Disorderly Conduct

Edward Elric brushed past the stalls, glistening in a row. He stopped in front of the third stall from the back, peering inside.

He slammed the door closed to the adjoining stall as his heart raced, mind reeling, and his skin tingly from the numb feeling that spread all over him.

He hadn’t expected him to actually come, to fulfill the foolishly childish request that reeked of first loves and first times. He hadn’t planned on what to do when the promise was kept.

Ed fumbled with the buttons on his pants, rushed to unbuckle his belt, and slide the leathery fabric across the slight bulge that tented his blue boxer shorts out. Those, too, slid down his hips with a hiss. He shifted his legs, spreading them a bit in anticipation of the knock, the quiet opening of the unlocked stall door, the entrance and sudden cramped feeling of the enclosed space that would only be replaced by a stifling heat and an experience that would be over all too soon.

And he wanted it all.

He fought the urge to touch himself as he waited, tense and ready, for the knock. His feet slipped further apart in the rubber boots, brushing against the boots of the man next to him. He flushed, but smiled a bit when he noticed the familiar wear spot on the edge of the boot. It identified him, marked him as the one he sought.

Still no knock or even a word.

What was it he had said? Ed wracked his brain, trying to remember what Roy had told him to do, what sign he has asked him to give.

Ed reached down, his right hand, the automail one, slipping under the stall divider. The palm faced up.

“No,” was all Ed breathed as he was pressed against the bathroom wall and arrested.

XXX

His heart had leapt when Roy Mustang cornered him in the men’s bathroom the day before, hot mouth pressed to his with a wet tongue sliding between them.

Ed whimpered, eyes glazed over and his body weak from the tender but heated contact.

Mustang smirked, enjoying a shameless Ed who had probably just experienced his first kiss with a male. He drew his finger over the soft line of Ed’s bottom lip, noticing Ed’s shiver at the coarseness of the fabric as it penetrated his slightly open mouth.

He moved as if to suck, to take the clothed digit in and coat it with his saliva, but felt it draw away.

He wanted more.

Mustang chuckled, only slightly, lest he be caught under the boy’s flaring temper, and pressed his hips against the bony jut of Edward’s. Edward’s eyes, naturally, shot wide at the sensation, but he gasped when he felt the pressure leave.

Mustang pulled away. “Not today.”

“When can I see you?” Cliché, cheesy, romantic, and desperate.

“Tomorrow.” No promises, nothing definite, a vague sense of the word.

“I love you.” So quick to whisper words of love when presented with physical affection.

Mustang hungrily kissed and nipped at Ed’s neck, eliciting a moan the teen fought to suppress as the color rose in his cheeks.

He looked in the mirror after Mustang had left, adjusting his clothing and willing away the pain in his pants. There was a visible mark on his neck, almost like a bruise, but he instinctively knew it could never pass as one.

He’d been marked, but not truly taken.

XXX

The only thought in Edward Elric’s mind was, “this can’t be happening to me” although the situation was painfully real.

It was almost cruel how he had to place his hands on the wall of the bathroom, pants pulled up enough to cover his nude torso but not buckled, as if he shamelessly dropped his pants and spread his legs for any officer who happened to come into the bathroom and pass his hand under the divider.

How was he supposed to know he used the restroom every day in the building’s prime spot for quick and sweaty sex?

How was he supposed to know a tap of the foot meant come hither?

How was he supposed to know that passing his hand under the divider was a call for more than just Roy Mustang to passionately fuck him in the bathroom?

How was he supposed to know Mustang was full of empty promises?

The eyes in the stall had been green, not obsidian. That should have tipped him off.

XXX

Al was one of the few who was sympathetic. Not judgmental. Not pitying. Not disgusted. Not disappointed they didn’t get to mar the pure flesh before the innocence was lost.

At least Al wasn’t empathetic.

“You should have told me, Brother,” he said, his voice hollow and metallic in that shell of a body.

A twinge of guilt as he looked at his brother’s body devoid of sensation, when he himself had shamelessly craved an empty and meaningless contact that held love on only one side. If indeed it was love and not just a crush cursed with hormones in a frustrated and virgin teenager.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“But you should have told me you’re—“

“I’m not!”

“Brother—“

“I said I’m NOT, Al!”

There was no way Ed could be in love with men if they were all heartless like Roy Mustang.

XXX

The dreams plagued him.

Roy sliding against his bare ass, the sound of his balls slapping his flesh as they moved as one pulsating being.

At times it was tender, on soft, cushy fabric. The fabric of a bed. Roy’s bed—he’d invited him home after dinner.

Other times it was rough, harsh, so much that he ached afterwards and had a hard time walking normally. Al had noticed. But there was something thrilling about having a secret lover.

He always woke up in tears with a stained bed and sticky fingers.

What hurt worse? The realization that he’d rather have been used than tricked.

XXX

Guilty. But innocent.

Gay. But straight.

To leave. To stay.

Wrong. But wrong.

Ed had never felt so conflicted.

When had it become wrong to crave the love of another human being?

XXX

Ed shoved his own hand away.

“No,” he whispered aloud, as if to stop his mind and quell the thoughts that brimmed within the corrupt space and cells.

He curled the offending hand into a fist, gritting his teeth, before examining his surroundings. No feet. No breathing besides his own. No noises or abnormal sights whatsoever.

Alone.

He unclenched his hand and allowed it to steady himself, stroking firmly down the length to run his fingers through the precum glistening at the tip. He shivered at the intense feeling that traveled through his nerves as a shock wave to his head and back down to his groin, only making the organ grow stiffer and betray his emotions.

Coming with a shout, he knew the white had coated his hands again, even though he’d closed his eyes.

Ed made a mental note to call Winry the next day.