Fluffy RoyEd story. Takes place a couple of years after the manga/Brotherhood, but not many spoilers.

Warnings: Yaoi, a few spoilers, possibly bad English and maybe cavities

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist

Take me home

General Mustang sighed in exasperation at the desperate look Alphonse Elric sent him. He knew what the boy wanted him to do. After all, the kid seemed to be completely stuck where he was being cuddled up by the overly drunk Havoc – and Roy seriously wondered whether Havoc was aware of who he was cuddling – and he was not able to take measures himself.

'Measures' being making sure the birthday boy would not continue his impromptu striptease where he had hoisted himself up onto the bar.

If it wasn't for Havoc and Breda ganging up on the blonde to make him absolutely and irreversibly drunk, this whole problem wouldn't have existed. But of course, the two had easily talked the eager one-day-legal alchemist into drinking alcohol, because – of course – he couldn't wait to prove himself. He had gulped down beer as if his life had depended on it, at the same time sucking in all the encouraging calls of the two men like a sponge.

By now Havoc was – as previously mentioned – too drunk for any coherency himself and glued to Alphonse's slim back for whatever he thought he'd be doing there and Breda was nowhere in sight, although the last time Roy had spotted him he was swaying dangerously as he walked.

Edward Elric, the reason of this drunken birthday party, was happily dragging his hands up and down his chest while sitting on the bar, clumsily trying to get his fingers in between the buttons of his shirt every few strokes. He had managed a couple of buttons open in various places of the shirt, and the jacket he'd been wearing had already disappeared to the floor to be trampled upon and get soaked with sloshing beer. And it seemed like his little brother had decided the General was the right person to stop him now.

He sent one last longing glance around the pub in the hopes to spot Hawkeye – who would be a far better candidate to handle a stripping Fullmetal Alchemist with ball-freezing care for sure – but he wasn't that lucky. It seemed like he was the only one besides Alphonse sober enough to avoid disaster playing out before their eyes on a bar, of all places.

He rose to his feet, only feeling the slightest bit light-headed from the couple of drinks he'd had. Looking at the boy stripping made him almost nervous, and with that more light-headed. He actually wanted to see Ed getting that shirt off. He liked seeing that chiselled chest.

He slowly made his way towards the grinning blonde, trying not to get bulldozed down by the other drunk occupants of the bar. He narrowly avoided stumbling over a pair of feet – so that's why he wasn't able to see Breda anymore – and clamped his hand down on the edge of the bar to enforce his stance while he gave Edward the coolest reassuring smile he could manage in a place like this.

"Time for you to go home, Fullmetal," he told the boy gently, raising his voice just enough to make himself audible over the noise.

Ed's eyes flickered to him, his face falling in confusion for a small moment before lighting up in a bright childish smile. "Colonel!"

"That'd be General, like it's been for the past year," he muttered, stretching his arms to the young man invitingly to lift him off the counter. Ed complied all too happily, practically jumping in Roy's arms at the invitation. Flesh and metal fingers dug their way into the back of Roy's shirt and he stumbled when he felt two legs wrapping around his hips. He immediately froze, forcing his body not to react so easily.

This was not according to plan.

He graced Alphonse with a desperate look over his shoulder, to get a horror-struck one in return.

Apparently not Alphonse's plan either.

"I'm sure you're old enough to stand on your own, Fullmetal," he managed with a slightly degrading tone, the best he could currently think of to get the blonde off him again and save his face. And his back.

"But this position iz good," Ed slurred, licking Roy's neck and sending shivers down his spine.

"I must disagree."

"Too old to carry me weight?" The boy laughed loudly at his own joke, practically damaging Roy's hearing on the right side. He cringed, and attempted to pry Ed off.

"Nooooo, I dun wanna!" Ed clung only harder. "Take me home. You's said you's take me home, bastard!"

"I'm not carrying your drunk ass all the way to the dormitories. You can walk."

"'m not goin' to the dor-dormita... dorm."

"Yes you are. Now let go of me and stand up for yourself."

"Then don't hug me to begin with, you bastard."

Now that sounded awfully coherent.

"Fullmetal. I'm warning you."

"If I walks... you take me home?"

"I'll walk you to the dormitories, yes. You need to get to bed and sleep this off."

"Nooo," the boy whined again. "Take me home, take me home!"

"What could you possibly want at my home?" Roy sighed exasperated and finally decided to lean Ed's weight on one of the bar stools, his back complaining strongly against the heavy pull. He was actually happy for the boy's drunk behaviour, as it put him off just enough. He couldn't afford jumping the boy.

There was no verbal response, but after a second or so the boy began giggling like mad. For some reason Roy had the ominous feeling Edward had been making suggestive faces into his shoulder.

"You are aware I usually take women home?"

"I can be a women if you's want me to," Ed leant back on the stool to give Roy a lopsided smirk, toppling over the moment his balance point changed. Roy grabbed the boy's upper arms to keep him from falling off the stool, and then swiftly pulled the boy to his feet as the legs unwrapped from his waist.

He had to hold the young alchemist firmly by his arms for a few minutes longer, as he swayed and confused golden eyes danced through the room as if searching for where the floor had gone.

"Come on... How much did you drink?" Roy grouched. Although he did put Fullmetal's remark away for future use in the office. The young man was never going to live this down, not if it was up to Roy.

The image of Edward in a dress to please him was buried even deeper in the back of his mind.

"Coloneeeeel," Ed drawled, trying to wrap his arms around Roy's waist. Roy kept his grip firm, forcing the boy's arms back and twisting him around. Standing behind the blonde's back with a death grip on a metal and a flesh arm, he managed to coax the boy into a staggering walk towards the door. Gently steering the boy around Breda on the floor – it took a little longer there as Ed burst into a fit of giggles when he spotted the redhead down there – he slowly made his way through the crowd.

A last look back granted him a grateful look of the boy's little brother, who mouthed him a 'thank you' from his prison of Havoc's arms.

This was going to be a long walk.

...

Edward was used to waking up in strange and unfamiliar beds, but he was not so used to waking up pressed against another warm body. Of course there were times he shared a bed with his little brother out of necessity, but even he wouldn't usually cuddle up to Ed like this.

Or rather, the other way around, as Alphonse was taller than him, and all he could see from his barely open eyes was a smooth expanse of probably chest.

He felt strangely heavy-headed.

So the question now was, which bed was this and how did he get here? And why did Alphonse smell so unusual? In fact, since when did Al have these scars?

Damn it, I'm screwed.

It was good to know getting drunk was not as much of a good plan as Havoc and Breda had made it sound yesterday. It was a pity he had to find out like this. Especially if this was indeed the chest he thought it was, which meant he had now probably effectively killed off all the chances he had with the General by making their life pretty awkward from now on.

He tried to scoot back, but found the arms wrapped around his shoulders secured pretty firmly. Also, he wasn't quite able to extract his right arm from the hollow between the bed and the pale flesh side of the man he was pressed against.

He awkwardly pulled back his other arm, so he was at least no longer clinging to the man's waist.

He tried to squint up, but his angle did not offer more than a view of the underside of a chin. He had to wriggle around to finally catch that sliver of pitch black hair, confirming his suspicions well enough. There weren't many people he'd go home with, and there was only one black haired man he'd cling to like this. At least he assumed he wouldn't go home with random people even while completely inebriated.

He wondered whether they had done anything the night before.

He wasn't feeling especially sore. In fact, apart from the heavy feeling in his head he didn't even have much of a headache. His stomach was fine too. Was the whole hangover story a lie or something?

He shifted his hips against the General, to find out both him and the pale man pressed against him were still wearing their underwear.

So nothing happened then?

In a way, it was a good thing. He would regret it forever if they'd done anything and he'd have forgotten about it. After all, he had been waiting for that to happen for years now, and it would be such a waste to forget all about it. He had worked hard to keep the General from noticing his infatuation with his superior, certain the man would definitely turn him down while he was still underage, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle a straight rejection. The chances the General accepted him now were of course still slim – he was still the man's subordinate, and male to boot – but at least he had managed to outwait one important objection the other could have. He wasn't likely to rise in rank to become Mustang's equal – the mere thought was preposterous – and his gender wasn't about to change either, so this was as good as it would get to try and convince the man to be with him.

That is, if he wasn't completely ruining their relationship by being almost-naked in the General's bed after a night of far too much alcohol.

He tried to wriggle out of the General's grip one more time, before giving up. His only result was the man grunting softly and tightening his arms around Ed's shoulders. He supposed he could just lay here and enjoy the cuddling for as long as it would last. The chances of this scene repeating were dreadfully small.

He nuzzled his face to the pale chest. Mustang's skin felt surprisingly soft, his muscles mostly relaxed in sleep. How he managed to hold Ed this tight while everything else was so relaxed was a mystery to Ed.

Would Mustang's skin taste of sweat now?

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. He shouldn't think of that, shouldn't try it. But the slight twitch of the man's muscles as blond bangs tickled the skin was so very inviting. Besides, the General was asleep. He might not ever get this chance again.

What would it hurt to have a little taste? It was perfectly innocent to just taste the man's skin, right?

He peeked up – which was pretty useless as the underside of Mustang's chin would tell him less of the man's state of wakefulness than his breathing would – before carefully darting his tongue out to flick it over smooth skin.

Mustang indeed tasted quite sweaty. He probably had not taken a shower last night, after standing in a crowded bar with drunks all over him. But somehow the salty taste was not as bad as it could have been. Ed decided that was probably because it was Mustang's sweat, and he'd probably be grossed out by any other man's sweat – or Mustang's too hadn't he been attracted to the man in the first place.

His tongue darted out again for a second taste. Could attraction really affect the way you perceived taste? Would something disgusting taste good because it belonged to the man you loved? Did it work the other way around as well then?

His lips pressed tenderly against Mustang's chest, leaving an open mouthed kiss on the slightly slick spot he'd licked before. Looking back the theory seemed pretty sound. His mother's stew had always been the best. Nobody was able to make it quite as good as she could, even Al who used the exact same recipe. The taste must have been partly decided by his love for his mother. The same worked for the apple pies of Gracia and Winry – although made exactly the same, the taste was quite different. And hearing especially bad news could always make the best of food turn to ash in his mouth.

Extrapolating this theory, there should be a lot more things very tasty on the body he was kissing.

His curious lips had located a patch of skin different from what he'd been kissing before. Lapping at it with his tongue made it stiffen and wrinkle, the patch becoming slightly pointed. He smirked slightly to himself, not needing to open his eyes to ascertain he had strayed across a nipple.

Slowly kissing up he tracked down the other nipple to give it the same treatment as its twin.

The soft moan suddenly reverberating underneath his lips was a sobering experience, and he abruptly leant back. He was not supposed to be kissing and licking his General's chest without the man even consenting to that sort of treatment! He was taking advantage of the care Mustang was giving him after he'd drunk too much!

He quickly peeked up again, only to see – to his mortification – charcoal eyes burning holes through his head.

"At it again, Fullmetal?"

His mouth was dry as a desert, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times in horror before his mind caught up with the actual question. "Again?"

"You've been doing that until you fell asleep," the General pointed out with a voice slightly rough from sleep, "which is why I am holding you like this. It was the only way to keep you down."

Ed flushed dark red. A clearer rejection he couldn't get. Roy was only holding him to keep him from drunkenly molesting him, no intimate thoughts behind it at all.

"Lemme go," he croaked.

"I had assumed you'd be sober by morning, and still I found you all over me again when I woke up," Mustang quietly observed, ignoring Ed's demand.

"I'm sorry, okay? Lemme go!" Ed started struggling against Mustang, but the angle of his automail arm made it impossible to pull it free from the man's weight, and the other's arms were effectively pinning his shoulders in place.

"Why?"

"Why?" Ed cursed beneath his breath as his voice squeaked in his indignity. "You're holding me too tight! I'm sober alright, I won't assault you anymore! Let go of me, now!"

"Then why were you kissing my chest?" Mustang shifted his arms and Ed suddenly found himself staring into those deep dark eyes, a shudder shooting down his spine. "And so tenderly too?"

"I... I just..."

"Red really is your colour, isn't it Fullmetal?" The cocky grin was just too much and Ed starting thrashing, cursing the bastard loudly as he tried to get free. The General scowled and rolled over, pinning Edward to the bed.

"Get off me, you bastard!" Ed screeched. He lifted his arms to shove at the man on top of him, but to his surprise he found his wrists to be caught and pressed to the bed on either side of his head.

How did he get this slow?

Well, whaddayaknow, the hangover story might ring true after all, if a bit different than expected.

"Calm down Fullmetal, I'm only teasing you. I'd say you are acting rather ungrateful to someone who brought you home after your insistent whining and spent a fair amount of time wrestling you to protect your own innocence."

"Fuck off," he hissed.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Why are you so freaking level-headed? You just woke up to me trying to assault you, and all you do is joke around? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Actually I was hoping to coax you into doing it some more, now I'm sure it's not just the alcohol speaking."

Ed froze in place, looking wide-eyed at the man pinning him down. Did Mustang just say what he thought he said? Did he just imply he liked Ed kissing him like that?

"I know you're probably just looking for a cheap fuck, but I'd hate to see you leave to find some other sick bastard to do that with. Despite what appearances imply, I actually do care about you Fullmetal."

"How much?" he blurted out before his mind was able to catch up.

The soft smile surprised him, and Ed had to swallow with difficulty. "Wouldn't it make you feel troubled to know that of the superior who's almost twice your age?"

"That depends on the answer."

The smile turned sad, and all Ed wanted was to reach up and kiss that sadness off those lips. He didn't like that look on Mustang's face. The General was supposed to smirk, or look otherwise arrogant or maybe nice. Not sad.

To his surprise he didn't need to fight his way up to Mustang's face. Instead, the man softly pressed his lips against his. Ed shuddered and responded to the kiss, shakily massaging the man's lips with his own. Mustang sucked his bottom lip slightly between his own, softly nibbling it before letting go and leaning back again.

Ed knew he was flushed and panting, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the beautiful man on top of him.

"Do you want it?" Mustang asked quietly.

Ed shook his head, making the General's eyes widen in surprise.

"You look hurt," he clarified, feeling uncharacteristically shy about his words, "I don't want it if you don't."

"Isn't this what you came for?"

He shook his head again. "I don't really remember coming here, but I'm sure I didn't just come here for what you call 'a cheap fuck'. I came for more than that, and I don't want anything if I can't get that. I was out of line earlier and I apologise for that, but..." Mustang cut him off with a rough bark of laughter, and his wrists were released as the man sat up.

"More? Don't say things that will make me hope you actually love me, Fullmetal. I'm too old for you, I'm your superior. Don't let me think I could make a chance with you." Ed found himself victim of a glare both cold and sad. "Take that 'cheap fuck' I'm offering or quit playing with my feelings and get out."

He felt the odd inclination to giggle, and he sat up, eyeing the General with sour mirth. "You? A chance with me? Don't be ridiculous." The glare in the black eyes hardened. "I thought I was in the house of General Roy Mustang, the famous womanizer. He doesn't do sappy crap like that. He doesn't love a male subordinate of his. What gives you the right to tell me this shit? What gives you the freaking right to reject me and laying the blame for that on my side?!" He delivered a sharp kick to the General's chest, forcing him to fall backwards as Ed rose to his knees to tower over him. "Who the hell are you?! Who the hell do you think you are, giving me this crap?! If you want to reject my feelings, at least be fair and take the responsibility yourself! I knew you'd always be out of my league, but at least give me a freaking answer I've been expecting, you fucking bastard!"

He sat there, leaning dangerously over the wide-eyed General, panting hard. Damn, he hadn't been this angry in a long time. Sure he'd been angry, but it had been a long time since he was angry and hurt at the same time. Damn bastard.

He found the breath choked out of his lungs as he was abruptly pulled down, a mouth smashing against his own in a heated kiss. His brain short-circuited while trying to figure out how they got from hurting each other to eating each other's lips from their faces, and he ended up throwing himself in the fray in defeat.

His bottom lip was sucked in again, and he gasped. As it was released his lips closed around Mustang's mouth sloppily, giving the man all the space he needed to slip his tongue into Ed's mouth.

Frankly, Mustang tasted of sleep and alcohol of the night before, but Ed was quite sure he couldn't taste much better. He'd take the taste gladly in return for the heated kiss. He tried pressing back, battling the older man's tongue, but quickly found his mouth completely dominated by the other. It shouldn't surprise him Mustang was able to overpower him so easily – having years more of experience – but that didn't stop him from fighting back. He doubted Mustang was expecting him to give in easily anyway.

He found himself to be flipped over smoothly, his back once again pressing against the soft bed and Mustang's hands on either side of his shoulders. The General ravished his mouth like there was a treasure to be found, and Ed could only happily open up and let him have his thorough search. He should have felt embarrassed about moaning in delight while the General mapped out his teeth, tongue and palate.

A thought suddenly struck his mind and he pushed Mustang up. Black eyes blinked in confusion at the sudden space between them. "Wait, wait a minute. What is this supposed to mean?"

Mustang blinked a few more times before answering. "Well, clearly, if I can't put the blame on your side, and I know it can't be on mine either, that means this is the only way to solve the problem, right?"

"What problem are we solving?" Ed asked confused.

"You said you had feelings."

"Bastard," he ground out.

"You don't?" Mustang sat back, looking actually confused now.

"I freaking do, you bastard! But I said I didn't want this if I couldn't have more, so before you start slobbering all over me at least tell me what you think!"

"I thought that was pretty obvious?"

His hands shot up, tanned flesh and gleaming metal circling around the General's throat. "Say it out loud, bastard."

His voice was chilly as ice and he saw Mustang's eyes narrow momentarily. Then black eyes softened, and Mustang reached up to gently tug at his hands around his throat. "I love you Ed."

Eyes widened almost comically as Edward clamped his fingers down, choking off the bastard's breath as much as he deserved. "You fucking bastard! You fucking good-for-nothing General bastard! Don't fuck with me!"

Ed ignored the gurgling sounds the General was making in favour of holding on to his anger. The man was famous for playing around. Everybody knew he took women home all the time, and they all loved him. Adored him. The bastard was practically born sweet-talking whoever he was hoping to get between the sheets.

Only Ed had already been between the sheets, and the General had in fact not touched him indecently at all until he had started it himself this morning. Also, the man had looked genuinely hurt at the thought Ed wouldn't want him.

Just like he was genuinely turning purple right now.

He let go as if burned, and Mustang fell back over him, heaving on a coughing fit. Ed wriggled to the side slightly to avoid his hearing being damaged from the violent coughing right above his shoulder.

"Damn it, you're so violent," Mustang choked out eventually, "not to mention prone to mood swings."

"Who're you calling a fucking woman," he growled, though not pushing the General off him now.

"Says the one who offered to be just that to get me to take him home yesterday," he simpered.

Ed blushed furiously and turned his head to the side. "Shut up."

"So are you done trying to kill me?" Edward shivered when lips gently nipped at his shoulder.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Though... Did you mean that?"

"If I say yes, will you try to kill me again?"

"No," Ed chuckled to himself now, pressing a kiss to the black mop of hair next to his face. The familiarity imbedded in that gesture should disturb him, but it didn't. It was as good of a test of Mustang's sincerity, in fact.

"In that case, yes, I did." Mustang dragged himself up on his elbows, laying straight over Ed's body and touching their noses together. "Do you?"

"I think I do," Ed admitted, darting his tongue out to lick at Mustang's lips.

"So can I touch you without getting injured now?"

"Sure." He felt himself smirk as the General pressed his lips down on his, the kiss surprisingly chaste compared to what they had been doing before.

"How much?"

"As much as you can legally do?"

"You're my subordinate."

"Oh. As much as you could legally do if I weren't?"

"Good enough."

Ed practically mewled in delight when their kiss finally resumed, no matter if it was himself who had ended it in the first place. His arms wrapped around Mustang's neck, pulling him closer.

One hand found its way into his hair, tugging on the hair tie where it has sagged down to his shoulder. The other moved smoothly downwards, fingers teasing over his skin and making goose bumps rise all over his torso. He wriggled around, pressing into the wandering hand and hooking his right leg around the man's legs at the same time.

Roy released his mouth to allow him to suck in much-needed oxygen and nibbled a track down his jaw and throat. Ed turned his head back into the sheets to give him better access, making a low rumbling sound in his throat in appreciation. The General nipped on a vibrating muscle, making Ed gasp en ache for more.

"Mustang," he muttered, trying to press the man closer.

"At least say Roy in a situation like this," he could practically hear the General rolling his eyes before he received another nip to his collarbone, and he nudged his flesh knee into the man's side in retaliation. Mustang actually flinched, but didn't complain, and it took Ed a minute to realise he just dug his knee into the large scar on the man's abdomen. Momentarily forgetting about the lips working his throat he reached down and smoothed his automail hand over the scar in silent apology. He had intended to nudge the man, not to really hurt him.

"See? You can be sweet if you want to." Ed gasped when Roy sucked on a nipple, keeping him from bringing up a retaliation.

"Bastard," he mumbled silently, hooking his automail up to circle around the General's hips this time. Roy shuddered at the touch and moved back up to face him.

"That's cold."

"Deal with it."

"So romantic," he rolled his eyes again and captured Ed's lips again, Ed responding all too eagerly. This time the hand that wasn't playing with blonde hair found its way down the middle of Ed's torso, slightly trailing a line until fingers rested on the waistband of his boxers. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, pulling back from their kiss to look at Roy in expectation. But the black eyes merely slid down his throat – as if admiring the view at a time like this – while the fingers explored a few inches of the waistband to the left and right.

"Roy," Ed finally whined in complaint, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Are you in such a hurry?" The man smirked, dipping his fingertips beneath the waistband just enough to tease his skin, but not touch what Ed was hoping for.

"Maybe I am," he grouched, "if you're going to play around all day, let me at least call Al first."

"Not sure if you'll be able to find him though," Roy muttered against his skin as he resumed his nibbling on his collarbone.

Ed's eyes widened, "what do you mean? Where's Al?"

"By the time we left he was turned into someone personal teddy bear," Roy licked a trace down to a nipple, and Ed involuntarily gasped even through his worry for his little brother. "Chances are he never got to get rid of that job throughout the night."

"If someone is touching one hair on the head of my little brother I'll kill them!" Ed found himself pressed back down on the bed as quickly as he shot up, and a quick kiss silenced him long enough for Roy to smirk at him again.

"Don't worry, he wouldn't hurt you brother. In fact, I think your brother would easily take him down if he even tried anything suspicious."

Ed mulled that over for a second, before he had to agree. Al could take down pretty anyone around here, no matter how fragile his slim body looked. He may be a teenager just after his growth-spurt, but that didn't make him weak. Not to mention whoever the guy was, he was probably suffering a hangover now, and Al was too good to drink a drop of alcohol before he got eighteen.

The moment he nodded his agreement to Roy's statement he found his member in a firm grasp, making him arch back with a violent gasp. The General twisted his wrist two times – giving almost painfully sharp pleasurable tugs – before the hand slipped up and out of his underwear again to trail traces over his stomach.

Shifting the leg around Roy's hips, Ed forcefully bucked up to grind against the other's crotch. They both let out surprised moans at the friction, and Ed felt pretty accomplished after noting Roy was just as hard as he was.

"C'me on," he muttered, bucking up again.

"So far for playing it out refined," Roy groaned, slipping his hand underneath Ed's ass to give leverage as they ground together.

"'s Fine like this," Ed gasped, rubbing up desperately. He needed more friction, more touch. He needed Roy's hand back where it mattered. But for now, he'd keep grinding up until the General lost his control.

He keened when lips found his nipple once again, sucking and licking and biting while the movements of his hips grew erratic and fatigued. He couldn't keep this up, not with Roy still practically sitting on his knees so high up. He needed Roy down, now.

His flesh leg shot out to kick Roy's knees from underneath him, and the air left his lungs with a loud whoosh as the General's weight toppled on top of him. The other wasted no time to grind their members together, before firmly gripping Ed's hips and rolling them over. He nudged Ed's legs out to straddle his hips, pulling him to his knees slightly.

He heaved in air, both in reaction to the stimulation and his surprise at being put on top. Although Roy split his legs – suggestion he had no intention to actually stay down there – he was still sitting on top now. He wondered what he was supposed to think of that.

"Are you really sure about giving me free reign?" Roy asked slowly, his breath tickling Ed's ear and making him shudder. Oh, he liked this. For someone always proud to rebel against anything, he surely found a lot of satisfaction in the thought the General would do things and he'd let him.

"I'm sure," he whispered, pressing his face into the nape of Roy's neck. He sucked on the skin softly, too distracted by his curiosity as to what was about to happen next to do much more.

He tried to buck into Roy's crotch again, but he found himself restrained by two hands slipping around his backside into his boxers. He twitched in surprise when his underwear was smoothly slid down his thighs, and the hands returned to firmly grip his buttocks.

Torn between continuing his grinding and anticipation his hips trembled and remained still, waiting for Roy to go on. He felt mildly embarrassed at the way his erection now stood between his legs, and he hoped he wasn't dripping on the General's stomach.

One hand suddenly left his ass, and he heard the man rummage over his nightstand. Ed grazed his teeth over a hard muscle to indicate he wished a bit more speed in this entire thing. He wasn't getting second thoughts, but he was getting nervous sitting so exposed on top of the other man.

Would Roy be able to tell this was his first?

He gasped and arched when the hand still on him suddenly pried his ass open and an oily finger probed at his hole.

"You need to relax now, Ed," Roy muttered softly, tracing the finger around the puckered hole.

He nodded tersely, forcing his body to relax pretty much as he always did before his automail was being reconnected. Roy pressed the oily finger in with ease, and Ed frowned at the strangeness of the feeling. It wasn't painful – or at least not yet, as he had read – but the uncommon feeling of it made it uncomfortable.

"You're a natural," he felt the chuckle rumble through the man's throat, and Ed bit down in retaliation. Roy jerked in surprise and pressed his finger deeper, before chuckling that insolent sound again.

"Don't make fun of me," Ed growled, bucking his hips back into the finger to prove just how much he could handle. He wasn't going to let the General treat him like some girl.

"I'm not," Roy said softly, kissing the side of his head, "just loosening you up."

Ed paused. He'd never read of preparation through bickering, and he strongly doubted it worked. Strangely enough, there was something so familiar about bickering with the General it was easier to relax his body then when he was all focused on what was happening.

A second finger slid in, and now it was getting more uncomfortable. He felt a slight sting at the opening, and he shifted, trying to find a better position for himself. Roy used his free hand to tilt his hips so that he'd stick his ass as high in the air as possible in this position, and he growled again. The fingers teased and stretched, making him wriggle around and press his face back into Roy's shoulder.

He felt so helpless in this position. Although he liked Roy taking control and caring for him like this, he wasn't used to feeling helpless.

He hissed at the third finger. This actually hurt.

"B-bastard," he ground out, but only received a soothing stroke over his head and down his back. The fingers worked in him patiently and after a little while he was able to relax his body again. The ache was fading, and he was getting used to the strangeness as well. In fact, his own whimpers suggested he had started to enjoy it at some point.

He bit down his teeth, surprised at his own reaction. He stilled his hips as he realised he had been rocking into the General's fingers, but immediately felt the loss.

"You shouldn't feel ashamed Ed," Roy muttered amused, his free hand making small circles over the back of his thighs, "I'm actually trying to make you feel good here."

"B-but," he tried to protest, but found he had no idea what his protest was. Damn this man.

The fingers suddenly slipped away, and Ed let out an involuntary whine. He was rolled back over, pressed gently into the mattress.

"I don't think I can hold back much longer," Roy quietly admitted.

"Then don't," he answered, eyes wide at Roy's sincere face. He was actually serious about this.

He was actually getting what he was hoping for.

Roy tugged on his legs, pulling them up to slide off his boxers completely. As Roy discarded the underwear Ed shot forward to grip down on Roy's, tugging it down insistently. The General reacted with a small strained chuckle and helped Ed getting it off, before pressing his body back into the sheets. A pale hand slipped through his hair, fanning it over the pillow tenderly.

"Told 'm not a woman," Ed grouched, pulling at Roy's shoulders.

"You don't have to tell me when I can see," Roy hoisted Ed's leg up and he felt himself blush bright red at the comment. He felt like covering himself up, but he knew there was no point to it now.

"Can I?" Ed peered down at the question, eyeing the General's erection suspiciously. There was a significant difference between three fingers and that. And if adding the third finger hurt, this couldn't be much better.

"You better go slow, bastard," he muttered, and the intent black eyes widened momentarily. What, hadn't he expected Ed to ask him to go easy on him? He was tough, but not a masochist, damnit!

"I wouldn't hurt you on purpose," Roy promised, "but it will not be pleasant at first."

"Yeah yeah, skip the warnings," Ed grappled at Roy's hips, trying to reach around to pull him closer.

"As you wish." Roy leant forward, one hand firmly holding Ed's left thigh to prop his automail up in the air, the other wrapping around his own length to guide him inside. Ed watched in morbid fascination up to the point he felt the moist tip press against his hole, and he turned his head to the side when it started hurting.

True to his word, Roy moved in slowly, and Ed could manage with gripping the sheets underneath him into his tight fists and grinding his teeth together. A tender kiss on his cheek jolted him up in surprise, and he turned to see black eyes right above him.

"Tell me when you're ready," Roy whispered, placing another kiss right next to his nose, then on his cheekbone underneath his eye.

"Why are you so nice?" Ed asked in a strained voice.

Roy smiled softly, "you need me to tell you again?"

Ed nodded dumbly, wondering if he just didn't believe the answer yet, or liked hearing it too much.

"I love you Ed," the General's breath ghosted over his cheek, and his voice was not much louder.

Ed turned his head to nip at the man's lips. "You what?"

Roy chuckled, nipping back and sucking playfully on his lower lip. "Love. You."

"Then move, you slow bastard."

"Yes sir," he complied, dragging his torso up and replacing his grip on both Ed's thighs.

He gasped loudly when the General pulled back his hips, his erection sliding out torturously slow. Roy smirked at him and pressed back in, forcing a keening sound from Ed's throat. This was definitely not the same as what he read.

A slightly harder thrust had Ed crying out and his back arching, spots dancing before his vision. Now that he had noticed to be mentioned in the books.

"More," he was quick to beg – no, demand – and Roy smirked only shortly before complying again. It seemed like the General had no problems to aim his thrusts straight into the point where he'd stimulate Edward's prostate, and he felt all coherence flee his brain with alarming speed. All he noticed was blissful pressure, agonizing pleasure and his own voice begging for more. Two charcoal eyes drank in the way he looked from a pale face above him, and he couldn't help but want to see that face there forever. He'd show him anything he wanted if that meant he could get more of this and more of him.

"Roy!" He keened, throwing his back and forth before trying to focus on those black eyes again. The General was sweating, but Ed knew he himself was flushed and slick all over too. He more felt than saw the black eyes travelling over his body to take in everything from him, and Ed couldn't even bother to feel self-conscious about his automail, or his erection bobbing on his stomach with each blissful thrust.

The moans and whimpers falling from his lips were beyond his control, and every time Roy's hips slapped against his ass they were squeezed out of his lungs with a sweet force. He wanted them to dim, he wanted to hear the soft grunts of the pale man inside him better, but the General seemed set to let him make as much sound as possible.

He practically wailed when his right leg was released in favour of his dripping erection, and he tried his best to meet the man's thrusts as he was quickly pumped to the edge.

He wasn't quite sure if the animalistic howl did or did not contain Roy's name, but for the moment he couldn't care less as his vision went black and every single muscle of his body went taut.

He breathed in shallow gasps as he came down from his high, watching in fascination as Roy's body rocked in intense spasms as he too released. He wanted to reach up to that raven hair, but he found his arms didn't quite do what he wanted them to do, keeping their position sprawled over the crumpled sheets.

Roy sank down from his position on his knees, allowing Ed's hips to rest on his lap as he sat down to catch his breath. With a weak smile he reached forward to drag a finger through the mess on Ed's chest. He was already dark red in his face from the exertion though, and too spent to feel embarrassed anymore.

"I love you too, Roy."

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