Plot, what plot? or, pr0n without plot.
"Alphonse... why are you wearing a blouse?" The younger boy buried his face in his textbook, and mumbled something inaudible. "...and a miniskirt!?"
Tenderly, Ed's flesh fingers threaded into hair that he had created — short and bronze-gold, the same downy texture that he'd recalled from childhood.
Of course, the jar was really the professional female companionship fund; or, as Ed liked to sarcastically call it, the pussy kitty.
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.
The blow cracked Ed's cheekbone, an audible noise in the quiet room, and he felt and tasted the blood that filled his mouth.
Unexpectedly, the door flew open with a loud bang, steps sounded on the tile, and a very familiar, very cranky voice said...
"So ...." Havoc tried to look nonchalant. "Fullmetal's hair is, uh ... bright."
From saint to sinner, from mother to whore… She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
She clung to him so tightly that his skin was white under her fingertips.
Ed was pretty sure that the Colonel had an office fetish.
"No funny business!" Ed thundered, not fooled for one minute by that innocent look.
Now the eyes were dull, the gold frosted, and bitter lines caged his mouth.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
The door opened, and all the energy Ed had been ready to put towards transmuting the door into a pile of sticks drained out of him through his feet.
Yeah. Get it right and be honest, it's a little too good, a little too everything to let go of just yet.
"Hi Brother!" the other end of the phone chirped, and Ed's shoulders immediately went from tense to jelly.
"So," said Ling. "I was thinking, perhaps my father can buy out Ed's contract."
Ed knew he was going to muck everything up between the three of him if he didn't get a hold of his libido.
Ed let out the barest squeak, then glared fire as if daring Roy to say anything.
I know we're going to wind up in our power roles again and again, claws out, dipping hard, down into flesh that sprouts the sanctity of red, red, blood.
Pillow talk, with the Fullmetal Alchemist, was shop talk.
Ed had his suspicions about any offer Roy Mustang made that sounded like what he wanted. There had to be a catch.
Edward was like on a dog on a too-short leash, so close to the bone but unable to taste it.
"Yeah," Fuery chips in, "you're always the one to stop Ed from doing weird stuff, not the other way around."
"I can't be this old and still a virgin," Ed snickered. "I mean, you've been with someone, right?
"Damnit, brother," Alphonse managed, and Ed grinned at him. "I was only away for a week!"
"It was a while ago," he offered nervously. "Before your time. He's, uh, well, he was a persistent bastard, and... You're not mad, are you?"
Al didn't complain about his brother's occasional delinquency, so Ed didn't have room to complain about Al's taste in boyfriends.
"So by 'torture,' you really mean 'sexual gratification'. Specifically your sexual gratification.
"You know it's a good thing I heal almost immediately, because otherwise I'd be so sore, I'd never get anywhere in the story."
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
There were many things that Edward Elric didn't want the world to know, secrets to be protected at all cost.
The Colonel's laugh might have been relieved or wanting or even mocking; it was hard to tell.
No kinks, no cross-dressing, no tag-team threesomes, and all pets must be ushered out of the room beforehand.
Her lover could have been anyone; Edward or Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Ling Yao.
"Yeah, so I hear the best way to get anything out of you is by going through your pants," the boy said evenly.
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
His flatmate is a night owl and is always knocking around at odd hours, reading well in the early morning; if Alfons didn't remind him to sleep he most likely never would bother to.
Artificial muscles and steel could not replace the level of sensitivity real muscle and skin had.
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
"I will teach you patience even it if kills me," Alfons gritted out. "Let me do this my way, you can give up control just for one act."
"You paid for him to have sex?" Mustang says incredulously, putting his pen down on the table top and shoving the form away. "You bought him a prostitute?"
The desire to go wandering again, to never settle down... it worried Alphonse.
"Can't you forget what you read for a few minutes, and just... you know... go with the flow?"
He's been after her since the day they met. He'd been a newly-made Major and, at the time, the youngest State Alchemist ever. She'd been a Colonel going on Brigadier General.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.