If there’s anything the colonel loves, it’s banter. Teasing. Flirtation is among life’s greater joys in Mustang’s book. That Vrenille also enjoys it lightens the mood, and Roy doesn’t even care that it makes his need that much more urgent. Pain and pleasure lace themselves together in his mind, soft licorice twists stitching themselves into one. When endorphins flood his brain, Mustang directs a smirk at the young man, merely saying, “I’m not blind, Vrenille.”

When the golden youth beckons Roy over, he remembers the irresistible offer of a reward, and he can’t wait to be blown, can’t wait to be taken over, to be thoroughly fucked. Mmm. Not that he’ll last very long.

But that’s not on him.

With mincing steps, he makes his way to Vrenille and smiles, standing over him, planting his hand against the wall behind the other man, his dick hovering before the other’s face.