Roy Mustang was a man of charm. He was a man of intelligence. He was a man of class. He was a very attractive, very wealthy man. He had not always been wealthy; of course he had worked hard for the money he earned. Roy was a well-respected surgeon. He had been for about seven years now. He was twenty-nine years old - going on thirty in a few months.
Bringing in a whopping 181,000 dollars a year ensured that he had a rather spacious home, yet no one to share it with. At twenty-nine years old, he should at least be engaged, should he not? Goodness knows his best friend Maes Hughes was forever urging him to get a wife. Sure, he had dated many women in his days, but never had one captured his attention for more than a day or two.
He was quite the ladies' man. It seemed like every week he would have at least two new dates lined up. They would go well, of course, as long as he pretended like he actually gave a damn about what they were saying. Almost all of them were the same. They looked classy on the outside, which was all well and dandy, but once conversation started, Roy utterly lost nearly all interest in the woman. Except for the physical interest, that is.
They were all the same. Maybe they were all clones. He had no idea. They would ask him about himself. He would say that he was a surgeon. They would always be impressed. They would agree with everything he said. Not one of them had a mind of their own. They just agreed with him for the sake of getting him to like them. When it came to their goals, they were lost. Most of the women pictured themselves being a top-rate trophy wife.
That was all they wanted. His money. Of course they all thought he was handsome; that was a plus to them. He had money, and they wanted to get their greedy, manicured claws all over it. All they wanted to do was sit around all day in his house, drinking expensive wine and using his money to buy new outfits and haircuts and such.
That was why Roy never got too close to a woman. That, and they were just plain boring. They could at least be less willing to sleep with him. He liked a bit of a challenge. He contemplated moving out of New York; maybe the women in the country would be more of a challenge. But he figured women would be women no matter where he went, so he stayed right where he was - New York City.
At the moment, he was in a club of some sort. It was rather old-timey, but he liked that. The place was classy enough, and the music was jazzy. He loved jazz music. His dates never shared that particular interest. They were into hip-hop or whatever crap twenty-one year-olds listened to these days. He was twenty-nine, but he always figured he had been born in the wrong time period.
Swing music. Big-band. Whatever you wanted to call it, Roy loved it. He snapped his fingers and tapped his foot as he stood beside the bar, watching older couples dance haphazardly. That brought a small smile to his face. He watched one particular elderly couple move to the music. It was a Kodak moment, for sure.
He paused to order a drink and then continued watching the old couple dance to "In the Mood". He felt his spirits lifting already, even without the alcohol in his system. This was his favorite place to go after a long, hard day at work. He liked his job, but sometimes it was just too stressful. He didn't really have to go very often, because the lower surgeons took care of mostly everything, but if the surgery was complicated enough, he had to go in.
He sighed as the song neared its ending. A drink was slid across the bar and stopped neatly in front of him, the contents not even spilling over the side of the glass. His midnight-blue eyes scanned the room for any eligible bachelorettes, but his search turned up nothing. He sighed again and waited for the next song to play.
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"Oh, come on, Brother. It'll be fun!" Alphonse Elric grabbed his older, yet shorter, brother's hand and pulled him into the club. Winry Rockbell, Al's fiancée, followed after the brothers, making sure that Edward Elric couldn't get away if he tried.
"Your definition of fun is completely different than mine, Al!" Ed protested, shoving his younger brother away. He tried to turn around, but ran into a smug Winry.
"You're going whether you like it or not, Ed. You haven't left the house since Moira broke up with you two months ago. You need to have some fun," Winry gave him a stern look. Ed hoped that the blonde woman hadn't brought her wrench with her. Yes, she loved to hit him over the head with a wrench when he acted up. Yes, she was crazy. Absolutely psycho.
Moira. She had dumped Ed for another man. An older man who didn't spend all his time at the library. So what if he liked to read a lot? What was wrong with that? They had only been going out for four months, but she still had hurt his feelings deeply. She had been his only semi-serious girlfriend in...ever. He had never come so close to loving someone before. He cared for her deeply. She was intelligent, pretty, and easy to get along with. But she had left him. His pride was broken.
"Come on, Brother. I know you love jazz, so I found this place with you in mind. Please enjoy yourself. If not for yourself then for me?" Al gave him the puppy eyes. Of course, the eyes hadn't actually worked on him since they were little kids, but Ed always gave in when Al made that face. But the face didn't work on Ed. Really. (Someone's in denial.)
"Fine," Ed agreed, albeit grudgingly. He would try to enjoy himself, though he knew it wasn't going to happen. His spirits were lifted on a miniscule scale when he heard Frank Sinatra's soothing voice oozing out of the speakers. That man's voice could soothe him even on the worst of days.
He recognized the song immediately. It was called "New York, New York". It wasn't his favorite, but the song was pretty good. Winry led Alphonse to the dance floor, leaving Edward feeling quite lonely. Al gave Ed an apologetic look before dashing off to the center of the floor where the couple was undoubtedly dancing horribly to music they knew nothing about.
Ed sulked, walking over to the bar with his head down and his shoulders hunched. He wanted to enjoy the evening, but he was having such a hard time getting his mind off of Moira. He glanced at all the alcohol behind the bar and smirked half-heartedly. He figured he might as well drown his sorrows in a bottle of Vodka while he was here.
He could certainly spare some money to spend on drinks. He was pretty well-off for a twenty-two year-old. He had devoted his life to researching ways to improve prosthetics in a way no one had before. He, himself, had two prosthetic limbs. His right arm looked nearly like flesh, but it wasn't. The lower half of his left leg was fake as well. His mood worsened as he remembered the terrible car accident that had cost him two of his limbs and his mother's life. He shivered at the memory and shoved it out of his mind.
He caught a glimpse of Winry and Al dancing horribly, as expected, but they seemed to be having a fantastic time. Maybe they were just putting on a show to let Ed see how happy he could be if he just lightened up. He nodded his head to himself. He could do this - he could have fun like a normal twenty-two year-old. He would show that stupid Moira (figuratively speaking; she wasn't actually at the club to be "showed at"). She couldn't ruin his life, or his love life. Yep, he would show her...as soon as he found someone to dance with. He gulped. 'Fuck,' he thought.
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Roy knew he was on the verge of getting drunk. He didn't care though. He could stay out all night if he wanted to. It wasn't as if he had a wife or family to go home to or anything. Unless you counted Hughes as a wife. That man worried about Roy enough to be considered his wife. Roy loved his best friend to death, don't get him wrong, but the man could be...overbearing sometimes. Like when he set him up with that blind date. The one who could hardly speak English. Yeah.
Roy's eyes continued to scan the room for an eligible bachelorette. They rested on a young blonde girl dancing (terribly) with a dark blond male with a ponytail. He glanced at her left hand. Wedding or engagement ring. Okay, off the market. 'Too bad. She was decent-looking,' Roy thought with mock-sadness. Oh well. There were plenty of good-looking fish in the sea, right?
He turned to his right and raised an eyebrow. There was a short blonde standing about two feet away from him, apparently scanning the room just as he had been doing a few seconds ago. From the side, it appeared to be female...just a flat-chested female. Quite attractive though. She had a cute ponytail. Roy looked at the blonde's left hand to see no ring. He smirked.
He walked nonchalantly over to where the blonde stood, tapping her foot to the beat of the ending song. A new song began to play. Another Frank Sinatra song. "Strangers in the Night" it was called. Roy's smirk grew. Perfect.
"Excuse me, but I couldn't help noticing that you don't have a partner with you," Roy started off in a smooth voice, silently praising himself for his suaveness. "May I have this dance?" He held out a hand to her, wanting to chuckle at her bewildered expression.
"Uh.... Sorry. I'm...not...gay," the (surprise!) guy said, slowly. Roy barely kept the shock from showing on his face. He decided to play it off, pretending like he had actually meant to ask a man to dance. It would have been insulting to the other man if he had said "oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were a woman". He coughed into his other hand, blushing ever so slightly.
"Oh.... Pardon me," Roy excused himself and walked over to the exit as quickly as he could without running. He heard hurried footsteps coming after him, but he made no sign to show that he had, indeed, heard.
"No, wait! Stop!" The short blond chased him rather easily. Roy opened the door anyway and walked out of the club. The blond guy followed. Deciding that the shorter man would not give up, Roy stood by the door and waited for the other to speak.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," the blond panted very slightly, putting his hands on his hips. "I guess I was just a little taken aback." He eyed Roy warily.
"No, no. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Roy was still pretty embarrassed. He wouldn't have even been this embarrassed if the guy had said yes to his offer. No, the guy just had to reject him. That was a moderate hit on his pride.
"Well, I didn't have to be such a dick about it," the blond countered, smiling a little.
"Well...yeah, you're right," Roy agreed, jokingly. This earned a glare from the shorter man.
"I'm Edward Elric," Ed stuck out his left hand. Roy found this interesting, but he made no comment about it.
"Roy Mustang," Roy shook Ed's hand with his own left hand.
Ed looked up at the dark, cloudy sky. Roy, instead of following the blond's gaze, took this opportunity to observe the shorter, and obviously younger male beside him. Golden bangs framed his face while a matching golden ponytail shone in the dim light provided by the neon sign above. He had handsome facial features. And the most dazzling amber eyes....
"Some night, eh?" Ed stated, still looking up at the night sky.
"Yeah," Roy murmured in agreement, still looking at his new acquaintance with fascination. "Some night."
Ed caught his gaze and grinned.
"Well, my brother and his fiancée are in there probably wondering where I am," Ed pointedly averted his gaze, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. Roy nearly smiled. Edward felt bad about leaving him. How cute.
"Oh, alright. Yeah, I'd better get back home. I've got to get up early. It was nice meeting you, Edward," Roy stuck his left hand out, remembering Ed's odd preference.
"You too, Roy," Ed shook the hand with a firm grip, pumping it twice. The blond gave him an apologetic smile and turned his back to the older man, his prosthetic hand on the door handle.
"And if you ever change your mind about that dance, I'll be here again on Friday night!" Roy called over his shoulder, giving a low chuckle. Ed grinned, although he knew Roy couldn't see it.
"I'll think about it!" The younger male called back before heading inside of the club once more.