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batsutousaiTitle: From the Worst of Times
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, background original character death, Roy is actually kind of emotionally stunted
Summary: "From the worst of times," someone had once told a young Roy Mustang, "always come the greatest of gifts." There were times in his life that was all he had to cling to, but it always seemed to hold true, one way or the other.
Ed joined him after a moment, his own cup of coffee held between two gloved hands. "Al and Armstrong just showed up, told me to take a break. Pretty sure that order's meant for you, too."
Roy shook his head. "Probably," he admitted before giving in and letting himself slide down to sit on the floor. When Ed joined him down there, their elbows brushing, he asked, "How are you holding up?"
"I've been worse," Ed said as he stared out over the soldiers taking their own breaks in the mess, a broken sort of smile twisting the side of his mouth that Roy could see. "I'm not bleeding anywhere, I have four limbs in perfect working order, no one's tried to kill me recently..."
"That's not what I was asking," Roy muttered, though he had to admit that, compared to most of Ed's stays in Central, this was a good one.
"I know what you were asking. How are you holding up?" One gold eye glinted at him knowingly.
Roy inclined his head. "Fair enough."
Ed hummed into his coffee cup.
Roy sighed and relaxed back against the wall, tilting his head back to stare at the transmutation marks along the ceiling. "I really hope this is the last time we have to fix this building in my lifetime."
Ed snorted. "At least you were stuck in hospital last time."
"True, but I still don't want to have to rebuild it again."
Ed looked over at him, mischief glinting in his eyes.
Roy pointed towards the door. "Out. Get out of my building."
Ed laughed. "That's not going to stop me," he pointed out.
"Anything you destroy I will make you rebuild yourself," Roy threatened.
"Al would help me," Ed insisted.
"After you destroyed the building he just helped fix? I'm pretty sure he'd stand back and watch."
"Ah, you're probably right," Ed decided, still grinning. "I'm not sure I have the energy to destroy anything right now, anyway."
"Will wonders never cease."
"Shut up, bastard."
They fell into silence for a bit, content to sip at their coffee. Ed stole one of the biscuits Roy had got for himself and he rolled his eyes, deciding he didn't care enough to complain.
Finally, staring down at the dregs of his coffee, Roy asked, "Where are you going to go next?"
Ed hummed. "Pretty sure there's a shoot to kill order out on my head in Creta–" Roy snorted; he'd believe that "–so that's out, though it's pretty okay. Good food."
"Of course," Roy agreed, because of course Ed would judge a place based on their food.
"Might go back to Drachma," Ed considered. "Their food's only so-so, but they don't care if you blow something up, and fistfights in the street are kind of a national pastime."
"Clearly, you ended up in the wrong country."
"Clearly," Ed agreed, laughter in his voice. "Didn't spend much time in Aerugo, but there's this really nice restaurant in the capital city, where they try to recreate dishes from other countries, but with an Aerugoan slant, so it all comes out tasting fucking weird, but in a good way. Also, the beaches are nice, though Winry spent an entire letter shouting at me about what salt water does to automail when I let it slip where I was, so I kind of can't tell her if I go back."
Roy caught himself chuckling. "Yes," he commented, "Miss Rockbell is quite protective of her work."
"I think 'protective' might be an understatement," Ed retorted before jumping to his feet. He snatched Roy's empty cup and ordered, "Stay put," before Roy could consider getting up, then hurried off to the carafes.
When Ed returned, Roy accepted his cup with a quiet "Thank you."
Ed shrugged and returned to his spot sitting next to Roy, close enough that their elbows knocked together any time one of them moved, close enough that Roy could feel Ed's warmth seeping through his uniform, and it felt too nice to want to move away, even if he probably should. "Al was saying they've been working on excavating Xerxes, and it might be nice to go see that. Maybe go irritate Ling in Xing. Al sometimes forwards on letters from the asshole and it's always Ling telling me about how great this is in Xing and how I really need to see that wonder and on and on. Pretty sure he just wants to be all smirky in person about him being Emperor."
Roy didn't know the Xingese emperor well enough to comment on that one way or the other, so he settled for, "It sounds like you have nothing but options."
Ed nodded. "Yeah. Whole world out there just begging to be explored. Not sure where to start. Maybe I'll just cool my heels in Amestris for a month." He glanced at Roy, an emotion he couldn't read in the gold eyes. "Drop by Resembool, check in on Granny, make a run through Ishval and irritate Scar–"
"Please don't."
Ed flashed him his best troublemaking grin. "Miles still down there?"
Roy sighed and nodded. "He's the military liaison."
"So I can irritate him, instead. Maybe drop by Teacher's place, let her beat me up."
"You'd deserve it, after annoying everyone in Ishval," Roy muttered into his cup.
"Drop by and see people in Rush Valley, let Winry remind me all the things I'm not allowed to do to my automail. Maybe head up to Briggs–"
"It's your funeral."
"Yes, but you're the one who's going to get the call about me."
"Olivier is far less terrifying when there's a phone line between us."
"I'm going to tell her you said that."
"I'm sure she'll take it as a compliment."
Ed considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Good point. Maybe I'll tell her–"
Roy was saved from Ed's latest attempt to give him a heart attack by Havoc bursting into the mess, looking vaguely panicked as he looked around the room and blindly shouted, "Chief!"
Roy and Ed both hurried to their feet, Roy barking, "Report, Lieutenant Colonel."
Havoc slumped, relief crossing his face briefly before he straightened again. "Sir. We just got a call from the dorms, reporting that Brigadier General Lee shoved past the workers and ran for the underground passage. They tried to follow him, but he had at least one explosive device with him and he used it to bring the tunnel down on them."
Ice froze down Roy's back, but he pushed it aside and turned to the soldiers who were relaxing in the mess and ordered, "Evacuate. Now."
He didn't need to tell them twice.
Roy turned back to Havoc. "Make sure everyone is out."
Havoc swallowed. "What about you, sir?"
"Don't worry about me, just get everyone out," Roy replied. When Havoc opened his mouth again, Roy added, "That is an order, Lieutenant Colonel," before turning and starting towards where the tunnel from the dorms would come out.
Behind him, he heard Ed say, "Give that to Al," then his footsteps as he caught up to Roy, falling in at his side.
"Get out, Ed," Roy said.
"Fuck you," was the blond's sharp-edged response. "I'm not about to let you face off against some desperate fuck alone. Not my style." He snorted, stretching his arms out in front of him, tired bones popping. "I'm probably the only person in this fucking building who won't let you order them out."
Roy grimaced because that was quite true; even Al would follow his orders if Roy was persuasive enough, but Ed just got more determined to ignore him the harder he tried. He checked his gloves and ordered, "Don't die."
"Not a chance. I'm supposed to go out quietly on a train bench, remember? Can't let Winry down like that." Roy caught a flash of something metal and sharp out of the corner of his eyes and was surprised to find familiar knives in Ed's hands. Ed caught him looking and put on a feral smile. "Gracia gave them to me, said Hughes would have wanted me to have them, keep myself safe."
"He would have," Roy agreed, and he could almost see the grin his best friend would wear to know that Ed had them.
They reached the door to the tunnel shortly after, it not being far from the mess. It was set back in the hallway, a small almost-lobby space between it and the main rush of the hallway. It was set up so that people could come up from the dorms without getting run down by someone not paying attention to opening doors as they rushed down the hall. Or, well, that was the official story. Really, it had been set back from the hallway so troops inside Command had walls to use as cover, while anyone walking out the door was completely unprotected.
Roy silently motioned for Ed to stand against one of the corners while he took the other. Ed narrowed his eyes, but did so without a comment, as aware of the need for silence as Roy was.
They didn't have to wait long, maybe two minutes, before the door slammed open. Roy held up a hand to keep Ed from acting, because Lee hadn't shown his face, had probably only done that with the door to see if there was a firing squad waiting for him. Which, well, there was, but Roy didn't have an itchy trigger finger.
The look Ed sent him made it clear that he was intending to let Roy act first, which probably wasn't a bad plan, given that Ed's fighting style tended to be up close and all over the place, and Roy's involved setting things on fire.
When Lee finally stepped out, a gun held shakily in front of him, Roy let him get just far enough from the door that he couldn't dive back through, then snapped to ring the man in fire.
Lee screamed and emptied his gun towards Roy, while he stood calmly out of the line of fire around the corner.
As soon as the gun clicked empty, Roy saw Ed go into action, slingshotting himself around his corner and jumping headlong into Lee, pushing them both out of the fire ring in such a way that Lee's trouser leg caught on fire, but Ed was left completely unscathed as he settled on Lee's stomach, one knife held to his throat, the other to his crotch; an effective way to keep any man still, Roy thought, impressed. "Not today, fuck-shit," Ed commented cheerfully, as the sound of Lee's abandoned gun hitting the wall echoed through the empty halls.
Roy activated his array to kill the ring of fire, as well as the flames eating at Lee's trousers. "Well, Andrew," he commented as he stepped slowly towards the two men on the floor, "it seems you're not having much luck, today. I heard about the train station, and Major Hollandus was quite happy to give me your name with Theodore Welrod's."
"I make my own luck, Mustang," Lee snarled, and Roy heard a sound that was almost like someone pulling the pin out of a grenade.
Ed's eyes went wide and he jumped towards Roy, catching both of his hands in his and clapping them together before Roy could react. An array that Roy had never seen before, couldn't even begin to guess what it would do, flashed through his mind, then Ed pushed his hands against the wall.
The light of an alchemic reaction arced along the wall, the air shifting around them and the walls letting out a groan of despair, and then Lee let out a scream of absolute agony and Roy looked over to find that the hand that had been behind Ed had...exploded. Like it had come in contact with a grenade that had only had a tiny area of effect.
"Edward," Roy whispered, looking down into gold eyes that glowed with victory, "did you just–"
"I found out on accident," Ed admitted, his mouth curling with a smile to match his eyes: absolutely stunning. "I don't have a Gate any more, can't do alchemy myself, but I can direct other people's alchemy, if they trust me."
"You realise you're amazing," Roy heard himself say, and he meant every word.
Ed's eyes went wide and his face took on a decided red tinge. He swallowed, then said, "Lee."
Roy realised Ed was still holding his hands as he pulled away, and he almost didn't want to, wanted to see Ed's face light up again as he performed alchemy through Roy, but Lee was still there, thrashing and wailing and clutching the stump of his wrist to his chest.
"Pathetic," Roy spat, reaching down and dragging Lee to his feet by his collar. He snapped his fingers to cauterise the wound and winced when Lee howled.
Ed made quick work of going through Lee's pockets while Roy kept him on his feet, and pulled out two more grenades and one replacement cartridge for the gun that Ed must have pocketed when he'd picked up his fallen knives, since it was no longer on the floor. "He's clean," he said over the sound of Lee's blubbering.
Roy nodded and shoved Lee to get him moving down the hallway, towards the front doors. "Shut up and start walking, Lee," he snarled when the man just kept wailing and almost fell flat on his face.
Between the two of them, Roy and Ed managed to threaten Lee out of the building, only needing to pick him back up off the floor once.
Most of the people who had been in Command had moved off to the tents, but Roy's team (sans Fuery), Alex, Al, Enfield, Tarpley, and Carcano stood just beyond the porch, and they all hurried to the bottom of the staircase once Ed and Roy turned to one of them.
"Sir," Riza said when she met them, clearly unimpressed, "if you ever go off to face an enemy on your own again, I will shoot you myself."
Roy snorted and pushed the still-blubbering man towards her. "Noted, Colonel. If you could please see the former Brigadier General to the civilian police I'm certain are awaiting him by the main gate?"
Riza sighed and motioned for Carcano to join her as she corrected, "Hospital, sir. Civilians don't lock up wounded culprits until after they've been seen to by a doctor, no matter their crime."
"Which is also by the main gate," Roy couldn't resist pointing out, and the glare Riza sent him before she and Carcano led Lee away made him wish he'd kept his mouth shut.
"What the hell'd you do to him, Chief?" Havoc asked around an unlit cigarette, expression somewhere between impressed and disturbed.
"His grenade exploded in his hand," Ed offered with a careless shrug. "All Führer Bastard did was keep him from bleeding all over the new halls."
"Brother," Al complained.
"What? That's what happened."
Al sighed and offered Roy a helpless look. "I'm sorry about him, sir."
Roy snorted and shook his head. "I'm used to it, but I do appreciate that one of you has a sense of decorum."
"Fuck decorum," Ed announced, and Roy's team and the two privates all laughed, a world of relief in the sound.
Roy sighed and looked up towards the blue sky stretching above them. "I'm thinking everyone deserves to break for lunch. Is there anyone in this city we can bribe to bring food for everyone up here and down at the dorms?"
Alex touched his shoulder and solemnly said, "Leave that to me, Führer," before turning and heading towards the tents.
Alex did indeed handle it, as evidenced by, shortly after Roy and his group made it back to the tents, Armstrong family servants appearing with enough food for most of the crowd to have seconds. When Roy asked, he was assured that food was being brought to the team down at the dorms, too, and he wasted no time in thanking a beaming Alex.
After lunch, Roy culled their numbers again, sending probably about half of the people there to get some sleep, including Carcano, Enfield, Tarpley, and all of his team, save Ed, who had pinned him with a flat stare and a dry, "I'll leave when you do," when he tried sending him away.
Roy and Ed were about halfway to to the front doors of Central Command when they were stopped by a light hand on Roy's shoulder, which he found was attached to Lieutenant General Spencer. "Sir," Spencer said, "go home. We can manage without you for the rest of today."
"Yes," Ed immediately piped up, clearly recognising an ally. "You need sleep before you embarrass yourself by falling asleep standing up somewhere."
Roy scowled at him. "I'm not going to–"
"Roy," Ed said, and okay, so he'd probably had a point about using Roy's first name being a good way to make him listen, because Roy felt all his fight drain away.
He sighed and patted Spencer's arm. "It's all yours, Mark," he said.
"Thank you, sir."
Roy shook his head. "We've two civilians on site: Mr Alphonse Elric and Miss Winry Rockbell. Alphonse is an alchemist and assisting with the repairs, Miss Rockbell is collecting pieces of the explosive devices and keeping them safely apart from the repairs." And he probably was too tired to keep working, because he couldn't keep himself from adding, "Unlike some civilians, they're willing to listen if you have any orders for them."
"Oh, fuck you too, Führer Bastard," Ed shot back, and Spencer gave him a disbelieving look. "Don't give me that look, f–"
Roy covered Ed's mouth, because he didn't want to deal with the brewing incident. "Send someone to get me if anything happens," he ordered before shoving Ed ahead of him and starting for the main gate.
Ed fell back to walk at his side after a few steps, and an easy silence fell between as they crossed the parade grounds and stepped onto the waiting lift, Roy returning the salute from the operator before they started down.
"I'm not sure where my suitcase ended up," Ed admitted under the cover of the faint sounds of machinery running as the lift carried them down to the street.
Roy frowned. "I assume you left it in whatever car Kain had when you two came from the station."
"Yeah, but since we sort of abandoned that car in the street when we couldn't get through the traffic..." Ed shrugged. "It's not a huge deal, really. It's mostly clothing, a few notebooks about my travels, that sort of thing. It was a military car, so I'm sure I'll get it all back eventually."
"I'll have Kain look for it once he wakes up."
"Nah, it can wait a few days. Finish cleaning up this mess first."
Roy glanced over at him with a frown. "You won't have a change of clothing for a couple days," he warned.
Ed rolled his eyes. "You've seen my suitcase; how often do you think I change clothes."
Roy sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Thank you for that, Edward."
"Sure thing."
Someone – Roy assumed Spencer – had ordered a car wait for him outside the entrance, and the driver opened the door for him with a salute and a firm, "I'm to drive you home, sir!"
Roy returned the salute and motioned for Ed to precede him in. "Thank you, Corporal," he replied before slipping in himself. The man closed the door, then hurried around to climb into the driver's side.
"Sir," their driver offered carefully as he adjusted the rear-view mirror, "I know your address, but would you like to drop–" He stopped, clearly uncertain how to refer to Ed.
Roy shook his head. "Mr Elric is staying with me."
"Don't need charity, Mustang," Ed complained.
"It's not charity, it's a bed," Roy retorted. "Drive, Corporal."
"Bastard," Ed muttered as the car pulled away from the kerb.
The house Roy had bought when he'd moved back from Ishval was closer to Madam Christmas than it was to Central Command, because he didn't mind driving to work every day, but he enjoyed walking to his aunt's pub on occasion. Too, he'd wanted a safe place for his aunt and her women to go if they needed to get out of the pub, and while Chris would probably never admit as much, Roy knew she appreciated him thinking of them.
It was clear from Ed's expression that he recognised how close they were to the pub, but he didn't say anything as they pulled up outside Roy's townhouse.
"Thank you, Corporal," Roy offered as he stepped out of the car.
The driver inclined his head. "Call the carpool if you need a drive back in the morning, sir," he offered as Roy closed the door, and he was left scowling at the assumption that he wouldn't be returning to Central Command until the next day as the car zipped away.
Ed laughed and caught his elbow, using it to tug Roy towards the house. "Come on, bastard. Sleep first, then get angry at them worrying about you."
Roy sighed and gave in, leading the way up to his door and activating the array on the underside of the lock, which he'd put there for days when he either didn't know where his keys were, or he couldn't be arsed to dig them out.
"You actually are a lazy bastard," Ed realised, ducking down as he followed Roy into the house so he could get a look at the miniature array. "Hey, this is cool. Did you design this?"
"Ages ago," Roy agreed quietly as he set about pulling off his gloves and shoving them in his pockets. "I had a bad habit of forgetting my room key when I first moved back into the dorms, after Ishval, so I came up with a way to not need one." He shook his head as Ed closed the front door and threw the bolt. "I'm afraid I only have two guest rooms. You can wait until Kain gets up, or just boot him out, or you can sleep on the couch."
Ed stared at him, vaguely disbelieving. "Your aunt was right," he said, as if only just realising it.
Roy frowned and looked down to kick off his boots, helpfully avoiding Ed's stare. "She often is. What about this time, particularly?"
Ed moved forward and grabbed Roy's collar to yank him forward and crash their mouths together.
Roy couldn't even think for a moment, caught somewhere between shock and a bone-deep pleasure, but he did manage to gather himself enough to push Edward back and rasp out, "What–?"
"Either kiss me or I walk out that door and find a hotel," Ed said, his voice flat.
Roy shook his head, tried to gather his thoughts, and wondered if he wasn't, maybe, a little too tired to deal with whatever this was. "I'm not–"
Ed turned and started for the door.
Roy reached for him, missed, then lunged forward and slammed a hand against the door as Ed reached for the bolt. "Dammit, Edward," he bit out, and the blond stiffened, close enough that Roy could feel the heat of him, could feel the shorter strands of his hair tickle his nose as they were moved by his breath. "I am too tired to figure out what you're avoiding saying," he said after a brief silence, because honesty always seemed to work best on Ed.
Ed took a deep breath, his right shoulder shifting under Roy's extended arm. "I've had a crush on you since–" his left hand came up, performed a little mid-air flip, and dropped back down to his side "–before. Then. I didn't–" He coughed and glanced over his shoulder. His cheeks were stained faintly pink, though he was scowling. "I made a friend, in Drachma. I thought I loved her, she knew better, forced me to see it for myself, then broke my leg and sent me home. I hadn't–"
"You were going to go right through Central without a word," Roy finished for him, because he knew how Ed thought, how he dealt with things he didn't want to face.
Ed's expression tightened. "I thought–" he started before shaking his head and turning back to the door. "Fuck it. Let me out."
"No." Roy shifted his weight, pressed a little harder against the door. "What did Madam tell you? That I'm blind to honest affection unless it drags me down and kisses me full on?"
Ed let out a startled noise. "How did you–?"
"I've heard it before; I grew up in a brothel-cum-pub, Edward," he admitted, vaguely surprised at how easy it was to give voice to the truth he usually went to great lengths to keep hidden, and Ed let out a choked noise. "Doublespeak and manipulations come naturally to me, but Maes and Riza had to teach me loyalty. Everything else–" He sighed and leant his head forward, resting against Ed's head. "You are extremely attractive, and I've known that for a long time, but I'm used to looking, not touching, because you're off limits, my whole team is." He felt Ed's hand curl around his wrist and heard himself quietly admit, "I don't want you to walk out that door."
Ed turned, and Roy found himself staring down into gold eyes that were full of an emotion that he didn't have words for. "Do you want to kiss me?" he demanded.
"Yes," Roy decided without having to think about it too hard.
Ed's mouth turned up at one side and he brought a hand up to cup Roy's cheek. "I can work with that," he decided before leaning up towards him.
Roy leant down and covered Ed's mouth with his, brought up his free hand to tangle in the gold hair that was always so eye catching, found he didn't mind the feeling of grit caught between the strands, or the taste of it caught in the dried pool of sweat that had gathered in the dip above Ed's upper lip. Ed let out a broken sound and grabbed tight to Roy's uniform jacket as he sucked on his upper lip.
"Fucking shit," Ed breathed out against Roy's chin as he drew back a bit, took a moment to stare into hazy gold eyes. "Fuck you."
Roy felt himself smirk and murmured, "Maybe after we've both had some sleep."
Ed's pupil's seemed to explode, quickly pushing the ring of gold out of the way, and he let out a ragged breath. "Bastard. You are a complete and utter bastard."
Roy carefully untangled his hand from the comfortable grip he'd had on Ed's hair and moved it forward to cup his face, finding it hard not to keep touching now that he'd allowed himself to do so once. "Did you want to sleep in my bed?" he asked.
"Yes."
Roy brushed his thumb over Ed's lower lip, then forced himself to pull away. "Boots off," he ordered, because he really didn't want to have to deal with anyone stepping on whatever might fall off Ed's boots on the way upstairs.
Ed made short work of kicking his boots off, leaving them in an ungainly pile next to Roy, Falman, and Fuery's row of military perfection. When he caught Roy observing the difference, he snarled, "Shut up," and shoved Roy towards the stairs.
Roy led the way up to his room without complaint, and motioned Ed in ahead of him, closing the door behind himself while Ed took a moment to look around the sparse room. It didn't take the blond long to zoom in on the only real personal touch: three photographs lined up on top of the dresser, clustered around the spot where he usually left his gloves and watch. The picture in the centre was of Roy's parents, his mother holding baby-Roy, which his aunt had kept safely locked away until he'd moved out. On the right was a picture of Chris with one arm wrapped around Roy's shoulders after his graduation from the academy, looking so unspeakably proud of him, while Roy tried to look like a proper soldier, but failed miserably because he was being teased by some of his aunt's women who were standing outside the frame. The last picture was of Maes, Gracia, and Roy clustered around the newly-born Elicia, whom Gracia was holding; the picture had been taken by the doctor who'd discharged Gracia and Elicia, and it was one of the few pictures that Roy hadn't complained about being taken of him before Maes had died.
"There are more photos downstairs," Roy offered as he started unbuttoning his jacket. "Mostly of Elicia and Gracia, but there are some of my team, and one of you and Al, which Maes took and hid in my flat when he visited at one point; I didn't find it until I was packing up to move back to Central, after the funeral."
"He did that," Ed said quietly, gently touching the frame of the picture with Roy and his best friend's family. "There were a couple times, when we'd get to our next destination after we'd visited them, when I'd find pictures in my suitcase, or tucked under whatever baked goods Gracia sent us out with. They were almost always pictures of Elicia, but he'd slip in pictures of Al and me sometimes, especially if he caught a shot of one of us with her."
"Did you keep any of them?" Roy asked, because, as much as Maes had driven him completely insane with his habit of hiding photos places and shoving them in his face, Roy had kept every single one he'd ever found.
"Yeah," Ed admitted. "We'd send most of the ones of us back to Granny and Winry, but I'd always slip the pictures of Elicia into my journals, pull them out to look through when we were in a rut. And, after he died..."
"I know," Roy offered quietly, because he did. Because he still pulled out one of his albums of early pictures, sometimes, when he needed more than the whisper of his best friend's voice to get him through the night. He sighed and stepped forward to place the much abused envelope from his aunt on the dresser, next to the photos.
Ed's eyes sharpened on the new curiosity. "Is this what Chris gave you? The thing you said you'd get to eventually?"
"Yes."
Ed stared at it for another moment, while Roy pulled his gloves and pocket watch out of his pockets to set in their usual place. "Well," he said as he stepped back, out of the way, "I guess you can look at it tonight, since no one wants you back in the office until tomorrow." And then he flashed Roy a too-bright smile.
Roy snorted and turned to hang up his jacket. "That, and whatever the madam has managed to compile since this morning."
"Why do you call her that?" Ed asked, and Roy looked away from his shirt to find the blond watching him, his own shirt and vest balled in one hand.
Roy blinked, distracted by the strong lines of Ed's abdomen and chest, the gleam of metal from the few automail pieces that had remained embedded in his skin, the trail of golden hair that vanished temptingly under the waistband of his trousers. And, yes, he really had been telling the truth when he'd said Edward was attractive. Stunning, even. "What?" he asked a bit dumbly.
" 'Madam'," Ed clarified, oblivious to Roy's distraction.
Roy shook his head and forced himself to turn back to his shirt. "Habit," he managed to explain in something approaching his normal voice. "When I told her I was going to become Führer, she promised to pass on any information she heard that might help me, because, well, military men are surprisingly loose-lipped when in bed with whores."
Ed made a choked sound, and it was a struggle not to turn around.
"Alcohol helps," Roy added, "which I think is part of the reason she opened a bar downstairs."
"It's still a brothel?" Ed whispered, sounding vaguely horrified.
Roy couldn't resist looking back that time, and he had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at Ed's expression. "Of course, that's why she's still a madam. And, as her best long-standing customer, you can see where some of those rumours about me started."
Ed rubbed a hand over his face, which was developing a distinct red tint. "I shouldn't ask this," he mumbled before asking, "have you ever used any of the other, er..."
"Have I ever slept with any of the women there?" Roy offered, and Ed nodded with a quiet groan. "No. At first because they helped raise me, and then, as women changed over, because I didn't want to complicate things. They're my spies, my eyes and ears in the parts of the city that I can't be seen to go, and I don't mix business and pleasure."
Ed peeked up at him from behind his bangs, understanding darkening his eyes. "You can look, but you can't touch," he said.
Roy nodded. "Yes."
Ed dropped the ball of his shirt and vest to the floor and stalked forward to catch the trailing edges of Roy's open shirt. "You can touch this time," he said, before clever fingers left Roy's shirt and ran firmly up Roy's chest, not shying away from the burn marking his side.
Roy groaned and grabbed for Ed's shoulders – gentling his touch on the right at the last minute because he didn't know if that metal was painful – ducking his head to catch Ed's mouth again, forcing his lips open so he could run his tongue along his teeth, taste the lingering hint of coffee and the sweet pastries he'd had at lunch.
Ed let out a whimper into his mouth, his hands grabbing for Roy's shoulders under the fabric of his shirt and digging in blunt nails, like he was afraid Roy might leave, like Roy was the one with wanderlust growing in the marrow of his bones.
"I said sleep first," Roy whispered against Ed's mouth before kissing him again, wishing he could figure out what it was about Ed that made him so much more tempting than the dozens of lovers that Roy had bedded over the years, because he honestly could not remember a single incident previous when he had so much trouble holding himself back.
Maybe it was simply because he could touch now, after so long knowing he couldn't, or maybe there was something else there, like Maes had hinted while he'd been rebuilding furniture, like Chris must have seen if she told Ed to just go for it.
"You say that," Ed gasped, shoving at Roy's shirt with one hand, while the other slid down his chest, "like you think I'm going to listen."
"Stupid," Roy agreed, giving up on denying Ed anything and going for the younger man's belt. "How careful do I need to be about your shoulder?" he asked, because he needed to know, because he hated hurting his partners when it was just a one-night fling, but with Ed?
And when the fuck had he decided this was going to be a more than one night thing?
Ed looked honestly surprised and glanced over at the embedded metal for a moment before offering Roy a wry smile. "I don't even notice it most of the time," he admitted. "Extreme changes in temperature, when the weather turns suddenly..." He shrugged, then let out a victorious sound as Roy's butt cape hit the floor. "They removed the pieces that they were afraid would do me actual harm."
"Good," Roy said before leaning down and licking along the easiest part to reach from this angle, a plate that curled over his shoulder.
Ed let out an absolutely wrecked noise and grabbed for Roy's shoulder with the hand that hadn't been starting on his belt. "Oh my god," he breathed. "Oh fuck. What did–" He broke off with a whimper when Roy did it again, and tugged ineffectively at his belt. "Bed. Bednowstopbed."
Roy chuckled against the join of metal and skin, but obediently pulled back so he could help Ed's fumbling hands in divesting them both of their trousers and pants; there would be plenty of time to drag every single variation of that lovely sound from Edward very, very shortly.
Which, well, Roy did.
Roy woke to a warm body curled up against his side and the distant sound of someone moving around in his kitchen. Only streetlights came in through the cracks around his drapes that he could never quite get closed, and he let out a sigh at the knowledge that he'd slept far more of the day away than he'd ever intended.
Then again, he hadn't intended to wear himself out quite so effectively before sleeping, either.
Roy glanced down at the blond head pillowed on his chest, letting his fingers slide through the loose locks, careful not to catch on tangles. Of all the possible futures he'd let himself dream of, it was a rare one that featured Edward in his bed (usually involving a great deal of the regret that was missing right now, once he'd realised what he'd been dreaming of), and he'd never have envisioned a future where he wanted Ed to stay there, where Ed made noises like he wanted to stay.
Roy turned his eyes towards the dark ceiling, wondering if he was capable of being someone Ed would want to come home to. Making space for him had never been a concern – Ed was the sort of natural disaster that created a space for himself, whether you wanted him to or not – but Roy didn't do commitment.
"Right, because you never committed to gaining the Führership," Maes' voice whispered in his ear, and Roy slammed his eyes closed. "You never committed to always being there for your team, for Ed and Al, for Gracia and Elicia."
"Shut up," Roy hissed.
"Roy?" Ed mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep, and Roy couldn't help but tense at getting caught talking to the spectre of his best friend. Ed shifted, pulled away, and when Roy opened his eyes, he found himself looking up into gold eyes that were dark with concern and still crusty at the corners from their extended sleep. "What's wrong?"
Roy wanted to lie, wanted to evade the same way he'd done the two times Riza had caught him whispering to ghosts, but he found he couldn't, not to those eyes that always demanded the truth, that Roy be straight with him for once. Not to the man who he'd let into his bed and didn't have any interest in watching leave it, and if Ed caught him in a lie, Roy could pretty much guarantee that he'd be gone. He licked his lips, damned if he did, damned if he didn't, then quietly admitted, "Sometimes, I hear Maes' voice. He tells me when I'm being an idiot."
Ed tilted his head, no judgement in his gaze. "When Al and I split up, before the Promised Day, I would hear him sometimes, telling me what I needed to hear, would have conversations with him." His expression twisted, colouring with irritation. "Greed thought it was the best thing ever to sneak up on me and start offering commentary; pretty sure it was Ling's idea to start with."
Roy stared at him for a long moment, not sure how to respond to that. He finally decided to just ignore the matter of Greed and Ling, instead asking the one thing that he'd never had the courage to ask anyone: "You don't think I'm crazy?"
Ed's eyes softened. "No. I think that we all need someone, sometimes, to confide in, and when we get stuck without that person..." He shrugged. "For me, that's Al, and I still, sometimes, I still hear him telling me off when I'm thinking about doing something dangerous and I know he wouldn't approve of, except it's always his voice from when he was in the armour that I hear, and please don't ever tell him that, because it's bad enough that Ling told him I talk to him when he's not there, if Al found out which version of him I talk to, he'll give me so much more hell."
Roy choked out a laugh and reached up to cup Ed's cheek with one hand, a part of him needing to check to make sure the blond was real, as though the steady warmth of him wasn't proof enough. "Your secret's safe," he promised.
Ed flashed him a quick smile, then sobered to continue, "But you, I think for you it was Hughes, right? And maybe it could have been Hawkeye, but she's not really... Well, okay, so maybe it's just because she was so much older than us and I didn't get it until after, but she's always been a bit unapproachable, because she's always so stern about everything, but Hughes... Hughes was the sort of guy who'd figure out all your secrets from the part of one of his pictures you looked at first–" Roy started laughing "–and then he'd– Hey, you bastard, stop fucking laughing at me!"
Roy shook his head and dragged Ed down for a brief kiss. "Thank you," he whispered against Ed's lips.
Ed closed his eyes and knocked his forehead lightly against Roy's. "I think, sometimes, that we're all a bit insane, but we've been through some insane shit, suffered so much through it. I think...I think we're entitled. That's okay."
Something clattered loudly downstairs, and Ed and Roy both looked towards the bedroom door.
"I think," Roy commented drily, "that we should go ensure my kitchen is still in one piece."
Ed snorted as he pulled back, leaving a long cold strip down Roy's side and chest, where he'd been pressed tight. "I think you may be right. Also, I don't know if you have enough food to feed all four of us."
Roy eyed Ed as he stretched, taking a moment to enjoy the view, then agreed, "Not with you here."
Ed stuck his tongue out and climbed out of the bed to go hunting for his clothing.
Roy sighed and got out after him. "Must remember to have Kain find your luggage," he reminded himself as he pulled open his dresser for pants and and socks.
"There's an array for cleaning clothing," Ed informed him. "Doesn't work all that great when there's sand, admittedly, and probably building dust, now I consider it, but–"
"Stop," Roy ordered, and Ed flashed him a terrifying smile. "I don't want to know." He gave Ed a quick appraising glance. "My trousers may be too long for you, and I think your shoulders are wider, but you're welcome to find something of mine to wear until we find your suitcase."
Ed considered that for a moment, looked down at the dusty clothing he was holding, then sighed and dropped it to the floor. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, coming to join Roy in front of his dresser.
They managed to find enough that Ed came through looking decent, though he did have to pick out his dusty shirt from the pile to wear over the sleeveless vest Roy had found in the back of a drawer. Which didn't seem to bother Ed in the least, but they'd already touched on the blond's disregard for the cleanliness of his appearance.
Roy's kitchen was a bit more crowded than expected, with Fuery and Falman debating over whatever was burning on the hob, food and empty containers left haphazardly along his worktops, while Havoc sat at the breakfast table and called out suggestions. Ed just sort of stared at the mess, expression disbelieving, while Roy let out a quiet sigh before straightening and barking, "Attention!" in his best drill sergeant voice.
Havoc, Falman, and Fuery were standing straight and turning towards the doorway before they realised what they were doing, and Ed just started laughing at Roy's side.
Roy raised an eyebrow at his men as Fuery and Havoc's expressions took on a decided sheepish tinge, while Falman grimaced outright, then ordered, "Captain, Major, clean that up so we can go out." The two immediately set about doing so, with far less debating, and Roy turned to Havoc, who had slumped back down into the chair he'd been sprawled in when they'd walked in. "Lieutenant Colonel, what are you doing in my kitchen?"
"Hawkeye sent me." Havoc patted the fistful of papers on the table that Roy had managed to overlook, and he barely resisted a groan. When Ed snorted, Havoc turned to him and declared, "Boss, your brother wanted to know which hotel you were staying in. Figured out you were here from your boots by the door, but, well. Since your brother's terrifying, I told him you were sleeping on the couch."
"Al's not terrifying," Ed replied, his eyes bright with amusement.
"Yes, he is," Havoc insisted. "He's got this 'I will slit your throat with a smile' air, which may actually trump Hawkeye's itchy trigger finger. There is no way I'm telling him you weren't on the couch or any of the guest rooms." Havoc very pointedly didn't look at Roy.
Ed snorted. "Al wouldn't hurt anyone. What's the number? I'll ring him back."
Havoc fished out a piece of paper from his pocket. "You're a braver man than I am, Boss," he insisted as he handed the paper over.
"Phone?" Ed asked.
Roy motioned over his shoulder. "Front hall, across from the boots."
Havoc waited until they heard Ed pick up the handset before saying, "Well, I lost that bet."
Roy turned a hard stare on the man. "Lieutenant Colonel, tell me you didn't have a bet running about which member of my team I was going to sleep with first."
Havoc blinked. "I promise I will never tell you that, sir," he returned, completely straight-faced.
Behind him, Fuery and Falman traded worried looks and studiously returned to their clean-up efforts.
Roy sighed, because this was his life and he was resigned. "Who won?"
"Uh..." Havoc glanced back towards his unhelpful co-workers, then groaned and admitted, "Hughes."
Somewhere, Maes was doing a victory dance, Roy just knew it. "I expect," he commented, keeping his tone dry, "that you now owe Gracia some winnings."
"Yes, sir," Havoc agreed.
"Al!" Roy heard from out in the hall, and wasn't the only one who turned an ear towards the one-sided conversation, judging by how silent the kitchen had fallen, even the clink of cookery and food containers muted. "Yeah, the couch. It was fine. Very warm." There was a pause, then Ed ordered, "Stop. Alphonse Elric. No, you– Fucking hell, Al, no. I am hanging up, go perv on Winry. And don't tell me about it!" Then he threw the receiver back onto the cradle.
"Did Al just...ask for details?" Havoc wondered a bit dazedly.
"Fuck off, Jean," Ed ordered as he stopped in the doorway, a hint of pink still noticeable across the tops of his cheeks, and Roy found himself having to resist the unexpected urge to lean down and... Actually, he had no idea what he wanted to do, but he knew it wasn't appropriate when half his team was watching on. "Where are we going to eat? Madam Christmas?"
"No, she won't do food at this hour, not even for me," Roy replied, shaking his head. "There's an Aerugo place on the way that I go to sometimes, if you want to see how we ruin their food."
Ed laughed, his eyes lighting up. "I'm going to drag you to that restaurant some time. Diplomatic mission or something," he threatened.
"What restaurant?" Havoc asked as Fuery and Falman finished putting away the last couple things and joined them in starting toward the line of boots and the front door.
Roy very pointedly steered Ed towards his boots so he could put them on as the blond explained, "There's this place in Aerugo's capital that tries to recreate 'specialty dishes' or some bullshit from other nations, except they do it in classic Aerugo fashion, which is to say, way too many added flavours and using an obscene amount of tropical fruit, so it comes out tasting really fucking weird. But still edible. You kind of have to experience it to believe it." He poked Roy in the arm as they stepped out onto the stoop. "I'm taking you. Figure something out."
Roy couldn't help a smile. "I'll let you know," he promised, a part of his mind already turning the problem over, trying to figure out a reason that he could visit Aerugo. Peace talks, maybe. "Jean, lock the door," he ordered as he started down his walk, because he still wasn't sure where his house key was. It had probably been in his office, really; he'd have to have a new copy cut.
"Two copies," Maes whispered in his ear as Ed came to walk at his side, the rest of his team falling in behind them.
Dinner was expectedly loud and excitable, with Havoc and Fuery pestering Ed for tales of his travels and Ed being all too gleeful about sharing only the most improbable of his adventures. Falman used the cover of their noise to pass along whatever new information he'd learnt since their brief intelligence trade over lunch, and Roy suspected Havoc had brought more than paperwork for him to sign when he'd dropped by.
After dinner, they moved on to Madam Christmas and settled around the familiar table to people watch over drinks. When Havoc decided he'd try his luck with Peggy, Fuery and Ed quickly sketched out a betting pool, which was really more of a 'how quickly do you think Havoc will strike out' bet than anything else, but they managed to drag both Falman and Roy into it. When Havoc saw it, after he'd been summarily turned down, he groaned good-naturedly and tried to get Fuery and Falman to join him in attempting to get a date.
Roy retired to the bar after ten minutes or so of Havoc's wheedling, ostensibly to get a new drink, but really because Chris was tending the bar and giving him a look. "Hello, Madam," he offered politely as he settled into his favourite corner stool, the one that other patrons avoided unless they didn't want to be noticed by anyone, which was kind of the opposite of why most people visited his aunt's place.
"Roy-Boy," Chris returned, taking his empty tumbler and turning to refill it with, Roy realised when she handed it back and he took a sip, barley tea. He sighed, resigned to his aunt's habit of cutting him off before he could even get tipsy, and sipped at the new drink. "Did you find time for what you left with this morning?"
Roy raised both his eyebrows at her and said into his glass, "The paperwork, no; Ed, yes."
Chris' eyes gleamed with victory.
"Me yes what?" Ed asked as he slipped onto the stool next to Roy. "Hey, Chris."
"Hello, Ed. Need a refill?" she asked, nodding to his nearly empty glass of beer.
"Nah." Ed shook his head. "I know when I've had enough." He glanced at Roy's fresh glass. "Unlike some people."
"What, exactly, are you insinuating about my level of inebriation, Edward?" Roy demanded while Chris went to, he assumed, fix Ed some tea of his own.
Ed considered him for a moment, then decided, "For the moment, nothing."
Chris returned with a tumbler similar to Roy's. "House special," she said when Ed looked like he was about to refuse. "Drink it before I get insulted."
Ed sighed and accepted the drink. He took a careful sip, then stopped, looking surprised, and turned towards Roy. "This is–"
Roy smirked at him and reached out to click his glass against Ed's. "What was that about my level of inebriation, again?"
Ed chuckled and wrapped both hands around his glass. "Thanks, Chris," he offered with a bright smile.
"Consider it a return for you taking my suggestion," Chris said, glancing at Roy, before leaving them to respond to the hail from someone else down the bar.
"Ah," Ed murmured into his glass.
Roy glanced back towards their table, checking on his team, before quietly admitting, "She always cuts me off. Still charges me like she doesn't, though."
Ed snorted. "Yeah, I can see the resemblance."
Roy let out his own snort and they both fell quiet, nursing their tea, Roy occasionally checking on the state of his team; Havoc looked to be trying to catch Helen, while Fuery played wingman and Falman recited facts of one brand or another.
"Did you mean it?" Ed asked into the easy silence between them.
Roy focussed on him. "Did I mean what?"
Ed stared down into his drink for a long moment, his expression troubled, before looking over at Roy. "I can't stay still. I can't just..."
Ah. "I know you're a wanderer, Ed," Roy murmured, holding the gold stare. "I'm fine just being the one you come home to." Ed's eyes softened, his mouth turning with a grateful smile. "Are you okay with knowing there will be days, maybe even weeks, when I can't leave the office because of one crisis or another?"
Ed's smile twisted, took on a resigned slant, even as his eyes gleamed with a light of humour. "Are you going to stop pretending to be lazy, then? Hawkeye might actually have a heart attack."
"Or simply have me admitted to hospital," Roy agreed, and Ed snorted. "I'm not fond of paperwork, it's tedious, but I've been stepping up while you've been away; Grumman didn't give me a choice in the matter."
"I like Grumman."
"You would."
"Yes," Ed said, his tone changing, becoming more firm, less teasing, and his eyes, when Roy met them again, had taken on a grim cast that Roy was all too familiar with. "I know what it means to have to put the country before someone that you want to be more important. You make sure I have somewhere to come home to, somewhere I'm proud to come home to, and I will."
Roy smiled and brushed his fingers over Ed's cheek, pleased by the way his eyelids fluttered at the brief contact. "Fair enough. But I expect at least monthly reports from you."
Ed let out a choked laugh. "You hated my reports! You always said my handwriting was worse than a five-year-old's."
"It was," Roy insisted, and Ed lightly hit his shoulder in response. "I can only hope it's improved, but I'll suffer if I have to."
Ed snorted and wrapped his hands around his glass again. "Yeah, okay. I suppose I can make an effort to write home once a month."
Roy held out his glass. "It's a promise."
Ed cast him a suspicious glance. "You're not getting your money back yet."
Roy sighed. "Edward."
Gold eyes gleamed with amusement as Ed clinked his glass against Roy's. "Monthly letters and someone to come home to," he replied.
"From the worst of times," Maes whispered in his ear, and Roy smiled.
.
