The Binary Alchemist (binaryalchemist) wrote in fm_alchemist,
The Binary Alchemist
binaryalchemist
fm_alchemist

FMA HOLIDAY SPECIAL: A MIDWINTER'S TALE PT 4; FEVER DREAMS

FMA HOLIDAY SPECIAL: A MIDWINTER’S TALE, PT 4: FEVER DREAMS
By binaryalchemist
Rating: NC-17 for adult content, yaoi and language. This chapter NSF!
Parings: Roy/Ed, past Hughes/Roy, Alphonse/A Cast of Thousands,Winry/Pitt Renback from the FMA novel “Under The Faraway Sky”
SPOILERS: post manga, stand-alone story from the Half Lives ‘verse
SUMMARY: On a lonely Solstice night, Alphonse cheers Roy up with a challenge: "You've never told me about the men in your life. What about Brother? What about Hughes?" And the best stories begin with the words, "...no sh*t, there I was..."
THIS CHAPTER:  The last time Roy Mustang fell seriously for another man, it was for his best friend. Now Roy is ready to try anything—even chastity—to stop thinking about the younger man currently passed out and snoring in the room across the hall…

Feedback greatly appreciated-----“Half Lives”, “Whole Lives” , “Our Lives” and other fics hosted at fanfiction.net at http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1651220/BinaryTales   and also at  my new host  at AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/users/Binaryalchemist Thanks for reading!!!

HOLIDAY SPECIAL: A MIDWINTER’S TALE
PART 4: FEVER DREAMS
By The Binary Alchemist 2013

            Now then…you people with a nasty imagination---or those who’ve heard tell of me being ‘morally bankrupt’ to the core of my rotten soul---are probably imagining some pretty raunchy things about this point.
           I know Alphonse was….for a second.
           He put down his glass. “Brother told me…wait a minute…he said the first time with you was when he was in the hospital in Central! That time when he kicked the guardrails off the bed and you two were making so much noise it scared the kids in the pediatrics ward!”
           I folded my hands behind my head, smiling at the memory. “Exactly. You would not believe the amount of cens I had to donate to the hospital charity ward fund to keep it hushed up.”
           “But Ed was on your bed, naked. You had him in your arms. And nothing happened??”
           “Alphonse, as much as it pains me to admit this, you are not the Last True Gentleman left in Amestris. Even I have scruples…on occasion….”
###
           Awake and pissed off, Edward was like a tightly coiled spring. Drunk, he was utterly boneless. We scooped him up off the side of the bed, half dragged him into the bathroom and essentially poured him into the tub. Kain came upstairs with a tea towel filled with finely cracked ice folded inside and a bottle of aspirin—relief for now and for later.
           I knelt down and arranged the cold pack on his soon-to-be-throbbing head and, with great reluctance, covered his loins with a wet towel.
           A better man than I am would not have risked a peek.
           You don’t get to where I am in politics and the military by always being the better man.
           It, too, was boneless as he was—but in the dim light of the bathroom and underwater I saw enough of him to decide that, if the occasion arose, I would never kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
           (I’m sure he will beat the shit out of me for saying this—he doesn’t take after his brother, or, presumably, his burly father Hohenheim. I’ve walked in accidentally on Al while he was entertaining his lady friends and can confirm the impressiveness of his endowments. Edward…well…remember he was quite short in stature until after his sixteenth birthday. He grew taller….but not specifically bigger.  Oh, it’s generous enough, all things considering. I’m extremely fond of it and wouldn’t change it for the world and have spent some of the best hours of my life paying it my most ardent respects…but he was never in any danger of poking himself in the eye.
           What about my own endowments, you ask?
           Let us just say that my name is…appropriate….and leave it at that, shall we?)
           
           I found myself kneeling on the wet bathroom floor, one arm supporting Ed’s head from lolling back and smacking against the tile wall, while the other hand held the ice pack in place. Ed was hovering around consciousness, humming slightly. He snorted, then his head pressed against my cheek. Under the wet towel, I saw his cock stir. He sighed and snuggled drunkenly against me, chuckling under his breath.
He mumbled something. “Asshole.”
           I was pretty damn sure he was not referring to his wife..
           Suddenly, my knees weren’t the only thing feeling cramped.
           I yelled for Havoc to haul him out and dry him off. I had pajamas to fetch and a painful erection to conceal.
          
           Sebastian had unpacked Ed’s gear, laying his toiletries on my dresser: comb, hairbrush, ties for his hair, toothbrush and such.  By the morning, all the vomit stains would be gone from his clothing, his shoes would be polished and he could step out the front door, whistling out of tune, and nobody would be any wiser about his bender at the President-Elect’s house.
           Sebastian and Havoc got him into bed while I carried a few items to the guest room across the hall—and I paused.
           Downstairs, I heard Hawkeye on the phone to someone, telling them where Ed was.
           I marched down and was about to chew here out. “You didn’t say I couldn’t call Izumi,” she challenged. “Somebody needs to know he’s not hurt or killed.”
           That kind of thinking is why she has remained my adjutant all these years. “What did she say?”
           “She didn’t seem surprised. She’s already talked to Winry.”
           “And?”
           “The phrase she used was ‘they need some time to cool off’. And she doesn’t like being n the middle, any more than Pinako or Alphonse. She said she’d let Pinako know he’s safe and with friends. Oh, and that little Maes really liked the stuffed cat Ed got for him, the one that Gracia made. He…wasn’t upset about Ed being gone.”
           “Not this year,” I sighed. “He’s young. If those two aren’t careful, that kid will be as emotionally screwed up as his father. Anyway,” I nodded, “good job. I’ll give you a call in the morning—let you know how he’s doing. Goodnight, Hawkeye.”
           “Sir!”

           “Aspirins?” I pointed to the china saucer with a couple of tablets by the water carafe on the nightstand.
           “Yeah. Thanks.” He was awake and able to talk, having vomited out most of the alcohol in his stomach. He was still going to have one mother of a hangover in the morning, and I planned to dose him with a horrible concoction that Hughes used to call Scrape Me Off The Ceiling—as in it would jolt you awake like a very sharp stick being rammed up your ass. It’s disgusting—but when you have to wake up sober and wake up fast it will do the trick.
           ….but that was for the morning. It was half past one and he slid back under the covers after downing his pain relief.  I was relaxing in my leather arm chair by the bedroom hearth, a volume of Hermes Trismegistus’ Emerald Tablet of Alchemy as a bit of light reading before bedtime. “What are you doing in here?”
           “Reading. This is my room, you know. And making sure you’re all right before I turn in. Hate for you to die, Ed. The paperwork would be a pain in the ass.”
           “Did I do anything….?”
           “Stupid? Probably. But nobody here is going to talk about it. And,” I added, “far as I’m concerned, the door’s open.  Come when you want. Go when you please. Plenty of room. Ice box is always full. Need anything, Sebastian will take care of it.”
           “You got a butler now?”
           “I’ve got a body guard who serves great coffee, can fold my sheets into army corners when he makes the bed, gets my uniforms back from the cleaner on time and treats my friends better than I do. And if he ever challenged Hawkeye to a duel, I’d be picking out her casket. Grumman’s got him over here so he can help me get organized before my swearing-in.”
           “Swearing in?” He grinned weakly. “Heh! Swearing at, you mean.” He turned on his side and closed his eyes. “I kicked you outta your own bed. Sorry.”
           “Buy me a drink sometimes and we’ll call that equivalent.”
           The thought of more booze made him groan. I grabbed the waste basket and shoved it to the side of the bed. “Puke on my pillow and you buy me a new one. In there---if you’ve got anything still in your stomach to throw up.”
            “Fuck you.”

            “Not in that condition.” I switched off the light. “Get some rest.”
          
           Seated in the arm chair by the fire, the book forgotten at my elbow. The play of light and shadow brought out the angles of his features. Sharp and keen still, but every last trace of boyishness was gone. I had never really seen Ed at rest, thick gold lashes flickering on his cheeks, a strand of long, damp hair stuck to the side of his face. He began to snore.
           I found myself standing over him. Adjusting the covers. Don’t want him to get sick and then have him move in up here.
           That’s what I told myself. “Checking for fever.”  My hand swept his messy bangs out of his eyes.  My fingers strayed to touch that hair, longer than they should have.
           Abruptly, I went back to the guestroom and closed the door tightly behind me.

           Goddamn it.
           Edward Elric had stumbled into my house, thrown up on my carpet, passed out in my bathtub…and grabbed hold of my organ.
           If it had been my cock, my life would have been a damn sight less complicated.
           But no—the son of a bitch grabbed my heart, damn it, and I had left him alone because I did not want to make a goddamn fool of myself.
           My fist slammed into the pillow. “Fuck it!” I swore. “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it! I don’t need this shit!” Another married man getting to me, ruining my life and here I was again, alone in my bed at night, hard as a brick and wanting to beat my head against the wall until I knocked some sense into myself.
            Lifting the covers, I glared at my erection. “Forget it,” I told him. “Let’s not make a bad situation worse.” Jacking off while thinking about Ed would be the single dumbest move I had made since falling in love with my best friend in at the academy, knowing from Day One that Hughes was besotted with the idea of finding The Perfect Woman.  Ed was married—however uncomfortably—and I would be good and goddamned if I was going to get into the middle of that mess.
           Closing my eyes, I mentally began repeating my General Orders from my cadet days. It was no damn good. Instead of  I will walk my post in a military manner, keeping always on the alert and observing everything that takes place within sight or hearing, I could hear Hughes braying “I will walk my beat, beat my meat, and fuck everything within fifteen feet!”
            And fifteen feet away, approximately, was Edward Elric…in my bed.
           My cock stirred, knocking impatiently against my belly. “At ease, soldier!”
           I wrapped my arms around my pillow, turned on my side and tried to get some rest…..

           I felt a hand on my shoulder.
           “Wake up.”
           I woke up.
           He was standing beside my bed, pajama shirt open. In the dim light from the open door I couldn’t see his face as clearly as I needed to. “Ed?”
           “You did this to me.”  As my eyes adjusted, I could see the front of his light blue pajama bottoms. My own neglected soldier jerked to full attention out of respect for a fellow officer.
           He bent down, obscuring my vision, but I could smell his skin and feel his hot breath against my face.
           He smelled clean, tasted clean and there was nothing desperate about the way his lips moved between mine. His tongue met mine half way and they curled around one another like the embrace of old friends who have been apart for many a long and lonely year. His hand slipped behind my head, drawing my face closer. My hands gripped his lean hips.
           The kiss broke. “You good with this?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t about to become the punch line of another “one night I got really drunk at Mustang’s house—no shit, there I was…” story.
           “Yeah.”
           “You ever….?”
           “You think I don’t know what to do?”
           “How the hell would I know?”
           He yanked off the covers between us and threw them on the floor. ‘I know what I’m doin’.”
           “Good.” After another suffocating kiss, I added, “Lock the goddamn door, will you?”

TO BE CONTINUED…..
          
         
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