Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
It wasn't until he got home and settled down with a glass of scotch did he fully realize the extent of his mistake.
You fucked your sixteen year old student.
Roy winced at the accusation he'd brought upon himself and leaned his forehead on the rim of the glass. He really hadn't meant for it to go that far. It started as a joke, one small teasing comment that spiraled out of control to an after school make-out session complete with the loss of Edward's virginity.
He asked me for it! he tried to reason, pleading with his conscience. He begged for it! I wouldn't have done it otherwise, I swear!
But you did do it.
Why he always had to be so logical, Roy did not know.
There was no denial in Edward's mind about what happened. He'd been defeated by the truth after thinking about it when he got home. The facts were straight (or, rather, not so straight): he had kissed the bastard first, he had asked to be fucked. The question was why. Why was it that he had that much pent-up sexual frustration that he'd beg to be completely and utterly fucked by his male adult teacher? He'd never been really interested in anyone before, especially not men. Why did his body suddenly decide to wake up then?
Edward rolled over in his bed and eyed the clock. 10 o'clock already. He sighed. He'd been mulling this over for longer than he thought. He wasn't going to get any sleep, at this rate.
He flipped over again and tried to calm his restless mind. And yet oddly, the most calming image in his head was lying beside the bastard that day, having his naked stomach rubbed comfortingly after the most thrilling orgasm in his sixteen-year-old life.
“Care to explain the bodily fluids on the floor last night?” Roy winced and met the eyes of his friend, currently leaning on a mop.
“No?” he ventured. The dark haired man sighed in exasperation and adjusted his janitor's cap.
“You know, Roy,” Maes Hughes said, “None of this would happen if you just settled down and got yourself a wife.” Roy rolled his eyes. The speech was long dull the first hundred times, thank you.
“So, who was it?”
The question caught Roy off guard. He hadn't exactly planned on needing an alibi.
“Was it Maria?” Hughes pressed.
“No, I- Look, I'd rather not-”
“Oh, experimenting, are we?” Hughes' eyes gleamed merrily. “I knew you enjoyed our college days more than you let on! It's Jean, isn't it? I've got ten bucks riding on it!”
“No, Maes, I-” Roy stopped. “People are betting on who I'm fucking?”
“Just a couple other janitors 'n' me,” Hughes assured him. “Nothing big, really.” Roy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“So...” Maes said after a moment, rocking onto his heels. “Was it Falman?”
“You gonna tell me, or what?”
He was still grading papers when Edward arrived. The blond made a big production of walking to his seat without catching Roy's eye. He even managed to take out a piece of paper and copy down the problems on the board without blushing.
“Good morning,” Roy ventured, and received little more than a grunt in response. He mentally shrugged and decided not to push his luck.
That's more than I expected. Hell, if it had been him, he wouldn't have even come to school today. A few more minutes passed, and though the silence was about as awkward as you could get, Roy suspected attempting to force Edward into conversation might be like getting into negative ratios.
The next two to come in were the two girls who sat behind Edward, Julia and Megan. They walked in the door, took one look at Roy, and started to giggle and blush, walking to their seats. Seriously, you'd think he had no clothes on, the way they looked at him. In fact, as more people began to filter in, the only person blushing more than them was Edward, who had his nose buried in work and only looked up to meet Roy's gaze every couple minutes before whipping his eyes back down. Roy decided not to question it.
At last the bell rang. It gave him an excuse to get up from his seat and close the door. He cleared his throat.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said, sitting back down. “How are-”
“FINE,” Edward snapped, then seemed to realize that he was the only one talking and buried his face back in his algebra book. A corner of Roy's mouth perked up, but he forced it down.
“Good morning, Professor,” chimed Julia and Megan. Roy's eye twitched. The uber suck-up routine was getting very old, very fast.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said a bit uneasily, earning scandalized giggles from the two of them. Mustang groaned inwardly and turned to the blackboard, glancing back at his class notes for the day. He scribbled a few equations on the board and explained how to solve them. He also managed to dodge the poison glares that Edward shot at him with grace, and succeeded in keeping the two girls in check as well. About five minutes before the bell rang, Roy announced that class was over and sat down greatfuly.
Whoever said “First day is the worst, second is the best” is a fucking idiot. He sighed as the class turned into an unorganized jumble, except for Edward, who seemed intent on burning a hole through his forehead using sheer willpower.
Oh shit, maybe it might help if he stopped smirking.
Mustang mentally cursed himself. It was a subconscious reaction to seeing that scowl, he swore it was! Straightening his face, he motioned Edward over with a jerk of his head. He was going to apologize, if only just to clear his conscience. Arms folded, the blond planted himself in front Roy's desk, sulking glare aimed at the floor.
“Look, Edward, I-”
“I'm sorry,” Ed muttered. Roy blinked in surprise.
“What?” Edward was apologizing to him?
“You heard me,” he said, voice belying a rise in anger from the boy. “I've been a complete asshole. Isn't that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Well, no,” Roy said uneasily. Golden eyes flicked up to him in a suspicious glance. “I wanted to say that I'm sorry about yesterd-”
The bell rang.
Edward wasted no time in spinning around, braid whipping to the side, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door. Roy stared after him, dumbfounded. It was almost as if Edward didn't want him to apologize.
Why did you fucking apologize? Edward screamed in his head. After how I acted yesterday, and what you still did?
He walked into the boy's bathroom, seething, and undid his pants in a rush, fumbling with the buttons.
You're a complete BASTARD.
As he rolled his boxers down to his ankles, he realized how hard and aching he was.
I hate you.
Edward's fingers entwined in downy blond curls. His cock throbbed in impatience as sweat slid down his neck. He wet his lips and leaned his head back, letting out a trembling breath.
Really, I do.
He curled his fingers around the shaft and stroked, biting back chokes and gasps as his eyes slid closed.
But I can't stop--
His hips bucked hard into his hand a few times before he regained control, and he squeezed gently to reward himself, allowing for a quiet moan.
The pad of Edward's thumb stroked over the slit, causing him to sob softly. No... No, it wasn't his thumb anymore, it was that bastard's tongue.
Why do you do this to me?
The methodical pumping of his fist became Roy's mouth, bobbing between his legs. Precome became saliva and Edward's eyes rolled back and his breath caught hard in pleasure of the fantasy.
I don't want to think about you while I'm doing this...
Roy's face smirked at him behind his closed eyelids, Roy's tongue teased the head of his cock and he wet his lips as he felt his climax building.
But no matter how hard I try...
Ohh... So close...
You won't stay out of my mind!
Edward gritted his teeth against a keening whine as he came. He fell out of his body's hard arch against the wall and just panted for a few moments. He stormed out, but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much anger he wanted to feel, he couldn't stop the feeling of contentedness that curled into his limbs and mind.
Roy ate lunch quietly in his classroom that day.
He'd conceded that both he and Edward needed some time to think. Alone.
He... didn't want me to apologize... It was, when it hit him, a realization that filled Roy with the greatest potpourri of emotions he'd ever felt at any given time: relief, joy, anticipation, fear. He didn't know what to think, at this point. But hell, what happened that day could not happen again, no matter what the kid's feelings. He'd given it some thought and decided thoroughly on “well-you-didn't-think-it-through-the-fi
“Oh, god, Roy!”
Well, almost nothing.
Maes Hughes dunked his mop back into the bucket and checked his watch.
Lunchtime. He mentally did a little jig. He hadn't had breakfast that morning, and he'd been waiting eagerly for his lunch break all day! Granted, it wasn't technically his lunch break, but it was someone's; hell, he could sneak in to get a sandwich or something, right?
Hughes nodded to himself. Damn right! And honestly, he was so hungry he didn't think even getting fired for this would make him care.
Maes managed to slip into the lunch line without incident, but he had to fend off the instinct of pushing past all of the students to reach sweet salvation of hunger. It was so tempting to just grunt, “Outta my way”, but in the end his overall nice personality won out over primal hunger.
But only by a little. In fact, Hughes had to convince himself (with the help of teacher aides, much to his embarrassment) not to just scarf the sandwich down before finding a seat. Muttering something about lunch ladies minding their own business, he sat down at the nearest table, across from a blond boy wearing a red coat. Hughes wasted no time in taking a massive bite out of the defenseless sandwich, letting out a near-sexual moan of contentment. The boy eyed him for a moment before resuming eating his own lunch, albeit a bit slower. Hughes finished moments after, letting a dreamy smile settle onto his face.
“They make great sandwiches here,” he remarked, trying to make conversation with his tablemate. The boy shrugged.
“I guess,” he muttered, then seemed to think he'd said too much and turned back to his spaghetti.
“Not big conversationalist, I see,” Hughes remarked. It was ignored. “So... what are your classes?” he prodded, increasingly determined to get a response.
The boy had a distinctive “why-is-this-guy-still-talking-to-m
“Goddammit,” he heard the boy mutter as he left, “why do all my lunches have to suck so much?!”
Ed was still relatively tired by gym class. Lethargy tugged at his body and he considered asking the teacher if he could sit out.
But it was still soccer week. Yesterday might have been lame, but today the coach (a woman named Riza Hawkeye) promised a full scrimmage. As he stood on the perimeter of the gym in line with the other twenty or so students, Ms. Hawkeye blew her whistle.
“Okay!” she said, yelling from the middle of the gym. “We'll be picking teams today for a scrimmage! Edward and Tim, you're team captains. Choose your teammates.” Ed walked to the middle of the room with Timothy Peterson, a boy who Edward had played with on the soccer team last year. Tim tucked his shaggy brown hair out of his face and smiled at him.
He tried to grin back, he really did. He only hoped it didn't come out as a grimace.
Edward was panting by the time the match was over and the bell rung. Tim had given him a real run for his money. His gym shirt was officially too sweat stained to wear until it was washed at least twice. Ed gratefully took a shower (though he usually avoided doing so because of the school's general unsanitary) and grudgingly walked to his English class.
He slept through half of it.
Edward hopped on the bus, nodding a hello to the driver. Al grinned wryly at him when he boarded.
“Not staying after today?” he said tauntingly, and shifted so Edward had room to sit down. Ed elbowed him (somewhat) gently.
“Shut up, will you?” he said. “Ask the bus driver to announce it, why don'cha?”
The only thing that stopped him was Edward yanking on his ponytail.
Roy's reluctance to let the boy go scared him. It was like a dark cloud that hung over his head. A big, dark cloud of “oh shit.” More specifically, of “oh shit I'm in love with a student.” Roy leaned back into his leather couch and left the ungraded papers on the glass top coffee table.
I'm reading too much into this, aren't I? He removed his reading glasses and rested them on the table and closed his eyes.
There was only one known remedy to this slump.
Roy opened the drawer to one of the side tables that a lamp was sitting on and drew out a little black book.
Edward walked out of the bathroom, weak-kneed and trembling slightly in afterglow. He wobbled to the couch, clicked his mechanical pencil again and set back to scribbling answers on his homework.
Something was wrong. He was panting after having sex with a woman, and yet he still wasn't satisfied. It was strange, actually, to have her moaning from release, and for it to act as a near turn-off. Damn that kid, damn him for distracting him like this!
He nearly emptied his bottle of scotch that night.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It was a question he would ask himself for the rest of the night.
“I want you inside me.”
You're driving me insane, Elric. And you know, a part of me is liking it.
Roy had officially decided that he had the worst hangover of all time.
For all the world, he could not bring himself to lift himself from the desk. He kept reading the same words on the paper he lay on, repeating them like a mantra in his head to attempt to keep himself awake. “½(x1 – x2)h... ½(x1 – x2)h...”
The door slammed open and a flit of a blond braid passed in the man's peripheral vision.
Roy lifted his head.
“Edward,” he managed as a greeting.
“Professor,” Ed grunted back, directing an angry glare towards his homework. Roy swore he could see the paper cower in fear. They sat in silence for the next few minutes until Roy finally gave in, exasperated.
There is no way I am going to just let this go.
“Edward,” he said, “come here.” The boy did as he was told, albeit reluctantly and with an angry glare that made Roy cringe.
“What?” he ground out from between clenched teeth. Regaining his composure, Roy tossed caution into the wind.
“I am not going to stand for having a student loath me the entire year,” he informed the boy smoothly. “I would sooner have you transferred to another class.” Edward bristled.
“That's what I hate about you,” he hissed. “You think that you're the hottest thing on wheels, don'tcha? And you won't stand for anyone not puppying behind you! That's the reason you fucked me, isn't it? Isn't it?!”
“Well, what is, then?”
Roy remained silent.
The man rose from his seat, eyes narrowed on Ed's face, circling it for a moment. He reached out with one hand and, in one swift motion, cupped it behind the boy's head and brought their lips together, plunged his tongue into Ed's mouth.
Call it a weakness, call it a sin...
But as much as I try to deny it...
I can't help the fact that I...
“I am very attracted to you, Edward,” Roy murmured into the boy's lips after a moment of tongue battling, eyes glittering charcoal slits.
Edward's breath caught and the man savored it, swiped his tongue across the boy's lips one last time and drew back. Ed was left leaning over the desk on tiptoes, hands planted firmly on the edge closest to him, and eyes fluttering open.
The bell rang.
Life sprang back into Ed's features, realizing, in panic, where he was. He made a beeline for his desk, slamming his ass into the plastic seat rather violently in an attempt to kill his growing... problem. He silently cursed Mustang for having that large oak desk to cover him, and oh fuck what he would give for his long red coat right about now! His hand shot up and Roy looked at him quizzically before responding.
“May I go to the bathroom, Professor?” he forced through gritted teeth, face heating up. Mustang was bound to know exactly why he needed to leave, after that freaking session of tonsil-hockey. God, he really hated the man sometimes! And the other times... well... that was for when he was in the bathroom. Alone.
Fortunately for him, Roy merely nodded and suppressed the oncoming smirk. Now was not the time, especially so because he had a half-class of teenagers and a hangover.
Even still, as Edward stiffly raced towards the door, Roy's mind couldn't help straying to the realm of not-safe-for-work thoughts... and exactly what the boy would do when he got in the stall, pants and boxers at his ankles, cock hard in his own hand...
He shook his head in a feeble attempt to pull his mind out of the gutter. But all he could think of was Edward, moaning and golden eyes screwed shut in pleasure...
He cleared his throat nervously and shifted in his seat to accommodate his OWN problem.
“I'll be right back,” he announced half-heartedly, and for all he cared, no one could have heard him. Roy stood up from his desk and walked out the door briskly.
Edward walked in the nearest bathroom and made sure all of the other stalls were empty before choosing the farthest one. He stripped his jeans and boxers off quickly, eager for relief. Ed hissed as he wrapped a hand around himself, stuffing the other into his mouth to stifle the noise.
Fuck, how could the bastard do that to him with a simple kiss? It was a paradox he'd never figure the answer to, and, as he stroked himself, he wouldn't care about for some time.
Roy closed the door to the bathroom quietly behind him and noted, with thankfulness, that only one stall was occupied. He walked up to the door, careful not to make noise, and leaned against the adjacent wall, ears perked intently to catch any noise.
A shuffling of feet, the rustling of pants, oh, flesh sliding along flesh, that sounded nice --
A moan, muffled by something. Roy's heart leapt in glee of the sound. Yes yes, that was good, oh, and a shaky curse as well, and the man's mind instantly went to work trying to picture the scene inside the door in his mind. Yes, he could see it, Edward leaning against the door, pants around his ankles. Hand around his own cock, palms slick with precome and sweat... The thought was delicious and Roy briefly considered walking into one of the other stalls to jack off for himself.
He decided against it when he heard his own goddamned name, and the idea of going into Edward's stall seemed much, much more appealing. But damn, he'd have to time it just right, just when Ed was desperate enough to let the man in. So Roy leaned back against the wall and, for the moment, enjoyed the show.
Ed was lost now, lost in his own fantasy and pleasure. He could almost feel the man's mouth around him, almost see a dark head bobbing between his legs. Ed wrenched his hand out of his mouth and brought it down to help, cupping and pressing his balls in time with his increasingly frantic strokes. God, he was so close, and he bit his lip hard to attempt to muffle any sound.
When he heard a whimper, Roy could no longer contain himself.
“Edward,” purred a familiar deep voice from outside the green stall door, “Do you want help with that?” Ed jumped, startled, yanked violently out of his fantasy, completely horrified being caught. But by who? His mind still had a haze of pleasure over it, and he couldn't quite think straight... God, if he could only place that voice...
Oh my god.
He shivered all over, and despite his fear and horror, he was instantly twice as hard as he'd been fifteen seconds ago. This couldn't be happening, no it could not, the man would not just abandon his class to come catch him masturbating. No, that was implausible, hell, he didn't even hear the man come in!
And mostly because if it did happen, Ed would surely pass out from both shock and lack of blood in parts of his body other than his cock.
“Edward?” There came the velvety voice again, perhaps a tad more concerned this time, though still sensual. Ed's cock jumped at the utterance, and he almost -- almost -- made an angry gesture at it.
And yet curiosity was eating him alive – what if it was the bastard, waiting outside, what if, on the slim chance it was him, the man wanted to pleasure him into a state of near unconsciousness like Edward kept imagining him doing?
Reluctantly and gingerly he unlocked the door and Roy Mustang strode in with a smirk on his face, locking the door behind him.
Ed's eyes nearly crossed. This was crazy... It was some insane dream, some insane, crazy, wonderful dream, and as soon as he woke up, he'd have to run to the laundry room with his soiled sheets in order to avoid his brother.
“Edward,” Roy husked, stroking a hand down the boy's cheek and eyes flicking to his aching groin, “do you want me to help you with that?”
This was insane, this was crazy, this was so different from the other day and this was surpassing all of his fantasies. Two days ago had been tension and desire, hard and fast and new, but this... This was simply different, Roy offering to please him, to satisfy his urge knowing full well that Edward could take care of it on his own. The thought was an unexpected turn-on and all the boy could do in response was gulp as his cock twitched impatience.
Roy leaned closer till their noses were almost touching, black eyes lidded and lust burning within them.
“Well?” came the murmur.
Well, fuck. If it was a dream, he might as well take advantage of it.
“...OK,” Ed managed to whisper shakily. Roy let out that low chuckle he found so sensual and the man kneeled down.
Edward's heart almost stopped.
Mustang wasn't just going to jack him off... he was going to --
All thought in Edward's head was effectively brought to a halt as Roy brought his cock into his mouth.
Edward was about to scream, or cry out, or something, but Roy muted it by reaching up and clamping a hand over the boy's mouth.
We don't need anyone walking in on us, do we? he wanted to say, but couldn't. So instead, the man hummed around Edward's cock, watching the effect it took on the boy. Ed's eyes got wide and he could feel the sob against his hand, had to hold the boy's hips to prevent accidental chokage. Roy went down on him, pressing the boy's cock to the roof of his mouth. Ed's eyes rolled back into his head and his hands managed to find the man's head, securing themselves there. Grunting, Mustang sucked and Edward took in a throaty breath that went straight to Roy's own cock.
Mustang drew back to say something and Ed sobbed and whimpered around his hand, his cock aching for that wet heat again.
“Shh,” Roy crooned, voice almost husky, “If you can be quiet, I'll make it better for you.”
Better? Ed's mind screamed, What can be better than this ROY, go back to sucking me off ROY, please I need it ROY!
But he nodded vigorously, and unclenched his teeth so Mustang could withdraw his hand. The boy instead replaced it with one of his own. Both hands free, Roy gripped Ed's legs and took him in again. It was good, yes it was; having that hot, wet mouth teasing him was driving him insane. After a moment of sucking and humming and making sure the boy wouldn't cum yet, Roy let go of one of Edward's legs. He then took the free hand and slid them below his balls to the flesh behind it. Letting them rest lightly there, Roy continued to lavish Edward with licking and sucking and bobbing, but held back when he knew the boy was about to cum. Though he couldn't speak, Ed was pleading with his eyes and face, please, make me cum, please don't stop, I need it, please...
Roy gave a particularly hard suck and Edward moaned audibly. The man took it as a sign and began to rub his fingers down, the fingers right behind his balls. Ed's eyes got wide and he sobbed, gripping Roy's hair harder.
“Fuck,” he hissed against his hand. Yeah, it felt good. Hell, it was almost like the man was stroking him and sucking him off. Soon, the fingers attained a rhythm in time with his own bobbing head, and Edward was desperately trying to hold back orgasm. It felt too good, too good, he just never wanted it to end. His own fantasy being played out, plus this new element that Roy added into the mix... It was overwhelming. The heat of his mouth, the wetness, plus seeing that dark head between his legs, constantly reminding him that this was real.
Suddenly, he couldn't hold out anymore, and Ed bucked. Roy compensated, relaxing his throat and taking the boy deep. He released the boy's leg in favor of slamming his hand over Edward's mouth, since the boy's own hand had tangled itself in his dark hair, urging him on. Ed let out a muffled half-shout. Wave after wave of pleasure hit him, and he choked, feeling his inevitable orgasm catch up with him. He came and Roy's mouth stayed on him, sucking hard as ever through the hip spasms and even for a few moments afterwards. When the man finally looked up, Edward groaned at the sight: ruffled hair, half-lidded eyes, and a pink tongue slipping out to clean a dribble of white liquid from his lips.
I came in his mouth.
“That was great,” he found himself saying in a hoarse voice. “Really, really great.”
“Mmm, I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Roy replied huskily, “We'll have to do that again sometime.”
“Yeah, yeah we will.”