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Hehe. Still nothing done on NaNo. I'm falling behind.
This is dedicated to the Fabric Alchemist and her donation of the song Cold by Crossfade. Equivalent trade for the Lust!Roy drawing has now been done.
Cold
War was cold.
It meant a cold bed as the one he cared for went off to fight. A cold heart when he was ordered to do the same. He was always cold when he was told to kill, even as the fire poured from his fingers and he felt his skin warm from the heat.
It meant his whole world went icy when the report came that the sector Ed and the rest of his group had been deployed had come under heavy enemy attack. He was sure that his blood had frozen when he read that there was no contact with the unit, and it was unsure if there were any survivors.
He had also been given strict orders to stay where he was. A major move forward was planned, and he was a key piece of that attack. If he was gone, it was probable that a large number of their troops would never make it home.
So he stayed, and shivered on the inside.
He doesn’t even really remember the last words that he and Ed had shared before Ed had left. There had been an argument over him being a manipulative bastard when it came out that he had made sure that he would be closer to the action than Ed. He hadn’t meant for Ed to find out.
He had only wanted to keep the blond away from the same nightmares that still woke him at night. Nightmares of children aiming weapons at him, only to die with their hair curling and skin crisping. Of parents trying to shield their children against the rain of death that killed both, indifferent to age and guilt.
He remembered Ed saying that he was an adult, and at the age of 20, he was right. But Roy never could fully get past the first image he had of Ed. Of a child, who was laying on sheets almost as pale as himself, heavy bandages over a missing limb. Even when they clung to each other in desire, he always had the image of the damaged boy.
Afterwards, they had fucked. It wasn’t making love, or screwing each other. They were still too angry for that. It was pure, unadulterated fucking. The desperate need to taste someone else’s skin and feel their pulse against your lips. To know that both were still alive, and that it was a desperate attempt to have a physical memory for the times they were both cold.
And then Ed had left, the next morning. Roy had woken with the other side of the bed already cold. He had been able to handle it just fine until that night, when the first reports of unexpected resistance had come in.
Then had come the reports of a fight, a hidden group of rebels who had been attempting to flank the army, and then nothing but static.
He had been ready to set the entire communications tent on fire, people and equipment included, when they had told him that there was nothing they could do. If the others made it through the battle okay, they would fix the radio and call back. If Fullmetal made it through okay, he could transmute it back to normal with no problem.
Roy took exception to the “if” part of their sentence when it had anything to do with Ed and his survival.
Then the main movement occurred. Roy had gone out and he had killed. Too many died on both sides, but he did what he could to keep his people alive. He shivered inside and burned out the outside, and he kept his mind carefully focused on the here and now.
It was a long and painful day, full of screams and blood and fire. His fingertips felt raw, though after a while he hadn’t needed to snap them, there was enough things burning. It was more emotional damage than anything.
As they started back, the skies opened, and rain that was little better than ice came pouring down. They had been racing this wet, and he was absently grateful that it had waited. It took too much energy he didn’t have to be happy it had waiting this long to fall, but he still wished it had waited a while longer.
He was cold and shivering when he finally stepped into his quarters, and the first thing he noticed was that the room was warm.
It stopped him like he had hit a brick wall.
He fought exhaustion, and finally looked around. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, and the lamps were on all over the room. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace, and for the first time, he felt the warmth that fire produced, instead of the chill of using flames to kill.
Then Ed stepped out of the direction of the bathroom, a cup in one hand, the other hand holding a towel. He wore only his pants, which looked as if they were wet. Shirt, boots, and socks were all missing, and Roy realized they sat next to the fire, drying off. Ed froze when he saw Roy.
For a moment, they stared at each other, water dripping off Roy’s hair. Then his knees gave way. Ed dropped the towel and almost threw the cup on the end table before rushing over to Roy. With an almost sob, Roy wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist, pulling the younger man close and resting his head on Ed’s bare stomach. The warmth of the skin was almost burning hot against his forehead. In the back of his mind, Roy noted that Ed didn’t pull away, even though Roy must have been freezing cold. Instead, he let Roy lean against him as the black haired man shook.
Neither said anything, only let the warmth soak into their bodies. Finally, Ed reached down and tugged Roy to his feet. Silently, he led the older man to the bathroom, where a tub of steaming water stood ready. Roy assumed that Ed had been preparing to take a bath when he had come back, but it didn’t matter. All that did matter was that they were both there to take off their clothes and to slide into the heat.
As the water slowly began to take away the chill, Roy pulled Ed against him. It seemed like he received more heat from that slim body than the water around him. No words were exchanged, just the simple fact that they were alive and able to do this was enough. Words would come later.
Now there was just warmth.
I really should work on NaNo.
And it's 6-11-04. The alchemists are coming. *grins*
This is dedicated to the Fabric Alchemist and her donation of the song Cold by Crossfade. Equivalent trade for the Lust!Roy drawing has now been done.
Cold
War was cold.
It meant a cold bed as the one he cared for went off to fight. A cold heart when he was ordered to do the same. He was always cold when he was told to kill, even as the fire poured from his fingers and he felt his skin warm from the heat.
It meant his whole world went icy when the report came that the sector Ed and the rest of his group had been deployed had come under heavy enemy attack. He was sure that his blood had frozen when he read that there was no contact with the unit, and it was unsure if there were any survivors.
He had also been given strict orders to stay where he was. A major move forward was planned, and he was a key piece of that attack. If he was gone, it was probable that a large number of their troops would never make it home.
So he stayed, and shivered on the inside.
He doesn’t even really remember the last words that he and Ed had shared before Ed had left. There had been an argument over him being a manipulative bastard when it came out that he had made sure that he would be closer to the action than Ed. He hadn’t meant for Ed to find out.
He had only wanted to keep the blond away from the same nightmares that still woke him at night. Nightmares of children aiming weapons at him, only to die with their hair curling and skin crisping. Of parents trying to shield their children against the rain of death that killed both, indifferent to age and guilt.
He remembered Ed saying that he was an adult, and at the age of 20, he was right. But Roy never could fully get past the first image he had of Ed. Of a child, who was laying on sheets almost as pale as himself, heavy bandages over a missing limb. Even when they clung to each other in desire, he always had the image of the damaged boy.
Afterwards, they had fucked. It wasn’t making love, or screwing each other. They were still too angry for that. It was pure, unadulterated fucking. The desperate need to taste someone else’s skin and feel their pulse against your lips. To know that both were still alive, and that it was a desperate attempt to have a physical memory for the times they were both cold.
And then Ed had left, the next morning. Roy had woken with the other side of the bed already cold. He had been able to handle it just fine until that night, when the first reports of unexpected resistance had come in.
Then had come the reports of a fight, a hidden group of rebels who had been attempting to flank the army, and then nothing but static.
He had been ready to set the entire communications tent on fire, people and equipment included, when they had told him that there was nothing they could do. If the others made it through the battle okay, they would fix the radio and call back. If Fullmetal made it through okay, he could transmute it back to normal with no problem.
Roy took exception to the “if” part of their sentence when it had anything to do with Ed and his survival.
Then the main movement occurred. Roy had gone out and he had killed. Too many died on both sides, but he did what he could to keep his people alive. He shivered inside and burned out the outside, and he kept his mind carefully focused on the here and now.
It was a long and painful day, full of screams and blood and fire. His fingertips felt raw, though after a while he hadn’t needed to snap them, there was enough things burning. It was more emotional damage than anything.
As they started back, the skies opened, and rain that was little better than ice came pouring down. They had been racing this wet, and he was absently grateful that it had waited. It took too much energy he didn’t have to be happy it had waiting this long to fall, but he still wished it had waited a while longer.
He was cold and shivering when he finally stepped into his quarters, and the first thing he noticed was that the room was warm.
It stopped him like he had hit a brick wall.
He fought exhaustion, and finally looked around. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, and the lamps were on all over the room. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace, and for the first time, he felt the warmth that fire produced, instead of the chill of using flames to kill.
Then Ed stepped out of the direction of the bathroom, a cup in one hand, the other hand holding a towel. He wore only his pants, which looked as if they were wet. Shirt, boots, and socks were all missing, and Roy realized they sat next to the fire, drying off. Ed froze when he saw Roy.
For a moment, they stared at each other, water dripping off Roy’s hair. Then his knees gave way. Ed dropped the towel and almost threw the cup on the end table before rushing over to Roy. With an almost sob, Roy wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist, pulling the younger man close and resting his head on Ed’s bare stomach. The warmth of the skin was almost burning hot against his forehead. In the back of his mind, Roy noted that Ed didn’t pull away, even though Roy must have been freezing cold. Instead, he let Roy lean against him as the black haired man shook.
Neither said anything, only let the warmth soak into their bodies. Finally, Ed reached down and tugged Roy to his feet. Silently, he led the older man to the bathroom, where a tub of steaming water stood ready. Roy assumed that Ed had been preparing to take a bath when he had come back, but it didn’t matter. All that did matter was that they were both there to take off their clothes and to slide into the heat.
As the water slowly began to take away the chill, Roy pulled Ed against him. It seemed like he received more heat from that slim body than the water around him. No words were exchanged, just the simple fact that they were alive and able to do this was enough. Words would come later.
Now there was just warmth.
I really should work on NaNo.
And it's 6-11-04. The alchemists are coming. *grins*
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From:
no subject
Wrong 'to.'
YAY ROY/ED. ;_; I was so worried you would kill Ed.
I liked the way you talked about the fighting; it was very real-feeling even without going into too much detail about who they were fighting and why. And I liked your description of how and why they argued, and then... homecoming! YAY.
Also, where again is this Lust!Roy pic?
From:
no subject
The Fabric Alchemist, creator of the Lust!Roy picture is right next to me, and once we find a place that isn't DA to put it up, it should be going up, as I keep poking her. She also has a Pride!Ed done. It is most pretty.
I'm amused how I went from Temptation to Cold in only a few hours. Talk about attitude shifts. *grins*
Glad you enjoyed it. No killing Ed this time, I promised her a happy ending, and since she drew L!R, she deserved it.
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I particularly like the dynamic forces (ie: hot v. cold) and you put them to good use. Also, image of wet and shivering!roy clinging to half nekkid!ed is very nice ^^
That being said, thanks for the loverly ficcie, NOW WRITE YOUR NANO! though i'm not really one to talk ^^;;;
From:
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And the image of Roy hugging Ed around his waist came from another place. Here (http://art.neutralred.org/), actually. Just hunt around a bit. Enjoy the prettiness. *Grins* I know I do.
And the cold/warm thing was my main theme. I'm glad someone mentioned it.
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though all of the fma piccies are pwettiful O.O
::hands hot chocolate and a bottle of vinegar with bow on to your muses:: The hotchocolate is for them, as I know it cures all pains... the vinegar, well >D vinegar is a cureall too bwhahahahahahhahahhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
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Hope you feel better soon.
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