Chapter Text
“Not to be insensitive Professor Elric–” Not Edward's actual title of Doctor, but not Mister in feigned ignorance for Ed's credentials either, ”–but since experimentation is such an important part of the process, can you really call yourself an alchemist anymore?”
Oops. It looks like Ed's critique on Brickard's theory of electron transference in calcium compounds hit the Acidlime alchemist's nerve.
And with the bright lights, the boring music and overly stiff collar, fancy shit no amount of tailoring can fix the way it doesn’t feel quite accurate on his skin, Ed isn't feeling too charitable tonight.
Ed could say he accomplished more as a State Alchemist as a teenager than this man did in his whole career. That, at just eleven, he managed to survive an attempt at human transmutation twice, successfully binding his brother's soul to a suit of armor. Or that, at fifteen, he decoded Marcoh's research and uncovered the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone. People like the Acidlime alchemist would be impressed by those things, even if Ed hates to even think about them.
Or he could say that, at fifteen, he helped stop a fucking alchemically induced apocalypse. And right after, he found a way to get his brother's body back and still come back to his loved ones. Or that, at twenty, he earned his doctorate by working with his brother to completely shift the alchemical paradigm by challenging the theory of Equivalent Exchange as the world understood it. Those would always be the things Ed could be proud of.
Ed could also say he runs the most productive lab in Amestris, where they just revolutionized the electrical grid with their most recent publication while this bastard has spent all his time reinventing the same half-cocked chemical weapon. Ed will never stop being proud of his students, and what he can help them accomplish.
But showboating is behind Ed now. Unlike his teen self, he has no need to mask his insecurities with overblown bravado. And hell, he doesn’t give an iota of a shit if old military fucks like this guy are impressed by him.
He wasn't going to let some military snob get away unscathed though. Ed licks his teeth and searches for Roy. His General is schmoozing with the newly appointed Drachman ambassador across the room. He can't embarrass Roy, so he just has to play the game the way he does.
Ed does his best to emulate that controlled, neutral tone Roy uses, “Speaking of, I'm looking forward to reading your latest research, since I'm sure you've tackled the timing and controlled issue on the reactivity to extra humidity in the air?”
“That’s highly classified military research, son. Need I remind you that which you do not have clearance for anymore.”
Right. Ed can't admit Roy consults him on State Alchemists’ recertification, which is how he knows the Acidlime Alchemist is overdue to losing his watch. But– “That new bill just passed mandating all new military research be released to the public, though?” It was a rhetorical question of course. Ed watched those laws get written and occasionally bitched about the language being too vague. He tilts his head and grins wide, “I have a student who's looking forward to analyzing your arrays.” And she was about to tear them apart both for their inaccuracy and blatant disregard for any effective safety protocol.
“Hmmph, well I'm sure it will be a good lesson for the kid.”
“Indeed.” Ed sips his champagne and glances across the room. This time Roy meets his eyes. “If you'll excuse me.”
Ed spins on his heel and makes his way to the refreshments table. The finger foods here aren't to Ed's taste but he'll take a moment to stuff his face with anything. Maybe it's been long enough that he can find Riza to bother. Or maybe Jean.
An oh-so-familiar ignition glove reaching across Ed's sightline interrupts his thoughts. Ed freezes as Roy’s voice washes over him in a coy, “pardon me.” Roy plucks a plate with the tiniest piece of fish on Ed’s other side. On his way back, he slips his pinky beneath the cuff of Ed’s sleeve and taps twice, the rough texture of his glove setting Ed’s skin ablaze. Ed grins wide, plopping a cream puff in his mouth before turning. Roy already has his back to him. Ed will make another brief circuit around the room while Roy finds them a place.
~✵*♚*✵~
Ed locks the bathroom door behind him.
Roy's already there, staring at Ed with that stupid suave bastard expression.
The quick click clack from Ed's dress shoes across the marble tile sounds foreign to Ed as his focus tunnels to Roy. Ed needs this—a break from that two-bit bougie dog and pony show out there—he’s been craving Roy like salvation from a god he never believed in. Roy had to have known when he gave Ed their signal.
Roy's lips are on his in an open mouthed kiss, his gloved hand holding Ed's nape, twirling the wispy baby hairs that fall around his hairline. Ed lets his muscles relax, his racing thoughts crash against one another and burst into flame. Roy's leading them somewhere, guiding their bodies until Ed’s lower back hits something solid. Hands on Ed’s hips he turns Ed to face one of the many sinks. Its porcelain is a pristine bright white with a rich gold faucet that matches the ornate frame of the mirror behind it.
“Hands, love,” Roy commands. Truth help him, if Ed could bottle Roy's voice like when it's this he would.
Ed obeys, setting his hands on either side of the porcelain sink. Roy is nothing short of austere in the way his reflection towers over Ed's like this. Ed shifts a bit to check his balance before arching his back in a way he knows entices his lover. It gets the desired effect: Roy's hands run along his thighs to his ass, giving it a playful squeeze before Roy undoes Ed's belt and finally pulls his pants down.
Roy licks his lips at the sight, even Ed can admit the deep red lace Roy picked out for him looks good. For a long time, wearing what seemed like women’s things made Ed want to rip his own skin off. But panties were so convenient in times like these, particularly for the way they make Roy’s pupils dilate. Roy pulls those down too and flicks the vaginal plug’s silicone, sending little sparks of anticipation straight to Ed's clit.
Roy's bending over him, setting his left hand next to Ed's. He twists the plug teasingly as he murmurs in Ed's ear, “You look so handsome tonight, all dressed up. You have no idea all the eyes I wanted to boil just for looking at you.” Ed will never tire of watching Roy pull his glove off with his teeth. The warmth of Roy's bare palm is heaven as he cups Ed's jaw, forcing him to look at his own reflection. Ed's face is already on fire, a whimper caught in his chest. It's not fair Roy can do this to him when he hasn't even been fucked yet. “It’s alright though. None of them get to see you like this. None of them get to use you like I do. Isn’t that right, Edward?”
“Yes. Fuck. Only you.”
“Good boy.” Roy pressed his fingers against Ed's lips. “Get these nice and wet for me.”
These are the only kind of orders Ed will happily follow. His tongue laves at the creases between each finger, beckoning them deeper into his mouth. Roy is playing with the base of the plug, pressing it further in before tugging it back in a way that makes drool gather in Ed's mouth. Ed uses that to his advantage as he continues to suck and lick at Roy's fingers.
It’s not hard for Ed to lose himself like this. To let his mouth do the work that he's been taught to do. He doesn't realize his eyes are closed until Roy slips the plug out of him. He tosses it gently with a clunk into the sinks basin. It should not be so hot to see the remnants of Roy’s cum clung to the silicone from their fuck just before the banquet. Roy removes his fingers from Ed's mouth and presses all three at once into Ed’s cunt.
Ed's head drops in a desperate moan. Having none of that, Roy wraps a hand around Ed's ponytail and tugs. Ed's back arches further as he's forced to look at them through the mirror. And thank the universe he did. Roy's mask of smugly poised bastard cracks, his lips parted and eyes soft as he looks at Ed while unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock out before thrusting home.
Ed tries to keep his noises suppressed—they're at a public event after all—he'd rather not embarrass himself. He's being rendered into a puddle of shuddering gasps and hitching moans that catch in his throat.
Roy is all precision and speed, slamming into his g-spot with every stroke. He'd take his time later, dismantling Ed more thoroughly when they got back home. Right now is about staking a claim, reminding Ed and himself who Ed belongs to. It's no surprise Ed's orgasm hits him like a bullet. He chokes on his own spit and almost collapses with the force of it. Roy is quick to follow, cumming inside Ed while he supports Ed.
They linger there for a moment, both of them catching their breath with Roy still sheathed inside Ed. The way Roy tenderly rubs his thumbs along Ed’s hipbones helps Ed find himself back in his body. He finally puts more weight back on his palms and Roy pulls out with a wet squelch.
Ed squawks as Roy pulls his underwear and pants up without putting the plug back in. “The fuck are you doing, bastard?”
Roy merely hooks his chin over Ed’s shoulder while he rinses his hands the plug, “You’ll be fine. No wet spots should show too much through that material.”
“And if it does anyway?”
“Wanna make a bet?”
Ed glares at him through the mirror, “Yes.”
“Fine, whoever wins has to do whatever the other wants after this.” Roy doesn’t wait for Ed’s reply, merely slipping the toy in his pocket before walking out the door.
Of course the bastard would make Ed walk around with his cum dripping down his leg. And of fucking course that’s when Alex Louise Armstrong–now a Lieutenant Colonel–fucking finds him and insist they catch up with Maria and Denny in tow. All the meanwhile, Ed has to act totally normal and begrudgingly hope Roy would win this bet. Either way his pride was going to take a hit, and he’d rather it not be because of a damn wet spot.