Through Metamorphosis
RWThunder
Part VII
Ed floated from sleep to waking when a light breeze alerted his senses. Cold air washed over the bare skin of his chest before departing, leaving a shiver and a trail of goose bumps in its wake. The tail-end of the wind stirred his bangs, causing them to dance lightly over his cheek, tickling him, and he opened his eyes.
The Fullmetal Alchemist was mildly surprised to find himself huddled shirtless on the grass, staring at the elegant curve of Roy's neck. The sight of his companion brought forth bursts of memory, still fresh, into his mind. Now at a distance from the event, the thought of the things he had done and that had been done to him made Ed's mouth go dry.
Watching the brunette's chest rise and fall, Fullmetal attempted to piece together every moment of what had passed between them hours before. There were gaps, places where he knew only what one sense screamed to him, times where everything was fast and blurred, or when time seemed to slow and even stop. Blearily he wondered if it had been a dream; the place where he had been and the place where he now lay seemed so very different.
Then, when he moved to sit up, Ed knew for sure that everything he remembered had happened. Perhaps more than he remembered at that moment. Parts of his body that the blond had never had be sore now ached with every breath. He had to grit his teeth when getting up, a sharp pain in his lower back biting at every nerve in range.
Despite this, Edward felt more refreshed and relaxed than he had been in weeks, months, even. Coming to back to Resembool had calmed him, or so he had thought. Ed had found himself to be a bit preoccupied with earning the affections of a certain black-eyed Flame Alchemist.
But now their game was over. To Ed, it felt as though they had come as far as was possible. He had wanted Roy to like him, then to be with him, then to take him. All this had happened, in the blink of an eye it seemed, and looking down at Roy's peaceful face he wondered what else there was.
What more could he give? He had relinquished everything to the brunette, every scrap of his pride and vulnerability. He had let himself be changed, touched, hurt, and comforted. Roy had certainly treated him with kindness and patience, but what need was there for that now?
Edward was coming to realize that he had no idea what to do next. The kind of intimacy he'd only dreamed of had come to pass with the one person he had ever wanted it with. What was the next step? Was this the end of their experience? The blond was unsure, and frightened by the thought that he no longer had anything to give to Roy.
He didn't want it to be over. But how to make his partner stay? Again he returned to the question: What more could he give?
Bitterness burned his heart at the thought that all the pain and anxiousness he'd gone through to have a moment of bliss with the brunette was not enough. He'd done it for Roy, no, for what he imagined they could be together. At the time, it had been completely worth it; it had been worth the sound of his name on Roy's lips, of the feel of his skin and his gentle touch.
But what to do now?
Ed fell back onto the earth in surrender, rolling dejectedly away from his companion, mindful of the ache in his body. The physical pain, minimal as it was, rode on the anguished thoughts crowding his head. The blond squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to cry for another time that day.
--
Roy Mustang awoke slowly, gradually, his body opening itself to the world with a lazy uncloaking of his awareness. He had been right to choose this place, the place where they lay; The clover was soft here.
The bright sun and beautiful weather seemed to share his contentment. All in all, this was a wonderful day. The brunette turned his head and saw Edward lying a little ways away, curled-up. He approached carefully.
His hair smelled just like Roy remembered.
"Ed, are you awake?"
"Hm." The blond hardly sounded drowsy. Flame ran his fingers through those gold locks.
"Did you get some sleep, I hope?" Examining the cause, there seemed to be no reason why he shouldn't still be unconscious.
"I slept a little." He didn't sound good, and his report didn't sound much better. Roy frowned.
"Are you alright?" His body would be fatigued, in shock, he should have wanted to rest—unless his mind was unable.
"Yeah."
"Liar, come here." He couldn't forget, this was Ed; A boy who had depended on a cold, suit of armor for affection and distracted, selfish adults for support. He was a lone entity, an independent spirit, one that was already too jaded to readily accept all Roy had to offer. The brunette slid his hands beneath that warm body and lifted the smaller man towards him. The blond winced and shifted uneasily in Roy's hold.
"I'm sorry, you should have woken me up. Let's go inside." He stood, reveling for a moment in the realization that without his automail, Ed was easy to carry. There was some protesting, however.
"I don't need to be carried, you know." His charge grumbled.
"Maybe not, but I believe in consideration for those you care about. Besides, you must be sore." A wink accompanied this retort.
"Shut up!" Although Ed was quick to react instinctually, his inward reception greeted the words with a thankful analysis: A sentence that was pure Roy Mustang, complement, implication, and a little playfulness to take the edge off. Ed knew that Roy didn't like to be too serious when he could help it; The military had forced certain masks upon him, certain modes and forms to follow in order to secure success. When he could make a joke, could find time away from his superiors and duties to smirk a little, Flame was quick to indulge. Perhaps that was why he had loved teasing the blond so much.
This thought made Ed unclench a little and even go so far as to loop his arms around the brunette's neck. He sighed, forgetting his worries for a moment to enjoy a simple pleasure that he had never sampled before. A stab of guilt struck his heart when he found himself feeling especially grateful that it was Roy's warm flesh and muscle that propelled him over the fields, not the scraping steel—so similar to his automail—of his younger brother's former body.
"Relax." Ed started, not having noticed the tension that had snuck back into his body. Roy's voice, more than the meaning of his words, made the command easy to follow.
"Just how many times am I going to hear that today?" A typical reply. Roy knew his uncaring, sarcastic remarks to be a defense mechanism, a default to slip into when more thoughtful responses could not be conjured; He couldn't blame him for being disoriented, upset, anything and everything else.
They reached the house at last.
--
"Bath, tea, rest." Roy recited, depositing his charge on the smooth tiles of the bathroom. Ed fiddled with the hair tie around his wrist. "Don't even think about it." The blond looked up.
"Huh?"
"Your hair, leave it down. You won't need to tie it back in the water anyway." Flame crouched down beside the basin and gave one of the knobs an experimental twist.
"Why do I have to take a bath?" The smaller man grumbled, almost bashful on account of the reason he knew all too well.
"I'm just trying to keep our theme consistent for today; This will help you to relax." Roy glowed for a moment in triumph at the small smile he received for his light-hearted disposition.
"And you need to dump in hot water for that?"
"I understand that it's good practice." He smiled, returning to the knobs of the bath and testing the water with a critical hand. A pause. "I know you're in pain. I want to help, that's all. Don't worry, I'll try not to bother you by fussing too much." Another smile, this one a little more strained than its predecessor. Ed frowned.
"You don't have to worry about me at all." He said flatly.
"Of course I don't." The knobs were abandoned. "There is nothing necessary about what I'm doing. However, this is what I want to do, Edward, I want to do this for you." The room was filled by the sound of the water, by the light mist gathering in the corners of the ceiling.
The blond stood abruptly.
"What are you doing?" Roy followed suit.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Those sinful pants slid down Fullmetal's hips. "I'm taking a bath." And somehow it was alright that the arc of their conversation had been completely ignored, if indeed it had. Cooperation, it wasn't something Edward gave without meaning. Roy stood back and sternly forced his eyes to look away, a small way recognizing Ed's acknowledgement of his words.
Presently, the golden-eyed youth had settled himself in the wet, foggy basin. It was heaven. He leaned back against the tiles, letting his muscles go slack and the aches slowly fade. It was healing, it was bliss.
Roy walked past the tub on his way to the door, realizing the possibility that his lover would want time alone.
"Hey," a wet, firm hand seized the belt loop of his pants. "going somewhere?" Roy tried valiantly to ignore the tingling Ed's warm, damp fingers sent through his body.
"I thought you might want—"
"You thought wrong. Get in." And all the brunette could do was grin and comply.
In contrast to the mountain of unspoken words hovering between the two men, the warm water and steamy air spoke for itself. Fluidity, a perfect flush that made the skin shine, droplets that carved sensual paths all over the body, these things made them remember the project in sight. Water, it seemed, could very nearly wash worries away.
Ed forgot himself in the feel of Roy's hands sliding over his chest, tracing his lips, pushing matted, damp hair behind his ears and lacing his fingers through it.
"Roy, I really have no idea what I am doing." He remarked helplessly, leaning into his companion's touch. Fears from before resurfaced, now cast in a different light.
"Yes you do." Smooth, soft tones that told the blond so much more than that.
The brunette kissed his forehead.
"I don't have an ounce of experience." Ed protested. Flame chuckled.
"I'm hurt, Edward."
"What? I mean with relationships, with people, I don't know! I don't know where we go from here, Roy." He leaned his head dolefully on the brunette's welcoming shoulder, closing his eyes and letting the hands working their way down his back do their job.
"Where we go is up to us. It's not so complicated, you only have to deal with yourself and me." He turned and bit down on the blond's ear gently. "Whatever you want, Ed, whatever you need." The timbre of his voice dropped, low, soothing, something too intimate for ears alone.
"Anything, Edward…" Fullmetal selected his new, flesh hand to partake in the journey from Roy's shoulder to his neck and cheek. He sat back.
"I'm feeling better, Roy." The blond stated, moving his fingers carefully over his companion's face with more confidence than he'd thought he had. Another laugh.
"You blatant little tease." Ed chose to ignore the third word and leaned forward instead.
"Yeah? So what?" He'd forgotten how the surface bellow him would disappear when Roy kissed him, how the need for air was suddenly replaced with the desire for something else, bodily functions aside. Where the lips of the Flame Alchemist were to be found, there was no need for anything else.
Ed met his partner with a cornucopia of skill and enthusiasm waiting to be fueled, honed, practiced until every brush and slide of their lips was equal in passion and practice. The Fullmetal Alchemist had never imagined that he'd ever pride himself on kissing.
Distantly, Ed was aware of the brunette shifting away from him. The new hand fisted itself in dark locks.
"It's okay."
"No, it's too soon, I won't hurt you." Breathless, words that had no meaning next to the feelings behind them, emotions that shown through the fiercer now that two had already become one.
"Didn't I tell you before? That sort of thing doesn't work on me." Then Ed understood what he needed to say. "Roy, you won't hurt me." Maybe the brunette was right, maybe he did know what he was doing, because the Flame Alchemist believed him.
The hot breath they exhaled was lost in the haze of muggy atmosphere around them, of condensation on the tiles of the wall. Surrounded by so much warmth, of the soothing caress of water and the burn of skin so close Ed was lost once more.
Only the observation that the pain was less than before, than Roy was holding him, only these things kept him anchored in the world of literal basics: solid, liquid, gas. His mind ran wild amid the strain and pleasure of their union, somehow oblivious yet acutely aware simultaneously.
No words, but a look passed between them near their descent and Ed was surprised at the coiled force with which Roy pulled him close when it was over. Smiling, he returned the embrace and, taking note of the shaking tension in those damp shoulders, he smiled before bringing his lips to his lover's ear.
"Relax, Roy."
--
Sorry for the short chapter, the next one might be the last—and also much longer. Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Thank you to my readers, I love you all. Thank you also to my reviewers, because that lets me know that my story matters to people and inspires me to keep going. Thank you!