This is so very very old
For the sake of completedness, I'm posting up an ancient (meaning 1 year old) fic of mine. One of the first fanfic's I ever wrote.
TITLE: Uncomfortable
PAIRING: Gen, maybe a wee bit of implied Roy/Ed
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: None.
A/N: This was written after seeing what, maybe 7 or 8 episodes of FMA? It was REALLY early in, and it was before I felt comfortable about writing pairings AT ALL, much less Yaoi ones. Yes I used to be the kind who blushed at the mere thought of guy x guy pairings. Really. I could hardly even READ about guys KISSING at this point. My first smut fic was literally weeks in the future. I believe this was the SECOND fic I ever wrote (discounting the one when I was 13 and the one in the Highlander Fandom that I'd rather not remember).
So keep this in mind, because my writing has improved a lot over the last year, not to mention my level of squeemishness. Come to think of it, actually the amount of change in me in the last year has been kind of astonishing.
"Um. Here. My report," said Ed, handing Hawkeye a manila folder. "And this." He handed a small leather book. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at the unusually nervous 15 year old. "That should be everything. Tell Mustang I'm off to, um, check on a lead. Bye."
And he turned with a swish of his red coat and was half way out the door before Hawkeye could call out. "Hold on, there!"
But Ed was gone. Hawkeye sighed and gathered the report and book up to put on Mustangs desk.
Fifteen minutes later Mustang called out from his office "I want to see Fullmetal as soon as possible!"
Hawkeye sighed. Should have seen that coming.
Ed entered their dorm room and closed the door firmly behind him. "We gotta get out of town now."
"What do you want to do with this?" Al said holding up a belly dancers costume, all filmy scarves and sequins.
"I don't know. I better destroy it."
"But it isn't ours… you stole it. It looks expensive. Shouldn't we give it back?"
Damn Al for having a conscious. "Ok, toss it in the suitcase, we'll mail it back from Winry's." Ed scrambled to organize his notes and find the various small personal things he'd need.
There was a knock at their door. Ed froze his eyes open wide.
"Let me in, young Elric," came a loud reverberant voice. "Colonel Mustang has asked me to escort you to his office, to follow up on your report."
"Tell him I'm not here," whispered Ed.
"Uh. Brother isn't here right now!" Al called through the door. "He's um… in the bathroom."
"Ah, thank you."
"In the bathroom?" said Ed. That will take Armstrong all of 30 seconds to check. "Why didn't you say the mess? Or the library." Ed ran to the window and looked down. It was bright daylight, and the quad was swarming with uniforms.
"Sorry, brother."
"Never mind. You gotta hide me."
"How?"
Armstrong returned to the door in 30 seconds. He paused, hearing an odd clattering behind the door. "Alphonse Elric, Open the door. Now." He mustered his presence and sent it out like a shimmering wave, confident that the younger brother would crumble to his will.
"Uh…" came the young voice. "Uh, just a moment. I'm coming."
Al opened the door. He seemed curiously stooped and humbled. Armstrong felt a moment of regret. He really shouldn't over use his commanding aura. It had an unfortunate tendency to terrify those around him.
Armstrong walked in and called out, "Come out Edward, I know you are in here. Others have seen you come in here. There is no point in hiding." No answer. Armstrong checked under the neatly made beds. Nothing but dust. "There is nothing to fear, " Armstrong continued. "I'm sure whatever you have done, it will be better just to own it and get it over with."
Al hiccupped.
Armstrong checked the closet. Empty. Hmmm.
"Uh, maybe he went to the mess… or the library," Al suggested.
Armstrong frowned. "Very well, should he return, please send him to Colonel."
Al closed the door, and heard a voice from his neck. "That was close."
It was odd feeling his brother inside him. Disconcerting, and kind of heavy. And Ed had a tendency to tense up when he moved make it difficult to keep his balance. "Maybe you should just go and check in," Al suggested.
"Hell no, Al. It was embarrassing enough to sneaking into a brothel after that book. Having to admit I dressed up like an, um, entertainer to search the place was worse. Seeing all those naked women.., doing… uh… things… I KNOW he's going to make me describe the experience in excruciating detail, the pervert. Honestly my report should be enough."
"Ok. But now what do we do?"
"Can you get me to the train station?"
"With you inside me?"
"Yeah! Otherwise I'll be seen."
"Ok, but you have to relax, brother. Let me do the walking. Otherwise I'm going to fall down."
Al was surprisingly uncomfortable to wear. He was just too damn tall. When Al took over and stood up fully, Ed's feet lifted up off the ground and dangled midway up the metal shins.
Unfortunately that meant that Ed's weight was almost exclusively carried on a rather narrow band of armor running between his legs. The armored arms were also a bit too high, and meant his arms were held in a rather uncomfortable position. Ed finally resorted to pulling his arms back out and holding onto the inside of the armholes to relieve the pressure on his more sensitive areas.
And then there was the suitcase stuffed between his chest and Als chestplate. Never had it felt quite so hard and full of corners. And Al's tiny eye holes… it was darned hard to see ANYTHING through them.
Letting Al carry him around was almost unendurable. However when Al relaxed and let Ed take over, they were forced to walk in an uncharacteristically stooped and awkward manner and attracted a lot more attention than Ed felt comfortable with.
In the end they compromised, with bumbling stooped shuffles and occasional sprints accompanied by a whispered "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow." Somehow they made it to the train station without being waylaid.
But that was as far as they got.
"Duck into the men's room, Al, I need to get out." Ed wondered if he could even walk straight at this point.
"We'll get caught… Oh no, there's the Coronel."
Ed levered himself up enough to see out the narrow eye holes. Sure enough there was Mustang looking smug sitting on a train bench, glancing through the contents of a manila folder. His report. Dang.
Ed made Al turn his head. There was Armstrong on one end of the platform and several other uniformed officers milling about near the ticket counter. "He anticipated me, the bastard."
"Ok, change of plans. I can live like this long enough to get on the train. Tell him that I sent you to Winry's and that I was going to, um, someplace to check something out. I'll be back in three weeks."
"Ok, brother. But I better walk."
"Ouch."
The train pulled up. Al did his best to quietly board but was caught before he'd covered half the distance between their hiding spot and the open door.
"Well, Al. Where's your brother." Mustang asked holding his arm.
"I don't know, sir. He sent me on ahead."
"Oh, so he's going to Rizenbul too?
"Uh, no, he's going somewhere else, to do, uh research, for a couple of weeks."
"Mmm, I see," Mustang drawled. "And where exactly was this somewhere else."
"He didn't say. Sir, the train is about to leave."
"Really, is it now? That’s ok, Al, you can catch the next one."
Al nervousness hit a new high. He hated having to assert himself like this, "I'm not under your command, sir. You can't stop me."
"Very true. But Fullmetal is, and as long as he's hiding inside you, I really can't let you leave." Mustang quietly gestured to his men.
Al heard a choking noise coming from his neck, and sighed as he was surrounded.
Ed looked really uncomfortable in the car for the ride back to his office. Mustang liked that. He wasn't sure which amused him more, the fact that Ed could barely sit straight without wincing, or the fact that he apparently still had his disguise in his suitcase.
"Would you like me to send Armstrong out for some ice when we arrive?"
"You are a bastard."
"And you were dangerously close to going AWOL. And over this, really." Mustang lifted out the costume and shook it slightly. It jingled.
Ed grunted, shifted, and looked miserable.
"And that report was not nearly as thorough as it should have been. I think you'll have to flesh it out quite a bit."
Ed groaned.
"That was really inconvenient -- forcing me to leave the office. I had a lot of work to do. Mmm. I think just for that I'll have you demonstrate."
Ed's eyes widened. "Demonstrate what?"
Roy ran his hands through the gauzy material, holding it up to the light. "Demonstrate how the hell you managed to hide your automail when you wore this thing. It boggles the mind."
It took a lot of self-control not to laugh the entire way back.
The End.
orriginal A/N Really want to know how Ed hid the automail? And why he had to wear the get up in the first place? And why he STILL had the outfit back at the dorms? I know. It makes sense but is somewhat humiliating… and honestly do you want to put him through that? Hasn't the poor boy been spanked enough?
Well turned out people DID want to see me spanking Ed so here is the follow up:
EPILOGUE
TITLE: Uncomfortable
PAIRING: Gen, maybe a wee bit of implied Roy/Ed
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: None.
A/N: This was written after seeing what, maybe 7 or 8 episodes of FMA? It was REALLY early in, and it was before I felt comfortable about writing pairings AT ALL, much less Yaoi ones. Yes I used to be the kind who blushed at the mere thought of guy x guy pairings. Really. I could hardly even READ about guys KISSING at this point. My first smut fic was literally weeks in the future. I believe this was the SECOND fic I ever wrote (discounting the one when I was 13 and the one in the Highlander Fandom that I'd rather not remember).
So keep this in mind, because my writing has improved a lot over the last year, not to mention my level of squeemishness. Come to think of it, actually the amount of change in me in the last year has been kind of astonishing.
"Um. Here. My report," said Ed, handing Hawkeye a manila folder. "And this." He handed a small leather book. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at the unusually nervous 15 year old. "That should be everything. Tell Mustang I'm off to, um, check on a lead. Bye."
And he turned with a swish of his red coat and was half way out the door before Hawkeye could call out. "Hold on, there!"
But Ed was gone. Hawkeye sighed and gathered the report and book up to put on Mustangs desk.
Fifteen minutes later Mustang called out from his office "I want to see Fullmetal as soon as possible!"
Hawkeye sighed. Should have seen that coming.
Ed entered their dorm room and closed the door firmly behind him. "We gotta get out of town now."
"What do you want to do with this?" Al said holding up a belly dancers costume, all filmy scarves and sequins.
"I don't know. I better destroy it."
"But it isn't ours… you stole it. It looks expensive. Shouldn't we give it back?"
Damn Al for having a conscious. "Ok, toss it in the suitcase, we'll mail it back from Winry's." Ed scrambled to organize his notes and find the various small personal things he'd need.
There was a knock at their door. Ed froze his eyes open wide.
"Let me in, young Elric," came a loud reverberant voice. "Colonel Mustang has asked me to escort you to his office, to follow up on your report."
"Tell him I'm not here," whispered Ed.
"Uh. Brother isn't here right now!" Al called through the door. "He's um… in the bathroom."
"Ah, thank you."
"In the bathroom?" said Ed. That will take Armstrong all of 30 seconds to check. "Why didn't you say the mess? Or the library." Ed ran to the window and looked down. It was bright daylight, and the quad was swarming with uniforms.
"Sorry, brother."
"Never mind. You gotta hide me."
"How?"
Armstrong returned to the door in 30 seconds. He paused, hearing an odd clattering behind the door. "Alphonse Elric, Open the door. Now." He mustered his presence and sent it out like a shimmering wave, confident that the younger brother would crumble to his will.
"Uh…" came the young voice. "Uh, just a moment. I'm coming."
Al opened the door. He seemed curiously stooped and humbled. Armstrong felt a moment of regret. He really shouldn't over use his commanding aura. It had an unfortunate tendency to terrify those around him.
Armstrong walked in and called out, "Come out Edward, I know you are in here. Others have seen you come in here. There is no point in hiding." No answer. Armstrong checked under the neatly made beds. Nothing but dust. "There is nothing to fear, " Armstrong continued. "I'm sure whatever you have done, it will be better just to own it and get it over with."
Al hiccupped.
Armstrong checked the closet. Empty. Hmmm.
"Uh, maybe he went to the mess… or the library," Al suggested.
Armstrong frowned. "Very well, should he return, please send him to Colonel."
Al closed the door, and heard a voice from his neck. "That was close."
It was odd feeling his brother inside him. Disconcerting, and kind of heavy. And Ed had a tendency to tense up when he moved make it difficult to keep his balance. "Maybe you should just go and check in," Al suggested.
"Hell no, Al. It was embarrassing enough to sneaking into a brothel after that book. Having to admit I dressed up like an, um, entertainer to search the place was worse. Seeing all those naked women.., doing… uh… things… I KNOW he's going to make me describe the experience in excruciating detail, the pervert. Honestly my report should be enough."
"Ok. But now what do we do?"
"Can you get me to the train station?"
"With you inside me?"
"Yeah! Otherwise I'll be seen."
"Ok, but you have to relax, brother. Let me do the walking. Otherwise I'm going to fall down."
Al was surprisingly uncomfortable to wear. He was just too damn tall. When Al took over and stood up fully, Ed's feet lifted up off the ground and dangled midway up the metal shins.
Unfortunately that meant that Ed's weight was almost exclusively carried on a rather narrow band of armor running between his legs. The armored arms were also a bit too high, and meant his arms were held in a rather uncomfortable position. Ed finally resorted to pulling his arms back out and holding onto the inside of the armholes to relieve the pressure on his more sensitive areas.
And then there was the suitcase stuffed between his chest and Als chestplate. Never had it felt quite so hard and full of corners. And Al's tiny eye holes… it was darned hard to see ANYTHING through them.
Letting Al carry him around was almost unendurable. However when Al relaxed and let Ed take over, they were forced to walk in an uncharacteristically stooped and awkward manner and attracted a lot more attention than Ed felt comfortable with.
In the end they compromised, with bumbling stooped shuffles and occasional sprints accompanied by a whispered "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow." Somehow they made it to the train station without being waylaid.
But that was as far as they got.
"Duck into the men's room, Al, I need to get out." Ed wondered if he could even walk straight at this point.
"We'll get caught… Oh no, there's the Coronel."
Ed levered himself up enough to see out the narrow eye holes. Sure enough there was Mustang looking smug sitting on a train bench, glancing through the contents of a manila folder. His report. Dang.
Ed made Al turn his head. There was Armstrong on one end of the platform and several other uniformed officers milling about near the ticket counter. "He anticipated me, the bastard."
"Ok, change of plans. I can live like this long enough to get on the train. Tell him that I sent you to Winry's and that I was going to, um, someplace to check something out. I'll be back in three weeks."
"Ok, brother. But I better walk."
"Ouch."
The train pulled up. Al did his best to quietly board but was caught before he'd covered half the distance between their hiding spot and the open door.
"Well, Al. Where's your brother." Mustang asked holding his arm.
"I don't know, sir. He sent me on ahead."
"Oh, so he's going to Rizenbul too?
"Uh, no, he's going somewhere else, to do, uh research, for a couple of weeks."
"Mmm, I see," Mustang drawled. "And where exactly was this somewhere else."
"He didn't say. Sir, the train is about to leave."
"Really, is it now? That’s ok, Al, you can catch the next one."
Al nervousness hit a new high. He hated having to assert himself like this, "I'm not under your command, sir. You can't stop me."
"Very true. But Fullmetal is, and as long as he's hiding inside you, I really can't let you leave." Mustang quietly gestured to his men.
Al heard a choking noise coming from his neck, and sighed as he was surrounded.
Ed looked really uncomfortable in the car for the ride back to his office. Mustang liked that. He wasn't sure which amused him more, the fact that Ed could barely sit straight without wincing, or the fact that he apparently still had his disguise in his suitcase.
"Would you like me to send Armstrong out for some ice when we arrive?"
"You are a bastard."
"And you were dangerously close to going AWOL. And over this, really." Mustang lifted out the costume and shook it slightly. It jingled.
Ed grunted, shifted, and looked miserable.
"And that report was not nearly as thorough as it should have been. I think you'll have to flesh it out quite a bit."
Ed groaned.
"That was really inconvenient -- forcing me to leave the office. I had a lot of work to do. Mmm. I think just for that I'll have you demonstrate."
Ed's eyes widened. "Demonstrate what?"
Roy ran his hands through the gauzy material, holding it up to the light. "Demonstrate how the hell you managed to hide your automail when you wore this thing. It boggles the mind."
It took a lot of self-control not to laugh the entire way back.
The End.
orriginal A/N Really want to know how Ed hid the automail? And why he had to wear the get up in the first place? And why he STILL had the outfit back at the dorms? I know. It makes sense but is somewhat humiliating… and honestly do you want to put him through that? Hasn't the poor boy been spanked enough?
Well turned out people DID want to see me spanking Ed so here is the follow up:
EPILOGUE