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A Night Out


On reflection, Ed realized he should have known something was up.

When he'd come to the door of the Colonel's dorm that evening, tired already from a night and a day on his feet doing hoof-work for the military (and it didn't even have the courtesy of being related to the Philosopher's Stone), he was too irritated to really give the circumstances his full attention. He'd been sent to the Colonel's office to report, but he hadn't been there. He wandered to the cafeteria, and the national library, but Mustang wasn't there either. Then Hawkeye had found him and told him that Mustang needed him urgently, please report to his suite in the dormitory. And by that time, all Ed wanted to do was go home to his dorm room, take a shower, and go to sleep. So he'd stormed off to the Colonel's dormitory, halfway anxious to know what could be so urgent and halfway pissed that the Colonel had the nerve to retire for the day before he had delivered his report.

He pounded on the door with his mechanical hand, because it didn't hurt to pound as hard as he could with that hand, and if the Colonel was comfortable, he wanted to startle him, even if he couldn't see the results—the smug bastard was rarely ever scared or even taken off-guard.

But there was no reply. Ed pounded on the door again.

Nothing.

"I'm going to transmute the hinges right off this door if you're sleeping, Colonel!" Ed roared, slamming his hands together with a resounding clap.

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. He blinked, nonplussed, at the Colonel—who was dressed only in a thin blue robe.

The Colonel smirked, and those dark eyes suddenly raked over Ed's body, taking in his muddy boots, damp pants, mud-spattered coat, mussed hair, and pole-axed expression with an air of consideration that made the hairs on the back of Ed's neck rise in vague horror. Mustang looked like...like he was trying to decide which part of him to eat first.

Oh, no. No way. I'm tired, and I'm going home and straight to bed! Ed thought desperately, but he couldn't get his legs to move; the Colonel's gaze pinned him to the floor where he stood.

"You have excellent timing, Edward," Roy said. "I have just finished drawing the bath."

And before Ed could say a word, or take a step away, Roy had grabbed his hand, bent forward, yanked Ed against his shoulder, and hoisted him off his feet so he hung over the Colonel's shoulder, his ass up in the air, his knees against the Colonel's chest and his torso draped over Roy's back. And with that, the Colonel shoved the door shut and started walking—although where to, Ed was not sure, because all he could see was Roy's butt.

Suddenly Ed came to an important conclusion. "...You like humiliating me by sweeping me off my feet, you bastard!" he snarled, attempting to kick but stopped pretty firmly by the Colonel's arm wrapped around the back of his knees.

Roy just laughed. "Every hero needs a damsel in distress to sweep off his or her feet," he replied smoothly.

The world abruptly took on scarlet hues. "WHO'RE YOU CALLING A DAMSEL!?"

But it only got worse, when the Colonel laughed again and spanked him. On the butt. Instantly Ed's face heated up, the embarrassment almost too much to take, even in private.

It was while he was wondering if he could transmute himself into a speck of dust (because, after all, Mustang wouldn't molest a speck of dust, would he!?) that Roy suddenly leaned forward, and Ed felt himself sliding off the Colonel's shoulder—"uwaa—"

Into steaming hot water.

As he scrambled to sit upright, coughing on some inhaled water and sweeping his dripping bangs from his eyes, the first thing that went through Ed's head was that it was going to be a bitch to get his now-soaking-wet clothes off his automail.


Edward's gloved hands flew to the sides of the tub as Roy unceremoniously dropped him into the water, and he yanked himself upright, sopping wet and coughing. "Wha—that—" he gasped out, raking one hand through his hair, pushing his wet bangs from his eyes. "You bastard!"

Roy couldn't help but laugh, and Edward snarled. Edward was, inherently, an amusing person, in part because he was short and sensitive about it, but also because he was such a dynamic person, flying through moods at the speed of light. And Roy knew exactly how to trigger most of those moods.

He began to undo the sash holding his robe closed, slowly.

There was a long moment in which Ed didn't notice, holding up his arms and shaking them, sending lukewarm water flying everywhere, and swearing as he picked at his right sleeve. But then he glanced up, probably to swear at Mustang again—and froze.

Roy felt a smirk beginning to crease his face. The Fullmetal Alchemist certainly had the most precious 'deer-caught-in-headlights' look he had ever seen.

Now that he had Edward's attention, he picked up the pace, letting the robe fall open and shedding it while Ed gawked at him. It was amusing, how Edward behaved as though he had no suspicions as to what was coming beforehand; although Roy was not in the habit of undressing before his uke, sometimes, with Edward, it was simply worth the reaction.

He crouched by the tub as Ed worked his jaw a couple of times, then croaked, "A-Al...Al is waiting for me. I-in the room, you know, I was gonna..." he trailed off as Roy leaned closer.

"Oh yes, Fullmetal, I know," Roy said, leaning forward while Ed leaned back until his back hit the edge of the tub. "I made arrangements for Al to stay with Hughes' family tonight. I hope you don't mind." He reached up under Edward's chin to undo the clasp of his jacket, and pushed it off his shoulders. It slid right down his flesh arm, but Roy had to jerk it a little to get it past the joints on Ed's metal arm.

Meanwhile, Ed clung to the edges of the tub until Roy gently eased his arms out of his jacket. "What about—you know, a report—"

Roy reached into the water to tug Ed's tank top free of his pants. "Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye has already given me a full accounting for her part, and as I understand it, you were not away from her company for any extended period of time. I'm certain your half of the report can wait until the morning," he answered smoothly. It always paid to cover his bases when it came to Fullmetal. He pulled the tank top up, dragging his fingers over Ed's side as he did so, feeling the scars where skin met metal, and lifted the wet material over Ed's head before pulling it down his arms, leaving Ed shirtless. He reached back into the water while Ed was still searching for another excuse, undoing his belt buckle; amusedly he watched as a storm gathered on Edward's brow.

And then, the storm broke—Ed lurched to his feet, water flying everywhere. "I don't have to put up with this!" he snapped, scrambling to slip past Roy and out of the tub; Roy laughed softly, a chuckle under his breath, and grasped Ed's pants at the thighs, yanking them firmly past his buttocks. Ed yelped, and Roy swept his hand against the back of Edward's calves; the young man crashed back into the water, completely submerged again, sloshing water over the edge of the tub and over Roy's thighs. He came up coughing and gasping for air again, his hair working its way free of his braid to hang wetly over his bare shoulders and plaster itself to his flushed face. "Y-you—" he coughed out, throwing a half-hearted glare in Roy's direction.

Roy liked smirking at Edward, and he did so again as he slid Ed's pants down his thighs and over his calves. His boots came off with wet sucking noises. "Surely you don't mind that much," Roy replied softly, lifting a hand to swipe along the line of Ed's set jaw. "And besides, your clothes are soaked now. You might as well stay, enjoy a hot bath—which I'm quite sure you cannot get in the enlisted dorms—and wait for your clothes to dry." He drew Ed's pants off his legs and tossed them in a pile with Ed's other clothes.

Ed's poleaxed expression began to dissolve into a disgruntled one. "My clothes aren't gonna dry too fast in a pile like that," he grumbled, folding his legs up under himself and flexing his metal hand as if checking the joints, his face red in a reflection of his embarrassment.

Roy half-stood up, stepping into the tub to join him, lowering himself slowly into the water and basking in the rising heat. "Mm, I suppose not," he agreed, gently grasping Ed's sides and sliding his legs underneath him to stretch out in the tub. "I'll just have to hang them up later, won't I?" And with that, he pulled Edward closer to himself by the hips, until their groins were within a hair's breadth of touching; Ed's legs were spread to either side of his own, his buttocks flat against Roy's thighs.

It was as much of a tease to Roy as it was to Ed, really, but as Roy's arousal stirred he enjoyed watching Ed blush brighter, leaning back a little and clenching his hands as his mouth twitched, as if he couldn't decide whether he was going to sigh at the closeness or growl about it. Then Roy tugged Ed's hips forward the small distance necessary to press his sex against Ed's own, and saw those golden eyes of his widen at the contact, then narrow as he pressed his lips together in a thin, slightly trembling line.

Time to raise the stakes. Roy lifted a hand to the back of Ed's neck, sliding long fingers between the wet locks of what remained of Ed's tangled braid, and gently pulled Ed's head down. Ed put up token resistance, but let himself be bent over and forward, bracing himself with his hands as he dropped them into the water to either side of Roy; Roy smiled slightly just before Ed's lips hit his own.

They rarely kissed, and when they did, it always started the same way; Ed's mouth yielded passively against Roy's tongue. But Roy knew how to bring sparks to the kiss, and he grasped Ed's hip tightly with his one hand, holding him down into the kiss as he ground their groins together, forcing Ed's pelvic bone against his own hard and fast and violent. Ed gasped into the kiss, and suddenly, it was war, as Ed pressed his mouth up against Roy's own, as if trying to get back his arousal through Roy's mouth. Roy would have smirked at how easily, how quickly Edward was coerced into sudden desire, but he was too busy kissing hungrily back, tongue meeting Ed's in a peculiar duel that went on and on while they breathed through their noses in small gasps.

Ed's hand, still gloved, came up to Roy's shoulder as he leaned forward, and Roy slid down further into the water, enjoying how Ed bent over him to continue to kiss him. It was true that Ed was a reluctant individual, not ready to admit to himself how much he loved these sessions, but when he got started, he was all fire-y passion; he fought for control violently, trying to wrench Roy's easy guidance from him, without seeming to even realize how he did precisely what the Colonel wanted.

Ah, how did Ed make himself more desirable that way? Roy dragged Ed closer to himself, throwing his hand over Ed's waist and yanking the young man down over him, forcing Ed's stomach flat against his own and their erections to meet from root to tip. Ed tore his lips from Roy's for a moment, letting out a shuddering gasp of desire, and Roy yanked Ed's mouth back down on his own, kissing him hard, thoroughly, and roughly, their war resuming.

Ed was delicious. He didn't taste like oranges, or mint, or some other silly clich—, but his mouth was warm and wet, and...well, delicious. Roy amused himself slightly by backing off the kiss, and Edward pressed his perceived advantage, taking control of Roy's mouth with his tongue; meanwhile, Roy lowered his hand from Edward's neck, and snaked it down his bared back, a single fingernail trailing down towards the young man's tailbone—preparing to claim the prize of today's scheming.

He was already spread out—his legs split over Roy's hips, his pelvis pressed against Mustang's own, and his chest almost drawn to his knees—and Roy brushed his fingers over Ed's anus, just to give fair warning. There was a moment of hesitation in the middle of their intense kiss, as Ed's tongue froze over his mouth, and then, Roy gently pushed his finger forth. The bathwater, soapy with bath oils, acted as an excellent lubricant, and surprisingly his slippery finger slid in a little ways immediately.

Ed went stiff over him, lifting his head away from Roy's and to the side as he winced—probably more from surprise than from real pain, Mustang surmised. But it wouldn't do to have Ed's thoughts centered on down there; if the preparation process was painful enough to grab the attention of someone who had suffered through the attachment of automail, it was severe enough to put forth effort to keep his mind off it. Roy shifted his hips for more leverage, and ground against Edward again.

He wasn't entirely expecting the rush of air that left Ed's lips at the sudden friction, even as a burst of pleasure exploded in Roy's own genitals; Edward groaned softly, falling slightly forward to flop over Roy's torso, his chin on Roy's shoulder. His loose hair tickled Roy's chest and neck. But Roy didn't miss a beat, even as a slight smile creased his face again, and he jerked his hips gently against Ed's as he continued to press his finger into Edward's anus, the sphincter periodically tightening as if to cut off his digits. Ed's hand on his opposite shoulder tightened, and Ed breathed sharply and hotly next to Roy's ear, as if he was hanging on for dear life in the middle of these ministrations; he too began to jerk his hips against Roy's, letting out a tiny whimper of a moan that Mustang would never have had the pleasure of hearing if Ed had not been draped over him like a warm blanket, helpless to stop things. He was wanton—and Roy didn't think he'd ever seen Ed this way, this needy and involved. It must have been longer than he thought since they had last had sex.

We'll have to try this in the bath again, he thought amusedly. He slipped another finger past the ring of muscle and into Edward, while the young man squirmed against him, thrusting his hips forward as he flung an arm around behind Roy's neck and buried his face in Roy's shoulder. The wet glove covering Ed's clenched fist just brushed Mustang's neck; a warm mouth poured shuddering breaths against his collarbone. Roy fought to keep from shivering at the sensation, forcing his concentration to be on stretching Edward properly for his full erection. He pressed a third finger in, holding down Ed's reckless thrusting with the hand he still had on Ed's hip, lightly brushing his own erection against Ed's in such a manner as to tease him. He felt Ed's stomach quiver.

Ed would probably take him now. Roy withdrew his fingers from Ed's inner recesses, and the still-hot water from the steamy bath felt cool against them. He slid his hands down to cup Ed's buttocks—they were firm, really, almost bony, as to be expected of a man—and pressed against them, encouraging Edward to scoot up his body. The young man did so after a bit of prompting, his breathing slowing a little.

Some time ago, Roy had made a bet with himself that he would someday 'fuck Edward Elric senseless'. At the time the trouble had been getting Edward to consent to sexual contact at all, but now...

Ed settled again on Roy's chest as Mustang pressed his hips down gently, the tip of Roy's erection resting against his anus, and he let out a trembling sigh of anticipation, wrapping his other arm around Roy's neck and turning his face into Roy's neck.

Right now, surely Edward was already on the verge of senselessness.

So Roy was actually rather impressed when he felt Edward's mouth move against his neck. "Gonna kill you later," he gasped sharply, not lifting his head. "'Know what you're thinking, and I'll k-kill you for it..."

"Oh? And what was I thinking?" Roy asked softly, taking the moment to gently slide a finger through Ed's long hair. Absently he wondered what Edward would do with it if he joined the army proper—long hair was forbidden, or had to be put up. The image of Edward with a bun a la Hawkeye was enough to make Roy snicker.

"Thought you had me in the palm of your hand," Ed snarled half-heartedly before swearing at the warm bathwater.

Roy couldn't help but laugh at that. "I have you right where I want you, nonetheless," he answered cockily, before he wrapped his fingers around Ed's hips and pulled Edward down on his erection, impaling him.

Edward made an odd noise as Roy slid up all the way into him until pelvic bone met buttocks in one smooth motion, aided by the oily water. He then stilled his hands and hips for a moment, letting Edward adjust to him, letting himself adjust to Edward, though Roy thought he would never adjust to how deliciously tight Edward was. Ed, for his part, seemed to have again lost the power of speech; he breathed hard against Roy's clavicle again, his arms squeezing Mustang's neck involuntarily.

Roy was going to have fun pushing Fullmetal to the limit this time. He slid fingers between himself and Ed, and wrapped his fist around Ed's erection; the young man stiffened over him, drawing a sharp breath, his teeth gritting. Roy dragged his fist up over Ed, knuckles scraping both their stomachs, and Ed pushed his hips forward, rising off of Roy's erection to keep that friction with Roy's fist. Mustang then lowered his fist again, and Ed settled upon Roy's member again with an almost inaudible gasp.

That was more fun than Roy had expected. His whole body throbbed with pleasure as he repeated the procedure, slowly, unsure of how aware Edward was that Roy was essentially causing him to do all the work. Ed, meanwhile, made hardly a sound, though his moving body sloshed the water gently. The silence would have been eerie, almost, had anyone had the time to appreciate it; Mustang held his breath against both release and pleasure as Edward slid up and down his erection, raising and lowering himself to meet Roy's pumping fist.

It was barely a teasing pace, though, and finally, even Roy couldn't stand it; he moved his hand more quickly, and Ed responded in turn, but apparently the increased speed still wasn't enough for the young man. Roy had the urge to chuckle when Edward jerked his hips abruptly, his teeth scraping against Roy's collarbone as he let out a noise that Mustang could only describe as keening. He pressed down with the hand on Ed's hips, reining both Fullmetal and himself in as he forced the movement of Ed's hips to slow again. "Patience, Edward, we will get there soon enough," he murmured, just to feel Ed's ears warm against his neck with anger and hear him growl. That growl always went straight to his groin.

And straight to his groin it went again, and with a soft grunt of his own, Roy abruptly pushed Ed down upon himself completely, holding the young man there with a hand on his hip and his other hand against the base of Edward's erection while he fought off climax. Ed's wet glove slid across Roy's bare shoulder as Ed's arms tightened, his body stretched in every sense as he took Roy within himself and remained flattened out over the Colonel's chest, whispering, "You—you—" but never quite getting out the intended curse. There was hardly an inch between their ribcages, both rising and falling abnormally fast but somehow never touching, Edward holding himself quiveringly taut between Roy's hands on his hips and his own arms around Roy's neck.

Mustang had to finish this soon, or risk climaxing before Edward—something he found rather embarrassing when he let it happen. He relaxed into the water, breathing in the steamy air, his control regained, and resumed stroking Edward, but now firmly and quickly. Edward made another interesting noise somewhere between surprise and desire—but then, all the noises Fullmetal made tended to be interesting in some respect—and Ed's hips fairly flew up to meet Roy's fingers, his body clenching around the Colonel's erection. Roy groaned, his vision blurring momentarily, and kept moving his hand, kept encouraging Edward to move over him, squeezing his fingers around Ed and enjoying that although Ed's clenched teeth let out no sound, his arms twitched against Roy's neck.

This couldn't go on much longer—Edward's increasingly frantic movement sloshed water over the edge of the tub, and his breath came in short bursts against the crook of Roy's neck. Roy squeezed his fingers around him rhythmically, closing his eyes as it became too much of an effort to process what he saw.

Roy heard Edward's climax coming before he felt it—a soft grunt as the jaw by his neck drew even more taut. He moved his hand to Ed's hip, and then Edward's body stiffened, every muscle freezing as he came, making the water between Roy and himself stir and turn milky. His fingers clenched as he did so, scraping against the Colonel's shoulders; his gloves were cool in contrast to the hot steam of the bath. He then let out his breath in a long, shuddering sigh as he collapsed on the Colonel's chest, spent.

Mustang almost followed Edward immediately; instead, he grabbed Ed's hips and jostled his hips sharply, twisting his body against Ed. Abruptly his vision blurred, and sound crashed in his ears; his body went rigid as he climaxed hard, clenching his fingers in Ed's pelvis.

When the world came back to him, he too was relaxed in the tub, a heavy metal arm and a soft flesh one draped loosely around his neck and a pleasantly warm Fullmetal Alchemist covering his torso. Edward's breath came evenly but not quite slowly enough for sleeping, and Roy debated the merits of moving before the young man laying on him did. But in the end Ed answered his question for him as the young alchemist flung his metal arm around to rest the forearm on the Colonel's neck. "Will kill you, " he grunted. "I'll kill you with no regrets, bastard..."

"For leaving you so wonderfully sated?" Mustang returned pleasantly, unperturbed. Edward wouldn't kill him, if for no other reason than that he took the chain of command very, very seriously.

It was far too much fun to watch the young man color at his words. "Shut up," he sighed, practically collapsing across the chest of the Colonel. "Just shut up..."

For several minutes Mustang was content to leave it at that, but the water was slowly becoming only lukewarm. He turned his head and licked Edward's ear, and received precisely the startled flinch he had expected. "Get up, Fullmetal. As lovely as the bath was, you have graced it with the day's dirt and other fluids that I would rather not clean myself with."

Entertainingly, Edward got offended at that—"As if you had nothing to do with it!" he spluttered—but he pushed himself up rather suddenly, placing both hands on the sides of the tub and pushing himself to his feet with gusto.

He almost toppled right out of the bathtub. Roy surged forward and up, grabbing Ed by the waist, but his legs were not quite ready to respond at such short notice; together the two of them crashed back into the bathtub, and the water fairly poured over the sides of the tub for a moment or two.

"Close," said Roy when they had both regained their breath.

"Too close," snapped Ed as he tore himself out of Mustang's arms, stumbling out of tub on his hands and knees to mourn the state of his still-soaked clothes. "I can't wear these anywhere..."

"Stay, then," Roy suggested as he slowly got to his feet to make a more dignified exit from the tub, letting his wobbly legs adjust. He received a full-strength Elric glare in response, and Roy quickly reassembled his pre-prepared argument. "You'll have to borrow some clothes, Edward, and do you really want to go out in an outfit that is obviously—" (here he paused as he considered baiting Edward again regarding his height, and decided against it, for once) "—not your own?"

Ed gave him a suspicious look as if he knew what Roy had been thinking about his height, then blushed as apparently the weight of his words sunk in. He scowled. "All right," he mumbled grudgingly, and held out a gloved hand. Water dripped from his elbow. "Some pajamas, right? And then I'll hang up these clothes, and tomorrow they'll be dry so I can go home first thing tomorrow." He gave Roy a look that said, and no funny business!

Roy could barely contain his grin, and instead it transmuted into a smirk. "Of course, Edward."

Ed would forgive him in the morning, after all, without ever meaning to.