The ever-so-lovely Moo-chan made a bet that I couldn't write a kawaii (Cute) RoyxEd, since that's my favorite angst pairing of all time. I retaliated with this. It's a two-shot, 'cause it's too long for a one-shot, and I'm super nervous about posting it here, since part two contains some serious yaoi content. It's rated M for a reason, so read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of its characters. I make no money from doing this: I do it simply because I like it.

It was stupid, reckless, he knew that. Bitch of it all was that he didn't care, not even in the slightest. All that mattered to him was that if he succeeded... Alright, he wasn't expecting to succeed. He wasn't expecting anything but that Gate to drag him inside its eternal void for attempting the forbidden, end the misery that had engulfed him for over two years, and maybe he'd see him again. Was it really so much to ask?

Once the fire had burned itself into a useless pile of ash and thrown him into darkness, he had picked up a piece of chalk, the one that lay beside the box of matches he kept on the small, wooden coffee table at all times, and retreated to the basement of the cabin he had adopted, heart pounding in his chest. The transmutation circle that poured from his fingers had drained his strength; delicate patterns covering the walls and floor and grinding his chalk into dust. Only when the sun had begun to rise, melting the snow that always seemed to congregate outside his door, did he decide he was finished.

He closed his remaining eye, grimacing as he felt the scarring upon his other, against the patch he refused to even sleep without, and rested his bare hands in the middle of the circle. The light that erupted from his fingertips was blinding in its golden hue, filling the entirety of the small room and blasting him several feet backwards, where he collapsed on his side, terrified that he had failed. His hands, which were still clawing at the circle were covered in intricate tattoos, painfully dark against his pallid flesh, and radiating a vicious warmth that forced him to grit his teeth in pain.

They hadn't faded, and Roy was certain they wouldn't. Even now, as he lay in the most uncomfortable bed he had ever had the misfortune to occupy, his arms wrapped around a sobbing blond teenager, they burned in bright contrast to his flesh: a reminder that he had dealt with the Gate of Truth, and was not to take his survival lightly. His eye was closed again, fingers trailing through a golden ponytail, and he could feel a pair of hands clutching at his torn shirt like they would never let go.

He hadn't spoken, not since he had appeared in Roy's basement shivering with fear and confusion, so when something that wasn't a sob finally escaped his lips, the elder man was more than surprised. "What were you thinking?" he whispered. "Wh-what the Hell were you thinking?!"

He had grown up a lot since the Brigadier General had last seen him. He was taller, facial features more angular and defined, and for once in his life, he wasn't ashamed to be crying into the chest of his superior, to show the weakness that he had been denying for as long as he could recall. Stunned into a moment of silence and unsure how to reassure him, Roy simply continued to stroke his long hair, admiring how it flowed through his fingers, how he had longed to be so close to him since the day he had disappeared. He finally had what he wanted, but it was a hollow victory.

"Why?" he choked out, looking up sharply to meet the soft onyx gaze.

Roy hung his head, desperately looking anywhere but into those haunting eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. But I..." he bit his lip. "I knew you were out there, somewhere. I had to try."

"You could've killed yourself!" Edward screamed, startling one of the nurses from the other side of the glass door. He didn't seem to have noticed, however, as he continued, "Damnit, Mustang! You know it's forbidden! You know what happened to me!"

"Of course I do," he murmured, sliding his hand across his automail shoulder, and earning a shiver despite how he knew he felt nothing. "But...if I could see you...just one more time, I..."

His words caught in his throat, and nothing could force them out. Edward was looking at him, golden eyes glistening with tears, and making them look even more beautiful than he remembered. The faintest hint of curiosity flickered beneath them, like he was a transmutation he just couldn't figure out. His emotions were too raw, too overwhelming. He didn't know how to tell him that he meant everything to him, that he...

Edward straightened up, his eyes still fixed upon Roy's, despite how the elder man was doing everything in his power to stare at anything but the teenager still curled on his lap. Edward's eyes softened. He leaned closer, his flesh fingers gently teasing at his jaw, tracing the bone and moving to cup his cheek. He turned his head slowly, giving the man no choice but to look at him.

"You're such a fool."

He looked sympathetic, despairing. His voice was so soft that Roy barely heard it, but he still closed his eye in shame, the guilty pit in his stomach clenching uncomfortably. Edward knew exactly how to make him feel like an idiot. He had hardly moved when Edward tilted his head once again, their gazes colliding, and he leaned forward to gently press his lips to his.

He tensed instinctively, even his injured eye flickering in shock, but that didn't stop him from slipping his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and returning the kiss with the urgency that had been plaguing him for two years. Edward smiled faintly against his lips, and he pulled away, fingers still delicately tracing his high cheekbone, and as Roy glanced sideways at them, he flushed scarlet.

He shook his head slightly, and Edward immediately retracted his hand, biting at his lower lip like he wasn't certain he should have done that. He looked up suspiciously towards the door where he knew the nurses to be, and his shoulders sank in relief as he realized none of them were watching. He turned back to Roy, and was surprised to find a crooked sort of smile playing about his lips.

He swallowed hard, his cheeks flooding with color. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled. "I was just...It's been a long-"

"I thought I was the one apologizing?" Roy interjected softy, his smile not faltering. With the hand still trailing through Edward's hair, he slipped the band from it, and watched at the golden locks fell about his thin shoulders. "If there's anyone who has something to be sorry for, it's me."

Raking a self-conscious hand through his hair, Edward stared at the wall, and tried to act casual as he whispered, "Why'd you do it?"

"Edward," he shook his head in desperation, taking both of the teen's hands in his, and shivering at the cool feel of the automail against his skin. "You were gone too long...I couldn't...I couldn't take it any more...I could hardly even breathe without you there."

"What am I, oxygen?" he muttered derisively, though both of them knew it was feigned.

Roy sighed, interlocking his flesh fingers with Edward's prosthetic ones, and raising his hand to kiss each individual finger in turn, his eye carefully watching for any sign of a reaction. "Ed," he whispered, his voice cracking under the pressure. "I love you...I've loved you all along."

Edward froze, any witty retort or snide comment disappearing from his mind quicker than lightning, and he almost cricked his neck as he turned it sharply to face the General once again. Roy was looking right at him, with that eye that seemed to pierce anything with its sincerity, and he shivered beneath the weight of it. Nobody had looked at him like that, not even his brother, or Alfons Heiderich, who he had lived with for the better part of two years. He had never expected that look to come from Colonel- ah, General Bastard, of all people.

"A...all along?" he stammered, wide-eyed.

"The minute I saw you, Ed," he confirmed, thumb absently stroking his metal knuckles. "Eleven years old, no limbs and all," he sighed, his dark eye closing gently. "I thought about you...all the time. Things I never should've-... But I knew...I couldn't. I couldn't take advantage of you. So I tried to forget," he laughed bitterly, a hoarse sound that was much too loud in the silence of the ward. "But some sins won't let you leave."

"Exactly. You're a sinner," Edward whispered, voice stronger than Roy had ever heard from him. His hand, still enclosed in his, clenched tightly, and when he spoke again, his tone was pure defiance. "I saw my brother in that world every day, and I wanted him more than anything. Wanted something to make it stop hurting," he paused, the memory still painful, but forced himself to continue. "So I'm a sinner too, Roy. After everything we've done, what's one more?"

Roy was silent for a long moment, heart pounding beneath his chest so loudly that he was certain Edward had to have heard it. He could feel the warmth of the teenager's body against his, still taste the young man he had become on his lips, and the way he was looking at him was something he had only dreamed of. So why hadn't the pain of losing him faded?

He smiled cheerlessly. "You've really grown up a lot, Edward," he murmured. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Watch your mouth, Bastard." he snapped back sharply, his tone playful, and Roy's lips twitched into a real smile as he recognized the old Fullmetal in that voice.

The smile faltered. "But...I know you. And I know, right now, you think you're indebted to me for bringing you back. You think this is Equivalent Exchange."

"Everything is Equivalent Exchange." the young blond responded immediately, as though he had rehearsed that particular sentence a thousand times over.

Roy's heart clenched painfully, and it took all of his strength not to press his hand to his chest, as though that would help. He hadn't denied it, couldn't deny it, and Roy wasn't sure if he had expected anything else. "You don't owe me anything, Edward. I brought you back because I wanted you here, with me. It was selfish."

Was he trying to convince Edward, or himself? He didn't even know any more. What he did know was that kiss, these words meant nothing to him, except settling a deal. Like he was earning what Roy had sacrificed for him. He glanced uneasily down at his maimed hands, and wondered exactly what that was.

"That world, Munich, was full of war and poverty," Edward murmured. "You probably saved my life. So I do owe you something, Mustang."

"Maybe," he replied, his tone harsher than he had intended. "But not this."

Edward moved away, as though he was trying to shift from his lap, but he hardly moved a few inches before he stopped, and looked Roy in the eye once again with an obvious indignation. What irritated him more than anything was that Roy couldn't even look at him. Perhaps he might have thought different had he known that the elder man was trying frantically to keep his tears at bay.

"I don't get you, Mustang," he said, shaking his head. "I thought this was what you wanted. I thought I was what you wanted."

Roy inhaled sharply, blinking tears from his eyes, and did not speak until he thought he had himself under some form of control. "You have no idea how much I want you," he bit his lip. "I told you I loved you, Ed, and I meant it, more than I've ever meant anything. But this isn't what I want if you're only doing it as Equivalent Exchange."

He looked momentarily stung, before his arrogant teenage self pushed to the front of his mind, and he found himself crying, "I have to believe in Equivalent Exchange, damnit! I have to believe that something's gonna come out of everything that's happened! When I was there it was all I had! It-"

"What about me?" Roy interrupted softly, turning his onyx eye to the blond. "Did you think about me anywhere near as much as I thought about you?"

His shoulders sank. "Of course I did," he whispered. "But I had no idea that you...Why didn't you say anything?"

Once again, Roy turned away. His gaze dropped to his hands, which were shaking, the tattoos emblazoned across them stronger than ever, and he realized in the space of a second that if he didn't find himself alone, soon, he was going to break down, and in front of Edward Elric, of all people. How embarrassing.

"Go." he hissed.

Edward blinked. "Wh-what?"

"I said go, Fullmetal," he repeated, voice weakening by the second. "You're dismissed, being let go. Whatever you wanna call it, just leave."

Edward stared at him. And stared. And then for good measure, he stared at him a little more, before finally, he uncurled his flesh and automail legs, and got to his feet. He stretched, bones clicking, and walked towards the door in an eerie silence, save for his prosthetic leg giving a hollow thunk each time it hit the ground.

His hand resting on the door handle, he turned to Roy, who was determinedly staring at the wall. He sighed, shaking his head despairingly. "You fool."

Roy looked up sharply, but the door was already swinging closed behind him. He could hear his uneven footsteps moving down the corridor, growing ever more faint until all that was left was the worst silence he had ever found himself part of. It took almost a full minute to realize he was crying.