batsutousai | FIC: Selling Lies ~ Fullmetal Alchemist ~ EdRoy ~ Teen

Title: Selling Lies
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Established relationship, politics
Summary: The first election of the Amestrisan Democracy doesn't go quite as planned.

A/N: From a list of prompts on tumblr, harleyinblack requested “You can make a true believer out of anyone that you want.” Ed/Roy.
This isn't quite what you wanted, but I was struggling with your ideas. I had a lot better luck tying the line to the 520 cenz promise.

You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, tumblr, or LiveJournal.

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"Wow," said a voice Roy honestly hadn't expected to hear for at least another week. "You really can make a true believer out of anyone that you want."

Roy grimaced, because now he wasn't in front of the crowds that had come to celebrate the first election of Amestris – now that he was in front of only those he trusted – he could actually let himself admit that all of the promises he'd just given were complete and utter bollocks. He wished he had the courage to actually look up at the surprise guest, but he didn't want to see the disappointment he knew would be waiting for him.

"Edward," Riza said, likely an attempt to head off another of the former Fullmetal's infamous rants about governmental accountability, or whatever it was this week.

Ed let out a loud, pointed huff, closer than Roy had expected. It was all the warning he got before he was yanked into one of Ed's more crushing hugs, the sort that Roy occasionally joked he must have got training from Alex for. "Hey, President Bastard, I'm home."

Roy relaxed in spite of himself, hugging Ed back and trying not to be too grateful about Riza shooing everyone out of the side chamber to give them a moment.

When the door had closed, he pulled back and took a moment to look Ed over. It had been almost two months since he'd seen him – hardly the longest they'd been apart since they'd started dating five years ago, but the time had seemed to drag more than usual, with everything else going on – and his travels looked to have treated him well, for the most part. His hair was that too-pale shade it turned when he'd been constantly in the sun, and his eyes looked brighter than usual against his dark tan. There was an older line of scabs across his cheek, like he'd been cut with something, but it looked like he'd been taking care of it, so Roy would resist the urge to harp on him about it.

Ed was looking him over in turn, and Roy could make a pretty good guess at what he was seeing: Too pale from being trapped indoors all the time, with bags under his eyes because he always slept poorly while Ed was gone, and recent events had forced him to keep worse hours than usual. If not for the acceptance speech he'd just come from, and Riza's efforts in making him presentable that morning, he'd look far worse, and Roy made a mental note to buy Riza an even nicer new gun than he'd originally intended in thanks.

"So," Ed said with that sharp-edged smile that Roy knew was hiding a grimace, "do you need to stick around and push any more of that bullshit?"

Roy should probably stay on call for the questions he knew would be coming; his speech had been written to sound pretty, and the people genuinely seemed to like him, if the approval ratings earlier that month were to be believed, but someone would eventually realise that he'd done a lot of talking around issues and made far too many hollow promises.

But it had been far too long since he'd been able – or even had the inclination – to just go home and relax.

"I'll take that as a no," Ed decided as he pulled away.

"I should stay," Roy admitted.

Ed snorted, then opened the door Riza had ushered the others through, and said something to whoever was standing just on the other side – even odds if it was Riza or another member of his guard. After a moment of voices too low for Roy to make out, Ed nodded, then closed the door and flashed Roy a wide, slightly worrisome smile. "We're going home. Lose the jacket so we can sneak out the back."

"Will you ever outgrow your delinquent phase?" Roy had to ask, even as he took off his jacket.

"Fuck, I hope not."

Roy coughed to hide a laugh, then handed over his jacket so Ed could shove it in his suitcase; he'd rather miss Ed's familiar disregard for rules, himself.

They did indeed sneak out the back, following the old escape tunnel to the shack near the dorms, and borrowing a car from the carpool attached to the building.

"I don't have any cash on me, though," Ed said in one of the absolute worst attempts at a serious tone Roy had heard from him, "so you'll have to bribe the attendant out of your own pocket."

Roy rolled his eyes and glanced over at where the attendant, a young private, was trying to hide her smile. "We are not bribing military staff."

"Cheapskate."

Roy snorted, far too used to Ed calling him names to be bothered.

(They did both, however, make note of the private's name, then laughed over it during the drive; Roy had no compunctions about giving soldiers a bonus for having to deal with Ed's hijinks.)

"So," Ed said once they were home and settled in together on the couch, "how long until the brass actually stops mucking about in the elections?"

Roy sighed; he'd sort of hoped he'd get a little bit longer before Ed started complaining about how slow politics always moved. "I don't know," he admitted. "I thought they had kept out. Heymans discovered otherwise this morning."

Ed hummed and was quiet for just long enough that Roy could hope he'd let it go, then he asked, "Do you know how they did it?"

"Generally." Because Heymans had a couple of leads he was intending to spend the day tracking down; Roy expected to have the specifics by the end of the week, at the latest.

"So you can guard against it next time."

"It's not that easy. They'll just–"

"Well, sort it out!" Ed snapped, shoving off the couch and stalking away two steps.

Roy felt cold. "Ed–"

"You're stupidly smart," Ed said, turning to face him with eyes that blazed, "and you've got a bunch of smart people working for you; you can figure this–"

"It's not that simple!" Roy shouted, because raising his voice was the only way he'd get a word in edgewise. It was a struggle to keep from standing himself, but he knew using his height to his advantage would just make things worse. "I can't plan for every single one of their plots to keep their power!"

"Sure you can," Ed said with such certainty, Roy wanted to cry.

"It's not that simple," he said again, quieter, slumping back against the couch. "This isn't alchemy, Edward. There is no array to keep people from hoarding whatever power they can get their hands on."

"If only there was a gate of truth for politics," Ed muttered.

Roy laughed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes; if only, indeed.

Only once Roy had stopped laughing, did Ed say, "I could stay, if it might help. Be your live-in fiancé."

Roy frowned. "Fiancé?" he asked, even as he opened his eyes.

Ed was crouched in front of him, wearing a helpless smile and holding out a small diamond ring. "It was supposed to be my way of paying you back for finally getting us to a democracy," he explained while Roy stared, at a loss for words. "Kinda planned on making a crack about borrowing the rest of your life, for my next fee."

"Really," Roy heard himself say, dry and unimpressed. "You're going to borrow the rest of my life."

Ed shrugged, pink starting to spread across his cheeks. "I mean, equivalent exchange, you can borrow mine in return, but–"

"Edward," Roy interrupted, leaning forward to wrap his hand around Ed's and the ring he was still holding, because he suspected Ed was about to start rambling very shortly, "I would be honoured to marry you."

The hints of a blush bloomed into a proper one, and Ed scowled in that way that meant he was desperately fighting a bright, delighted grin. "Bastard. No marriage until you sort out the meddling, though."

"You drive a hard bargain," Roy said, just because it was expected. Then he leant in and kissed his fiancé.

Somehow, deriving contingency plans for the brass' meddling didn't seem quite the exhausting task.