Rating: PG for language and fluffy kissy stuff.
Prompt: 100moods #18 Content
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or it's characters and all that jazz.
He cannot call the boy, man actually, that he’s watching Fullmetal anymore. It isn’t the conspicuous absence of a pocket watch on his belt. Even the change in attire, as much a part of the person he knew as anything else, isn’t what’s done it. It’s been six years since Fullmetal disappeared, the world carrying on, perhaps a little less brightly without him. It’s been a year since Edward returned, and the more Roy is around him, the more sure he is that only Ed came back. There is still spirit and determination in his eyes, but there are no more quests, no focus to harness it, and so he throws himself into everything, content to live in the moment it would seem. He’s grown, only a few inches shorter than Roy now, and the days of a human whirlwind blustering into his office, flailing crimson clad arms and spouting obscenities have passed. It isn’t that Ed doesn’t get irritated, but everything about him is just a little more muted and pleasant.
If he’d been an attractive teenager, on the rare occasions his mouth wasn’t running, he was a heart stopping young man. He smiled more, and it reached his eyes, lit up his face in ways it never had when he was drowning in guilt and responsibility. He’s no longer awkward or hostile, finally at ease in his own skin. The fluid grace his fighting as a child had hinted at bleeds into his every movement, and Roy is helpless but to watch with interest as he allows himself to be tugged onto the dance floor.
He wonders where Ed learned to dance, finds it mildly amusing that Al doesn’t seem the slightest bit jealous that his new bride is being whisked about the reception hall by his brother. Ed and Winry are close, but not overly so, Ed’s hands resting chastely at the middle of her back, her own looped around his neck. They’re whispering, laughing, though it’s lost in the music, the beat that they move to.
For just a moment, Roy wishes he knew what it was like to live every moment with so much passion. It’s got to be exhausting, but he doesn’t have time to truly consider it because the song ends, and Ed’s heading for the table he’s at with an easy, fluid stride.
“Shouldn’t you be out there enamoring some poor girl?” Ed grins conspiratorially at him, and when did they become friends anyway?
Roy walked down the steps in front of headquarters. He’d nearly reached the bottom when he noticed a lithe figure sitting at the foot of the stairs, ponytail swaying in the breeze. Surely, it couldn’t be Al. The hair was too light, too sun kissed, but then they turned, and bright golden eyes shown at him lips upturned with mischief.
“Did ya miss me?”
Roy swallowed, buying seconds to regain his composure, careful not to actually answer the question.
“How long have you been here?” he asked slowly.
“Here as in on the correct side of the gate, here in Central, or here on the stairs?” Ed asked, smile broadening as he stood, eyes raking thoughtfully over Roy like he was considering something.
Roy snorted. Perhaps the time away hadn’t changed him. There was Ed still being as difficult as ever.
“Why didn’t you just come inside?” Roy asked, resigning himself to a pile of unanswered questions that he’d have to work on later.
“Of all the things you could have asked, that’s gotta be the dumbest one, Mustang.” Ed shook his head, skipping a stair in a long stride to the sidewalk. He began to walk away, glancing back once to see if Roy followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Coffee sounded good. It was a long train ride here Besides, they at least have places to sit. It’s a long story and I don’t really want to stand here forever telling it to you,” Ed explained.
Roy followed behind for a moment, blinking once to convince himself that Ed actually was there. Ed continued to walk, oblivious to Roy’s gaze. He’d grown some, longer and leaner, his movements full of a sort of grace that had usually been absent before.
Roy shook his head, walking a hair faster so that he wouldn’t be left staring at Ed’s back any longer. The two headed forward, side by side in companionable silence as buildings passed them by, rough concrete passing beneath them a step at a time.
“You know, I always knew Hawkeye was going to get sick of having to keep after you about that paperwork,” Ed joked, gesturing vaguely at the eye patch.
Roy hmphed at him, but said nothing more, breathing a relieved sigh. He’d worried that Ed might pity him, and that would be awkward, would shift the balance between them. In retrospect, it was a silly fear to have, as silly as thinking he might coddle Edward over his automail. Still, it was comforting in his own way.
“Maybe I should have dragged you to a bar instead. You look like you could use a drink,” Ed suggested, but he was heading into the coffee shop anyway, and Roy followed behind.
“It’s not every day someone comes back from the dead,” Roy murmured in return.
“You’re not saying you gave up on me, are you, Colonel?” Ed didn’t wait for an answer, turning towards the girl behind the counter to order.
Roy’s lips curled up in amusement as he watched her. She stared at Ed like she’d never seen a human being before. Ed, though, seemed oblivious, smiling absently in gratitude as she handed him his coffee. Some things about him just never changed.
Three hours later had run the gamut, tension as Ed recounted how he’d ended up in a city called London, inadvertently killing a young man who wore his face, to laughter as Ed flailed about in indignation about being greeted with a wrench to the head. It was only as the lights dimmed in the shop, the girl staring hopefully at Ed, even as she gently shooed them out, that he realized something had shifted. They were no longer a Colonel and his insubordinate… subordinate, but something like friends, or they might be given half the chance.
Much to his surprise, Ed had stayed in Central, found a job as a researcher, in no small part due to Al and Winry relocating.
And now, here he was, sitting across the reception table from Roy, shucking his tuxedo jacket before throwing back a glass of amber liquid.
“Are you alive in there?” he asked after a moment.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Roy groused.
“You’ve hardly said a word all night, and you’re not flirting with every pretty thing that happens by in a dress,” Ed responded.
“I don’t flirt,” Roy sniffed.
“Right, you… seduce or some such silliness, right?” Ed shook his head before continuing.
“Whatever you call it, you’re not doing it. I was just wondering who you are and what you’ve done with Roy,” Ed leaned forward as if he was waiting for a state secret. His name was warm and familiar on Ed’s lips, and he shivered involuntarily, nudging his thoughts away from the direction it headed.
“Whatever, why go flirt with them, when you’ve got me right here,” Ed smirked at him, in something resembling playfulness and the response was off Roy’s tongue before he had a moment to stop and think.
Ed blinked, once, twice, cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink as he mulled over what Roy had said.
“I… I never thought, I mean... Are you serious?” Ed bit his lip.
“I’m always serious,” Roy grinned deviously, waiting to see if the gamble paid off. His heart hammered in his chest, hoping he had gained something instead of driving away his sort of newfound friend.
Ed considered his words, eyes flashing with nervousness and something else, and finally, he smirked.
“It’s about damn time.”
He wasn’t sure how he got roped into cleaning up, but here he was, anyway. The reception hall was empty save for him and Edward, who was busily sweeping up confetti and streamers, humming along with the music that still played softly in the background.
“When did you learn to dance?” Roy asked, breaking the near silence.
“Huh? Oh, with Winry? That was just moving with the music,” Ed responded with a shrug before returning to his work.
So Ed had a great sense of rhythm. That was worth remembering.
Roy closed the distance between them, fingers pressing, feather light to Ed’s shoulder. It had hung between them all night, since their conversation, whatever it was. He was pulled to Ed like he was to fire, enticed by heat and want.
It was Ed who moved, grabbing his wrists and tugging him into a mockery of a hug, mismatched arms draped around Roy’s arms the way Winry had done to him. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment once again, and Roy decided it was a rather attracted look for him.
He allowed Ed to pull him to the middle of the floor before wrapping his arms around Ed, palms pressed to the small of his back, separated from bare skin only by a thin, white, button down shirt. Ed shivered, allowed himself to be guided into step with Roy, and they moved silently across the floor, swaying to the music.
Roy would have left it at that, content just to be close to Ed at the moment, but a face tipped back, lips whispering over his own, and he thought his heart might stop because Ed was kissing him.
He could get drunk on this. Ed’s hips swayed to the music, soft and sweet and languid. His lips moved against Roy’s in a soft murmur of a kiss. Ed’s hands moved from where they’d been linked at the back of his neck, inching up through his hair, slipping along his jaw, palm pressed warmly to his skin.
Roy’s tongue pressed and Ed’s lips parted like butter melting under a hot iron. It was affectionate in ways they never allowed themselves most of the time, and Roy couldn’t help but smile against Ed’s lips, drinking in the soft sighs that spill from Ed’s mouth.
He doesn’t ask for more, there will be time for that later. Right now, with Ed’s warmth pressed against him, sweet and nearly innocent, their lips pressed together like they had all the time in the world, he was content.