Rating: Eventual NC-17.
Warnings: Mpreg, (as in a pregnant man…duh) language, and eventual sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. You know who it belongs to.
A/N: Nine months later I have revamped chapter one (trust me, it's better now XD) and here you have it!
Roy paid no mind to Ed as he rolled out of bed and plodded heavy-footed to the half-bath extension across the room. He simply glanced at the clock, saw that it was still an hour until he had to be up and attempted to get comfortable again. It wasn't until he was just beginning to drift out of consciousness that he heard Ed call his name, so softly at first that he thought it came from the verge of a dream. Soon enough, though, it was plenty loud and he lifted his head from the cushion of his pillow. "What?" He asked, barely loud enough to be heard, his voice still coarse with sleep.
"Come here!" Roy sighed and rubbed his face, what could Ed possibly want with him in the bathroom of all places? Nonetheless, he shifted out of the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and laying warm feet on an icy hardwood floor. He stretched tiredly, bones cracked accordingly and he groaned, making his way to the bathroom with the thought that he was much too old to be up at five in the morning. He rapped the door gently with a single knuckle.
"What is it, Ed?"
The replying voice was a little wary and far away but told him to come in.
He turned the knob and stepped inside, blinded momentarily by the harshness of the fluorescent light. Edward knelt, slumping over the toilet bowl a sheen of sweat on his exposed skin, his hair stuck matted tendrils to his shoulders, and he appeared unusually pale. The sleep blinked easily from Roy's eyes at the sight.
"What's wrong?" He set a hand on Ed's sticky shoulder and eyed him with concern.
"I'm leaving my guts in the toilet, what do you think?" Ed growled irritably before he sighed and the aggravation lost some effect drowned in exhaustion. "Dehydrated," he grumbled. "Get me some water, if I move the only thing I have left to lose are my intestines." Nodding, Roy squeezed his slender shoulder gently, willing even to forgive his impoliteness in the current situation.
"Just a second," they'd been together for years now, and Roy had been sending Edward on missions that dragged him into perils most wouldn't have survived for years longer, but seeing him sick and miserable pulled at his heart strings like nothing else.
As quickly as he could manage without flat out running he snatched a used cup from their bedside table and scurried back to the bathroom. Still, he didn't make it back before Edward started up again; luckily he was wrong about his intestines.
Roy dropped to his knees, and set a soothing hand on Ed's back while quickly sweeping the knotted hair back from his face. When he appeared finished, Roy flushed the toilet and stood to get him his water. "I think I'm done now," Ed groused, reaching for the hand towel over the side of the sink to wipe his mouth.
"Here," Roy replaced the towel with the glass he'd filled. "How do you feel?"
"Bloody tired." Once he touched the glass to his lips his eyes lit up like a starving man with a rack of ribs and he drank deeply. When the glass was little more than half empty Roy tipped it back down.
"Drink too much too fast you'll just make yourself sick again," he warned, helping Ed to his feet. "Let's get you back to bed."
"I'm just a kinda sick you don't have to baby me," Edward complained but leaned against Roy's side where he'd ducked beneath the older man's outstretched arm.
"I won't wake you in the morning, well actually that's only about an hour away, but still you can sleep. I'll tell Lt. Hawkeye that you're sick and maybe she won't kill us both."
"Yeah." They chuckled together as Edward lowed himself wearily onto the bed. "I know it isn't for long but come lay down with me. He sounded oddly meek, around a question that in general was much sweeter that Roy was used to from his younger lover. Still, he nodded and climbed in next to Ed. He buried his blonde head in the General's chest and Roy curled an arm around him.
"Would you like me to stay home?"
"No, 'S okay," he mumbled, "If I'm sick someone's gotta bring home the bacon." Roy laughed and kissed the top of his head.
"Yeah, but don't think you can always get rid of me so easily."
-0-
General Mustang shrugged off his coat with a yawn. He had managed to slip out of bed unnoticed and take his morning shower, mostly because he hadn't managed to settle back in enough to fall asleep. Ed had been restless at his side, giving him (more than likely) unnecessary reason to worry.
With no real hurry he hung his coat in the closet, waiting for Lieutenant Hawkeye to knock at the door with a pleasant "Good morning, sir," and "Do you know where Major Elric is?"
It came right on queue and Roy told her to come in. "Good morning, sir." She said, clicking the door shut behind herself.
"Good morning," he saw himself to his plush office chair, stifling another yawn.
"Do you know if Major Elric will be in today? He's already later than usual." Well, he had been close.
"No, he won't be." Roy snatched up his pen and began rolling it between his fingers, an anxious gesture only a few people would probably ever see him do because of the weakness it showed. "He's sick."
"Sick how?" Riza asked disbelievingly; between the two of them the head-cold excuse had been used to death. He shook his head.
"It's not what you think. A stomach flu, he woke me up with it at five o'clock this morning." More intuitive than most, she caught his concern with sensitive eyes and nodded instead of arguing further. She could be a hard-ass but it was nice to have a hard-ass that knew when enough was enough.
"Alright, please send him my best. Would you like some coffee?"
"More than you could possibly imagine," another sharp nod and she hurried from the room with a salute. Sighing, Roy leaned back in his chair still twiddling the writing utensil aimlessly. Paperwork still littered his desk, previous nights' work and he knew more was soon to come.
Lt. Hawkeye returned with what he'd expected and a Styrofoam mug of steaming life, which he downed quickly along with about six more throughout the day, and another teetering stack of things to be signed. Nothing was unusual about the day except he didn't have the occasional make-out session with Edward or the playful, foreplay-like arguments. Besides that, he placed his signature on meaningless papers, read dull reports, answered phones and complained to anyone who would listen. When he answered a ring to the familiar voice of his lover at a little after three o'clock he was surprised –pleasantly so. "Hello, Edward, how are you feeling?"
"Better actually."
"That's good to hear. How late did you sleep?" Roy pushed aside his current task and switched the phone from its precarious perch between his shoulder and ear to his hand.
"'Bout noon," Edward heaved a loud breath like he wished he'd slept longer. "I need you to do me a favor."
"What's that?"
"You know, where I ask you to do something and you do it just because you love me, stupid." Roy rolled his eyes as though Ed could somehow see it through the phone line.
"I know what a favor is. What do you need?"
"I need a jar of pickles and strawberry shortcake ice cream."
"Sec," Roy held the phone out at arm's length to examine it closely for faults before bringing it back to his ear. "Excuse me?"
"I said I need a jar of pickles and strawberry shortcake ice cream," he said bluntly, like it was the most obvious and normal thing on the planet, "oh, and a bottle of soy sauce."
"Edward, just this morning you threw up everything but your actual stomach," Roy replied, reminding his eyebrows that they belonged above his eyes and not furrowed into them. "And now you want ice cream, pickles and soy sauce?"
"Yes, I know. You will get it for me, won't you?"
"When do you want this?"
"Now, if I wanted it later I would have called later."
"It's the middle of the day, Ed! I'm at work. Anyway if you're feeling so much better couldn't you walk to the grocer and get it yourself?"
"Fine! I'll just do it myself and you can sleep on the porch, you son of a bitch!" The words were shouted in a tone that would usually have Roy furious but confusion won out over anger, and the question what the hell?
"What are you talking about?" He asked incredulously.
"You don't love me," Ed sniffed as though he was crying, it was sealed with a quiet sob. "Do you?"
"Please don't cry," Roy pleaded instinctively, wracking his brain for an answer. Ed sobbed again.
"You're a jerk," he complained quietly.
"Yes, of course I am." Roy picked up the phone base and held it as far behind him as he could manage in order to reach the door and gesture calmly for Hawkeye to join him in the office. Ed's breathing hitched wretchedly.
"I'm sorry to be so inconvenient, I wouldn't blame you if you," he sniffled again, the general almost heard the fresh cascade of tears, "if you hated me."
"Ed don't be ridiculous, I love you." Roy was walking back to his desk, motioning for Riza to close the door. He didn't really want her to hear him be gushy to Ed –hell, sometimes he didn't even want Ed to hear him gush- but he knew she'd understand but he needed a bit of advice and he couldn't hang up the phone while Ed was crying.
"Really?"
"Yes, really, Edward. Please don't cry anymore." The hint of hysterical desperation in his voice almost made him want to laugh, almost. Dealing with a crying woman was hard enough, dealing with an irrational, crying Edward was a nightmare come to life.
"I'm trying not to," Ed whined, obviously making the effort with deep, steadying breaths. Lt. Hawkeye watched with raised, knitted brows. Roy set the cradle down and shrugged helplessly in her direction.
"Good. Sweet or dill pickles?"
"Uhm, dill please." Now he just sounded timid and regretful, also completely out of his character niche.
"Of course, no problem. Will you be okay until I get home?"
"Uh-huh, I love you, Roy."
"I love you, too." He sighed a breath of relief as Ed said 'okay' and the receiver clicked in his ear.
"Sir?" Riza asked softly.
"What," he started, still on the verge of laughter, "does it mean when he's sick in the morning, wants pickles and ice cream in the afternoon, and cries because I told him I have to work?" His coat was still hanging placidly in the closet where he'd left it and he reached for it. "By the way, I have to go home at least for a while."
She nodded as he slipped into his sleeves, making no complaint about his leaving. "Can you explain a little more clearly?" Roy ran his hand back through his hair and replied to her request, relaying the events and conversation sometime through he suggested they work towards the parking lot.
When he'd finished she told him, "Stress. Well stress could explain the nausea and moodiness, though it doesn't explain the food but you could just say that's because he's Edward."
"That's true," Roy slid his key into the door lock. "But what would he be stressed over?" She pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"I don't know, and it's odd that you don't. You could ask Alphonse, if anyone would know he would."
"I'm sure he would," he slipped in behind the steering column. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
"I'll have someone drop off your work sometime tonight." Her salute was brisk and professional but there was a small smile on her lips. "Take care of Edward, sir."
"Always do," he said and pulled from the lot.
-(0)-
He opened the door slowly, cautiously as though he was expecting an explosion or something. When nothing happened he swung the door the rest of the way open and called his lover's name, setting the plastic beg next to his feet. "I'm h-."
"-ome, I see that." Edward tromped up to him; a loose braid slithered over his honey shoulder. His eyes still looked a little red from crying but other than that he seemed alright with Roy's pajama pants cinched tight around his waist. Roy was still removing his jacket when Ed's arms snaked around his neck and he had to stoop his shoulders in order to reach the man's demanding lips. Edward kissed him long and hard, his mouth hot and helping to put Roy's mind back to ease. His hair smelled clean and fresh and his skin salty.
"Thanks for shopping." He licked left over saliva from his lips and snatched up the grocery sack, bumping his hip playfully to Roy's before leaving the entryway. Shaking his head, Roy finished ridding himself of his outerwear and made to find Ed in the most obvious place.
"Fuck," Edward cursed under his breath, so low Roy almost didn't hear him. He stood on the very tips of his toes, reaching desperately for a heavy mixing bowl above the sink. It was still a little strange, the way Roy forgot to smirk as he stepped up behind the small man and curved an arm around his slim waist before pulling down the item he wanted. Ed glared daggers at him but accepted what was offered and tried to tug himself away from Roy's grasp. Roy didn't let him.
"Look, I'm sorry I made you cry." He bent to kiss the top of Ed's golden head. "I feel terrible about it." His lover hugged the bowl to his body and rocked gently in Roy's arms.
"Yeah, I'm not sure why that happened, it was just all the sudden," he frowned; on him it was pretty damned cute. "Don't feel too bad about it. Consider yourself forgiven."
"Glad to hear it," Roy squeezed him in the semblance of a hug then allowed him to move off.
Edward set the overly large glass bowl on the counter top, turning to snag he groceries from the table. "What exactly are you going to do with that?" Roy asked, seating himself at the table to watch Ed.
"I'm going to eat it, it is food right?" The silverware drawer opened smoothly and he pulled out a butter knife, for what Roy hadn't figured.
"Together?"
"Uh-huh," plastic rattled as he retrieved the half-gallon of premium strawberry shortcake ice cream and peeled off the seal before prying the lid back with what little fingernails he had. He upended it over the bowl. A small dribble was all that leaked out leading him to grab the butter knife and run it along the sides of the container to break the suction. With a wet squelch the contents began to slide from the cardboard in a pink and white cylinder. Eventually it dropped into the bowl all at once, splattering little bits of frozen desert everywhere; including Ed's surprised face making Roy bite back a comment about patience. Still, the small chuckle he couldn't help got him barked at and forced into slicing nearly a half jar of pickles.
Ed scraped all of the…ingredients into the bowl, including a third of a jar of soy sauce and mashed it together with the back of a wide, heavy spoon. The outcome: a foul looking mess that he stuck a somewhat smaller spoon into a moment later and shoved into his waiting mouth.
As he chewed the first bite he let out a groan so near orgasmic it actually worked to turn Roy on a bit. He cleared his throat rather pointedly, "Ed, that's disgusting." In response, he merited only a shrug and the 'pleasure'' of watching Ed stuff his mouth again. The two chatted lightly between sloppy bites and a nice, relaxing shot of whisky and water (that last bit for Roy only).
Roy decided if necessary he would call Alphonse the next day, but for now he would just enjoy the extra time with his lover.