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Can You Feel the Silence

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It was the sound of the shower that woke Ed. It was so familiar and comfortable that he almost went right back to sleep, but some part of his brain woke up enough to follow the lazy Roy’s taking a shower with Roy’s not home.

He sat bolt upright and blinked around at the room. The lamp on Roy’s side was on. Roy’s uniform jacket had been flung onto the foot of the bed. Roy’s boots were sitting in front of the closet.

While Ed had been trying to force the evidence before him to make sense with his understanding of reality the water shut off. A moment later Roy stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in his pajama pants and toweling off his hair. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ed blurted. “The trains—”

“I rode straight through.” He let the towel drop to his shoulders and moved into the bedroom. He didn’t seem to want to meet his eye. “I’m sorry, I should have called. I didn’t want to delay. I didn’t—I had to get home.”

Ed crawled over as Roy sat down on the edge of the bed. “Shit. I’m glad you are home, anyway.”

One of the most frustrating things about being out of the military was that he couldn’t just up and follow when Roy had assignments like this one. Now he had to wait at home, snatching up whatever scraps of information that the military deemed benign enough to make public, or the few coded hints that Roy could manage to slip into his letters.

But that had been more than enough to know that the skirmish had turned sour. And that Roy had been forced to give some hard orders.

“Roy, you . . . okay?”

“I’m fine.” A little too quickly and a little too forcefully.

Ed knelt behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. He was so tense he was almost shaking. “Hey. Look at me.”

He sighed, then turned just enough to meet his gaze.

The dark circles under his single eye were too pronounced to have just been from a couple of nights sleeping on a train. Ed brushed his thumb over the tension lines around his mouth. “What do you need?”

For a long moment, Roy just looked at him. The façade he wore as General Mustang was still shuttering his face, but Ed knew him too well for that to work. “Roy—what do you need?” he repeated with added emphasis.

Roy hesitated for a second more, then reached out and cupped his cheek. The mask cracked just enough to let through desire and raw need. Ed held his eye. When he pressed him down to the bed and climbed over him, he yielded gladly.

To call the kiss “rough” would be an understatement. Roy attacked with lips and teeth. Ed tilted his face up and parted his lips and let himself be consumed.

He broke off long enough to drag Ed’s undershirt over his head, and he raised his arms to accommodate. Roy held them there, twisting the fabric into symbolic restraints around his wrists. Ed gripped the shirt in acknowledgement.

Roy stroked his arms, pausing a moment to run his fingers over the automail’s exposed wires. Ed’s breath caught.

At a none too gentle nudge, he turned his head to let Roy nip and suck down his neck. “F-fuck,” he breathed as teeth scraped over the scars at the edge of the port. “Roy. . . .”

Fingers dug into his ribs, with more pain than pleasure. He twitched and gasped and the fingers backed off—then nails dragged down his sides in a way that always made him squirm.

Roy pulled back for a moment to search his face. Ed met his stare, trying to convey without words that this was welcome—all of it. Roy cupped his face, then slid his hands down his chest and stomach and up his sides, trying to claim every inch of him. He couldn’t quite place his expression; desire, yes, but also something like worship.

Roy’s hands skimmed down to his hips. His thumbs pressed in just next to his hip bones, pinning him down and pulling his boxers taut over his growing arousal. Ed sucked in air and squirmed, and the grip tightened, pressing him into the mattress.

Bending down, Roy dragged his tongue over Ed’s belly, from shorts to navel and back down. Ed twisted the shirt between his hands, humming with the need to move.

He cried out as the shorts were jerked down; the waistband raking over his erection was almost too much. Roy had him pinned by the thighs now, fingers denting his skin and thumbs pressed into the juncture of thigh and groin. He was still uncharacteristically silent, but his face now was a complex of emotions. Ed breathed in a faint gasp as he realized—the mask was gone. General Mustang had finally been set aside.

Something shifted in his expression, and then Roy released him, holding out his hands. Ed slipped his hands free of the “restraint” of his shirt and met him. As their hands clasped he finally got a smile. Just a hint of one.

Roy lifted him enough to roll him onto his stomach, and Ed shifted to get comfortable—or as comfortable as he could get with a hard-on trapped against the mattress. But then his hips were nudged up, and a pillow was stuffed underneath.

He heard a sigh as fingers skimmed the length of his spine. Roy swept his hair to one side and rained kisses down on his neck and shoulders. Almost gently. When he arched into the touch he got rewarded with a moan and a solid, lingering kiss to his pulse.

The lips retreated, and then Roy slid his boxers the rest of the way off.

It had taken Ed some time to get used to making himself this vulnerable. The position still gave him a little thrill, part fear, part anticipation. He leaned into the feeling now, closing his eyes and reaching back, presenting his hands at the small of his back.

Roy made a small, desperate sound that shot right through him. He gripped his wrists, fingers digging into the flesh of his left. Held them pressed together for a moment, accepting and cementing the phantom bonds.

Roy’s hands slid down and cupped his ass, spreading him open. One thumb stroked along the cleft, something that always made Ed want to squirm—on the rare times he let Roy get away with it. He jerked and twitched, just stopping himself from writhing. Something that wasn’t helped by the other thumb stroking down further, stopping just shy of his balls before turning back.

Nngh . . . Roy . . .” he whined, clenching and unclenching his hands and grinding his face into the sheets.

Roy planted a kiss right on his tailbone, as one thumb finally found its destination and pressed. Ed’s body convulsed at the promised intrusion even as he pushed back into it.

Roy’s grip tightened, holding him in place. He teased at penetration, pressing and rubbing but never quite breaching. A high pitched whine clawed its way out of Ed’s throat.

For a brief instant the grip turned into a caress, just before the hands retreated completely, leaving Ed gasping.

He was torn between disappointment and excitement when he heard the nightstand drawer slide open. He had been just about ready to be taken dry.

But lube meant they would finally be getting on with it. And sure enough, two slicked fingers slid inside him without any preamble. Ed groaned and canted his hips, only to be held down once more. But his whimper at being thwarted turned into a cry as his sweet spot was jabbed once, twice, and again before the fingers pulled out.

Roy nudged his thighs apart and Ed eagerly accommodated. He could feel the other man’s cock slide teasingly against his ass and he whined, shameless in his need. Finally the tip slid to where it was supposed to be—and lingered. Another tease. Ed grit his teeth and held very still, fighting the urge to impale himself already.

Roy grabbed him by the elbows, putting just that little bit of strain on his shoulders and back. Ed went limp, completely giving himself over. The moment he did, Roy slid inside.

Ed moaned just to feel him there. Nothing else existed; just Roy’s hands, Roy’s hips, Roy filling him to perfection. All the fear and worry he’d been living with for weeks suddenly burst in his chest and tears squeezed from his eyes and started to slide down his nose.

Roy pulled his arms back just a little bit farther as he started to thrust. Ed let his back arch, let his head loll against the mattress, and savored the stretch and the strain. Every time Roy’s hips kissed his was a gift. Every stroke against his prostate a treasure.

Their rhythm stalled suddenly and Ed couldn’t have stopped the desperate little whine if he’d wanted to. Roy made soothing noises as he lowered Ed’s arms to the bed and then lay down, moulding himself to the smaller form beneath him.

As soon as they were fitted together he began to move again, and Ed gasped and pressed up against him. These shallow, smooth thrusts stroked right through him. Roy kissed his ear, behind his jaw, his cheekbone and temple as he encircled him with his arms.

Ed was openly sobbing now. Roy caught some of the tears with his lips and breathed his name in reverence.

He must have sense that Ed was at his limit, because he slid a hand down and slipped it beneath them, cupping the much neglected erection in his palm. One squeeze was all it took.

Roy lay heavy over him as they both caught their breath. Ed thought he might just like to lie like that forever, warm and safe. Together. But inevitably Roy shifted, kissing his ear as he pulled out. “Thank you, Love. Thank you.”

Ed let out a long sigh as Roy’s warmth left him. “I think . . . that was just as much for me as you.”

“Good.” He kissed his shoulder, then gently prodded until Ed flopped onto his back. “It seems we both needed it.”

Ed sighed again, watching his lover as he used the towel from his shower to clean them up. “Roy . . . I know you’re not ‘fine.’ Not after . . . there’s no way you could be all right.”

Roy looked up then, and the naked pain on his face made his heart ache. “No. I’m . . . not.”

No one should be, after that.”


Ed reached for him, and Roy sank down into his arms, burying his face into his neck. Ed curled around him, holding him as tightly as he could. “The world is just shit sometimes.”

The sound he made was not quite a sob. “No. It could never be. Not as long as someone as magnificent as you welcomes the touch of someone like me.”

“You—shit. You bastard.” Ed squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hide his face in Roy’s hair. “You’re gonna make me start crying again.”