Führer's Orders

"No! NO! I refuse!"

"Oh come on, give it a try. You know you want to."

"No."

"Are you disobeying a direct order from a superior!"

"N-no, sir, but—"

"No 'buts,' Mustang. You will start a relationship with Fullmetal."

Twenty-four hours had passed, and Roy had not seen Ed until the boy had brought his report to him. He turned to leave, but Mustang said, "Sit. Read. I've got paperwork, but I need to talk to you."

Mustang finished the paperwork, stood, walked around his desk, grabbed Ed by his elbow, and led him from the room. Roy had hated it when, ever since the Führer had ordered him to date Fullmetal, his mind had kept wandering to the boy, to the first time they had met, to the day the boy had come to East Headquarters, to the day Ed got his qualifications for being a State Alchemist. Images of the boy at times when he was particularly sad, happy, angry, irritated, etc. would not leave the twenty-eight-year-old alone. He had been overjoyed when he saw the blonde alchemist walk in the door, and Mustang cursed himself for it. While the adult finished his paperwork, he often found his gaze shifting from the papers to the teen on the office couch. Only when he closed his eyes to try to block the boy from his mind did he realize that he truly loved the boy and had loved him for long before the Führer had given him that unreasonable order.

When Ed asked where Mustang was taking him, all Roy said was "Führer's orders."

Disclamer: I don't own FMA.