Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, and this is for pleasure, not profit.

AN: Rated M for mature sexual situations. First in my Communication series. Based on the manga.

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Unexpected Methods of Communication by luvsanime02

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Edward Elric was surprisingly quiet during sex.

Roy wasn't expecting that. If anything, he was planning to move to somewhere else in the city where the buildings were further apart, certain that he'd have to change addresses shortly after starting a physical relationship with Edward in order to keep from being caught in a compromising situation when the military police broke down his front door. Not only were they trying to be discrete, what with fraternization rules being broken quite often around here, but Roy wasn't sure that he could actually stop in the middle of having sex with Edward, regardless of an unwanted audience and impending prison time.

Roy was overwhelmingly relieved that he didn't have to test that theory.

So yes, it certainly came as something of a shock to him that Edward was silent during sex. Not submissive. That idea was frankly more alarming than arousing. But still, there were no moans, no sharp curses, no howling into the sheets. Sometimes, when Roy forgot to be thankful, he was just a little bit disappointed. And embarrassed.

Roy himself wasn't exactly silent. He didn't shout or make any high-pitched caterwauling noises, which he was eternally grateful for, having heard them only once before and subsequently been put off by a desire to laugh at his partner more than anything else. Quiet moans and sharp, involuntary groans were much more preferable when looked at in that light.

In the silence of his bedroom though, or whatever room of his townhouse they happened to be in when they were having sex, Roy's soft noises, that he'd never before thought of as anything other than normal, were loud. His only saving grace, he supposed, was that Edward honestly never seemed to think anything of them. Or if Edward did, he was being uncharacteristically and mercifully silent on the subject matter.

Edward wasn't violent either, which Roy hadn't even considered until they were having sex up against the wall of his study, his erection rubbing against Edward's prostate teasingly before he pushed in deeper, and Edward's automail foot had kicked back and hit his shin in a reflexive spasm. Roy hadn't stopped, of course, but it had urged him to pull Edward's hips out just a little bit more and really put his back into his thrusts. There was nothing like the threat of a cracked bone to hurry a man along.

Roy's sudden movements had also caused Edward's head to bang against the wall unexpectedly, which in turn had caused him to curse out loud, for once breaking the quiet, so Roy supposed he should be grateful for that twitch. Still, Roy would never describe Edward as violent during sex.

To convey what he wanted, Edward used looks which oftentimes were beyond Roy's ability to read, but that he followed up with hands and thighs, feet and lips, and the occasional wriggle. Roy loved those the best, even if they did sometimes result in more noises than he was entirely comfortable making because they usually involved controlled muscle contractions around his erection, pulling him deeper in teeth-gritting increments.

No, Roy really didn't think that he could stop in the middle of having sex with Edward Elric by any strength of will. Not even that first time, when the lack of noise had Roy concerned for a few moments that he was the only one enjoying himself during the encounter. Edward's own obvious erection had eased those fleeting thoughts, but the silence had seemed deafening then. Roy had looked down into black eyes lined by a rim of golden amber and set to it anyway, ignoring the quiet, and watching instead the vague discomfort ease from the lines of Edward's mouth and eyes as Roy kept up a smooth rhythm, pulling out until only the head and crown of his erection were still inside before slowly pushing back in.

The next time had gone steadier. And the time after that, when Roy had come to expect the silence by then and was more intent on increasing the number of positions they tried, and with Edward relaxing into the not-newness of the experience, experimenting along with him.

What Edward was, when they were having sex, was completely in control. Not in any of the obvious ways that Roy had come to expect from a lover. Edward had yet to demand that they switch roles, for instance, and Roy didn't know if he ever would, not that Roy was exactly adverse to the idea. Nor did Edward want to tie Roy up, or even hold him down with his body, which Roy knew outweighed his own by way of the automail. Edward never verbally demanded that Roy speed up or go slower, never pushed or pulled or yanked his hair ever, which Roy was very grateful for.

Edward just moved. His body was flexible, as expected, and Edward used every ounce of knowledge about its muscles and tendons and ligaments and bones to show Roy exactly what he wanted. A flesh and blood right hand curling around the back of Roy's neck meant that Edward wanted folded up almost in half for a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss, while a similar left hand stroking the same spot meant that instead Edward was going to stretch out, his back firmly against the sheets, legs moving from their position around Roy's waist or shoulders to splay wide, feet pressed flat to the bed.

Whatever the command was, Roy obeyed, in a way that he'd never done before with anyone else. Roy usually didn't even realize he was obeying an order until the act was far over with. It made sex with Edward unique, sometimes startling, sometimes perplexing, but almost always spectacular enough that Roy's vision whitened out when he came.

Edward was quiet in bed but he was far from inexpressive, and as Roy settled into him, as they learned to settle into each other, even the silence became full of communication.

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Ed was expecting Mustang to be quieter during sex.

Not that Ed had given much thought before to having sex with the other man. At least, not until Ed learned a little bit more about Roy Mustang as a person. Attraction, Ed knew, was a chemical reaction in the brain. So while he'd always known that Mustang was attractive in an objective kind of way, it wasn't until he'd heard the man's goals and learned of his past that Ed began to notice how dark Mustang's eyes were. It took the realization that Mustang, of all people, was an idealist before Ed was jerking off in the shower to the thought of Mustang's hands, still gloved, wrapping around his erection and making him come.

Ed started noticing a plethora of facts about Mustang after that. Well, more like noticing that he had already subconsciously noted down those facts in the first place. For instance, that Mustang wouldn't yawn unless it was quickly into his hand, as discreetly as possible, not so much because of etiquette but because the man didn't want anyone else to see that he was capable of being tired. Or the way Mustang drank his coffee with milk in it, which was disgusting, but not enough to stop Ed from wanting to suck on Mustang's tongue and lick every one of his teeth.

That Mustang had not only seen Hell but been part of creating one, and that it was still there in his eyes every time he snapped his fingers, gloved or not now. That Mustang hated bowing to his supposed superiors and never ever lowered his eyes anymore while doing so, and certainly never lowered his head enough to expose the back of his neck to them.

Mustang had a temper, too. This was perhaps the only observation that genuinely surprised Ed. He'd seen Mustang act calm under the most annoying of circumstances. Even if the man yelled, his control was iron-tight. Ed had assumed that Mustang was naturally this way.

After learning about the Ishval Civil War, about how devastating a human weapon Mustang could be, Ed realized what his slight body quirks, like folding his hands under his chin or holding a pen idly in his fingers, actually meant. All were ways of keeping Mustang's hands occupied so that he wasn't tempted to literally direct a line of fire at someone in frustration or anger. That Mustang's self-control covered a dangerous temper made the hair on the back of Ed's neck stand up, but it didn't stop him from looking.

When he noticed Mustang looking back, Ed wasn't surprised. Mustang had been watching him since they first met, though the reason behind his stares had certainly shifted over time. Ed became very conscious of just how dry his mouth could turn from a single glance.

So, they had sex. Ed expected it to be awkward, and it was. He didn't know what to do with his hands at all, or where to put his head on the pillow exactly; it didn't feel quite right no matter where he subtly shifted it to. The actual penetration didn't exactly hurt, but burned at first as his muscles stretched, which Ed considered slightly uncomfortable but tolerable. It was the pressure that he actually had to adjust to.

Still, once Mustang was actually inside of him, and Ed caught onto the right breathing pattern required, he was able to notice other stuff, like the relaxing of his muscles as Mustang pulled out, and feeling those same muscles give way again when the man pushed back in. Ed got caught up in the unceasing movement, and the way Mustang stroked Ed's erection in a counterpoint rhythm until he came, toes curled in the sheets.

What Ed noticed more than anything, though, was the little noises that Mustang made. They caught Ed completely off-guard, and he found them incredibly interesting. They were grunts mostly, soft moans and groans when he came. If Ed had thought about it before, he really wouldn't have expected Mustang to lose control of himself enough to make any noise at all.

Later, after Ed started experimenting and learned how fun sex could be with someone willing to indulge him a little, he came to the conclusion that these noises were involuntary. Well, he figured that was perfectly fine. Ed didn't really care what noises the other man made during sex as long as Mustang was still willing to lick Ed's asshole, to run his tongue around the outer edge before flicking just the tip inside. Ed discovered that nothing was guaranteed to make him gain an erection faster than that.

And it was those noises, in the end, that led to Ed discovering all the different ways to turn Mustang on. It didn't matter that Ed rarely needed to do anything more than be in the same room, and sometimes not even that. Not that Ed thought this was a bad thing, or that he wasn't the same, but Ed loved figuring out new ways to accomplish his goal of having hot sex with Mustang. He'd heard before that people with new lovers were like that, wanting to discover everything they could about each other's bodies, but Ed had never thought it'd be true.

This was how he found out that Mustang loved having his feet touched. Ed thought this was weird, in a way that few things were weirder. Making noises while having sex was nothing compared to actually liking it when someone played with your feet, in his opinion, but Ed only had to run his finger over the bottom of Mustang's foot once while licking up pre-cum from the tip of Mustang's erection before the man groaned loudly and came. Something to consider for another time.

Mustang wasn't ticklish, however, and Ed was very disappointed to find this out, as it would have made excellent blackmail material. Ed knowing that Mustang orgasmed quickly if you played with his feet would be kind of hard to explain in the office, but that he was ticklish? Ed could have done some major damage to Mustang's reputation with that. Not that Ed would have, if he was being completely honest with himself, but just the threat might have had Mustang leery around him for a while.

Of course, there would also have been the threat of counter-blackmail to consider. Ed didn't know what observations Mustang had noticed about him by now, but he had no doubt that the man's mind had them listed in numerical order based on the level of embarrassment each one was capable of inducing. Ed knew that Mustang was about as likely to divulge some newly-discovered personal information as Ed was himself, but he also had no doubt that Mustang would fight fire with fire, figuratively as well as literal.

So Mustang might not be quiet while they were having sex, but after all, Ed was a genius. He learned rather swiftly to adapt to the situation, to Mustang himself, and to the delightful realization that not even a transmutation circle had ever communicated with Ed quite so powerfully.