A quick fic about Roy's hobby. I don't own FMA.

Roy liked to draw. Most alchemists had some artistic ability since it was needed to create transmutation circles, but many didn't draw anything beyond that. Their talent ended with circles and alchemic formulas. Roy however had been doodling since he was a boy, the long curving hillsides and farm animals of his home town filling his sketchbook until his grandfather died and Madam Christmas took him in. His muse seemed to die with the last of his family, leaving him to meet Riza's father and dive into the every changing flow of gases and twisting flame, as unpredictable as his adolescent self.

It wasn't until years later, comfortable in the military did he finally find his muse again in the most unlikely of places. Ed seemed to embody that wild flame Roy fell in love with during his youth and in the same way he had learned to control fire, he attempted to control Ed. Of course they came to blows, leaving Roy scorched but invigorated.

It was surprising the first time he sat at his desk, sketching Ed as the boy sat restlessly in the office waiting for Alphonse, still new in his body, to get back from lunch with Breda and Havoc. That's where Roy's desire had started. Tracing the hard jaw, of the now nineteen-year-old man sent a shiver through him. The details of how Ed's hair fell across his cheek and hard muscular arm looped casually over of the back of the couch were addicting. Roy found himself wanting to roll his tongue over the lips his pencil had just brought to life on the paper.

It was frightening, this lust that fueled him whenever the urge to doddle Ed struck him. Roy started looking for excuses to get Ed and him alone with his sketchbook. Ed must have noticed, especially since Roy did nothing to hide his new found desire. And it was just a matter of time until Ed, bored and waiting for Roy to come back to brief him on an assignment, found his sketchbook filled with pages upon pages of himself.

Roy was embarrassed, a little self conscious Ed had stumbled upon what he considered amateurish doodles. But then the questions began, and Roy felt his gut wind in desire and panic. He confessed. How else could he explain why his sketchbook contained nothing but drawings of Ed? To say Ed jumped him was an understatement. One minute Roy was trying to keep his nerves at bay with the old moves he had used countless times on women, and the next he was falling back onto the floor with his arms full of Edward Elric being silenced by a pair of insistent lips.

That was how Roy found himself months later, Ed splayed out on his bed gorgeously naked as his pencil formed the young man's hard abs. God he was beautiful, the automail's hard lines contrasting with the smooth flow of warm skin. He licked his lips as he formed the perfect oval of the nipple, Ed's gaze piercing into him from where he laid back into the pillows.

Roy abandoned the drawing, crawling up to suck and lick the nipple he had been staring at for the past five minutes. He traced a hard peck with his tongue down to abs and the soft curly blond hair that surrounded Ed's erection before taking it into his mouth, relishing Ed's gasping moan. Roy liked to draw, but he loved Ed more.