The Pyromaniacal One (essenceofmalice) wrote in fm_alchemist,
The Pyromaniacal One

  • Mood:
  • Music:


Title: (Untitled for now)
Pairing: RoyxEd
Words: 4001
Rating: wait, NC-17 to be safe ^^;
Description: Roy pursues and Ed runs, or tries to. Ah hell, can I just list it as office foreplay? XD;; That does not go unnoticed and will likely be continued in later scenes.
Notes: Don't brick me too hard. >_<;;

“Come in,” was the short, clipped reply that seeped through the wooden door after just the lightest hint of knocking. Edward immediately peeked his blonde head inside, the usual smug cheerfulness plastered upon his young face.

“Yo!” he greeted with a mock salute of his gloved metal hand as a booted foot kicked the door shut behind him. He was met with the same hard look of dark eyes, peering at him almost indifferently from behind wispy black bangs. A blink later, Ed’s previous cheerfulness died with a sigh. Where was this guy’s sense of humor? Muttering silently to himself in the deep recesses of his head, he shuffled forward, farther into the office only to flop down onto one of the comfortable leather couches that sat in front of the Colonel’s desk.

“Well?” impatience resonated in Colonel Mustang’s deep voice, reinforced by the consecutive tapping of his pen upon the stack of papers that sat in front of him.

“Hm?” golden eyes turned to him lazily, blinking once, twice. But at the sight of what he had long ago dubbed “the death glare,” Ed chuckled nervously. “Report, right, right!” He scratched the back of his head. “You’re always so aware of my doings, I thought you didn’t need me telling you.” Edward grinned widely, resting his chin upon a gloved hand, which was in turn held up with an elbow that pressed into the leather arm rest of the couch. He noted that the death glare soon turned to expiration.

After three years everyone already knew how their relationship worked. More or less. And many wondered just how it was that they had not yet killed one another. It had not just been once that Lt. Hawkeye had to come in to intervene and, well, save the office from being burnt down. That night Ed had gone home missing a few centimeters of hair that had been left behind as ashes in his wake. But no injury had come out of it. And the office still stood. Much to everyone’s surprise.

“It is my job to know everything that goes on with the personnel under my jurisdiction,” Mustang informed him matter-of-factly, the words coming out from behind gritted teeth in a hiss.

“Everything?” a golden brow was raised.

The pen tapped still against the desk. “What are you getting at, Full Metal?”

A casual smile; the wave of a hand. “Nothing, Colonel.”

Silence reigned for a few moments until Edward heard the heavy pen drop upon the pillow of white papers. Heard the rustling of paper work as a neat stack that had been sitting to the left of the desk was picked up and held between gloved fingers. “I take it, then, that you have found nothing.”

“No,” he half-sighed, half-muttered, still not looking at his superior.

“And that you have once more destroyed half a city…”

The young alchemist fidgeted on the black leather cushions of the couch, uncrossing and crossing his legs. Arms were crossed over his chest. He felt the intensity of peering eyes gaze at him over the top edge of the typed report Mustang held in those deadly fingers.

“Things got complicated…” he mumbled his excuse, feeling the warmth of an undesired blush spread over his cheeks. Annoyed with the reaction, Edward convinced himself that it was merely hot in the office, despite the fact that he felt the cool breeze of the air conditioner blow above him from the high ceiling.

“Complicated?” prodded Mustang, allowing the papers to drop back onto his desk.

“Yes, complicated!” Ed shot back, glaring at the smug bastard sitting comfortably in that oversized high back chair of his.

“I gave you freedom to investigate, not destroy every place you come in contact with.”

Lips parted to speak, but Ed merely seethed, fuming angrily and yet had little place to complain. In fact he couldn’t complain, not when he was free to come and go as he pleased, only checking back to let them know of any news along his travels. He knew very well that it would just take one word out of Mustang’s mouth to make him doomed to remain in Central City. That was the last thing he wanted. Not when there was still so much to find out. All this time and still he had accomplished nothing. Metallic fingers balled into a tight fist over his knee. In his rage he had not noticed, however, that in the span of his thoughts and lowered gaze, Mustang had risen from his chair, and even had the time to march leisurely around his desk. It was only when he saw a pair of shinny black boots standing before him; the neat blue fabric of his superior’s uniform, that Edward realized that he stood before him. His head shot back, the small braid whipping against his back.

“I believe you agreed to this when you became my dog.” Golden eyes widened at the statement, at the way Mustang merely stood there before him, arms crossed at the wrists behind his back, staring down at him with that intense, piercing dark gaze.

“I am not your--” a gasp suppressed the remaining words that would have escaped his scowling lips. However, surprise came over him as he felt the soft fabric of gloved fingers wrap around his chin, tilting his head backward and his gaze upward. As he saw that handsome face lean so close to his own.

Really now Edward, of all things to be noticing at the moment. And yet he could not help but trace the chiseled lines with his golden gaze, as he merely sat there, vulnerable although could have easily broken away from the Colonel’s grasp; could have easily squared a hit – but that would mar that flawless skin, he caught himself thinking.

“Yes, you are my dog, whether you like it or not. And I will not have my men out there destroying half the country.”

Once more a protest did not come to him as Ed opened his mouth to do so, to snap back as he always did. And yet, something stopped him. The look in those eyes, perhaps, that unlike his tone were not reprimanding. Perhaps even the crooked grin upon the Colonel’s lips. “I-…”

Fingers released his chin, only to press lightly to his lips and silence his words. “The least you could have done was fixed it.”

Had he just heard that correctly? A golden brow was lifted in silent questioning. He dared not move his lips against those gloved fingertips that pressed ever-so-lightly, and there remained. But those fingers did move away seconds later, though the proximity between them did not quite diminish, much on the contrary, he noted, desperately wishing that he could get away with at least taking off his coat. That damn air conditioner could not possibly be working. “F-fixed it?” He swallowed the dry lump in his throat and shifted his body slightly. It was no use, the couch was behind him and he did not want to give Mustang the upper hand – which he already had, regardless – by having to duck around him in order to get away. However the truth was that he did not want to get away.

“Yes, fixed it. It would not hurt your reputation…”

“Or yours.” Edward muttered accusingly, eyes narrowing slightly at the widening grin upon the Colonel’s kissable lips. Had he just thought his lips were kissable? Well, they certainly were but that was not something he needed to be thinking about right now! In fact he should probably be going, after all the report was given, or rather the Colonel already knew all that had happened so… yes, he should go get some rest. Or go to the library! Yes! He needed to look up some things and should really do that now!

“Going somewhere?”

Ed froze, having not realized that he had begun to crawl down the length of the couch in a weak attempt to make it toward the door. Eyes widened, blinked. He glanced back over his shoulder, chuckling nervously. “I-I don’t want to keep you, certainly you’re quite busy and all so I thought I’d go and leave you alone to all that paperwork you probably have to get through before the morning.” He rambled on quickly, perhaps much too quickly. And yet he hardly cared if Mustang had caught most of it, as long as it got him out of there.

“How considerate.”

“That’s me!” He grinned, slowly slipping off the couch to stand, only to inch backward toward the door that still stood too far away. For the first time that afternoon, however, Ed was glad he still wore his coat as it did quite a good job of hiding any discomfort he might have been feeling in the lower areas below his slim waist.

Unfortunately for him, Ed did not notice the amused look that sparked in Mustang’s eyes. He did not realize that between him and the door was a smaller desk Lt. Hawkeye was usually found at. He did not realize it, that is, until it jammed into his lower back and thus stopped his slow progress toward the door. He could have released a small ‘meep’ then but chose the deer stuck in headlights look as his eyes caught the sight of impeccable blue approach him.

“I do not believe that I have dismissed you, Edward-kun.”

Maybe, just maybe he could get away with destroying this desk and calling it an accident. On second thought, perhaps it was best not to. He did not need Lt. Hawkeye aiming a gun at his head for something that he destroyed along with the desk. Besides, he was not even quite sure why there was this need to run away so badly. Besides the growing bulge that was beginning to show through his pants. “M-may I be dismissed then?” He attempted his best at sarcasm that fell dry upon his lips.

“No,” Mustang countered as he slammed both hands upon the counter top on either side of the young alchemist’s sides. Ed did his best not to jump, not to flinch and surprisingly enough was successful. A whimper did escape him, however, as he felt the brushing of the heavy fabric of his uniform tap against his legs; felt the warmth of that body nearing his own. His whimper was cut short moments later, eyes snapping open to stare past the head of neatly placed black hair as his lips were claimed, kissed, ravished. Short seconds passed between the initial shock and the closing of lids, the touching of light golden lashes upon his cheeks as he felt the instant reaction to return the gesture claiming his body.

It was a strange sensation. There had been kisses in the past, meaningless things exchanged between the more daring fans that had made it close enough to steal one or two, but this…this was different. This was real, ardent. His body felt feverish, shaky - unstable if it were not for the hard wooden surface of the desktop holding him up. He idly noticed the trajectory of his own hand slipping up Mustang’s right arm, gloved fingers coming up to tangle into short black strands at the back of his neck. It was funny, really: only seconds earlier he had all intentions of running away, probably to soak himself under a painfully cold shower - and now his resolution had crumbled under that heated touch of the Colonel’s lips, of the brush of that tongue. There was a distinct taste to that kiss, mingled with a trace of coffee that had probably been consumed hours earlier to his arrival.

His mind was a blur of feelings and emotions; his body practically hurting with the insane sense of desire that soared between his legs. A soft groan melted into the kiss, which was broken soon after that. Ed did not have the courage to open his eyes, to look into those dark ones he knew were peering down at him. He did not have the courage to do anything but lean against that desk, but keep his fingers attached to that silky hair at the back of Mustang’s neck.

“Edward…” he shuddered at the husky whisper that flooded his mind, the soft breath that tickled his swollen lips. Courage returned then and golden eyes snapped open. Suddenly fingers knew what to do, descending down the front of the Colonel’s jacket, undoing each annoying clasp that stood in the way, only to be met with the simple white shirt that clung almost artfully to the toned body underneath. Acting on simple instinct, the pried those buttons open, revealing the expanse of his white chest beneath. Fingers shivered slightly, even more so as the gloves were pulled from them and tossed onto the desk top. He watched the shivers prickle over that exposed chest as the cool metal of fingertips graced his flesh. Edward hesitated, fingers hovering over heated skin as a small, uncertain frown touched his lips.

The time he had for hesitation was short, however. He felt his head being risen by a finger that had slid beneath his chin. Their gazes met for a short moment before lips collided again in a feverish dance of passion he could not control. Fingers fell upon that flesh once more, tracing the outlines of toned muscles even as he felt his body being leaned backward over the counter top. Much to his dismay his hands fell away from that soft flesh, elbows falling upon the wooden surface in order to hold himself up. His head fell backward, a soft appreciative moan escaping his lips as he felt the tracing of Roy’s – it was alright to think of him as such now, right? – own sliding down the length of his neck. Ed gasped sharply as those wandering, kissing lips brushed the sensitive flesh that connected with his auto-mail. It tore shivers down his spine and the rush of blood to his groin. When had his coat been brushed back to bundle around his elbows?, he wondered idly. Though his attention did not linger on such trivial details regarding the loss of clothing, but on the soft lips on the side of his neck. They did not linger there too long, however, as their trajectory moved those kisses downward, just as fingers slid upward to push that simple black tank top out of the way.

He felt his heavy belt being tugged at, the buckle undone; the button of his pants popping open soon thereafter. And that was when panic seized him, grasped all those fired nerves with a deadly cold hand. This…this little fantasy of his was actually happening, he realized in near-horror. “C-Colonel-“ his voice trailed off as those deep, dark eyes were turned to him. As he met them once more, watched the hunger that mirrored upon their shimmering surface. As he saw those half-parted lips glistening with the moisture of being recently wet by the pink muscle of his tongue. Those lips that hovered so closely over his navel, those lips that awaited further instruction just like the fingers that had frozen upon the zipper of his pants. Those lips that quirked upward ever slightly, bringing a devious glint to those dark eyes.

“Kinky…” he whispered with a husky chuckle deep within his throat.

Kinky? What was kinky? Edward blinked at him, and arched a brow but then it hit him. What he had just whimpered out. Well, just how was he supposed to address him?! I suppose just ‘Roy’ would do, perhaps, and yet seemed as if he were stepping out of line. He blinked once more, then found himself chuckling. Yea, ‘Colonel’ in this situation did sound kind of kinky, he admitted silently to himself. And in this, his momentary anxiety was gone, for the most part.

And in having no further complaint, he watched as Mustang bowed his head once more. Ed sighed contently at the silky strands that tickled his abdomen, tight as it was with anticipation, with desire. He heard the faint descent of the zipper and swallowed dryly. There was no time to stop him, to react before he felt the intense warm of his member collide with the cool air of the room, only to shortly there after be enveloped in the hot cavern of his mouth. Lips parted, releasing a cry that had perhaps been much too loud for the time of day and place they were in. This reminded him that the door was not locked. And yet he could not bring himself to honestly care about that right now. Not when he was barely able to contain himself. Not when flesh and metal scratched at the surface of the desk, knocking over a couple of folders to the floor. Papers scattered over the wooden blocks. They would be later blamed on the wind that blew in through the window.

He wanted it to last and yet felt the convulsions in his abdomen telling him that such a thing would not be possible. So this was what it was like. This…sensation of euphoria singing in his head that was thrown back once more as teeth grit painfully against one another, to stifle a cry that had built up in the back of his throat. Minutes passed in a whirr of emotions, of feeling. “I…I…” he gasped sharply and squirmed, hips shifting upward against that mouth that indulged him, that pleasured him, that swallowed him whole and seemed to beg for more with each stroke of that strong tongue. Edward could hold on no longer. His body unaccustomed to such blissful treatment, shuddered pleasantly, twitched almost violently as he gripped onto the edge of the desk to the point that he felt the wood chipping under the pressure of his right hand. A droplet of red slid down his chin, seeping from a cut upon his bottom lip, which he had bitten into harshly in order to silence himself from emitting a cry that would certainly reveal them both to any passer-bys.

The ceiling whirled above him. The cool air escaping the air ducts felt good against his blushed face. He dully heard the crash of pens and pencils fall to the floor and roll away from the desk, stopping as they collided either into the wall or a nearby chair. The ceiling was soon replaced with dark eyes, smirking lips that descended down upon his own. Edward shivered at the taste that there lingered. No longer just the aftermath of coffee and the taste that belonged to Roy but also the bitter saltiness he knew belonged to himself. A bright flush spread over his face at that thought.

“Nnghn..” Ed mumbled, feeling his body being lifted off the previously neat paperwork that had been left on top of the desk. His body collided against Mustang’s own. He heard the deep rumble of a chuckle within his chest. He would have raised a hand to slap at his arm if he had the strength, or even control over his limp limbs. But it was not the case. Edward merely leaned against him, using his body as support while his own returned to normality, or something close to it.

“You’re glowing…” Mustang pointed out smugly, which received a half-assed glare in return. “Well, you are,” the little smug bastard insisted. Smug…a bastard, but gods those lips were heaven.

Gradually clothes were restored, the buckle redone, the coat placed back upon his shoulders. Much to Ed’s dismay. He watched the Colonel silently, allowing himself to be re-dressed without a word of protest. Golden eyes watched that handsomely carved face, the features that expressed so little and yet so much to those that knew him. He reached out, warm digits pressing against his bare chest. “Don-don’t you want something..?” he asked shyly.

Dark eyes were turned to him, which caused those cheeks to flame up once more. He blinked as Mustang leaned closer, lips brushing his earlobe lightly. A whisper snaked out past those tainted lips to infiltrate the recesses of his mind. “I still have work to do. Will call for you before the end of the day.” A kiss touched his jaw-line before he leaned back once more, leaving Ed stunned. Not to mention rather pleased. His usual grin touched that young face, but he said not a word and reached out to button up the white shirt and jacket he had undone earlier on, which were now not as neatly pressed as they had once been. But it was not like anyone would question him, of all people. And thus he did not give it a second thought as he jumped off the desk, composing himself. He nodded with his usual mock salute before turning on his heel and this time walking properly around the desk and toward the door. He did not glance over his shoulder as heavier footsteps moved away from him, as leather creaked and papers were composed upon the Colonel’s desk once more. Edward merely smiled to himself as he opened the door to step out into the hall.

In that same hall he paused, blinking as he came face to face with both Hughes and Havoc, leaning a little too casually against the wall on either side of the door. Havoc puffing almost desperately on his cigarette and Hughes glancing around the spots on the ceiling. Both tried their best not to stare at him as he stepped outside and closed the door. That was when Edward flushed furiously and walked away rather quickly before any questions were raised.

“Edward-kun, you’re back.” Lt. Hawkeye greeted him cheerfully but then blinked, puzzled as he merely ducked his head and waved briefly at her before rushing on by. A mere mumbled reply serving as the greeting. For now. “Odd,” he heard her say before ducking into a hall and sprinting away, feeling much like a child that had just stolen from the neighbor’s yard, but when in fact his crime had been worse – much worse, he noted with a smug grin. He was not even sure if it was something to be smug over. A pause. Yes, yes it was. He heard the whispering talks of some of the female (and male) staff praising the Colonel and wishing they could grace his sheets. Granted that he had not quite graced his sheets, per se but the possibility was not to be ruled out just yet.

Her blonde hair shook as she continued on down the hall, carrying a couple of folders and a mug of steaming coffee toward the office. Outside, she met Havoc and Hughes, but given that those two never did act their age, she did not question and slipped inside. “I’ve brought the files you requested, Colonel.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” He responded casually, never ceasing his writing, not even to glance up as she dropped the two folders upon the edge of his desk before crossing toward her own.

She blinked upon coming to face with the scattered papers that had flown to the floor and fallen writing utensils she crouched down to pick up from the floor. “Did something happen here?”

“Windows were open,” he returned in the same cool composure. Perhaps too cool.

She raised a brow but did not question, returning to her desk. The chair was pulled out and she sat, reorganizing her paperwork until noting something…strange. White gloved fingers picked up a simple, thin red band. She eyed it suspiciously, even more so as a couple of wavy blonde hairs were pulled from it. “Windows, uh?” She muttered almost inaudibly under her breath.

Only then did Mustang glance up. “Did you say something?” Dark eyes peered at her from behind slightly disheveled bangs, but otherwise collected features.

“Nothing, Colonel,” Riza responded, tucking the suspicious red hair-tie into one of her drawers for safekeeping. Nothing at all, she mused silently to herself.

Comments appreciated it. Very much appreciated. Oh and anyone have any ideas for a title? It's too late and my brain no longer works. o_o;

Crossposted to fma_yaoi and my own journal.

  • Post a new comment


    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded