Eheheheheheh, this is practically a sequel to my first fic in the fandom, which I am, theoretically, writing an expansion of, so I guess this is a part of that...darn similar bunnies... ^^;;;;
Only semi-porn, sorry! but they're, like, naked and stuff... ^^;;;;;;;
*
Ed, Roy discovered, liked his baths as hot as his showers. The little room was like a sauna; Roy had stripped too, hair damp with sweat and fog. Ed sat slumped up to his shoulders in the steaming tub, eyes half-lidded, hair coppery wet and slicked to his skull with the ends roaming free in the water, flushed a painful-looking pink with sweat pouring down his neck.
His left hand was clutching his automail, white-knuckled. His legs were drawn up as far as he could without breaking the surface. His face was blank with contemplation. Something had gone wrong on the last mission--both the brothers had been quieter than usual, but it showed far more with Ed--and he wasn't talking about it.
Ed, it seemed, had a dislike for soap; he'd ignored the bottles of gels and scents which had proved so useful for seductions in the past and left the water pure and clear, unshielded by bubbles with country-boy blitheness. He looked perhaps half-hard; Roy wondered at the reasons, though, of course, he was sixteen, at the very peak of hormones.
Steam swirled sparkling in the overhead light, settled over the mirror in a fine haze, and when Roy looked down, there were tiny droplets peppering each fine dark hair on his arm--and it was a shame, he thought, that Fullmetal's hair was already wet, because otherwise that gold would be peppered with silver and diamonds.
"It's getting cold," Ed muttered. Roy started after all the silence, drew a deep breath of watery hot air. He was wearing his underwear and one glove, and that was it; he snapped, blue flames flickered for a moment against the bottom of the tub, and Ed said, "Great, thanks," and sunk back into his sulk.
"You called my name," Roy said quietly, at last. "In the shower."
Ed's eyes went wide. Then he flushed brilliant scarlet, flailed a little, splashing water on the floor. "You...saw me?!"
Roy almost ignored it. "Or my title, at any rate. I assumed it referred to me..."
He got one flick of a wide-eyed golden stare before Ed turned away, even redder, and that was the answer to that, at least. "I thought," Ed mumbled after a moment, "you were just...I don't know..."
"Trying to cheer you up after an obviously difficult mission?"
"Trying to bribe a report out of me?"
"I do have a job to do."
There was that stare again, angry now, and then Ed bit his lip, cursed--and there was that infamous, groundshaking, Fullmetal determination. "Look, shit-Colonel, don't fuck around. Either get out or," and he splashed the water with steel hand, "get in."
Said with such blind confidence that he must not expect the challenge to be answered.
Roy hesitated, thought of marching blind through the gates of old man commanding officer hell, wondered if he needed to be drunk to do this, realized that if Ed actually didn't want him he'd punch his face in and leave it at that, contemplated how he'd explain the bruises to Hawkeye were that the case, stripped off glove and underthings, and slid gingerly into the steaming water, catching his breath at the heat.
Ed, not entirely to his surprise, refused to fold up his legs, with the result that Roy had to insinuate himself between them, steel knee pressed against his side. Water overflowed to the floor with the extra displacement; then splashed with the extra movement as Ed lurched forward, grabbed his ears, and kissed him with devouring awkwardness, teeth to his lips, and it hurt, but it was hardly, entirely, bad.
Roy lurched, swayed in Ed's grip, felt the blood tumbling from his head to his cock.
"Too hot for you, old man?" Ed whispered when he finally, finally let go.
Roy almost laughed, sweat beading all down his face and neck and back. "Yes."
"But I don't see you getting out," Ed snorted.
"No," Roy breathed, and when he looked down this time Ed was very, very hard. "No, you don't."
And then Ed grinned--worries gone, at least, though Roy still didn't expect a report any time soon--and they came together like moths to a flame, faint and sweating and bruising hard.
no subject
Only semi-porn, sorry! but they're, like, naked and stuff... ^^;;;;;;;
*
Ed, Roy discovered, liked his baths as hot as his showers. The little room was like a sauna; Roy had stripped too, hair damp with sweat and fog. Ed sat slumped up to his shoulders in the steaming tub, eyes half-lidded, hair coppery wet and slicked to his skull with the ends roaming free in the water, flushed a painful-looking pink with sweat pouring down his neck.
His left hand was clutching his automail, white-knuckled. His legs were drawn up as far as he could without breaking the surface. His face was blank with contemplation. Something had gone wrong on the last mission--both the brothers had been quieter than usual, but it showed far more with Ed--and he wasn't talking about it.
Ed, it seemed, had a dislike for soap; he'd ignored the bottles of gels and scents which had proved so useful for seductions in the past and left the water pure and clear, unshielded by bubbles with country-boy blitheness. He looked perhaps half-hard; Roy wondered at the reasons, though, of course, he was sixteen, at the very peak of hormones.
Steam swirled sparkling in the overhead light, settled over the mirror in a fine haze, and when Roy looked down, there were tiny droplets peppering each fine dark hair on his arm--and it was a shame, he thought, that Fullmetal's hair was already wet, because otherwise that gold would be peppered with silver and diamonds.
"It's getting cold," Ed muttered. Roy started after all the silence, drew a deep breath of watery hot air. He was wearing his underwear and one glove, and that was it; he snapped, blue flames flickered for a moment against the bottom of the tub, and Ed said, "Great, thanks," and sunk back into his sulk.
"You called my name," Roy said quietly, at last. "In the shower."
Ed's eyes went wide. Then he flushed brilliant scarlet, flailed a little, splashing water on the floor. "You...saw me?!"
Roy almost ignored it. "Or my title, at any rate. I assumed it referred to me..."
He got one flick of a wide-eyed golden stare before Ed turned away, even redder, and that was the answer to that, at least. "I thought," Ed mumbled after a moment, "you were just...I don't know..."
"Trying to cheer you up after an obviously difficult mission?"
"Trying to bribe a report out of me?"
"I do have a job to do."
There was that stare again, angry now, and then Ed bit his lip, cursed--and there was that infamous, groundshaking, Fullmetal determination. "Look, shit-Colonel, don't fuck around. Either get out or," and he splashed the water with steel hand, "get in."
Said with such blind confidence that he must not expect the challenge to be answered.
Roy hesitated, thought of marching blind through the gates of old man commanding officer hell, wondered if he needed to be drunk to do this, realized that if Ed actually didn't want him he'd punch his face in and leave it at that, contemplated how he'd explain the bruises to Hawkeye were that the case, stripped off glove and underthings, and slid gingerly into the steaming water, catching his breath at the heat.
Ed, not entirely to his surprise, refused to fold up his legs, with the result that Roy had to insinuate himself between them, steel knee pressed against his side. Water overflowed to the floor with the extra displacement; then splashed with the extra movement as Ed lurched forward, grabbed his ears, and kissed him with devouring awkwardness, teeth to his lips, and it hurt, but it was hardly, entirely, bad.
Roy lurched, swayed in Ed's grip, felt the blood tumbling from his head to his cock.
"Too hot for you, old man?" Ed whispered when he finally, finally let go.
Roy almost laughed, sweat beading all down his face and neck and back. "Yes."
"But I don't see you getting out," Ed snorted.
"No," Roy breathed, and when he looked down this time Ed was very, very hard. "No, you don't."
And then Ed grinned--worries gone, at least, though Roy still didn't expect a report any time soon--and they came together like moths to a flame, faint and sweating and bruising hard.