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it's midnight here

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The train rattled and shook. Roy had to take care not to bite his tongue whenever they went across a junction. This was an old wagon set, pressed into service as the winter wore on and more and more trains needed more and more repairs because of the snow and the ice and the grit in the snow that did untold damage.

Outside the snow shone white under a fierce full moon. Inside, there was very little heat. Roy tugged on the edge of the blanket around his shoulders, and got an elbow in the ribs -- an extremely cold and hard elbow. "That's my half of the blanket you're pulling away," Ed muttered. "I'm cold."

Roy considered several retorts, but he was too tired to put any real energy into it. "Everyone's cold. It's winter." He put his arm around Ed and settled the blanket more tightly around them both. "If you hold still, we might actually get a little warmer."

To his surprise, Ed actually snuggled closer. The automail was uncomfortable between them, digging into Roy's side with every breath. "A colonel should rate two blankets." Ed sounded drowsy and cranky at the same time. "Would be more useful than a private compartment."

"What would be useful," Roy said in exasperation, "is if you took that damn arm off. It's just making us both colder, trying to keep that chunk of metal warm."

"I refuse." Ed burrowed into Roy's side and put his head on Roy's shoulder. "You're not very comfortable, are you. You should have more padding."

"I'm not about to grow a beer belly," Roy snapped, "just so you can sleep more easily."

"Wouldn't really suit you." Ed tucked his left arm in under Roy's coat. His hair tickled Roy's face. "Mm. I suppose this is acceptable." He tucked the edge of the blanket in under his chin.

"Brat." Roy tried to blow Ed's hair away from his mouth. Ed's hand tugged at his shirt and slid in between shirt and undershirt. "Stop that."

"But I'm cold." Ed's fingers slipped under the undershirt, and yes, they were cold; Roy yelped. "You want to keep me warm, light a fire, Flame Alchemist."

"Yes, setting fire to a train will give people a really good impression of state alchemists." Roy grabbed Ed's arm and pulled his hand away from where it was currently creeping lower and lower. "Stop that."

Ed straightened up and glared at him. "I'm just trying to get warm!"

"By molesting me?" Roy arched an eyebrow. "I don't have to share this blanket with you at all, you know. It's only out of the goodness of my heart that--" There was more to that little speech, but Ed broke into raucous laughter, drowning it out. "You're not trying to get warm," Roy said finally, "you're just trying to annoy me."

"I thought you might set fire to something if you got angry enough," Ed said unrepentantly. He grinned. "Guess I'll just have to settle for getting you hot." His hand went back under Roy's clothes again, moving with more purpose. He had Roy's uniform pants unbuttoned before Roy could even start to say no, fingers delving lower. "Right now I think you're feeling the cold a bit too much."

"You're--" Roy almost said that Ed was just trying to get a rise out of him.

He bit his lip as Ed's fingers, cold but warming rapidly, coaxed him into an erection he was resolved not to have, but then there he was, having it. Ed was very good with his left hand. Understandably so, since of course Ed didn't jerk off with his right hand. Roy could remember Ed telling him about it, making it sound casual and amusing that things might go very badly if he got too enthusiastic. Ed never asked anyone to feel sorry for him. Roy was mostly too busy wanting to strangle him to even contemplate the idea.

Pressing his back against the thinly padded seat, Roy struggled not to arch into Ed's stroking hand. It wouldn't do to let Ed have things his own way all the time. Then Ed wriggled impossibly closer and started to gnaw at Roy's throat with sharp little teeth, because Ed didn't kiss or lick like normal people, he attacked, and Roy thought it was awkward and moderately painful and unbearably sexy.

The air was cold, the bench he sat on was fairly uncomfortable, the blanket scratched the back of his neck and fell away from his side. Ed's hand was warm and skillful. Ed's mouth was hot and demanding.

"I like it when you get that look," Ed said, and nearly bit Roy's earlobe off. Roy would have said something cutting, but he was busy hitting his head on the compartment partition and coming his brains out.

When his sight cleared again, Ed was licking his fingers and looking smug. Roy enjoyed the sight for a few short moments, and then became aware that he was sticky-damp and a bit uncomfortable, and would be getting progressively more uncomfortable as the stickiness cooled. "Damn it."

"There's a washroom at the end of the wagon," Ed said, cleaning his index finger and then tucking his hand in his armpit, clearly not about to go do any washing-up himself.

Roy sighed and got up. In the door of the compartment he looked back and saw Ed curling up in the blanket until only a few irrepressible gold strands peeked out, the color warm even in the cold moonlight coming in through the train window. Swearing vengeance, Roy stalked out. Once he was clean, that warm spot under the blanket would be his again.