Full Metal Alchemist, "Name-Calling," Edward/Roy, NC-17

Mistress Quickly: Um ... I don’t write Edward/Roy anymore, remember?

Bunny: *grin*

Mistress Quickly: But I don’t WANT to write Edward/Roy. Let sky_dark write them. She’s way better at it.

Bunny: *grin* *bares teeth*

Mistress Quickly: Okay, okay, don’t get your fur in a wad over it ...

This is NC-17 for sex, and I SWEAR I don’t write this pairing any more. Jeez.


Name-Calling

by Mistress Quickly

“I don’t want to be called ‘Full Metal’ anymore.”

Roy stroked a long, slender finger down Edward’s chest, tracing the ridge of each rib. “Oh? Why is that?” he said.

Edward tapped his lover’s eye-patch with the tip of his metal index finger. “Because the man who named me that took this from you,” he said. “Because the man who named me that tried to take you away from me.”

Roy laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made Edward blush, even after he’d heard it in bed, countless times. “You’re adorable sometimes, Edward, did you know that?”

That earned him a frown. “I’m being serious, Roy. I’m going to apply for a new name. You may be the Fuhrer, but you’re also my lover. Surely you could do this one thing for me?”

Then Roy was kissing him, pressing him back into the mattress with the weight of his body, his hands wandering down Edward’s body, bringing nerve-endings to life with almost ticklish touches, all the way down to the scars where Edward’s automail leg joined his flesh, just above the knee. The boy jerked, instinctively trying to get away from the touch there, only there.

“Will you stop being ‘Elric’ as well, then?” Roy murmured against Edward’s lips, hand lingering still over the rough, scarred skin. “Will you stop being the son of the man whose notes led you to lose your limbs, to sacrifice everything to regain the brother you lost because of his research?”

Edward pushed against his lover’s chest, met resistance, and pushed harder. Only when Roy was sprawled gracelessly in the floor, reaching for him as he dressed quickly, did he turn and speak.

“I gave up being that man’s son years before my mother died, Roy,” he growled, smacking Roy’s hand away. “You just never noticed.”

He was out the door and in the street before Roy managed to get his pants on and chase after him.

“I did notice, Edward,” he said, pulling the struggling boy close and kissing the top of his head. “I’m sorry. I just ... I don’t know. I like the name ‘Full Metal.’ I associate it with you, and if feels like giving something up for me to change it. I already lost you once. Please don’t make me lose you again.”

Edward looked up at him, glaring in the dim light of a nearby streetlamp. “It’s just a name, Roy,” he said. “I’ll still be here, still be me.”

“Okay,” said Roy, smiling sadly and kissing his lover’s lips, just a little, just lightly. “Then come back to bed, please? I’ll change your title in the morning, I promise. Just come back to bed.” He tugged on Edward’s metal wrist and gave the boy his best pleading look until Edward sighed and followed him inside.

They stripped each other quickly, efficiently, and fell onto the bed in a tangle of kisses, hands everywhere until Roy found the bottle of lube they kept in the pillowcase and pressed it into Edward’s hand. He didn’t close his eye, not when Edward pressed a single, slick finger into him. Didn’t close it or look away when Edward pressed forward, sliding his erection carefully into Roy’s slick, prepared entrance, nor when Edward began to move, moaning and arching and tightening and coming. Only when it was over, when he was coming messily into Edward’s tight grip, did he close his eyes, welcoming the darkness of oblivion.

“I love you, Roy,” whispered Edward, sleepy and sated as he dropped a semen- and lube-sticky towel to the floor.

“I love you too, Edward,” said Roy. He waited, listening to his lover’s breathing change pace, then whispered into the darkness, “I love you, Full Metal.”

It felt good to say it, one last time.



~*~*~*~

OMAKE:

Russel: So, Edward. You’re, um, cheating on me in this fic.

Edward: Don’t blame me! It’s so not my fault. And ... ew. Roy’s straight and old and married. Haven’t you read the Mistress’s other stuff?

Russel: (re-reading) Well, he doesn’t seem very married or straight in this one. And he came pretty quick for an old guy.

Roy: Hey! Who’s old?

Mistress Quickly: Shut up, all of you! I wouldn’t have written this if y’all were helping me with Domesticity 12! Jeez. Whine, whine, whine. See if any of you get laid in my next fic!

Russel: (grumbling) Well that’ll be two fics of yours, now, where I don’t get to come. Thanks a freakin’ lot.

Much smacking ensues, and everyone goes off to pout. Except Mistress Quickly, who’s off to write something ... else. Again.