It really irritated him that he did have ten years of experience and Roy could look at him and drop his voice a little and Ed squirmed.
Roy had been among the rebels for weeks now, and he'd learned very early on that these men were dangerous, very dangerous.
While Al couldn't say he approved, he was certain the Colonel wasn't stupid enough to try anything with Ed on a first date.
Rule number one: no one knows about us. Rule number two: I will continue to take other lovers to keep up appearances. Rule number three: no commitment. I thought it would be best to keep this quiet so I wouldn't look like a damn pedophile.
Al crouches down on a dune looking down on the camp and draws an array in the sand, thinking of Gunnar with a dull pang of grief.
His boyfriend. He wants me to be his boyfriend. He's wooing me with gifts. I'm being courted!
Brother deserves better than to always walk alone. And you deserve better than to quietly freeze in the dark, regretting things left untested.
Winry had scraped a promise out of Ed.
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
Ed saw Roy's fingers twitch and curl at his sides as the desire to embrace almost overwhelmed discretion and good sense.
"They're human chimeras, Mr. Elric. Children, primarily, and they're violent."
If killers and empty assassin armor hadn't frightened him, half a foot of park bench shouldn't leave him feeling so useless and pathetic.
There were lines that should never be crossed and things one should never wish for, and sometimes even the best of intentions were not enough.
Let it never be said that whatever his obsessive tendencies, Edward Elric was unable to enjoy life's simpler pleasures.
... to prove his point, he wields his tongue as he would a pen, hastily spelling out the letters P-E-R-V-E-R-T with his saliva...
As far as Edward was concerned it could just take for-damn-ever if it wanted because that’s how long he could go without taking to the Bastard.
Mustang fell into a kind of trance whenever he killed with his flames -- snapping his fingers continually, sometimes so fast that both his hands blurred.
Roy would have to remember to make Ed take a hot shower before sex; it would cut down on unpleasant cold shocks.
"So, Colonel, when are you going to find my replacement?"
Roy had not wanted to cry for many years; he hadn't wept since Ishbal.
Ed jabbed accusingly with an automail finger — nearly putting out Mustang's eye as he did so — and shrieked, "You're a crossdresser!"
Thank you General Mustang. At least that creep was good for something. Winry still wasn't convinced he was good for Ed.
When you live in a small apartment, it's hard to miss when your brother comes home smelling like sex and absinthe.
The blond shook his head lightly, probably in amusement, "I'm really sorry but he's normally not like this to strangers but your resemblance? is very striking, Roy."
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
Edward had come into his life, taken over his life; and sometimes Roy wondered what was left of it for him.
The reminder that Roy always managed to know what Edward was doing barely got a half-hearted glare.
"How do you manage to win, even when you lose?" he asked sleepily, some time later.
The hand under Edward's intact leg shifted, and the fingers snapped. A wave of heat danced across his skin, and he shivered in fear as the failed experiment died.
Ed had his suspicions about any offer Roy Mustang made that sounded like what he wanted. There had to be a catch.
"You embarrassed the brass, and now they want their pound of flesh."
“Your latest expense reports left something to be desired. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll go over them.” “I’ll stand, thanks.”
"Let me get this straight — you want to kiss me to support a theory!?"
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
The Colonel's laugh might have been relieved or wanting or even mocking; it was hard to tell.
No alchemical reaction could sustain fire without fuel forever.
The first thing he was aware of when the aftershocks faded was an automail hand on his throat.
Roy tasted fate in the air as he topped the muddy, grass swept hill.
rated:G | S+S | Ed/Roy
"Tonight," Roy breathed in his ear, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck, "there will be no safe word. Do you understand?"
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
"You're getting quite the list," Roy said. "Not that I am any sort of advocate for monogamy, but you certainly are taking full advantage of playing the field."
It doesn’t disappoint, never does; Ed is standing on the corner when the car arrives, all sharp moody edges and obtrusively coloured blue shorts.
"What I did here was nothing out of the ordinary. You are lucky you were shown it so early."
This, too, was a pain that Edward had inflicted only on himself, but neither Roy nor Al had dared to say so.
At a large mahogany desk, polished to an almost jewel-like shine, sat Colonel Edward Elric, who was deep into his paperwork. Or at least that is how he appeared.
"Can I trust you," Ed's dewy eyes were huge and he looked somehow younger than he'd ever looked before.