30 Kisses (PG-13): 1-15
Ed/Roy, 1,500 words.
Thirty things a kiss can mean.
1.
"I can't let you come with me."
He had expected a fight about that. They fought about everything else, after all. Of all the times for Ed to understand what he was saying between his words, he was glad it had happened now.
Instead of protesting, Edward had simply nodded, and Mustang realized with a pang that the boy he had spent years waiting to grow up finally had, and it was already too late.
The kiss was hard and fast, a rough press of lips that hinted at many things but in the end only really said one: goodbye.
2.
"Are you going to give me funding for this or not?" Fullmetal was already shooting him a death glare as he stomped impatiently up to Mustang's desk, ignoring the fact that the Fuhrer was obviously busy.
Nevertheless, the man calmly put down his pen. "As I recall, the last mission I approved funding for was hardly a rousing success."
"Since when has that mattered?"
"Since it almost got you killed," Mustang scowled.
Edward's irritated glower transformed into consideration. "I'll be careful."
When Mustang snorted, Ed leaned across the desk and kissed him gently, as much promise as he could make.
3.
One thing he had to admit about this …thing that they kept doing: it was never the same way twice. Hard and frenzied, hands ripping the cloth to tatters, or slow and teasing, and that look in Mustang's eyes. Ed still wasn't sure if it was rage or something else he saw in those moments, and he knew better than to ask.
There was a reason they never spoke.
When they lay together, sweaty and panting, their bodies still connected, Ed could feel Mustang's grief, as terrible and engulfing as his own. When he kissed him, he could taste it.
4.
When Edward woke up and saw who was sitting beside the bed he groaned aloud. "I told Hughes not to call you."
"He didn't," Roy barked. "Armstrong thought I might be interested in knowing that your latest escapade had landed you in the hospital with a broken leg." He wasn't shouting, but the suppressed fury in his voice was enough to make Ed flinch.
"I didn't want you to worry," he began. "I thought you'd try to stop me."
Roy lifted his undamaged hand up and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss on its palm. "What do you take me for?"
5.
Most things were exactly the same, and sometimes it was hard to remember he had been gone for two years. Al was whole now, and Ed tried to convince himself that it was all that mattered. That he didn't mind bearing the burden of their memories alone.
He spent a lot of time in Central, eager to lose himself in crowds. Every night he made his way to the one place he was always welcome, and Mustang's eyes were as haunted as his own. Eye, now. It felt right to pool their loneliness, desperate kisses trying to fill the void.
6.
Ed kicked off his boots in the hallway, smirking as they clattered loudly against the wall. He pulled the door shut with a barely muffled thud, shedding clothes as he stomped his way across the room.
The dark shape in bed never moved.
He yanked the blankets back, sliding between freezing sheets and turning resolutely to glare at the wall.
"I take it you're upset," the familiar voice drawled.
"You were flirting again!"
It was always the same. Ed waited for hesitant fingers to slide down his shoulder, followed by a warm mouth. Roy's apologies were always the same, too.
7.
Ed perched on the corner of the Colonel's desk, swinging his legs impatiently. Sometimes he would swear the man liked making him wait.
Finally the last form was signed, the last document tucked securely away. Ed didn't turn as he heard the squeak of a chair being pushed back.
"Took you long enough," he commented as Roy came to stand between his parted thighs. Ed tipped his head back for the familiar touch of lips, unsurprised when the kiss deepened until they broke apart, gasping. He had been away for weeks. Much too long for Roy's need, and his own.
8.
After two years, Ed expected some things to be different. Most things, actually. But Mustang… he never expected Mustang to change. To him, Roy loomed so large that nothing could touch him.
He traced his fingers along the eye patch gingerly, wondering exactly how much was different in the mind behind it. Roy scrutinized his expression as he pulled the entire thing off, no doubt waiting for Ed's disgust to show.
Ed had seen worse. Meeting the intent look in the good eye, he leaned forward and kissed a light path across the knotted tissue. When Roy blinked, Ed smiled.
9.
He was out of bed before five every day. The habit of military discipline kept him an early riser, even when there was nothing to get up for. The warm body splayed across the bed muttered shifted, sheets slipping down to give an excellent view of exactly what he was missing. There was nothing he'd rather do than spend the morning making Ed scream. Even so, a quick kiss and jump into the shower, enjoying the brief illusion that he could still control any of his impulses around Edward. Even if it meant he always had to take cold showers.
10.
Mustang didn't like men. Ed knew that; had always known that. He often wondered who it was, then, that Roy thought about when they had sex. It had to be a woman, and one with long hair, since Roy would always gently untangle his braid and run his fingers through it. Then he would kiss Ed slowly, his eyes tightly closed.
The sex itself was rushed, frantic. Afterward Mustang was always up and out the door as fast as he could go. Ed was left to lie there alone, staring up at the ceiling and smelling them all over himself.
11.
Mustang didn't like men, as a rule. In fact, he'd only ever been attracted to one. He never would have put himself in the position of being used for sex otherwise.
He'd bury his fingers in Ed's hair, trying to hold him there with Roy, to touch some part of him that wasn't about sex. He would close his eyes and kiss Ed, willing to pretend that Ed was kissing him, too. In the end it didn't change anything; he knew that. He always left quickly as soon as it was done, not wanting to prolong things. Ed never objected.
12.
The third time he had to go upstairs to find out what Roy wanted, Ed folded his arms and glared from the doorway. "If you don't stop ringing that bell I'm going to transmute it into a paperweight," he threatened.
"That figures," Roy sniffed. "I should've known I wouldn't get any sympathy from you."
"You have a cold, idiot. You'll live." Ed sat on the bed, carding a hand through damp black hair.
"No thanks to you." Roy's tone was mutinous, but his eyes closed at the touch.
He was nearly asleep when Ed kissed him gently on the forehead.
13.
The dream tended to start out differently, but the ending never varied. Sometimes he was fighting Bradley again, only this time Bradley was telling him something vitally important, and he always, always killed him before he understood what it was. Sometimes Hughes would appear, and he was the one shouting instructions that Roy could never manage to catch. Then he was there, reaching to catch Roy's hand, pulling him close. He'd hold tight to the smaller frame, kissing him reluctantly, already feeling him start to disintegrate in his arms. Knowing there was nothing he could ever do to change it.
14.
Ed had never been a morning person. He fought to stay asleep, and anyone who dared to wake him before he was ready had to face his wrath full-force.
There was nothing Roy liked better than solving problems. Even first thing in the morning.
He'd being by alternating hot and cold breath along Ed's thighs, following with the lightest touch. Flicking his tongue over waking flesh, his fingers would ply Ed, creating waves of pleasure that Ed rode, gasping, until he'd pull Roy up for a hard kiss, their bodies moving together with ease.
Ed began looking forward to mornings.
15.
"I don't believe it." Clara's tone was clipped.
Edith sighed, glancing down the row of typing women. "She just sounded so sure."
"It's obviously not true. Remember when everyone said he'd gotten that Corporal pregnant?" Clara snorted, her fingers flying across the keys.
Edith nodded, cringing.
"This will be just like that."
"They are always together," Edith pointed out. "He stays at the Colonel's house."
Clara pursed her lips. "What did she say she saw?"
"She said they were kissing."
Clara burst out laughing. "You know that's not true."
Edith shrugged. "She said they looked like they were enjoying it."
Part II (16-30) found here.
Thirty things a kiss can mean.
1.
"I can't let you come with me."
He had expected a fight about that. They fought about everything else, after all. Of all the times for Ed to understand what he was saying between his words, he was glad it had happened now.
Instead of protesting, Edward had simply nodded, and Mustang realized with a pang that the boy he had spent years waiting to grow up finally had, and it was already too late.
The kiss was hard and fast, a rough press of lips that hinted at many things but in the end only really said one: goodbye.
2.
"Are you going to give me funding for this or not?" Fullmetal was already shooting him a death glare as he stomped impatiently up to Mustang's desk, ignoring the fact that the Fuhrer was obviously busy.
Nevertheless, the man calmly put down his pen. "As I recall, the last mission I approved funding for was hardly a rousing success."
"Since when has that mattered?"
"Since it almost got you killed," Mustang scowled.
Edward's irritated glower transformed into consideration. "I'll be careful."
When Mustang snorted, Ed leaned across the desk and kissed him gently, as much promise as he could make.
3.
One thing he had to admit about this …thing that they kept doing: it was never the same way twice. Hard and frenzied, hands ripping the cloth to tatters, or slow and teasing, and that look in Mustang's eyes. Ed still wasn't sure if it was rage or something else he saw in those moments, and he knew better than to ask.
There was a reason they never spoke.
When they lay together, sweaty and panting, their bodies still connected, Ed could feel Mustang's grief, as terrible and engulfing as his own. When he kissed him, he could taste it.
4.
When Edward woke up and saw who was sitting beside the bed he groaned aloud. "I told Hughes not to call you."
"He didn't," Roy barked. "Armstrong thought I might be interested in knowing that your latest escapade had landed you in the hospital with a broken leg." He wasn't shouting, but the suppressed fury in his voice was enough to make Ed flinch.
"I didn't want you to worry," he began. "I thought you'd try to stop me."
Roy lifted his undamaged hand up and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss on its palm. "What do you take me for?"
5.
Most things were exactly the same, and sometimes it was hard to remember he had been gone for two years. Al was whole now, and Ed tried to convince himself that it was all that mattered. That he didn't mind bearing the burden of their memories alone.
He spent a lot of time in Central, eager to lose himself in crowds. Every night he made his way to the one place he was always welcome, and Mustang's eyes were as haunted as his own. Eye, now. It felt right to pool their loneliness, desperate kisses trying to fill the void.
6.
Ed kicked off his boots in the hallway, smirking as they clattered loudly against the wall. He pulled the door shut with a barely muffled thud, shedding clothes as he stomped his way across the room.
The dark shape in bed never moved.
He yanked the blankets back, sliding between freezing sheets and turning resolutely to glare at the wall.
"I take it you're upset," the familiar voice drawled.
"You were flirting again!"
It was always the same. Ed waited for hesitant fingers to slide down his shoulder, followed by a warm mouth. Roy's apologies were always the same, too.
7.
Ed perched on the corner of the Colonel's desk, swinging his legs impatiently. Sometimes he would swear the man liked making him wait.
Finally the last form was signed, the last document tucked securely away. Ed didn't turn as he heard the squeak of a chair being pushed back.
"Took you long enough," he commented as Roy came to stand between his parted thighs. Ed tipped his head back for the familiar touch of lips, unsurprised when the kiss deepened until they broke apart, gasping. He had been away for weeks. Much too long for Roy's need, and his own.
8.
After two years, Ed expected some things to be different. Most things, actually. But Mustang… he never expected Mustang to change. To him, Roy loomed so large that nothing could touch him.
He traced his fingers along the eye patch gingerly, wondering exactly how much was different in the mind behind it. Roy scrutinized his expression as he pulled the entire thing off, no doubt waiting for Ed's disgust to show.
Ed had seen worse. Meeting the intent look in the good eye, he leaned forward and kissed a light path across the knotted tissue. When Roy blinked, Ed smiled.
9.
He was out of bed before five every day. The habit of military discipline kept him an early riser, even when there was nothing to get up for. The warm body splayed across the bed muttered shifted, sheets slipping down to give an excellent view of exactly what he was missing. There was nothing he'd rather do than spend the morning making Ed scream. Even so, a quick kiss and jump into the shower, enjoying the brief illusion that he could still control any of his impulses around Edward. Even if it meant he always had to take cold showers.
10.
Mustang didn't like men. Ed knew that; had always known that. He often wondered who it was, then, that Roy thought about when they had sex. It had to be a woman, and one with long hair, since Roy would always gently untangle his braid and run his fingers through it. Then he would kiss Ed slowly, his eyes tightly closed.
The sex itself was rushed, frantic. Afterward Mustang was always up and out the door as fast as he could go. Ed was left to lie there alone, staring up at the ceiling and smelling them all over himself.
11.
Mustang didn't like men, as a rule. In fact, he'd only ever been attracted to one. He never would have put himself in the position of being used for sex otherwise.
He'd bury his fingers in Ed's hair, trying to hold him there with Roy, to touch some part of him that wasn't about sex. He would close his eyes and kiss Ed, willing to pretend that Ed was kissing him, too. In the end it didn't change anything; he knew that. He always left quickly as soon as it was done, not wanting to prolong things. Ed never objected.
12.
The third time he had to go upstairs to find out what Roy wanted, Ed folded his arms and glared from the doorway. "If you don't stop ringing that bell I'm going to transmute it into a paperweight," he threatened.
"That figures," Roy sniffed. "I should've known I wouldn't get any sympathy from you."
"You have a cold, idiot. You'll live." Ed sat on the bed, carding a hand through damp black hair.
"No thanks to you." Roy's tone was mutinous, but his eyes closed at the touch.
He was nearly asleep when Ed kissed him gently on the forehead.
13.
The dream tended to start out differently, but the ending never varied. Sometimes he was fighting Bradley again, only this time Bradley was telling him something vitally important, and he always, always killed him before he understood what it was. Sometimes Hughes would appear, and he was the one shouting instructions that Roy could never manage to catch. Then he was there, reaching to catch Roy's hand, pulling him close. He'd hold tight to the smaller frame, kissing him reluctantly, already feeling him start to disintegrate in his arms. Knowing there was nothing he could ever do to change it.
14.
Ed had never been a morning person. He fought to stay asleep, and anyone who dared to wake him before he was ready had to face his wrath full-force.
There was nothing Roy liked better than solving problems. Even first thing in the morning.
He'd being by alternating hot and cold breath along Ed's thighs, following with the lightest touch. Flicking his tongue over waking flesh, his fingers would ply Ed, creating waves of pleasure that Ed rode, gasping, until he'd pull Roy up for a hard kiss, their bodies moving together with ease.
Ed began looking forward to mornings.
15.
"I don't believe it." Clara's tone was clipped.
Edith sighed, glancing down the row of typing women. "She just sounded so sure."
"It's obviously not true. Remember when everyone said he'd gotten that Corporal pregnant?" Clara snorted, her fingers flying across the keys.
Edith nodded, cringing.
"This will be just like that."
"They are always together," Edith pointed out. "He stays at the Colonel's house."
Clara pursed her lips. "What did she say she saw?"
"She said they were kissing."
Clara burst out laughing. "You know that's not true."
Edith shrugged. "She said they looked like they were enjoying it."
Part II (16-30) found here.