It was when the Colonel locked the door that Edward began to get edgy.
When he turned from the door and advanced on Edward like a cat on his prey, Ed started to get nervous.
When, as Ed backed away from the Colonel, he hit the wall, he started to get pissed.
"Just who do you think you're stalking!?" he demanded.
"Fullmetal, of course." The Colonel smiled, unbuttoning the top button on his jacket, standing just a little too close. "You look so cute, angry like that."
Ed's ego flared up, and he saw red. "Who're you calling cute like a little girl!? Are you calling me short like a girl!?"
The Colonel's mouth turned up in that obnoxious smirk he had, and he stepped a little closer. Edward's personal space was definitely being violated. He balked and attempted to press himself backwards through the wall. "Now, Fullmetal, I never went that far," said the Colonel, leaning over Edward, pressing his ungloved hand against the wall next to Ed's head. "You're blushing, you know."
"No I'm not," Edward snapped, lying through his teeth. He tried to stand taller, to be closer to the Colonel's height. He hated it when the Colonel lorded his height over him. "Don't lean over me like that, it's irritating!"
The Colonel just smiled. "What would you prefer I did, then?"
Sixteen years old and still only just clearing five feet five inches, it appeared the elder Elric brother would be short all his life. Colonel Roy Mustang seemed to find this endearing. Edward hated it, would always hate it. Hated the Colonel for liking it. Hated that the Colonel liked him hating it. Hated knowing that the Colonel liked teasing him about it and that no matter what, it still made him want to just—
That was when the Colonel slipped his arms under Ed's elbows and hoisted him up off his feet with disgusting ease. "Better, Fullmetal?"
Ed dangled there uncomfortably for a moment before violently vein-popping. "Put me down, bastard!" he snarled, digging his fingers, both human and metal, into the Colonel's arms. "Put me down right now!"
But the Colonel just gave him that smoldering look of his, and smiled, and asked, "Do you really want me to?" before closing the last foot of distance between them to press their bodies together.
Ed blinked, then went red. "In here? In the office?" was what he managed to say, nonplussed.
"Here is as good as anywhere else, don't you think, Edward?" Mustang's breath tickled his ear. "Would you have preferred somewhere more public? Does the possibility of being caught ... excite you?"
Edward balked again. "You really are a sick old pervert," he snapped, and as Mustang chuckled and shifted against him, he began to lose the precarious balance he had on Roy's forearms. He flung his metal arm around Roy's shoulder to keep from falling. "Bastard, if you let me fall I'll—"
"So now you want to be up here," smirked Roy. "You are fickle at times."
Ed flared. "I'll kick you in the balls with my foot. My metal foot!" he finished violently.
Mustang chuckled and lowered his head to Edward's neck, kissing him in that sensitive spot right behind his ear. Edward reacted with a little gasp, then a growl of frustration, his fingers tightening in Roy's jacket. "Then I suppose I'll have to be careful, since that wouldn't leave either of us particularly satisfied."
"Shut up," answered Ed, and Roy smiled into his neck because he could see in his mind's eye the irritated blush that Edward would be wearing at that moment. He pressed the younger man more firmly up against the wall with his weight, their bodies flush against each other, and dragged his tongue over the edge of Ed's ear, just because he knew exactly what would happen.
Ed delivered. "Don't do that!" he hissed with a violent shiver, arching away from the wall into Mustang.
Mustang promptly did it again. "Augh! Don't you ever listen?"
"You like it," Roy accused quietly, wrapping an arm around Ed's waist to help support the young man. "I can feel it in the pit of my stomach." He lifted a knee slightly, pressing it against Ed's thighs, but Ed did not let him part them, especially as the meaning of Roy's last statement sank in. He turned five shades of red, and then a somewhat purplish color. "Wh-wh-WHAAT!??"
Mustang only chuckled and resumed kissing Ed's neck while the younger man overcame his embarrassment, limping a bit in Roy's arms. Mustang pressed his advantage, slipping his knee between Ed's legs and lifting it higher, higher, pressing close again, sliding his other knee between Ed's legs. Then Ed revived enough to twitchingly mutter, "It's your fault, bastard."
"I know. That was rather my point," Roy replied, not a feather ruffled out of place. "Want me to do it again?" he teased, barely whispering the words into Ed's ear, his own hair brushing the young man's temple. He pressed himself a little closer again, forcing Edward's legs to part further. Reflexively, Ed lifted his legs a bit to accommodate him.
There was the barest of pauses before Ed shook his head sharply, an emphatic, "NO!" his answer. And so Mustang flicked his tongue over the place where the top of his ear met his skull, then breathed into the shell of his ear, and then gently bit the lobe of his ear, until Edward was twitching, caught somewhere between blind rage and his emergent desire. "B—... bastard ..." he gasped out, his metal fingers wrapped around a wad of the Colonel's jacket, his human hand wedged between their bodies as if to push Roy away, only he had grasped Roy's dress shirt and was holding him tightly to himself.
"Is that all you have to say?" Mustang asked, sliding the index finger of his free hand over the waistband of Ed's pants, pressing just hard enough so that Ed would know that finger was there. Edward squirmed, just a little, quailing.
"You're serious about this? In your office—?"
Roy gave an over-exaggerated sigh, and with one smooth motion he dropped his weight over the younger man, pressing him harder against the wall, pushing his hips forward and forcing Ed's legs to part further and lift higher until their pelvises were crushed together. Ed let out the barest squeak, then glared fire as if daring Roy to say anything.
Mustang moved his hips against Edward's, watching Ed's face for reaction, and the young man inhaled a little, sweating. "Contrary to your claim," Roy began, reaching up to the Fullmetal Alchemist's neck and unclasping the snap holding his overshirt closed, "I am not so much of a bastard that—" he ran his fingers over the tank top covering Edward's chest and abdomen—"I would leave you half-finished like that." He paused over Ed's wide leather belt, ignoring the outraged half-cry Edward gave at his words. "See everything through until the end, Fullmetal." He began to undo the belt. "Being hasty the way you are can cause problems later down the road."
Edward bristled, becoming stiff between Roy and the wall. "Who are you saying doesn't think things through and gets himself into dangerous situations!? Hey! Don't laugh at me, you stupid bastard!"
But it seemed Roy could not stop his chuckles as he undid Ed's belt, popped open his pants button, and unzipped his pants. "Do you really think you can order your superior officer around, Fullmetal?" he smirked, hooking his fingers in Ed's pants and under his boxers, dragging both down over Ed's buttocks and thighs. He could only get the material down so far, with Ed's legs already wrapped around his waist, but it was enough; the Full Metal Alchemist was already at a furiously blushing, scowling, glaring full mast. Mustang pressed his clothed groin to Edward's naked one, and rubbed; Edward's eyes widened, and he bit his lip, sweating harder. "Well?"
"Sh-shut up!" Edward gasped instead, his knees tightening to either side of Roy's torso as he fought for neutrality of voice and features. His hips seemed to move of their own accord, jerking against Roy's; he arched against the material of Roy's uniform, digging permanent grooves into Mustang's clothing with his fingernails.
But Roy pressed down on Ed's hip, pressing him again to the wall, stopping his movements. "Patience, Edward. This is what I was talking about before," he said, reaching into his back pocket when Edward's breath had slowed a bit, although his red-faced scowl hadn't abated. "Hold this." He pressed lubrication against the hand Ed had fisted in his shirt.
Ed took it, reflexively it seemed, not moving his glare from Roy's face until Roy offered him another infuriatingly smug smile, shrugging his free arm out of his jacket, then switching the arm supporting Edward against the wall and shedding the jacket entirely, except for Edward's hand still tightly wrapped in it. "You can let go of the jacket now," Roy said helpfully.
Ed started slightly and let go for a long enough moment to let the jacket fall to the floor, and then, his balance still a bit precarious, clutched the back of Mustang's dress shirt for support. He looked at the tube of lubrication in his hand, and frowned slightly. "Wait ... this was in your back pock—and you—so—" there was a pause.
"Yes, Edward?" Mustang prompted, and Edward shot him a glare that could have melted metal.
"You were planning this from the beginning of the day!" he snapped.
Mustang just smiled at him.
"Mm." Mustang dropped his hand to his own pants.
"I'm not that damned predictable!"
"Of course you are," Roy disagreed. He unbuttoned his pants meticulously, and unzipped them casually, before hooking his thumb and forefinger into his pants and boxers and shoving them down over his thighs until they fell of their own accord. He looked back up at the seething young man being supported mostly by the wall and his arm, and leaned forward over him. "But only to me." And he shoved their naked groins together again, bringing the slightly-flagging Edward back again to attention.
When Edward was again reduced to gasping, Mustang, fighting slightly for breath himself, deemed him ready to move on to the next step. "Open the lubricant," he whispered in Ed's ear.
"'ly if you admit I'm not that predictable," Edward answered between breaths, giving Roy a less-than venomous glare.
"Are we still on that?" Mustang asked mildly, snatching the lubricant from Edward's hand upon the boy's defiance. He popped the top off with his thumb, and it fell to the ground, skittering away to a place neither noted. "Ah, well, since you won't help—" he began to remove his arm from behind Edward's back.
Losing his support, Ed yelped and flung his free arm around the Colonel's neck and hooked his ankles behind his waist, while Roy pressed up closer to make up for the loss, reconfirming Edward's place against the wall. He then poured the lubricant onto his fingers and, with a smirking smile for Edward's glare of helplessness, stroked his own erection to fullness, brushing against Edward's erection once in a while, causing a spasm of pleasure to dart across Ed's features. Finally, however, the Colonel had mercy and slid his slicked fingers over Edward, leaving him trembling.
It was so gentle at first that Ed didn't even notice the subtle brush of Mustang's finger over his anus. However, the wet touch became more insistent, rubbing in circles, gradually coaxing and forcing the muscle ring to relax enough to let a finger in up to the first knuckle. Again, Edward found himself digging his fingers into the Colonel's shoulders, but this time with a grimace. He bit his lip, and Mustang forced the finger in further. Edward held his breath until the pain of it became more tolerable, and a second finger was added.
This is nothing next to this arm. This is nothing compared to my leg, he told himself, but he forgot all about it as a wave of pleasure hit when Mustang again stroked Edward's erection. Distracted so, he was taken away from the pain as Roy he forced his slick fingers up into the younger man, and he took no notice when the fingers were removed.
That was the part that required the most skill, in Mustang's opinion; now came the fun part. He withdrew his lubricated hand from Edward's erection and grasped Edward's body, his thumbs around Edward's hips, his fingers splayed over the young man's buttocks, drawing the desired gasp of outrage out of his subject. Roy lifted Ed's bottom high enough to accommodate his own entrance into the young man. He pressed his erection against Edward's entrance and reveled in the feeling, rolling his hips a bit while Edward squirmed, blushing despite himself and glaring because of it. Roy leaned his shoulder into Edward, pushing him back until whole back was flat against the wall. "Ready?" he asked in a husky voice, half in mockery.
"Just do it, you smug bastard," Ed strangled out, clearly unable to wait any longer; his fingers clenched into Roy's shirt as if they would never let go, his entire body tremblingly still.
"As you wish," Roy said, bemused, and bucked his hips up into Edward before slowly lowering him down onto his erection.
Edward's eyes widened the way they always did at penetration, and he let out the same small gasp of surprise. "Ungh—" He let his head fall back against the wall, pressing his hips forward against Mustang's hands.
Mustang pushed back, keeping Ed tightly up against the wall, letting him in no way control the speed of his penetration. He pressed Edward there until he had buried himself inside the young man to the root. He paused there for a long moment, amusing himself with Edward's impatient glare and humiliated demand—"Well!?"
Roy smirked and debated letting Ed just sit there, filled with Roy's erection, for a few moments longer, but his own desire won out in the end. He leaned forward, holding Edward in place with his sheer body weight, and pulled out of him slowly before pushing in again much more quickly, watching as Edward's expression subtly changed from a bit pained to pleasured to angry to unwillingly needy; Roy drew almost as much pleasure from Edward's reactions as from his body. He was small, and thus tight, and soon it was an effort to keep his gaze focused on Edward, meeting his half-hearted stare. He increased his pace rapidly, gasping a little, pressing his teeth together.
Edward bucked against the pressure of Roy's weight, gasping and trembling; his fingers clenched in the shoulders of Roy's shirt and he gripped Roy's sides with his thighs, fighting to have some control, to measure the pace. But Mustang would have none of it, holding Edward's hips tightly in place and stroking in and out of him in long, fast stabs, grunting softly, and Ed found he no longer had the voice to object, choking down gasps of pleasure. Each time Roy moved his shirt rubbed against Ed's erection, pressing it tightly between Edward and himself, almost teasing him with the friction.
It was Edward who climaxed first, his throbbing erection trapped between their bodies, soaking their shirts with semen. He came silently, as always, his teeth clenched together in denial of sound. Roy continued to thrust into him, and a moment later, he followed, spilling himself deep inside Edward's bowels with a groan of sated desire. They remained poised against each other for one long instant, trapped in the throes of pleasure, before finally relaxing.
Roy sagged against Edward, sandwiching the young man between himself and the wall; Edward let out his breath in a rush of wind past Mustang's ear. Both were silent while Roy struggled to find the strength to hold Edward up long enough to pull out of him, but when he finally did, gently setting Edward back down on the ground, the young man promptly gasped and collapsed, grimacing. "That hurt, you bastard," he muttered through trembling lips, wiping his own seed off his stomach and grimacing at the wetness of his shirt. If only for a moment.
"Not as much as you enjoyed it," Mustang finished for him, rolling to his back against the wall and sliding down it to sit next to Edward. He looked down at his own semen-stained shirt. "You owe me for the dry-cleaning."
"What!? When it was you—and then—after—" Edward began, before he grimaced again. "Ah, fuck you."
"I'd rather fuck you," answered Roy, catching his breath and pulling his pants back up. He smirked at the outraged glare his comment received, reflecting that the clich—of it was worth Edward's reaction, then got to his feet, hiding his unsteadiness well. "At least join me on the couch to get some rest."
"..." Edward eyed the couch unwillingly, and Mustang raised an eyebrow.
"Would you rather nap against the wall, too?"
Edward glared up at him. "I'd—.... Yes," he snapped, a telltale blush on his face. He struggled to get his pants up around his waist proper again without moving the lower half of his body.
Ah, so that was it. "You can't walk?"
"It's your fault," Ed barked back reflexively before he could even think.
"Rather," Roy smirked. "Ah well. I'll carry you there."
Fortunately, Edward was too incoherent at the insult to form a proper response, and was carried over despite red-faced glares of death.
Ed found Roy's chest a much more comfortable place to doze than the wall.
And if Roy took the opportunity to smile and run his fingers along Ed's spine to feel the muscles spasm under his fingers, who was there to care?