A/N: Lately I've noticed that a lot of what I change in the final drafts of stories is taking my way of talking out; if I didn't read these aloud to edit them, all the characters would sound like trucker's daughters in jack shirts from a logging town in BC! (i.e.: 'That didn't bother Edward, though, not as much as the second problem' was originally 'But that didn't seem near halfway so bad as the other problem' ^^;; )

Ed had been aware that Roy Mustang was an attractive man since he had the perception to notice such things. After all, you'd have to be blind not to see, but it had taken him longer to realise and accept the idea that he personally found the man attractive, too. Actually it took him about three years to realise he'd kill to have the same confident smirks and low, smoky tones the man directed at women – which he went through like a revolving door – directed at him.

And it was just his luck not to be the type who waited around. As soon as he got comfortable with the idea of being in love with his commanding officer, he needed to tell him. There were two problems with this; the first was that there were two possible outcomes; either Roy somehow impossibly felt the same and his world became made of awesome, or he was rejected and put in prison and called insane and everything was awful. That didn't bother Edward, though, not as much as the second problem.

The second problem was timing.

Edward had none. Never had, and that was why he spent so much time plotting when say something about it. It had to be a time when they were alone, which only happened when Ed was being briefed for a mission or submitting a field report. It had to be slipped somehow into conversation and not blurted out, and more importantly, it had to be at a time when no one else could hear.

In a small office with seven people working in it, that didn't happen often.

So he started thinking about nonverbal methods; everything he could come up with seemed to be either too slow or too much too soon. Not that he'd MIND pushing the colonel against a wall and snogging the living daylights out of him, so much as that seemed to lean too much on the 'prison-insanity-everything-becomes-awful' side of his result options.

No, what he needed was an ambiguous halfway factor. Something he could do that could be seen as either friendly or flirty, and the colonel could decide what he wanted to take it as, and how to respond. Unfortunately mapping out communication was not as easy for him as mapping out a circle, and even once he had decided on that route, Edward still found himself in a slump. To be precise, he was in a slump in the library of Central command, in the stacks, and leaning against one bookshelf with his feet against the wall. He had a stack of books on either side of him, plus one lying open and forgotten on his lap while he stared at the ceiling and tried to think of a move.

The touch of a hand wouldn't be seen as invitation to hold it without obvious context – and besides, Edward was pretty sure he wouldn't be happy with just holding the man's bloody hand like a shy fucking schoolgirl after holding out on this for so long, so that was out. What about a hug? No, men didn't hug other men, not the way you would hug a girl or the way he could hug his brother, that would be weird and could only be taken one way; he needed ambiguity. Handshake? Not really an invitation for anything other than a handshake. What about just getting inside his space bubble? Well when did he have the opportunity for that? Breifings were done across the stupid desk, as was everything else. He didn't even know where else to find him; no idea where he lived, where he went when he wasn't working – the man didn't even leave the office for lunch! And as he'd already reasoned, the office was not the best place for capturing and plundering Roy's mouth.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Edward cleared the fantasy out of his head by shaking it rapidly; if only he could shake the hot blush off his cheeks that easily.

"Back shelf, got it."

The voice made him freeze for a second before clutching his book and hastily burying his nose in it as if his previous thoughts could be read on his face if he didn't have an obvious occupation. Fortunately, he was still given an excuse to look up and enjoy the scenery

"Oh, Edward, didn't expect to see you here."

Well this answered at least in part what the colonel did on his days off. He had to be off-duty, because much as Edward would appreciate him wearing jeans and a dark dress shirt to work – it looked criminally good on his lean frame – he knew perfectly well that would never happen. Swallowing, he hoped the path of his eyes wasn't too obvious because he really couldn't help himself from eyeballing. He'd always thought the military uniform was a bit cumbersome – that was why he refused to wear it – but who could guess that casual clothes could make such a difference? It was like the confident, calm nature of his face had spread down to include his entire stance, like he was some kind of relaxed tiger or-

Edward hastily buried his face in the book again. "Hey."

"Making up for lost time?"

"H-huh?" He shouldn't have taken that second excuse to look up, as he knew perfectly well he'd start staring again, but he did it anyway, and found to his relief that the colonel wasn't even looking at him; he was so running one finger along the titles of the shelf opposite him. Had his ass always looked that good or was it just the denim?

"You lost several opportunities to stare at me since I was away for a few days this week."

It was a good thing Edward was still holding his completely-unread book; it was there to catch his jaw.

Roy glanced over his shoulder with that Smirk tugging at his lips "You thought I didn't notice?"

"W-what book are you looking for?"

"Jenson's 'Analysis of Pyrotechnics'. Some of us actually do research for our assessments."

"And by that you mean cramming at the last minute. You're looking on the wrong shelf. It's by the bottom."

The off-topic exchange did little to flush the red off of Edward's face; it didn't help much that to scan the shelf Edward had directed him to, the colonel had to fold himself down between the narrow stacks, and his scanning finger had led him to sidestep in Ed's direction; that put him close enough to not only be on a level physically with the blond alchemist, it also let the faint, dusky odour of gunpowder and smoke and cedar drift over.

Edward hoped the colonel didn't notice his breath catch. It was a wonder he could still breathe at all. After all, in such proximity and given his previous train of thought, he couldn't help wondering whether the man tasted and felt the way he sounded and smelled; like a smouldering fire.

Desperate to banish the pulse-increasing fantasies from his mind, Ed dragged his eyes to the colonel's roving finger, and glancing ahead of it his eyes locked on the sought-after title. Suddenly it occurred to him that once the skilful finger landed on that particular tome, the colonel would pull it out and stand up and say 'later, Edward.' or something like that and he'd be gone. It further occured to him that this was a bad thing; it was an opportunity lost.

But not lost quite yet; there were at least fourteen titles between the colonel's finger and the one he was looking for; no, ten, six – why'd he have to read so fast? His brain had frozen solid despite the firey man scarce two feet away from him, but this was the ideal situation; he needed a move!

There wasn't time; that finger was fast closing on the slim red volume, perhaps if he covered it up somehow so he didn't see it?

The frozen nature of his brain made the stupidity of that plan rather slow to register, and it had not yet clicked when Edward scrambled to his knees and reached out to cover the offending title. As his hand closed on it, however, he was fumbling for an excuse.

"Oh, I fou-augh!"

The bookshelf receded rapidly as he toppled backward and to the side, and landed against something solid and not-bookshelf-y.

He blinked once, and then felt the rest of his body go numb as all the blood in it rushed to his face.

" Woah, you okay?"

"F-fine" Ed wished his voice was closer to its normal tenor instead of a couple octaves above a falsetto. He coughed and reached up to grab a bookshelf as he attempted to disentangle himself from the other man and not think of how sweet it would be to have gotten that way by other methods.

"Ow! Wait a sec - you're on my hand!"

Ed raised his boot as if he'd stepped on a rattlesnake "S-sorry"

"Just hold still a sec"

The words were a lot closer than he'd expected; about three inches from his ear, as a matter of fact. Edward stayed still; in fact he was pretty sure he was stone for a second before his pulse started roaring in his ears and threatening to explode a vein under his jaw.

Since he'd fallen backward against the colonel, he couldn't see what he was doing until he felt the man shift behind him and his arms reached over Ed's shoulders to grip the bookshelves.

It was a good thing the colonel looped one of his arms under Ed's as soon as he was more or less on his feet, otherwise he would have tumbled right back to the ground; from the proximity of the colonel's breath to his ear, if nothing else.

"Up you get. You sure you're okay?"

"Huh?" As he was steadied onto his feet, Edward was dimly aware that he had been spoken to, but with the older man's hands on his shoulders and his face on a level and had his eyes always been that dark? Well, he didn't really hear much.

Roy smirked, moving one hand to brush the bangs out of Ed's eyes. "You shouldn't space out so much; I wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Taking the book that had started the tumble from Ed's hand, he turned and walked away, disappearing around the corner after only a few steps.

Edward took a second to process before he reached up and touched the side of his face where the colonel's fingers had brushed it.

So, had that been just a demeaning-you're-a-kid gesture like patting his head, or...

He clenched his automail fist at his side, sprinting toward the aisle. Idea-thief; an ambiguous move was HIS plan! But now that the ball was in his park, he saw no need to waste time planning, much less being subtle.

"Colonel!"

Roy halted, turning to look at the alchemist with one eyebrow raised. Three long strides (probably two similar steps for anyone else) got Edward caught up, and close enough to grab a handful of the front of Roy's shirt and yank him into the nearest side aisle.

Fortunately that knocked the older man off balance as much as was necessary that switching his grip to the shoulders and pushing him up against the bookshelf was easy.

It did occur briefly to Edward that he might still end up in the burns unit of the nearest hospital if his wishful thinking was tampering with his perception again, but as that thought was the last coherent thing to happen in his brain for the next several minutes, it was of little consequence.

"Christ, Ed!" Roy gasped when he finally backed off a few inches for want of air. "Haven't you heard of subtlety?"

"Considered it for a while" Edward admitted, tugging the colonel downward to bury his nose in his neck. "But this seemed like more fun."

"Heh, well, I'm not complaining, but..." Edward smiled when he felt fingers tangle themselves up in his hair as Roy shifted against him "If someone sees us we're both toast"

The blond alchemist felt like he ought to have been toast already, considering he'd spent the last few minutes breathing tasting and drinking unadulterated FIRE, but held his tongue. Straightening, he looked up, and raised one to brush aside the cool black hair hanging above his eyes.

"We'd better go someplace more private, then."

"Oh really?"

"If you think after this long waiting I'm happy just making out with you for five minutes you've got another thing coming, mister"

Roy smirked and leaned forward, and "That's the best news I've had all day." was breathed into his ear and it was a wonder Ed could un-rubber his knees enough to make it to the doors.

"You okay?" the colonel asked, eying the spacey expression on Edward's face once they were out in the sunshine.

"Oh yeah" Ed smiled, wishing away the silly heat spreading over his cheekbones, "Made of awesome."