Disclaimer: Don't own it; 'nuff said.

Ten Times to Fall

The first time Edward had sex wasn't anything like what he'd read in Winry's trashy romance novels that she had hidden in her toolbox. No nonsensical but sweetly murmured words were whispered into his ear. No love filled eyes soothed away his apprehension. No soft caresses to slowly bring him to an earth-shattering climax. No strong arms to hold him gently afterwards as he trembled from pleasure. There was only fire.

Edward's first time was painful as he was slowly breached before being taken roughly (desperately) against the hard wooden desk. The feeling of being taken wasn't gentle but Edward was used to pain in his life. He turned the pain into a desperate pleasure just to feel something...anything. Just the thought and the carnal act of sex was enough to drive him over the edge as he reached completion despite the near brutality of it. The black eyes of his superior officer held no love in them for Edward, only a burning lust that had overtaken them both the moment Edward stepped through the door. In the aftermath, no words were spoken as they dressed. Everything and nothing had been said in their shared passion. Mustang tidied his desk while Edward straightened his hair and left the room.

It was only sex, Edward had told himself as he closed the door.

Edward's second time had been on a Friday night. Everyone from Mustang's office had just finished a gruelling week when Havoc declared an end-of-week drinking and office-bonding session. Edward had laughed and shared drinks with the rowdy crew. Personal from other offices were scattered throughout the bar and drifted towards Mustang's group, drawn in by the unity they saw and the chance to talk to the famous Fullmetal Alchemist. Edward had enjoyed getting to know the people behind the faces he had only seen and by the time the night was through had begun to feel like he may actually belong.

As the night neared its end, Edward could feel Mustang's eyes burning into him. A quick smirk and the tip of his head was all the Colonel gave before he called it a night and left the bar. Edward didn't acknowledge Mustang's farewell and he hadn't feel the need to watch him leave. All Edward did was take one the last swallow of his drink and shrug on his coat before making it out into the crisp spring air.

The hand that pulled Edward down the alleyway had the familiar white glove on with the powerful array stitched meticulously into its fabric. Woven in with a red which burned with intensity as strong as the flames it created (a bright red which burned as brilliantly as its owner). Edward itched to get closer, to examine it, to pull it apart and discover its secrets. He wanted to know everything about it.

The array and the secrets to fire alchemy was the knowledge he wanted, Edward told (convinced) himself.

Edward had gasped and groaned as he was taken as roughly as the first time. The damp stone wall against his back did nothing to cool the burning fire that had overtaken his body. His hands, both flesh and metal, had clung onto the back of Mustang's shirt as the older man groaned in pleasure. Edward had trembled and his vision went white as he felt more pleasure in the second time than the first.

His ruined shirt and the scrapes on his back from the wall that had served as a reminder of the burning lust he had been consumed in again. Even though the marks healed without scarring, Edward feels he can still see them...even now.

The third time Edward had sex was on a train journey. His automail had been ruined from an explosion in the research lab he had been working in. Mustang had nominated himself to accompany Edward back to Risembool. Edward had scoffed and called him a lazy bastard. The response held no attempt at defending Edward's comment; it was only a small smile.

Mustang had followed Edward to the train's only bathroom and locked them both in. Their coupling was harsh, desperate, fulfilling and everything more. Afterwards, Edward had trembled and leant his right, armless, side against the wall. The speed of it all left Edward still aroused despite his mental satisfaction. Mustang didn't comment. His black eyes glimmered as he studied Edward's flushed form.

Edward gasped and his knees buckled, almost sending him to the floor if it weren't for the hands on his waist holding him (supporting him) up. He tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers carded through and grasped at the thick black hair of the Colonel who responded with a smile that Edward felt rather than saw. The pleasure that coursed through Edward felt like lava, leaving him unable to utter a coherent sound.

The fifth time Edward has sex was right back where he had started. Everyone had gone home and Edward has naked from the waist down, supporting himself against the back of the couch. The Colonel had wasted no time and both men quickly found themselves slaves to their desires. The air in the room mirrored their lust; hot, heavy and consuming. Edward let himself go, he stopped thinking, stopped trying to rationalise what they were doing, and just let himself be swept away in the pleasure that Mustang wrung from his body.

The soft, distant click of a lock shouldn't have sounded like a gunshot but Edward heard it and froze. Wide-eyed and disbelieving, Edward tried to jerk away from the Colonel but instead clenched at the back of the couch even harder as Mustang had grasped Edward's hips in a vice-like grip and rocked desperately against the blond. Edward stifled his gasps by leaning forward into the couch and savagely biting down on the soft cushions.

In the silence of their lust driven actions, Edward could hear the soft footfalls of a person walking around the outer office. The only barrier between safety and discovery was the solid wooden door which, in that moment, looked no more solid than rice paper. Mustang never showed any sign of fear as he relentlessly teased and touched and forced an onslaught of pleasure on Edward.

When the footsteps faded and the snick of the outer door closing had been heard, Edward growled as his release came as suddenly as the fear of discovery had fled. Mustang leaned forward and smirked into Edward's shirt covered back before thrusting deeply one last time as he too was driven over the edge. They cleaned up the office and fixed up the couch which now had finger shaped dents on the back. Edward dressed while Mustang settled back at his desk to finish the paperwork he had abandoned for the sake of pleasure.

When he left, Edward scowled while Mustang leant back in his chair and laughed.

The sixth time...

The seventh...

The eighth...

The ninth...

The tenth time Edward had sex was the most terrifying of all.

Mustang had been promoted to General. Edward had only offered a half hearted congratulations but really wanted to say it was about time someone recognised all you've done. Mustang only smiled but Edward felt that those black eyes had sparked with the knowledge of everything Edward hadn't said.

When had they gotten so good at reading each other?

The impromptu celebration was being held at the newly minted General's house. A small plain-looking house, that was in a nice, normal neighbourhood. Edward had thought that it didn't do the man justice; but why did he care?

Everyone was relaxed and happy. There was food and drinks and speeches of congratulations (of victory and the step closer Mustang was to his goal). Mrs. Hughes had been there and she had offered a motherly smile with a plate of food for Edward who was, for once, too nervous to eat. Edward spent most of the evening nibbling on bits of food to appease his worried friends but he was too aware of the house he was in. The books that lined the shelves, the paintings on the walls, the colours, the smell, and the heat were all glaring signs of the man himself.

Edward had attempted to leave with the last of the party-goers but one fiery look from black eyes kept him captive in the house. They made it to the bedroom before losing their clothes. The General stripped Edward frantically as Edward grappled with the man's belt. The soft feel of the sheets and the cushioning mattress were foreign to Edward who had never used a bed for the purpose of slaking his lust. Edward expected their usual frantic and pleasurable sex but Mustang's gentle ministrations were also foreign...and it scared him.

The man trapped Edward between the bed and his body before dipping his head low and worshipping Edward's body slowly. Edward thrashed against the sheets as the slow build up of pleasure drove him mad. He scrabbled with his fingertips at Mustang's back as the man pulled himself back to Edward's face. Edward set his wide, frightened eyes against the General's dark eyes which burned with a fire Edward had never seen before. The first kiss was soft, slow (loving) and Edward tried desperately to swallow the lump that built up in his throat and told himself that the stinging in his eyes wasn't because of that.

Mustang skilfully brought Edward closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy as he slowly and gently moved above the blond. Edward squeezed his eyes shut when Mustang peppered kissed over his throat and jaw before reaching his lips. Their second kiss was hot, and passionate but still slow and filled with everything they could never say. Everything they would never let themselves say.

Edward woke at dawn. His legs were tangled with another pair and his pillow was the hard chest of Amestris' newest General. He gently pried himself away from the warm body and out of the bed, trying to brush away the feeling that he had left a part of him in that bed with that man.

He changed quickly and felt, rather than saw, the General wake up. Mustang (Roy!) didn't say anything as he leaned against his headboard, silently watching Edward get ready. He didn't stop Edward from leaving the bedroom. He didn't stop him from leaving the front door. He didn't stop Edward from leaving him.

Instead Roy watched Edward go and left him with a look in his eyes that Edward didn't want to understand, but deep down he knew what it said.

Edward walked calmly out the door, his head held high and his expression clear. He walked as if out on an early Sunday morning stroll with no real rush and no set destination. His mind swirling with thoughts of his mother, of Alphonse, of Nina, of Maes Hughes; those who he had let himself love (and look what he did to them).

Once Edward had made it two blocks away from that house he trembled. He threw an arm out to support himself against the wall of a shop and held his other (cold, metal...unfeeling) hand against his mouth as he choked on a desperate sob.

It was only sex, Edward told (lied to) himself.

Then why did his heart hurt so much?

The tenth time Edward had sex was more painful than the first.

It was more memorable than the second

...more pleasurable than the third

...more dangerous than the fifth

...but most of all, for Edward, the tenth time was more than enough.

It was also the last.