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Rare

part 9 of level3 MF

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.

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.