Chapter Text
The train ride to Central had been an exercise in patience, primarily for Edward Elric, who had spent the majority of it glaring out the window while Roy Mustang calmly reviewed their mission file for what must have been the tenth time.
"Still convinced this is the worst mission in military history, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, not even looking up from his papers.
"Don't call me that," Edward snapped, turning away from the window. "And yes, I am. A masquerade ball? Are we twelve? What's next, a tea party with the Fuhrer?"
"It's an exclusive gathering of Central's elite," Roy explained, his tone maddeningly reasonable. "Intelligence indicates a group of anti-military sympathizers will be using the event to finalize a deal with a wealthy benefactor. We need to be inside, unnoticed."
Edward snorted. "Right. Unnoticed. Because the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist are known for their ability to blend in."
"Which is precisely why we won't be ourselves," Roy countered, finally looking up with a glint in his eye that Edward had learned to associate with impending misery. "We'll be Mr. and Mrs. Alistair and Elise Finch, a wealthy academic couple from Xing with a fascination for Amestrian culture."
Edward stared at him. "Mrs.? You expect me to pretend to be your wife?"
"It's the perfect cover," Roy said smoothly. "No one would ever suspect us."
"I hate you so much right now," Edward muttered, slumping in his seat.
"The feeling's mutual, I'm sure," Roy replied with a smirk. "Now, try to look less like you're planning to transmute the beverage cart into a weapon. We're almost here."
───
The guest room in the Grand Central Hotel was lavish, to say the least. Velvet drapes, polished mahogany furniture, and a bed that looked big enough to house Edward's entire dormitory back in East City. Edward whistled softly, tossing his small duffel bag onto a chair.
"Not bad for a military-funded mission," he commented, wandering over to the window that overlooked the glittering lights of Central City.
Roy, however, was focused on the three long garment bags that had been delivered to their room earlier. He unzipped the first one with a deliberate slowness that made Edward's stomach clench with dread.
"Since our cover requires us to look the part," Roy began, his voice deceptively casual, "Central Command has provided us with appropriate attire."
He pulled out a stunning crimson dress, the fabric shimmering under the soft lights of the room. Edward's eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back. "Oh no. Absolutely not. You've got to be kidding me."
Roy's lips curved into a wicked smile as he unzipped the second bag, revealing a matching red corset with intricate black lacings. "I assure you, I'm quite serious."
The third bag contained the final accessories: a delicate set of red lingerie, sheer stockings with a garter belt, and a pair of impossibly high red heels. Edward's face was already turning a shade of red that nearly matched the garments.
"There's no way in hell I'm wearing that," Edward stated, his voice tight with humiliation. "Find someone else to be your pretty little wife."
"It's not a suggestion, Fullmetal," Roy said, his tone shifting from playful to authoritative. "It's a direct order. Your build and features are perfectly suited for the role. With your hair up and some makeup, you'll be entirely convincing."
Edward's golden eyes narrowed. "My 'build and features'? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Only that you're... delicately structured," Roy replied, his gaze sweeping over Edward's slender frame and sharp, almost ethereal features. "You'll make a beautiful woman, Edward."
The use of his first name, combined with the unexpected compliment, caught Edward off guard. He felt a blush creeping up his neck and fought it down with sheer force of will. "I'm still not wearing it."
Roy sighed, setting the dress down on the bed. "Very well. I suppose I'll have to call Central Command and inform them that the Fullmetal Alchemist is refusing a direct order. I'm sure they'll understand. Perhaps they'd prefer to reassign you to latrine duty for the next six months?"
Edward's jaw tightened. He hated when Roy played the rank card, but he knew the bastard had him cornered. "You're a manipulative son of a bitch."
"So I've been told," Roy replied with an unconcerned shrug. "Now, are you going to cooperate, or do I need to make that call?"
With a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush, Edward began to unbutton his shirt. "Fine. But you're not watching me change."
"Oh, but I am," Roy countered, picking up the corset. "That thing is a work of engineering, and if you put it on wrong, you'll either be uncomfortable or you'll damage it. Either way, it's coming out of your pay."
Edward glared at him but didn't argue further as he stripped, his movements stiff and resentful. He kept his back to Roy, his automail hand clenched into a fist at his side.
"Turn around," Roy commanded softly.
Edward hesitated for a moment before complying, his face burning with embarrassment as he stood before Roy, completely naked.
Roy's gaze was appreciative but not mocking as he held up the red lingerie. "Arms up."
Edward obeyed, his breath catching as Roy helped him into the flimsy lingerie, his fingers brushing against Edward's skin with a touch that was surprisingly gentle. Next came the garter belt and stockings, and Edward had to brace himself against the bed as Roy knelt to roll them up his legs, the touch sending an unexpected jolt through his body with every inch of bare skin exposed.
"The corset next," Roy said, his voice huskier than before. "Take a deep breath."
Edward did as he was told, his breath catching in his throat as Roy wrapped the corset around his torso and began to tighten the laces. With each pull, Edward felt his chest constrict, his waist narrowing to an almost unnatural degree. But there was something else, too—a strange, thrilling pressure that made his heart race and his breath come in short gasps.
"How does that feel?" Roy asked, his lips close to Edward's ear.
"Tight," Edward managed to gasp out. "Really tight."
Roy's hands moved to Edward's shoulders, turning him to face him. "You look... breathtaking."
Edward's golden eyes widened at the raw desire in Roy's gaze. He had seen Mustang look at women with that expression before, but he had never imagined it directed at him—especially not while he was dressed in women's lingerie.
"Now for the dress," Roy said, his voice thick with emotion as he helped Edward step into the crimson garment. The fabric was cool against Edward's skin, hugging his newly cinched waist and flaring out at the hips in a way that was both flattering and utterly foreign.
Roy led him to the full-length mirror, and Edward stared at his reflection in disbelief. The person who looked back at him was a stranger—a beautiful, mysterious woman with golden eyes and a figure that was, he had to admit, quite impressive.
"Almost perfect," Roy murmured, his hands moving to Edward's hair. "Just one more thing."
Edward watched in the mirror as Roy skillfully gathered his golden hair, twisting it into an elegant updo that left his neck exposed. Then came the makeup—foundation to even out his complexion, a touch of kohl to make his eyes stand out, and finally, a deep red lipstick that matched the dress perfectly.
When Roy was finished, Edward hardly recognized himself. He looked... sophisticated. Elegant. And, to his surprise, not entirely terrible.
"Well?" Roy asked, his voice soft. "What do you think?"
Edward turned from the mirror to face Roy, his cheeks flushed. "I look like a woman."
"You look beautiful," Roy corrected, his eyes dark with an emotion that Edward couldn't quite name. "And I'm the luckiest man at the ball."
Edward's blush deepened, but he managed a weak glare. "Don't push it, Mustang."
Roy chuckled, holding out his arm. "Shall we, Mrs. Finch?"
Edward hesitated for a moment before taking Roy's arm, his automail hand resting lightly on the dark blue fabric of Roy's elegant suit. "Let's just get this over with."
───
The ball was in full swing when they arrived, the grand ballroom filled with elegantly dressed guests in elaborate masks. Edward felt a surge of anxiety, his hand tightening on Roy's arm.
"Relax," Roy murmured, his lips close to Edward's ear. "You're doing fine. Just remember to smile and let me do most of the talking."
Edward nodded, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Right. Smile and look pretty. Got it."
Roy led him onto the dance floor, his hand resting possessively on Edward's waist. "We need to be seen. A few dances, some light conversation, and then we can start gathering intelligence."
Edward stumbled slightly, unused to the high heels. "I can't dance in these things."
"Just follow my lead," Roy instructed, his voice firm but gentle. "It's not that difficult."
To Edward's surprise, it wasn't. Roy was an excellent dancer, guiding him across the floor with a confidence that was both irritating and reassuring. After a few moments, Edward found himself relaxing into the rhythm, his body moving in sync with Roy's. The other dancers blurred into a background of color and motion, leaving just the two of them in their own little world.
Roy's hand on his waist was a constant, warm presence, his fingers pressing gently through the fabric of the dress. Edward could feel the heat of Roy's body, smell the faint scent of his cologne, and it was doing strange things to his own physiology. His heart was racing, and it wasn't just from the exertion of dancing.
"You're a natural," Roy murmured, his lips close to Edward's ear, his breath sending a shiver down his spine. "I told you you'd be beautiful."
Edward felt a blush creeping up his neck and fought it down. "Shut up and dance, bastard."
Roy chuckled, his thumb stroking Edward's side. "So feisty. I like that in a woman."
Edward's automail hand clenched on Roy's shoulder. "I'm not a woman."
"Aren't you?" Roy's voice was low, husky, and it sent a jolt straight to Edward's groin. "You look like one. You feel like one. And tonight, you're my wife."
Before Edward could form a suitable retort, Roy spun him out, then pulled him back in, their bodies colliding with enough force to steal Edward's breath. He found himself pressed against Roy's chest, his face buried in the crook of his neck, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Easy there, Mrs. Finch," Roy whispered, his hand moving from Edward's waist to the small of his back, pulling him even closer. "We don't want to cause a scene."
Edward wanted to argue, to push him away, but his body betrayed him, melting against Roy's like it was where it belonged. He could feel Roy's hardness pressing against his hip, and it sent a thrill through him that was equal parts terror and excitement.
"Mustang..." he began, his voice shaky.
"Roy," the other man corrected, his lips brushing against Edward's temple. "Tonight, I'm Roy, and you're Elise. Remember?"
Edward nodded, his breath catching in his throat as Roy's hand moved lower, cupping his ass through the fabric of the dress. He could feel the eyes of the other guests on them, but for the first time all night, he didn't care. All that mattered was the man holding him, the man who was making him feel things he'd never felt before.
The music changed, slowing to a sensual rhythm that matched the pounding of Edward's heart. Roy's movements became more intimate, his hands roaming over Edward's body with a familiarity that should have been insulting but was instead intoxicating.
"You're doing so well," Roy murmured, his lips finding Edward's ear. "Everyone's watching us. They're jealous of what we have."
Edward snorted, though it came out more like a gasp. "What we have is a lie."
"Is it?" Roy's hand moved to Edward's chin, tilting his face up. "Then why are you blushing? Why is your heart racing? Why are you pressing against me like you can't get close enough?"
Edward opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. Because Roy was right. He was enjoying this, enjoying the feel of Roy's hands on his body, the sound of his voice in his ear, the way he was looking at him like he was the most desirable person in the room.
"Look," Roy said, his voice soft. "General Hakuro. He's our target."
Edward's eyes followed Roy's gaze to a portly man in a military uniform, surrounded by a group of wealthy-looking civilians. Hakuro was laughing, his hand on the arm of a woman in a green dress, but his eyes kept darting around the room, as if he was expecting someone.
"He looks nervous," Edward observed, his professional instincts kicking in despite his personal turmoil.
"He should be," Roy replied, his hand moving to the small of Edward's back again. "He's about to sell military secrets to the highest bidder. Let's get closer."
Roy guided him across the floor, their movements fluid and natural. As they neared Hakuro's group, Roy spun Edward into a dip, his body arching gracefully. The move brought them within earshot of the general's conversation.
"...the new automail designs," Hakuro was saying, his voice low. "Blueprints, production schedules, the works. It's all yours for the right price."
Edward's eyes widened. Automail designs? That was his mother's legacy, his brother's future. He felt a surge of anger, and it took all of his self-control not to transmute the general's drink into something unpleasant.
"Easy," Roy murmured, sensing his tension. "Not here. Not now."
He pulled Edward up, their bodies pressing together once more. "We have what we need. Let's go."
Edward nodded, his jaw tight. "Let's."
They left the dance floor, Roy's arm possessively around Edward's waist. As they made their way through the crowd, Edward could feel the weight of Roy's gaze on him, and he knew that the mission was far from over. In fact, it was just beginning.
───
The moment the door to their guest room closed, the mission was forgotten. Roy's hands were on Edward, pulling him close, his lips crashing down on his in a kiss that was hungry, demanding, and utterly consuming. The crimson fabric of the dress was a soft barrier between them, a thin layer of pretense that was about to be torn away.
Edward responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around Roy's neck, his fingers tangling in his dark hair. He could taste the champagne they'd shared on the dance floor, feel the heat of Roy's body pressing against him, and it was intoxicating. The tension that had been building all night finally snapped, leaving nothing but raw, unadulterated need.
"Roy," he gasped, breaking the kiss long enough to breathe, his chest heaving against the tight confines of the corset.
"Elise," Roy corrected, his voice a low growl as his lips moved to the sensitive skin of Edward's neck. He nipped and sucked, marking him, claiming him. "You're Elise tonight. My beautiful, brave wife."
Edward's head fell back, a choked moan escaping his lips as Roy's teeth grazed his earlobe. "Roy..." The name was a plea, a prayer, a surrender.
"That's right," Roy murmured, his hands roaming over the expensive fabric of the dress, mapping the curves beneath. "Say my name. Let me hear you say it."
"Roy," Edward repeated, his voice shaky as Roy's hands found his ass, squeezing through the layers of silk and lace.
Roy's lips curved into a wicked smile against his skin. "I've been waiting all night to get you out of this dress."
"Don't," Edward breathed, his hands tightening on Roy's shoulders. "Leave it on."
Roy pulled back, his eyes dark with surprise and a hunger that made Edward's knees weak. "You want to keep it on?"
Edward nodded, his cheeks flushed. "Yes. Please."
Roy's groan was one of pure, unadulterated lust. "Fuck, Elise. You're going to be the death of me."
He dropped to his knees, his hands moving to the hem of the dress. Edward held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as Roy slowly lifted the fabric, exposing the garter belt and stockings, the delicate red panties that did little to hide his arousal.
"Look at you," Roy whispered, his fingers tracing the edge of the lace. "All dressed up for me. My beautiful bride."
Edward's blush deepened, but he didn't look away. He watched as Roy leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Then Roy's mouth was on him, his tongue tracing the line where the stocking met his skin, his teeth nibbling gently.
"Roy!" Edward cried out, his hands flying to Roy's hair, his fingers tangling in the dark strands.
Roy chuckled, the vibration sending a jolt straight to Edward's groin. "Patience, my love. I'm going to take my time with you."
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of the panties, slowly pulling them down. Edward stepped out of them, his legs trembling with anticipation. Roy's eyes were fixed on him, his gaze so intense it was almost a physical touch.
"Turn around," Roy commanded, his voice husky.
Edward complied, his hands bracing against the edge of the bed. He could feel Roy's hands on his hips, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above the garter belt. Then Roy's hands were spreading him open, his tongue tracing a path from his testicles to his entrance.
Edward cried out, his body arching at the intimate contact. He had never felt anything like it, never imagined Roy would do something so... so dirty, so utterly depraved. And God help him, he loved it.
"Roy, what are you...?" he began, his voice trailing off into a moan as Roy's tongue circled his entrance, teasing, tormenting.
"Making you mine," Roy murmured, his breath hot against Edward's skin. "Every inch of you."
He pushed his tongue inside, and Edward saw stars. His knees buckled, but Roy's hands held him up, his grip firm, possessive. Edward was lost in a haze of pleasure, his mind blank, his body a vessel for the sensations Roy was creating.
"Please," he begged, his voice barely a whisper. "Roy, please..."
"Please what, my love?" Roy asked, his tongue continuing its wicked assault. "Tell me what you want."
"You," Edward gasped, his fingers clutching the bedspread. "I want you inside me."
Roy chuckled, the sound sending another jolt through Edward's body. "As you wish, my beautiful wife."
He rose to his feet, his hands moving to the fastenings of his pants. Edward watched over his shoulder, his breath catching in his throat as Roy freed himself, hard and ready.
"Like this," Roy said, his hands on Edward's hips, positioning him. "Bent over in your pretty red dress, just like a good little wife should be."
Edward's blush deepened, but he arched his back, presenting himself to Roy. "Please," he begged again, his voice needy, desperate.
Roy's fingers were slick with lube, pressing into him, stretching him, preparing him. Edward moaned, pushing back against them, wanting more, needing more.
"Roy, now," he demanded, his voice tight with need.
Roy chuckled, his fingers withdrawing. "So impatient."
He positioned himself at Edward's entrance, his hands gripping Edward's hips. Then he pushed inside, slow and steady, filling him completely.
Edward cried out, his body arching, his hands clutching the bedspread. It was too much, too intense, too perfect. He could feel every inch of Roy, every ridge, every vein, and it was driving him insane.
"Move," he begged, his voice shaky. "Please, Roy, move."
Roy's laugh was low, husky. "Anything for you, my love."
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, then faster, harder, driving into Edward with a force that stole his breath. Edward met him thrust for thrust, his body moving in sync with Roy's, their moans and cries filling the room.
"Look at you," Roy panted, his hand reaching around to wrap around Edward's cock. "Taking me so well. Such a good girl for me."
Edward's moan was high, feminine, utterly wanton. He was lost, lost in the pleasure, lost in the feeling of Roy inside him, lost in the knowledge that he was Roy's, completely and utterly.
"Roy," he cried out, his body tensing as his orgasm washed over him, wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Roy followed him over the edge, his own release filling Edward, his cry of Edward's name a hoarse, desperate sound.
They collapsed onto the bed, a tangled heap of limbs and expensive fabric. Edward's head was spinning, his body humming with satisfaction. He could feel Roy's arms around him, his lips pressing soft kisses against his neck.
"Wow," he managed to say, his voice shaky.
Roy chuckled, his hand stroking Edward's hair. "The feeling's mutual, I'm sure."
Edward turned his head, his golden eyes meeting Roy's. "I still hate you, you know."
Roy's expression softened, his fingers tilting Edward's chin up. "I know."
Their lips met in a gentle kiss, a promise of things to come once the mission was over. For now, they had a job to do, but both knew that something had changed between them—something that went far beyond the boundaries of their fake relationship.