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Roy makes plans to see Ed for the first time in about six months on a Thursday at noon. Ed’s finally back in Central—a quick stop on his way east across the country—and as has become their custom when he’s in town, they make time to meet for lunch at one of their favorite cafes a few blocks from Central Command. It’s the one that serves four inch thick turkey club sandwiches on sourdough with hot, crispy fries. Roy’s been looking forward to downing that with a large glass of iced tea and some good conversation all week.
He smiles as he spots Ed waiting by the hostess booth. The weather’s warm, so Ed’s got his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows and his coat tucked under an arm. He grins broadly when he sees Roy approaching and waves his fingers in a little hello. Roy jogs the last couple steps across the street and up the curb before slowing to a stroll to meet him.
“Edward!” he says brightly, returning Ed’s smile. He holds out a hand in greeting.
“Mustang, good to see you.” Ed grips Roy’s hand in his—the right one, which is firm and warm—and shakes. “Glad Hawkeye let you out for an afternoon.”
“In some strange turn of events, she has decided you are a good influence on me.”
Ed barks out a laugh. “That’s fucking rich! She’s just decided she’d rather keep us both occupied and out of trouble.”
“Too true.” Roy turns to the hostess and holds up two of his fingers. She smiles while grabbing a couple menus and leads them to a small table in the corner of the little patio they’ve got situated on the sidewalk. Early summer in Central means the weather is perfect, and the restaurant has yellow and white striped umbrellas set up over every wrought iron table. The patio is fenced in from the sidewalk. Roy loves sitting out here so that he can people-watch and pet any dogs who sneak their noses in between the railings to sniff at diners.
Ed takes the farther seat and tucks himself in after draping his coat over the back of the chair. Roy hands him a menu, even though they both know what they’re ordering already and so does the waiter that visits them only long enough to take the menus back and bring them two teas, lemon and sugar on the side.
“So, Edward, how is life out west?”
Ed leans back in his chair while he stirs sugar into his tea and Roy settles in to give him a good onceover.
Ed looks happy and relaxed, primarily, which Roy likes on him. The years since the Promised Day have been mostly kind—approaching nine now, and isn’t that crazy to think about? Edward and Alphonse have both had a while to settle into being, if not normal, mostly healthy and stress-free.
While Alphonse seemed to ease back into life with a level of eagerness and confidence even Roy is a little jealous of, it took longer for Ed to decide what he’d do with himself next. Two years in Resembool with Al and the Rockbell’s, a few years of travel and consulting work, and finally now a residency at one of the larger universities in Creta seemed to iron things out for him well enough. He’s looked pretty much pleased with the way things have turned out for at least the last three years or so and Roy is happy about it.
It means that not only has Ed grown into his adult stature, he’s also grown into himself. His bravado may have lessened, but there’s a quiet and steady confidence to him now that makes him hold himself differently. He’s taller, which he’d love to hear, but his shoulders are also broader and held at a straighter angle. His always clever eyes seem more cunning now, his smile at times more cutting. He continues to be whip smart and endlessly compassionate. He still gives as good as he gets when he and Roy settle back into their usual banter, and something about them being on more equal footing, well…
Roy’s noticed, is all. He’s noticed the way Ed’s posture shows off the long column of his neck, his hair still always pulled back to expose the tan skin of his collarbones, his throat, his freckled ears. His forearms are strong, the near-invisible blonde hair on them glittering golden in the sun. His features are more angular. When he smirks, his lips pull just so at the corners, making Roy forget that he should be watching Ed’s eyes to read his expressions, rather than getting caught up in his physicality.
Especially because Ed learned from the best, and now he’s good at schooling his face and making Roy work to grasp exactly what he’s feeling and thinking.
Right now Ed’s tongue swipes out to lick his lips before he presses the end of his straw between them to take a sip of his iced tea.
“It’s good,” he says, when he sets his glass back down. Roy is temporarily distracted by the way his fingers are playing in the condensation on the side of the glass. “Ready for the summer break. I like teaching, and I enjoy the research, as you know, but I miss this,” he says, waving the other hand around as if to mean Central, and not just sitting here with Roy. “And I miss Al.”
“Al’s on baby number three, right?”
“Right. Mei’s doing well. Probably by the time I make it there my new little niece or nephew will have already popped out.” Ed laughs, somewhat ruefully. “I’ve got a whole fucking suitcase full of gifts to shower on them to make up for that.”
As they dive into small talk, which turns out isn’t awkward for them now that the whole saving the world and overthrowing the government thing is over—and now that Ed’s no longer working for him; that had flipped a switch on their relationship pretty much immediately—a waiter brings over their sandwiches and Roy finds himself relaxing further. It’s almost as if no time has passed since the last time they saw each other. They’re able to pick up trains of conversation right where they had left them, delving into Ed’s research at the university, Grumman’s new policy initiatives (which are really Roy’s, Ed knows), and life in general. This is the kind of easy friendship Roy misses most about Maes being gone. In many ways, Ed knows Roy just as well as Maes ever did. Roy wonders if that will continue to grow.
Ed’s wheezing his way through a story about a snake that unspooled itself from inside Ed’s messenger bag to terrorize his classroom—“and not me; I am not afraid of snakes!”—when Roy hears someone say his name from behind him. He turns quickly at the voice, already hiding a grimace.
Ah—it’s Brigadier General Voight’s wife. She’s lovely, if a bit overbearing, and a notorious gossip. Roy starts to shift through his mental index as to which cards he wants to play here. The last time he saw her was about a week ago, on her husband’s arm at the theater, when Roy was insisting to her that no, he still didn’t need to be set up with her sister Shelley, despite numerous offers over the last few years. No no, he’s not planning on remaining a consummate bachelor forever. He is, in fact, seeing someone! And it is quite serious, he assures her.
Mrs. Voight’s sister Shelley is also quite lovely, but he’s pretty sure she’s both in love with her best friend Maple and also hates Roy’s guts.
Roy pushes his chair back as Mrs. Voight approaches on the sidewalk. She descends quickly to grasp Roy’s forearms and give him two strong kisses, one to each cheek, which he returns politely.
“Mrs. Voight! Wonderful to see you, as always.” Roy puts on his most charming smile. The policy shift on low income housing he’s been workshopping with the other Generals hinges somewhat on Brigadier General Voight’s buy-in. Best to play this one closer to sugar than vinegar. From Mrs. Voight’s mouth to her husband’s ears.
“And you, as well, Roy. So nice to see you out of the office. That Hawkeye woman really knows how to keep you in line!” Mrs. Voight says it like it’s a euphemism and Roy’s not sure she didn’t mean it that way.
“Well, you know how it is. I’m just the pretty face of the operation.” He throws a wink at her and she dissolves into a peal of giggles. Roy swears he hears Ed gag a bit behind him.
Mrs. Voight must hear him also, because seconds later she’s leaning around Roy to peer at the young man still seated at the table. That shuts Ed up real quick, Roy notices with grim satisfaction. Mrs. Voight might not be a particularly large woman, but her hair is impeccably kept in its blonde coiffe and her nails are sharp, though a demure pink. This is the visage of a societal shark, Roy wills Ed to understand in some desperate attempt at telepathy. Do not underestimate the strength of her claws or you will find yourself sitting down for Bridge at the country club surrounded by equally impish and lavishly wealthy married ladies with too much time on their hands and rather too much influence.
“And who, pray tell, is this?” Mrs. Voight crows, delighted. Ed smiles sheepishly and Roy knows Ed’s a goner. It was nice knowing him. What will he tell Alphonse? The younger Elric will be devastated.
“Mrs. Voight, may I introduce you to Ed—”
“Roy!” she interrupts. She slaps him not-so-lightly on the arm. “Is this the lovely creature you were telling us so much about the other night?”
All the blood drains from Roy’s face and for a moment he feels his mask slip entirely.
Nevermind. This is Roy’s funeral, not Ed’s.
In fact, maybe Ed’s going to be the one who kills him, because there is no way that Roy is going to let this excellent opportunity of a cover story get away from him.
“Uh—” Ed starts.
Before Ed can get a word in, Roy leans a bit back into Mrs. Voight’s line of sight to bring her attention back to him.
“Yes!” Roy says hastily, somewhat too emphatically. “This is…Eddie. My…very serious boyfriend.” Laying it on a little thick there, Royboy? He can almost hear his aunt’s voice hissing in his ear. What an amateur.
Mrs. Voight looks delighted. “Roy, you coy, coy man. Why didn’t you tell me you had this kind of stunning man-candy on your arm?” Ed looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. Roy’s not sure what kind. He prays to every god he does not believe in for Ed to just play along. “He’s a treat! You have to bring him by the club some night. The girls are going to love him. Look at all that blonde hair!” Mrs. Voight’s eyes travel not-so-subtly down what’s visible of Ed’s torso and back up. “And those arms,” she adds.
This woman has no shame or sense of propriety, Roy decides.
Ed’s face heats up a stunning shade of pink which Roy tries very hard not to be pleased about. He stands and offers his hand out for Mrs. Voight to shake. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Ed is putting on his best country boy manners, it seems. Thank small mercies for that.
“The pleasure is all mine, dear. Oh Roy, you have to keep him. He’s so sweet!”
“That he is.” Roy puts on his most beatific grin while gazing, what he hopes comes across as lovingly, towards his very serious boyfriend Eddie. “I’m the luckiest man in Central.”
“Honey,” Ed mumbles just loud enough for them to hear, dipping his head in the perfect image of shy pleasure at Roy’s praise. His eyes flick up to look at Roy through his lashes and a jolt of heat shoots down Roy’s body. God, Roy didn’t expect Ed to play along so well.
Mrs. Voight still has her hands clasped around Ed’s and is grinning widely. She seems to be buying the show.
At last she releases Ed to address Roy again. “General Voight,” she says, and Roy rolls his eyes inwardly at the way she loves to flaunt her husband’s title as if his name wasn’t just Jeffrey, “was just asking me to check in with the girls about who is coming to the gala tomorrow night. We weren’t sure you were, but now you just have to come and bring Eddie to meet everyone. We’ve put a lot of work into the party, you know. It would be a shame for you to miss it.”
Roy reads her words for what they really mean: General Voight is expecting Roy to make an appearance at his wife’s charity gala if he wants the backing he needs with the Generals. Fair enough. Roy doesn’t usually mind putting in a little legwork, especially when there’s a free bar.
“We wouldn’t miss it.”
Mrs. Voight squeals and kisses him on the cheek again before saying her goodbyes and hurrying off down the sidewalk.
Roy sits down and allows himself to feel shell shocked for about half an instant before—
“What the fuck was that, Roy?”
Roy’s eyes snap up to Ed’s and Roy has never regretted teaching Ed all his tricks more in his life. Ed’s face is completely unreadable.
“I have no idea what you mean, Edward.” Roy takes a long sip of his tea and gazes longingly at his forgotten sandwich.
“Eddie?! Your very serious boyfriend?” Ed’s voice breaks a bit and just like that Roy’s clued in to how he’s really feeling. Ed’s cheeks are pink again in embarrassment. “I repeat, what the actual fuck?”
Roy groans. “Listen, Fullmetal—”
“Don’t call me that.”
Roy narrows his eyes. “Listen. She cornered me the other day and I just couldn’t take it anymore. If I have to hear another fifteen minute spiel about how perfect her lesbian sister is for me I will have an aneurysm.” He hears Ed quietly repeat back “lesbian sister” in wonder. “Nothing against Shelley. She’s great. She’d sooner beat me into a pulp than look at me.”
“What did you ever do to her?”
“I may have slept around with most of her lady friends some years ago,” he admits. That had probably been a mistake, albeit a fun one.
“Typical.”
“Anyway, I had to get her off my back and—”
“And lying and scheming comes naturally to you, so…”
Roy pauses with his mouth open, thinks better of it, and goes on. “I may have fed her a couple lines about my new committed relationship.”
“You told her you were dating me? What, because that’s so plausible, and it’s not like I’m around to deny it?”
“No no, nothing like that. I didn’t name any names. This was just wonderfully convenient.”
“Gee, thanks, Mustang.” But Ed doesn’t look too put off. In fact, he looks almost like he’s starting to enjoy himself somewhat. Better he enjoy himself at Roy’s expense than deck him.
“You’re welcome, Eddie dearest.” Ed straight up laughs at that and Roy knows they’re at least slightly out of the woods here, until a terrible idea cements itself in his head. “But—you know—it would be especially nice of you to help me keep up the ruse for a bit, since you’re in town.”
Ed had been biting into his sandwich and he almost coughs out the piece he was trying to chew. He swallows as quickly as he can and growls: “What do you mean by that?”
“Be my date tomorrow.”
“No fucking way.”
“And why not? Ashamed to be on my arm?” Roy smirks at Ed, trying to bait him.
“Fuck you, Mustang. I have better things to do.”
“Right, because you have plenty of other social engagements that don’t involve eating kebabs from your favorite Cretan food stand and holing up in the Central library until closing.”
“You know me too well,” Ed admits, and he’s kind of laughing.
“Come on, I’ll treat you to dinner any time you like while you’re here—at that buffet you like—and you can stay in my guest bedroom instead of the hotel. That means access to my personal library, which I know you love, and free reign with my carefully curated selection of espresso beans.”
Ed hums but he’s not sold.
“And I’ll drop you off and pick you up from the train station for the next…” Roy thinks for a moment. “Two trips into Central.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Fine. But I don’t have a suit with me, so you’re paying for a rental.”
“Deal.”
They shake and then dive back into their meals as if something earth shattering didn’t just happen.
After a minute Ed glances up at him. “Are we really doing this?”
“Why not?” Roy shrugs. “How hard could it be to pretend we’re madly in love with each other?”
Ed doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he snickers and says, “Man-candy.”
+
Before heading back to the office Roy gave Ed the key to his townhouse. Roy ends up coming home closer to ten o’clock than dinner time. He lets himself into the foyer and peels off his coat, gloves, and boots before setting everything neatly in its place. Ed’s coat is hanging on the hook next to Roy’s usual one, as if Ed knows exactly where his spot is in Roy’s life. He tries not to dwell on that too closely.
Roy peers into the living room on the way to the kitchen to find some food. Ed is lying on the plush leather couch with his legs dangling over the arm and a book held aloft over his face. Roy smiles.
“Hey.” Ed waves a bit but doesn’t actually look up at Roy. Roy doesn’t answer, instead slipping past and into the kitchen. He finds some kebabs neatly wrapped in a cardboard to-go box in the refrigerator and lets himself smile just a bit wider. There are two small containers of Roy’s favorite sauces stacked next to it, as well as a bottle of spicy Cretan ale. Roy takes it all out and shuffles back to the living room after popping the top off of the bottle.
When Ed senses him approaching he scooches up higher on the couch so his back is against the arm and tucks his legs in so Roy can sit on the opposite end. Roy glances down at Ed’s socked feet as he sits. His toes are wiggling a little.
It pains Roy to think about how adorable that is.
Ed nudges Roy’s thigh gently with one foot and says: “How was the rest of it?”
“What?” Roy bites into the first kebab and lets his eyes flutter shut.
“You know.” Ed waves a hand but doesn’t look away from his book. “It. Running the country.”
“Oh. Fine. Nothing to report.”
“You’d better be working hard.”
“Who are you trying to impress? Riza?”
“I can’t let you forget I’ve got money on you.”
When Roy looks over this time Ed is eyeing him. His face is serious, golden eyes dark and intense in the dim light of the living room.
“I haven’t forgotten, Edward.”
Ed stares at him for a moment longer before turning back to the book. “Good.”
And Roy hasn’t. He’s made a lot of promises in his career—in his life—but this one he cares about more than most. Every time he has a few coins in his palm from a cup of coffee or a newspaper he pokes around a bit at them with his thumb, always counting to see if they happen to add up to the right amount.
He keeps falling short.
Roy wants to keep this particular promise with a fierceness that scares him sometimes. And it’s not the intensity with which he wants the fuhrership that frightens him. No, that he’s grown long used to.
It’s the way he longs to prove to Ed that the sacrifices Ed made were worth it. That Ed’s trust in him is well founded. That Roy has what it takes to atone for his past and live up to the hope so many have in him to fix things—the hope Ed has. Somewhere along the way, Ed’s opinion on this matter has come to outweigh almost any other.
Part of it is the way that Ed has always shown how much he believes in him, when it comes right down to it. There wasn’t always trust there, but there was respect and a surety that Roy would do what it takes. And every time Roy started to slip, Ed was one of the people there kicking him back into action, building him back up for the next siege.
So no, Roy hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten one thing.
“I can hear you thinking over there and I think you should learn to relax a little,” Ed says quietly. Roy huffs a laugh and resumes eating his dinner. “Also…” And here Ed hesitates so now Roy is paying careful attention, even if he doesn’t turn from his food in the slightest. “We should probably, you know, discuss The Plan.” Ed makes air quotes around the last two words.
“The Plan?” Roy raises an eyebrow at him and Ed sits up, earmarking his page, which makes Roy cringe, and tosses his book on the coffee table. Ed keeps his automail leg tucked in front of him on the couch and lets the other dangle to the floor, facing Roy.
“Yeah, you know, for being your lover tomorrow night.” Ed grins and wiggles his fingers in Roy’s direction.
“Ah.”
“Indeed,” Ed mocks.
“Well… What would you normally do with a romantic partner? We can just do whatever feels natural to you,” Roy asks, trying to hide how shaken he feels by the whole thing, and Roy doesn’t want to scare Ed off with the intensity of affection Roy wishes he could lavish on him.
Ed scoffs. “I don’t think you’d care for that when in polite company.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, if we’re going to fucking go for it, you probably don’t want my hand on your ass all night and my tongue down your throat when we think no one’s looking.”
Roy chokes and quickly swigs his beer. “I beg your pardon? What are they teaching you in Creta?” he jokes.
Ed laughs with a wild edge Roy’s not sure he likes.
“Oh, you know, it’s just wild orgies and sex dungeons over there.”
Roy tries very hard not to wheeze again.
“I haven’t read about that in any of the missives from the embassy,” he says.
“Oh, so they don’t tell you about all the women lying around offering body shots and the fountains full of wine? The men posing like living statues with grape leaves in front of their dicks?” Roy knows Ed is ribbing him but just hearing the suggestions makes Roy feel hotter under the collar than he would like. He’s not some blushing virgin by any means, but when Ed is the one being suggestive he feels a little weak. This is why he always gets plastered when the team brings Ed out for bar nights. Breda and Havoc love to work Ed up into telling some raunchy stories from his travels. Right now Roy can barely take Ed talking about a little ass groping.
“Not quite.”
“No fun.”
“We might need to be a little more discreet than that.”
“No fucking fun,” Ed says, and he winks. He winks.
Roy tries to move the conversation along even though he feels like he might be having a heart attack. Ed is teasing him—maybe even flirting if you look at it a certain way. Roy’s trying not to.
“Just some light intimacy and maybe a dance or two. You do know how to dance, don’t you, Fullmetal?”
“Don’t call me that and yeah, I know enough.”
“Good. I guess I should apologize now just in case Mrs. Voight and her friends get their hooks into you.”
Ed waves a hand. “No worries. I can be charming.”
“Right.”
“Hey!” Ed punches Roy in the arm, not without some force. “I’ve grown up a little.”
“A little.”
Ed stares at him for a moment and then punches him again. “Don’t even fucking start.”
“I didn’t!”
“Just for that, I’m taking your last kebab.” Ed snatches it before Roy can pull the box away.
“You bought these for me!”
“Yeah, so technically they’re mine because I paid for them.” He fits practically the whole kebab in his mouth in one go and slides the meat off with his teeth before Roy can take it back. That’s just filthy, Roy thinks sourly as he turns back to his meal.
Once Roy is done eating they settle back into the couch cushions side by side, so close Roy can feel the heat of him against his arm. Roy lets the beer bottle dangle from loose fingers, sloshing the drink inside around.
“We should still set some expectations and boundaries. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Edward.”
“Since when? You love to push me out of my comfort zone.”
“This is different.”
“I guess.” Ed shrugs as he falls quiet. He pulls the bottle out of Roy’s hands and takes a swig before passing it back. Roy wonders when exactly they had become so casually close—years ago at this point. “It’s just like any other mission, right? At least the ones that were more subterfuge than kicking some ass. It’s just playing the right part to get the job done, to get the result we want.”
“I feel like we may have raised you a bit too politically-minded after all.”
Ed barks out a laugh. “Well, I’ve been backing you guys up for a long time. What’s another push to get you where you need to be? Especially after everything you did for me and Al…”
“We do appreciate the help,” Roy says. He means the team.
“I know you do,” Ed says. He means Roy. They pause again. Then Ed sighs, puts his hands on his knees, and levers himself up. He stretches, rising up onto his toes and exposing a small sliver of skin where his shirt has bunched up near his waist. “Let’s just play it by ear, like we usually do. You and I are pretty fucking good at improvising anyway. When has that ever gone wrong?” He looks down at Roy with a funny expression on his face that makes Roy’s insides twist painfully.
“Can’t think of a single time.”
“Exactly. I’m going to head up to bed. See you tomorrow?”
“Goodnight, Ed.”
“Night.”
+
Roy spends longer than he usually would in front of the mirror on Friday night. He feels only a little ridiculous for the extra preening. At this point he’s starting to think he should accept that things with Ed are going to snowball out of control no matter how hard he tries to keep himself in check. So he might as well look downright stunning while it happens.
He just hopes that whatever happens between them, he won’t lose Ed forever.
A spritz of his ritziest cologne later and Roy is stepping out of his bedroom and heading downstairs, but the sight of Ed in the hallway below stops him short.
Ed is standing in front of the foyer mirror, fixing his tie. Roy’s breath catches in his throat and he makes a small noise as he clears it, which startles Ed into turning to look up at him.
There is no way he’s going to survive this.
Ed is in a very slim-fitting black three piece suit, with his shoes shined, pristine white gloves on his hands, and golden hair twisted into a knot at the back of his neck. His cufflinks have red gemstones in them that wink at his wrists. Everything is perfectly tailored, perfectly in place. He’s drop dead gorgeous and glowing and fucking delicious and Roy has never wanted someone more than he does in that moment.
A sly grin stretches across Ed’s face.
“Well, don’t you look handsome,” Ed says, and if his voice isn’t lower than usual Roy is hearing things. It’s practically fucking husky. Shit.
Roy gestures at himself. “Dress blues help a lot.”
Ed rolls his eyes. “Come on, Mustang. You’ve never been one to give credit to anything but your own good looks. Don’t get shy on me now.”
Roy pads down the rest of the stairs and starts pulling his shoes on when he reaches the bottom so he doesn’t have to look at Ed. “I’m trying out a new thing called modesty.”
“It’s not working for you. Hurry up and help me with my tie.”
“Yes, your highness.” Roy finishes up his laces and approaches the younger man. Ed chuckles and hands Roy the ends of his tie. “You’re twenty-five and still can’t tie a tie?”
“Don’t give me grief,” Ed says. Roy tugs the fabric tighter around Ed’s throat than strictly necessary, making Ed hitch in a breath. “Hey,” he complains softly.
Then he reaches out and finger combs a loose strand of Roy’s hair back behind his ear where it had fallen out of its slicked back arrangement. Roy tries very hard not to flinch or think or breathe or anything really.
“That’s better.” Ed’s voice is still so soft. Roy quickly finishes with the tie and steps back a good two feet, trying not to inhale the fresh scent of Ed’s cologne that wafts towards him. How on earth is he going to spend all night with Ed on his arm if he can’t even handle this?
Roy hurries them out to the chauffeur idling at the curb that he called earlier. He has to get this night started so he can make it out the other side. He pulls the door of the car open, ushers Ed in and across the seat, and slides in after him. In a moment they’re off across the city to the Voight’s posh manor house. Roy spends some of the ride thinking about how he should figure out how to hike up the taxes in this neighborhood, rather than about Ed’s vivid presence beside him.
“Hey Roy.” Ed nudges him in the side as the car starts pulling into the round drive set back on the large grounds of the manor. “You know people will recognize me, right?”
“They might. You aren’t around that much these days, and you don’t have your trademark arm anymore. Plus, you’re actually taller now,” Roy says, trying to get a friendly rise out of Ed. Ed seems to ignore it completely, much to Roy’s discomfort.
“Do you want me to lie?” He doesn’t look very happy about that, and Roy doesn’t want to press the issue.
“No, just…don’t volunteer the information.”
“Alright.”
They stop at the front steps sooner than Roy feels he’s ready, and then Roy is pushing open the door and turning back to Ed with his highest kilowatt smile and offering Ed an arm.
And Ed is smiling back up at him and folding his hand into the crook of Roy’s elbow, and they sweep up the stairs together and into the gala.
The front entrance hall has two sweeping staircases up to a landing that overhangs the first stage of the party. The Voight’s mansion is done up in cream and gold with winks of Amestrian blue to remind everyone of exactly whose power it is influencing the proceedings. No matter which particular philanthropy this event is in support of, it’s all by the might of the Amestrian military and her most generous of hosts.
Roy would laugh if he wasn’t so bitter and long used to the opulence of these events. Decorating in Amestris colors is a bit on the nose. As it is, he glances over at Ed out of the corner of his eye so he can watch for any small hint of Ed’s own disgust. Ed has never been a fan of the ostentatiously wealthy, nor their political war games held over canapes and sparkling cocktails. He is much more at home actually helping people in need, or throwing a well deserved punch, as he has been quick to remind Roy in the past.
Ed’s eyes are wide and sparkling, though, a small smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. He’s still playing the part. In that moment Roy finds himself wishing for Ed’s honesty instead. It’s only when he glances back at Roy with a small, mocking quirk of one eyebrow that Roy feels relieved.
The flow of incoming party goers draws them to the host and hostess, who are greeting people by the doors to the main ballroom space.
General Voight is a large, solid man, with thick gray hair and a handsome smile. He’s a little taller than Roy, and has never shied away from looking down his nose at Roy at every opportunity. He’s old money—legacy military—content to sit back and let others scurry around beneath him doing his dirty work, and leaning with his rank and title towards any initiatives that benefit him most. He could be a political threat—maybe would be if he hadn’t been raised with a silver spoon. Instead that role is filled by his wife, who tonight stands at his right hand with the knowing gleam of a woman reveling in her success.
Mrs. Voight will get whatever funding she needs for her current pet project, and net her husband some favors, as well.
Roy puts on his most rakish smile as they approach.
“Mrs. Voight,” Roy says, releasing Ed’s arm to lean forward and kiss each of Mrs. Voight’s perfectly dusted cheeks. “Thank you for your gracious invitation. We’re delighted we could make it tonight, and you must accept my deepest apologies for the late RSVP.”
Mrs. Voight tinkles out a polite laugh and smiles back. “Think nothing of it, Roy. We’re happy you could make it.”
“You might remember my beau…” Roy trails off and indicates Ed, who has been standing at his side almost shyly, if he didn’t know the blonde better than that.
“Of course! Lovely to see you, darling.” She kisses Ed, too. “Honey, this is Roy’s new gentleman friend, Eddie. You remember Roy telling us about him the other night.”
General Voight thrusts out a big hand, which Ed grasps to shake. Roy sees Voight eyeing Ed up and down, trying to place him. He even glances down at Ed’s flesh right hand for a moment before he releases it. Ed just smiles politely and says: “Nice to meet you, General, sir. You have a lovely home.” Roy hides his laugh with a cough.
Before Voight can respond, Roy moves to shake his hand. “Seconded, General. Thanks so much for having us.”
“Mustang.” He shakes back. “Be sure to catch me for a drink later, won’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Roy says. Mrs. Voight smacks her husband lightly on the arm.
“Oh, you two—no business at a party! Let Roy enjoy his evening, darling. You can draw swords again at the office on Monday.” Roy does not like that particular double entendre. Eugh.
“If you’ll excuse us?” The Voights’ nod as they move to receive the next couple, and Roy steers Ed into the ballroom.
“Was that a close call or what?” Ed breathes into Roy’s ear as he leans in close. Roy closes his eyes for a moment as the rush of hot air moves across his skin. “Thought he had me pegged.”
As Ed leans back into his own personal space, Roy maneuvers them towards one of the open bars with a smile. “Voight’s not that observant if you don’t give him a chance. I think your arm had him duped.”
“Yeah, I’m like that superhero who fools everyone with his secret identity by putting on a pair of specs.” Roy looks at Ed askance. “What? I read.” Ed rubs the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin. “I mean, I read things other than books about alchemy.”
“Comic books?”
“The ride from Creta to Central is very long, you know, and they sell those at the station for next to nothing. And anyway, how would you know?”
“I listen to the radio play,” Roy admits a bit sheepishly. Ed just laughs.
They mingle near the bar for the next half hour or so, saying hello to Roy’s colleagues and acquaintances. Roy manages to snag an hors d'oeuvres or two for Ed to keep him happy, but also to help soak up some of the alcohol early. Ed’s a lightweight when it comes right down to it, and a full night of social drinking usually ends with him doing acrobatics in inappropriate places to impress Breda and Havoc.
Ed laughs when Roy says as much, but concedes the point. He jokes about doing the splits in the middle of the dance floor, which prompts some mildly flirty comments about his flexibility. Roy plays right along. It’s all for show, anyway.
Right?
They’ve circulated to the opposite end of the ballroom when Roy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder. Roy turns, a placid smile already on his face.
“General Mustang! Good to see you,” says a man about Roy’s age in matching dress blues. They shake hands enthusiastically and Roy lets his smile turn a little more honest.
“Colonel Riley! Didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you were still stationed in West City!”
“Oh, I am!” The young man laughs. He runs a hand through his short brown hair and shrugs. “I just jumped at the opportunity to be the one to report in at Central this time around. Couldn’t miss one of these shindigs, of course! You know I love a free bar.” They clink glasses. Riley turns to look at Ed. “Who’s this? One of your subordinates?”
“Actually…” Roy says, trailing off. He slips his arm around Ed’s waist and draws him close. He can hear Ed’s small intake of breath.
Riley’s eyes widen. “No way. No fuckin’ way! Did you tie the knot?”
“Not yet! I’m wearing him down,” Ed jumps in. He shakes Riley’s hand enthusiastically. “I’m Eddie.”
“Is that a twang I hear?” Riley asks.
“You’ve got me. I’m from the East originally, but I’ve been trying to shake it for years.”
“I’m sure this guy loves it,” Riley says, jerking a thumb at Roy. “He’s a sucker for a country boy.”
“That I am.” Roy doesn’t think before taking the opening. He pulls Ed even closer to place a kiss on his cheek. Ed blushes a startling shade of pink that Roy is determined not to think about. It’s adorable, though.
“Don’t I know it.” Ed rolls his eyes playfully. “That and the blondes.”
That comment makes Roy splutter and Riley guffaw.
“I like this one, Roy. He’s got you figured out. You need to hustle him down the aisle.”
“Apparently so,” Roy croaks. He downs a big mouthful of his scotch.
“I mean it. You know what you’re getting into, right?” Riley asks Ed. “This guy is a pain in the ass. I have never met a son of a bitch pickier about his personal grooming routine. What a control freak! Though I suppose you must have seen what a tightass he is by now and haven’t run yet.”
Ed nods his head sagely. “Yeah, but it’s nothing a little stress relief can’t fix. Well, that and a healthy pour of whiskey.” Ed is grinning at Roy unabashedly, as if he didn’t just suggest that all Roy needs is a good fucking every now and then. Roy’s going to strangle him.
Riley just claps Ed on the back. “It’s good to see the bastard’s finally settling down now he knows what’s good for him. Back in the day he was insatiably non-monogamous, if you know what I mean.”
“I’ve heard a few stories…”
“Don’t believe all of them—only the bad ones!” Riley and Ed share a good laugh at Roy’s expense, leaving Roy to wonder where he could have gone so wrong in his life. Then he remembers that a lot of his past reputation is entirely Maes’ fault. Maes loved a tall tail—the raunchier the better. Roy pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Between you, me, and the wife, I’ve always wondered—he must be great in the sack, right?” Riley continues, voice conspiratorial.
“This is hardly the appropriate time to be discussing this—” Roy tries. He is in pain and misery. He is in pure agony. Discussing his past sexual dalliances with Ed was not on his bingo card tonight.
Although knowing Ed, he should have just thrown the bingo card out the moment they got here, or better yet something like fifteen years ago.
Ed just grins. “Phenomenal,” he says. He must be enjoying this.
Riley blows out a breath. “I bet! Listen, if you two are ever in West City and want to come have dinner with us, my wife is tremendous.”
“I hope you’re implying she’s a tremendous cook, Colonel,” Roy says. He tries to put some authority back into his voice.
“Exactly.” Riley winks. “Good to catch up with you anyway, Mustang. You know I’ve always got to give you a hard time, especially now that Hughes isn’t around to do it for us, God rest his soul.”
“I appreciate that. Hughes would be proud that someone's taken up the mantle.” They shake hands and Riley laughs again before excusing himself to go find his next mark.
Ed presses in closer to Roy’s side and says: “Did he just proposition us?”
“Ah. Don’t take Colonel Riley seriously. He’s got a big mouth.”
“I’ll say,” Ed snickers. “What were you doing before you met me?”
“Sowing my wild oats, Edward,” Roy teases back. He likes the way Ed’s cheeks turn pink again.
“Yeah, yeah. And how much of that was just for show?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
There’s a pregnant pause. Ed’s eyes gaze up into his, dark and intense, almost like he’s looking for something.
“Maybe I do.” He licks his lips. Then he smirks. “It would make for a more convincing ruse if I did.”
Right. Roy will take the excuse, no matter how weak it might have sounded, at face value. Ed’s just having fun. He’s just doing what Roy asked him to. He’s here doing a job—a favor, a huge favor—for Roy and he’s going to do it thoroughly, just like he does everything else. Ed is clever and precise and intentional and he gets the job done, no loose ends about it. It’s not Roy’s fault that he finds himself so susceptible to a bit of verisimilitude.
And if Ed gets some kicks while he does it, then Ed will do that, too. Making fun of Roy has always been one of Ed’s favorite pastimes.
It just usually feels like they’re in on the joke together, and this… He doesn’t know what this is.
Roy passes their drinks to a server standing by and begins pulling Ed towards the dance floor.
“Dance with me.” It’s almost a command. Roy wonders if Ed would obey him if it was.
Ed lets himself be pulled effortlessly into Roy’s arms and they fall into the pattern the other dancing couples had been following. Roy’s not really paying attention to it except to stay on beat and lead Ed around the floor. Ed seems content to let himself be led, which is something.
Ed moves with more grace than Roy had expected, but that shouldn’t be surprising. Ed moves with grace in everything else he does, after all. He doesn’t even look at his feet. He keeps his eyes fixed on Roy’s and moves further into his embrace after they execute a small spin.
“You really can dance, can’t you, Fullmetal?”
Ed moves closer still. He angles his head so that their cheeks are almost touching. If Roy turned his head, he would be close enough to nuzzle the hair at Ed’s temple. He feels Ed’s small sigh.
“I told you not to call me that. Please.” It’s so quiet Roy can’t quite believe he actually heard Ed say it. Before Roy can comment, Ed’s speaking again. “You can hold onto me tighter. I won’t break, you know.”
“I know. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine.”
Roy lets them fall into silence again, but he curls his fingers in a little more where they are resting at Ed’s waist.
“Is it, though?” he asks after a moment.
Ed pulls back enough to look up into Roy’s face. It’s not that great a height difference anymore—maybe just a few inches.
“Yes. You can stop asking. I could have said no to helping you out at any time.” There’s a hint of anger in Ed’s gaze which confuses Roy.
“I don’t mean to be patronizing—”
“Then don’t be.” Ed looks away again and sighs. Though the knot of his golden hair is still twisted up tight, some tendrils have escaped to brush his cheeks. Ed looks so different with his hair pulled back like this. The angles of his face are sharper, his jaw more cutting. He looks a lot like Hohenheim. “Look, Roy, everyone else is here doing their best to keep on fighting the good fight, and where have I been? Practically hiding out in Creta, pretending to be busy.”
“You don’t like what you’re doing at the university?”
“I do, but I miss being useful. Really useful. I know the research I’m doing is…helpful. It’s fine. It’s great, even. It’s important. But anyone else could be doing it.”
“Edward—”
“I could be here, helping us get that much closer to what we want,” he hisses vehemently.
“And what is that, exactly?” Roy asks, as if he doesn’t know what Ed is referring to. He just didn’t know it was so high on Ed’s priority list, too.
“You, on that seat. The Fuhrership. With the keys to the fucking kingdom. With the power to finally finish what we started—what you started. Hell, let’s make you Prime Minister, if that’s how you want to play it. We’ve done enough waiting and playing nice.”
“I hardly think staging a coup and overthrowing the government is playing nice, Ed.”
“And I know that it’s not that simple,” he huffs. “It’s not like you haven’t been ruthless every step of the way. I know that. You and the team have been giving every waking moment to this. You pour your soul into this. I want to be part of that. I know I can help. I want back in.”
Roy can’t help his look of surprise, quickly hidden as he turns and presses his lips to Ed’s hair. It looks like a kiss, but it’s just another way of hiding from the outside world—keeping his mask and the ruse in place.
“You don’t mean that, Edward. You don’t want to reenlist. Are you just looking for more excitement? Go traveling again—stay in Xing with Al for a while. Go to Drachma, sail across the sea. Go learn everything there is to learn. You don’t really want what’s left here, this unending uphill battle to right Amestris’ wrongs even though we know we’ll never be able to truly atone. You were never part of the problem. You don’t owe anything to Amestris, nor to us. It’s the other way around entirely. We owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”
Ed turns his head away. Roy can tell he’s trying not to glare. He’s trying to look as if he’s spinning around in his lover’s arms with not a concern in the world. Roy feels like a part of his heart is cracking, a small fissure that might be the fault line everything else hinges on.
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Then tell me,” Roy murmurs, even though he is so afraid of the truth.
“Roy, I—”
“Can we cut in, gentlemen?” Mrs. Voight and her sister Shelley are standing nearby, twin smiles on their faces, though Roy knows not to trust the facade.
“By all means,” Roy says graciously, allowing Mrs. Voight to pull Edward away from him. He hesitates for a moment before going with Shelley, both out of concern for Ed and his own self preservation.
Shelley’s smile turns a bit vicious as Roy sweeps her across the dance floor, trying his best to look polite and interested, rather than like he’s angling them so he can keep an eye on Ed.
“You look lovely tonight,” he says to the woman. Shelley scoffs.
“Don’t insult me, Mustang. We both know I’m only here to let my sister ply your beau for all his deepest, darkest secrets. We’re all dying to know where he came from…and what he could possibly see in you.” She looks repulsed. Roy doesn’t blame her.
“Ah.”
“No need for small talk.” Shelley glares over at her sister.
Roy tries anyway. “How is your friend Maple?” He’s an idiot.
Shelley’s glare snaps back to him. “None of your gosh darn business, that’s how.”
“Why Shelley,” he goads because he can’t help himself. “I’m surprised at your manners.”
“Like you would recognize manners if they hit you in the face.” Her expression is vicious.
“Touche.” Roy knows his dismissive tone of voice will not make the situation any better.
The music turns to something more upbeat, and Ed looks like he’s enjoying himself. Or he’s pretending, at least. Something he says makes Mrs. Voight laugh loudly and Ed seems pleased with himself. That’s good. Roy forgets sometimes that Ed has mostly grown out of his awkward years. He forgets that he’s not the only one who is so easily charmed by the young man.
The thought sends a flash of jealousy through him. How many other people have fallen for Ed’s unique brilliance? His wide smiles and all the molten gold of him seems irresistible. And Ed, for all his posturing, is so deeply kind. It’s easy to take advantage of his nature, to use him for one’s own selfish gain, whether it’s his power or beauty that’s the real prize.
Roy knows Ed isn’t naive, though. He knows Ed doesn’t let most people in—not really. He should be grateful he’s one of them. And if Ed told Roy he could have him, Roy would never be foolish enough to let him go. He’s grateful no one else has tried and succeeded.
Harsh reality hits Roy like a douse of ice water. Ed isn’t his—can’t be and won’t be. What is he thinking? None of this matters—seeing him once every few months, exchanging calls and letters, growing to know him deeply, intimately even. Falling in love with him…
Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? He’s in love. He has been for a long time.
That doesn’t make Ed his.
That also means he can’t let Ed tie himself down to him. Their cause might be the farthest thing from a sinking ship at this point, but the waters churn deep and Roy doesn’t want to see Ed dashed against the rocks if things go wrong. He’d never forgive himself if Ed got hurt.
And when they succeed—he knows they will, he has to believe that—what life would Roy be giving Ed? One full of late nights and lonely dinners; endless societal parading; deep scrutiny and a loss of any anonymity Ed might have had left; the constant threat that Roy could be struck down for someone else’s political gain, or worse—that Ed would be hurt to manipulate or punish Roy for his crimes and ambitions.
Roy knows Ed can take care of himself. He just doesn’t want to be the reason Ed has to.
Assuming Ed would want him anyway.
The song draws to a triumphant close and the couples separate with polite applause. Shelley pulls away from Roy and Ed kisses Mrs. Voight’s hand politely before returning to Roy’s side. He’s smiling widely.
Ed leans in close to Roy as they head back to the bar. “That wasn’t so bad. She’s nice! But it looks like you could use a stiff one.” Ed laughs as they lean against the bartop and he holds up two fingers to request drinks from the bartender.
They clink glasses.
“Mrs. Voight didn’t grill you?”
“Oh, she definitely did. But she likes you. It was easy to play up all your good qualities.” He winks at Roy and Roy grimaces. “What? I didn’t say anything too salacious!” the young man insists.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Roy says, waving a hand. “Shelley just put me in a bad mood.” It was a bit of a lie, but a good cover. It was Roy left to his own thoughts that had done the damage.
A quick glance at Ed tells him he didn’t buy it for a second. Edward’s face turns serious, as though the specter of their interrupted conversation has resettled on his shoulders.
After a long moment where Ed’s focused gaze searches Roy’s own, Ed gently leads Roy by the elbow towards a side door. “We need to talk,” is all he says. Roy feels his stomach plummet.
The doorway leads into an abandoned hallway, long and still lavishly decorated, though dimly lit, with a small alcove set into the wall near the far window. Ed drags them down the hall until he can pull them into the nook. Moonlight half lights the hallway, casting Ed’s face in a pale wash of color and deep shadows.
Roy has to look away.
“What is it, Edward?” he asks. He knows his voice sounds weak, but he can’t bring himself to confront Ed’s intensity.
“You want to know what I want. I’ll tell you. But you need to tell me something first. What am I really doing here?”
Roy looks up in surprise. “I told you—you were just in the right place at the right time. You’re a friend doing me a favor.”
“Is that what I am?”
“As opposed to what…my subordinate? You haven’t been that for a long time.” Roy doesn’t voice the other, more intimate, option.
“You and I both know that you could have arranged for anyone to be here. Vanessa, for one, would have loved attending a ball. You don’t take her out enough. She complains every time I drop in.” Ed reaches to take Roy’s empty glass from his hands and sets both drinks on the edge of the window sill. “I’m not meant to be here,” he says gently as he turns back to Roy, shoving both hands in his pockets. It’s an old tick of his—he used to do that when he was feeling self conscious about his automail.
“You know the intricacies of the operation better than Vanessa does.”
“Is that really what this is? A fucking operation? Listen, I know I talked like it was, but I didn’t mean it. I mean, I did. I would do anything to help you. Anything, Roy. But don’t fucking deny that there’s something else going on here.”
“I don’t know what—”
“Don’t lie to me, Roy.” Ed’s voice is a desperate rasp. “We’ve been dancing around this for fuck knows how long. We can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore. I can’t.” Roy starts when he sees the wet gleam at the corner of Ed’s eyes. He’s reaching out a hand to touch Ed’s face before he even registers what he’s doing.
Suddenly the door at the end of the hall opens with a blast of light and sound from the ballroom. Ed’s eyes widen when he sees who’s stumbled upon their hiding place.
He sends a panicked look back to Roy and hisses: “Kiss me!”
“What?” Roy chokes.
Before he can turn to see who Ed’s recognized, Ed is holding his face between his hands and is hauling him in. “Just, quick—kiss me!”
And then his lips are on Roy’s and every thought, doubt, impulse, question, anything Roy has running through his head melts away. His hands find Ed’s trim waist and he’s pushing Ed against the wall of the alcove with crushing force. Ed’s lips open in a gasp and a quiet moan as his back hits the wall. Roy’s tongue sweeps in to claim him.
It’s the most glorious kiss Roy has ever had in his life, not that he’s surprised, given who he’s kissing. The wet heat of it, Ed’s trembling frame below him, the small sounds he makes in the back of his throat as Roy pushes his thigh between Ed’s—it is everything Roy has ever wanted and more. He feels like he is being flayed alive by the fire of it. Like Ed is burning everything down around him.
Ed’s hands tangle in his hair, gripping hard enough to hurt, and Roy feels Ed push his hips up into his. Roy gasps. The hard press of Ed’s erection is too honest. Roy meets him eagerly.
Roy slides a hand up to grasp Ed’s neck, forcing his head to tilt back and to the side so Roy can deepen the kiss. Ed groans loader this time. It’s an addictive sound.
Distantly Roy hears the door swing shut again. Darkness sweeps down the hallway like it’s giving them permission to let go and give in and get lost in each other. So they do.
Before Roy even knows what he’s doing, he’s tonguing at Ed’s throat, hands running down the lithe body in front of him, wrapping around Ed’s thighs and up to grab his ass. Roy pulls them even closer together.
“Roy—” Ed gasps his name and it’s the most beautiful thing Roy has ever heard.
He’s on his knees before Ed, then, looking up through dark lashes at the panting man above him. Ed is drawing ragged breaths in and out, still clutching weakly at Roy’s hair. Roy stares a moment longer, seeking permission. When all Ed can do is make a choked noise and tip his head back against the wall, Roy pushes Ed’s suit jacket back, then undoes the button of his slacks and pulls his zipper down. The hot push of Ed’s cock against his lips through the thin fabric of his boxers is almost too much.
He mouths at Ed’s clothed hardness, skims his nose against the exposed skin above the waistline of Ed’s pants. He breathes in the scent of his skin, trying to memorize it.
Roy pulls back, breathing hard, and looks up at Ed again. This time the blonde is watching him with rapt attention. Roy doesn’t break his gaze as he gently pulls Ed’s left leg up and over his shoulder so it falls down Roy’s back. He uses it to steady the man above him, clutching his thigh with a firm, loving hand. Roy’s other hand holds Ed’s right hip.
As Ed watches, Roy turns to press a tender, slow kiss to his metal suit-clad knee. Ed shudders out a breath. He looks ruined.
Roy frees Ed’s erection, hard and hot and achingly heavy, then pulls him into his mouth. Ed moans, a hand flying up so he can bite his knuckles to stay quiet.
Roy’s never tasted something so good, though he’s sure it’s just because it’s Ed—Ed he’s mapping out with his tongue. Ed he’s holding onto like a lifeline. Ed who’s writhing against him and moaning and wanting and accepting what Roy is giving him.
Digging his fingers into Ed’s thigh, Roy swallows him as deep as he can, wanting every single bit of Ed he can reach. Ed’s hips jerk involuntarily. His fingers clench in Roy’s hair.
“Fuck, Roy, I’m—”
Roy just holds on tighter.
When Ed comes it’s transcendent. He keens low in his throat and bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as his orgasm wracks through him. Roy savors every moment of it, trying to prolong Ed’s pleasure, not letting his gaze stray from Ed’s face. His hair has begun to tumble down out of its knot to spill forward on his shoulders. Roy swears he’s never seen someone more beautiful.
Ed’s chest is still heaving when he pulls Roy up to kiss him again. He groans into the kiss, letting Roy lick into his mouth and share the simple taste of him.
“God, you’re incredible,” he breathes.
“Would you say I’m phenomenal?” Roy grins into the next kiss, feeling Ed’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter. “Who were we trying to avoid, by the way?”
Ed gives him a lopsided smile. “I was saving you from Shelley and her henchmen.”
“Oh thank fuck,” Roy says. “Thank you, by the way, for coming with me and saving me from what I’m sure would have been a torturous evening.”
“You’re welcome.”
Ed’s mood sobers and he places his hands against Roy’s chest to hold him back slightly. He looks away from Roy, sucks in a deep breath, and seems to steel himself before turning back to meet Roy’s gaze.
“You asked me what I want.”
“I did,” Roy says. He thinks he knows at this point, but he needs Ed to say it, to make it real. Ed smiles at him but it’s shaky at best.
“You have no idea how long I’ve….” He pauses, swallows, tries again. “I want you, Roy, in any way you’ll have me. I think you want me, too, but I know it’s complicated and… Even if I’m just there, supporting you with the rest of the team, I’ll take it. Make me do paperwork, send me to fetch coffee—I just need to be near you.” Ed laughs roughly. “I mean, I hope you won’t just make me go on coffee runs. I hope you’ll let me have everything.”
“Oh Ed,” Roy breathes. “My dear Edward. You can have everything and more. I’m the one who should be on my knees begging for a moment of your attention. You have no idea how incredible you are, and how deeply you are loved by all of us, especially me. I have spent these past years aching to see you smile at me and hoping that maybe friendship with you would ever be enough. You could ask me for anything. I’d give it all up for you.”
“You don’t have to,” Ed says. Roy presses their foreheads together and they both laugh wetly. “I guess we’re going to have to compromise on the whole self-sacrifice thing we like to do, you big sap.”
“Our track record has been less than stellar in that regard.”
Ed smiles. “Yeah.”
They breathe together, taking each other in. After a moment, Roy can’t help voicing his concern. “Being with me, especially where I’m headed… My life isn’t always my own. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“But what if—” Roy rarely feels so off balance, so unsure about anything. He’s glad it’s Ed who is there to see it, to shore him up again.
Ed hushes him. “Whatever could happen, and it won’t, we’ll handle it. And anyway, it’ll have been fucking worth it for this.” Ed’s two flesh hands come up to caress Roy’s cheeks. He kisses him so sweetly, so earnestly.
And then he says: “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Eddie dearest.”
The grin Ed gives Roy is blinding.