While he'd never admit it, Roy Mustang is lonely without Fullmetal.

It is not a time-consuming, attention-grabbing, soul-consuming loneliness. He barely even notices it most of the time; it just is there, quiet and background. It usually shows up when he is tired and irritated from politics and wordgames: ah, he thinks, ah. These men are boring, they are old, they are tired, give me Fullmetal. The loneliness is a touchstone, unnecessary except when he has a realization to make about himself, a personal code to decode.

He has asked Fullmetal, once or twice, to stay. Not forever; he could not ask that. Stay awhile. It's for Fullmetal's sake far more than his own -- Fullmetal needs the quest, needs the drive, needs to feel like he's doing something to save his brother. If Fullmetal thought he was letting his brother go -- well. But Fullmetal walks a knife's edge between burn-out and despair, either of which could destroy him. Roy will spot him where he can, say "Rest" or say "Go" or say -- whatever he can say. Whatever he can do. Fullmetal has always turned down the offer to stay, which is good. But even when he turns it down, he stays a day or two. Just until he has a new lead, really. He can sleep over thirty hours at a time; Roy kept track, once. It's a hard knife to walk.

"Just a few days," Fullmetal says, voice low, and Roy's head jerks up. Fullmetal glares at him. "What? I've found a book that I need for our goals, but it'll take a week to get in, and I've gotta be here to receive it."

Roy cannot and will not keep him. It's not that old pithy saying about love and freedom and what will and will not return -- it's not. He cannot afford to be bound by sentimentality like that, and so he is not. He already knows that Fullmetal was never his, and that is fine. Besides, it's the more efficient thing to do; Fullmetal needs to be active, and Roy needs his touchstone. He needs to be calm, centered, and in order to be centered he needs something to be central to, needs something to orbit him, drawn in by gravity but far away.

This is right. He puts his hand in Fullmetal's hair and Fullmetal sighs, somewhere between relief and aggrivation. "Hey, not here."

Fullmetal's braid is corded, hard as rope, woven in and around and out. "Where's your brother?"

"Uh," Fullmetal says, and jerks his braid out of Roy's hand. "He's up in the dorm with a pile of books."

They go back to Roy's house. Havoc drives, and while he grins at them when they get into, he doesn't comment one way or another like another man might. Roy has always appreciated his loyalty and friendship, and turns a blind eye to Havoc's lit cigarette, though Fullmetal makes faces at the scent filling the car. Havoc grins again when they leave, cigarette jerking in his mouth, and skeches a salute.

The door of the house snicks shut behind them and Fullmetal grabs Roy's collar, hauling him down to bite at his neck. The back of his collar is a line of pressure, holding him there, and Fullmetal's teeth scrape hot and dull against him. He presses Fullmetal back against the door, hard, and hears a growl, low and threatening and possessive as Fullmetal bites, sucks, Roy feels himself bruise in a sharp heat and his hips cant forward, rub against Fullmetal's lower belly. Thank god for high-collared shirts, he thinks. Thank god.

Fullmetal growls again, shifts up onto the tip of one toe, hooking Roy's thigh with his other leg. "Now move," he insists, and Roy's breath comes in a stuttering sigh as he grinds against Fullmetal with the soft shush-shush of linen against leather. Fullmetal leaves a line of sucking bites down Roy's throat as he paws at Roy's uniform jacket. The shirt underneath is easier to get open, and Roy prefers button-up shirts for a reason, though most of his men choose sheer undershirts instead. Hands scrape harshly over his chest, a study in contrasts, one hot, callused, slightly shaking, the other cold, with curved, metal edges catching on light hairs and tugging in sharp stings.

A groan, and Fullmetal is loud during sex. He doesn't talk much, usually; Roy considers it a reward when he gets low words or orders. But he makes noise, groaning and moaning and sighing and growling like a cat standing off against another tom. He's got a voice designed for sex, low and husky, and Fullmetal bites on Roy's ear, teeth tugging on the lobe, and sighs, heavily, tongue pressing into Roy's ear.

There is such a thing as too much temptation and Roy doesn't even try to undress him, just slides to his knees and unzips Fullmetal's pants. The tight leather catches on his hips and Roy snarls at it, shoving until it rolls over and is forced to Fullmetal's thighs. That's far enough and Roy closes his eyes, turns his face to one side and mouths at Fullmetal's cock, sliding his lips along the side, sucking lightly, until wiry hair presses against his cheek. Fullmetal smells musky, salty, and he groans, snarls, presses a metal hand tight in a vice-grip against the back of Roy's skull. "Fuck," he says, somewhere between revelation and curse.

Roy moves against the pressure of Fullmetal's hand, tongue a line of pressure along the large vein, sucking and mouthing under the head as Fullmetal's hips jerk in a brief sway. He exhales, sucks air in again, and closes his mouth around the head.

Fullmetal hisses between his teeth, hips jerking forward, hand holding Roy's head still as he thrusts into his mouth. It's an awkward position and his jaw aches but he can't quite bring himself to mind, closes his eyes and lets Fullmetal hold him still, lets Fullmetal fuck his mouth until he finally doubles over and Roy chokes, hands seizing at Fullmetal's hips as he swallows awkwardly. Fullmetal lets go then and Roy pulls back, coughs again dryly, wipes at his lips with the back of one hand. He looks up along the length of Fullmetal's body and Fullmetal is smirking down at him, back planted against the door, eyeslids lowered over clouded gold.

As if drawn, Roy rises and kisses him, a heavy open-mouthed motion until Fullmetal makes a choked noise and pushes him away, nose wrinkled. Roy smirks at him and his eyelids lower again as Fullmetal smirks back.

"I want you," Roy confesses, and Fullmetal's smirk widens.

"Yeah, well," he says, and clears his throat to sound less hoarse. "Bedroom. I refuse to fuck in the hall."

Roy doesn't say a word, simply escorts him firmly to the bedroom. The door shuts and Fullmetal undresses, shucking leather pants with one leg pulled inside out and tossing his shirts carelessly over a chair. Roy lowers his own eyes as he undresses, because if he watches, he'll just keep watching and they have a schedule to keep to, only so much time they can take.

Fullmetal flops onto the bed, lying comfortably on his stomach, half-dozing. It's better this way, Roy knows, he's slower and better when the edge was taken off a few minutes earlier, and he steps over, runs a hand down the length of Fullmetal's spine, watches his back arch like a contented cat.

He makes low, soft noises as Roy prepares him with two oiled fingers, sighing and groaning low, and doesn't protest as Roy pulls him to his knees. He makes a tight noise in his throat as Roy presses in and Roy's own fingers drum tightly on Fullmetal's hips. He is hot and shuddering and after a moment of stillness, he pushes back against Roy in short bumps.

Roy grits his teeth, grasps Fullmetal's sides, and moves, hard and fast.

Fullmetal cries out and his fists clench on the bedsheets. After a few long moments he caves, spine arching down as he gathers himself and shoves back, meeting Roy's thrusts. He starts talking then, finally starts talking, spitting low invective and half-formed nonsense phrases, voice low and breathless and Roy shudders, reaches around to jerk him off. Fullmetal writhes, trying to press forward and back at once, and spits Roy's name and spits Roy's name and Roy sees lights behind his eyelids as he tightens and burns and comes. Fullmetal half-howls with outrage and, gasping for air, Roy jerks him hard, hand moving fast, once, twice, again, until Fullmetal groans, semen spurting over Roy's fingers.

They remain frozen a long moment, their breathing loud and rough, before Fullmetal groans again and folds down, pulling Roy out of him. "God," he mutters, and reaches up, groping behind him to tug Roy down.

They're sweaty, overheated, and the feeling of skin on skin is almost uncomfortable now, itchy, sweaty. They stick when they touch and Fullmetal sighs, moves his arm higher about Roy's shoulders with the sound of reluctant flesh.

"I can't stay long," Fullmetal mutters, voice thick and slow. "Just an hour, maybe."

"I know," Roy says, and tugs Fullmetal a little closer. "But rest for now."