Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Unleashed ❯ Chapter 1 -- Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

(This story is a sequel to my previous Fullmetal Alchemist fics, ÒAduration,Ó ÒBy the BookÓ and ÒSnake in the Playpen.Ó In these fics, Edward Elric returned to Amestris and took up his old position with the military when he found out his brother had become a State Alchemist in his absence. The country of Amestris is developing its first truly democratic government in decades, but there is still political unrest, and various factions jockeying for power -- one of which is resorting to using plant-derived alchemical bombs called megaweapons and ultraweapons. While pursuing this gang, Edward was reunited with Russell Tringham, and the two fell in love. Edward and Russell managed to catch one faction of the gang in Xenotime and a second during an assignment in which Ed went undercover in a bordello called Madame MarieÕs, where one of the workers was collecting military secrets from its well-conncted patrons. But they have yet to capture the ringleaders of the gang -- and it is here that our story begins . . .)


UNLEASHED
A Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfic With Lemon

by Sailor Mac

PART ONE: SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

Edward Elric decided a long time ago that he really, really hated the chairs in MustangÕs office.

He wasnÕt too fond of the entire military complex, actually, which had changed very little since the reign of Fuhrer Bradley. The lights in the hall were too glaringly bright, making everything look washed-out and not-quite-real. The doors *always* squeaked when you opened them, no matter how much oil or alchemy was applied to the hinges.

But it was those *chairs* that were the worst of all. No matter which one you sat in, they always seemed to have small bumps, flaws in the surface . . . just enough to make you feel *not comfortable*.

And he felt like heÕd spent half his life in them, listening to Mustang drone on and on about whatever the next mission was. Since he got back from Munich, it was catch this petty criminal, look into that misuse of alchemy, go talk to those people who are doing a study of the Fifth Lab incident . . .

But, mostly, it was one dead end alley after another when it came to the bomber case.

Ò. . . think we have a real lead this time,Ó his commanding officer was saying, looking through a folder of some sort (wearing his gloves, Ed noticed -- and wouldnÕt it be amusing if he accidentally ignited the paper and cardboard?).

ÒYeah, yeah, I know,Ó Ed said, sinking deeper into the seat and feeling yet another irritating bump digging into his flesh right below the point where the automail joined it. ÒYouÕre sending me off on another wild goose chase.Ó

ÒI wouldnÕt be so harsh to judge our intelligence department,Ó Roy said. ÒThey *did* give us a good lead in the Maggie McNeill case.Ó

ÒAnd you *enjoyed* that one, didnÕt you?Ó Ed snapped. ÒSending me into a whorehouse, making me wear a leather corset . . .Ó

ÒFullmetal, do you think I sent you on that assignment to *humiliate* you?Ó Roy said, leaning over with his head resting on his folded hands. ÒIf I was going to do that, I would have had you wearing a more *interesting* outfit.Ó

ÒLike what?Ó Ed snapped. ÒA French maid uniform?Ó

ÒWell, you have to admit that *would* flatter your form,Ó Roy said, regarding Ed much too cooly.

ÒThe hell it would!Ó Ed barked. ÒIÕm surprised you didnÕt pass pictures of me in the damn corset around the whole office!Ó

ÒUnfortunately, the budget didnÕt allow that,Ó Roy said.

Ed bit back a Ògo to hell,Ó make a grunting noise and looked away.

ÒWe didnÕt come here to discuss your wardrobe, though,Ó Roy said, picking up the folder again.

ÒWhat is it?Ó Ed said, still looking away. ÒYet another vague tip about somebody who might lead to someone who might lead to someone else?Ó

ÒActually,Ó Roy said, pulling out a paper, Òwe have information that may pinpoint the headquarters of the group leadership.Ó

ÒWeÕve heard that one before,Ó Ed grumbled.

ÒNo, this seems to be genuine.Ó Roy held the paper out toward Ed. ÒEver heard of Kestrel?Ó

Ed sat up a bit. ÒKestrel?Ó he said. ÒThatÕs in the mountains, isnÕt it?Ó

ÒHalfway between Xenotime and Aquroya,Ó Roy said. ÒIt seems that two of the prisoners you rounded up before were overheard by one of the guards discussing the place -- and they indicated that the leadership might be based there.Ó

ÒThatÕs all youÕve got on the place?Ó Ed said. ÒDoesnÕt sound like much to go on.Ó

ÒWe did some preliminary investigation,Ó Roy said, Òand we found out that Kestrel is remote enough to serve as a hiding place, yet connected enough to civilization to get messages in and out. Apparently, it was a base for smugglers at one point, so. . . it does have a past.Ó

Ed thought this over for a bit. It did fit the gangÕs previous patterns for choosing bases of operation. A fairly upper-class place in the middle of nowhere, somewhere you wouldnÕt expect to find criminals . . .

He looked up at Roy. ÒI hate to admit it, but it makes sense.Ó

ÒI told you it wasnÕt another wild goose chase,Ó Roy said. ÒWeÕve already booked two rooms at the inn in town. If anybody asks what state alchemists are doing there, you tell them you had a lead about a smuggling operation based in that town.Ó

ÒWell, since you used Ôalchemists,Õ plural, guess that means Al is in on this assignment too,Ó Ed said. ÒHow come you didnÕt invite him to this briefing?Ó

ÒI spoke to Armor earlier,Ó Roy replied. ÒHe came in with the younger Tringham brother to deliver the results of some plant experiments. IÕm surprised you didnÕt know that, Fullmetal, since you and your brother are usually inseparable . . .Ó

Ed flushed. When Fletcher and Al had been transporting those plants, he and Russell had been in the bathroom, in the shower, engaged in an activity he most definitely could *not* tell Mustang about. In fact, RoyÕs call had come just as they were finishing up.

ÒI was running an errand at the time!Ó he snapped, too quickly.

ÒHowever, there *is* something I was remiss about,Ó Roy said calmly. ÒI should have invited the elder Tringham to the meeting. I want him in on this as well.Ó

ÒRussell?Ó Ed said, nearly leaping out of his seat. ÒYouÕre gonna drag *Russell* into military business again?Ó

ÒHe *is* a civilian consultant,Ó Roy noted, setting the folder down.

ÒA *consultant*!Ó Ed exclaimed, feeling like there were veins popping out of his head. ÒThat doesnÕt make him a full-blown dog of the military for you to send into danger all the time!Ó

ÒHe has proved himself very useful in the past,Ó Roy said. ÒHe was crucial to the Maggie McNeill case, and he helped you develop the megaweapon formula. Besides . . . you two *do* work very well together.Ó

Ed gritted his teeth. He often wondered just how much Mustang knew about his and RussellÕs relationship, and if he was teasing him about it.

Worse, he was worried that Russell would get used to working with the military, that he would come to like it, and that he would be tempted to become a State Alchemist himself. That was the last thing in the world he wanted. He was trying to get himself and Al *out* of the military -- he didnÕt need his lover going *into* it!

ÒIf he comes along, he does research only,Ó he said. ÒNo combat!Ó

ÒOf course,Ó Roy stated. ÒThatÕs what heÕs there for, isnÕt it?Ó

ÒIf anything happens to him,Ó Ed said, leaning forward again, Òso help me, Mustang, IÕll . . .Ó

ÒIÕm sure heÕll be fine,Ó Roy said calmly. ÒNow, here is the information you need.Ó He handed Ed the folder. ÒYour train leaves tomorrow morning at seven sharp.Ó

Ed nearly snatched the proffered item. The damn thing stuck to his gloves like they always did. He knew that it was made of special alchemic material that was designed to disintegrate into a cloud of dust with a loud *poof* after a certain period of time -- usually while he was reading it, leaving crap in his hair and on his clothes that he wouldnÕt be able to get rid of for days.

It all had less to do with security than it did with MustangÕs love of the dramatic, he was sure.

He couldnÕt believe the nerve of that bastard. Bad enough that Al was a State Alchemist -- hell, Ed wouldnÕt have rejoined himself if not for that -- but now, Mustang had to send Russell out in the field with them as well . . .

But still, this was the first *real lead* on the gang leaders theyÕd had in a long time, and that was a very, very good thing. Because it meant that this long case might finally be *over*, and he could leave the military for good. That was the bargain heÕd struck with Mustang -- once the extremists were caught, he was out of there.

And he wanted it to be over, for Al and Russell to be out of danger, more than almost anything.

* * *

He was decidedly grumpy as he walked into the Tringham living room. Al was sitting on the couch, looking at a map -- of Kestrel, Ed was sure.

ÒHi, Brother,Ó Al said. ÒYou might want to get in touch with General Mustang, he said that we . . .Ó

ÒI talked to him already,Ó Ed grumbled, flopping down on the chair.

ÒIt sounds like weÕre actually close this time,Ó Al said, starting to fold up his map. ÒOnce we get there, IÕm sure it wonÕt be long until we catch . . .Ó

ÒYeah, yeah, weÕve heard that one before.Ó He draped a hand over his eyes. ÒItÕs just like when we were searching for the Stone, Al. One dead end after another. You think youÕre getting close, and then . . . nothing.Ó

Al was quiet, and Ed felt a pang deep inside. It was so easy to forget sometimes that Al had no memory of their search for the PhilosopherÕs Stone, that he didnÕt know what Ed was talking about when he brought up things like that.

Al tucked the map into the pocket of his coat and said, quietly, ÒI believe that this time weÕll do it, Brother. You and I . . .Ó

ÒItÕs not just you and I, Al,Ó Ed said. ÒMustangÕs decided to drag Russell into it.Ó

ÒWell, he can help,Ó Al said. ÒHe has before.Ó

ÒDammit, IÕm sick of worrying about the two of you!Ó Ed jumped out of his chair and started to pace. ÒAnd Fletcher as well! First you become a State Alchemist while IÕm away . . .Ó

ÒI only did it to find you, Brother,Ó Al said, quietly.

ÒThen Russell decides to *help out* the military here and there so he can *keep an eye on me*, and I have to have a lump in the pit of my stomach every time weÕre sent on missions.Ó EdÕs pacing grew more rapid, to the point where Al thought he was going to wear grooves in the floor.

ÒI *can* take care of myself, Brother,Ó Al said. ÒI was okay going on missions on my own before you came back.Ó

ÒIf I had been here, you would have never been a State Alchemist!Ó Ed flung himself back into the chair. ÒThe only reason *I* ever worked for those people was because of you!Ó

ÒWell, my working for them now is equivalent exchange, isnÕt it?Ó Al said, kneeling next to Ed.

Ed sat quietly for a moment, remembering the conversation heÕd had with Dante before she sent him through the Gate for the first time, her telling him that there was no equivalent exchange . . .

But he had the proof that there was, right in front of him. Maybe not on an alchemical level, but . . . it was definitely a valid truth.

ÒAl,Ó he said, quietly, Òwe have *got* to stop sacrificing ourselves for each other.Ó

ÒWhen this mission is over,Ó Al said, Òif weÕre successful, we wonÕt have to be in danger anymore, Brother. At all.Ó

Ed swallowed hard. This is what he wanted more than anything. For Al to have a happy life. Maybe even a *permanent* home. They were staying with the Tringhams between missions whenever the other brothers were in Central, but it wasnÕt *home*. Not yet. Not while they still had work to do.

ÒWell, first we have to be successful, donÕt we?Ó he said.

* * *

In the laboratory area of the house, Russell Tringham was sitting on one of the stools by the counter, staring down his brother, who was standing on the other side of the counter, looking rather downtrodden -- but with a hint of steely determination in his eyes.

The call from Mustang had come through while Ed was on his way home. Russell had hoped his brother hadnÕt heard it. Of course, he had.

ÒFletcher,Ó Russell said, Òyou *know* what happened with those people back in Xenotime. You were kidnapped once . . .Ó

ÒAnd do you think IÕm going to be any safer if I stay here by myself while you, Ed and Al are all in Kestrel?Ó Fletcher answered, not looking up.

ÒWe could have you stay in the military dorms,Ó Russell said. ÒYouÕd be safer there.Ó

ÒYou didnÕt have any objections to me going to Madame MarieÕs to help you,Ó Fletcher said, looking up at Russell.

ÒThat was a special case,Ó Russell said. ÒYou were with Al and myself . . . and I think Maggie was a little too occupied with Ed to be thinking much about us. This is different.Ó

ÒBrother, I couldnÕt stand knowing I was just sitting here when I could be helping you out!Ó Fletcher said. ÒYou know these people work with plants. WouldnÕt two plant alchemists be more effective than one?Ó

Russell sighed. FletcherÕs logic was getting harder to fight against. ÒItÕs not worth having something happen to you,Ó he said.

ÒBut Brother . . . if I donÕt help, IÕm afraid something will happen to *you*,Ó Fletcher said, looking down again.

Russell wanted to reply . . . but he knew that anything he said was just going to bounce right off. Fletcher was determined to help him.

ÒAll right,Ó he sighed. ÒYou can go . . . on the condition that you have one of us with you at all times, and you *only* get involved in research.Ó

ÒThank you, Brother,Ó Fletcher said, throwing his arms around Russell, then turning to leave the lab.

*IÕm not the one who needs to be kept safe, Fletcher,* he thought -- even though he knew that his little brother, for all his gentle nature, was strong, and capable, and a damn good alchemist to boot.

He just happened to have been caught with his guard down a single time. And Russell was terrified of that happening again.

* * *

Russell was already under the covers, reading, when Ed came into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed.

ÒDamn Mustang,Ó he grumbled. ÒDonÕt even get a chance to breathe anymore, heÕs always sending us off . . .Ó

Russell put a bookmark in his book and shut it. ÒWasnÕt it that way when you were looking for the Stone?Ó he asked.

ÒThat was different.Ó Ed rolled over on his back. ÒDidnÕt mind it so much then. DidnÕt really think about anything else.Ó

Russell turned so he could drape an arm across EdÕs stomach. ÒI remember what you were like then,Ó he said.

ÒYeah, I remember what you were like, too,Ó Ed said. ÒNo scruples whatsoever.Ó

ÒYes, but at least I had some *class*,Ó Russell said, moving closer to Ed.

ÒSome class,Ó Ed said. ÒEvery other word out of your mouth was a short joke.Ó

ÒAt least it wasnÕt *every* word.Ó Russell threaded his fingers into EdÕs long hair. ÒLook, once this is over, you can start thinking about the future, right?Ó

*I nearly said *we* can start thinking about the future,* Russell thought. He still didnÕt feel a hundred percent confident talking about himself and Ed as a permanent couple. It certainly *felt* that way . . . despite the constant teasing and needling each other, they were more comfortable with each other than anybody else they knew, and being together *felt right.*

They didnÕt exchange a lot of romantic words, other than the occasional ÒLove you.Ó There just didn't seem to be a *need* to. Besides, whenever he wanted to say loving words . . . teasing ones always seemed to come out instead.

ÒMmmm,Ó Ed responded, sleepily, snuggling closer to Russell. ÒJust want it to be over, for AlÕs sake.Ó

Russell wrapped his arms around Ed, pulling him close. ÒYouÕll be fine,Ó he said. ÒBoth of you. I feel sorry for anyone who has to go up against you, and I should know.Ó

Ed sleepily mumbled something that included the words Òcrappy fake stoneÓ but was otherwise unintelligible. There was a short silence, and then a gentle snoring, indicating the older boy was fast asleep.

Russell rested his cheek against EdÕs hair, savoring the silence, the warmth. It was funny how being in love made you appreciate *quiet* moments like nothing else.

To his surprise, he found himself wishing for more of them. A lot more.

* * *

ÒKestrel needs a better train station,Ó Ed grumbled as they stood on the platform, looking around for a cab.

ÒWell, thereÕs not very much to it,Ó Fletcher replied. The whole station consisted of a platform, a small booth where tickets were sold -- and that was it.

ÒGood thing itÕs not raining,Ó Ed said, picking up the same battered suitcase he and Al had used on their journey, way back when. ÒWeÕd be soaked.Ó

ÒAccording to the map I was looking at,Ó Al said, Òthe inn where weÕre staying is near a tavern. ThatÕs probably the first place we should start asking around.Ó

ÒSo what else did you find out about the place?Ó Ed said, as he watched Russell put his hand up to summon a cab.

ÒItÕs got a logging industry and a small chemical plant,Ó Al said. ÒThereÕs some gem mining in the mountains. Also a few businesses that do well exporting stuff to other cities -- shoes, jewelry. There were some rumors a while back of it being a way station for smugglers, but no *real* suspicious activity until now.Ó

ÒJust the kind of place for people like that to hide out,Ó Ed said as they started to load the bags in the trunk. ÒAl, it almost seems *too* obvious.Ó

As the four of them settled within the vehicle, the driver noticed the glint of a pocket watch hanging off AlÕs pants. ÒSo, they finally sent State Alchemists to investigate those break-ins, did they?Ó

The four boys looked at each other. They didnÕt expect a lead this early in the game.

ÒYeah, sure,Ó Ed said in what he hoped was his most convincing voice. ÒWhat can you tell us about them?Ó

ÒThree places broken into in the last two weeks,Ó the driver said as he pulled out and headed for the main road. ÒOne of Ôem was the chemical lab.Ó

*Damn,* Ed thought. *This is *too* easy.* ÒAnd the other two?Ó

ÒMr. Bowers . . . old guy who lives at the edge of town, has quite a bit of money. Family owns one of the bigger logging businesses. Third one was Thomas Kurtz . . . he ainÕt doing too shabby, either. Used to work for the government, that one did . . .Ó

Ed and Russell exchanged another glance. Money, chemicals and possible government papers . . . this definitely sounded like the thief was someone to keep an eye out for.

ÒIs this happening on any kind of a regular basis?Ó Russell said.

ÒIÕd say about once a week,Ó said the driver as he rounded a corner. ÒLast one was about a week ago, in fact.Ó

Ed contemplated this as he watched the passing scenery. Kestrel definitely looked like something frozen in time. Pointy roofs covered in gingerbread decorations rose from the buildings like arrows made of lacy candy. The streets were lined with little carts, piled high with fruits and vegetables, manned by squat little men who looked like they definitely werenÕt the ones who worked the fields themselves. Even the phone booths were little red boxes that looked like they wouldnÕt be out of place on the pages of a childÕs fantasy novel.

It all made him think of Munich, which made him feel uncomfortable. Just the *idea* of slipping back through the Gate again, of ending up closed off from everyone and everything he loved, was absolutely unthinkable.

ÒWell, here you go,Ó the driver said, pulling up to the inn. ÒPretty nice place, if I do say so myself. We always send the mother-in-law there when she visits.Ó

ÒThanks.Ó Ed handed him the fare -- plus a generous tip for the information.

Then, he stepped out of the cab, and there was a loud creaking noise.

Al turned toward him. ÒBrother, did you oil your automail?Ó

ÒYou know I did!Ó he said. ÒYou think I *like* the idea of something happening to it and Winry attacking me?Ó

ÒHe did,Ó Russell said, picking up two of the bags and walking toward the entrance. ÒI saw him do it, promise.Ó

Ò*That* seems to be whatÕs creaking,Ó Fletcher said, pointing down the street. An ancient police vehicle was making its way up the road, its wheels making squeaking noises, smoke belching from its tailpipe.

ÒWell, itÕs easy to see why they have problems with *thieves*, isnÕt it?Ó Ed said. ÒDonÕt think we need to worry about the police getting in the way of what weÕre doing.Ó

ÒActually, theyÕre quite good at what they do,Ó said a female voice behind them. The group turned to see a matronly woman in her early 60s, with short, wavy gray hair and eyes that were almost squinty, wearing a red-and-white checkered dress with a ruffled white apron tied over it. ÒTheyÕve just been slow about getting a new car.Ó

ÒAre you the innkeeper?Ó Ed said.

ÒYes, I am,Ó she said. ÒEudora Miles. And you must be the Elric and Tringham brothers. I have two lovely rooms for you.Ó

ÒSo if this town is doing so well, why are the police not replacing that thing?Ó Ed said as they carried their bags into a lobby that looked like a homey living room. Large plants were scattered about the space, the riot of green stnading out against the overstuffed red leather chairs that surrounded the fireplace. A low table made of dark wood, gleaming like it was made of polished onyx, completed the arrangement.

ÒOh, the mayor has strange priorities sometimes,Ó Mrs. Miles said, going behind her desk and picking up two keys. ÒI think heÕs more interested in supporting national politicians than his own people. The man was happier than anyone when the military government was abolished -- because he knew heÕd have a chance to run the country now.Ó

She handed one key to Ed and one to Russell. ÒStraight down the hall, the two rooms on the end,Ó she said. ÒRight across from each other. I hope you enjoy your stay.Ó

As they started down the hall, Russell wordlessly handed his key to Fletcher. They knew all too well what the rooming arrangements were going to be.

ÒWeÕre going to get settled in and then check out that tavern,Ó Al said as they paused by the doorways.

ÒWeÕll catch up to you,Ó Ed said as Russell unlocked their door.

Once they were inside, Ed flung his suitcase on the floor and his coat on the first chair he found, and flopped on the bed. Russell placed his own more carefully in the corner, and sat beside his lover.

ÒWhat do you think of the place?Ó he said. ÒOther than itÕs better than Madame MarieÕs.Ó

Ed snorted. ÒDoesnÕt take much to meet *that* description, does it? I donÕt know, Russell . . . thereÕs something *odd* about it. Everything looking all clean and neat, and then that crappy police car . . .Ó

ÒUnless the mayor wants to cripple the police deliberately,Ó Russell said, reaching over and fiddling with a bit of hair that had escaped EdÕs ponytail. ÒMaybe *heÕs* in with them.Ó

ÒAnythingÕs possible,Ó Ed said. ÒFirst thing we should do is go looking for that thief. If the person strikes once a week, and itÕs been nearly a week . . .Ó

ÒThink we should split up and patrol the town tonight?Ó Russell said, winding the hair around his finger.

ÒProbably the best thing we can do,Ó Ed said. ÒAnd we need to get a feel for the place, anyway.Ó He stared up at the ceiling, as if the patterns of tile would reveal the answers they were looking for.

ÒThis is old hat to you by now, isnÕt it?Ó

The remark took Ed aback so much that he turned his head abruptly toward Russell, resulting in the hair that the younger boy had been twirling getting yanked. Ed let out a yelp of pain. ÒQuit pulling my hair!Ó

ÒIÕm not *pulling* your hair!Ó Russell jerked his hand away, making Ed yelp again.

ÒWhat are you trying to do, yank it out of my head?Ó he nearly shouted.

ÒExcuse me for trying to be a little affectionate,Ó Russell said, folding his arms over his chest.

ÒAffectionate?Ó Ed said. ÒIÕd hate to see you try to hurt someone!Ó He stroked the hair that Russell had been tugging on, as if to soothe it.

ÒLook, I just like *touching* you, okay?Ó Russell said, sitting back against the headboard, his arms folded over his chest in a huff.

ÒWell, next time you *touch* me, try being a bit less brutal.Ó Ed pulled himself up into a sitting position next to Russell. ÒAnd the answer is *yes*, by the way.Ó

Russell turned toward him, puzzled. ÒYes?Ó

ÒThe question you asked me before you yanked my hair out of my head!Ó Ed said. ÒYes, this traveling everywhere *is* getting old hat. But . . . itÕs all Al and I have ever done. ItÕs normal life to us. Funny . . . when Al and I were kids, we used to think about being traveling alchemists, but . . . we didnÕt think it would be quite like *this*.Ó

ÒDo . . . you still think about that?Ó Russell said, keeping his voice as flat as possible.

ÒHavenÕt thought about much of anything beyond this case lately,Ó Ed said. Almost unconsciously, his fingers brushed up and down RussellÕs leg. ÒIÕll tell you one thing . . . when weÕre done, if that bastard tries to get me to come back as a consultant, IÕll tell him to *consult* my ass.Ó

Russell sighed inwardly. He was trying not to think too hard about where Ed would go, what he would do, once he was finished with his obligation to Roy. The Òtraveling alchemistÓ thing bothered him.

He knew Ed probably wouldnÕt go on the road permanently, but there was no guarantee he wouldnÕt go off to another city, or back to Risemboul.

ÒMaybe you and I could work on a project together,Ó he said, tentatively. ÒWeÕd talked about the super-healing compound . . . the one thatÕs a byproduct of the megaweapon formula . . .Ó

ÒThe way you researched the megaweapon?Ó Ed said, snuggling a little closer to Russell. ÒIt would take us years. YouÕd have your nose buried in about 50 books at the same time.Ó

ÒBetter than nearly blowing up the lab over and over!Ó Russell said, gently stroking EdÕs hair.

ÒI didnÕt blow it up,Ó Ed murmured, lazily. ÒYou just saw something *smoking* a little. ThatÕs far from . . .Ó He suddenly noticed what Russell was doing. ÒHey . . . are you being *affectionate* again?Ó

ÒMaybe,Ó Russell said in a teasing tone of voice.

ÒIÕll show you how to be affectionate!Ó Ed started to pounce on Russell . . . and the younger boy grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him against the bedpost, kissing him hard, his tongue teasing EdÕs lips just a bit, just enough so that EdÕs mouth opened with a small groan, his own tongue probing into RussellÕs mouth.

When Russell eased away, they were both flushed, panting, gazing hotly into each otherÕs eyes.

ÒYouÕre lucky I was too distracted to clap,Ó Ed said between breaths.

Russell brushed EdÕs hair away from his face, careful to be gentle this time. ÒSeemed to me like you loved it,Ó he said.

ÒI did,Ó Ed said. ÒBut youÕre still lucky I was too distracted to clap.Ó

He brought his mouth to RussellÕs again, and they kissed hard, RussellÕs fingers starting to slip under his shirt, up his stomach, seeking a nipple.

Ed let out a gasp as Russell made contact, stroking the supersensitive flesh, fingers teasing the tiny bud into a hardened peak. His lover knew every one of his nerve endings now, every one of his sensitive spots, and just how to touch and caress and lick and suck each one to make him moan and tremble and sweat.

ÒAaaahhh, damn, Russ, thatÕs good,Ó he groaned.

RussellÕs response was to grab at EdÕs shirt and pull it upward, and Ed sat up, pulling the garment over his head and throwing it on the floor. Russell lowered his head, his lips closing over the bud heÕd just been pleasuring, sucking hard as Ed panted, tangling his fingers in RussellÕs hair as his tongue lapped at him.

When Russell pulled back, Ed grabbed his suspenders and yanked at them. When they wouldnÕt seem to come down, he growled in frustration. ÒDid you fuse these to your shirt?Ó he said.

ÒNope.Ó Russell pushed the straps down, unbuttoning his shirt. ÒMight not be a bad idea, just to see your reaction.Ó

ÒMy *reaction* would be to transmute them into a pile of rubber bands,Ó Ed said, reaching for RussellÕs zipper. He yanked it down, pushing down pants and underwear, freeing RussellÕs erection.

Ed loved that gorgeous thing, long and hard and hot, seemingly shaped just for his mouth. He leaned over so he could slide his tongue up the side, then down, then up again, his lips closing over the head.

ÒOooohhh,Ó Russell moaned, leaning back, thrusting his hips up slightly, gasping as the hot wetness encased him, as Ed sucked him rapidly, pushing him in deeper with every thrust. He reached up with one hand and began to caress his own nipple, squeezing it gently, the tingles shooting out from it hitting the blazing heat coming up from his erection and making him gasp.

Only one thing could make it more perfect.

ÒFingers,Ó he gasped.

Ed pulled back suddenly. ÒWhat was that?Ó

ÒFingers,Ó Russell panted, his hair falling even more in his face than usual. ÒPut your fingers in me when you do that.Ó

Ed smiled, slyly. ÒI can do you one better than that,Ó he said. He got off the bed and headed to where heÕd dropped his suitcase. ÒGuess what I packed?Ó

RussellÕs eyes widened. ÒYou . . . brought . . .Ó

ÒYep,Ó Ed said, opening the bag and rummaging inside. He came up with a jar of RussellÕs homemade lubricant and a cylindrical piece of dark pink rubber, shaped like a male organ.

ÒOhhh, yes,Ó Russell moaned. He stood up, turned around and bent over, his beautifully curved bottom presented to Ed like a very welcome gift.

Ed slicked his fingers and gently began to press against RussellÕs entrance, leaning over to kiss the mounds, nibbling at them a bit, feeling the younger boy stiffen and shudder. He pushed in further, beginning a slow thrust, and was rewarded with a long, low sound of pleasure.

ÒThatÕs so good,Ó Russell panted.

ÒMmmm,Ó Ed said before kissing Russell's bottom again, sucking at the skin a little as he slid the second finger in, hearing RussellÕs cry. He thrust his fingers faster, deeper, twisting them just a bit, feeling Russell tremble more and more with every motion.

ÒNow,Ó Russell gasped. ÒIÕm ready . . . IÕm so ready . . .Ó

Ed slicked the toy and began to push it in, feeling RussellÕs body tighten at first . . . and then relax, the boy nearly whimpering with pleasure. The older boy felt a tightening in his groin . . . he wished it was his *own* cock inside of Russell, plunging into that incredible tight heat.

But heÕd take his own pleasure after he gave Russell what he said he was going to give him. And when the toy was in place, he knelt in front of his lover, taking him in his mouth again, as far as he possibly could, and sucked hard, feeling the delicious heat slide over his lips and tongue as he moved him in and out.

His hand reached up between his loverÕs legs, finding and grasping the end of the toy, and he began to thrust it in time to his sucking, pushing it in as his mouth slid down, enveloping his loverÕs erection, then pulling it out as he slid away, licking teasingly at the head before sliding down again.

He thrust the toy in long, slow strokes as he took his cock out entirely, lapping up and down along the shaft, kissing it lovingly. He paused for just a moment, hands and mouth both still, just long enough to make Russell give a small groan of frustration . . . then thrust both in again, making his lover cry out.

Ed heard RussellÕs ragged breathing, felt his hips pump back and forth, wanting more of his mouth, then the toy, then his mouth again. He pushed Russell in deep and sucked hard while plunging the toy in a few rapid thrusts -- one, two, three -- and felt Russell stiffen and gasp . . .

ÒEd!Ó Russell cried. ÒOh . . . Oh. . .Ó

There was a rush of hot seed into EdÕs mouth, and he swallowed quickly, trying to get all of it, although some of it ran down his face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand as he stood up, moving behind Russell, reaching for the lube again, slicking his own manhood.

Gently, he slid out the toy, dropping it to the floor to be dealt with later, and pushed his own hardness into his loverÕs body, slowly, slowly . . .

As soon as he felt RussellÕs whole body embrace him, he knew this wasnÕt going to take long. He grasped his hips and began to thrust, slowly at first, but picking up speed rapidly.

He felt so tight, even after the play with the toy, and so delicious, every thrust, every little bit of contact, sending shuddery pulses all through EdÕs body, making him move faster and harder, wanting to be fully buried in his lover, to lose himself completely in him . . .

There was a sudden flash of white light, and then a luscious shuddering wracked him from head to toe, electricity crackling through every single cell of him, and he sagged against Russell, panting.

He felt his lover pull away just long enough to turn around, and then, RussellÕs mouth was on his, kissing him tenderly, and Ed kissed back, wrapping his arms around him, then resting his head on his chest.

ÒThat . . . was *good*,Ó Russell said.

ÒHey, you werenÕt so bad, either,Ó Ed said.

ÒBut you . . . just . . . *wow.*Ó Russell felt utterly boneless, like he could melt into the floor.

ÒNot very talkative right now, are you?Ó Ed teased.

ÒLike *anyone* would be.Ó

Ed looked up at him with a sly smile. ÒLike the toy act? Hey, at least we got *something* out of Madame MarieÕs hellhole.Ó

ÒWhat makes you think that?Ó Russell said, feeling his head clearing a bit, the room not spinning quite as much.

ÒOh, just the fact that youÕre just standing stock still with a huge, goofy smile on your face.Ó Ed kissed him. ÒIÕm gonna go get cleaned up, we gotta get out of here.Ó

ÒGet out of here?Ó

ÒYeah, Russ, mission, remember?Ó Ed said, heading for the bathroom, toy in hand. ÒIf you forgot *that*, IÕll take it as a *huge* compliment.Ó

Russell smiled to himself. He wasn't going to have to figure out a way to make Ed even more incoherent than heÕd been next time. After all, what you gave out brought something equal in return . . .

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Fullmetal Alchemist is property of Hiromu Arakawa, Square Enix and Studio BONES. No profit is being made from this fanfic.