Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ballet and Bullets ❯ Deep Throat ( Chapter 9 )

Of Ballet and Bullets

 

Part 9 - Deep Throat

 

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is violence, adult content, and sexual situations in this story, of which there's a lot in this chapter. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!

 

Story Notes: The authoress is taking a break from the plot for the length of one chapter to bring you . . . smut, like the title alone didn't allude to that. This chapter is entirely avoidable, but heck, no matter how many warnings or disclaimers I give, no one seems to listen. So you might as well sit back and enjoy it! Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is an Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza fic (Two for the price of one!). Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. This fic hinges on a lot more plot compared to the last time out in Overhaul, Overhaul 2, and A Betting Crowd, which I recommend reading before diving into this. This one has violent action scenes, suspense, humor, and mild angst in it, so the sex and romance may be few and far between. In summary, you're all getting what I call a real plot. No, really, I'm actually working on a real plot this time! Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish about reading this, blood splatter included, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end probably. Again, no pieces of automail, skirts, guns, tuxedoes, or ballet dancers were harmed in the production of this piece of . . . well . . .

 

**********

 

After finally finishing the dishes and reorganizing the over-crowded dining room table, Riza Hawkeye took one survey of the apartment, and declared it a disaster area. Paperwork flooded her once clean desk. Her neat row of hooks by the door was overflowing with winter coats. And to top it all of, after the night's mishaps, automail tools were suddenly lying around everywhere. How Edward managed to over-extend his shoulder when he took Hayate for a walk along with Winry, she'd never know. Maybe it had something to do with the snow the pair was covered in when they came back. Mustang had insisted on letting the kids go alone, as an experiment to see if anything would occur. It hadn't, and for her worrying over their safety, she got a wet floor that needed mopping. She was too weary to clean it up or even tell any of them to do it instead.

 

Giving up, Riza plopped down in a chair by the table with a sigh. Since when had her life become so . . . domestic? It was a thought that brought an irritated furrow to Hawkeye's brow. She didn't like being domestic. It made her feel so old, something she sure she wasn't. There was a time and a place for being all family-like, and as long as both Roy and herself were in the military, this wasn't it. She never should have given thought to the possibility of children, no matter how many times they had mused on it already. And yet, the subject brought a smile to her face, remembered when he had asked if he'd be a good father with such innocence to the notion that he could be. Perhaps it was a good thing she had picked a man in her life that could be sensible, childish, and unpredictable as hell at the same time. He would certainly never make her life boring. Roy was a good man at heart, which was what she cared about the most.

 

Slowly, Riza rose up from the chair, side-stepping a wrench in her path towards the bedroom door. The Colonel had already gone into the bedroom a few minute or so before her after tending to the cats, seeing the children to their separate rooms, and then locking down the entryway doors and windows. She had been tempted to tell him to lock the doors of the young alchemist's and his friend's rooms as well, but that would have given voice to her suspicions. The teenagers had lied to her when she had obviously walked in on them earlier, so she assumed correct that the nature of their relationship was not for public dissection.

 

And yet, it made her curious why not. They certainly didn't have enemies to worry about, did they? And why was she so curious to know to begin with? The discovery of phone call yesterday morning pretty much answered her question of something occurring between the pair, didn't it? To ask FullMetal outright would be prying too much. No, she was certain that no matter the state of the relationship between Edward and Winry, she didn't want to know about it or even acknowledge it. To do otherwise, as she opened the door to see Roy getting undressed in the dim light from the dark windows, would be to acknowledge their own hypocrisy of secrecy.

 

He had turned to look at her as she entered the bedroom from over his shoulder, bent over to pick up his discarded black pants, “Tired of cleaning for the night? Or just coming to admire the view?”

 

The grin on his face was beyond incredulous at her uncomfortable blush, enjoying the way she quickly closed the door and skittered sideways towards her closet. Riza ignored the shameless come-on entirely, “I thought you promised to help clean up? You and Edward make such unpleasant house guests.”

 

His grin faltered into a frown as he dropped the pants to spite her, and stood up. She smiled to herself, knowing he wasn't pleased that she side-stepped his advances. Turned away from him, she pulled the clip free from her pale hair, shaking out the fluid length. Riza set the object down on the small vanity she kept then turned to go through her clothes as she spoke, “Tomorrow, please keep the mess down? And take care of that pile of laundry?”

 

“When I'm not dealing with the office or Falman when he visits, sure,” Roy said as she also heard him shuffling around, probably throwing his clothes into the ever expanding pile on her bedroom floor. At least he kept his laundry by his pack and not in with her things in the wash hamper. “Could just alchemize them like the kid does, I bet that lazy brat hasn't done laundry in years,” he muttered as she laughed lightly.

 

Without turning around, she bent down to pull off the modest black boots she wore, followed by her socks. It was hard for Riza to resist the urge to look over her shoulder, feeling his eyes roam over her feet then up her legs to settle on the curve of her rear. She was torn between being flattered and annoyed. He didn't change at all, no matter how many times they'd seen each other stark naked. She just knew that if the two adolescents weren't around for this mini-holiday, or the prevailing sense of danger, he would see to it that she didn't remain clothed for longer than an hour at a time. “Roy, don't you ever get tired of being, well . . . a horny bastard?” she asked as an annoyed tone crept into her voice.

 

“Around you? Perish the thought,” he answered, and she knew he was grinning as he said that, “Besides I did restrain myself last night, didn't I?”

 

She snorted in derision, “Barely.”

 

“Does this mean you're finally getting tired of me, darling?”

 

His question brought a smile to her lips as she slipped open the hook at the top of her calf-length dark grey skirt then slid the zipper down. “Perish the thought.”

 

As soon as the garment hit the floor, Riza looked down to see a pair of dark blue boxers land at her feet. “I still wonder where discretion went,” she said aloud as Roy chuckled, “I'm not joking either, both of them know now for sure. It's only a matter of time before someone higher up puts all the pieces together of you staying night after night in my apartment.”

 

“Like I keep telling you, Havoc is cooking all the reports that get turned in, so can't you enjoy this, us, being together, just once?” He asked as she stood there, unmoved. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she unbuttoned her dark blue collared shirt before hearing his feet on the floor. A hand was at the small of her back suddenly, and her eyes darted up towards the full-length mirror hanging by the closet door. Roy stood over her shoulder, his hand slowly coming round her waist to stop hers on the last button. “I . . .” Riza started to say but the words stuck in her throat when he pulled her back into the rest of his arms.

 

Leaning against Roy's hard chest didn't make the words come out any easier, nor did his hands moving inside of her shirt help. He brushed the collar aside with his face, running his lips delicately over her throat with a low hum. She shuddered out the breath she'd been holding, the reflection of him touching her in the mirror too much to take as her brown eyes closed. “I . . .” she tried to say again with mounting frustration as the words still stuck.

 

His kisses on the bend of her neck stopped, “What is it, Riza?”

 

“I wish . . . we didn't have to sneak around like this . . .” she said as she opened her eyes again and looked at his dark pair in the reflection, “I feel like . . . like we'll never be together the way we want to be . . .”

 

“Don't say that,” Roy whispered in her ear, his voice harsher than normal. “I don't care if we ever make it official. As long as you're still mine, it is enough for me.”

 

Her skin turned bright red in the darkness, the possessiveness in his words striking her deeply. What was she now to him, just an object to have and hold? It angered her a moment until she looked back into his eyes through the mirror. All it took was one look of adoration from him to know that he wasn't speaking purely in heated lust. A delicate shiver ran through her and she pushed her hips back into his. Roy shuddered out a breath, surrendering to the feeling clenching his chest that his words worked both ways. Slowly, a wicked grin moved up her lips as she looked through the reflection. He was as much hers if not more so that she was his, a fact that was reflected in her eyes. Riza's hand traced up his forearm as he held her tighter, burying his face in her yellow hair. “The same principals better apply to you as well and not just me, this . . .” she said as her hands drifted behind his back to his rear, groping him, “This is mine tool.”

 

He growled at the touch as his control snapped, suddenly thrusting her towards the mirror. His dark eyes were looking at her looking at him, and it lit an inferno in him, rapidly growing hard as he pressed forward against her. “Mine,” Roy growled again, and her grip on him tightened.

 

Riza gasped as he tore the last button on her shirt open to expose her black underwear, his hands rough in touching her. The kisses back on her neck were harder as well, sucking on her skin as she squirmed in his hold, fighting him, but not so determined in her struggle. Her nails dug into tender flesh, the only purchase on him she could find as he pushed her up against the cold glass. Roy's hips ground into hers, his hands tugging on her clothes till the shirt came off with a slight ripping sound. She didn't care if it was ruined or not. The only thing the blonde felt at that moment was the maddening need to touch him as she shuddered. Her hands were pried away though and pinned on the wall, only allowing her to feel his body rubbing over the back of hers. The word `bastard' died on her lips, caught up in a ragged moan. “I can't believe that you'd ever get tired of this,” Roy breathed into her burning ears.

 

To make his point, his fingers slid off of her wrists and over the front of her struggling torso. She gave a short cry as one hand yanked roughly on her bra, freeing her breasts before they were mashed against the mirror. His fingers then delved into her panties, but stopped short of touching her where she wanted him too. Why was he stopping? Riza bit back the growl of frustration, staring at her own angry eyes in the reflection while seeing his devious grin. She wanted to kiss that grin away if she could help it, but she wasn't going anywhere pinned like this. His hands pressed her legs open but didn't dare get any closer to the wet, pouting lips except to brush through the thin, blonde curls. Her growl turned into an anguished whine, and his grin in the mirror only got wider. So that was what he was after, she thought, to torture her with want. He could be an evil bastard when he wanted to be. She could feel him hard against the back of her hips, and realized she wasn't the only one craving to be touched.

 

Her back arched into his chest as her head was tossed onto his shoulder. She writhed against him, her hips grinding into his over and over. Roy's breathe on her neck quickened and his fingers itched to touch her. Riza didn't stop trying, even as he pushed her back until she was pressed flat against the mirror. She could feel him caving little by little as his finger got closer to touching her folds. “I can't believe you'd ever get tired of touching me,” she said breathlessly, and he seemed to snap.

 

Mustang hugged her tightly and pulled her backwards, dragging them both towards the bed, “You're right, I could never.”

 

She tried to twist in his arms, but it was useless once they crashed onto the mattress. Riza moaned, loudly as she was pinned under him again, half of his chest covering half of her back. His name came out of her lips, sounding as if she was half delirious and half contemplating where her guns were. He ignored her protesting long enough to slip her black panties down to her knees when she kicked them the rest of the way off. Her bra soon followed, leaving her naked and spread out on her side before him. His breath stuck in his throat along with his heart, admiring her in that heated moment. Roy was certain he didn't tell her enough of how beautiful she was, but as she tried to push up from the bed, he knew she wouldn't care for his ramblings right now. He moved a hand across the back of Riza's hips to the front, his touch teasingly light. She stiffened in his arms when the tips of his fingers touched her center.

 

As his whole palm cupped and rubbed the folds, she cried out, stopping the sound in the sheets. Roy groaned as well, aching for the succulent heat he felt within her. She thrashed under him as he parted the lips and easily slid in two fingers. The hitch in her cries rose steadily as he moved them in and out of her, taking his time as she struggle under him. Riza's rebellion stopped as Roy's other arm hooked over her shoulder and neck to pillow her head, holding her to his chest. She then moved with his hand instead of fighting it, giving in to the rush for more that pulsed in her blood. How little she knew of the effect she had on him as each subtle movement or muffled moan cracked his control. He had wanted to make the woman he loved scream out in passion for him, because of him, because she was his as much as he was hers. And yet why was he the one that felt on edge? Maybe it was because of way she breathlessly said his name, or the way her skin felt against his, soft, yielding, but hiding the strength he knew was there. How could she ever doubt his feelings for her? How could he ever not love her?

 

The kisses he had been planting on her neck all along turned into a nibbling bite as she arched, twisting till her hand touched his skin. She said his name again, forcefully, as if his moving fingers had ripped it from her throat, and it undid him. His hand pulled away, replaced by the tip of his sex at her wet folds. Riza bucked against him weakly from her position on her side, trying to push herself down onto him as he rubbed against her. Roy grabbed her hand as she groped him again, pinning her back down, “Tonight isn't for me, darling, it's to remind you how much I still want you.”

 

Suddenly, his hips shifted up, pushing into her inviting warmth. The fire running along her nerves flared as she came with release too quickly. Her scream went right into his lips as he kissed her, devouring the sound as well as the taste of her mouth. Buried deep within her, he stopped before she dragged him over the edge, wanting to enjoy her shuddering in his grasp at least once before he joined her. Slowly, her breath came down to a light pant as her eyes stared up at his, half-twisted in his arms. He had to grin as he moved slowly inside her, the warm hues of browns and gold, shifting in her irises in the darkness. Roy kept his eyes locked on hers even when she closed them, struggling against his slow thrusts.

 

Each time he moved, it felt as if he was claiming another small part of her sanity, hard and powerful yet agonizingly slow. He wasn't so much proving how much he wanted her, but how much he knew her own desires. Riza's will to lose control was strong, as was her need for more. She wanted more. She wanted him. She wanted to lay as much claim to him as he did to her. And yet, he still kept her waiting, wanting more when another sudden and jolting push made her nerves stand on end just for him. A small whimpering cry escaped her throat and she could feel him grinning against her neck. His other arm wrapped over her, drifting between her breasts to fondle them and down over her stomach. Slowly, the hand moved between her, touching her clit till she nearly screeched. Her nails scratched over the cat claw marks from the day before, adding new ones to Roy's skin as he hissed. The tenderness was gone in his next push and each one there after. His control had finally slipped as he pounded into her again in desperation. Even his hand had picked up speed to rub her more. Despite herself, the blonde grinned, wrapped up tightly in his arms to lose herself in them. “Mine,” she whispered in a short breath, and he didn't argue with her over it.

 

Riza cried out in release soon after, but Mustang didn't stop it with his mouth as he was too busy with his own shout for it to matter. Her body arched against his, shuddering as she tossed. Despite how roughly he had taken her, the euphoria still felt the same, along with the warmth. She'd never get tired of that feeling of completeness in his arms, and somehow she was sure it was a sentiment he shared as well. With one last push inside her, his seed spilled as her walls tightened around him. After the beating of her heart had died down, all she could hear was his breath over her ear, “You're going to be the death of me . . .”

 

Despite how sweaty she was, and how quickly her body cooled without clothes or even a blanket covering them, Riza smiled softly. It was a morbid prophetic statement, but it was still sweet, “You know, they used to call an orgasm `a little death'.”

 

“Then I'll gladly die thousands of them as long as they're for you,” he muttered, grinning again as he kissed her shoulder, “With you, `inside' of you.”

 

The blush across Hawkeye's face could have lit up the whole room if he had noticed it. So . . . maybe her little fears were unfounded, maybe this could work out, even if their relationship felt more and more like a dirty secret than something normal. But what part of her life was ever normal to begin with? When they had started seeing one another months ago, trouble seemed like it was waiting to happen, but now? Maybe, just maybe, everything in their little world would be ok enough for her request to become a reality, one day.

 

Roy lovingly nuzzled the back of her neck, tickling the hairs with his rough, unshaved face as she giggled at the slight burn. She couldn't wait for that one day to come quick enough.

 

*********

 

Edward was nearly shaking with nervousness in his bed after the noise from the bedroom across the hall had died down. It must have been a good night for those two as they were louder than ever before. Of course they were fine, he thought with a smirk. Even he could feel the sexual tension the both of them radiated around each other almost every second of the day since he finally knew what was happening. The tension permeated the damned air of the apartment like bad perfume, just twice as effective. With Winry there as well, even he felt a growing need for release once he was alone with the mechanic that only grew stronger. That would explain why he nearly jumped her earlier when she was checking his arm and checking out the rest of him. It also explained how their walk in the snow had turned into a wrestling match then into a snow ball fight when she put a piece of ice down his pants to cool him off. And it would explain why he couldn't sleep while waiting for her, his metal leg jittering in anticipation.

 

He did as she said and kept the door partially open for her before getting into bed. He even lit a few candles by his bedside so that he could see her when she arrived. Hell, he was almost tempted to shed the boxers he'd kept on too, but that could be embarrassing in the morning if she never showed up.

 

If she never showed up, there was a scary thought. He'd probably died of pent up longing if that happened. Maybe he should have gone to her instead like he normally did in the Rockbell's house in Rizembool. Ed had no idea how that pattern started the first night or the subsequent nights, only that it was always him coming to her. This was the first time the situation was reversed, and it unnerved him. Probably because tonight of all nights, he didn't want to wait. With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from the door, trying to still his foot as much as his thoughts. Getting up to glance over his shoulder, he noticed the puppy was already out cold on his dog bed. At least someone in that apartment was getting some sleep. Sluggishly, his mind started to wander off of his little mechanic girl and off into sleep. He was almost gone into dreamland when the light sheet covering him was lifted and a finger traced up the middle of his back. Edward jolted up right in the bed with a startled bounce, his eyes locking onto Winry's as she knelt next to him on the mattress, giggling, “You're not going to sleep through this are you?”

 

The shocked look in his amber eyes quickly turned into a smirk, “Maybe, if you're just going to sit there all night that is.”

 

She giggled again and got up as he lunged to grab her. The blonde's laughter only got louder as he missed her and cursed. “We're doing things my way tonight,” she announced as she moved towards the end of the bed.

 

Ed's eyes were fixated on her, taking in the fact that she was still fully clothed in what she wore that day. He smirked, again, “And if I disagree?”

 

“Then you'll miss the show.”

 

Curiosity peaked, a single golden eyebrow arched upwards at her words. His smirk turned into a licentious grin, “Do I just sit back and enjoy?”

 

Winry was grinning as well, leaning over the low footboard of the bed, “Not yet you don't. You're still dressed.”

 

He blinked, “You noticed, didn't you?”

 

Her head bobbed suddenly with a shift of pale yellow hair, “Take them off, Edward, but don't move the sheet as you do it. Then, untie your braid.”

 

For a moment, his heart clenched as if someone had grabbed it in his chest and gently squeezed. It only ever did that around her, but not recently, not since he thought he'd come to terms with their relationship. Maybe it was because she was suddenly ordering him around in something aside from automail. As the Colonel could attest to, he didn't like orders too much. And yet, there was something in the way her blues eyes stared at him as she was enshrouded in darkness that made his fingers want to obey her. As his hands slowly moved under the covers, her tongue slipped out to wet her pink lips, biting them as she watched. Suddenly, he couldn't comply fast enough.

 

He slipped the underwear down his hips with one hand while the other held the sheet up like she told him. With some wiggling in the bed, he pulled the boxers out from under the bedding and held them up for her inspection as she cooed, playfully rapturous, “Ooooh, back to light blue I see.”

 

Ed flung the garment at Winry as she giggled, catching and dropping them on the floor without a second thought. With a smirk, he pulled his hair free of the braid and shook the golden strands loose before tossing the tie on to the bedside table. “Now what?” he muttered as he leaned back on his elbows, the sheet hanging down around his hips.

 

“Just stay like that, I'll do the rest,” she said, a warm smile tugged up her lips. He felt the clench in his heart again, only this time it seemed more soothing as the pain stopped. Her eyes remained locked on his while she pulled a similar tie loose from her hair, the pale locks falling across her back with a gentle sway. Pulling up her long skirt, Winry placed her foot on the end of the bed then methodically undid the laces of her black boot before slipping it off. His eyes slowly drifted off of hers to the exposed leg, noticing the way the thin, icy blue wool hung above her knee. With a tilt to his head, he could see tantalizing glimpses of what was under the material, long, white knit stockings, something frilly holding them up, and skin. That last part brought a grin to his face before the leg and skirt fell back from the bed to be replaced by the opposite limb. Watching her fingers work on the footwear again, his eyes moved up her calf once more, his head tilted to the other side for another look. A giggle from her rooted his attention back to her eyes as they sparkled with mirth in the darkness, “See something you like?”

 

If his voice wasn't stuck somewhere between his heart and his balls, Edward would have answered her with a resounding, `Yes!'

 

But coherency wasn't going to happen any time soon. The young alchemist intelligence only seemed to grow more debase as she turned around, her hands posed at the clasp and zipper of her skirt. Winry's smile widened at the dumbstruck look on his face while glancing over her shoulder, pulling the closures open and slid the wool down her legs. His mouth had fallen along with the garment, a familiar warmth spreading over his skin the more he looked. Her shirt hung over her hips, hiding her underwear, but it didn't cover the thigh high white stockings she wore. Each one was held up by a slim band of white lace threaded with pink ribbons. If it didn't look so provocative against her skin, he would have thought it was cute, adorably cute. Winry and cute seemed to be a good combination the more he thought about it. And yet, at that moment, if she was indeed cute, it was in an innocently seductive way. She turned around, and his eyes darted to her lips, noticing the way she bit the bottom half with a sheepish look in her blue eyes. It was an act. He knew it, but it was very effective. Edward gulped loudly on the dry lump in his throat.

 

Slowly, her hand traced the bottom edge of her pale violet shirt, skimming the top of her thighs till she was almost touching herself, “So, you like pink? I thought your favorite color was black?”

 

“On you, does it really matter?” he said, surprising himself with how easily the words came to him without blushing or stammering. He was getting better at this flirting thing till he sounded downright smooth. His self-congratulation only got stronger as she blushed, inching the shirt up over her hips. And yet, his internal cheering section ground to a halt once the first glimpse of her panties came into view. Who knew sheer white lace could be so small and still cover everything it needed to? They barely skimmed the top of her hips, tied in stringy bows that could easily be untied or snapped lost. Oh, and the pink! The color was so subtly threaded in the lace that he barely noticed it against her skin. From a distance, he could see the sheen on the silky surface, soft and begging to be touched. His mouth went from dry to salivating. Where in all of Rizembool could she buy lingerie like that?! And did she have even more stashed away somewhere?

 

Ed's drooled at the thought while his amber eyes drifted back up to Winry's before dropping back down to her hands. The warmth from his stomach down into his loins grew into burning heat, mesmerized as she lifted the shirt more. The more skin the mechanic exposed, the more his breath became labored till he was just about choking as the fabric peeled away from her chest. More white lace and pink thread made up the brassiere, and it was so feminine to look at. He idly wondered if this was the first time he'd seen her in something so scandalous yet girly and impractical. It was had to be as every other time Winry's underwear was decidedly simple or just not there. To think that she had been dressed up like this all day long, and for him, was gratifying, his heart bursting with pride and admiration. She had excellent taste too.

 

She pulled the lavender shirt off finally and dropped it on the floor. Her hands then moved behind her back till Ed nearly jumped out of the bed, “No!”

 

Winry froze, her eyes wide in surprised before annoyance set in and her brow twitched. The alchemist's voice picked a hell of a time to let him down by not cooperating, “I-I-I, uhh, let me get that? Please?”

 

Instead of being upset like he thought she might be, the girl smiled instead, leaning over the end of the bed, “If you insist.”

 

Ed's mouth dropped open again when she knelt onto the mattress and climbed up on her hands and knees, the top of her breasts calling to him from under their confinement. With a start, he felt the thin sheet covering his hips and legs move. Looking down, he saw her hand tug on the fabric till he was barely covered anymore. He could feel her eyes on the bulge underneath caused by his sex, growing harder the longer he anticipated her next tug that didn't come. Normally, he didn't give two wits about being naked, especially around her. And yet, seeing her all dressed up like that, and looking at him as if she could see through the thin material, was playing havoc with his nerves. Did she want him to touch her yet? What was she waiting for? He wasn't about to screw this up by trusting his impulse. “Winry . . .” he said softly, almost choking on her name in his throat, “I . . .”

 

Damn, what was he trying to say that she didn't know already? Her blue eyes looked up to his again, and she smiled, “Relax, Ed. You know, sometimes you act like you got a few screws twisted too tightly.”

 

He scowled at her, momentarily forgetting about how much he wanted her, till the sheet was ripped away. Edward inhaled sharply at the rush of cool air on his burning skin, resisting the urge to cover himself. It wasn't like she hadn't seen `it' before, but all he could feel was her eyes on him till he was twitching. Her fingers delicately touched the calf of his right leg, brushing the light blond hairs as he flinched hard. He didn't dare move, growing harder the closer her hand moved up his leg till he was painfully stiff. Slowly, Winry crawled up over him, his amber eyes torn between watching the trail of her hand on his flushed skin and the shift of her body as she towered over him. Unconsciously, his legs opened to let her kneel between them, too stunned to resist as she leaned down. While his grin had been downright dumb throughout her seductive stripping, the look on the young alchemist face slipped into longing before his eyes closed. He finally did as she told him. He relaxed.

 

Craning his neck up, Edward kissed her, languidly nibbling on her lips. Sighing softly, the mechanic tilted her head, darting her tongue into his mouth when it opened. Her body pressed down on his, soft lace against hardened flesh and metal. Ed fell back on the bed, dragging Winry down with him as his arms wrapped over her figure. Her mouth kissed him harder, with nearly bruising force as she clasped his neck. She moaned in the back of her throat. The sound was barely audible over the pounding of Ed's blood in his ears, but he heard it. Just that tiny noise was enough to snap his restraint as he rolled them over.

 

Winry gasped as she found herself looking up at him, golden hair shading the look in his eyes as he backed away from her lips. His hands slid from her back to her stomach, making her suck in a hiss at the touch of cold metal and warm skin. His fingers crept over her till they were at her breasts, pawing at the lace. “Pretty . . .” Ed said, sounding downright delirious.

 

It brought a victorious gleam to her blue eyes when he wasn't looking, “So nice of you to approve.”

 

Edward didn't say anything at her quip, grabbing at the soft globe instead as she gasped. He kissed her neck, feeling her pulse quicken before sliding down against her. Whether Winry knew it or not, her hips moved on their own as soon as he forced her legs open with a knee. With a moan, she ground against his thigh, hugging his head to her tightly. Groaning, Ed's hands pulled at the bra, trying to remove it, rip it, something to get it out of his path. No, it was too pretty to destroy, but he'd be damned if it stayed on her much. Sensing his distress, the girl under him arched her back off the bed till the objects of his desire were pressed intimately under his nose. “Clasp's in the back. Don't rip, please?” she asked breathlessly, knowing what happened to the last, and significantly cheaper, bra she wore around him.

 

Growling, Ed's hands wrapped over her, grabbing the material. His cheek, meanwhile, felt the hardening bud of a nipple through the silky lace, distracting him. Grinning, his head turned till his lips touched the sensitive point, feeling her sudden in the contact. Edward's mouth latched onto it, ripping a cry from Winry's voice as she writhed. Her hips rose up as well to press into his, too quick as he pulled away slightly. Pushing her back down roughly, his hands finally undid the garment before taking it off of her with an untangling of limbs and throwing it off the bed. The girl giggled as she saw it hit the door and slid down, one strap hooking on the handle. Yet, the sound she made was abruptly cut off with another moan as his mouth went back to her breasts, joined by his hands. Her fingers tangled in Ed's hair, giving him encouragement that he didn't need as he nipped and sucked, just enough to leave her sighing in bliss. She breathed his name, and it felt like music to his ears. He wanted to stay like that in her embrace, but the fire in his blood was too great to ignore as he slid down over her.

 

If she was his desert for the night, he'd be damned if he didn't enjoy a taste of her.

 

No sooner had Winry moaned in disappointment when he kissed just above her navel. His hand alternatively caressed and gripped her hips, seeming torn between pinning and teasing her as his mouth touched the soft material. She tossed on the bed at feeling his mouth over her center, the sensation sparking along her nerves. As soon as Ed's tongue licked the delicate surface, she cried out from the tension, bucking up to feel more. She could feel him grinning as her legs tried to wrap over his head only to be forced back down, and it infuriated her. He was taking so long, and enjoying her suffering as she fitfully squirmed. His mouth nuzzled her cloth-covered mound again, and she arched again, thoughts of retaliation broken. This time he didn't back off, his mouth latching onto her entirely through the material.

 

Dimly, she was aware of his fingers pulling at the bows on her hips, knowing that the last barrier of fabric between them was undone. It wasn't like it mattered. Between his mouth and her own excitement, the lace clinging to her was so wet that he had to peel it off of her center when he stopped long enough to bother removing it. The panties soon followed the rest of her clothes on the floor, somewhere. And yet, feeling his mouth consume the whole of her being in those heated moments was greater pleasure than she could ever hope for. Each lick made her twitch and writhe like she'd been shocked, taking all her effort to keep from screaming as his mouth captured her clit. Edward didn't slow down to give her a chance to catch her breath, gentle sucking on the engorged nub till she snapped. He knew it was exactly what she wanted, needed, getting better all the time at reading her like one of his books. And it brought a grin to his face even as he was busy buried between her legs, knowing that above him the rest of Winry was in heaven because of him.

 

Her release came with a cry and a quake, biting her hand to keep from screaming in the dead of night as she rode through the waves. The sensations went right through her, leaving her breathless and shaking till it was washed away. Winry's body moved as if possessed, driving his face against her as the fingers of her other hand clenched in his hair. Eventually, her breath evened out, warily opening her eyes to see the alchemist staring back at her. Despite how mauled his hair looked, and the wetness on his mouth and chin, he looked happy, very happy. The same expression of contentment was probably plastered all over her face as well, even if it was in the form of a silly beaming smile.

 

Ed started to get up, wasting no time in climbing on top of her, but then stopped as he felt her hand brush down his side to his hip. Her hand gripped him suddenly and he shuddered, tempted to push her away, but didn't. The heated look in her blue eyes paralyzed him, groaning as he unconsciously moved in her hand. He bent down to kiss her, to sink into her warmth despite. But as soon as their lips touched, Winry's arms and legs caught him, rolling them over till they were precariously hanging near the end of the bed. She straddled his hips, sitting up with a delicious grin on her face as her other hand ran down his chest. Her grip on him tightened, making him buck upwards until he could feel her folds part around him. The girl sunk down slowly with a moan, and it took all his control to keep from turning her back and pounding in to her.

 

She told him to relax after all, and when was the last time he'd done that?

 

Winry's hips rolled and his thoughts scattered. Oh, how he missed her, the cure to all his worries even if she opened up new ones. If anyone even knew that the beautiful mechanic was his growing weakness . . . The blond girl moaned, leaning over him as she moved. Edward moved with her, trying to banish the thoughts with each thrust inside of her. It was dangerous for her to be in Central and this close to him. How could he so stupid? Squinting his amber eyes shut, he pushed hard up into her, rewarded in her cry. He had to stop thinking, but his mind wouldn't shut off that line of thought no matter how much he tried. Winry gave up trying to stay sitting atop of him, clinging instead to his neck. With a grunt, Ed rolled them over till he could plow straight into her, moving faster. She arched into his chest, sweat pouring over both of them.

 

His metal hand brushed over her cheek while his thumb touched her lips, the sound of her voice ringing through the steel. It was gut-wrenching to watch her move under him, tugging on the string of his heart. If he lost her too . . . His chest tightened in pain even if the rest of his small body sung with pleasure. Guess he really did love her. Edward kissed her desperately, and did almost the unthinkable, he slowed down. For a moment, a confused look came over the girl's face when she pulled away at least until she looked into the alchemist's eyes. He tugged her mouth close for another kiss, thrusting in and out of her slowly, yet deliberately hard, as if he was trying to tell her something without actually saying it. Kissing him back as her nails dug into his skin, Winry got the message clearly before she shook.

 

Edward watched her climax spread over her face before he even felt it in the tightening of her walls. Her head violently pressed back into the pillow, her mouth twisting in a silent scream that would have looked like she was in pain if she hadn't breathed his name so adoringly. Winry's body arched under his then collapsed as he finally joined her, burying his face between her shoulder and breasts to muffle the sound of his release. After one last thrust, Ed finally relaxed on top of her, nearly twitching. If he was heavy, the girl under him didn't complain. She didn't even move except to brush the top of his head, her fingers tangled in his hair. It was a soothing gesture, and yet, it didn't calm the troubles on his mind.

 

Laying there on top of her warm body, his thoughts drifted back to the previous subject, her, or rather her protection. He never should have given her that flimsy excuse earlier. In honesty, he didn't give a rat's ass if Mustang ever knew. Al . . . ok, that was a different matter, one he wanted to tell his brother eventually on his own. But what if someone else, like these snipers, ever found out how much Winry did matter to him? His heart was scarred enough as it was, if she was taken too . . . It was for her own protection that he didn't broadcast his feeling for her, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty for lying to her. Maybe he should have admitted to her the real reason `why' he invited her, or why he didn't want anyone else to know about their relationship. It was for her own protection, just the sound of that phrase in his head again made him feel like a coward.

 

Groaning, Ed buried his face between her breasts, the warmth blanketing him while willing himself to forget. They were safe, for now, which was all that was important, and he'd protect her. Winry shifted under him with a moan, her legs still loosely spread and tangled up with his. Stretching, he moved till his head was on the pillow beside hers, but didn't roll off, wanting to be close to her. “This . . .?” he started to ask softly until she murmured, wrapping her arms over him.

 

With a grin, he realized that she was already out. Sighing, he knew he didn't feel much better, exhausted as he tried to get comfortable despite the lack of covers. Eh, he was warm anyway, just tired, and Winry would push him off rather than wake him up to complain. Ed started to fall asleep finally, watching her lips move in slumber. The sound she made vaguely sounded like, “. . . love you.”

 

He knew that the words on her lips as she dreamed were for him, and it made him smile before he passed out, knowing the sentiments were very much mutual.

 

**********

 

It was with much reluctance that Riza pried Roy's arms off of her, trying to get out of the bed they shared. The morning sun was much too bright through the window for them to still be sleeping. She sat up stiffly, and looked at the disaster her room was in. When she was sure she couldn't wish the bedroom back to cleanliness, the blond woman crawled over the man sleeping next to her, purposefully poking him with her knee as she went. With a start, the Colonel groggily jolted up before flopping back down, “Damn it, Riza, too early.”

 

“You and FullMetal have appointments with the tailor, and I have to go to the dressmaker's with Winry. Get up,” she said mercilessly. Hawkeye wobbled to her feet, trying not to curse at how her knees felt like gelatin. It was all his fault for being so rough last night that she was sore, scowling at him before she grabbed her robe. She slipped into it, watching his back turn towards her as he rolled over. “Roy . . .” she said threateningly, yet he didn't even flinch at the sound.

 

Mustang didn't move from the bed at all, trying to get back to that state of being dead to the world that he enjoyed. Riza's bed was softer than his as he practically sank into it, making falling asleep in it the easiest thing in the world. He didn't want to leave it, at least not until she pulled on his ear like she was scolding a child. “Ow! Ow! Ok! Getting up! Getting up!” he said as he obediently followed the tugging of her hand to avoid the pain.

 

Riza smiled, much happier as he finally stood up and headed for the door, groggily. He was about to walk naked out the door way when he turned to her, still sounding sleepy while rubbing his eyes, “Kids aren't up?”

 

“Doesn't sound like it.”

 

His hands fell away from his eyes, slowly widening with intelligence as she could just see the wheels in his head turning. He was grinning much too much to be thinking of anything good. “Want to share the shower then?” he asked, his voice low, hinting that efficiency and cleanliness were not his reasons for proposing the idea.

 

Riza blushed. Of course, she should have expected him to ask that. She wouldn't have expected anything less from him. At least he didn't wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at her to go with the question. “Roy . . . Go,” she said, looking too stern to be taken as anything but a flat refusal.

 

Crestfallen, the dark-haired man trudged down the hall. She shook her head, not having time at the moment to deal with stroking his, well, `ego'. Once he was in the bathroom, Riza turned towards the bedroom door across from hers, intending to wake up the young alchemist. Given how hard it had been to get him moving the day before when it was even earlier, she expected him to be a little sluggish this morning. At least he wasn't too lazy in the morning unlike the Colonel. Sighing, she turned the handle and stuck her head in only to deeply regret it.

 

It was times like these that she wished she wasn't so right about her intuitive feeling. She wasn't at all prepared for what she saw. There were two underage occupants in the bed, two very naked, underage occupants using each other as bedding. Edward's head was very comfortably pillowed on Winry's shoulder and breast. The rest of his body wonderfully imitated a blanket, a flesh and metal blanket as the sheets were gone off the end of the bed. And from the clothes thrown everywhere along with the scent, she knew, just knew, what had happened. The sight was more of the alchemist and his mechanic than she ever wanted to see in her life.

 

The Lieutenant closed the door hastily, trying to banish the image now ingrained in her mind. Her face flushed bright red, embarrassed beyond belief. So much for the childlike innocence of FullMetal and Miss Rockbell as that image was now irreparably cracked in her head. Knowing about a relationship was one thing, physically seeing it was something entirely else. What was she going to do? If Roy found them like that, he'd explode or worse, take pictures to blackmail the young alchemist with later. She had to wake them up, and was just about to turn the door knob again when she stopped. Somehow, Riza couldn't bring herself intrude on them so abruptly, not after what she saw, possibly because it would require looking at them again. Smiling slightly, she realized there was a simpler, better way.

 

Instead, Riza rapped her knuckles on the wood, knocking loud enough that she knew she'd be heard. Sure enough, no sooner had her hand stopped when there was a thud of a body hitting the wooden floor followed by Hayate's barking. They were awake. Her work was done, or was it only beginning? Roy took quick showers . . . unless he was distracted. Smirking to herself, Hawkeye turned and quickly headed down the hallway to the bathroom and the sound of running water. After this, if Edward ever said she never did anything for him, he was a damned liar.

 

**********

 

To Be Continued in Of Ballet and Bullets, Part 10, Prêt-a-Porte