Kracken
Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of this.
Warning; Male/male sex, graphic, language, violence
Full Metal Alchemist
Leanings
"You need to be available," Lt. Colonel Thompson said as he walked around Edward, looking him up and down. "You need to look at him with some maturity, some knowledge of what you want. It's obvious that he thinks of you as a child. You must convince him that you aren't."
Edward seethed, his metal hand slamming on the man's desk, making everything on it jump and tremble. "I am not a child!"
The man snorted and came to a stop in front of him. "Prove yourself. Look at me as if you want me. Look at me as if you are aware of what we might do together."
Edward remained stiff and angry, his cheeks going hot.
The colonel sighed. "I will have to find someone else... but I doubt their success even more. Mustang has particular tastes. You interested him."
"He won't believe me if I do as you say!" Edward snarled, gold eyes snapping."There has to be another way."
The colonel rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "You don't spend time together. There isn't an occasion where you would find yourself naked in his presence..." He trailed off thoughtfully. "Put the 'how' aside for now. Let us concentrate on what you would do if that opportunity presented itself. Imagine it, you, naked, and standing in front of Mustang, also naked. A shower, perhaps? The barracks shower? How would you seduce him and make it believable?"
"I..." Edward imagined it with crystal clarity, but could only think of shame and getting out as quickly as possible.
Another sigh. The man scowled and approached him. "Here and here." He took Edward's hands and smoothed them along his belly. "Slow and firm... and here... like this...." He took Edward's flesh and blood hand and curved it as if it were holding soap. Then he took that hand and ran it along Edward's ass.
Edward jumped and twitched out of the man's grasp. "Stop! I can't do this!"
The colonel was livid now. "What are you afraid of? Is embarrassment so terrible to you? Is saving face worth more than what you seek? We will be close, listening, and he won't get what he wants, I assure you. You don't have anything to fear."
"It won't happen!" Edward retorted, retreating a few steps. "He doesn't shower with his men." He shook his head sharply and stalked to the door, needing to leave.
"Wait." The colonel passed him and opened the door to his office. "Kirk?"
A slim young man in uniform came in. He smiled at Edward and looked him up and down very slowly as he went to stand at attention before the colonel. He had very dark hair, falling in a wave over green eyes. He was handsome and self assured.
"Kirk?" The colonel took up a stance as if he were standing in a shower room. "We're in a shower room. Show this boy how to seduce me."
"That's against regulations sir," the man smirked as if he were joking.
"Demonstration purposes only," The colonel said with a smile. "To show him what's against the rules."
"Ah," the man said and winked at Edward as he took up a stance beside the colonel.
Kirk acted as if he were picking up soap and then he hummed gently under his breath and acted as if he were sensuously soaping his upper body. The colonel was looking oblivious. Kirk's hands roved lower and lower until he was pretending to soap his ass and between his legs. His humming had taken on an almost moaning aspect. He tilted back his chin as if he were letting hot water spray over him and then he bent down, facing away from the colonel, as he pretended to soap his legs and feet.
Edward was out of the door and hurrying away without thought. He wasn't sure if they called after him. He didn't care. He just knew that he couldn't stay and witness that any longer. He couldn't act like that. Mustang had said it clearly, his face would betray him.
Needing to blow off steam, Edward went to the range, a place where he could practice his alchemy safe from interference. After a few rounds of reducing rocks to rubble and then back to their original form, he calmed and became more serious. He began changing things more subtly, tweaking unusual forms out of blocks of masonry. The power flowed through him cleanly and it felt almost euphoric, until thoughts of Kirk, soaping his body, and the feeling of being made a fool, swept that feeling aside and replaced it with burning anger and distraction.
The block Edward had been changing, suddenly toppled from his control and exploded. Edward flinched and raised his arms to protect his head, but chunks of the block were already slamming into him. He felt a blow to the head, his chest, and his arm, before he fell sprawling, dazed and disoriented.
Hands were on him. Mustang's voice demanded worriedly, "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Edward mumbled as the man helped him to sit up, bracing him with his body, but Edward's head was spinning and he couldn't see him clearly.
Soft hands touched his forehead, ghosted over a throbbing pain in his arm, and then began unbuttoning his uniform. "Superficial wounds," Mustang finally said, "What were you attempting to do?"
Edward was helped to his feet. He limped, with Mustang's help, to a stone bench in the shade of a tree. Mustang sat with him, still holding him and keeping him steady. Edward tried to think as he replied, "I don't remember."
"You were distracted," Mustang reprimanded."I was watching you."
Edward nodded and his head throbbed. "Stupid," he agreed.
"Sit still," Mustang ordered. "When your head clears, I'll take you to the infirmary."
Edward stopped himself from nodding again. It hurt too much.
"What distracted you?" Mustang asked, idle curiosity as he waited for Edward to regain his senses.
Edward found himself replying hazily, "About you... about... us. About not being able to get you to- to want me."
Mustang made a startled sound. Edward's mind finally caught up to his mouth. He swivelled and looked at Mustang in pure shock. The world went dark at the edges.
Mustang frowned, looked around them briefly to see whether they were being watched, decided that they were safe, and then sighed, "I don't understand what you're trying to do. You're a-"
"I'm not a child," Edward retorted, cutting him off angrily. His head spun and he found himself leaning his head against Mustang's collar bone. Mustang's hand came up and gently held him there.
"Who put you up to this?" Mustang asked and Edward's blood went ice cold. Mustang didn't wait for an answer. "Don't you see?" he asked bitterly, "That proves that you are still too young, too naive. You didn't even see what madness they were asking you to do."
Deny it? Edward was suddenly too weary to lie. "I did, I.... I just wanted to believe...but... they're crazy..."
Mustang's hand caressed his gold hair and Edward felt something brush his forehead, warm and soft... Mustang's lips he suddenly realized and felt that Mustang was treating him like a child again, a wounded child needing comfort..
"I need to go to Creta," Edward said angrily. "Whether you say I can or not... Whatever the consequences. I may be foolish, but I stopped being a child a long time ago. Please... stop protecting me. Let... Let me go."
Mustang sighed, held him tightly for a moment, and then said softly, "You will kill yourself, either way, it seems. Go... Take your brother and go to Creta. If you die, though, the Fuhrer will make sure that I follow close behind you."
Edward looked up, startled. His head throbbed and he wasn't thinking at all clearly, but he could see Mustang looking regretful and almost sad. "Thank you, sir," Edward replied, a bare whisper, and then Mustang was helping him to his feet.
"Not the infirmary," Edward balked with a look of distaste. He hated the antiseptic smell and the doctor there was military issue, tough as nails and unsympathetic to the wounded.
"You need someone to watch you, at least until you feel more clear headed," Mustang replied. "Let's go to your quarters. Your brother..." He frowned, thinking of the metal clad boy trying to take care of a wounded alchemist. "I can send him for one of my aides. Riza, I think."
Edward wasn't in any shape to argue. He wanted his bunk and he wanted to rest his aching head on a pillow. Mustang draped one of Edward's arms across his shoulders and they began to slowly limp to the barracks.
"Brother?!" Mustang avoided Al's frantic movements as he edged past
him to put Edward on his bed.
"He's all right," Mustang soothed. "It was a small accident, but I think someone should watch your brother until his head clears. Please go and bring Riza here."
"Brother?" Al's armored body made metal on metal sounds as he bent over the young man.
Edward managed a reassuring smile. "It's all right, Al. Do as he says."
Al remained anxious and uncertain.
"Go, get Riza," Edward urged more firmly.
"Yes, brother. I will hurry," Al assured him.
Mustang flinched back as an armored arm came close to his face as Al turned abruptly and went out of the door. Mustang closed the door behind him and then turned to Edward in concern.
"How are you feeling?"
Edward winced and stretched out on his bed. "The room... it looks like there is two of everything and I feel ill."
Mustang hesitated and then he moved to work off Edward's boots and socks. The metal leg was still startling when it was revealed, the finely made foot making small gyro noises as Edward shifted it. The flesh and blood foot was dusted in golden hairs and was slim and surprisingly small. Mustang covered them both with a blanket.
Edward made a noise, a knowing snort. "Some people don't like to see automail."
Mustang raised an eyebrow. "I thought your foot might be cold."
Edward blushed. "Still..."
"It doesn't bother me," Mustang assured him. "I consider it beautiful. The person who made it was a master."
Edward made a face, an expression someone might find on a young boy who was being forced to sit still while a sister was praised, not believing any of it for a moment. He pried off one of his gloves and left the other one on his metal hand. "It works," was all he would concede. "But it isn't something I prefer over my real flesh and blood."
Mustang was a soldier. He replied, "But it is so strong, so useful."
Edward removed his other glove and flexed the metal fingers. He looked over it at Mustang, his golden eyes intent, and then he reached out and touched Mustang's face with care. The metal fingers twitched against his skin. "If I lose control," Edward said, "I could crush your face. These fingers aren't soft. They aren't warm. People don't long to feel them."
Mustang gripped them and then pulled them away. "I don't mind, but your control is not that good just now." There were red finger marks on his face.
Their eyes met and held. Edward felt contrite and then he saw the softness in Mustang's eyes. He voiced his thought before he could think to stop it, "You are attracted to me."
Mustang stiffened and released Edward's metal hand. His brows drew down, but his eyes didn't lose their soft look."What will you do if I say yes?" he asked tightly. "Call my enemies? Denounce me before the Fuhrer?"
Edward felt something open up within him, like the petals of a flower unfolding. His reply was soft, almost non existent, "No."
"No disgust?" Mustang wondered. "No hate? No self righteous condemnation?"
Again, Edward replied, "No."
"Why not?" Mustang wondered.
The sun was coming through a window and shimmering in Mustang's dark hair. An epiphany should always be accompanied by angels, Edward thought, but there was a touch of bitterness attached to that thought. Sudden self knowledge wasn't always a happy event.
"You know why," Edward replied, seeing it in Mustang's eyes, moving behind his calm facade. It was fire and passion and want and it was a mirror showing himself.
"Sometimes," Mustang said, "The person we see the least clearly is ourselves."
Riza and Al had returned. Mustang was standing, suddenly a commanding officer again as he faced Riza and ordered, "Watch over Edward until he is able to care for himself. Alert the medics if his condition worsens."
"Worsens?" Al exclaimed in alarm. "But, you said that it was a small accident!"
Riza gave Mustang a small salute and then pulled a chair next to Edward's bed. She sat down and crossed arms over her chest as if she were on guard duty, her face very serious.
"Just a precaution," Mustang assured AL. "Don't be alarmed for your brother."
Al moved to Edward's bed and Riza eyed him cautiously, ready to duck or dodge his unforgiving armor as he hovered anxiously over his brother.
"I will arrange your travel to Creta," Mustang said as he began to leave, "and I will arrange an escort to accompany you. You will go, but only by following my orders, is that clear?"
Edward blinked at the change of subject, but then thought, no, it had been the subject all along. Everything else had been important, but only a distraction. He nodded, ignoring the ache of his head. No promises. No binding words that he might not be able to keep. Mustang frowned at the lack, but knew how things stood. He would take what he could get.
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