Plot, what plot? or, pr0n without plot.
"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?"
"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?"
The desire to go wandering again, to never settle down... it worried Alphonse.
"Hi Brother!" the other end of the phone chirped, and Ed's shoulders immediately went from tense to jelly.
Artificial muscles and steel could not replace the level of sensitivity real muscle and skin had.
Ed knew he was going to muck everything up between the three of him if he didn't get a hold of his libido.
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.
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
Yeah. Get it right and be honest, it's a little too good, a little too everything to let go of just yet.
The Colonel's laugh might have been relieved or wanting or even mocking; it was hard to tell.
"So by 'torture,' you really mean 'sexual gratification'. Specifically your sexual gratification.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
"Yeah, so I hear the best way to get anything out of you is by going through your pants," the boy said evenly.
"Can't you forget what you read for a few minutes, and just... you know... go with the flow?"
She clung to him so tightly that his skin was white under her fingertips.
"So," said Ling. "I was thinking, perhaps my father can buy out Ed's contract."
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.
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.
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.
"Alphonse... why are you wearing a blouse?" The younger boy buried his face in his textbook, and mumbled something inaudible. "...and a miniskirt!?"
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.
Her lover could have been anyone; Edward or Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Ling Yao.
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.
"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."
"I can't be this old and still a virgin," Ed snickered. "I mean, you've been with someone, right?
Al didn't complain about his brother's occasional delinquency, so Ed didn't have room to complain about Al's taste in boyfriends.
"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."
There were many things that Edward Elric didn't want the world to know, secrets to be protected at all cost.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
Ed let out the barest squeak, then glared fire as if daring Roy to say anything.
"So ...." Havoc tried to look nonchalant. "Fullmetal's hair is, uh ... bright."
Now the eyes were dull, the gold frosted, and bitter lines caged his mouth.
Unexpectedly, the door flew open with a loud bang, steps sounded on the tile, and a very familiar, very cranky voice said...
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
Of course, the jar was really the professional female companionship fund; or, as Ed liked to sarcastically call it, the pussy kitty.
No kinks, no cross-dressing, no tag-team threesomes, and all pets must be ushered out of the room beforehand.
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.
"Damnit, brother," Alphonse managed, and Ed grinned at him. "I was only away for a week!"
From saint to sinner, from mother to whore… She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
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.
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."