Fic: Principled Negotiation
Setting: Fullmetal Alchemist - vaguely mangaverse and post-series in my head, but I don't think that really affects the plot, or rather 'plot'
Characters/pairings: Roy/Ed
Warnings: NC-17 for rude behaviour under a desk.
Word count: 2461
Summary: Written for kinkmeme 2.0., prompt was "Roy attempts to finish a report, but Ed has other ideas and crawls under his desk to 'distract' him. Hilarity ensues." A complex, demanding and multi-layered plot to manage, to be sure, but I tried my best.
Notes: If you're reading No Small Injury and jiggling your foot at all the endless Roy/Ed UST ... have a present. After broaching "sexual tension while fighting", "h/c except Ed is vastly unsympathetic" and "library flirtation", I am proud to add "office sex" to my imaginary Roy/Ed cliche bingo card. Original prompt was inspired by a very artistic bit of doujin fanart, which I have reproduced below. IT IS NOT BY ME, I only wish I could draw that pretty. It's also (pretty tame but still) NOT WORK SAFE. Know where it's from? Who it's by? Is there, good gosh, a whole doujin's worth of this thing? Inquiring minds, etc. ETA: it's apparently by the doujinshi circle Avant-Garde - thanks for the catch, cryogenia!
"Busy," said Roy.
"Busy?" said Ed. He wandered over to Roy's desk, flipped through the top few documents in the in-tray, and then leaned in to look at Roy's report from upside down, close enough that their heads almost touched.
"Fullmetal," said Roy. "Office."
"So?" said Ed, and gestured around the completely empty office, the red-gold early evening sunlight, the long shadows falling across the room. "It's Friday. Friday night." He hopped his butt up on the side of the desk. "Why are you being so nice to your minions anyway? I thought the idea was that they stay all night and do all your shitwork, and you clock off at five and go on a date." Then he added, "And by 'go on a date', I mean 'fuck me', and I also mean 'and after, we can head to that awesome Aerugan place I keep telling you about, and stuff our faces with meatballs in tomato sauce.'"
"Fullmetal. If you ever get to the stage of having minions, you'll find out that if you don't throw them a bone once in a while, they'll rebel." Roy grinned wolfishly.
"I'm a minion too. What if I get tired of being without a bone, and I rebel? Human weapon here. I could totally be a one-man revolution." Ed was sitting on the desk now, legs crossed, leaning right over Roy's report.
Roy whipped it from out of his reach and waved it at him. "134 pages. 134 very dull pages which I have to know inside out for tomorrow's meeting so I can run rings around my opponents and make it look effortless, and make them look like nervous losers so I can steal the rest of the brass's support and be Fuhrer by next year. And then I get an even nicer chair. And democracy."
"I'm on board with democracy," said Ed, leaning his head forward. "There are two of us in this room, which I'm gonna call quorate, and you voted read report and I voted sex, then meatballs, which seems like pretty much a hung parliament to me. So, what do we do?"
"Were you listening to a word I just said? This is actually an important-"
"You've already read the report, Mustang. You already know it inside out. This is just you obsessing, which, you know, of course, you're an alchemist. Isn't it awesome that you managed to score with someone who is not only a hot, genius alchemist who's way younger and more flexible and really kind of out of your league "- Ed paused, trying to recall what he'd been saying -"but totally gets all your weird shit like needing to read reports seventeen times and cover them in red pen and little bookmark stickies, and then makes you stop and takes you off for sex and then meatballs?"
"I've really done well for myself," said Roy dryly. "Get off my desk."
Ed hopped off his desk. Only forwards, not back. His feet hit the floor right in front of Roy's chair. He grabbed the armrests, pulled it right up to him and leaned in. "So," he said. "Split vote. How about you get to read through the report once, and I mean once, and then we hit the Aerugan restaurant?"
Roy narrowed his eyes. "What about the sex part?"
Ed tried to look noble, but failed. "I'm prepared to make sacrifices for the greater good." Then he dropped smoothly to his knees, hands still gripping the armrest of the chair, and leant backwards. Roy's chair slid right up to the edge of the desk. He could feel Ed's forearms resting on his thighs, his legs drawn up and knocking against Roy's in the little space.
Roy said, halfheartedly, "Stop it."
"Get on with your stupid report," said Ed, muffled under the desk. Then - of course - he went for Roy's zipper.
Roy got on with his stupid report. Or rather, he made a valiant attempt to at least look like he was getting on with it. This was a very unfair manoeuvre on Ed's part, he thought vaguely, as Ed rummaged around in his uniform pants, feeling for the opening of his boxers. Edward knew him too well, these days, and that knowledge unfortunately included the fact that two of his turn-ons were surreptitious public sex, and sex when he was doing or ought to be doing something else (telephone negotations with important generals, form-filling, packing for a trip, laundry). Yes, unfortunately.
He flipped to a new page. He should at least make a decent effort to look at this thing: besides the fact that he genuinely needed to check he had this down, and if he didn't do it now, he might have to, God help him, get up an hour early, he wasn't going to make this too easy a victory for Edward. Give him an inch, and he'd take - well.
Ed had found his cock. He was good like that. He poked it out of the front of Roy's boxers, then through the front of his uniform pants. Then he propped his elbows up on Roy's thighs, he held it gently with the fingertips of both hands, like it was some kind of musical instrument, and blew a puff of warm, close breath on the tip. Roy twitched, and felt a good quantity of his brain's blood supply abruptly down tools and rush south. He leant back in the chair until he could just about see Edward's blond head in his lap. The slight thrill and oddity that this was Fullmetal, damn it, had never quite vanished, but it was especially powerful here in his office, where they addressed each other by rank and title, smug commanding officer and rebellious subordinate. Edward looked up at him, and his face slowly split into his fighting grin. Roy would lay money on the fact that he was thinking pretty much the same thing.
And on that thought, Ed took the tip of his cock neatly into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the head and started working the sensitive spot just underneath it. It was a good job that Roy was such a fast reader. Manfully, he attempted to get on with it.
The report was stupid, actually, Roy thought as he read the same sentence for a third time. It had been written by a long-winded idiot who should have been able to express himself more logically in a third of the space. And then there were the typos. And misused apostrophes, which Roy was definitely going to draft some kind of law about once he was in power. Not to mention the dangling participles, and - ah. Edward really was very good at this, far better to be honest than Roy had been at the same age. But then, prodigy. Roy liked to think that he led by example and had taught Edward everything he knew about the art and science of giving head, but he was starting to speculate that, on the long years of his quest, Ed had somehow found time for extracurricular activities. That gentle, alarming grazing thing he was doing with the edges of his teeth, for instance, Edward definitely hadn't picked that up from Roy, and while it made him nervous as hell, it also felt very, very good. Turning another page of the report blindly, Roy wondered where Ed had learnt that little trick. Frankly, he had his suspicions.
Ed's mouth suddenly went away, and his head popped up from under the desk. Edward folded his arms in Roy's lap and looked at him with a stubborn, pouty frown, the expression Edward seemed to think of as 'manly determination', but which actually made him look like a stroppy nine year old. Roy would never tell, because then he might stop doing it, and it was hilarious.
"You can stop pretending to read that report any time." Edward reached behind him and swatted the report vindictively with his automail hand.
Roy whisked the paper out of the way, and held it above his head with both hands. "I am reading it, actually. I'm very good at multitasking, it comes of plotting a coup in my spare time."
"Hey!" A knock on Roy's chest, but with Ed's left hand, to show he wasn't that annoyed yet. "I'm generously catering to several of your kinks at once, here. Procrastination by blowjob in a semi-public place. You need to thank me by being distracted. And also paying for dinner after."
"If you want me to do that, you need to really distract me." Roy tried to pack as much irritating smugness into his tone as possible. If he was going to have to lose an argument and get up early the next morning, he definitely had to goad Ed into a particularly fine performance.
"I have mad skills and you know it," said Ed, with great dignity. Then he ducked his head down again, pulled Roy's chair forward, and got back to business. He reached his free hand, the automail one, into Roy's pants. Roy's manly parts did not trust the automail. They had considered it to be bad news ever since they discovered that its joints could pinch like fuck. Ed stroked the cool tips of two fingers over Roy's balls from underneath. Roy's thigh muscles tensed up. Edward was definitely doing this to mess with him, he'd suspected it with the teeth thing but this was clear confirmation. That did it, later he was going to have to pin him down and do things to him, then they'd see who got the prize for unnerving sexual technique that was too hot to say no to.
Edward picked up the pace a little. Roy breathed a little harder, and put a hand to the edge of the desk. His self-control was starting to crack a little, and as usual, they were both rather getting off on it. Ed paused teasingly for a moment, the little shit, Roy groaned in aggravation, then Ed rewarded him by starting back up, stiffening his tongue and working him a bit more roughly. The papers in Roy's right hand crumpled a little from the death-grip he had them in -
And there was a knock at the door. Oh, fuck.
Ed carried right on. Had he even noticed? Was he evil enough to do this deliberately?
The door started to swing open, before whoever it was waited for a response. Roy tapped Ed on the head - carefully, he really didn't want to startle him right now - and then - there really wasn't any more time - rolled his chair forward on its castors, as gently as he could. Ed gagged, and punched Roy on the thigh just hard enough to hurt. It seemed fair enough that he did it with his right hand. Roy covered up the noises by coughing into his hand, which looked stupidly theatrical. He hoped whoever was coming in the door wasn't too observant.
Ah, it was Hawkeye. Crap.
She smiled at him. "Sorry to intrude." Intrude? What did that mean? Then he realised that Edward really hadn't noticed that someone had knocked, because he felt the muscles of Ed's left arm tense up in shock. And also his left hand. Which was still wrapped around Roy's cock. Which was bad. Bad, Ed. Roy sucked in a breath, and blinked, and winced and massaged his temples. This would hopefully give the appearance of a nasty tension headache, brought on by hard work and definitely in no way by surreptitious office sex.
Hawkeye blithely ignored the whole performance. Not for the first time, Roy wondered whether the advantages of having a second-in-command who'd known you since you were sixteen outweighed the disadvantages. He really wished Ed would move his mouth, though. He had stopped moving, and was just holding the head of Roy's cock quietly in his mouth. It was still distracting. Inconsiderate, or deliberate? Ed's tongue flicked once over the little 'v' under the head. Roy twitched. Okay, definitely deliberate. Just you wait, you little fucker.
"Just picking up a couple of things I forgot." Hawkeye moved over to her desk, but instead of paperwork, she pulled from the drawers a little umbrella, a thin, shiny scarf, and of all things, a lipstick. Was she going on a date? With persons unknown? Well, good for her. For a moment - in a tribute to the power of their friendship which he would never be telling her about - Roy forgot his supremely awkward position and did a quick approval rating of possible candidates among the office newbies. Brosch, unlikely, she'd eat him alive; Charlie, the dirty dog, Roy would knock him down if he wasn't decent to her, although she'd probably do it first; Maria Ross, nice girl and do you know, he wouldn't put it past her; Miles, dark horse candidate, he would have to reserve judgement.
"Still reading that report?" Hawkeye's expression was mild and unreadable, which was his thing, goddamn it. And while it was flattering that she'd stolen his act, it was annoying that she was probably better at it. Roy shrugged, and tried to look hard done by, but he kept his mouth shut. He couldn't trust himself to say anything right now without it emerging from his mouth as a strangled, high-pitched dead giveaway.
"Perhaps it might be more efficient if you just got up early tomorrow and refreshed your mind then? I mean, I'm sure you can't really be taking it in at the moment." She paused, cruelly. "After a long day at work."
Did she know? How could she tell? Or was Roy imagining the whole thing? Damn it, this was exactly why he'd had to stop playing poker with her.
"Oh, and if you happen to bump into Edward, please tell him he's late with the forms for his yearly assessment." Shit. She definitely knew. She picked the forms in question out of Ed's pigeonhole by the door, and for a terrible moment, Roy thought she was going to make him walk over and get them. After a beat, she popped the forms back, held her hand up in a little wave, and said, "Have a good evening, sir."
Roy waved at her sullenly as she walked out and shut the door behind her.
Ed freed his mouth for a moment, and said, openly awed, "That was evil. Hey, why isn't she in charge instead of you?"
For a moment, Roy had a great comeback to that on the tip of his tongue, but then it dissolved, and the only thing on his mind was Edward's hands and tongue and the delicious, wet heat of his mouth.
Vaguely, he stared at the report. Ah. That's how she'd busted him. He was holding it upside down.
***
And yeah, here's the art that inspired the prompt, unless it proves too hot for Photobucket.
Characters/pairings: Roy/Ed
Warnings: NC-17 for rude behaviour under a desk.
Word count: 2461
Summary: Written for kinkmeme 2.0., prompt was "Roy attempts to finish a report, but Ed has other ideas and crawls under his desk to 'distract' him. Hilarity ensues." A complex, demanding and multi-layered plot to manage, to be sure, but I tried my best.
Notes: If you're reading No Small Injury and jiggling your foot at all the endless Roy/Ed UST ... have a present. After broaching "sexual tension while fighting", "h/c except Ed is vastly unsympathetic" and "library flirtation", I am proud to add "office sex" to my imaginary Roy/Ed cliche bingo card. Original prompt was inspired by a very artistic bit of doujin fanart, which I have reproduced below. IT IS NOT BY ME, I only wish I could draw that pretty. It's also (pretty tame but still) NOT WORK SAFE. Know where it's from? Who it's by? Is there, good gosh, a whole doujin's worth of this thing? Inquiring minds, etc. ETA: it's apparently by the doujinshi circle Avant-Garde - thanks for the catch, cryogenia!
"Busy," said Roy.
"Busy?" said Ed. He wandered over to Roy's desk, flipped through the top few documents in the in-tray, and then leaned in to look at Roy's report from upside down, close enough that their heads almost touched.
"Fullmetal," said Roy. "Office."
"So?" said Ed, and gestured around the completely empty office, the red-gold early evening sunlight, the long shadows falling across the room. "It's Friday. Friday night." He hopped his butt up on the side of the desk. "Why are you being so nice to your minions anyway? I thought the idea was that they stay all night and do all your shitwork, and you clock off at five and go on a date." Then he added, "And by 'go on a date', I mean 'fuck me', and I also mean 'and after, we can head to that awesome Aerugan place I keep telling you about, and stuff our faces with meatballs in tomato sauce.'"
"Fullmetal. If you ever get to the stage of having minions, you'll find out that if you don't throw them a bone once in a while, they'll rebel." Roy grinned wolfishly.
"I'm a minion too. What if I get tired of being without a bone, and I rebel? Human weapon here. I could totally be a one-man revolution." Ed was sitting on the desk now, legs crossed, leaning right over Roy's report.
Roy whipped it from out of his reach and waved it at him. "134 pages. 134 very dull pages which I have to know inside out for tomorrow's meeting so I can run rings around my opponents and make it look effortless, and make them look like nervous losers so I can steal the rest of the brass's support and be Fuhrer by next year. And then I get an even nicer chair. And democracy."
"I'm on board with democracy," said Ed, leaning his head forward. "There are two of us in this room, which I'm gonna call quorate, and you voted read report and I voted sex, then meatballs, which seems like pretty much a hung parliament to me. So, what do we do?"
"Were you listening to a word I just said? This is actually an important-"
"You've already read the report, Mustang. You already know it inside out. This is just you obsessing, which, you know, of course, you're an alchemist. Isn't it awesome that you managed to score with someone who is not only a hot, genius alchemist who's way younger and more flexible and really kind of out of your league "- Ed paused, trying to recall what he'd been saying -"but totally gets all your weird shit like needing to read reports seventeen times and cover them in red pen and little bookmark stickies, and then makes you stop and takes you off for sex and then meatballs?"
"I've really done well for myself," said Roy dryly. "Get off my desk."
Ed hopped off his desk. Only forwards, not back. His feet hit the floor right in front of Roy's chair. He grabbed the armrests, pulled it right up to him and leaned in. "So," he said. "Split vote. How about you get to read through the report once, and I mean once, and then we hit the Aerugan restaurant?"
Roy narrowed his eyes. "What about the sex part?"
Ed tried to look noble, but failed. "I'm prepared to make sacrifices for the greater good." Then he dropped smoothly to his knees, hands still gripping the armrest of the chair, and leant backwards. Roy's chair slid right up to the edge of the desk. He could feel Ed's forearms resting on his thighs, his legs drawn up and knocking against Roy's in the little space.
Roy said, halfheartedly, "Stop it."
"Get on with your stupid report," said Ed, muffled under the desk. Then - of course - he went for Roy's zipper.
Roy got on with his stupid report. Or rather, he made a valiant attempt to at least look like he was getting on with it. This was a very unfair manoeuvre on Ed's part, he thought vaguely, as Ed rummaged around in his uniform pants, feeling for the opening of his boxers. Edward knew him too well, these days, and that knowledge unfortunately included the fact that two of his turn-ons were surreptitious public sex, and sex when he was doing or ought to be doing something else (telephone negotations with important generals, form-filling, packing for a trip, laundry). Yes, unfortunately.
He flipped to a new page. He should at least make a decent effort to look at this thing: besides the fact that he genuinely needed to check he had this down, and if he didn't do it now, he might have to, God help him, get up an hour early, he wasn't going to make this too easy a victory for Edward. Give him an inch, and he'd take - well.
Ed had found his cock. He was good like that. He poked it out of the front of Roy's boxers, then through the front of his uniform pants. Then he propped his elbows up on Roy's thighs, he held it gently with the fingertips of both hands, like it was some kind of musical instrument, and blew a puff of warm, close breath on the tip. Roy twitched, and felt a good quantity of his brain's blood supply abruptly down tools and rush south. He leant back in the chair until he could just about see Edward's blond head in his lap. The slight thrill and oddity that this was Fullmetal, damn it, had never quite vanished, but it was especially powerful here in his office, where they addressed each other by rank and title, smug commanding officer and rebellious subordinate. Edward looked up at him, and his face slowly split into his fighting grin. Roy would lay money on the fact that he was thinking pretty much the same thing.
And on that thought, Ed took the tip of his cock neatly into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the head and started working the sensitive spot just underneath it. It was a good job that Roy was such a fast reader. Manfully, he attempted to get on with it.
The report was stupid, actually, Roy thought as he read the same sentence for a third time. It had been written by a long-winded idiot who should have been able to express himself more logically in a third of the space. And then there were the typos. And misused apostrophes, which Roy was definitely going to draft some kind of law about once he was in power. Not to mention the dangling participles, and - ah. Edward really was very good at this, far better to be honest than Roy had been at the same age. But then, prodigy. Roy liked to think that he led by example and had taught Edward everything he knew about the art and science of giving head, but he was starting to speculate that, on the long years of his quest, Ed had somehow found time for extracurricular activities. That gentle, alarming grazing thing he was doing with the edges of his teeth, for instance, Edward definitely hadn't picked that up from Roy, and while it made him nervous as hell, it also felt very, very good. Turning another page of the report blindly, Roy wondered where Ed had learnt that little trick. Frankly, he had his suspicions.
Ed's mouth suddenly went away, and his head popped up from under the desk. Edward folded his arms in Roy's lap and looked at him with a stubborn, pouty frown, the expression Edward seemed to think of as 'manly determination', but which actually made him look like a stroppy nine year old. Roy would never tell, because then he might stop doing it, and it was hilarious.
"You can stop pretending to read that report any time." Edward reached behind him and swatted the report vindictively with his automail hand.
Roy whisked the paper out of the way, and held it above his head with both hands. "I am reading it, actually. I'm very good at multitasking, it comes of plotting a coup in my spare time."
"Hey!" A knock on Roy's chest, but with Ed's left hand, to show he wasn't that annoyed yet. "I'm generously catering to several of your kinks at once, here. Procrastination by blowjob in a semi-public place. You need to thank me by being distracted. And also paying for dinner after."
"If you want me to do that, you need to really distract me." Roy tried to pack as much irritating smugness into his tone as possible. If he was going to have to lose an argument and get up early the next morning, he definitely had to goad Ed into a particularly fine performance.
"I have mad skills and you know it," said Ed, with great dignity. Then he ducked his head down again, pulled Roy's chair forward, and got back to business. He reached his free hand, the automail one, into Roy's pants. Roy's manly parts did not trust the automail. They had considered it to be bad news ever since they discovered that its joints could pinch like fuck. Ed stroked the cool tips of two fingers over Roy's balls from underneath. Roy's thigh muscles tensed up. Edward was definitely doing this to mess with him, he'd suspected it with the teeth thing but this was clear confirmation. That did it, later he was going to have to pin him down and do things to him, then they'd see who got the prize for unnerving sexual technique that was too hot to say no to.
Edward picked up the pace a little. Roy breathed a little harder, and put a hand to the edge of the desk. His self-control was starting to crack a little, and as usual, they were both rather getting off on it. Ed paused teasingly for a moment, the little shit, Roy groaned in aggravation, then Ed rewarded him by starting back up, stiffening his tongue and working him a bit more roughly. The papers in Roy's right hand crumpled a little from the death-grip he had them in -
And there was a knock at the door. Oh, fuck.
Ed carried right on. Had he even noticed? Was he evil enough to do this deliberately?
The door started to swing open, before whoever it was waited for a response. Roy tapped Ed on the head - carefully, he really didn't want to startle him right now - and then - there really wasn't any more time - rolled his chair forward on its castors, as gently as he could. Ed gagged, and punched Roy on the thigh just hard enough to hurt. It seemed fair enough that he did it with his right hand. Roy covered up the noises by coughing into his hand, which looked stupidly theatrical. He hoped whoever was coming in the door wasn't too observant.
Ah, it was Hawkeye. Crap.
She smiled at him. "Sorry to intrude." Intrude? What did that mean? Then he realised that Edward really hadn't noticed that someone had knocked, because he felt the muscles of Ed's left arm tense up in shock. And also his left hand. Which was still wrapped around Roy's cock. Which was bad. Bad, Ed. Roy sucked in a breath, and blinked, and winced and massaged his temples. This would hopefully give the appearance of a nasty tension headache, brought on by hard work and definitely in no way by surreptitious office sex.
Hawkeye blithely ignored the whole performance. Not for the first time, Roy wondered whether the advantages of having a second-in-command who'd known you since you were sixteen outweighed the disadvantages. He really wished Ed would move his mouth, though. He had stopped moving, and was just holding the head of Roy's cock quietly in his mouth. It was still distracting. Inconsiderate, or deliberate? Ed's tongue flicked once over the little 'v' under the head. Roy twitched. Okay, definitely deliberate. Just you wait, you little fucker.
"Just picking up a couple of things I forgot." Hawkeye moved over to her desk, but instead of paperwork, she pulled from the drawers a little umbrella, a thin, shiny scarf, and of all things, a lipstick. Was she going on a date? With persons unknown? Well, good for her. For a moment - in a tribute to the power of their friendship which he would never be telling her about - Roy forgot his supremely awkward position and did a quick approval rating of possible candidates among the office newbies. Brosch, unlikely, she'd eat him alive; Charlie, the dirty dog, Roy would knock him down if he wasn't decent to her, although she'd probably do it first; Maria Ross, nice girl and do you know, he wouldn't put it past her; Miles, dark horse candidate, he would have to reserve judgement.
"Still reading that report?" Hawkeye's expression was mild and unreadable, which was his thing, goddamn it. And while it was flattering that she'd stolen his act, it was annoying that she was probably better at it. Roy shrugged, and tried to look hard done by, but he kept his mouth shut. He couldn't trust himself to say anything right now without it emerging from his mouth as a strangled, high-pitched dead giveaway.
"Perhaps it might be more efficient if you just got up early tomorrow and refreshed your mind then? I mean, I'm sure you can't really be taking it in at the moment." She paused, cruelly. "After a long day at work."
Did she know? How could she tell? Or was Roy imagining the whole thing? Damn it, this was exactly why he'd had to stop playing poker with her.
"Oh, and if you happen to bump into Edward, please tell him he's late with the forms for his yearly assessment." Shit. She definitely knew. She picked the forms in question out of Ed's pigeonhole by the door, and for a terrible moment, Roy thought she was going to make him walk over and get them. After a beat, she popped the forms back, held her hand up in a little wave, and said, "Have a good evening, sir."
Roy waved at her sullenly as she walked out and shut the door behind her.
Ed freed his mouth for a moment, and said, openly awed, "That was evil. Hey, why isn't she in charge instead of you?"
For a moment, Roy had a great comeback to that on the tip of his tongue, but then it dissolved, and the only thing on his mind was Edward's hands and tongue and the delicious, wet heat of his mouth.
Vaguely, he stared at the report. Ah. That's how she'd busted him. He was holding it upside down.
***
And yeah, here's the art that inspired the prompt, unless it proves too hot for Photobucket.