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It was a mistake to allow Ed stay in the military past 17, never mind continuing to keep him on at 23. It was a mistake to make Ed have to wear the uniform. It was a mistake to keep Ed on his team, a mistake that haunts Roy right now.
None of these are the worst mistakes Roy’s ever made, but they’re pretty high up there. Especially when he needs to be paying attention in meetings, and he could see Ed out of the corner of his eye. Roy isn’t quite sure when Ed had lost the uniform’s jacket, but the plain black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath it should be a considered a sin. It should’ve been a crime. How in the world is Roy supposed to concentrate on what his fellow Generals are saying when his temporary adjutant slash informal bodyguard is standing just behind him, arms over his chest and flexing those biceps?
This is absolutely Riza’s doing. Her name is written all over his undoing. She’d called in sick this morning and had suggested Ed be Roy’s adjutant for the day. He’d asked Ed shortly after the younger man had walked into the office half an hour later, and Ed hadn’t answered him until after he’d drank half a cup of the swill they call coffee.
“Lunch, dinner, and drinks.” Ed had held up a finger with each word, leaning back against Riza’s desk as he’d watched Roy.
“I am not negotiating with you,” Roy had retorted, annoyed. “I am literally your superior officer. You should do it because I told you to, not because you’re getting something out of it.”
Ed had taken another sip of coffee, raised an eyebrow and saluted Roy with the mug. “How’s that working for you then?”
Roy had growled, and went into his office. He did not stomp into it, thank you very much, and he certainly did not slam the door behind him. He knew that Ed didn’t care much for the chain of command, cannot figure out why Edward Problems-With-Authority Elric would stay in the military after his goal had been achieved. He wasn’t expecting much from Fullmetal as his adjutant, but his first surprise had come when Edward had entered his office several minutes later with a cup of coffee that was actually drinkable and several folders of paperwork, with the ones needing his immediate attention at the very top. It’s Riza Hawkeye levels of competence, and it had only gone uphill from there.
To now. There’d been no way he could rearrange this meeting to take place on a day Hawkeye would be back in the office, uncertain that even with the level to detail Ed was showing, he’d be able to pull this off. But not only did this meeting go off without a hitch, any dissent that would’ve normally happened… doesn’t.
He’d thought it had been because it was nearing lunchtime and the other generals wanted to wrap up quickly so they could get food since none was being provided. But then he’d noticed the faintest hint of muscle flexing out of the corner of his eye when one General opened his mouth to speak before immediately thinking better of it.
It had to be a fluke. Had to be.
“Now, Mustang,” Another General begins, and this time, he can hear Ed resettling his body weight behind him. The General’s eyes flick toward Ed before he shakes his head. “Nevermind.”
As Roy turns in his seat to look Ed straight on - Ed’s just standing there with his arms folded over his chest, in that skintight black t-shirt, with the muscles honed from a lifetime of martial arts training, sparring and the occasional weight training on full display and he arches one blond eyebrow at Roy as if to ask what’s Roy’s problem – Fuhrer Grumman clears his throat. “How about we call it a day for this meeting, then?”
“And maybe General Mustang can collar his guard dog,” one of the Generals mutters to a colleague as they collect their collective paperwork and rise to their collective feet.
“A muzzle wouldn’t be a bad suggestion either,” the other General whispers back, casting a glance toward Ed, who simply shrugs back into his uniform’s jacket and buttons it up like he hadn’t been out of uniform for the length of the meeting.
“Now, now,” Grumman smiles like a benevolent grandfather, listening to his grandchildren bickering and refusing to choose sides. “We should all be proud to have such fierce individuals like Fullmetal on our side and not our enemies’.”
There’s some murmuring of vague agreement that Roy isn’t entirely sure is the kind of agreement that Grumman’s expecting, but it’s a clear enough dismissal that he leaves the room with Ed in tow.
He expects that Ed – who doesn’t give a damn about convention and the proper way of doing things – will walk next to him as they make their way back to their office, but just like he’d done on the way to the meeting, Ed walks half a step behind Roy, the paperwork from the meeting tucked in one arm and snug to Ed’s chest. The jacket hides the flex of bicep at the action, but Roy’s imagination has no problem filling in the gaps.
Roy’s imagination might be in cahoots with Riza. A case study in insubordination from everyone around him.
Ed follows him, still half a pace behind, all the way back into Roy’s inner office, setting the folders from the meeting down on a relatively empty part of Roy’s desk. He’s leaning over the desk to straighten up the scattered mess of papers Roy had left as Roy pulls his chair over to sit down and it’s… the absolute worst possible thing for Roy and his insubordinate imagination. The uniform’s trousers are always loose and baggy, usually leaving plenty to the imagination. But the way Ed’s bending over makes them pull tight against the curve of his ass.
Roy rests his elbow against his desk, placing his chin in his hand, and tries to swallow the veritable overflow of saliva in his mouth at that perfect curve, so close, so tempting. He is so fucked.
“Don’t forget,” Ed’s saying as he leans back up, his spine moving and angling in ways that Roy would love to fucking see without a shirt on, golden gaze focused on the papers he’s tapping into a neat stack. Riza would be fucking proud. “You owe me lunch.”
Roy’s sorry – and also not entirely sorry – that it takes him a moment to register Ed’s words, or the fact that Ed’s watching him out of the corner of his eye through the curtain of blond bangs. “I do not owe you anything, Fullmetal.” Good, good, his voice doesn’t betray the lust roaring through his veins. He might even be believable. “Seeing as you are my subordinate and should do as I say.”
It's a mistake to look up, to look Ed in the eye as Ed’s head turns to look directly at Roy. The look on Ed’s face is as unreadable now as it had been back in the meeting, but it soon smooths out into a slowly raised eyebrow that is so reminiscent of Riza but also so distinctly Elric.
“I should do what you say, hmm?” Ed’s voice is smooth as silk, smooth as butter, and it sends a shiver of want, no, need go down Roy’s spine. Ed hooks a finger in the collar of his uniform, drawing it along the line of his throat. “I did hear those generals talking about how you should collar and muzzle your guard dog, probably before I bite someone.”
The fingers of one of Ed’s hands unbutton the top button of Ed’s uniform as Ed leans forward into Roy’s space, the other slipping inside the uniform to curl loosely around Ed’s throat. “How are you going to collar me, sir?” Ed’s voice is low, husky. Practically a purr that rumbles its way south for Roy. He can feel himself stiffening in his trousers at the way Ed’s voice sounds, at the way Ed’s laser focused on him.
“I-“ Roy starts, trying not to shift in his chair as Ed places the hand not around his own throat on one of the arms of the desk chair, leaning into Roy like he wants to crawl into Roy’s lap. He can’t remember if anyone’s in the outer office, doesn’t think they’d locked the door behind them.
“What?” Ed whispers, still low and husky, the hand around his throat sliding back to pull his ponytail over his shoulder as his tongue swipes across his lower lip. “Don’t tell me I muzzled you.” Those golden eyes flick down to Roy’s lap as a smirk crosses Ed’s lips. “Sir.”
Roy swallows, trying to shift in a way that says he’s not getting turned on by either Ed’s words or the focused way the blond’s staring at him. Trying not to reach out for that blond ponytail casually pulled over one shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Good, his voice doesn’t sound like he’s that affected. “Or what you think you’re doing to me.”
“I think,” Ed’s voice drops almost impossibly lower as he leans in even impossibly closer, one knee coming up to wedge itself between Roy’s thigh and the chair’s arm. “That you’ve been staring at me since the start of that fucking stupid meeting.” The other leg comes up as Ed settles himself in Roy’s lap, smirking down at Roy. “And that you were just staring at my ass.” He licks his lower lip slowly, keeping his gaze on Roy’s as he moves his hand from the arm of the chair to the back of Roy’s neck. “Sir.”
Roy’s throat might as well be the great fucking desert with how dry it is as Ed settles against him, mere inches away. He could lean forward to kiss him, could let Ed pull him into a kiss. Could settle his hands on Ed’s hips, his thighs. Could do whatever his imagination’s been taunting him with all morning, especially since Ed is clearly receptive to it, judging by the way he’s pressing against Roy. But all he can think is…
“The door’s not locked.” He breathes out in a slow exhale, meeting that intense, intense gaze. “And I thought you wanted me to buy you lunch, not…” His hands feel like lead as he moves them from where they’d been to the tops of Ed’s thighs.
“I still want food, but.” Ed scrunches his nose up in a way that, in other circumstances, would be incredibly adorable, but right now, might be one of the sexiest things Roy’s ever seen. “You look pretty appetizing too.” That smirk again. “Sir.”
Before Roy can say anything in response to that, Ed’s pushing himself off Roy’s lap and crossing the room. If Roy didn’t know any better, he’d think there’s the faintest bit of swing to Ed’s hips. Like Ed knows Roy’s watching every move he makes.
“There’s still people in the other room.” Roy manages to get out as he watches Ed lock the door. There’s a dim part of his brain that’s aware this is a bad idea – being in a locked room with his subordinate, even if said subordinate is Ed and he’s pretty sure his team’s been making bets over something happening for the last couple years – but the majority of his brain is all for this plan.
“Then you’ll just have to be quiet.” Ed says as he makes his way back to where Roy’s still sat in his chair. Ed’s undoing the buttons on his uniform jacket as he approaches the desk once more, shrugging it off and tossing it on one of the couches as he passes it. “Or keep me quiet.”
For a moment, Roy thinks Ed’s going to crawl over the desk itself to get back to him, but then Ed’s rounding the massive piece of furniture and hopping up to sit on it. Ed very slowly and deliberately puts his booted feet on the arms of Roy’s chair, bracketing Roy between his legs. “How do you want me, sir?”
There’s no mockery in the title, and hasn’t been for each utterance of the word ‘sir’. Roy’s not one for the word turning him on, but there’s something about Ed saying it that makes his trousers painfully tight. Fuck, it’s probably why Ed keeps calling him ‘sir’ in that tone.
Roy pushes himself to his feet, stepping closer to the desk until his thighs meet the unyielding wood and he’s got Ed’s thighs resting against his hips. He rests one hand against the desk by Ed’s hip and slides the other up along the tight abs that fucking maddening black t-shirt’s hiding from his sight. He thinks he’d prefer a nooner at his house, spreading Ed out on his bed and taking his fucking sweet time collaring and muzzling this fierce creature that maddens and taunts him at turns. One of the couches could come close, Roy knows, but they’d still have to be quick about it in case he’s needed for something.
Ed’s just watching him from beneath half-lowered eyelids, those golden eyes glittering behind long blond lashes as Roy tries to collect his thoughts for how he wants this golden menace. Ed’s boots are still against the chair behind Roy, muscular thighs pressing into Roy’s hips, while Ed props himself up on his elbows to angle himself better.
He’s making a mess of Roy’s paperwork, making a mess of Roy’s….
Somehow, somehow, Roy manages to swallow and take a step back. “On your stomach, Fullmetal.”
Those gorgeous lashes rise, molten gold meeting Roy’s eyes once more before Ed kicks the chair behind Roy away, slowly and deliberately putting his feet on the floor once more before just as slowly and deliberately turning around to plant his palms against the desk. Roy watches as Ed reaches as far across the desk as he can, leaning forward to put himself on display for the man standing behind him. Ed’s blond ponytail has settled along Ed’s spine and the sight of it against the tight black shirt makes Roy’s fingers itch at the need to grab at it.
“Like this?” Ed’s head turns just a fraction to the right, just enough that he can see Roy out of the corner of his eye before he adds, “Sir?”
Roy’s throat feels like the fucking desert all over again as he brings his hand to the dip of Ed’s lower back, slides it lower so he can wiggle his fingers under the damnable fabric and push it up to reveal tantalizing golden skin. Ed’s muscles ripple under the light touch and Roy can’t help himself; he bends down to press a kiss against Ed’s spine.
Ed makes the faintest noise somewhere above him, but he manages to stay otherwise still. “Sir?”
“Just like this will do, yes.” Roy breathes against the tanned skin, wondering how far down the tan goes and knowing he’ll find his answer out soon enough.
“It occurs to me,” Ed starts after a moment, adjusting his stance as Roy reaches around to unbuckle Ed’s belt, his voice somehow sounding steady while Roy feels like he’s going to burn up just looking at Edward Elric bent over his desk like this, nevermind that he gets to touch him. “That I should’ve asked if you had…” His voice trails off into a cough and the sound of that cough makes Roy look up to find Ed staring determinedly at the locked office door with a tinge of red to his ears.
“Are you blushing?” Roy finds himself asking, his fingers stilling against the fly of Ed’s trousers, and can’t quite manage to stifle the laugh at the indignant glower Ed shoots him over his shoulder.
“I’m bent over your desk, bastard,” Ed growls, and even though the growl borders on dangerous, it’s also shot through with a clear need. “Where anyone who picks that damn lock could see me, waiting for you to fuck me and it’s just occurred to me that someone with your reputation might not keep supplies in your fucking desk.”
“For someone bent over my desk,” Roy makes sure to emphasize the word the same way Ed had, his fingers sliding down the zipper of Ed’s fly and slipping his fingers into Ed’s trousers to cup him. He’d expected him to be wearing something underneath those trousers, but he’s also not surprised to find that Ed’s wearing nothing underneath his uniform. Ed inhales sharply, his legs widening a fraction, but he shows no other sign of being affected by the action. “You’re certainly still mouthy.”
Ed turns his head just enough to rest his cheek against one arm to look over his shoulder at Roy. His cheeks are still a bit pink, but there’s a challenging look in those amber eyes. “If you think my bark’s bad, you should see my bite.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Roy says casually, squeezing around Ed’s cock as his free hand opens a drawer in his desk, reaching into it and pulling out what he’s looking for. He makes a point to set the bottle of lube and the condom near Ed’s face. He watches as Ed’s gaze refocuses on the supplies, using the distraction to tug Ed’s trousers down.
To say that Ed’s ass is a work of art would be an understatement and detrimental to it. All the training that had given Ed the muscles that Roy’s been secretly drooling over all morning has toned and sculpted his ass to a miracle that makes Roy want to drool. He settles for running his hand down the curve of it instead.
What he wouldn’t give to have the ample time to give this perfect ass his full attention.
And then Ed shifts his weight, holding an arm back toward Roy, the supplies that Roy had placed next to him in the outstretched hand. “Stop staring at it like you’re expecting it to do tricks.”
“Do you do tricks?” Roy finds himself asking, keeping his hand on the curve of Ed’s ass. “Like sit? Stay?”
“I will bite you.” Ed growls, twisting a bit to glare over his shoulder at Roy. He looks like he’s ready to chuck the supplies at Roy’s head, even as his cheeks pink up again. “Maybe we should find out what tricks you can do.”
“You certainly have got ‘speak’ down well.” Roy quips, raising a sardonic eyebrow at the glare. He feels Ed shifting his weight, the hand still on the desk shifting to push the younger man upright. And Roy just can’t have that, not now. Reluctantly, he takes his hand off Ed’s ass and uses his weight to pin Ed to the desk, twisting Ed’s arm up to pin both of his wrists to the desk. “Stay, kitten.”
This close, their cheeks practically touching, Roy can see as Ed goes absolutely red at either the pet name, the order, or both.
“Fascinating,” Roy breathes out loud, smirking as Ed squirms a bit under him, clearly testing Roy’s grip on him. He knows that if Ed really wanted to, he could break free of Roy’s grasp, could buck Roy off him without breaking a sweat.
“Am I a dog or a cat to you, bastard?” Ed huffs out, his eyes flicking from where he’s watching Roy out of the corner of his eye to the locked door and back. Like he’s reminding Roy of the time limit they’re under.
“Why can’t you be both?” Roy moves Ed’s arms closer, shifting his grip to wrap his hand around both wrists. Ed’s head tilts a fraction and Roy knows that Ed’s focusing on the grip now. “Stay,” he repeats, using his freed hand to grab the lube from Ed’s hand. After a moment’s consideration, he removes his hand from Ed’s wrists so he can pull off a glove and pour some of the lube onto his fingers.
When he’d let go, Roy expected that Ed would ignore the order to stay, shift his arms out of the position that Roy had pulled them in. But Ed stays where Roy had left him, bent over the desk with his arms still stretched out over his head, wrists crossed. Ed’s a fucking vision and Roy can’t believe his luck. He also knows that he should do something with the vision over his desk if he wants a repeat. All the things that are going through his head could be done later, at home, at his leisure, if he doesn’t keep taunting his fierce guard dog this way.
He hopes anyway.
He takes a deep breath, mentally shaking himself out of his thoughts and plans and slides his hand along the swell of Ed’s ass. The action makes Ed’s breath come out in a low hiss and Roy can tell that Ed’s trying to keep himself still, try to keep the order Roy had given him.
“Can you please just-“ Ed starts, the words cutting off in another hiss as Roy’s fingers brush against his entrance. Ed presses his forehead against one of his arms, trying to spread his legs further apart in clear invitation while hampered by his trousers down around his knees.
“I don’t remember saying you could speak,” Roy says, pushing a finger in with only minimal resistance. Ed swallows above him, lifting his head up just enough to knock it against the desk a single time. This is the most Roy’s ever seen Ed stay put, stay still, from an order of all things, and the power of it is rushing to his head.
“Sir, please,” Ed whispers, swallowing again. Roy wonders again if Ed’s aware of how that one word is absolutely fucking with his head when it falls from Ed’s lips. “I can take whatever you give me, promise.”
The scary thing is, Roy believes him. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he believes that Ed would let him do whatever he wanted if he’s vulnerable like this. It does some fucked up things to his head, wondering if it’s something Ed would do for anyone he’s sleeping with or just for Roy himself. It causes a rush of protectiveness in Roy that he has to tamp down to focus on adding a second finger and twisting them. Ed might be okay with minimal prep, but Roy doesn’t want to hurt him.
By the time Roy adds a third finger, Ed has shifted just enough that he’s biting down on his bicep to keep himself from crying out and that might be Roy’s undoing. He pulls his fingers out, reaching for the condom. Somehow, he manages to open it and roll it on. The sound of the foil crinkling makes Ed turn his head the fraction more to watch Roy over his shoulder and Roy finds himself staring back into those glittering golden eyes as he lines himself up. They flutter closed as Roy pushes in in a slow glide and Ed moans low.
“Fucking finally,” Ed breathes out with the moan and Roy doesn’t know just where it comes from, but he slides his hand in under the tie of the low ponytail, disheveling the blond hair and using his grip to pull Ed’s head back. It changes the line of Ed’s neck into another work of art, one that Roy wants to admire later, and it makes Ed’s eyes slide close as he swallows hard. From this angle, Roy can see the bob of Ed’s throat at the action.
“Did I say you could speak?” Roy purrs in Ed’s ear and watches as Ed’s throat bobs again in another hard swallow. He knows he has to move because he doesn’t think he’ll last long in how perfect Ed feels around him, but he also wants to stay sheathed inside Ed forever.
“N-no, sir.” Ed manages around a groan. His eyes blink open again, staring across the office at the locked door. Roy can’t see his gaze very well at this angle, and he uses his grip on Ed’s hair to tilt Ed’s face toward him. Those golden eyes are dark, glazing over, and Roy hasn’t done anything but yank at Ed’s hair and bury his cock inside Ed’s heat. Fuck him, Roy’s going to be ruined for anyone else after this.
Roy tightens his grip in Ed’s hair, pulling his head back another fraction, but making sure Ed’s still looking at him. “What did I just say?”
Ed whimpers, pink tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip, but he doesn’t say anything this time. The whimper goes straight to Roy’s cock.
“Good boy.” Roy murmurs, letting his hand slide out of Ed’s hair to reach forward to grip Ed’s wrists once more while his free hand reaches around to wrap around Ed’s cock. Without Roy’s hand in his hair, Ed’s head falls back to the desk once more, his forehead resting against it as Roy starts to pull out.
The first rough thrust back in seems to punch the air out of Ed’s lungs and Roy hears the clink of Ed’s dog tags falling out of Ed’s shirt to hit the top of Roy’s desk. A second results in a hiccup of air, like Ed can’t catch his breath. Roy wonders, with the third rough thrust in, if he’s hurting Ed and he’s just about to ask when Ed just widens his stance a fraction more.
“More, please. Harder.” Ed whines in the back of his throat, shifting his hands so that his fingers latch together, the left over the right. “Sir.” He adds like it’s an afterthought, moaning as Roy manages yet another thrust into him. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay, I’ll stay.”
Roy’s so distracted by the absolute need in Ed’s voice that he doesn’t reprimand him this time, just moves his hand from Ed’s wrists to Ed’s hip. Ed keeps his hands where they’d been, fingers latched together and curling like he’s using them as an anchor.
This is the most obedient Roy’s ever seen Ed and if that’s not a turn-on….
“Do you think you could come without being touched?” Roy finds himself asking, the hand around Ed’s cock falling back to Ed’s other hip. Ed doesn’t respond, just gives a tiny jerk of his head.
Fuck. Ed’ll be the death of him.
He curls his fingers into Ed’s hips, slamming into the willing body beneath him. The only sounds in the room are that of the air being punched from Ed’s lungs as he gasps beneath Roy, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the clinking of Ed’s dog tags against the desk as each thrust of Roy’s hips slams Ed’s chest into the desk.
Roy can feel his orgasm building, and even though Ed had indicated he could come without being touched, Roy wants them to come together. He reaches around, wrapping his fingers around Ed’s leaking cock. He only manages a stroke before Ed’s coming with a gasp and a shudder, and if Roy thought he’d been tight before…
He gets one more shallow thrust in before he’s coming himself, biting down on the curve of Ed’s shoulder. It means he’s got a mouthful of that sinful t-shirt, but he’ll live.
He rests his forehead against Ed’s shoulder, panting as he comes down. He can hear Ed panting underneath him, the younger man shifting a bit like Roy’s weight is now starting to hurt.
“Are you okay?” Roy finds himself asking, still panting. He feels hazy from the orgasm, from being inside Ed.
“I’m fine.” Ed shifts again, turning his head to look at Roy over his shoulder. “About fucking time, though.” He rests his cheek against his arm. “We missed lunch, though. I expect a decent steak dinner, with drinks, for another round.”
Roy has no idea what to say to that, but leans up to press a kiss to Ed’s forehead. “Deal.”
When Roy walks into his office the next morning, Riza’s sitting at her desk, sipping at her mug and not looking the least bit sick. She looks up when Roy stops by her desk, narrowing his eyes down at her. “Good morning, General.”
“You don’t look sick.” Roy lets just enough suspicion bleed into his voice at it, but Riza only meets his gaze placidly.
“Twenty four hour bug.” She places her hands on her desk, pushing herself to her feet and reaching for the first stack of folders for the day. “How was your replacement adjutant for the day?”
Roy does not look over at Ed, who slunk in the door several steps behind him and is clearly trying to sit down at his desk gingerly. There’d been a few rounds the night before, and another this morning and Roy probably should not be thinking about how he’d whispered filthily in Ed’s ear while Ed had been bent over the kitchen table about how Roy was considering yet another round in the office.
“He did well. You would be proud,” is what Roy says instead.
Riza’s gaze moves from Roy’s face over to Ed’s and back. She pauses before indicating Roy’s neck with the stack of folders. “Did you get a new dog, sir? You’ve got a bite just above the collar.”
Fuck. Of course Ed bit him in a place he can’t hide. Roy covers the bite with one hand, shrugging. He ignores the playful ribbing Haymans and Jean are giving Ed in the background about having a wild night. “Yes. Very fierce animal. We’re still working on training though.”
Riza’s gaze moves to Ed again, and only their long history lets Roy know that her lips twitch in the faintest smile. Oh, she’d planned on what had happened yesterday, or at least had manipulated things to get Roy’s head out of his ass. “Well, I hope your new dog’s around for a long time, sir.”
“You just wish you could take me, Havoc.” Ed throws a balled up piece of paper at Jean’s head in the background.
Roy knows his history with Riza will let her know he’s hiding his own smile. “I certainly hope so, Hawkeye. I certainly hope so.”