A/N: Since (as aforementioned) I have been an utter failure in my consistency, I decided to post this right away. I won’t lie; I’ve only read this twice: when I wrote it, and as the spell-check was running, which doesn’t really count. I’ve never read it as a whole, and I probably won’t. So if I screwed up anywhere that the always-faulty spell-check missed, please excuse it. If I’d re-read this, you wouldn’t be reading it now. If it’s a bit “off,” it’s only because I am incapable of writing things of this nature that don’t wind up…true to nature, so to speak…and that’s not really as poetic as we’d all like to think.

WARNING: Seriously, don’t go reading this if male-male relations offend you. While I always accept and welcome constructive criticism, negativity for the sake of being negative is not, nor will it ever be, acceptable, and your comments will be removed. I’m not going to stand here with a baseball bat to chase you away from things you don’t like. I don’t do masochists and I don’t do morons, so if you’re either, don’t come complaining to me.

Thanks to anyone who can read this all the way through without having homicidal thoughts about me. I know I wouldn’t be able to. Kudos!

Trying hard not to make too much noise, Roy and Ed made their way through the hallways of Roy’s apartment building, stopping briefly for a kiss and a quick grope before one of the two got better sense and pulled the other along. Strangely, it was Ed who gained sense more often than Roy, tugging him along the hall towards his apartment. They stopped at the door, Roy pressing Ed into the door so hard Ed could almost swear he heard it yelp in indignation.

“The…the keys, Mustang, get the keys. No, they’re not in my pocket. Hey!” Ed squeaked, stepping on Roy’s toes with his metal foot. “Seriously, unlock the door before something awful happens.”

“Like what, Mrs. Sterne? If she has issues with it, I’ll do you here; give that old lady something to really complain about.”

“Seriously, Roy, unlock the damned door and get your ass inside. I was an idiot for letting you drink as much as you have.” Ed sighed as he took the keys from his slightly-inebriated lover. “I swear…if Riza heard about this, she’d kick your ass all over Central. Honestly.” He managed to unlock the door and shoved Roy inside. “It’s a good thing I have half the common sense I do now. If I was the same person I was a couple years ago, I would have let you fuck me in the hallway and would have screamed loud enough for half the city to hear. Then you’d be thrown out of the military and wouldn’t have to leave tomorrow. But noooo, it seems that some of Alphonse’s sense of humanity seems to have rubbed off on me, lucky for you.”

He was about to open his mouth to scold Roy more about being irresponsible in public, but he found it was difficult to do when the said object of his ridicule had his tongue in his mouth. Unfortunately for Ed, his argument quickly died in his throat and he allowed himself to be led back into the bedroom, where Roy kicked the door closed and made quick work of removing the clothing from both his and Ed’s upper halves. It wasn’t until Roy began working his way into Ed’s pants that he began to have difficulty. It took him a couple minutes to realize that the pants were literally impossible to undo. However, it didn’t take him much longer to realize why.

“Edward…Ed,” he began, “did you actually transmute your pants to your body?”

“Hell no, that’s dangerous,” Ed replied with a smirk. “No, I just did a quick little transmutation to keep them closed so that a fool like you wouldn’t be able to rush what could be our last nigh—”

His words were cut off—once again—by Roy’s insistent mouth pressed over his. He felt his pants being slowly worked off his hips, taking his boxers along with them. His plan had not only backfired, it actually worked out in the other man’s favor.

“Someone hates me,” he lamented. “Someone very important out there must hate me.”

“Not me,” Roy hummed in a sing-song voice, finally having gotten Ed’s pants off. He tossed them aside and sat back to look at his handiwork. “Very nice, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, well, you may not say so yourself. Now, either you’re going to do this, or you’re going to gawk. Whichever it is, let me know so I can plan accordingly.”

“I am definitely not planning on gawking,” the older man purred, strategically placing a few light kisses along the insides of Ed’s thighs, making the blonde squirm beneath him.

“Whyyyyy are you so damned mean all of the time? You always play around before we do anything serious. I don’t understand how—”

“I’m just taking my time so a fool like you won’t be able to rush what could be our last…”

“Don’t say it,” Ed groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m not a huge fan of situational irony, nor will I ever be, so just don’t.”

“This is why I have all the control in this part of the relationship,” Roy quipped, kissing a path up Ed’s hip leading to his navel. “I’m just more clever, plain and simple.”

Ed narrowed his eyes at his lover and quickly rolled out of his grasp. “You really think you have all the control in ‘this part’ of our relationship? Is that what you think?”

Roy shrugged nonchalantly, obviously unaware of the kind of damage he was inflicting upon his lover’s ego. Ed subconsciously knew it was the liquor talking, but he also couldn’t help but think that it had somehow made Roy more honest as well. After all, while people do say random things while intoxicated, much of it also comes from something true within the person themselves.

“What? I do most of the work, so I should get most of the credit. So what?” he threw out carelessly, causing Ed to cross his arms in disbelief. Was that really what Roy thought, after all that time, that he had been the one making all the decisions? It wasn’t as if part of it wasn’t true, but it bothered Ed a little. He didn’t like the idea of being seen as something to be controlled. Through the military, Roy kept Ed on a leash at work; that didn’t mean it had to be so in their personal lives.

“You know what, Mustang? You can take your control and shove it. I’m not putting up with this tonight. If you still feel this way after you get back, then don’t bother letting me know you’ve gotten back. Give me a transfer and let me think you’re dead. I’ll feel better that way.” He rolled off the bed and began searching for his pants. He was pulled back by the arm as Roy held onto him, refusing to let go for an instant.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Don’t go,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry.”

Ed was relieved to see that Roy had begun to sober up a bit. It didn’t make him feel any better about what he’d said, but it helped to soothe his bruised ego, if only a little.

“I hope you understand that this doesn’t change anything,” he said steadily. “I still don’t want to know if you’ve come back…if this isn’t just the brandy talking. Do you understand? I can’t stand thinking that this is going to kill us, even if it doesn’t kill you.”

“Please kill the ‘doom and gloom’ bit,” Roy groaned. “I got enough of it from Hawkeye; I really don’t need it from the one person I’d expect to understand a little about pride. Just because I’ve come down a peg or two, that doesn’t mean you’ve beaten me completely into submission, Edward. I still have a job to do! I can’t just let…this…get in my way. Don’t get me wrong, I love you more than…but I just…I’ve got to do this. I need this.” He sighed and fell back onto the bed. “Please. Please understand. I need someone to.”

Ed paused, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t know if it was because Roy had been drinking, or if his hormones were going all crazy on him, but he was being unusually vulnerable. Ed hated that, because he knew that it meant that he couldn’t stay angry with the man, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I understand,” he sighed, sitting back on the bed. “I really don’t want to, believe me. But I do. I understand that you have to do what you have to do, regardless of whether or not anyone wants you to. No one wanted Al and me to go off and get all stupid over missing our bodies, but we did anyway. It turned out all right, I guess.” His voice broke off. “I just…I know what had to happen to us…to me…in order to do ‘what needed to be done,’ and I just don’t want that to happen to you. I would die.”

Though he fought against it, tears had begun to gather in his eyes, and before he knew it, he was crying. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall unchecked, aware that he seemed to have cried more in the past couple weeks than he had in the past couple years. He wanted to damn the man lying next to him straight into his grave, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not anymore.

Roy reached up and wiped Ed’s eyes with his fingertips. “Shhh, don’t cry, Ed. I promise…nothing is going to happen to me up there. I won’t let it. I’ll be back before you know it. You’ll probably be so busy back home that you’ll forget all about this.” He sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you. Maybe I should have just made you get on a train and then told you later. It may have been better that way.”

“And I would have hated you for it,” Ed remarked, looking back over at Roy. “As much as I hate this, the one thing I don’t hate about it is that you didn’t lie about it, like you usually do. I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Roy said quietly. “Me neither.”

“Can we just…forget? Is it that easy?” Ed asked, lying down beside Roy. “Can we really just lash out and pretend it never happened, just like that?”

“We used to,” Roy said, smiling. “I remember wondering if you were going to set a bomb beneath my chair one day and blow me to the moon.”

Ed laughed lightly. “Well, that’s not to say I didn’t…” He glanced over as Roy laughed and nodded in response. He found with some relief that he still loved the way the man looked when he was laughing. He was still beautiful to Ed, even when he was being an ass.

In one swift motion, Ed rolled over to straddle Roy’s hips and pressed his mouth to Roy’s, rocking his hips roughly against Roy’s in a not-so-subtle declaration that certain things were indeed going to be forgotten. What he wasn’t indicating was the fact that he was about to stage a coup of epic proportions.

It wasn’t until Ed leaned in to whisper into Roy’s ear that he truly realized how doomed he was.

“Roll over, Mustang.”

Oh. Fuck.

“Really, Ed? Do you even…whoa!” Roy yelped as he was rolled over onto his stomach. He’d forgotten how strong the little bastard could be when he was motivated. When he found himself propped up onto his knees, legs slightly parted, he knew the only thing that would save him from potential rape was if he pleaded for some kind of reprieve.

As if reading his mind, Ed chimed, “Don’t even think about it. Nothing is getting you out of this.” With a clap, he had transmuted Roy’s boxers into a silk rope, which he then used to tie Roy’s hands behind his back. “Is that uncomfortable?”

“Not as uncomfortable as the thought of what’s about to happen, I can assure you,” Roy admitted.

“Calm down, Colonel Chickenshit. Trust me, you’ll like this. I like it. I didn’t think I would, but I really did. That’s thanks to you, really. So please, allow me to return the favor.” Ed tied the last knot and began looking around for the bottle of lubricant Roy usually kept stashed in his nightstand.

Roy sighed, turning his head in an attempt to look at Ed. “So what’s changed since earlier, might I ask? You weren’t so eager to do this when I was actually prepared, so what’s different now?”

Ed grinned, having successfully located the bottle and slicked his fingers. He positioned them at Roy’s entrance, taking care to avoid being too obvious. If Roy jerked away at just the right angle, he’d undoubtedly manage to snap his own neck.

“Funny you should say you were prepared,” he said quietly enough for Roy to barely hear. He slipped a finger inside Roy’s entrance, past the tight ring of muscle that instinctively clenched around his digit. He wiggled it around, looking for the spot he knew would undoubtedly win Roy over in a heartbeat. He wanted to rub Roy’s back, but the non-prosthetic limb was currently preoccupied with something more important. He almost thought of making a joke similar to “just be glad I’m using the flesh hand,” but it only served to remind him of the fact that he would always be stuck with one hand literally tied behind his back. He sometimes wondered if he wouldn’t be better off taking the arm off in times like this…

Kill the self-pity, Ed, you have something a little more imperative going on here, Ed’s conscience that thankfully did not sound like his younger brother or one-time roommate. He didn’t think he could handle either of the Als intruding upon his thoughts at a time like this. No, this voice sounded very much like himself, which is how he liked it.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, preparing to slide another finger inside of his lover.

“I’m not sure…are you…?” Roy inquired, his voice sounding somewhat high-pitched.

“It helps,” Ed affirmed. “Trust me.”

As he saw Roy’s back rise and heard him inhale, he slipped his first finger out and slid two back in, pausing so that the older man had time to adjust. He felt bad for springing this so suddenly, but if he didn’t do it now, he didn’t know if he ever would. He kept searching for that spot Roy somehow managed to find almost instantaneously. When it came to women, as alien as they seemed to be sometimes, Ed had never really failed in pleasing them. Sure, his heart wasn’t into it, but that didn’t mean the rest of him wasn’t. He sighed and curled his fingers slightly, slowly, as to not hurt Roy.

Suddenly, Roy gasped and arched his back slightly. Ed quirked an eyebrow, curious as to what had caused that reaction. He curled his fingers again, in the same motion as before, and like before, he got a similar reaction. He began to scissor his fingers, stretching Roy out and getting him used to the idea, casually finding that spot that seemed to cause his lover to react best before pulling his fingers out. He was all-too-pleased to hear a slight note of disappointment in the sigh that Roy let out immediately afterwards. Of course, he knew he’d never get the truth out, but it didn’t matter. He knew already that this was going to happen, and that he wasn’t going to wind up crippling Roy for the rest of his life.

He reached over, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and putting a good coat of it over his hard-as-diamonds erection (as he had enjoyed what he’d done to Roy almost as much as Roy himself). He positioned himself at Roy’s entrance, making sure that he was aligned properly. If he slipped up, Roy would never forgive him, regardless of how good he’d been before.

“Ready?” he asked, placing a few kisses to Roy’s back.

Roy took a deep breath, nodding as best he could. “Yeah…I think so.”

Ed steeled himself for what he thought would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. He began to slide his length inside Roy, pausing a moment or so to make sure he was clear to go before continuing. He thrust once, just a test thrust, to check his bearings. After determining that the ceiling wasn’t going to cave on him, he gave another thrust, which turned into two, and before he knew it, he had a rhythm going.

Roy, meanwhile, was doing his best to remain somewhat composed. He always managed to retain some dignity in the act of lovemaking, but this was so far beyond that. Roy Mustang was never much for religion, but he prayed to whatever god there was out there that he did to Ed whatever it was Ed was managing to do to him at that moment. He felt a bit of hesitation in his lover, which concerned him. He was suddenly posed with an interesting dilemma: if he admitted he was enjoying himself, perhaps Ed would be comfortable enough to enjoy himself, but it wasn’t as if he could just go “oh, that’s lovely.” No, that would be embarrassing, to say the least. What he really needed was some kind of way to express what he was feeling without being overly-expressive, but also without sounding like a total…

“Fuck,” he uttered as Ed slammed into him, almost as if to say “helloooo, are you paying attention?!”

“There we go,” Ed said with a tone of satisfaction. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Great, Roy thought, his ego will be dining on this for years, I’m sure.

“You little…,” Roy began, trying hard not to let something else slip while he was allowing himself to speak.

“Really?” Ed queried almost mockingly. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

“I think we could argue that point all night, or…we could get on with this,” Roy breathed, trying to remain patient. He didn’t want to sound too desperate, by any means, but that’s partially how he felt. He felt helpless to stop or at least expedite matters.

“This is true,” Ed agreed. “But what fun would it be if I let you have your way?” He gave another thrust. “Fabulous Casanova that you may be, I don’t think you’ll last much longer as is.”

“Hn, I don’t—ah—think I can disagree, so why don’t you—mmm—be nice and stop torturing me?” Roy asked, interrupted every few seconds by the striking of his prostate.

“I could,” confirmed the administrator of said torture thoughtfully, which again, sounded more like mockery than anything.

Groaning, Roy tried to shift his weight to relieve the ache growing in his shoulders, which didn’t go unnoticed by his younger lover, who then reached over and untied his wrists. Roy was then able to use his arms for support as Ed continued to drive into him.

“Now we can get serious,” Ed said, grinning impishly.

What does he mean by “now”? Roy wondered with dread.

Suddenly, he knew what Ed had meant as two hands—one flesh, one metal—grasped his hips and pushed forward, thrusting deep, as if trying to literally reach his heart. He felt as if he was going cross-eyed, and no matter how hard he tried to fix his thoughts, he simply couldn’t.

“Please, Ed, I don’t…,” he gasped, burying his face in the sheets to muffle any sounds he might make.

Nodding, Ed began to pump in and out of Roy at a break-neck pace. He felt as though his own heart could burst from the over-exertion, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop, even if he fell down dead. He couldn’t see how it would matter, though he was so awfully glad he decided to start his vacation time already. He would undoubtedly be in some semblance of a coma for a few days.

Suddenly, he felt a familiar twinge and realized that he was almost at the point of no return. He tried to concentrate on something so that he wouldn’t come too soon; that would be the worst thing that could happen. At that moment, he’d rather give his other arm than face such embarrassment.

Roy clenched his fists and ran a hand across the bed in search of a pillow. “I…I won’t…can’t…Edward…”

“Go, Roy. Come on,” Ed panted, pounding harder into his lover. “Come on, Roy.”

Finally, Roy found the pillow he’d been searching for and shoved his head into it, letting out a low, muffled sound. His back arched and pushed back into Ed, who immediately felt a tightening around his shaft. He gasped as his entire body stiffened; every muscle in his body began to spasm and contract as he came inside of Roy. He couldn’t say anything, as he could barely breathe. He pulled out slowly, trying to avoid causing Roy any discomfort, before he rolled to the side onto his back. Neither man said anything for what seemed like an eternity before Roy finally brought his face out from the pillow and looked at his lover.

“You…are like a golden-haired angel,” he murmured, stroking the side of Ed’s face.

“Is that the afterglow or the booze talking? Either way, you’re insane,” the younger alchemist joked, looking absently over at his automail. “Damn it all, I gotta get this cleaned when I go see Winry and Al. It’s starting to get all gross on me. I mean, it’s not like I don’t clean it, but it isn’t easy to get into every little spot.”

“You love to ruin moments, don’t you?” Roy asked flatly.

Ed grinned. “Every moment I get the chance.”

And there it is. I didn’t really make ya’ll wait NEARLY as long for that as I did with ALTMUF. Of course, then I was just making a point to a writer-friend of mine. I hope you enjoyed. If not, feel free to comment away on my inadequacies. I suck constructive criticism up like a dry sponge.