Chapter One: Demerit
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
“Brother, get up! It's the first day of school!” Edward strung a few curses together in a murmur and peeled his eyes open to read the digital clock sitting on his bedstand. It read 6:00. Alphonse was already downstairs making breakfast for them both; Edward could smell the bacon and eggs. He sat up with a groan and rubbed his eyes, yawning.
“Come on, Ed!” came the call.
“Yeah, alright!” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the white bedspread. Half asleep, he stumbled into the walk-in closet and chose a top and some jeans at random. Other kids might care about how they looked, but screw them! It was six in the morning! After much ado with putting his underwear on the wrong way (twice), he chose a simple button-down shirt and jeans, then walked down the stairs, slightly more coherent.
“G'morning,” he said to his brother, who was placing the plates of scrambled egg and bacon on the table.
“Coffee?” Alphonse said, offering him a mug. Ed snatched it eagerly and took a long swig, his brain praising his brother for supplying him with caffeine. With another sip he sat down at the table and ate gratefully. Al joined him within a few seconds, gulping a bit of his orange juice.
“Thanks for breakfast, Al,” Ed said, and yawned.
“Figured you'd want some protein for our first day,” his brother replied kindly. Ed smiled and ruffled his hair.
“My brother, the saint,” he cooed. Alphonse immediately swatted Edward's hand away to fix his hair while Ed chuckled.
“Unlike some people,” his brother shot, “I actually care about how I look on the first day of school!” Edward shrugged.
“Not like I have anyone to impress or anything.”
“What about your teachers,” Alphonse pressed. “Surely you care about them.”
“You can't suck up on the first day, Al,” Ed laughed, “that comes later!”
Edward stepped into the doorway, nervously glancing into the room. There were several rows of desks, each and every one bereft of the customary student. He swore aloud at his luck. He was the first one there. No one liked being the first one in class. And on the first day of school, it was nearly guaranteed to grant you a week's worth of snickers and teasing. He shot his gaze to the teacher's desk. Oh, even better. Before the teacher, too. He sighed and made his way to the middle desk in the front row. Sitting down, he drummed his fingers impatiently, watching the clock move from quarter to seven. As it approached seven, a tall man with coal-black eyes and raven hair walked into the doorway, peeking his head in. He seemed to be the epitome of suave, which for no apparent reason, pissed the boy off. He flicked his eyes to Edward.
And he smirked.
For a moment, Edward blinked, stunned. The guy, whom he had never met before, never even seen before, had the gall to smirk at him! Screw suave, the bastard was fucking unctuous!
“You look a bit short for a junior,” he remarked casually, voice laced with taunting. He continued to smirk, leaning against the arch of the doorway. The insult sank in.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Edward demanded angrily. At that moment, the bell rang and kids began flooding in. The man walked fully into the room carrying a briefcase and Ed felt a pang of dread.
“My name,” he announced to the rapidly appearing class, but staring at Edward, “is professor Roy Mustang.”
Just my luck, he thought angrily, staring at his teacher. Damn, this day is not going well. After learning everyone's names (for which Ed had been asked to mutter his three times), Roy turned around and wrote his name on the chalkboard in PERFECT handwriting.
Yeah, like I'd ever forget you, thought Edward angrily. Bastard. Damn, I hope--
His angry thoughts were interrupted by the giggles and excited whispers of two girls behind him.
“The professor is such a hottie,” one of them whispered.
“Oh my god, I know!” the other breathed. “Just look at him!” Edward became increasingly irritated with each wibbling comment about “Professor Bastard.” Couldn't anyone else besides him tell that the man was a complete asshole? At that moment, Mustang turned around and sat down at his desk.
“Ladies,” he said, addressing the two girls behind Edward, “I'm glad you think so highly of me, but if you could leave your swooning for lunch?” Ed's jaw dropped. The bastard's composure didn't even crack a bit!
Fucking self-obsessed smart-ass --
“And if you could stop gaping like a fish, Mr. Elric?” Ed snapped his jaw shut and glared poison daggers at the smirking man.
“Edward, why don't you give us the answer to the next question?”
“X equals seven,” he muttered. Math, luckily, was a strong point of his. Even still, it was annoying to be picked on; the two girls who had been chittering behind him giggled and his scowl increased.
Why is he picking on me?
Mustang nodded with a smirk, then darted his eyes up to the clock.
“Good,” he said. “OK, class, it's almost the end of the period now. Gather up your belongings.”
“Thank god,” Edward muttered.
“Frankly, Mr. Elric,” Roy said, “I'm glad you're leaving. Your lovely disposition and cheery attitude don't exactly fit in here. Maybe you could be a little more gloomy and grumpy?”
“Well fuck you,” Edward snorted.
And then he paled and remembered who it was he was talking to. Most of the other students were out the door already, but those who weren't stared at him in shock. Mustang's face did a few changes in the next few seconds and Edward documented them in his mind. Dark eyebrows arched elegantly up in gentle surprise before a glint in his eyes changed it to amusement. But the man quickly composed himself, pulling down the corners of his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows just a bit. But the twinkle of amusement never left and it left Edward decidedly angry and oddly on edge.
“I will not allow for such crude profanity in my class,” Roy declared (with a fucking smirk in his voice, Edward noted), “so I am afraid I'll have to give you a demerit.”
“What!” Edward shouted. “Everyone else in class was swearing their heads off and you just looked the other way! What makes me so special?”
“Well,” Roy said, “perhaps if you come to my classroom after school, I'll let you know.” Without a proper retort, Edward furiously gathered the rest of his stuff and jammed it in his bag, storming out the door.
Throughout the rest of the day, he could not stop thinking about the bastard. History (his next subject) was never a strong point of his and it most certainly didn't help that the woman teaching was boring beyond belief. She droned on and on about nothing, it seemed, and Edward was finding it very hard not to fall asleep. His eyes trailed along his textbook, brain not completely processing each word. In the 1840's... rebellion... armies... industry... it was all past his head.
He reluctantly trained his gaze to the professor, currently reading aloud. Ed felt his brain haze even as his eyes were open, and he drifted off into a light doze. Random oddities filled his clouded mind, floating by his subconscious. A corner of paper, numbers, books, a smirk, dark hair--
Ed jolted himself awake angrily.
Bastard won't even leave me alone in my daydreams!
He started at how wrong that sounded, (“sketchy,” they'd call it) and his face flushed before he got a chance to stop it.
It's not like that! he exclaimed inwardly. Eww!
Lunch didn't go much better. Unfortunately, he got second lunch, and no one he knew was in it, forcing him to grab an empty table. Edward bought himself a cheeseburger and sat down, beginning to snarf it down ravenously.
“Well, well, looks like someone's hungry.” Edward winced. He knew that voice. With a sinking feeling, he glared up at The Bastard.
“Mind if I sit here?” Mustang asked, and before Edward could say “yes”, sat down. Knowing any sudden outbursts wouldn't do him much good, Ed kept to himself, containing his anger, boiling like a pot of water, and Mustang was just the fire. The bastard even tried to talk to him, for crying out loud! Like Mustang couldn't anticipate a student he just gave a demerit to being pissed off.
“So what else have you had so far?” Mustang asked pleasantly, taking a bite of his chicken. Edward grunted and engrossed himself in his cheeseburger.
“OK, if I guess right, say so. Science, English, history--”
Edward grunted again. Why the hell was the man even trying? He sure as hell wasn't going to get a word out of him!
“Not going to talk?” Mustang asked, and the smirk was back in his voice. Edward glared up at him. “I suppose we'll just have to talk after school.” After a few more minutes of silent eating, lunch was over. Edward hurried to his next class, glancing back at Mustang, sure that his eyes were on him. But they weren't. The man was simply throwing his trash away, but when he looked up, he smirked at Ed. The boy blushed and quickly looked away, running out of the lunchroom.
The rest of the day was a blur. Phys Ed was right after lunch, and that week's game was soccer. Edward, having played soccer for the majority of his life, was thoroughly disappointed when no one else was as good as he was.
The last block, English, wasn't much better. His teacher, a guy named Professor Thomas, seemed to favor rote memorization and copying words over and over again to remember them. By the time class was over, Ed was sure his hand had turned to pudding. When the bell finally rang, he rushed out the door gladly, but soon recalled his afterschool “appointment” with his math teacher. Thankfully, the math wing was directly above the English wing, so he didn't have too far to walk, but the sheer embarrassment of staying afterschool made the trip long and grueling. When he reached the door, he gulped and strode in.
It wasn't until he reached the middle of the classroom that he realized Professor Mustang wasn't even there. Ed blinked in surprise and looked around again to make sure the bastard wasn't hiding and planning to jump out and scare the shit out of him. That seemed the kind of thing he would do. Shrugging inwardly, he walked back to the door.
No sense staying if the bastard isn't here.
He nearly walked into the man on his way down the hall. Mustang grinned brightly like he hadn't just gotten caught sneaking out of a demerit.
“Ah, Edward,” he smiled, “glad you could make it.” The bastard continued to walk, turning Edward by his shoulders and walking him into the classroom. Ed scowled and made his way grudgingly to his seat, glaring daggers at the bastard.
“Proud of yourself?” Mustang asked, sitting down at his desk, smirk dancing on his lips. “You got a demerit on the first day of school.” Ed scowled and leaned back in his seat.
“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” he said sarcastically.
“Why, you're very welcome,” replied Roy, smiling. “I'm just so very glad you could donate some of your valuable time to come today.”
“Fucking sadist,” Edward muttered.
“Yes, yes, I am very much enjoying your pain,” Roy sighed. “How absolutely horrible for you to be stuck in a classroom with someone like me.” The taunting tone of his voice coupled with the smirk finally set Edward off.
“How DARE you!” he yelled suddenly, standing up. “In all of my years at school, I've NEVER gotten a demerit until now! You want to know why? Because NONE of my teachers piss me off nearly as much as YOU!” He shook, seething for a moment before continuing. “You-- I HATE you!”
“Well,” Mustang started, still calm and collected, “I don't believe you.” Edward blinked in sheer astonishment for a moment before anger welled up in him again.
“In fact,” the man continued, leaning back in his chair and inspecting his nails, “I've never given a demerit to a student for swearing before. But you're different, Edward. I thought I ought to teach you a lesson. I can tell that your anger covers up your true feelings.” Ed felt a sudden pang of unexplained dread.
What true feelings?
“I saw how you were staring at me in class,” Mustang continued. “You looked angry on the outside, but you studied me like I can tell you don't study your books. Now tell me the truth. Do you really want to leave? Because if you say yes, truthfully, I will let you.” Rage dissipated and melted into surprise. The man was going to let him go? Why? Well, who cared? It was a way out, and no matter how stupid Mustang was for giving it to him, Ed was going to take advantage of it. He opened his mouth defiantly--
He met the man's charcoal eyes suddenly and felt their intensity burn through him and shatter his confidence. The “yes” died in his throat and was replaced by another word he did not expect (or want) to say.
Mustang smiled. “That's what I thought.”
Edward, dumbfounded, just stood there blinking at the man.
What the fuck? Why did I just say no? The man folded his hands and rested his chin upon them, observing Ed through lidded eyes.
“I- I meant yes!” he sputtered, but the triumphant look on Mustang's face told him that it was too late.
“Did you now?” A black eyebrow arching up. “Well, that's odd. Because a moment ago, you seemed pretty confident about your answer.”
“Shut UP!” Ed yelled furiously. “You-- You--” He pointed a finger, shaking in wordless rage. “Everything you say, everything you do!” The pointed finger turned into a fist slamming into the desk next to him. “Everything about you! I hate it ALL!” He stormed towards the door and Mustang's gaze did not follow him, but what he said next stopped the blonde in his tracks.
“You know, they say that there's a thin line between love and hate.” Edward froze in the doorway and paled. His eyes widened and he gripped the doorknob tighter with his left hand.
“What?” he said, voice barely audible.
“Do you want to cross that line, Edward?” Mustang practically purred, and the boy was suddenly very aware of footsteps behind him and the inability to move. A hand on his shoulder and the replay of the man's last words in his head.
Do you want to cross that line?
Oh, to hell with it.
In all honesty, he didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was because he was bored of doing nothing. Maybe his hormones finally spilled over the edge. Maybe it was a way to relieve stress, or tension. But for whatever reason, Edward Elric spun on his heels in a sudden burst of either lust or anger (he couldn't fucking tell anymore), yanked on the man's tie and kissed him.
And it was so good. Their tongues battled in mimicry of their last argument, held together this time by sheer, unadulterated lust instead of rage. It was so utterly satisfying, yet he found himself vying for more faster than he could be sated. His fingers tangled in dark hair as he pushed deeper into the kiss, desperate for more, more and more and more. The professor seemed completely unsurprised by Ed's sudden change in heart; in fact, Ed was certain he was smiling into the kiss, but in a moment he was too far gone to care. God, the man obviously knew what he was doing, indulging Edward's frantic tongue with his own, graceful strokes. A hand slid down his side to his waist, another stroking at the nape of his neck. Animalistic desire overwhelmed him; only the most basic feelings were conveyed to his lust-blurred brain.
A rough growl from Roy and his back was pushed against the wall. The pressure against Ed's spine caused him to arch up, into the man above him. Their tongues and bodies melded again, fingers digging in enough to bruise, the inability to remain still. This fierceness which he had never experienced before, it was so... delicious, for lack of a better word. But even so, fierce deliciousness was followed by fierce hunger and a fierce ache that spread from his groin all throughout his entire body, leaving a tingling of want and he was forced to break away. Roy took this as an opportunity to attach his mouth to a slender neck, and was well rewarded by a deep groan. Ed clasped on to the back of the man's head and drew it nearer.
“Fuck me,” he hissed, followed by a pant as teeth found his ear.
“Are you sure?” it was breathed. Ed screwed his eyes shut and tried to stop his head from spinning.
“Don't play with me...” he growled in a husky tone. “God, just do it...”
“Oh, do you want God to do it or me?” Roy purred, snaking fingers down in between his legs, and Edward arched frantically up to the touch. “Say my name,” it was demanded of him softly, tips of fingers stroking lightly over the bulge in his pants. “Go on, say it.”
“Roy,” he pleaded in between gasps, hands scrambling on the man's back. He was rewarded by having his shirt ripped off, each button popped uselessly to the floor, then undershirt peeled away revealing sweat-slicked flesh underneath. His skin worshiped by a hot mouth and Ed arched closer with a groan, bringing his hands to the man's own chest and tearing at the fabric of his shirt feverishly. Roy shrugged it off without the barest of hesitation while deftly unbuttoning the boy's dark jeans, unzipping them and freeing his arousal, visible even through his boxers. Hands teased him to an aching hardness till he thought his cock would split, and then somehow his boxers were drawn down and tossed aside. Roy descended on the naked body below him, exploring each inch with lips and tongue and hands and fingers. Edward writhed under each touch, warmth and friction driving him insane. Fingers dug into the man's neck angrily and golden eyes rolled back.
“Don't... tease me.” It was meant to be hissed, but it came out as a groan when a tongue found one of his hardened nipples. Half lidded charcoal eyes smoldered at him as Roy's hand stroked down his abs to give Edward what he demanded. It wrapped around his straining cock and the boy stifled a scream. Blood thundered in his ears and he was sure he was either in heaven or hell, though it was becoming more hellish with each moment that passed when Roy didn't move his hand. He tried desperately to buck and create friction, but the man's grip was too tight.
“Well?” Whispered lowly into his ear, the first remark in a while.
Edward let out a wild sound then, a ragged and rough groan, a savage vocalization of his aggravation, his arousal, his lust. Then, finally, Roy's hand slid along his shaft and he knew he wasn't going to last long. He desperately tried to hold orgasm off as long as he could, teeth clenched and eyes shut tight, but it was a futile effort. He couldn't stop his hips from thrusting any more than he could stop his heart from beating. The pleasure burning inside of him, it was just too much, felt too good. After the third stroke, he came with a hoarse whine, tossing his head back, ponytail whipping around. Roy purred into his ear, tasting the shell of it before pulling back. Edward peeled his eyes open to stare blearily back at the man.
That's it? He had gotten himself this far, and damnit, he would finish it! Head still reeling from climax, he tried to form words, trying to make the man see that that was not enough, but Roy didn't notice. Finally, he gathered up the strength to feebly reach out again for him, this time grabbing for the belt masking the man's erection. He felt his own cock stir again. Roy's hand caught his wrist and fixed him with a questioning – if not disbelieving – gaze. Edward jerked his hand free.
“I tell you to fuck me and you give me a freaking hand job,” he hissed, “Maybe I should reword: I. Want. You. Inside me.” His own voice sounded so unlike him; rough, deeper, husky. Shock flickering in dark eyes and a bit of a shiver before a lazy (and somewhat hungry?) smile settled into place.
“With that kind of request, how can I refuse?” he purred.
It was an interesting position, actually. Edward sprawled naked on the floor near the door, undoing the man's pants while Roy kneeled between his spread legs. But neither had the patience for frivolence, both harboring an aching problem beetween their legs. Roy took the boy's left hand and brought it up to his lips, dragging the tip of his tongue from the base of his index finger to the tip. He groaned and his grip tightened on the man's belt as he pulled it through the loops, the wetness on a sensetive part of his body that wasn't in between his legs driving him nearly insane. Thankfully, Roy seemed to sense this, for he guided the hand back to his pants and helped it undo the button and zipper. Edward felt a grin infect his face as he did so, until it nearly split it in two when he yanked down the man's pants.
Roy took on a different personality when he was naked in the face of another. More urgent, less formal. No time was wasted as flesh came on flesh, chests sliding together, teeth scraping along his jawline, ticklishly light then bruising. His muscles tensed, tensed, then Roy turned them to butter as his fingertips slid over them. As Edward gasped, the man moaned, buried his head in Ed's shoulder. Mustang's hands never stopped moving, always roaming his body, nonstop friction. Edward soon learned to mimic him, exploring the unknown flesh of a lover's body. Their lips and tongues came together again, extracting a hitched breath on Edward's part. Roy slid his hands up the boy's arms and snaked his own fingers in between Ed's. Hand's clasped together, Mustang straddled him, naked groin against naked groin and the man couldn't help bucking. Edward broke the kiss to gasp at the sensation and was transfixed by the vision of Roy's naked hips moving against his. He clung desperately to the sweat slicked body above him, arms around neck and clawing at his back.
Do it, please just--
“Fuck me,” he groaned. “How many times are you going to make me ask?” And, miracle upon miracles, Roy stopped grinding. Now, Instant-Gratification-Horny-Edward screamed obscenities at this outrage, but Productive-Horny-Edward screamed at Instant-Gratification-Horny Edward to just quit bitching and wait because it would be better if he did. Ed's cock sided stubbornly with Instant Gratification, but Edward himself sided with the latter, having just enough common sense left in him to know that he was right. Seemingly sensing an internal struggle within the boy, Roy comforted all sides by grabbing Edward's aching cock (which he swore began to sing “Hallelujah”) and parted Ed's lips with two fingers of his other hand, the boy obediently sucking on them. Unfortunately it took longer than it needed to get them wet with all the moaning he did, but when the deed was finally done, Mustang wasted no time. He took one lubricated finger and slid it gently over Edward's entrance, letting the muscles relax enough to accept it.
He wasn't going to lie. It didn't feel good. He grimaced, split between the feelings of pleasure from a hand around his cock and the uncomfortableness of a finger up his ass. Roy was patient and gentle, however, and before he knew it, one finger was all the way in. He was adjusting slowly, pleasure overwhelming pain, or at least until he felt another finger stretching him. Edward grimaced.
This had better be as good as they say, for all this damned preparation. And just as he thought it, he knew it to be true; Roy's fingers hooked and moved in a circle and he took a frantic breath, eyes rolling back.
HARDER. His first instinctive thought. Pleasure curled into his groin, pleasure like he'd never felt before. Teeth nibbling affectionately at his ear again. A third finger added without consequence. Roy pressed again and he sobbed outright. His hips thrust instinctively back, but he knew that he didn't want just fingers. He wanted Roy.
“I... I need...” He wasn't able to complete his plea as another wave of pleasure overcame him, cutting him off with a sharp gasp.
“Just fucking take me already!” he grated out, becoming thoroughly impatient. “I'm ready – AH! -- please!” Finally the fingers slid free of him, hand leaving his cock in favor of urging the boy onto his knees. He complied without a second thought, body aching with need. A moment of breathing, a hand gingerly laid on his shoulder.
“OK?” Edward closed his eyes.
Heat and pressure on his ass. He moaned despite himself, the head of Roy's cock sliding past the ring of muscle. Screwing up his face, he forced himself to relax.
“Good, Edward.” Moaned from behind him. Kneading on his hips. “Just relax... That's the worst...” Further in. His body wanted to reflexively tighten, but he held it off, knowing the man wouldn't appreciate it. It hurt, yes, but he didn't care. He wanted it too badly.
Each inch seemed to take forever, but soon, he felt the man's naked thighs against his butt and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
“My God,” it was whispered from behind him. A sweaty, trembling palm was smoothed over his stomach, sending shivers down his spine as the man's stomach molded with his back. The groan behind him vibrated all the way through the Mustang's frame to his. A gentle thrust and pressure on a certain spot inside his body.
Edward's eyes popped wide and he moaned.
“Again,” he demanded breathlessly, common sense and coherency rapidly draining. “Again!” One arm splayed outward and one propping him up at the elbow, he whined and bucked backwards, forcing the man's cock to hit that spot inside of him that drove sparks of pleasure up his spine. All he could think of was how much he wanted that again, harder, faster--
Too many words to convey his needs. Another thrust and his body decided on a keening whimper, throwing in a tremor. His body began to warn him violently that it needed, so his outstretched hand migrated down to his own hardness, but Mustang snatched it away.
“Mine,” he said roughly, gripping it. Ed nearly screamed out a sob and ground backwards as hard as he could.
Pleasure like nothing he'd ever felt before, not even from this encounter, each fiber of his body aching to be brought to completion. Roy pounded into him, chin on his shoulder, stroking his cock and murmuring, moaning, begging into his ear. He felt climax building inside of him, his fingers digging into his palm as Roy's free hand stroked up and down his splayed arm. Each thrust drove him nearer to climax, each word from the lips perched on his shoulder pushed him further towards ecstacy, and it was so good, so fucking good...
His toes curled and he arched violently as he came, teeth gritted and letting out a wordless groan. Two more thrusts and Roy released as well, warmth blossoming in him, not the most pleasant sensation, but considering the orgasm he just had, he was willing to overlook that, plus pretty much anything else that happened in the next few hours. He collapsed finally, shuddering as his body wrung out each tiny drop of residual pleasure from his veins. The man lay on his side next to Edward, crooning things into his ear like, “that was so good,” and “you were amazing.” They lay like that for a few minutes, Edward's head in the man's chest and Roy stroking his stomach, before the boy sat up with a (decidedly nonsexual) groan. The reality of the situation hit him with an uncomfortable suddenness, and a blush spread over his features.
“Alphonse'll be waiting,” he muttered. “My brother,” he added quickly, remembering that the man didn't know who Al was. Roy sighed and hauled himself off the ground, eying the strewn clothes.
“I think the showers are still on,” Roy offered. “If you want to clean up.” Edward shook his head and began to pick through the piles, finding two sets of identical boxers.
“Apparently we have the same taste in underwear,” he remarked. “Which ones are yours?” Roy shrugged casually, Edward noticed, as if they hadn't just had sex, or if they didn't just do it in his classroom.
“Which ones are smaller? They're probably yours. And I know that for a fact, now.” Edward, not having the stamina or brainpower to think of a proper retort, simply stuck his tongue out.
“'M home!” he called. “Going upstairs to take a nap.” Dumping his school bag onto the green couch next to the door, he yawned and rubbed his eyes, walking towards the staircase.
“Where were you?” Edward stopped, nearly walking into his brother, who was blocking the stairs with hands on hips.
“Just an afterschool thing,” he lied quickly. Alphonse didn't look convinced.
“I can't believe a teacher made you stay after on the first day!” he exclaimed. “You're always getting yourself into trouble!”
“I've never gotten a demerit in my life until now!” Edward retorted, then quickly shut his mouth.
“A demerit!” Al exclaimed, waving his arms in the air. “What for!”
“Nothing!” he snapped. “C'mon, I need a nap!”
“More like a shower,” Al scoffed, but he got out of his brother's way. “You stink.” Edward thankfully ran up the stairs into his bedroom, fatigue quickly catching up with him as his head hit the pillow.
- Current Mood: sleepy