The Limits of Control: a BDSM love story, Chapter 4, part 2
Chapter 4, part 2
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The rest of the dinner actually went quite well -- well enough that Roy suggested they walk home rather than take the motor-pool car, as March had brought with it a pleasant thaw and the General had missed the outdoors. February had left a brisk edge on the breeze that cut through the warmth of early spring, and the thick smell of storms hung in the air, softening the feel of the city around them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Edward shiver and pull his coat in tighter around him.
“Cold?” Roy asked, hands comfortable in his deep pockets.
“Nope,” Ed said, stepping along quite lightly for a man with an automail leg. Roy kept the concern from his voice.
“You’re cold because you're too thin,” the general suggested. He considered offering Edward his coat, but rejected the idea. It would probably just make the blonde angry, and the two of them had fought quite enough that day already. “It's worrisome. You should eat more.” Though the man looked healthier than he had during their first encounter, when Alphonse had asked for Roy's help, a gaunt look lingered on his face.
Edward gave the other an incredulous look.
“You just saw me put away three plates worth of Xingese food. What the hell about that implies 'starving' to you?”
“Nothing,” Roy responded, keeping his eyes forward to the building at the end of the street. “Your brother just indicated that -“
“My brother talks too much,” Edward muttered. “He looks all cute and shit, but it's a lie. You think that, but then he goes off and fuckin' manipulates you and plans your life in fuckin' secret. It's total crap.”
The elder man laughed.
“Regardless,” he said, “you should take care of yourself. You were practically skin and bones not much more than a month ago.”
“Look at that, Roy Mustang is a worrier. I'll keep an eye on that, mom,” he said, hunched over, his shoes shuffling along the concrete.
Roy kept smiling, and elected not to respond. Instead, he waited an appropriate length of time, then said: “So, I've been doing some research,” and tried to ignore the small warmth that blossomed in his chest at the way Edward perked up immediately.
“Yeah? I didn't know you still did research,” he said, turning questioning eyes to the other. “Wouldn't figure you had time for it between all your political machinations.” He waved his hands around to emphasize just how complicated -- and probably useless -- he found the general's political tactics. Roy's chuckle felt warm and natural in his throat.
“You forget: I was an alchemist before I was a politician, or even a soldier, Edward,” he said. The blonde's gaze locked on him, calculating.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” he said, still watching. “We've just never really talked about alchemy before.” Edward's voice held a faint edge of something that the general couldn't quite pin down. “But we are now, I guess. What's this research you've been doing?”
Roy could have shaken his own hand for having thought to take out some of his old work again and brush up on it before going out with the younger man.
“Although flame alchemy is my specialty, it’s hardly my only area of interest or expertise. I've explored some other areas in the past. Life alchemy. My best work has led me to some theories about alchemically-induced conception, actually.”
Edward bristled immediately. “Isn't that human transmutation?” he asked, sounding downright hostile again.
Roy put up his hands in a placating gesture.
“Relax, Edward. I meant on animals. And plants as well, though I suppose you wouldn't call that 'conception.'”
Edward still looked suspicious. Roy said “alchemy” and “animals,” but Edward heard “chimeras.”
“Why would you do that? You can make a perfectly good animal with just a male and a female. Put them together for a bit? Bam, babies. No alchemy required.”
Edward's straightforward nature never failed to be refreshing.
“Granted, but what if one female has a particular desired trait, and you want to recreate that trait without the danger of losing the gene in recombination? Maybe you could re-create the mother by copying the cell and making it grow into a new animal. It's like parthenogenesis. Lots of animals do it already.”
“Still sounds like you're trying to create life, and that's dangerous ground, Roy,” said Edward, and it occurred to Roy that he might never have heard Ed say his name before.
The younger man seemed to have relaxed once again now that the conversation had moved back on to familiar turf, and their disagreement felt more academic than anything.
“See, that's not the point. The conception of offspring is just where you start, something we would need to understand how to do in order to take it to the next step. Oh, don't look at me like that, Edward,” Roy said, because the other man's brow furrowed deeper. “If we do it right, maybe we could recombine genes to bring out certain desired traits, or even add in new traits to a zygote or seed. Then, we would allow them to grow naturally, but with the characteristic that we want. There would be no combining adult plants or animals. It wouldn't be painful for the creature at all.”
“Maybe not, but you're talking a new kind of chimera, here. You know I don't like chimeras.”
Roy huffed. The younger man's excess stubbornness and inability to compromise had saved his younger brother from a horrible fate, had probably saved every person in Amestris, but sometimes he wished Ed was a bit less intractable.
“Hear me out, Edward. I don't mean chimeras,” said the flame alchemist, gently. “I mean genetic modification. If we could just figure out what makes a genotype express itself in the way that it does, and which genes correspond to which traits, we could do amazing things. We could make crops more drought-resistant, make animals less prone to diseases, anything we could think of. We could feed a lot of people with this kind of research, and I have quite a head start. In theory, anyway.”
There was no response for a moment: Roy looked over at the other man only to find Ed staring, unblinking, in front of him as his feet carried him automatically forward. After about two minutes of this, the elder finally prompted:
“Edward? Are you alright in there?”
That shook Ed out of his trance like magic.
“Just peachy yeah,” he said, and as he did so, something in his whole manner changed, like he was just barely containing a world of energy inside himself. A smile slid across his face, and when he looked at Roy all he could see was the intense wonder in those golden eyes.
“I'm not so sure about the animals thing, but the plants -- I'm sure that if you got a microscope powerful enough, all the right equipment, a lab full of people...” He paused. “I think you might really be on to something.”
Roy's mouth quirked up, half out of pride and half in shared joy at the sight of Ed's delighted look. He could see a thousand gears cranking in Edward's head, and felt that familiar warmth again.
“Well,” the older man began, “the fact is that I really don't have the time to undertake a major project like that, not if I want to change this country.”
Edward deflated immediately, but nodded anyway.
“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he said, unable to hide his look of disappointment. A pang of guilt shot through Roy then. “You're busy an' stuff.”
“No, no, it's not what you think. I'm sorry I phrased it that way. What I meant was, I'd like it very much if you took on my old work. It's been getting a bit lonely. I’m sure it would like some company.”
Ed just stared at him, jaw working around something he wanted to say.
“Are you serious?” he asked after a pause, eyes practically shining with awe and a look that ran a hair too close to adoration.
It was funny that Ed thought Roy might consider himself superior to the younger man. He had gotten it the wrong way around.
“I am. I'd be happy to give you my notes, and help you get started.”
“But... aren't they in your code, and stuff?” he asked. Only then did the general notice that they had reached Victory Square, which he estimated marked half way to his house. The city had passed them by quickly, and Roy found himself reluctant to let the walk end.
Roy shrugged. There were not many people, perhaps, with whom he would have shared his precious research. Best not to make too much of that so early in the game.
“I'll give you that, too, if you don't mind reading about all of the women I've ever dated,” he told the other man, a faint smirk cocked on his lips, tone teasing.
Edward screwed his whole face up in what Roy hoped wasn’t surprise or disgust, but probably was.
“You crazy bastard, you made your code up out of --? You know what, nevermind, I don't wanna talk about it any more than I have to. You're weird as shit, you know that?” Ed's voice carried across the whole square: a startled pigeon took off from its roost on the central statue. “But, uh,” he said, restraining his natural volume again, “you sure about that? I mean, isn't your code sacred or something?”
Roy made a thoughtful noise, listening to their footsteps tap across the concrete.
“I suppose under normal circumstances it would be… But I can't do it myself, and I can't think of a better man for the job,” he said, and felt a surge of protectiveness mixed with delight when the man blushed painfully red. “Are you normally this uncomfortable with compliments? I thought you loved it when people talk about you.”
“Well, yeah, usually, it's just that I don't get many from you and shut up, Mustang!”
“I hadn't said anything,” Roy said, because he hadn't, even if the other man could probably see every moment of his thoughts on his face.
“You were smirking,” Ed muttered, thus correcting the older man's misconception. Edward had never been good at reading people.
“No, I was smiling,” Roy said, with a distinct amusement. “It's something people do when they're happy. You should try it sometime.”
“...Smug bastard,” the other said after a moment. The way he said it this time sounded almost fond, like a term of endearment. Unconventional, but Roy was probably going to have to get used to it.
He decided that he wasn't going to think about getting used to Edward Elric, or what it meant that he was. Instead, he opened his mouth and let ideas out, ideas that had been bubbling inside him for the better part of fifteen years, ideas that he had never shared with anyone before because was anyone really listening? Biology and chemistry, theory and shapes and symbols passed between them, and Edward listened with that keen intelligence that grew into a manic delight, throwing ideas back at the elder man and turning questions that had been old and stagnant five years ago upside down in the way that only Ed could do.
Roy's front door startled them out of their conversation much more quickly than he had anticipated
“Oh. I guess we're here, then,” said the younger man, apparently as surprised as Roy.
“I guess we are,” Roy replied, and fumbled around for the keys to his recently repaired lock. He managed to check the murky depths of all of the eight pockets in his navy trenchcoat before touching cold metal in the front left.
Apparently Edward had no patience for such mundane activities. Before Roy could pull out his keys, Ed clapped his hands and stepped towards the door.
“Edward...” Roy said in warning as he fished them out. They chittered against each other as he flipped through them for the right one, single-handed. Ed gave him a guilty look.
“What? I would have locked it back up again. I transmuted it back to normal last time, didn’t I?”
“You have a lot to learn about basic social etiquette,” Roy returned with some amusement.
Ed flashed the older man a grin as he unlocked the door properly, with the items that had been created for that purpose.
“Nah,” the blonde replied, as the elder stepped into his wood-paneled entryway. “I know all the rules and shit. I just decide to ignore them sometimes,” he said, sauntering in behind.
“Of course you do,” Roy said, quite resigned to it by this point. “On another topic, I'm sorry: I'm afraid I didn't quite realize we were en route to my house. I had intended to walk you by yours first.” He moved inward, and hung his coat on the stand by the door.
Ed snorted. “Like I need escorting anywhere, Mustang.”
“Of course not, but it prolongs the time we spend in each other’s company without crossing any boundaries. Again, that is basic social etiquette,” the general replied, a twitch to his mouth betraying his amusement.
“What the fuck ever, I can take care of myself,” the blonde said, stripping out of his own long jacket and letting it fall to the floor as he flopped down in front of the unlit but pre-laid fireplace. He gave Roy an expectant look.
“Please, make yourself at home,” Roy said, dryly, as he pulled a glove out of his pocket, put it on, and snapped. A fire burst into life, dancing over dry wood, and Ed made a pleased noise as he scooted closer to the flame.
“I can call the motor pool, if you like. They still have drivers available until about midnight on weeknights,” Roy offered. He took one look at the couch, then at the man who had taken over his carpet. Instead of using his furniture like an adult, he walked over to Edward and sat right down next to him.
Ed gave him an odd look, automail arm thrown over one raised knee as Roy crossed his legs in front of him. The other man kept staring in silence, until Roy just had to ask:
“...What? What are you giving me that look for?”
The edges of Ed's mouth crooked up, just enough.
“I just didn't figure you for a floor-sitting kind of guy,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “Or a crosslegged kind of guy.”
Normally, perhaps not, but tonight was a special occasion.
“The fire is warm,” Roy said with a shrug. “I like the heat. I've been known to sit closer to it once in a while, on a chilly day.”
Ed didn't have anything to say to that, evidently: he turned to face the fire, eyes closing in evident pleasure. Roy watched the man's shadow, flickering in the firelight. As the silence dragged on he became painfully aware of the awkwardness between them, born from unexamined expectations.
He didn't even know what he himself had wanted from the evening, and had even less of an idea what Edward had been expecting when he accepted the older man's suave and yet somehow incompetent offer. But when in doubt -- at least on a date -- Roy kept to a policy of erring on the side of chivalry.
“You didn't answer me earlier. Shall I call you a ride?” he asked, quietly, so as not to break the still of the air.
Ed threw him a look that he couldn't read.
“You kickin' me out?”
“Well, I thought, since it was a first date” -- the word “date” seemed comically underdescriptive for the actuality of the evening -- “that I would play the gentleman for -- mmph!” he said, articulately, because Edward's lips had just come forward and smothered his own. For a beat it hung awkwardly between them, caught on Roy's surprise, but once his brain had caught up with the rest of him he relaxed into it, bringing up his hand to cup the younger man's cheek.
Slowly -- so slowly, there was no rush -- Roy tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth just a hair, just a fraction, just enough that when he drew his tongue across Ed's bottom lip, the man pulled in a sharp breath through his nose.
A pause -- then, the blonde man opened his mouth and carefully, hesitatingly, did the same. Warmth grew in Roy's chest, steady and strengthening, and he moved his unoccupied hand to thread through the other man's hair before he opened his mouth properly.
Their tongues met in Ed's mouth as their lips moved against each other, Roy guiding, Edward following, slowly gaining strength as he grew more comfortable, more confident. He flicked the tip of his tongue against Roy's and the older man groaned, finally letting his eyes fall shut.
The best thing about Edward Elric, Roy thought as he pulled Ed's bottom lip into his mouth and nipped at it, was how quickly he learned new things. Well, maybe the second-best thing, he corrected as his teeth and tongue drew another deep moan out of the other man's throat. The sound kindled desire in earnest, sparking need low in his stomach.
Roy ghosted his fingers down Ed's neck, remembering the response it had garnered last time. He wasn't disappointed -- Edward leaned in to the touch and made another one of those noises that hit Roy with an almost physical force, tearing a groan out of his own throat. He pushed forward, bracing Edward with his hands as he maneuvered the other man down onto his back -- their bodies aligned with each other, magnetized, with Roy on top so their mouths, their bodies, their everything met and hummed like live wires.
Edward arched up, rocking himself against Roy - a hardness pressed up against his leg, undeniable. The realization of just how much this had affected the younger man made Roy groan, the thought setting his body in motion, hips pressing together in an artless grind of heat to heat, pleasure striking out from the point of contact and lighting him up all over.
And then -- what? -- Ed pushed him up, away, and he felt their lips part with a disappointment that might have manifested itself in a frown if he hadn't felt lightheaded and a bit stupid. He thought he might be smiling.
Then, his gaze met the other man's properly: Edward's eyes caught the red-gold of the smoldering fire, and he stared at Roy with a look that couldn't be described as anything but predatory.
Roy's dominating instincts twinged, and an aggressive want coursed through him: he wanted to take a man who could look at him like a wolf and force him down on his knees. He wanted to hear pleas, cries, whimpers, begging words from a mouth with such a dangerous smile. But Roy Mustang was nothing if not a patient man. He could wait.
“Edward?” he asked, surprised at how his voice cracked on the name.
“Sorry, I...” Ed began, panting. “Sorry. Breathing now.” He paused, heat low in his gaze. “Shit, I had no idea...” Roy's mouth cut upwards into a satisfied smirk. “No idea it could be like that.”
“You should watch what you say. It's going to go to my head.”
Ed gave a short laugh.
“Yeah, and we wouldn’t want that. You're smug enough already without me helping.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, leaning back down to press his lips to Ed's hammering pulse. “You have quite the talented tongue yourself, you know,” he said against golden skin. With discipline worthy of an epic hero, he avoided the urge to bite down and really give the man something to moan about. Instead, he kissed upward, along the column of Ed’s perfect neck.
Roy could hear Ed's breaths turn into pants again: he considered relenting, for just a moment, long enough that the other man could calm himself some. He paused right at the join of Ed's jaw, and in that moment heard:
“You know, you were really hot earlier, when you were talking about your research,” he said, running an automail hand up Roy's back, the other clenched at his collar.
Roy froze, and hid laugh came out in a sudden burst. “I might have known you had an alchemy kink,” he said and pulled away to see Ed's face properly. The man looked slightly put out, and Roy ran a hand through blonde hair, soothing, unable to keep the relentless upward curve of his mouth under control.
“Are you making fun of me?” he asked, frowning.
“No, no, not at all. Not even remotely,” Roy replied. “It's very you. It's not at all a bad thing. I was just - surprised, that's all. An alchemy kink,” he said, smiling still.
“I dunno about kink,” said Edward, cheeks dusting to pink. “I just think it's really attractive when people sound smart. That's all.”
Roy wasn't sure he'd ever felt so blindsided so many times in one evening. Like everything else about the man, conversation with Edward Elric was an unpredictable, wild thing. Earlier in the evening, the general had been the focus of Ed's irritation and fury: now, he found himself on the receiving end of one of the best compliments in recent memory.
Two hours ago, it had been inconceivable that the younger alchemist would ever truly respect Roy in the area of his most prodigious talent: he had heard hundreds of snipes over the years, from competitors and especially from Edward himself, which all more or less came out to “one-trick pony.” This was not fair or true, but nevertheless Roy knew he fell far short in comparison to Edward's natural genius. The general knew a lot of talented alchemists, and counted himself among them. He did not call someone a genius easily -- nor would he ever say it in Edward's hearing -- but he had seen the edges of the younger man's frightening brilliance and knew what that diamond-sharp mind could accomplish. Genius was the only word for it.
“You know, I believe that's the first time you've ever complimented me,” Roy said, because it was. He lowered himself down to Edward's neck again and breathed in the scent for just a moment, just that one, then dragged his teeth lightly across the corded muscle at the junction of Ed's neck and shoulder. The man shuddered in a breath.
“Maybe I should --” A thick noise from deep in the blonde's chest interrupted his sentence as Roy bit down hard. “Maybe I should -- uh -- do that more often. Fuck,” he moaned, letting his head fall to the side as the older man worked at the spot, tongue and lips assuaging the pain he had caused.
“Maybe you should,” Roy said. He drifted one hand down between the other's legs, pressing a hard palm into what he found there, and the proud man whimpered. “So,” he purred, licking a trail up the side of Ed's neck until he reached the ear, swiping his tongue across the delicate shell, “are you ready for something a bit more... challenging?” He sank his teeth into the man's earlobe, not quite hard enough to draw blood. Certain authority slipped over his voice, and excitement curled through him. “Tell me what it is you want,” he said, words rumbling up through his chest and straight into Ed's ear.
The man shivered, closed his eyes -- but there was no answer. After a moment, he opened them again.
“You know what I want?” Ed asked, the look on his face unreadable.
“What's that?” Roy asked, body thrilling to the words.
“Can we...” he said on a breath, “have not that tonight?” he asked, and the older man saw a flash of fear on the other's face, replaced almost as quickly with a small scowl.
Roy blinked, and frowned.
“You mean... not sex?” he asked, idea so foreign as to almost have no meaning.
“No, I mean... I don't wanna get tied up,” said Edward, watching the other with wary eyes. “Is that... cool?”
His brain could regain enough coherence to say: “Of course we don't have to,” because he knew that it was the right answer. “But can I ask why?”
“Do I need a reason all the time? I just don't wanna, is that good enough or isn't it?” Ed snapped. He looked for a moment like he might push Roy off of him and stand up, but kept himself still. Roy pulled back and gave the other man a smile to cover his confusion.
“Of course. That's fine. We'll do whatever you're comfortable with,” Roy said, trying not to let anything through in his voice.
Ed rolled his eyes.
“It's not about what I'm comfortable with. It's about what I want tonight. Am I bein' clear enough for you?” He stated the last part more than asked. Then, his face smoothed, and his mouth turned up wickedly.
“Trust me when I say, when that's what I want, you will know.” This time, Edward's words were a purr as he reached up to thread his fingers through Roy's hair.
“I like the way that sounds,” Roy said, holding perfectly still as he waited to see what the other man was going to do.
Without warning, the general's back hit the carpet with the blonde man's body pressed onto his own, his weight and the lips on Roy's neck pinning him there as surely as chains. Edward sucked at the pulse he found there, moving down to just inside the collar of Roy's shirt, and nipped gently -- Roy's skin began a slow burn that stayed there even as Roy's mouth trailed down to the hollow above his collarbone. Ed worked hard at the spot, hard enough to sting, and Roy groaned under the attention.
“Maybe, gentler,” the man said as his eyes fell closed, voice husky and not his own. “You're going to, mm, leave a mark.”
“Don't care,” Ed growled into the general's other shoulder, then bit down on it too. Roy pulled in a breath so sharp it caught him off-guard, and let his eyes fall shut.
Slowly, tantalizing, Ed worked the second button on the older man's shirt free, even as his mouth continued doing wonderful things to the bend of Roy’s neck. The blonde drew the tip of his nose up the pulsing artery, past the hinge of his jaw, and flicked a tongue out experimentally over the shell of the other man's ear. Roy gave an encouraging moan that turned throaty when a dexterous hand found its way to the hardness in the front of his pants and rubbed it, traced it through the cloth --
-- and then disappeared suddenly as the hot weight disappeared from above him. Roy was sure that the tiny bereft noise he heard hadn't been his own.
He opened his eyes to see Ed standing above him, glowing in the firelight and grinning like the devil himself.
“Right. Well, thanks! I've had a great time,” he practically chirped, and Roy felt a different kind of slow burn -- one of horrified realization.
“What? You're leaving?” he asked, breath still coming hard as his mind reeled, trying to keep up.
“That's right,” Ed said, looking as smug as Roy had ever seen him. “Figured you could use a lesson or two yourself, on how it fucking feels to be left like that.”
Roy was in control. He was in complete control. He could have cried.
He stayed still for just a moment -- just long enough to collect himself -- then stood, slowly.
“If you feel you must,” Roy said, choked, like he was deeply in pain. “I'm not sure that's necessary, but if you insist.” His erection began to ache preemptively at the realization that it wouldn't be getting any more relief than the palm of Roy's own hand tonight, or for the next several nights. “Shall I call you a cab?” he ground out.
“Nope, I'll walk, thanks,” he said, altogether too cheerfully, and Roy valiantly resisted the impulse to take control, to make Ed change his goddamn mind. Edward walked over to the entryway and put a hand on the doorknob, standing there for just a moment. “Now, let's see how long you can go without jerking off, Mr. Self-Discipline,” he said, then took off into the street with a grin that burned, like fire.
Roy could have set the goddamn door on fire. He didn't, to his credit: but as he slammed said door shut he did curse fluently and repeatedly, even constantly, in a stream of every obscene word and gesture he’d ever learned.
He most definitely did not touch himself that night, alone in his room (imagining Edward spread out beneath him, panting and moaning and desperate) or muffle a cry with his own hand when he came.
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No-sex porn! Adorable dumbasses! Are we having a good time? If you're having a good time, let me know!
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