FMA Fic: Malleability

[wicked_pistil]

Title: Malleability

Pairing: Roy/Ed

Rating: hard R (I think *shrugs*)

Theme: #43

Warnings: Not work-safe; masturbation and Ed needs his mouth washed out with soap, preferably that atrocious Irish Spring stuff. *nods*

Beta: morbid_flower, my botanical comrade.



He had been untouchable. He had been utterly, disgustingly in control of every aspect of his life. Every move carefully contemplated, every ambush plotted to inevitability, every decision prodded until it had earned his confidence.

As Roy Mustang fisted his hand around his cock and tugged roughly up and down, his breath hitching in his throat, warm water from his shower running down his frame, he made the lithe blonde in his mind run one graceful hand through her hair, letting it sway at the ends when she withdrew her fingers from the strands. Her red-brown eyes glinted at him and her soft lips pulled down in a pout. No, wait, not a pout. A frown. A “why isn’t the paperwork finished yet, sir?” frown.

Roy tossed the thought out of his head. He only masturbated to the image of his lieutenant in his mind on Saturdays when he knew she was out of town and the least likely to sense what he was fantasizing about. He would not waste this one-day-a-week indulgence. His fingers went back to work, fluttering once over the slit at the head, slipping down to scratch at his balls briefly, then back up.

Her eyelids lowered over the staring pupils, a different sort of salute. She slid one hand down her side, over the curve of a perfect hip, around to the inside of her thigh and moaned. But the moan was not one he had ever heard escape her lips and, though he couldn’t say for certain, he was sure she didn’t sound like that. The face was unmistakably Hawkeye, though contorted into a passionate abandon he wondered if she ever felt. But the voice; the voice was different. Deeper, huskier, he could almost hear it mutter “bastard.”

Roy’s hand stilled at the base of his cock, recoiling a bit. His mouth tugged down into a grimace, but his cock remained stiff in the enclosure of his fist. He shook his head. Okay, let’s try a brunette.

Sciezka and Maria Ross were the only women coming to mind and not particularly his type. Neither was that voice, but it didn’t stop you from hearing it. Roy gritted his teeth and swore at the words running through his mind. Sciezka it was.

Roy saw her sitting at a desk in the dimmed library. Her head was bowed above a book she was committing to memory, either due to her love of narrative or due to her unstoppable obsession. It didn’t matter why; all that mattered were those deep olive green eyes scanning back and forth with intensity over pages holding all the world’s secrets. Her breasts stretched at the tight knit of her sweater with each inhalation. Then Roy was behind her, sliding his hands up her arms, coming to rest on her shoulders. As he began to knead, her head turned toward him. He leaned down to plant a kiss on those shy lips when they sneered at him. He reared back.

“Do you mind? I’m busy here, shit Colonel,” that voice hissed again.
Roy groaned deep and feral and twisted the faucets in his shower shut with ferocity and ripped the curtain in his haste to escape. He wrapped a towel around his narrow waist and plodded, wet, out into his bedroom. Well, it was clear he wasn’t getting off this morning. Dishes. He would do dishes.

Roy stomped out into the kitchen, slipping with a squeak when he reached the linoleum and flailing a bit before catching himself on the corner of the ice box. He scowled a rather ugly scowl and started to run water into the sink over his total of eight dishes, including silverware. This wouldn’t take nearly long enough.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Roy saw himself lounging against the high back of a luxurious-looking red upholstered chair with his legs crossed at the knees, his hands folded into each other, and resting on a notepad. This imagined Roy rolled a cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, exhaled a swaying smoke ring and smirked back at him.

Roy gaped at the vision in his head. Here he was, fantasizing about fucking his fifteen year old male subordinate, and now he was hallucinating, too?

“And how does that make you feel, Roy?” the Roy with the cigar said through a smirk.

Fucking perverted, he wanted to say. Then he seemed to realize there was no one there to say anything to and went back to compulsively scrubbing at that stubborn yellow ring on the inside of his coffee mug.

This was ridiculous. He’d have to ask Maes what was in that vodka they’d been drinking the night before. He’d never had a hangover like this in his life. He’d never seen any male, much less that smart-mouthed brat when he was jerking off before! Roy frowned. Someone like Havoc he could see; the lieutenant was an attractive man. Not that he’d ever noticed, of course. And not that he’d ever fantasize about him. But, really, the point was that he’d fantasize about Havoc or Maes or Fury or, hell, even Breda before he’d jerk off to Fullmetal.

And not even the image of Fullmetal. Roy was man enough to admit that the boy was shaping himself into a handsome young man. But he wasn’t fantasizing about Fullmetal’s chiseled body or intense eyes or long blond hair, but instead of his screeching, shrill, horrible voice! That voice that berated him at every turn. That voice that could sneer without lips. That voice that would spat out his name and call him “useless” and “shit” and -

Roy glanced down at the erection poking up the corner of his bath towel. Well, now, that was just sick.

He stalked off to his study, rummaged roughly through the drawers of his desk and withdrew the Little Black Book. He glanced around with shifty eyes just to ensure that Havoc hadn’t heard him open the drawer from across town.

Maybe he would see Laura tonight. She had mentioned liking picnics and this would be a lovely day to enjoy one. Or maybe Susan would be up for some shrimp at the new Xingian place downtown.

Roy frowned. Not the s-word. Not that word that reminded him of the shrimp of his fantasies that was positively good enough to eat.

There was definitely something wrong with this, right? Roy dropped himself onto his sofa and sank into the cushions, his shoulders slouching forward. He wished that he’d had enough forethought to pour himself an early morning drink before seating himself.

He groaned. Roy knew he had been wrong about many things, most things, in his life. He’d made many errors, many misjudgments. And he regretted them. But one thing he had been sure, positive, certain about - was the fact that he was undeniably, hopelessly straight. He loved women and dating and even romance with a passion some men reserved only for fine wines or sporting events (it depended on the man). The female form enchanted him. It made him want to howl and scratch and drink deeply; it made him a beast in a mere man’s skin. So when did his attention turn toward square jaws and strong hands and Adam’s apples?

Roy sat up straight and balled his fists on his thighs. No. He wasn’t interested in men. He just wasn’t. He never was before and wasn’t now. He’d drowned his mind in copious amounts of alcohol the night before and he’d gotten little sleep and he hadn’t eaten yet. That was the problem. Another drink would be the solution.

The phone rang and stopped him on his quest to the liquor cabinet. Roy thanked the heavens for the distraction and rushed to the phone, answering before the second ring had ceased.

“Was that not the best vodka you have ever had last night?”

Roy sighed contentedly at the familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Maes, that knocked me out like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t think I’ll be having any of that next time.”

Maes laughed and conversation passed twenty minutes of Roy’s tortured Saturday morning. After they had said their goodbyes and hung up, Roy’s hand froze on the receiver. Where were the jibes about not having a wife yet? Why hadn’t Maes asked him when he was going to provide playmates for Elysia? Roy growled and redialed his friend.

Maes seemed surprised by Roy’s questions.

“Gracia told me to lay off and just let you ‘do whatever you needed to be happy,’” Maes said and Roy could almost see him making those quotation mark gestures with his fingers.

“And what in the world is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, then realized how suspicious that must sound. Maes worked in Investigations, he’d figure it out in a minute!

Maes chuckled. “Jumpy, Roy?”

“I was afraid that you were under the weather when you didn’t grill me as usual,” Roy recovered.

“Hmm,” Maes said before excusing himself and hanging up the phone.

Roy grunted and resettled in his seat. He really was thinking too much into this. What he needed was to just get out of the house and get some fresh air and not think about that brat. He shrugged on his long black coat and stepped out into the crisp morning air.

When he arrived at the park, he sat on a bench and watched out over the grass. Couples were sitting on blankets, holding hands. Children chased after their dogs and squealed in delight. A redhead in her early twenties walked past his bench and smiled at him, slow and seductive. He winked in return and tried to focus on her backside as she continued on her way, swaying her hips gently. She was most definitely a ten. Roy tried to make a lecherous show of it for himself. He leaned forward in his seat slightly, tilted his head to the side and stared.

He began to play the scene in his head. The redhead turned around and settled herself on his lap. He could first feel her hot breath on his earlobe, then her tongue, then her teeth. She nipped and it stung and he was in heaven. Her hair drifted across his lips and it was the most erotic thing he had ever felt.

“Should have known you liked it rough, bastard,” that voice sneered in his ear.

He shook his head and opened his eyes, having resigned himself to giving up on the day and going home to get drunk. The vision of Fullmetal that was now standing in front of him was pissing him off. He didn’t need this aggravation right now. He pushed himself off the bench and tried to push the vision, but ran into something hard and solid.

“You taking a nap, bastard?” the very real Fullmetal drawled.

Roy frowned. This was not a good thing. “I was trying to before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the scenery around here can be rather distracting, can’t it?”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Is there some reason you are harassing me on my day off, Fullmetal?”

Edward stopped looking so amused with himself. “Yeah. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes called to tell me that you were acting weird and that I should talk to you. Any idea what that’s about?”

Roy raised his eyebrows. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. I assure you, I am fine.”

Edward snorted. “Don’t go thinking that I was actually worried or anything.”

But you came.

“No worries, Fullmetal. I would never dream of misinterpreting something you’ve done as ‘caring.’”

Edward frowned. “Hey, I care. Just not about you,” he said with a slight smirk.

Roy illogically found himself smiling. Had any of his other subordinates said that to him, he would have been outraged. But this was Fullmetal and this was comfortable. Roy caught himself by surprise when he realized how not horny he was feeling right then. Maybe it was just a fluke and he really had no untoward feelings for the boy.
“Can I invite you back to my place for a drink, Fullmetal? I just got a few new books in,” he offered as collateral.

Edward’s eyes perked up. “Which ones? The Strahan Journal?”

Roy nodded. “And a couple academic journals, too.”

“I’m in. But I’m not drinking anything you have. Hughes told me about what you were drinking last night.”

Roy smirked. “I wouldn’t expect your palate to be developed enough for such fine libations.”

****

When they had arrived at his house and settled next to each other on the couch, Roy found himself having a civilized conversation with Fullmetal, much to his own awe. The boy was half-tolerable when he wasn’t in what he must consider a threatening situation.

“I think where this Strahan guy is an idiot is where he gets talking about mineral recomposition. We don’t need anyone spreading that damned sodium myth again. Kids are gonna hurt themselves with that one,” Edward said in between gulps of green tea.

They had opened a window when they had come in and Roy found him transfixed with the way the wind made Edward’s hair tumble on his shoulder. It seemed the boy liked to leave it down on weekends. Roy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Not this again! Still not gay...

“Are you listening to me, bastard?”

“Hmm? I’m sorry, Fullmetal. I must have been distracted. More tea?”

Edward shook his head. “Now, don’t go getting the wrong idea, but are you really okay?”

“I’m fine, Fullmetal. Don’t be such a mother hen.”

Edward snorted. “Here I try to be nice.”

Roy frowned. Stupid manipulative brat. “If you must know, I’m having some personal issues right now. Things that are none of your business and none of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’, either.”

Edward shrugged. “Have it your way. It might just help if you loosened up a bit.”

“Oh, so you’re a shrink now as well as a State Alchemist?”

The blond rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want to talk, I’m going to head home. I have some errands to run and Al needs a hand with his research.”

Roy’s hand moved without his permission and wrapped around Edward’s wrist. “You don’t have to go. You haven’t finished looking through the books.”

Edward scrunched his eyebrows together. “You’re being weird, bastard. Do you want me to call Hughes? I wouldn’t mind ca- What the hell are you doing?”

Roy snapped him out of his trance. He had been, much to his disgust, staring into Edward’s eyes. He blinked twice and swallowed. He was out of control. This was ridiculous. It was just a stupid fantasy, it didn’t mean anything, he wasn’t gay...what other comforting things could he tell himself?

“Colonel? Roy? I’m going home now. Are you going to be okay?”

Roy opened his mouth to protest, but his mouth had other ideas. He pushed itself hungrily onto Edward’s. He had to know. He had to do it just this once and he’d know.

Edward’s eyes opened wide, though he didn’t push away. He opened his mouth a little, Roy wasn’t sure if the intention had been to yell or offer passage to Roy’s tongue, but the tongue was in regardless. When the older man started caressing the younger man’s tongue with his, Edward moaned and Roy knew.

This had been the problem all those years. He’d had many women, been fascinated by many of them and enjoyed their company. But he had rarely hungered like this. He had rarely felt the desire coiling in his toes for god’s sake! He had rarely felt his stomach flutter in that way that happened in slim romance novels with red covers. He had rarely felt a fist connect so solidly with his jawbone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the small blond banshee howled.

Roy blinked his eyes and rubbed at his jaw with the palm of his hand. That would leave a mark, come morning.

“Why the hell would you do that? Are you nuts?”

Roy had no answers. He hadn’t really planned this far ahead. He always planned ahead, but he hadn’t this time. It was stupid, he knew. He rubbed at his face some more.

“Would you mind getting me a cold compress out of the ice box, Fullmetal?”

“The hell I’m going to get anything for you! You, you k-kissed me and even if I-I wasn't pissed, it’s my fucking day off!”

Roy grimaced at the loud, shrill noises the boy was making. “Please? I’m begging you as a man, not as your commanding officer. Please? This fucking hurts.”

Edward sighed in a rather immature fashion and tossed up his hands. “Fine, bastard.”

“Thank you. It’s on the top shelf.”
He could hear the younger man grumbling in the kitchen. When the pain spiked to its sharpest, he was struck with the realization that Edward had been participating just as much in the kiss as Roy himself had been.

Edward sauntered back into the living room and handed Roy the compress with an uncharacteristic gentleness. He sat down on the couch next to the colonel, though not as close as he had been sitting before.

“Mind telling me what that was all about?”

Roy frowned. “I’d rather not and never speak of it again.”

Edward scoffed. “If you don’t talk to me about it, I’m sure that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes or Lieutenant Havoc would be more than happy to talk to me about it.”

Roy glared at the blond demon at his side. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Edward smirked. “No. But only because I’d be humiliated.”

Roy smirked back. This wasn’t so terrible.

“That was pretty damned conceited of you, you know that, right? To think I’d want to kiss you.”

Ah, this was better. Back to normal. Roy, however, could say nothing.

“You’re such a fucking bastard,” Edward said with a grin.

Roy’s eyes widened a bit, not at the comment from Fullmetal, but from the stirring between his legs.

“Too good to talk to me now, shit Colonel?”

Roy crossed his legs. This was strange. But it turned him on ridiculously. He frowned. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Edward didn’t kiss his ass like some other subordinates. But, he thought to himself, he liked it when people kissed his ass. But Edward dismissed him with such glee, it seemed that the young man realized that he was ignoring Roy’s power which, in its own way, was more of an acknowledgment of Roy’s power than any amount of saluting or pleasantries. Edward had to know what kind of authority he was dealing with to garner such joy from disrespecting it.

Then hot lips were on his own again and he fell backward onto the couch. His eyes were wide and were staring into the angry golden eyes an inch from his own. Edward grunted and pulled away.

“Do I have your attention now?”

Roy just touched his lips. He was acting like a fucking girl. He wasn’t just gay, but he was fucking infatuated.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Do you know how to shut up?”

“No. Do you like men?”

Roy gaped. “No.”

Edward frowned and raised his eyebrows. He looked so patronizing.

“At least, I didn’t until today.”

Edward nodded slowly. “And you just jumped at the first man to cross your path? Sounds just like you.”

Roy thought that perhaps he was crazy, but he could have sworn he’d sensed a hint of hurt in Edward’s voice.

“No, I didn’t.”

“So why me?”

Roy shrugged. “I’m not sure. But it wasn’t just random,” he hurried to finish because that pained look was back the blond man’s face.

“What should we do?”

Roy arched an eyebrow. “I would assume you will want to not speak of it again?”

Edward lowered his eyes. “What if that’s not what I want?”

Roy blinked. “Are you g-,” he caught himself, “are you like me?”

“No. I don’t think so. But neither did you, right? I don’t think it would be so bad to give it a try.”

Roy was speechless.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Roy shook his head. “No. Not at all. I’m just not so sure this is a great idea. I mean, work and our ages and you know we couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t treat me like a kid. I’ve already thought about all this.”

Roy smirked. Of course he had. That boy was always thinking. “If you think you can handle this, then we can try.”

Edward actually smiled; it was an expression Roy had seem so seldom. “Can I kiss you again?”

Roy smiled back. “Of course.”

Lips tangled in heat and wetness and hands roamed and they lied back on the couch, the blond on top with his flesh foot caressing the outside of Roy’s calf. Roy moaned.

This wasn’t what Roy had expected when he’d awaken on the glorious autumn Saturday, but that was okay. Roy was a lot of strong things, but no one could say that he didn’t bend. No one could say that he wasn’t malleable.

crossposted to fma_yaoi, 50_reactions, wicked_pistil