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Silver Metal Love
Author –
cornerofmadness
Disclaimer – so not mine, no money made, all rights belong to Ms. Arakawa
Rating – NC-17
Pairing – Roy/Riza
Fandom- Fullmetal alchemist
Warnings: gun fetish, cunnilingus
Prompt: Roy/Hawkeye: gun fetishism - “know the metal, know the flesh”
Timeline/Spoilers: - hmm no direct spoilers except for Madame Christmas’ true identity so I guess spoilers for the manga past episode 80 to be safe. Could be set anytime earlier in the series
Word count: 1146
Summary: He loves her and her guns
A/N: Hopefully I carried this off well. Gun kink isn’t my usual thing. As a gun owner, I feel like I should add that caveat of never do this in real life… not that I imagine anyone would. Thanks to
evil_little_dog for the beta.
* * *
It wasn’t often Roy got to spend a lot of time alone with Hawkeye, neither of them willing to risk being seen at their respective dwellings. However, they had a long weekend with time off for a national holiday and Chris Mustang had offered up a cottage she owned in Valley View, a town an hour’s train ride from Central. Both of them had arrived in town in as much as a disguise as they dared.
Disguise, however, didn’t mean Riza showed up without her guns. To the contrary, she was as well armed as ever. Roy didn’t mind that. He rather enjoyed watching the care she took with her weapons. She had her favorite pistol out now, carefully checked to make sure it was unloaded before she took a polishing rag to it. The air in the room smelled heavy with the scent of gun oil. As the rain fell steadily outside, Roy was content to watch her talented hands work.
Riza loved guns as much as he loved fire. They both knew how dangerous their weapons of choice were and how very powerful. Danger and power were a potent mix and occasionally, when he was feeling reckless, Roy liked to drink deep of them both. He watched as she made slow, tight circles along the barrel, banishing rust. Taking in a deep breath, Roy imagined her fingers tracing those movements on his cock. Said appendage perked up at the mere thought of it.
Shifting on the couch he was lounging on, Roy tried to take the pressure off himself as his pants began to get a little snug. As Riza’s hands swept the rag up and down the barrel, Roy knew regaining control was a lost cause. Instead, he palmed his forming erection, rubbing the soft silk of his underwear over his hot flesh.
Riza glanced over at him then let out a soft chuckle. “Is that for me or the gun?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
Riza kicked the chair next to her out from the table. “Come here.” The demand was accompanied by the subtle movement of her cheek over the chamber of her gun, the muzzle carefully pointing away from them both.
Intrigued, Roy awkwardly shuffled over and sat in the chair. Riza got out of hers and sat on his lap. He stifled a groan as she settled over his erection, tucking him against her.
“I’ve seen how you care for your gun.” Riza set the pistol in his hand and the rag in the other. “You need improvement.”
“But you like doing this,” he protested. “Who am I to rob you of such joy?”
“Taking care of a gun is like taking care of your body. Both need diligence or else they’ll fail you when you least expect it and who wants that?” Riza rocked on him for emphasis and Roy couldn’t swallow back his groan.
“No one,” he mumbled, rubbing against her.
Smiling, Riza took his hand, moving it with the cloth he held, over the barrel of her gun. Her movements were measured and deliberate. Roy found himself almost swaying as he polished the weapon. “That’s right, that’s how it’s done,” she murmured. “Know the metal, know the flesh.”
Roy licked her neck. “I want to know both.” Nestling the gun between her shoulders, he lifted Riza off his lap and laid her down on the thick rug before the unlit fireplace. He wanted the silly cliché of having it lit but it was a summer shower outside so more heat was the last thing anyone needed. Roy set the gun down next to her.
“You always were greedy.” Riza grinned, sitting up so she could catch hold of him and roll him down to the ground. She straddled him again, picking up her empty pistol. She trailed it up his chest, lifting his shirt the muzzle of the gun. “But I like that sometimes.”
Roy ran his hands up her arms. “I know you do.”
She pulled back on the gun, tugging his shirt. “Take it off.”
Roy stripped eagerly, unabashed before her. Riza already knew all the little scars and imperfections that pocked him. She circled the cool, slick tip of the pistol over one of his nipples. Roy shivered at the touch, rolling his hips against her. Riza trailed the pistol down his belly, ringing around the dip of his belly button. She eyed him, the pink tip of her tongue wetting her lips. Her eyes flicked to his trousers as she swung off him. Roy unhurriedly slid his pants and boxers off, his cock bobbing free.
He hissed as the cool gunmetal traveled down the length of him then over his balls before Riza set it aside. She whipped her shirt off over her head then undid her bra. Riza leaned over him, her warm breasts brushing tantalizingly over his cock, making it jump. He undid her trousers, tugging them down as far as he could. Riza shifted, getting her clothes off.
Roy let the shaggy rug tickle his sensitive flesh as he stretched out, helping himself to several kisses running up her thigh. As his lips found her warm wet core, probing and teasing, Riza caressed his back. He kept it up until she moaned softly, bucking against his mouth. She tugged gently on his hair. Wet-lipped, he grinned up at her. “Do I know the flesh well enough?”
“You might pass,” she replied, her voice whiskey-tinged.
Roy gathered her to him, feeling the roughness of her scarred back under his hands. Riza formed an ‘okay’ sign with her fingers, wrapping it over his cock. As she slowly twisted her fingers over his shaft, Roy fumbled for his trousers while he could still think. Finding them on the floor, he took out one of the paper-wrapped prophylactics he had pocketed so he wouldn’t need to hunt down the tin in their bedroom.
Riza slid it over him then slithered off him. Her strong arms looped around him, drawing him down to her. Capturing her hands, Roy tenderly pushed inside her. Their bodies rocked together, unhurried, luxuriating in every touch and kiss. When he finally picked up his pace, thrusting harder into her, Riza met him with honey-hipped rolls up onto him. Muffling his cry against her shoulder, Roy spilled. Riza clung to him tightly after, neither of them willing to lose contact with the other.
Finally, Roy rolled onto the rug, tugging off and knotting the end of the condom. He squirmed, something hard poking into his back. He pulled the gun out from under him. Grinning, he said, “I think you’ll need to clean it again.”
Riza took it from him. “In private. It gets you too wound up.”
Roy laughed. “As if you don’t love it.”
Riza rolled up onto one elbow, leaning down to kiss him. “I love everything about you.”
Author –
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Disclaimer – so not mine, no money made, all rights belong to Ms. Arakawa
Rating – NC-17
Pairing – Roy/Riza
Fandom- Fullmetal alchemist
Warnings: gun fetish, cunnilingus
Prompt: Roy/Hawkeye: gun fetishism - “know the metal, know the flesh”
Timeline/Spoilers: - hmm no direct spoilers except for Madame Christmas’ true identity so I guess spoilers for the manga past episode 80 to be safe. Could be set anytime earlier in the series
Word count: 1146
Summary: He loves her and her guns
A/N: Hopefully I carried this off well. Gun kink isn’t my usual thing. As a gun owner, I feel like I should add that caveat of never do this in real life… not that I imagine anyone would. Thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
* * *
It wasn’t often Roy got to spend a lot of time alone with Hawkeye, neither of them willing to risk being seen at their respective dwellings. However, they had a long weekend with time off for a national holiday and Chris Mustang had offered up a cottage she owned in Valley View, a town an hour’s train ride from Central. Both of them had arrived in town in as much as a disguise as they dared.
Disguise, however, didn’t mean Riza showed up without her guns. To the contrary, she was as well armed as ever. Roy didn’t mind that. He rather enjoyed watching the care she took with her weapons. She had her favorite pistol out now, carefully checked to make sure it was unloaded before she took a polishing rag to it. The air in the room smelled heavy with the scent of gun oil. As the rain fell steadily outside, Roy was content to watch her talented hands work.
Riza loved guns as much as he loved fire. They both knew how dangerous their weapons of choice were and how very powerful. Danger and power were a potent mix and occasionally, when he was feeling reckless, Roy liked to drink deep of them both. He watched as she made slow, tight circles along the barrel, banishing rust. Taking in a deep breath, Roy imagined her fingers tracing those movements on his cock. Said appendage perked up at the mere thought of it.
Shifting on the couch he was lounging on, Roy tried to take the pressure off himself as his pants began to get a little snug. As Riza’s hands swept the rag up and down the barrel, Roy knew regaining control was a lost cause. Instead, he palmed his forming erection, rubbing the soft silk of his underwear over his hot flesh.
Riza glanced over at him then let out a soft chuckle. “Is that for me or the gun?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
Riza kicked the chair next to her out from the table. “Come here.” The demand was accompanied by the subtle movement of her cheek over the chamber of her gun, the muzzle carefully pointing away from them both.
Intrigued, Roy awkwardly shuffled over and sat in the chair. Riza got out of hers and sat on his lap. He stifled a groan as she settled over his erection, tucking him against her.
“I’ve seen how you care for your gun.” Riza set the pistol in his hand and the rag in the other. “You need improvement.”
“But you like doing this,” he protested. “Who am I to rob you of such joy?”
“Taking care of a gun is like taking care of your body. Both need diligence or else they’ll fail you when you least expect it and who wants that?” Riza rocked on him for emphasis and Roy couldn’t swallow back his groan.
“No one,” he mumbled, rubbing against her.
Smiling, Riza took his hand, moving it with the cloth he held, over the barrel of her gun. Her movements were measured and deliberate. Roy found himself almost swaying as he polished the weapon. “That’s right, that’s how it’s done,” she murmured. “Know the metal, know the flesh.”
Roy licked her neck. “I want to know both.” Nestling the gun between her shoulders, he lifted Riza off his lap and laid her down on the thick rug before the unlit fireplace. He wanted the silly cliché of having it lit but it was a summer shower outside so more heat was the last thing anyone needed. Roy set the gun down next to her.
“You always were greedy.” Riza grinned, sitting up so she could catch hold of him and roll him down to the ground. She straddled him again, picking up her empty pistol. She trailed it up his chest, lifting his shirt the muzzle of the gun. “But I like that sometimes.”
Roy ran his hands up her arms. “I know you do.”
She pulled back on the gun, tugging his shirt. “Take it off.”
Roy stripped eagerly, unabashed before her. Riza already knew all the little scars and imperfections that pocked him. She circled the cool, slick tip of the pistol over one of his nipples. Roy shivered at the touch, rolling his hips against her. Riza trailed the pistol down his belly, ringing around the dip of his belly button. She eyed him, the pink tip of her tongue wetting her lips. Her eyes flicked to his trousers as she swung off him. Roy unhurriedly slid his pants and boxers off, his cock bobbing free.
He hissed as the cool gunmetal traveled down the length of him then over his balls before Riza set it aside. She whipped her shirt off over her head then undid her bra. Riza leaned over him, her warm breasts brushing tantalizingly over his cock, making it jump. He undid her trousers, tugging them down as far as he could. Riza shifted, getting her clothes off.
Roy let the shaggy rug tickle his sensitive flesh as he stretched out, helping himself to several kisses running up her thigh. As his lips found her warm wet core, probing and teasing, Riza caressed his back. He kept it up until she moaned softly, bucking against his mouth. She tugged gently on his hair. Wet-lipped, he grinned up at her. “Do I know the flesh well enough?”
“You might pass,” she replied, her voice whiskey-tinged.
Roy gathered her to him, feeling the roughness of her scarred back under his hands. Riza formed an ‘okay’ sign with her fingers, wrapping it over his cock. As she slowly twisted her fingers over his shaft, Roy fumbled for his trousers while he could still think. Finding them on the floor, he took out one of the paper-wrapped prophylactics he had pocketed so he wouldn’t need to hunt down the tin in their bedroom.
Riza slid it over him then slithered off him. Her strong arms looped around him, drawing him down to her. Capturing her hands, Roy tenderly pushed inside her. Their bodies rocked together, unhurried, luxuriating in every touch and kiss. When he finally picked up his pace, thrusting harder into her, Riza met him with honey-hipped rolls up onto him. Muffling his cry against her shoulder, Roy spilled. Riza clung to him tightly after, neither of them willing to lose contact with the other.
Finally, Roy rolled onto the rug, tugging off and knotting the end of the condom. He squirmed, something hard poking into his back. He pulled the gun out from under him. Grinning, he said, “I think you’ll need to clean it again.”
Riza took it from him. “In private. It gets you too wound up.”
Roy laughed. “As if you don’t love it.”
Riza rolled up onto one elbow, leaning down to kiss him. “I love everything about you.”