Everyday Is Exactly the Same
M'kay...Pardon my lack of ficcage, but I bring you my first smut!fic in repennance. ^.^ My recent obsession with Nine Inch Nails and the all too sexy Trent Reznor led to the creation of this. You might like to listen to Every Day Is Exactly The Same, because it is the namesake and inspiration for this...
So, Enjoy.
Everyday Is Exactly The Same
Title:Everyday Is Exactly The Same
Fandom:Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing:RoyEd
Rating:NC-17/ R-ish
Warnings:Yaoi, Angst, Post series, pre movie madness. Me writing. Roy POV
Summary: I wish this could have been any other way...
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"It's not possible for you to stay, is it?" The pleading in her voice still haunts me, that she had almost lost me and now clung to me like a child, clutching a stray that their parents wouldn't allow them to keep. It was almost that pathetic.
Couldn't she see that I couldn't use her like that? Every other woman had only been in my life for a few weeks at the most, and when they failed to intrest me, I tossed them aside, marked their number out of my address book and moved along. It didn't matter how long I had known them, she was no exception. She shouldn't be willing to risk herself, her job, her life for me like that. All I could do was shake my head and continue walking, leather suitcase slung over my shoulder, and turn towards the car once more.
She called me a coward, I think. She yelled after me for quite sometime, probably chased the car after I made my exit, I never turned to check. But she was right. I am a coward. She is one of my dearest friends, losing her would mean losing everything. I'd already lost Maes, and Edward... I can't help the way I am, I can't stop to consider her any different from any other woman if she is naked in my bed. In my office, she is just one of my men, the closest of my commerades, and I can't have it any other way.
That, and if she found out about the dreams, she wouldn't want anything to do with me, and if we were together, it would only be a short matter of time before that came to light. But, I digress.
By the time I had reached the closest road to the outpost, I still hadn't regretted my decision. Havoc was silent. He trusted all of my decisions entirely, not once asking "You sure you want to do this, cheif?" for which I was eternally grateful. I had mourning to do, and dreams of a most disturbing and perverse nature to put an end to, and research to do. Here, there was minimal paperwork, I was free to search for sightings of the Fullmetal Alchemist, and to research the very minimalistic feild of dream alchemy, with a wide array of books in crates on the floor on the barely livable shack.
Havoc left as soon as he'd helped me get settled, not seeming to notice that my fireplace remained unlit. I stepped outside some five minutes later, and remained at my outpost for all of thre and a half hours before going back inside. There had to be some form of mind numbing work to be done somewhere. Maybe I'd be so tired for scanning books and giving minimal reports of local happenings(or lack thereof) I might not dream tonight.
I should have known otherwise. My former job actually entailed far more work and was far more mind numbing and I frequently had these dreams then. For the first time, I felt I might have made a mistake. I reached for a box of matches and reached for some firewood, filling the fireplace, and my small new home with light and warmth. It was dark outside now, and with nothing else to do, I supposed I should be getting ready for bed. Approximately fifteen minutes later, I climbed into bed.
I must have drifted off, because, the next thing I knew, I was in the dream. I knew it was a dream because it always remained the same. My surroundings alone screamed for me to wake up. I was in a home I had found some time ago to be the old home of the Elric brothers. Alphonse, his proper age and state of mind, poked his head out of the kitchen, mixing bowl in hand, and smiled. "Hey, Colonel Mustang. Ed's upstairs. I'm just making the icing for his birthday cake, I'll be along in a minute, but he's in the study if you want to visit. Just remember not to say anything to him about the party." He winked "It's a surprise."
I blinked, and, involuntarily, I replied "I guess that makes me the first guest then...?"
Al, who had retreated back into the kitchen said "Yep. The rockbells will be down in half an hour, and more people will arrive later."
"I hate being early." I mumbled, walking towards the stairs, hesitating, and then starting to climb up.
He would've been seventeen today...I thought to myself, logical thought still working perfectly. I reached the top of the stairs, the partially opened door to the study, and hesitated again before pushing the door open.
Ed sighed, tossed the book he'd been reading aside, and looked up at me. "Al send you up here to distract me from his party planning, bastard?"
I grinned "I'm not supposed to say."
"I'll take that as a yes. Al's terrible with surprises." Ed paused to lick his lips, which made my heart lurch. It was going to be the same as always, no doubt about it. "So, then...why don't you distract me?" He grinned with supposed innocence up at me, suggestion lacing his eyes with a long hidden offer he'd been wanting to extend for some time.
I took a step forward, my mind urging me to wake up, my heart pounding, and said "What do you suggest, Edward?"
Apparently, me not calling him by his alchemist's title was invitation enough to stand in front of me and place a hand on my chest, my mind screaming at me to slap it away before things went to far, for him to stand on tiptoe, which I couldn't even remark on as he leaned dangerously close to me and whispered "oh, you know..."
And I was kissing him before he could make a more vulgar suggestion, my hands firmly planted on either side of his face, and we fell back on the couch, me over him, hand wrapped around a cold metal wrist, trying to breathe."So, that then?..."
He said nothing, but arched his body up to meet mine, making it apparent, as always, my assumptions were correct. And then, he laughed "Finally. Finally. You're mine, right? This isn't just some weird birthda--"
I covered his mouth with my own, not wanting to hear his speach, confessions of long hidden love, which would only deepen my guilt, my thoughts on something that couldn't even be possible, he'd never have feelings like this for me in a million years. Never. So why did I dream about him this way?
I am pulling his shirt over his head, he is unbuttoning mine with practiced patience, and mu lips brush up and down, over the soft skin of his chest, licking a nipple as I undo his belt buckle. He is reaching for my pants at first, but then settles them on my bare back, rubbing them appreciatively over my pale, marred skin, encouraging me to go lower.
I've never done this to a man, but I've watched enough women do it to me, that I suppose the spectating would give me some idea of how this was done. I'd lost all hesitation, not caring that it was wrong in so many ways, didn't care that this was impossible, but for some reason, when my mouth came in gentle contact with his painfully erect cock, I realized I wanted this. How long was unsure, but I knew I never wanted to stop. Why was also unsure, but as I awkwardly positioned my mouth over his cock and practically swallowed it, I could have died there. I could've cared less. I needed him. I heard him whimper four different versions of my name, and appreciative curses, like 'fuck' and 'oh, god!' I wanted to taste his come and draw it all out from him as he struggled not to let his brother hear. In a moment, as he wriggled on the couch and struggle to keep his noise to quiet whimpers, I got my wish and swallowed eagerly.
I jumped back over him and kissed him, caressed his chest and back just to hear him groan into my mouth. I knew he could taste himself and wondered if he liked it. I had no emotional problems with this with me grinding my own cock against his leg. He pushed on my arm, and seemed to say he wanted to return the favor, but no. I wanted to feel him every second, I didn't want his skin to leave mine for a fraction of a second, but a moment later, I couldn't bear that either. I sat back on my knees and quickly tore my pants off, spitting onto my hand and stroking my own cock. with the mixture of precum and spit forming a loose lubrication, I forced my way into him, no time for such practicalities as accomidating him to my size.
He gasped, and got hard again fast. His arms reached for my back and his fingertips dug into my shoulders.
He turned his face into the cushions of the couch and screamed, sobbing.
"Edward?"
"Don't placate me, bastard. Don't stop."
"Don't stop placating you?" I grinned, not wanting to miss and opportunity for fun at his expense.
"Damnit, bastard, FUCK ME!!!" He tried not to yell and draw attention from his brother, so he yelled that into the cushions too.
"I'll do you one better." I said, beginning to thrust into him, gaining a comfortable but rythymless pace. I leaned into his ear whispered "I'll make love to you."
His fingers tightened on my back. I expected him to be embarassed, but he shut his eyes, struggling to breathe and whimpered "please..."
I chuckled and nodded, gaining a faster pace as his face reddened and his breathing became erratic. It was getting strenuous and painful to keep this up, my arm was cramping, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I still knew it wasn't real. "Look at me." I whispered, and he opened his eyes, as I leaned down and kissed him, wrapping one hand around his cock, the other around the wrist of his cold metal arm, and felt him tremble as he came. He whispered "Royyyyyy...." frantically and I kissed him again, finally findin my own release. I maintained my breathing after a moment, and whispered "Happy birthday..." as I pulled out of him.
I liked the taste of his come, so I licked it off of his stomach and he giggled. "stoppit...tickles..."
I smile and help him clean up and get dressed and cleaned up once more. I can tell he's worn out, and I doubt he'll survive his party without getting a wrench to the head for falling asleep, but I won't be around to bear witness.
"will you come back?" He asks quietly
"always..." I whisper in reply.
"You better. I'll kick your ass if that was only supposed to be a one time deal."
"Never." I shake my head and turn to the door
"G'bye Roy..." He mumbles, almost as if he knows.
But he can't.
The first step I take out of that room is always the last. I wake up, feeling naiive.
After all, what thirty-something year old still has wet dreams, about teenage boys of all things?
I change my sheets and have absoloutely no remorse for that dream. It's not wrong to me, it's just foolish. The part of me that would have pushed him away died when he dissapeared. I'm not saying I love him or that it hurts when I always wake up alone. I just wish this could be any other way, knowing for certain he's gone forever, or waking up with him beside me would make these dreams make a lot more sense.
I'm just saying, I want to break this routine, but the exact same thing, save for those few days I have visitors, are exactly like the ones before, like the first one. I long to be the person they remember, but I've been left alone for so long with my dreams of a pretty, but most likely dead, face. A boy, at one time, I would've died to protect, and now, after letting him run off and dissapear...
I didn't know what I should've done.
And now I see him every day, I love him like he wants, and I leave.
That, to say the least, isn't the way I imagined my Edward.
But it's all I have left of him.