Hullo, guys.
I've got a little Oneshot here for ya'll. It kinda came together over many, many days of horrible writer's block. Literally, some days only a paragraph was added in.
I am most sorry to say that this is really nothing impressive. It is not innovative or original in any way, shape, or form. It really is just a product of my wanting to write some fluff and Ed in the rain. Seriously. Maybe the next one will be better.
Still, though, reviews are welcome! ;D
DISCLAIMER: I don't own FMA.
It was raining.
Of course it was raining. The water came tumbling down like it had for the past week, saturating the already super-saturated ground. It collected in massive puddles that were soon to be likened to small lakes and it dripped from every corner and crevice. The air stayed at a steady chill, but refused to dip down to freezing temperatures. At least if it would, the ice would be a little dryer.
But no, Ed thought miserably as he walked, soaked and cold down into his bones, it had to continue on just raining. His black boots stepped down a good few inches in a watery gray mass. His socks inside them had long since been completely wet, just like the rest of his clothes. He was cold. He wanted to get back to his apartment.
On top of that, he was irritated with himself. For one, he had forgotten an umbrella on his way out of Central HQ. Of course, he had stormed out because of a certain Brigadier-General, but still… And that led him to the other reason he was irritated.
He had stood in Mustang's office in his usual demeanor, defiant and ready to fire off any number of insults at his superior. As usual, the man had taken a glace over his report and had suited up to do verbal battle with Ed and then…
He wasn't quite sure what had happened then. There was a moment when Roy looked up from his desk and then… then his eyes had locked with these dark pools of onyx. And Ed could only stare at the fire he had found there. Unrestrained fire, leaking out from a perfect mask, giving him a glimpse of something true, something real. Something Ed both wanted to read into and ignore.
Quite honestly, the onslaught of sparks from his midsection had caught him off guard. His body's reaction to Roy's gaze startled him.
It had been odd. It was something he had not felt for a long while and it was… pleasant in a weird way. Ed had stood and let the undercurrent run through him and missed the first bit of the lecture Mustang had, no doubted, leapt into as he fought to pretend Ed hadn't caught… whatever that was. He refused to give it a name, refused to hope that maybe the Brigadier-General had maybe, just maybe, shown him an etching of passion, a mural of answer to a repressed want Ed had found almost exactly a year ago.
He had thought he had taken care of that problem, seeking every possible answer to it to push it away. Wanting the womanizer of Central? The CO who continuously managed to piss him off every time they met in any kind of environment? No. It was deemed unacceptable by him long ago, let alone the morals of the military and society in general. Pushing down any temptation or urge had become second-nature months ago, and for a while, the blonde had thought he had gotten off scott-free. He didn't need anybody, especially not Mustang.
With this new development, however, this appeared not to be so, and now many nights of frustration, mornings with cold showers, and careful distractive alchemical research had been tossed out the window, and all because of a single glance. Mentally, Ed cursed. The man on the other side of the desk would eventually be the end of him, one way or another.
"Fullmetal. Fullmetal." Roy had barked at him. Ed had snapped out of his thoughts and stared at officer in horror. He stood there for a minute, looking incredibly stupid in his silence as Mustang placed him under tight scrutiny. This time, his face had been tightly guarded, heavily set in a stone mask. Like always.
"Bastard…" Ed had muttered and turned on his heel. He wasn't going to stay. He had done his job, handed in his report, and he was tired. He couldn't allow himself to stay and damage even more his carefully-lain wall of restraint. "I'm going home. I don't want to deal with this."
"Edward," the Brigadier-General had called in return. Ed trained his golden eyes on him once more as he turned his head and paused, one hand on the door. The raven was silent for half a minute, once more returning to his piercing, reading look. Ed had scowled.
"What?" he had demanded. He just wanted to… he wanted to leave. He felt turmoil, he felt angry, but most of all, he felt confused. Edward Elric did not get confused. Especially when the answer should have been so painstakingly obvious. How had the bastard done it? With only one look? When Mustang continued to remain silent, the blonde had walked out, taking care to slam the door behind him so hard, the walls had rattled.
Edward continued to walk, suppressing a violent shiver as he went. The sooner he got home and out of this downpour, the better. His automail was becoming frigid, and he took care to keep his arm a good few inches away from the rest of his body. Oh, his ports were going to ache from the cold…
It was a numbing sound, the rain. The pitter-patter of the drops had long since ceased to be an individual sound and had combined to become a rushing roar that managed to drown out even his footfalls. Ed chose to concentrate on the sound rather than to concentrate on the thoughts rushing through his head. It was easier that way, though it made the walk seem longer.
The blonde continued to move, mind deaf, until he tripped on a bump in the sidewalk. Falling snapped him out of his daze, though it was too late to try and catch himself with his hands. Ed fell flat on his face, effectively scraping it and a few other things, like his knee. Quickly, he sat back up, taking inventory of his surroundings.
Nobody in sight. Good, nobody had seen him do it.
Blood welled from his scrapes, oozing from his pant leg and slipping down his face from his forehead to mix with the water below. Crimson on gray, swirling and spreading until the puddle was overtaken by the warmer color. It was amazing how just a little blood could overcome the whole puddle, changing it forever…
Ed stood once more, sighing and wincing at the sting of his forehead. Did he even have bandages at home? He wasn't sure, but getting there first seemed to be imperative. He was more than accustomed to head wounds, and this one was, by comparison, very minor, but it still needed to be taken care of. He took a step forward only to hesitate when he heard somebody from behind him through the rain.
"Fullmetal!"
Who- oh. Ed turned and saw Mustang run up, his uniform partly wet from the bits of him that had come out from under the small black umbrella he held. He stared at Ed, his chest heaving just a little from lack of air. Ed, in turn, stared back, eyes narrowing and ready to combat anything the older man had to say.
"Your head. What did you do?" Whatever Ed had been expecting, it wasn't that. Like the fire-filled gaze he had caught earlier from under Roy's mask, the question had caught him off-guard.
"Tripped," Ed shrugged, "Nothin' big."
Roy continued to look at him, eyes flicking over his soaked frame critically, like Ed's explanation hadn't been enough to prove he was fine. "You're wet," he declared after a short while.
"No shit. It's raining." Ed shuffled uncomfortably under the brigadier-general's gaze. What was with him and staring at Ed today? Was it Try to Drill Holes into Your Subordinate day?
"You rushed out so quickly that you didn't even bother to grab an umbrella," Mustang said plainly, "I figured as much. You're going to end up sick."
"So you followed me out here?" Ed asked, incredulous, "Because you knew I would?"
"No," Roy admitted, "I followed you because I wanted to know why you rushed out of my office."
Edward bristled. "Too bad. I'm sayin' nothin'."
Roy sighed. "The least you can do, then, is get yourself out of the rain. This umbrella isn't big enough for the two of us, but my house isn't far."
Ed was silent, cautious about how he placed his gaze on the brigadier-general. "Why?"
Roy arched an eyebrow. "Why do I not want my subordinate to die of pneumonia?"
"No, you jackass. Why are you being nice? What do you want?"
Roy smirked lightly. "I already told you what I want. Besides, it's more of a kindness to myself than to you. If you die, that's a ton of paperwork that I don't want to do. The piles would probably tower over your shrimp coffin."
"You fucking bastard," Ed spat, "Lazy-ass, self-absorbed, man-whore. Wouldn't want to inconvenience you with my death, would I?" There was less venom in his words than he would have liked to admit, and Roy didn't seem fazed at all by them.
"Come on then, Fullmetal."
Roy took up the lead, turning down a street and walking up a few houses, Ed trailing behind him. A couple of times, the blonde blinked away unwelcome thoughts about the rather nice shape of the older man's back or the odd sexiness of his damp hair.
Oh no, no, no… Not again. It would take forever to get himself to back away from this again, to get himself grounded enough so that he did not float away on fantasies once more. Ed mentally grimaced. It looked like he would have to re-acquaint himself with the cold shower before long.
"Come in," Roy motioned, standing at a door he had apparently just unlocked. Ed hadn't even noticed that they had walked up to a house at all – and what a house it was. The womanizer before him seemed to spare no expense when it came to his choice of home, because it was much larger than Ed had ever thought would be fit for a single man. It was more suited for a family, really… The blonde passed by the raven without sparing a glance at the older man.
Inside, it was a little dark with a fire in a room off to the left beginning to glow brighter. It was a little warmer, and it seemed comfortable enough. The entry room had nothing but a coat rack and tile floors, but the livingroom Roy guided him into after they had both removed their shoes and coats (and Roy had done up his umbrella) was a bit more lavish. The fire seemed to grow at Roy's presence, crackling happily as the man himself stood in the middle of the room. Around him, bookshelves covered the walls and every last one of the shelves were filled with tomes. Two large couches sat adjacent to one another, with a large, dark coffee table between them.
Taking notice of his wet condition, Ed clapped his hands softly and pictured a drying array. Best not to get the bastard's furniture wet – he'd never hear the end of it. Touching his clothes brought warmth to him as the water inside his shirt and pants and socks became hot enough to evaporate. Making sure to stem off the extra heat when it became too much, Ed relaxed a little visibly. He was warm and not even a little damp anymore, save his hair. He turned to Mustang, who was staring him down now from in front of the fire. Ed took determined steps forward to the man, taking care to keep his eyes from lingering anywhere on him and ensuring his thoughts stayed on the array.
A clap, a gasp, hands on the brigadier-general's chest for a moment, and the ensuing warmth.
Edward chose to keep his sight trained on his hands, and keep his distance from the other man's body. However, when he chose to remove his hands from the broad, flat chest they rested on, the command didn't quite make it through. The array and its effects were long-gone because they had only lasted a mere few seconds, but Ed's hands stayed. And Ed refused to look up to see what awaited him on his superior's face.
"Thank you, Fullmetal…" Mustang murmured, his voice low and unreadable. What was the man hiding behind his tone? Was it visible in his eyes? Ed chanced a look up to meet those pools of fire, burning once more. There it was, that… that passion, right there, hidden in plain sight. His face never changed – everything he wanted to say was in his gaze, and Ed only had to read the code.
The older alchemist took a step backwards, effectively breaking the physical contact between the two before he turned towards the kitchen. "Did you want something to drink? Maybe coffee?"
Ed mentally slapped himself for making it be Mustang who stepped away. Really, why would he even want to touch the bastard in the first place? And no, he shoved down the answer the pit of his stomach tried to give, he wasn't attracted to him at all, remember? Avoidance, avoidance, avoidance. The pining and the need and yes, even that little bit of turmoil was worth it in the end. Because if Ed were to explore his… feelings… he would be left open for the older man to tear apart, like a carcass left out for the hyena to descend upon. To bare himself to Mustang would mean certain death, by fire or otherwise. Because Ed had to face it: Roy Mustang was a womanizer and a bastard, and he would never amount to more except maybe Fuhrer. There was a nice bit of irony to that.
But, he felt a small part of himself whisper, that look…
"Edward, honestly, it is not that hard of a question. Do you want coffee?" The brigadier-general's voice finally broke through his thoughts and Ed visibly puffed in annoyance.
"Yes, coffee. No milk or cream, just black."
He watched as the taller man nodded and turned into the kitchen, leaving the blonde alone once more. With a sigh, he flopped onto the nearby couch, sprawling luxuriously. He might as well get comfortable. Roy – er, Mustang's house or no, Ed wasn't going to forgo comfort for formality, especially when this particular visit would end up testing his will like he knew it would.
Mustang walked back into the livingroom a good few minutes later, a steaming navy-blue mug in each gloved hand. Ed watched as the man sat carefully, offering Ed his mug at the same time. He took his own with his automail hand, being careful not to look the other man dead in the eyes again. Carefully, he raised the mug up to his mouth, blowing softly to cool his first gulp and closing his eyes as he savored the bitter warmth. Salvation. Maybe he could go through the whole visit with his eyes shut, just like this, pretending to worship the liquid gold inside his cup.
It was silent for what felt like a very long time. The only audible sounds came from the everlasting patter of the rain on the roof and ground outside and the occasional warm crackle from the fire. Ed was content to leave the sound at that, but his host and, consequently, his companion had other plans.
"So..?"
"So what?" Ed found himself snapping. He already knew what Mustang was going to ask. It was the same question he had before.
"Why did you storm out of my office?" Right on target.
"I told you. I'm not sayin' anything."
Roy leaned forward, placing a hand under his chin as he watched Ed carefully. Ed stiffened under the warm gaze. It was pleasant, but it was expecting and Ed was not willing to give in. "Did I somehow scare you?" The smirk was palpable.
"Don't make me laugh. What reason would I have to fear you?" Ed scoffed. "Woo, you can make fire by snapping your fingers – big deal. I can blow up your house by clapping. We're fairly even when it comes to destructive power, and if anybody has an advantage here, it's me."
"I don't mean like that, Edward."
What? What? What was that flash in his eyes? Some knowing glance, some flare of mischief? Ed focused on Roy's face, frowning as he tried to read the flickers of emotion there. Was that satisfaction? Was that confusion? Was that l-… lust?
The blonde swallowed harshly. "I've done human transmutation and seen chimaeras with twice the ferocity of a serial killer. There is nothing you could do that would scare me, Mustang."
"Is that so?" the Flame alchemist's smirk grew, evolving into something mischievous and even playful. Mustang, playful? Ed considered getting his head checked. Maybe he had hit it too hard. The initial wound itself was merely a scrape and had long since stopped bleeding, and the rain had even served to clean it up some, but maybe the damage went deeper than the skin? In confusion, his hand slipped up to his face, checking for bruising or any evidence his skull had been cracked. Unfortunately for his sanity, he found nothing of the sort.
Roy stood suddenly, causing Edward to snap out of his thoughts once more. The blonde watched as the raven took a long, hard look at him and then moved towards his side of the table. What on Amestris was the other man doing? Ed blinked and suddenly the other man was beside him on the couch, his face looming very close and his hand on Ed's forehead, having brushed aside Ed's own appendage in favor of his.
"Does it hurt much? I'd forgotten about that." Ed's breath hitched at the unhidden concern in those words. It was real. It was all real…
"No," Ed mumbled, his words thick, "I just was looking to see if I'd cracked my head or somethin'."
An eyebrow raised over an eye that still spilled concern. "'Cracked your head'? Why would you think that?"
With nothing to do with his eyes, Ed closed them briefly before opening them again to catch the other man's pools of onyx once more. He was somewhat captivated by them. They were most certainly complex, because in this light there was more than just the stark black that they normally boasted. Mustang's eyes had flecks of midnight blues, ranging from dark as pitch to navy in the irises. His mind distracted, his answer tumbled out , "B'cuz you're acting weird."
"Weird, huh? Well, tell me: is this weird?" And then Ed registered lips on his own and his eyes went wide in shock. The kiss was brief, chaste, and made Ed's mind whirl. What did this mean? Did it really even matter anymore? Roy returned his hidden wants, didn't he? All the while, the dark-haired alchemist sat back a little, a smirk once more plastered to his face.
"I'm waiting for an answer." Ed stared at the man before him, seemingly debating before something clicked and he gave in. Fuck all the avoidance; if he could get what he wanted, he would play the game. All he could do was hope that it would last for longer than one night; that all his suffering would amount to something more than some casual fling or one-night-stand. The blonde put a hand to Roy's chest, pushing him back into the couch as Ed assaulted him in a rough, needy kiss.
He was aware of Roy's hands moving up his sides, one slipping under his shirt and the other staying out in favor of pushing his back down closer. Shivers graced his frame as Roy's hand slid farther up, feather-light and exploratory. Roy's tongue licked along Ed's lip and he opened his mouth in a gasp, only to have Roy invade him, his own tongue quite enjoying the feel of it. An automail fist balled the shirt it held captive while a flesh one ghosted its way down, down, down to see if Roy matched Ed in how he was feeling.
A growing bulge and the hitch in Roy's throat said "yes." A meaningful thrust and grind upwards accented it, whilst the moans from both men defined just how much of a yes it was.
For the record, it was a "hell yes."
Ed pulled away, gasping and panting and watching the fire flicker in Roy's heated gaze. The passion was real – it had been real all along. He wasn't the only one who had locked himself away in agony, though he may have been doing so the longest. Now it didn't matter. Now it was time to make up for all that lost time. "No," he said, licking his already-swollen lips, "it is right. What is weird is how long it took you, dumbass."
So, yeah. Like I said, not my best. Still, I'd love you forever if you reviewed!
