become reasonably adept at recognizing that particular tone in Ed's voice. With a last, lingering caress he drew back and stretched out against Ed's side as he collapsed.

"If you want more than that we need to move to the bedroom," Roy said in Ed's ear.

Ed considered this, a bit hazily. Yes, he certainly did want more, but he didn't really want to move. Here and now he was in a bubble of wonderful lassitude that he was sure would break if he got up. So he twisted around just far enough to slide his left hand up Roy's cheek.

"No."

Roy blinked at him. "Edward, there's nothing here..."

"I know," Ed answered, a grin tugging at his mouth. Roy's voice echoed in his memory: Another time, perhaps. "Here, Roy. Now."

Roy looked at him silently for a moment, eyes turning darker as he understood. A hungry smile curved his lips before he turned his head to kiss Ed's palm. He let his own robe slide off and moved between Ed's legs again, kneeling back and pulling Ed with him to straddle his lap.

"Tell me if this hurts you at all," he said softly.

Ed tipped his head back until it rested on Roy's shoulder. He was definitely floating now, almost laughing. "You won't," he told Roy, voice husky from the arch of his neck, or perhaps from the feeling of Roy pressed against him.

Roy leaned forward, pushing Ed with him until Ed had to catch himself on his hands. Roy's thumbs stroked down his back, down, parting him, and Ed felt Roy pressing into him, smooth and solid. He clung to the openness Roy's tongue had left him with and slowly, slowly, Roy was inside him.

Ed remembered the feeling of Roy's gloved fingers in him, and this was like that, only more. It was so rough, so hot, this feeling like individual nerves striking sparks as Roy's cock slid over each one, and finally his back was pressed hard against Roy's chest, and Roy's arms were around him. He could feel Roy trembling; or maybe it was himself.

"Ed?" Roy asked, voice low and burning.

"Don't stop," Ed whispered.

Roy's hands stroked down his stomach, between his legs, coaxing his hips forward as Roy drew back, and Ed lost himself in the intimate, intense friction of Roy inside him, the smooth, teasing touch of Roy's fingers fondling him, the shuddering fire that raced down his veins, building slowly, slowly, until it finally released him with enough force to stop his breath.

When he could tell that he was breathing again, Ed realized that he was still kneeling over Roy's lap, and that Roy's arms were tight around him, supporting him, and that Roy was leaning his cheek on Ed's left shoulder, looking toward the fire. Ed stirred, and made a small sound at the feeling of Roy still inside him.

"Is everything all right?" Roy murmured into Ed's shoulder.

"Mmmmm. Very much." Ed basked in the heat from the fire, and the softness of velvet under his knees, and the sleek planes of Roy's body against his back. "You worry too much," he added as the faint concern in Roy's voice registered.

"Not everyone enjoys that, my hawk, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Did I sound like I wasn't enjoying myself?" Ed demanded.

"Well, no," Roy had to admit, and Ed could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well, then." Ed drew away and curled up on a dry section of the robe before tugging Roy down and wrapping the man's arms back around himself.

Taken all together, he reflected as he started to drift off, the day had probably come out even after all.

End

Branch: *whistles* That was some PWP, guys.

Roy: Well, the plot bunnies appear to be busy mating with the angst bunnies, so I suppose all your creativity focused on this one point.

Ed: Creativity, hm? Is that what they're calling it now?

Branch: *examining nails* You know, Ed, you shouldn't slander the focus that just might go toward the violin-bunny next. You know, the one where you get to be on top again?

Ed: *freezes* Really? You're not just stringing me along, here?

Branch: *small, evil smile* Maybe.

Ed: *glares at Roy* This is all your fault. You're rubbing off on her.

Rosin

Roy considers some of the difficulties of his relationship with Ed. Light Purple Drama, I-3.

"...that only leaves Ausred. Rumors say that the research center there has been reopened, but the Alchemist supposedly in charge is someone who's been dead for two years." Hawkeye passed her notes over to Roy.

"Hm." He paged through them. "None of my correspondents are in that area, are they?"

"No, sir, and few are in a good position to move from what Fury says." She narrowed her eyes in thought. "Taisa, what about Edward-kun? This is the kind of rumor he might reasonably have an interest in." Roy smiled.

"True enough. I believe he cleared out one of the storerooms, today, for experiments. Ask him to speak with me when he's done."

"Yes, sir."

Roy contemplated the Captain's solution as she left. It should work. Edward's interest would be unremarkable, and if anyone could kick the truth to the surface, it was his hunter.

His knowing, willing hunter.

It still surprised Roy that Edward had given himself to Roy's cause. He knew Edward was uncomfortable with what Roy meant to do, but he hadn't truly expected even tolerance. The most he had hoped for was Edward's silence after he left. His long familiarity with Edward's steel sense of ethics had not led him to expect the young man to condone cold-blooded murder. Edward's offer of allegiance had both comforted and worried him.

On his darker nights, Roy wondered if Edward had confused desire for his lover with approval for his leader.

It had not surprised him, at the beginning, that Edward had let Roy take him to bed. Roy knew perfectly well that he was a skilled lover, and he had been careful with Edward. Careful not to alarm or completely overwhelm him. Careful not to let their time in bed affect their relationship at work. Too much. And despite Edward's occasional grumbles about how no contract was worth putting up with Roy's ego, it was clear that Edward was enjoying their liaison.

If he had know, then, where it would lead them Roy might have chosen to break the contract himself.

Because it had all become tangled. The unthinking purity of Edward's response to him had drawn Roy, bound him to Ed more tightly than any other lover ever had. And the more he had seen of that bright spirit, the closer he had come, the more he had found himself relaxing into Ed's trust. He knew that it was not a good idea to relax, and still couldn't seem to stop himself.

At the start, eight years ago, Edward's sense of rightness had been a useful extra. Roy had used him as a dowsing rod, to tell where corruption had spread. Half the time just giving Edward his head had solved the problem, too.

So why hadn't Edward rejected the cold expediency of Roy's plans? Roy couldn't deny that Edward's acceptance had soothed him, comforted him with a gut-level assurance that what he did was right. He had spent too long contemplating the dirtiness of his own methods to accept that comfort easily, but Roy had come to rely on it more than he knew he should.

Had Edward's trust of Roy's touch led him to trust Roy's integrity? Was that all that had led him to it?

Could Roy really face drawing back, if that was what it took to leave his hunter's judgment unimpaired?

Roy started a bit when a knock sounded at his door, followed by Edward himself.

"Taisa, Hawkeye-taii said you wanted to see me."

Roy held out his hand. Edward tilted his head, curiously, but crossed the room and let Roy pull him down to a kiss.

"Should I have locked the door behind me?" Edward asked against Roy's lips, sounding amused. Roy didn't answer. He drew back to look at Edward, grateful that the afternoon sun would be in Ed's eyes and he wouldn't see the uncertainty in Roy's.

"May I hold you for a little while, my hawk?" he asked softly. Ed looked at him wordlessly for a moment, perhaps a bit taken aback, but settled into Roy's arms willingly enough. Roy suppressed a shiver as Ed casually rested his cheek against Roy's hair.

The thought of letting go, permanently, affected him with something uncomfortably like panic. Roy didn't like losing control that way, but he had yet to see any solution. For now he simply bore with it, and hoped a solution would present itself in time.

He leaned his head against Ed's shoulder and closed his eyes.

End

Title Note: Rosin is powdered pine sap (fir, I believe). It is used, among other things, on the bows of stringed instruments to provide the right amount of friction against the strings. Without this it is far more difficult to control the sound and shape it into accurate or complex music.

Sustained

When it comes down to action everyone has to find a way to handle the stress. Plot With Porn, I-4.

- Associated fanart: Roy with Violin by Hikariblue

When he got the note that Mustang wanted to see both Ed and his staff in his office, Ed figured it was probably bad news. Mustang's expression certainly seemed to confirm it, mouth tight and eyes distant. His first words sounded like good news, though.

"We're being recalled for assignment in Central again."

"What area?" Havoc wanted to know.

The tight mouth twisted. "Administration. Precisely what I hoped for."

Everyone looked at each other, and then back at their commander, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"According to my network," Mustang went on, "Bradley will be making an unannounced visit here in three days." He looked down at his hands, braced flat on his desk. "I will be going to Altlast to meet him before he arrives in East City."

"Alone?" Hawkeye asked, sharply. Mustang's expression stilled.

"No. You'll be coming with me."

Hawkeye relaxed, but Ed also noticed her eyes narrowing and her right hand tensing. His stomach lurched, and his gaze snapped around to Mustang.

"It's time." Those two quiet words echoed through the room. Or maybe it was just inside Ed's head. About once every week or so he remembered that he'd given his loyalty to a man who intended to assassinate their head of state. He generally shoved the memory back in its box as quickly as he could, because it made his stomach twist. Somehow, he didn't think that was going to work this time.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why now?"

Mustang's mouth drew down before he sighed and answered. "Because he's coming for me. Everything points toward him suspecting what I've been doing, and coming to catch me at a moment of disorganization and confusion to confirm it."

And if he confirmed it... Ed shivered and lowered his head, suddenly wishing that Al were here for him to lean against, and in the next instant fervently grateful that Al wasn't here and wouldn't be involved.

"I need the rest of you to conceal the fact that we're gone," Mustang continued, quietly.

Havoc whistled. "Tall order." He contemplated his cigarette for a few moments, thinking, before he nodded. "I think we can do it; it'll take a little character assassination, though." He grinned at Hawkeye.

"How so?" she asked, warily.

"Hell, no one wants to be anywhere you can see them when you're in a bad mood," Havoc grinned. "All we have to do is act scared and no one will come near this office."

Hawkeye's expression chilled.

"Er, case in point, ma'am?" Fury pointed out tentatively.

"We will take what advantages present themselves," Mustang said. Hawkeye glared at her smirking superior a moment before she sniffed and settled.

Ed listened with half an ear as deadly serious strategy was jokingly debated. He didn't think he was the only one made queasy by this whole thing, but you would never have known it by their tones. Ed found himself looking at Mustang's hands, eyes tracing the circle on the back of his glove, thinking about the fire that would leap out from it. A visceral memory of that glove moving down his back washed through him, and Ed had to take a few deep breaths to keep from choking on that juxtaposition. What was he doing involved in this? Finally, Mustang turned to him.

"If the timing could look anything but suspicious, I would send you away, but that isn't possible. I want you to keep as low a profile as you can until this is over, though. If you have some research that's been waiting, that would be perfect."

Ed leveled an evil glare at him, suddenly angry at Mustang for repeating his own thoughts. For offering him such an escape. For taking all the danger on himself. "You would send me away?" he repeated, voice grating.

Mustang's gaze turned piercing, and his tone took on the edge of command that he rarely used with Ed. "You will not be involved in this."

"You think I want to be?" Ed snapped, swinging sharply back to his original distaste. Mustang's face closed, his eyes frozen now.

"Do you think I do either?" he asked in a perfectly conversational voice.

"No, that's not...!" Ed broke off, not wanting to try to untangle his revulsion and fury and fear in front of their current audience. Roy's expression was very distant, now, and Ed's fear for him gained the upper hand.

"Sometimes problems solve each other," Roy murmured in such a detached voice that ice threaded down Ed's spine. He recognized that voice. He'd never heard Roy use it, but he remembered it. Years ago, in the rain, the offer of a trade... Al had been so furious with him after. Ed could feel that fury in his own chest now. Roy couldn't possibly mean to...

Ed pulled in a deep breath, not at all sure what he wanted to say with it. Before he could decide, or, alternatively, howl with frustration, Hawkeye stepped in front of him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Edward-kun." When Ed looked in her eyes he saw a promise there, to guard Roy's life as she had for years, and a request that he trust her. Did she hear it too? Would she guard Roy from himself? Ed chewed on his lip, and eventually nodded. Hawkeye nodded, firmly, back.

As they all left the office, Ed felt Mustang's eyes on him.

Ed trudged down the street, hands in his pockets.

It had only taken about forty-five minutes of watching him pace the room, stopping at unpredictable moments to stare at nothing, before Al had thrown him out. Well, all right, Al hadn't actually thrown him out, but his brother's voice had been more than usually exasperated when he told Ed that he should just go talk to Mustang-taisa already. Because that man was the only thing that ever got his older brother so wound up.

Al was right, and Ed had to find out what was going on with Mustang. Why had he spoken like that, earlier? Could he honestly think it would serve something if he didn't come back? Who else did the idiot man expect to pick up the pieces?

There was no answer when Ed knocked at Mustang's door, so he let himself in. He could hear, faintly, music coming from upstairs, and followed it. When he found the source he stopped short in the door of Roy's bedroom.

Roy was perched in the broad window ledge that usually served as an auxiliary desk, and he had a violin tucked under his chin. His fingers slid smoothly over the neck, other hand sweeping the bow across the strings. Delicate, ringing notes swirled through the room.

At the scuff of Ed's boots, Roy looked up, music pausing. Ed was seized with the fear that Roy was sufficiently withdrawn, or upset, or unbalanced, or whatever the hell he was that he would turn away. That he would hide this revelation.

"Don't stop," Ed breathed, barely audible even in the sudden silence. After a still moment, a tiny smile crossed Roy's lips, and he closed his eyes again. His hands slowed, the returning music softer than before.

Ed stayed where he was, entranced. He had seen Roy concentrating before, but never with such emotion. His face showed nothing, but the changing tones of the music set Roy himself on display, sharp, languorous, dark, dancing. Pure. One last note was drawn out, sustained without break for so long Ed saw spots because he'd been holding his breath, waiting for it to end.

As Roy started to pack the instrument away again the passion faded out of the room. Ed didn't want it to go, didn't like the distant look that was back in Roy's eyes. He wanted to call back the brilliant intensity that had surrounded Roy while he played.

Well... there was another set of circumstances under which Roy often showed him something similar. And despite Roy's past claims of not being a sex maniac, it was an offer he never hesitated to accept when Ed made it. And then, maybe, he would be here and warm and... alive again.

As Roy settled, a bit wearily perhaps, on the foot of his bed, Ed came to him and lifted Roy's left hand.

"So that's where these came from," he said softly, brushing his thumb across the calluses on Roy's fingertips. Roy only lifted one shoulder, sketching a shrug.

"I haven't played often lately; they'll hurt tomorrow, a little." Ed was really starting to dislike the detachment in Roy's eyes. Time for a more direct approach, then.

"If you die doing this, the way you think you're going to," Ed growled, lifting Roy's chin until they were eye to eye, "I swear I'll bind your soul to your damn desk, and you'll spend the rest of eternity buried in paperwork."

That got a brief laugh, and Roy's eyes warmed, but he still didn't reach out for Ed and Ed was tired of waiting. He slid one knee onto the bed and closed the distance between them, the hand under Roy's chin tilting his head further back so that Ed could kiss him properly. Roy stiffened for a heartbeat, two, five, and then, surprising Ed yet again, relaxed, opening his mouth under Ed's. If Ed had expected anything, it was for Roy to react by pulling him down to the bed and kissing him senseless in retaliation. Instead, when they broke apart, Roy leaned back on his elbows, watching Ed from under his lashes.

With a mental shrug, Ed decided he could work with that, too. It wasn't the first time Roy had given him the come-hither routine. He toed off his boots as he climbed all the way onto the bed to kneel over Roy's hips. As an after-thought he got rid of his shirt, also. Roy did nothing as Ed unbuttoned his shirt as well, only watched with an odd waiting expression until Ed pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Then he stretched under Ed, curving his back, baring the line of his throat.

Ed paused. Did he...? Was he...? To test the hypothesis forming in the back of his mind, Ed leaned down and kissed the underside of Roy's jaw. Roy responded with a low sigh, letting his head fall back still further.

As if to let Ed take the lead. A tingle shot down Ed's nerves. He had thought about this before, but the only time Roy had ever invited it had been... different. That had been Ed's gift to Roy, and Roy had still been the one directing things. Now...

Why now? Did Roy simply want to return the gift?

"Roy," Ed murmured against his neck, "are you serious?"

"Are you?" Roy returned, with no inflection at all.

Ed considered for about half a second. Was he serious about making love to Roy? Easy answer. He leaned up and kissed Roy fiercely. "Yes."

When Roy opened his eyes and looked up at Ed he was completely present again, eyes heated. "Then don't stop," he whispered. Ed smiled slowly.

"I won't."

Ed trailed open-mouthed kisses across Roy's chest, and slid the fingers of his right hand, lightly, down Roy's spine. Roy arched up into him and moaned softly. Ed had to rein back an answer in his own throat at that husky sound; he couldn't remember Roy ever being so responsive so quickly before.

But, then, Ed had never been near while Roy prepared to kill someone. Maybe Roy needed to not think, tonight, needed to only feel. Needed to let someone else do the planning and maneuvering and considering.

Like how to best get their damn pants off. Ed growled a bit over the recalcitrant buttons.

He was interested to note, though, the way Roy gasped when Ed's metal fingers brushed against his stomach. He trailed them deliberately over Roy's hip, and a shudder swept through Roy. Ed smiled wickedly and set out to tease, little, random brushes of chill metal catching Roy's breath again and again while Ed's left palm slid, firm and slow, over Roy's skin, soothing. Roy's answer to Ed's kiss was a little wild, now, but his hands stayed light where they grasped Ed's hips.

Ed was discovering a few new things about Roy's body. He'd known that Roy's sensitive spots included the hollow of his shoulder and the palms of his hands. He'd known that Roy's ribs were usefully ticklish. He hadn't known that Roy liked to feel teeth on his throat, though he might have guessed that. He certainly hadn't known that rubbing the tendon that ran up the inside of Roy's thigh turned him limp and boneless.

Of course that only lasted until Ed ran his right thumb, delicately, up and down Roy's hardening length, and Roy arched up off the bed, every muscle tensed.

Ed understood, now, why Roy concentrated so intently on him when they were in bed. He'd known how overwhelming it was to experience the play of tension and relaxation, of building pleasure, but to watch it happening, to watch his own hands calling it out of Roy's body, fascinated him. The image of Roy calling music out of the violin flashed through Ed's mind.

He leaned over Roy, sliding his right hand between Roy's legs, back, parting him. Roy stretched, spreading his legs, inviting Ed further. But Ed kept his touch light, circling, never quite entering Roy's body. Roy twisted under him, panting for breath now, eyes closed, lips parted, and Ed had a hard time pulling his attention away long enough to fish in the nightstand and find a familiar bottle by touch.

He had no idea how Roy managed these things one handed. Ed used his teeth to help him open it.

And then he hesitated.

He knew that the sensible thing to do would be to go slow. The one other time they had done this it had taken a while for Roy to relax, and Ed certainly didn't want to hurt his lover. But the line of Roy's body, the flex of his hips as Ed's fingers slid into him, was suggesting something else, suggesting a welcome that sparked a fire in the pit of Ed's stomach.

The heat in Roy's eyes when he opened them only fanned it higher.

"Ed," Roy whispered, "now. Now." There was a tone in that velvet and steel voice Ed was far more used to hearing in his own. Need. Entreaty. It drew him like iron to a magnet. Screw slow, then.

Ed ran his hands up the backs of Roy's legs, and pressed into him, steady, deep. Roy's body let him in, heat so tight around him that Ed felt sweat starting on his skin.

"Yes," Roy breathed. "...yes..." There were more words, low and rough, but the hot shift of Roy's body drowned them out. Ed already knew what they came down to anyway; Roy had said it earlier.

Don't stop.

Ed bit his lip, no longer completely in control of his own movement as his hips flexed to drive him into the grip of that heat. He freed his still-slick left hand to close around Roy's length, and the words dissolved into soft, raw sounds. Ed bit down harder, wanting to hold on, to wait for Roy, but he could feel the edge, feel the shiver that started at the back of his neck and would sweep down...

It caught him by surprise when Roy's body seized him, and for an instant Ed was frozen by the shock. Then reflex drove him forward, and the heat closing around him stole his breath, his sight, stole everything but the electric tide pounding through him.

It finally left him slumped over Roy, forehead resting on his chest as they both gasped for air. When Ed finally levered himself up he wondered for a moment whether Roy was still conscious. He had never seen Roy in such a relaxed sprawl when he was awake. But Roy's eyes opened, slowly, full of lazy satiation. Ed felt rather smug about that, even if his legs did wobble a bit on his way to get a towel. He was especially pleased since it likely meant Roy would be interested in doing this more often, which Ed would very much like. Just the memory of Roy giving himself so freely to Ed's touch was enough to make him shiver.

When they had curled together under the covers, Ed's head on Roy's shoulder, Roy spoke very quietly.

"Thank you, Edward."

Ed woke up to the rustle of someone getting dressed. Since Roy seemed to be trying to keep quiet, Ed pretended to still be asleep.

At least, until Roy's fingers brushed lightly over his hair. Then Ed reached up and grabbed a handful of cloth.

"A desk," he reminded Roy without opening his eyes. "For the rest of eternity."

"I'll remember," Roy assured him, lightly.

"Besides," now Ed opened his eyes so he could give Roy a meaningful look, "we have to do this again sometime." He tugged Roy down to a hard kiss.

"I quite agree, my hawk," Roy laughed against his lips. Ed let him go.

"Gyrfalcon," he stated. "Don't let that be anything but the truth."

Roy straightened, dark eyes searching Ed's. Ed held that gaze with an effort, knowing he had just told Roy to kill.

"Who flies whom today?" Roy murmured, but Ed saw something relax in him. Roy touched Ed's lips with his fingertips and nodded.

And left.

Ed slouched in a library chair, staring at an open book. The same book he'd been staring at for the last three days. And, despite his love of and respect for books, he was about ready to hurl this one across the room from sheer nerves.

Where was Roy? He had said three days, it had been three days. If he'd managed to screw up and get himself killed, Ed really would...

"Research going well, Edward-kun?"

The deep, familiar voice struck through Ed like lightning. He closed his eyes, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.

"Everything is fine," he managed at last, turning to see Roy Mustang, neat and precise as always, lounging against the shelves with a faint smile and pained eyes.

"It's time to be moving," Roy told him.

End

Ed: You know, this arc started with humor. How'd we wind up here?

Branch: This arc started with you, how do you think?

Ed: ...you have a point.