Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or it's characters and all that jazz.
Author's note: This is a fic I wrote for feriowind, in exchange for art of
Hallowed. Hope you like it darling!
Summary: In which Ed discovers a love for classical music.
One year. One year since that first something that might have qualified as a date. Somehow, they could still stand to be around each other, and Ed came to the conclusion that they were both incredibly masochistic, because there wasn’t any other reason that two people who argued as much as they did should have made it this long.
Six months since he’d finally broken down and moved in, deciding that there was no point in paying for an apartment he was never at, anyway. Somehow, in that six months, the house had not been burned down or otherwise destroyed, and somehow they had even come to an amiable companionship… most of the time.
If he had to be honest, he might even be willing to concede that, even when they were arguing, he sort of loved the jerk, which was a good thing given how often they argued. He really, mostly definitely had to be a masochist, though, because surely even loving someone as much as he loved Roy did not merit this. Even Al had never wheedled him into anything less casual than slacks and a t-shirt, and here he was, fumbling with a tie, hoping to get himself put together before Roy came home and found him out. Here he was, doing all this for Roy, and the bastard didn’t even know about it yet.
He didn’t know about the stupid concert, either, but Ed figured that a year of putting up with each other merited some sort of celebration, and since he had no personal preference on the matter, a quick shuffle through Roy’s records had landed him with this idea. So what if he didn’t really care about classical music? He supposed he could put up with a few hours of it.
The creak of a door nearly made Ed jump out of his skin, and he wondered how it was that his lover always managed to come in so damn quietly. He ignored Roy, who was probably still standing in the doorway of the bedroom, brushing the last of his hair into a ponytail, before turning around.
Roy blinked at him once, for once not deigning to offer some manner of snide comment, and Ed spied his hands held behind his back, along with the edge of a short, wide, rectangular package.
“If you brought me flowers and chocolate, I will kick you,” Ed said matter-of-factly.
“I suppose it’s good I didn’t bring you flowers and chocolate, then,” Roy smirked, holding out the box.
“What is it?” Ed asked, head tilted just slightly to one side.
“I imagine if you open it, you’ll see.”
Ed did, tugging away the ribbon and paper, biting his tongue on a complaint about the wrapping, because bows were girly. All complaints were forgotten, though, as he revealed its contents.
“I’ve been looking for this book for months,” he squawked, face lit up in happiness.
Ed shook his head, as if trying to clear away his own excitement, and wrapped his arms around Roy in a brief hug, careful not to wrinkle the tux (though why that mattered was very much beyond him).
“You should get changed,” he said, pulling away, smile still brushed across his lips.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Ed laughed at the way Roy visibly shrank away from the mischievous grin he offered and turned on his heel to go wait in the living room.
Twenty minutes later, Ed began to understand why this silliness had been worth it. Roy looked good in black, and Ed feigned a cough to hide the sharp breath he took when he laid eyes on his boyfriend.
“Ready to go?” he asked, rather too quickly, but Roy only nodded in amusement, allowing himself to be led back to the car.
Dinner was the sort of affair that made Ed squirm in his seat, half expecting to be told he wasn’t sophisticated enough for this place. No one else seemed to notice that he was out of his element, though, and after a while he managed to relax. Between two glasses of red wine and Roy not bothering to mask a smile with his usual indifference, the whole ordeal was almost enjoyable.
“So what brought this on, anyway?” Roy asked over dessert.
Ed almost replied that there was nothing wrong with doing something really nice once in a while, but then he realized that he was acknowledging his usual demeanor as less than ideal. Besides, it might make Roy want to do this all the time, and he’d be damned if he was dressing up this much any more often than absolutely necessary.
“It just seemed like a good idea,” he finally settled on, spearing the last strawberry from his plate on the end of his fork.
“Well, it was very uncharacteristically sweet of you,” Roy smirked, and Ed fought the urge to throw something at him. It was probably good the waiter had been very, very good about clearing things off the table, or they might have become cannon fodder.
Ed hmphed. “If you’re going to tease me about it, see when the next time I do something this ridiculous for you, is.”
“It’s not ridiculous. It’s romantic,” Roy corrected.
“Same difference,” Ed grumbled halfheartedly, already beginning to forget why he was irritated.
“Well… thank you,” Roy murmured, reaching across the table to clasp Ed’s hand in his own.
“It’s not over yet,” Ed grinned, punctuating his words with an affectionate squeeze of his fingers.
The arrived at the concert hall, and even as they made their way to the box seats, Ed cringed, looking around at the other concert goers. They all were dressed to the nines, looked like they actually belonged there, and once again, Ed began to feel completely out of place.
He heaved a sigh of relief when they reached their seats, the entire section to themselves. One look at Roy, who still seemed stunned that his Edward Elric had done this was more than worth the hassle.
The lights dimmed and the curtains drew back to reveal the orchestra, and that guy with the pointy stick. Conductor, Ed corrected himself after a moment, smiling as he decided guy with pointy stick was more entertaining.
A flick of the conductor’s wrist, and the music began, a single violin, low and drawn out and mournful. A few more notes, and the rest of the orchestra had joined in, a sad, lulling tune.
Five minutes in, Ed had made a game of listening, really listening not to just the music as a whole, but picking it apart and deciphering each piece. Suddenly, classical music was far more interesting, as he mulled over whether that had been an oboe, or it the string instrument playing this particular set of notes was a violin or a viola.
He thought to ask Roy for his opinion, and looked over, the question poised at the tip of his tongue. He stopped, though. Roy’s eyes were closed, not in sleep, but as if it allowed him to truly feel the melody. He looked so happy, Ed couldn’t bring himself to disturb the man.
Instead, Ed decided to try it for himself. He let his eyes slide shut, relaxing into the plush velvety seat. It was strange what a difference it made. He could feel the ebb and flow of the music, the way it swayed and danced through his veins, and he’d never known you could speak so loudly without words until now.
Ed stopped trying to pick apart the mechanics of the music, instead listening to the meaning of it. It told a story, joyful and exuberant, bittersweet and forlorn, and in the end, he thought he might be exhausted by the sheer power of it.
The music wound down, and he almost felt drawn after it, as if listening to the song of a siren. He frowned the slightest bit, sad it was at its end, but when the curtain went down, it was perhaps Ed who clapped the loudest.
In the end, it had been nothing he imagined, and he laughed as he caught himself mulling over when the next time they could do this would be. For something like this, it might even be worth donning a tux again.
In the meantime, Roy did have an awful lot of records he hadn’t listened to…