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Maes woke abruptly, the thought that something was very wrong flooding his mind. He cast around for it, feeling the bed shift under his weight as he moved. An arm slithered over his waist and a soft body pressed tight against his back. Blinking away the dream, Maes tried to gather his memories. The most recent ones involved warmth, an amazing amount of it; lips and fingers and the sweet musk of sex. His fingers twined with the hand, the simple band adorning her finger telling him Riza still slept curled up next to him. Extracting himself from her gently, Maes sat up, spotting the next head and recognizing, even blurrily, Gracia's touseled hair. Roy's place was notably empty; never a good sign.
Sighing, Maes found his glasses and, almost by accident, a pair of trousers that fit him in the tangle of clothing on the floor. Tripping over someone's shoes, he swore half under his breath, stumbling out of the room and just remembering to close the door behind him. He hadn't paid much attention to the layout of the house when he'd rushed through it earlier. Ed's room was downstairs, in what Maes considered the basement. He'd caught a glimpse of a kitchen with a wide expanse of counters and a table that was almost big enough to seat everyone currently under the roof. Surely, somewhere within the walls, Winry would have a workshop and there'd be a library that Roy and Alphonse shared and a living room with a huge fireplace, so Roy could show off his alchemic tricks.
But tucked away towards the back of the house, he found his friend and lover perched on a staircase, little more than a ladder built steeply into a wall, one Maes hadn't seen earlier. Maes knew that pose. The way Roy sat, knees to his chest, arms looped around his legs, his toes balancing him on the riser below, his expression achingly haunted.
Standing in front of him, Maes said quietly, "Hey." Agonizingly slow, Roy tilted his head back, exposing his throat, that silky cloud of hair slithering over his bare shoulders. Maes squatted in front of him, elbows braced on his knees. "What's wrong, buddy?"
Roy rocked on his haunches, his voice seeming withdrawn. "I heard Sherman's voice," he said, sounding distant, sounding impossibly young, "and it woke me up."
Maes touched Roy's clasped hands. "It was just a dream," wondering how many times in his life he'd said those words in regards to that bastard, how many times more he'd be forced to say it.
As bitterly cold as an Ishbalan night, Roy said, "Not for Edward." His eyes flickered, steadied, met Maes'. "Not for me."
Sighing, Maes maneuvered so he sat next to Roy, tucking the smaller man against him. Roy's head fell against his shoulder and Maes could feel the faint tremors running through Mustang's body. One night, Sherman had Roy for one night and now, fourteen years later, Maes still picked up the pieces.
Tightening his grip on Roy, Maes pressed a kiss onto the crown of his head. Reacting to the touch, Roy snugged closer, the tip of his tongue flicking out against Maes' throat. "Daddy," Roy mumbled against Maes' skin, "Need my daddy."
Maes swallowed. The plaintive, wicked note in Roy's voice made his balls contract. "Roy," he whispered hoarsely as Mustang's tongue tapped against a pulse point.
"Want my daddy to make it better." Roy rubbed his cheek against Maes' shoulder. "Make me forget."
Catching Roy's chin in his hand, he tilted it up, claiming Roy's mouth harshly. Giving way under that onslaught, Roy yielded and opened, a moan escaping his throat only to be sucked down by Maes. Taking a fistful of that amazing hair, Maes guided Roy's head to a better angle, pulsing his tongue inside the other man's mouth. Their teeth clicked lightly, like the antlers of jousting deer. Sometimes, this would be a battle for dominance; this time, Roy sought comfort, completely submissive. Maes plundered his lover's mouth, pushing him back into the wall, only breaking away when his body demanded air.
Both men panted, their breaths intermingling. Roy's dark eyes were half-lidded; smoldering. His tongue peeped between his lips and he whispered, "Want you."
Maes let out a groan when Roy pressed his hand against his erection. The rough fabric scraped over his excited flesh, the friction painfully exquisite. "Roy, I'm not prepared now, I wasn't earlier. I don't want to hurt you."
"I'll get something," Roy mumbled, "you wait for me." He raised his eyes up the staircase.
"Up there?" Maes wasn't quite sure he'd be able to climb with a raging hard on.
"You'll see," Roy said with a little smirk. He squirmed out of Maes' grip and disappeared down the hall.
Maes grinned, recognizing that awkward pace, the walk of an aroused man. He ruffled his hair, tilting his head back to study the ladder, just able to make out the faint line of a doorway. Climbing the heavy wooden stairs, he made his way up, pushing open the door.
The night was full of stars, staring down at him like jewels scattered plentifully through a black velvet stole. The desert air slid over his fevered flesh, cooling skin but whetting his ardor. A half moon brightened the roof, providing enough light for him to see by. He spotted the fountain that provided a melodic play of water; the potted trees that whispered and rustled in the breeze. Someone had built an oasis in this desert and Maes made a note to thank whoever's idea this had been.
The soft creak of a step on the stairs pulled his attention back to the present as Roy climbed through the door. He wagged a bottle at Maes, a somber grin creasing his face. "Remind me," he said lightly, "to replace the olive oil from the kitchen." Catching Maes' hand, Roy led him across the roof to a bench seat. Noting the cushions, Maes tumbled onto it, pulling Roy into his lap. "Careful," Roy said, "if we break this bottle, we'll have to use Winry's motor oil for lubrication."
Maes rubbed Roy's back with one hand, plucking the bottle away with the other. "Let's not do that. I think that would probably hurt worse in the long run."
Roy wriggled into a more comfortable position, accidentally on purpose brushing against Maes' crotch. Smoothing his hands over Maes' chest, Roy leaned against his shoulder, long hair trickling over Maes' back. Maes shivered as rough fingers plucked at his nipples. Too long, he thought, it had been far too long. Roy nuzzled closer as Maes tightened his arms around the smaller man. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he murmured as he sifted his fingers through thick hair, bringing Roy's head up, kissing him hard. Roy squirmed on his lap, making soft sounds in the back of his throat. Maes deepened the kiss, sliding his hand between Roy's thighs. Hips jerking at the touch, Roy's moan slipped between their mouths. Their tongues dueled and Roy bucked as Maes traced his cock through the fabric of his trousers. Trailing his hand up, Maes began tugging at the lacings of Roy's Xing-style trousers. "These have to go."
Sliding off his lap, Roy tugged at the lacings holding his trousers on his lean hips. Maes swallowed, his mouth dry. Reaching out, he dragged the pants down, watching as Roy's cock bobbed free of its constraints. It seemed to pulse and grow under Maes' scrutiny as he drew his hands back up Roy's legs, resting them on his hips. Maes tugged and Roy stepped eagerly between his legs.
Tilting his head back, Maes studied his lover. Even cast in shadow, Roy's eyes gleamed. The soft breeze rearranged his long hair, spilling it over his shoulders and chest. His hands rose from his sides, carefully taking Maes' glasses and folding them. He set them down near the bottle of oil, then straightened, laying his hands on Maes' shoulders.
"Beautiful boy," Maes whispered, pressing his mouth against Roy's stomach. The skin twitched and flexed under his tongue slowly dragging a wet path from one hip to the other. Maes could taste the women on Roy's flesh; the lingering scent of sex filling his nostrils. Earlier, he and Roy had used hands and mouths on each other, reminding Maes of first times and fumblings and an excitement that built until it felt like they'd explode. That sex before had taken the edge off but Maes still felt a bubbling up in his body; the heat dipping below his stomach. He loved his wife desperately and Riza, too, but Roy had been his first in so many different ways. He remembered the shy, diffident boy who he'd bunked with in officer's school who'd become a human weapon in Ishbal and insisted that he'd find a way to change the military.
That change was all but within their grasps, Maes thought, but right now, he wanted this man he folded his arms around. Roy's hands slid up into Maes' hair, a little chuckle escaping him. Maes leaned his head back, his chin digging into Roy's sternum. "I didn't think what I was doing was funny."
Gasping as Maes dipped his tongue into his navel, Roy managed to get out, "This hair. It's terrible," before Maes tucked his head lower. The words ended in a stuttered rush of sound as Maes' tongue swept over the head of Roy's weeping cock. Fingers digging into Maes' hair, Roy ground out, "Oh, god," as Hughes sucked him down. Maes scraped his teeth lightly over the sensitive underside of Roy's cock, releasing him with a pop. Roy sagged against him, mumbling, "Need you," as he slid down between Maes' thighs. He plucked at the fly of Maes' trousers, popping the button free. Maes arched up as Roy pulled the zip down, tugging the pants off eagerly. Roy rubbed his cheek against Maes' inner thigh. As if in a daze, he reached up, running his fingers over Maes' scrotum, toying with the foreskin. Raising his head, Roy said, "Daddy, give me what I want."
A frisson of worry at the need in Roy's voice wasn't quite drowned by the desire and love thrumming through Maes. He couldn't erase the years or what happened before but he could give Roy what he needed right now. Maes grasped his lover's arms, dragging him up with him as he stood. He crushed his mouth on Roy's, nipping and sucking and licking. Roy yielded control, his arms tight around Maes' waist, his body pressed so close that Hughes was sure Roy would dissolve into his own skin. The heat of Mustang's erection on his thigh; the burn of it made Maes groan. His own cock nestled against Roy's stomach, leaving a tattoo of precum when he gently pushed Roy back. "Where's that oil?"
Roy picked up the bottle and flipped it open with his thumb. He poured the oil liberally over his hand, slicking Maes' cock slowly. Eyes fluttering closed, Maes lost himself in the sensation of Roy's calloused hand rubbing roughly, then gently, the liquid soothing the touch. He had to grab Roy's wrist, muttering, "Too much, buddy," and guided Roy back down on the bench. Maes took the bottle, warming the oil by rubbing the stuff in his palms and fingers before tracing the cleft of Roy's ass. One finger rimmed the tight circle of muscle as Maes stretched out beside Roy. He claimed Roy's mouth at the same time as he pushed his forefinger inside, first knuckle, second; pulsing his tongue to match the thrusts of his finger.
Roy whispered, "More," against Maes' mouth. Obliging, Maes added a second finger, twisting them slowly, scissoring them to stretch that tight outer ring. Roy moaned when his fingers brushed over the sweet spot, and Maes, grinning, made sure to do it again. Roy threw back his head, fixing Maes with lust-glazed eyes. "Fuck me," he pleaded but Maes sucked on his lower lip instead, pushing a third finger in with the first two. Roy's hips jerked hard at the intrusion and a hiss escaped his mouth.
"Are you my good boy?" Maes asked, nipping along Roy's jawline. He caught an earlobe in his teeth, worrying it gently.
"Yes," Roy murmured, "yes, please."
"Tell me," Maes said, sliding his fingers out with exquisite slowness, his arm pinning Roy against his body, feeling the rough skin on his shoulderblade. Sherman's brand. He shoved that memory aside, along with the thought that Ed had a matching burn scar on his shoulder. "Tell me what you want me to do."
Roy's eyes dragged open. "Want you," he gasped out, "inside me. Hard. Now."
Maes rose up from beside his lover, tugging him into position. Roy's hips arched up submissively, his arms bracing his body. Maes slicked more oil in his hands, rubbing some onto himself; stroking more along Roy's cleft. The smaller man looked over his shoulder, his hair falling in streams around his face. "Fuck me," he said and Maes pressed against Roy's thighs. His cock slid along the crack, the oil making everything frictionless. Maes knew it wouldn't be the case once he was inside but the sensation forced a low groan out of him.
"Maes." The pleading sound of his name made Maes' cock seem to stiffen more. He rubbed the head against and began to push his way inside. Roy threw his head back, a moan dribbling out of his mouth as Maes pulled almost all the way out then abruptly, with a flex of his hips, thrust deeper. As Roy's muscles relaxed, Maes fell into a rhythm, angling Roy's hips for deeper penetration. Roy pushed back against each thrust, whispering words that barely reached Maes. He leaned over Roy's back, flexing his hips, his balls striking Roy's thighs. They remained poised for an instant, Maes' nose in Roy's hair, Roy's arms holding the weight of both their bodies then Maes swept his still-oily hand underneath, fisting Roy's cock. Roy bucked at the touch and Maes had to groan at the contraction of muscles around his cock. "Hard, do me hard," Roy said over his shoulder, heavy-lidded eyes smoldering.
"Hard." Maes' body tensed at the request; he didn't want to hurt Roy but his lover's muscles clamped down and Maes had to move, his body, his lust took over and he slammed into Roy's hips. "What do you want," he panted, "tell me."
He could see Roy's throat bob, his mouth dropping open. "Fuck me, Daddy," he said, clear and sure, "harder," and Maes growled, ramming harder into his lover's body. He could feel his testicles tightening and grabbed Roy's hips, bruising that skin as he came.
"Beautiful boy," he grated out, taking a handful of hair to drag Roy's head up. It wasn't so much a kiss as a clash of mouths and teeth and tongues, the angle was all wrong but he didn't want to leave Roy's body, not yet, god, not yet. Not until his own body stopped quivering. Wrapping his arms around Roy, he dropped back onto his haunches, not quite losing contact, holding Roy sprawled across his thighs. Maes plucked at Roy's nipples with one hand, used the other to stroke Roy's cock. Two pumps and Roy arched up off of Maes, cumming all over Maes' hand and his own stomach and thighs. Slowly, slowly, he sank back down, head falling to rest on Maes' shoulder, a sigh curling around Maes' sweaty throat.
The soft, choked gasp broke into their interlude, both men swinging surprised glances towards the doorway. Edward stood there, his eyes seeming to swallow his face. With a weird, low moan, he scuttled back down the ladder, leaving them to stare after him.
"Well, fuck." Maes buried his face in Roy's hair.
Roy chuckled dryly. "I thought that's what we just did." Obstinate, he didn't move when Maes tried to shift him off his lap.
"I have to go and talk to him," Maes said, feeling for his glasses.
Roy twisted around so he could kiss Maes' jaw. "You can do the father-son sex talk later. Right now, you're my daddy and I need you."
Maes tightened his arms around Roy, settling his chin on his lover's shoulder. Need could be a bitter thing and comfort a long time coming.
But sometimes, it was worth the wait.
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