Ed was pretty sure that the Colonel had an office fetish.
Actually, Ed wasn't entirely sure he was using the term 'fetish' right, but for him it caught the gist of things—when it came to certain (ahem) sexual matters, the Colonel preferred them in his office. Either that, or he was just entertained by giving off such an impression.
Therefore he did find it a relief to get away from the Colonel's constant teasing for six weeks as he and Al trooped off again to some far-off city, off to set things straight (and probably play right into the Colonel's hands. Again. Ed hated that); the Flame Alchemist took an almost sadistic delight in coming oh-so-close to doing obscene things to Edward while they were in his office, and having actually done said obscene things once, Ed felt he had every right to never move from next to the door when he visited the Colonel for this or that piece of business. Six weeks away from that extra tension did Edward some good (although he did blow a few vessels over the idiots in the town they came to. What the hell were those merchants thinking, selling fake Stones and then extorting the buyers with lies ... ). He came back feeling refreshed and ready to face the Colonel down again (at least as much as he could ever hope to).
However, Edward had not really accounted for what the Colonel would think of his extended absence.
This proved to be one of the bigger oversights of Edward's life.
He put off giving his report as long as he could manage, as tradition dictated; he hardly even thought about it any more, wandering around and doing anything he could but go to Mustang's office. When he finally got there, he knocked, and there was the usual order, 'come in'; he obeyed, of course, and he began to salute.
But the Colonel was not in his seat behind the desk.
Ed barely had time to blink before arms had snaked around his torso, pulling him back, locking him in place against a taller, warm body. Ed yelped, surprised, and a hand clapped over his mouth.
"I missed you," whispered the Colonel, soft and sickeningly sweet, his breath blowing against Ed's hair and his voice almost mocking in its teasing tones.
Ed scowled. Of course it was the Colonel, the damned pervert—and what kinda weirdo greeting was this supposed to be, anyway!? A tease? Regardless, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. He was about to offer a scathing retort—when he realized fingers were undoing his belt, his button, his zipper with expert speed. He gave off an indignant and undignified squawk and tore away from the Colonel's arms, spinning to face him, grasping his belt and pants around his middle. "What the hell are you doing!?" he demanded breathlessly. "I just got back, dammit!"
"I know," replied the Colonel, smirking—and it was the last two words that Ed got out of him that night.
It was a mission in speed it seemed; Edward stared at the Colonel, a bit on the pale side as he thought about what had been said and unsaid, and then Mustang, not to be put off, shoved Edward not-so-gently in the direction of the leather couch. Edward made a little surprised noise and teetered forward , almost collapsing against the armrest, but that was not, apparently, where the Colonel wanted him; he grabbed Ed around the waist with one arm, pulling him up and around to behind the couch, and lifted him the few inches needed to get his hips firmly over the back of the couch, his buttocks upturned.
If Edward hadn't been so surprised by the whole thing, he would have put up loud protest at that point, as he felt his cheeks go bright with shame that he was so damn short that he was actually dangling over the back of the Colonel's leather couch. And then, to add insult to injury, Mustang wasted no time in yanking Ed's pants and boxers down and over his bottom, letting them pool around his ankles.
Ed physically started at the kiss of cold air against his nether regions; he grasped at the leather couch, trying to pull himself up to give himself a sporting chance, and a hand descended on the back of his neck, pushing him back down, bending him almost double over the couch. Ed gasped, taken aback, and reared up in rebellion, but there was no give, and Edward had no leverage; he hung there, fuming, his heart beating a little faster it should have. He could almost see the smirk the Colonel almost certainly wore in his mind's eye.
Indeed the Colonel was smirking. He took a moment to look down over Edward's exposed buttocks, to gloat to himself for just a moment that he was going to, after six weeks, finally get exactly what he wanted from Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist. The young man was naked from the waist down, his fingers dug into the top of the couch in a desperate attempt to keep his own balance so he would not topple face-first into the couch seat; even though he wasn't facing him it was obvious he was bright red with embarrassment, judging from the color of his neck. Roy let out a soft sigh, desire sweeping over him again.
At times he exerted his willpower to keep from simply grabbing Edward, stripping him, and fucking him raw the way Mustang wanted to, the way the young man needed to be fucked at least once in his life—into oblivion. However, now was not a time at which Mustang felt any need to exert his willpower. Instead, he quickly worked the belt, button, and zipper of his pants open, freeing an erection even as he pushed the material of his boxers and uniform down off his thighs.
Really, Edward had no idea what he did to Mustang.
For Edward, the silence from above him except for the scraping of cloth and the sound of a zipper was daunting. Then, suddenly, a large hand grasped one cheek of his butt; he shrieked in outrage, startled, and heard the Colonel laugh above him before the hand shifted between his cheeks and slid down sharply and suddenly, over his anus and to his scrotum, fingers running lightly over his anatomy before wrapping firmly around his half-formed erection. Edward gasped, and bucked his hips against Mustang's offered hand wantonly, before forcing himself to stop, digging his knees into the back of the couch as a brace, groaning a little; again Mustang chuckled over him, and a finger teased its way along his skin, brushing his shaft and tickling his balls and following the line of the crack of his ass all the way back to the tailbone. Edward could hardly control his flinching at the touch, it tickled in such an erotic way; the hand on his neck tightened slightly as if to remind Edward that it was there, and he again had to brace himself against the couch with his hands to keep from falling, the hand was balancing him so far forward.
He certainly didn't mean to let out the tiny squeak of loss when Roy's finger left his skin.
If Edward's upturned buttocks had been a turn-on before, that same pair of buttocks attached to a trembling, needy Edward (even if Ed would never admit to being needy) were irresistible, and very suddenly, Roy couldn't move fast enough. He fumbled for his lube—ah, yes, in his jacket pocket—and found himself at the quandary of how to apply it one-handed. A moment's debate led him to simply squeeze some onto his own erection—what dripped off could be cleaned up later. He discarded the tube and quickly ran his fingers up over himself, being somewhat clinical about it, before he pressed his now-slick fingers between Ed's legs again. He felt Ed tense; the young man's whole body froze for a moment, and he let out the smallest gasp. Then Roy pushed his fingers up against Edward, rubbing in circles, inducing the sphincter to relax as quickly as he could manage.
The moment he felt that Edward was ready, Mustang pressed his erection up against Edward, pausing momentarily to catch his own breath. He then jerked his hips forward, past the initial ring of muscle and into Edward's bowels.
Underneath him Edward spasmed, his metal fingers actually tearing the leather of the chair, his head jerking up against Roy' hand on his neck, a strangled cry passing his lips. But he made no sound after that while Roy quickly pushed himself up further into Edward, reveling in how small and tight he was, how his body trembled gently; the pressure was sweet against him.
Edward gasped for air, meanwhile, relieved to know the worst had passed while the Colonel slid himself further and further into him, until Mustang's whole erection was buried within him. The pressure of it hurt at first, and he felt as if his skin was stretched to the limit, but eventually, his body grew more used to it. The Colonel's fingers dug into his hip, and Edward doubted the Colonel had even noticed yet. It was a moment or two before Mustang shifted against him, and began to pull himself back out; he backed out perhaps halfway, as far as Edward could tell, before pushing in again, faster, and harder; Ed suppressed a moan at the pressure on his prostate, the pleasure building a bit, bringing life to his flagging erection; the pain of the pressure slowly drained away as the satisfaction of the Colonel's movements mounted within him.
Mustang didn't think that he could have stopped if the entire army walked into his office right then; Edward was making all the right noises and squirming in just the right way to heighten his pleasure, and he offered a soft groan of ecstasy as he stroked into Edward faster and harder, now pulling almost his entire erection from Ed before slamming back home, now barely pulling out at all, stabbing in quickly and hard, feeling Ed's body give way beneath him, rocking with his movements. It was pure feeling—Edward's body squeezed around him involuntarily, and inadvertently Roy was squeezing his fingers against Edward's neck and hip. Orgasm rose within him; he was close now, so close—
He jammed his hips to Edward's buttocks as he came, giving up his seed with a growl of pleasure.
Edward jerked beneath him with a surprised gasp, his eyes widening a little at the sensation of something warm flooding his insides. He struggled to not be flipped over onto the couch as Mustang leaned against him in the aftermath of orgasm, bracing his knees against the back of the couch and digging his fingers into the edge of it. He felt the warm wetness of Mustang pulling out of him, some semen staining his inner thigh; the hand at his hip moved away, presumably because the Colonel had replaced it on the couch for support, although Ed couldn't turn his head to verify.
He jumped when said hand closed on his unsatisfied erection and began to gently stroke it, and Mustang chuckled softly over his head, making him blush in embarrassment. Immediately he sprang back to attention; the touch was electrifying. The hand did not move from against Ed's neck, still holding him down and in place as Mustang's fingers teased and pulled at him in turn; Ed bit his lip, his movements against the Colonel's hand limited so completely as to drive him to frustration while the Colonel calmly stroked him at his own pace, adding a bit of pressure each time, patiently waiting for Edward to build to a climax.
Roy's legs trembled a bit as he stood behind Edward, bringing the young man to orgasm; Edward was, as ever, completely satisfying, leaving him sated and warm, and it was an effort to remain standing—an effort he hid well. He watched avidly when Edward finally followed him into release; the young man's teeth ground shut as he shot semen over the Colonel's fingers and the back of the couch, his body rigid, shaking, fingers scraping against the torn leather. Mustang finally allowed himself a small smile as Ed finally relaxed, hanging over the edge of the couch for a brief, tired moment, breathing shakily and hard.
Mustang released Edward's neck, letting the young man finally push up off the back of the couch to his wobbly feet, and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his seed-covered hand on it. Edward fumbled with his pants and belt, swaying, aching between his legs, but not to be daunted; while Mustang pulled his own pants up, Edward made his way to the door. But a strong arm caught Ed when he nearly toppled over on his way to the door and pulled him back, sitting him firmly on the couch.
"Relax," murmured Mustang, smirking at Edward. "You've only just come back."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Edward grumped as soon as he'd found his voice, and Mustang laughed.