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Zanne's Fanfiction (plotbunnyattack) wrote in chaotic_library, @ 2007-10-29 09:10:00

[ed/roy; nc-17] Taking Command
Title: Taking Command
Author: emilie_burns
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Edward Elric / Roy Mustang
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3909
Warnings: Smut. Slash. Light bondage. Turning slash conventions and staples on its ear. If you prefer seme/uke stereotypes, this isn't for you.
Written For: fma_fuh_q, Ed Month (Oct '07)
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) is copyrighted by Hiromu Arakawa/Square Enix. Personal entertainment only, no profit, yadda yadda.
Notes: Yes, I've written this pairing. No, I still don't like it. I claimed it for the challenge of trying to write hot smut for a pairing I don't like and make it good. While I knew that Roy and Ed could be written into a pairing situation and still kept in character, since there are a few fics out there that manage to pull it off, I was really at a loss for a setting. Although this stands alone very well, I borrowed off a larger plot that I've poked at in fics with friends that feature a polyamorous relationship between Ed, Riza, and Roy. There are a few mentions of het in this, although Riza makes no appearance -- she's not even in the same part of the country as the boys. I also like to write slash that goes against the usual conventions and bucks the stereotypes.
Summary: Edward didn't explode at the jab to his height in a manner Mustang predicted, judging by the stunned flash in wide, dark eyes as Ed grabbed him by his shirtfront and hooked an ankle around his knees, sending him to the floor before Mustang could react.




Taking Command

He still wasn't sure about the new arrangements. He wasn't sure about very much of anything, especially whether or not anything was reality where the changes were concerned. It was all a bit too good to be true, and if there was one lesson Edward Elric had learned very well, it was that everything had a price.

So he couldn't quite manage to convince himself that despite all the reassurances he'd been given, there wasn't an incoming punchline, the other shoe wasn't about to drop, and he wasn't going to wake up any given moment.

He'd never been this nervous visiting the general before, but then, it was also the first time he'd seen the older man since Roy had left Riza's house several weeks ago.

Ed felt like he'd ought to apologize when Riza had finally drawn the truth out of him: he'd fallen for them both. He hadn't meant to, it just... happened. He'd known all along they were together, and maybe if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared as much. But it was Mustang. For all the rivalry, there was also more respect than he'd ever wanted to admit to, admiration that was dragged kicking and screaming into a crush before snowballing into a full-out case of head-over-heels.

And Riza was his. They were both untouchable, out of his reach.

When Mustang got "promoted" to a post up North, and Riza was reassigned out East, Ed and Al began to include stops by either post in their traveling to check up on them. It didn't take long before they also served the role of message courier, which Ed continued to do even after Al began to stay home with Winry at least half the time once he was finally comfortable in his restored body.

Ed never meant to fall for either of them, let alone both. He was fully prepared to be told to go away when the confession came out. Instead, Riza returned it, and assured him she would take care of the situation. He still couldn't see how it wouldn't end up going horribly wrong.

But with her grandfather's help in procuring a cover excuse for Mustang to travel to the East for a few days, she somehow not only convinced him to consent to a polyamorous relationship, but when she called Ed to come to the house, the older man had joined in with them. The remaining few days of Mustang's leave were spent with the three exploring the new facet in their relationships and interactions -- and each other.

Ed didn't believe it would -- or even could -- last. He also wasn't sure of the rules, what was okay for him and what wasn't, or where he stood. It was their relationship. Mustang and Riza. He was just there, and either of them could make him lose them both. It was a sickening, scary feeling, but if those days which had been too surreal and perfect to really be real were all he'd ever be allowed, he'd make it be enough for him.

Now they were back to how things were before, in more ways than one. Nothing seemed to have changed. Since his arrival the day before, Ed became increasingly convinced that Mustang's participation had been for Riza's benefit, that he'd pegged him right from the start -- the man was utterly straight. Nothing whatsoever in his treatment toward Ed now seemed to acknowledge the times he'd been between them, pinning Riza to the bed with the other man buried inside him.

The silence was uncomfortable now, and Ed was keenly aware of being watched by a pair of dark eyes over the rim of a glass of whiskey. Ed pretended to read while trying to find a topic, something safe to say to break that awful quiet. The whiskey glass clinked on wood as Mustang set it down, and it was followed by a sigh.

"Edward."

He tensed, afraid of what would follow. This was a mistake. Forget it ever happened and it would be better if you left the two of us alone from now on. I don't want you here. I don't--

"Edward. Look at me."

There weren't enough walls in existence that he could pull up to protect himself from the anticipated blow. There it was -- the price. If anything seemed too good to be true, it was. It always was. He looked at the general and tried to ignore how his heart constricted painfully. Beautiful. The lamplight only accentuated it. He knew it wasn't a word most would use for a man, but it fit Mustang.

Roy hesitated as if he'd been about to say something only to think better of it. Ed watched, apprehension building as the other man stood and approached. "Stand up."

Ed complied, balling his flesh hand into a fist to stop it from shaking as he steeled himself against a nameless dread, expecting the worst.

Another few moments of silence ticked by, then Mustang sighed again. "I didn't think this one through--"

Oh god. Here it comes.

"--so stand on the chair. I don't want to have to bend over so close to the ground just to kiss you."

Wait, what. Stupefied, Ed blinked at him.

"What are you waiting for? Do you need me to fetch you a stepladder so you can climb up there?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE HAS TO USE A LADDER TO REACH A BUG'S KNEES?!" Ed shouted, then blushed furiously as the general started laughing. Laughing. Goddamn him. How did he always manage to make him feel horribly off-kilter? "I am not that short, you jackass!" Ed stepped up into his personal space, scowling at him. "And wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I do it for you!"

"Oh, I don't have anything to worry about, then. You're not tall enough to do that."

Roy might have been taller, but with Ed's muscle mass and automail, he outweighed him, and had the better leverage to grab him by his shirtfront, several buttons popping at the rough motion, and Ed hauled him around to shove him down onto the chair. For once, Mustang was too startled to do more than make an incoherent noise, then Ed was on his lap, straddling and pinning him, and seized a fistful of black hair in his flesh hand before making sure that jackass wouldn't get a chance to get out a witty retort.

If he tried, whatever was said was muffled into the kiss.

He tasted like whiskey and warmth, and the fireplace smoke was mixed faintly with him, creating a heady combination. Ed wanted him, and Mustang had given the proverbial green light. Not much else was capable of registering beyond the way the taste and feel and scent of the other man had Ed's nerves tangled up into a crackling, brittle mess.

Ed kissed him harder as hands slid down his back and teased sensitive skin through his shirt along the way. The action sent spirals of electrical heat down his spine and through his hips, following along the tightening rush that made the leather pants increasingly uncomfortable. Then the hands cupped lower as Mustang pulled him closer, and Ed captured his bottom lip between his teeth as he drew in a sharp, hissing breath at the pressure. He shifted his footing and position to better grind against him, and was rewarded with a low groan of pleasure.

As enjoyable as it was, it wouldn't do for the long term. Not only were his pants becoming too restrictive, but their position wouldn't work for either of them, not with what Ed had in mind. He relinquished his control, albeit reluctantly, and backed away to stand.

"Get up," he ordered, his voice thick with need even to his own ears. Mustang arched an eyebrow in an almost sardonic manner, but his breathing was too unsteady to carry the full effect.

"I outrank you, you know."

"And I don't give a shit. Get up."

That damnable smirk deepened, and with an almost lazy ease, he stood. "Well, I suppose there is something you're tall enough to do, and you don't even need to kneel."

Edward didn't explode at the jab to his height in a manner Mustang predicted, judging by the stunned flash in wide, dark eyes as Ed grabbed him by his shirtfront and hooked an ankle around his knees, sending him to the floor before Mustang could react. "Thanks for the idea, jackass." Ed shifted his grip to Roy's hair. "Undo my pants; if you're going to be so mouthy, there's better things you can do with it."

One of his eyebrows arched even higher. "You're only getting away with this because I'm allowing it, Fullmetal."

"Says the guy who's behind a desk half the time. I kicked your ass when I was fifteen, it wouldn't be any trouble to do it again now." Shadows of a nagging doubt tugged at him, suggesting that he was going too far, that if he didn't watch his step he would lose them both. His grip on Roy's hair began to slack off.

Instead of pulling away as Ed expected, Mustang only smirked yet again and tugged down the zipper of Ed's pants. "Only just barely, as I recall, and I'm more aware of your tricks now. You're too predictable, Edward."

Ed scowled. "I am not, and besides, even if I am, I'm still good enough thaaaaaaaah..." He trailed off in mid-word as coherent thought shattered and fizzled out, and he convulsively tightened his grip on Roy's hair. Mustang smirked at him as he dragged his tongue up the length of Ed's cock again. "You jackass," he whispered and clenched his teeth.

Mustang somehow knew all the buttons to push and just exactly how to push them to keep Ed feeling the way he always did around the man -- ineffective, immature, unbalanced, like some kid still wet behind the ears, like he did that first day in Central when he got his first real look at the man who offered him the only possible road out of the hell he and Al had been cast inside. If he had to admit to it, that day marked the first stirrings of a mess of emotions too tangled to be identified as any one thing. Mustang was larger than life then, a pinnacle of Ed's goals, what he someday wanted to be. In control, calm, collected, with a knack for making everything fall into place just so.

He proved to be all too human unfortunately, a fact of life that made Edward hate him for being too real to remain perched atop that idealistic pedestal. If the man he'd begun to admire and look up to, the man who promised him a way of salvation, could fail, what hope did he have? In a way, it was a form of lying, although the broken promises came from Edward's own perception. With age and maturity, that idealistic worship and hatred had morphed into something else.

But for all his gained experience, Ed still couldn't figure out how to stay a step ahead of the man except in a physical arena, and damned if he wouldn't find a way to make Mustang be the one off-kilter and unbalanced and awkward, just see if he wouldn't. He hadn't thought his plan completely through though, even if he did have a better than average turn-around time. He'd have to be quick, to avoid Mustang taking advantage of those post-climatic moments, unless he was willing to change their arrangement.

The sly gleam in Mustang's eyes settled that question pretty damn quick.

Ed pulled him away from his cock, and with a push, knocked the older man back on his ass.

"What are you up to?" he demanded and arched an eyebrow as Ed straddled his lap, pinning him.

"You mean you can't figure it out, Mustang?" Before Roy could reply, another push from Ed had him flat on his back, and a clap transmuted the floorboards into smooth pseudoshackles over Mustang's wrists. Ed couldn't keep from grinning triumphantly at his former commander's startled expression. "What were you saying again about me being too predictable?"

"So you've learned something over all these years," Roy murmured. "Perhaps there's hope for you after all."

That just earned him a light smack upside his head with Ed's flesh hand. "I could just leave you like this, you know," Ed grumbled.

Mustang was sufficiently trapped for the moment, although Ed didn't doubt that he'd have to work quickly before he managed to figure out a way to get free. He stood and fetched a small bottle from his travel bag, a bit of vitamin e oil that he used from time to time on his surgery scars, and it would serve well enough for another purpose. He quickly unlaced his boots, then discarded his shirt and pants onto the chair, keeping an eye on the other man as much as possible. It wasn't entirely due to the erotic scene before him; he didn't trust Mustang to behave.

Next to go was Mustang's uniform trousers -- or at least as much as necessary to expose his cock. Ed didn't bother with the shirtfront buttons, he could repair them easily enough with alchemy, or it might even give Roy something to keep busy with, finding them and sewing them back on, and buttons went flying in scattered directions with a sharp tug at the fabric.

"You're going to fix that," Mustang said.

"Make me." Before Roy could say anything else to that, Ed gripped the other man's cock in his flesh hand just hard enough to rob him of the ability to breathe, let alone think. He popped open the cap to the bottle, and poured a bit of oil over the head, letting his fingers spread it more, slicking it down as he stroked him. It was encouraging that he was already hard; it didn't completely remove Ed's worry that Roy was only doing this for their benefit, but it helped provide some ammunition against that fear.

Mustang's legs were pinned beneath Ed, and his eyes had begun to take on a glassy sort of dazed look as Ed's oiled fingers worked over his cock. His unsteady, rapid breathing was interrupted with a frustrated groan when Ed abruptly ceased and let go, not intending to bring him to climax just yet.

"You're getting too overconfident in your belief that I'm predictable, Mustang," Ed told him as he leaned forward and nipped at his bottom lip. "That's why you're the one at my mercy." Very precious little could stand a chance at making Ed keep that smug, arrogant grin off his face.

"Or maybe you're doing exactly what I set you up for." It would have sounded more believable if not for that shuddering hitch to his breath underneath his words.

"Uh-huh. You're usually a better liar than this." Ed leaned forward, laying against Mustang's bared chest, and thrust his hips lightly to rub his cock against Mustang's well-oiled one. The action prompted a groan from the older man, and his body tensed in response. Anything further said was pushed aside when Ed kissed him, rough and hard and demanding, and fumbled around for the oil bottle to dump more on his fingers. With his weight settled on Mustang, Ed reached behind and readied himself, then changed his position to brace his weight back on his automail hand.

There still remained the problem of how he was going to get Mustang's cock inside of him; simply lowering onto it wasn't quite working and braced backward on one hand made it rather impossible to angle himself right to use his other. He tried leaning forward so he could reach down between them, but either the alignment was wrong or the lack of experience was becoming problematic. The quiet chuckle he heard from Mustang made his face overheat, and Ed shut his eyes, desperately wishing there was some dignified way out of the predicament he'd gotten himself into.

"You could always release my hands, you know," he pointed out, smirking wider in amusement.

Ed muttered a vague and obscene opinion -- either of Mustang or the situation as a whole, he wasn't sure -- under his breath as he scowled. "Not a chance." He just needed more time to figure out how to proceed.

Unfortunately, there weren't a whole lot of options to match up with what he wanted. He did rather like the way it had felt with Roy inside him, and he wasn't terribly confident about changing things so much that the other man would be on the receiving end of things. It was time to compromise. Ed clapped his hands together and leaned forward to put them on the floor next to the pseudoshackles.

"Change your mind?" Roy asked, still with that damnable smirk on his face as alchemical energy crackled around them.

"Not quite." One of Mustang's arms was released, but the other one was restrained more, as well as wood forming over his ankles. Ed grinned. "There. Now you can be useful without trying any--" He paused, and reached into Mustang's pockets on the free arm's side, and tossed his gloves out of reach, grinning wider. "Without trying any tricks."

"You don't trust me? I'm hurt."

"You're a devious bastard, I thought we agreed on that."

Mustang arched an eyebrow. "When was this?"

"Oh, right. You weren't there when Riza and I decided on that."

"I'm going to get you both."

"Not right now, you're not. Now make yourself useful."

"'Make yourself useful', he says. Did anyone ever tell you that your pillow talk is dismally lacking, Fullmetal?"

"You're the first to complain."

"If this is your idea of romance, I won't be the last."

"Nah, it's just for you."

"I'm touched."

"Quit talking and make it literal already."

"We have really got to have a discussion later about your ideas of romance," Mustang said as he moved his hand down between them while Ed resumed his former position.

"Says the guy who uses insults for a come on." Ed closed his eyes and bit his lip as a heated shudder uncoiled from around the base of his spine at the pressure demanding entrance. He almost lost his balance when his nerves tangled up into a crackling mess at the sound of Roy's groan as his cock pushed inside Ed. His muscles relaxed and soon the other man was buried to the hilt inside him, and Roy reached for him.

Ed smacked his hand away. "Put your hand down," he ordered, his voice husky from the effort to speak.

Roy complied and attempted to smirk, but the expression evaporated as he gasped, a shudder making his hips buck upward against Ed. The motion triggered a cascade of shattering fire along his nerves, causing him to close his eyes and suck in a shaky gasp. His cock twitched, aching for contact, and with fingers still somewhat oil-slicked, he gripped it and began to stroke himself. Ed felt Roy shudder beneath him, and he opened his eyes, meeting the other man's lust-glazed stare, and shifted his weight to press down on his hips.

Mustang bit his lip, muffling a groan as he responded in kind, thrusting up into Ed with what little leverage he had left. The control and sensations triggered a heady cascade along Ed's nerves, making him short of breath. Determined to get him off first, to not let the tables turn even a fraction in Roy's direction, Ed released his cock and moved his flesh hand behind them as well, sliding it down until his fingers made contact with the other man's balls, teasing them until the controlled thrusting became increasingly spastic, and Roy's breathing was ragged.

It was getting easier to ignore his own need for release with the distraction Roy offered. Ed couldn't remember ever seeing him quite like this before, not even when they were Riza, because even then, the older man was still always in control. Not so much anymore. One hand and both feet bound, unable to do much more than squirm there, and rake his fingers down Ed's thigh, his face flushed and breathing quick and shallow, mingling with groans of pleasure.

Ed stroked his fingers along his own cock again, less in effort toward his own release and more to underscore his control over their encounter, and he was rewarded as Roy's entire body tensed, his hips bucking upward hard and quick, and dark eyes rolled back in his head just before they closed. There wasn't much a risk of anyone overhearing them, which was a blessing for how loudly he cried out as he climaxed. Ed let himself surrender to the molten electric feeling tangling up his nerves and making his head swim, and began to stroke himself off in earnest as he thrust down onto Roy's spasming cock.

Mustang was just starting to come down from his orgasm when Ed felt like he was choking on his ability to breathe, his own cry airy and ragged as he came. Shockwaves of pleasure spiraled upward along his spine from his cock, and he felt dizzy and dry-mouthed as he stared down at him, watching the hot splatters of come land on Mustang's chest and face.

He could feel his softening cock twitch a few more times inside of him, then carefully leaned forward and braced his hands on either side of Mustang's head to drag his tongue over the other's chest. He could only manage a few licks; he was too breathless, too dizzy, too shaky and tangled up and moved forward enough for his cock to slide out of him, and kissed him with a sated hunger.

Roy's grip on his hair was weak as he kissed him back, breathing hard against Ed's lips.

Now that the haze was beginning to fade, the awkwardness crept back in. What would Mustang say? And what, for that matter, should Ed do or say? It had been easier with Riza -- those three small words didn't feel quite so out of place. But he wasn't willing yet to open himself up that much to Roy. Not until he could meet the man on equal ground. It was too far outside the comfortable familiarity of their usual reactions, and with so much changing, the familiarity was needed.

"And now I know what strategy to watch out for next time," Roy murmured.

Ed almost laughed, and wanted to kiss the man for helping provide a comfort zone of banter. Instead, he slugged him on the shoulder and scowled as he rolled off. "Jackass. Knowing what might be coming won't help you, you're too slow to keep up with me."

Roy sat up, rubbing his wrist after Ed transmuted the floor back to normal. "Speed might have its uses, but strategy always wins in the end."

Ed snorted and picked up his shirt. "Yeah, Mustang. Sure. Keep telling yourself that. You sure won that one."

"Even the victor of a war can lose a battle once in a while."

"I'll remind you that you said that, 'cause you're not gonna win again."

A slow smirk appeared on Mustang's lips as he got to his feet. "This is already shaping up into a very interesting weekend."

- end

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