Don't kill me, I know I'm supposed to be updating Thinner.

This is another of my headcanons, teehee.

(Oh, and since it's set in Amestris not Earth, I thought that even though homophobia still exists there, civil unions don't and so everyone just has marriage as the main bonding ceremony.)

It was quiet, but it was a comfortable sort of quiet. Roy supposed that this was the sort of quiet you experience in a room occupied solely by two calm, relaxed friends.

The other occupant of the room (besides himself) was Alphonse. The young man (because that's what he was now, at eighteen) was sitting quiet straight on the well-worn leather couch in front of Roy's work-cluttered desk. There was a small frown of concentration on the charmingly handsome face as he focused intently on the battered brown leather journal. Roy had been reluctant to hand it over. Not because he didn't trust the Elric with his personal research notes, but because he was merely embarrassed about having them read by someone else with so much interest.

Roy himself was working overtime on the overdue paperwork from last week. He'd been unable to complete it as he was on an emergency rescue mission in Creta, where some troops had been vastly outnumbered and practically flattened while trying to quash a skirmish on the Cretan-Amestrian border. Usually he'd leave mind-numbing paperwork like this to a later date when its completion became crucial, but today he'd decided to complete it as soon as possible. Firstly because it was Friday. Roy hated procrastinating work on Fridays because it would bug him all weekend. But mostly because he'd been contemplating possibly the biggest decision of his life, and thinking about it just made him panicky and flustered.

A muffled thump echoed around the room as Alphonse shut the journal. Roy glanced up to meet intense, fiery golden irises so reminiscent of his brother's and yet so Al.

"It was amazing, Mr. Mustang. I haven't read anything this interesting and complex since Brother and I read through all of Dad's work when we were kids." Al grinned with excitement despite Roy's self-conscious chuckle. "Do you have any others? I mean, it's fine if you don't want to lend them to me, but..." he trailed off hopefully.

Roy shrunk a little into his grand office chair. He was used to this sort of attention from strangers at the bar, but never at his alchemical notes, which he felt were almost a part of himself. Roy carded a hand through greying hair (which Edward endlessly teased and taunted him about), embarrassed at the feeling of intense exposure Alphonse's look was rendering. "I'm flattered, but they're not quite that good, Alphonse. I have about five or six more at home... I don't mind if you read them, if you're that interested."

"Really?" Al said eagerly.

Roy nodded and accepted the journal back from the younger Elric. "Ed can drop them off sometime at your house."

Al grinned again, this time accompanied by a gleeful giggle that only a man like Alphonse could pull off. "Thank you, Mr. Mustang. I'll look forward to it."

Roy smiled. "You're welcome. And Ed isn't in the military anymore, Alphonse. You don't have to address me so respectfully."

"I know. I suppose I'm just a man of habit," he chuckled.

Pale lips thinned as Roy considered his options. It might be beneficial asking Alphonse for advice. It is about his brother, after all. Roy bit his lip. "Alphonse, may I... ask for some advice?"

"Sure." Al shifted sideways in his seat, propping his left elbow up on the back of the couch. "What's up?"

The dark-haired man opened his mouth to reply, but he realised he didn't know how to phrase it. He sighed with a weak chuckle. Roy dropped his head onto the desk with a groan. Dammit.

"Mr. Mustang?" Al inquired, his voice a little tense with worry. "Are you okay?"

Roy nodded and raised his head again before dumping his chin into a pale hand, slightly clammy with nerves. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just... I- I don't know how to say it, I don't..."

A spark of understanding alighted in Al's eyes, and a wide smirk spread on his face like wildfire. "It's about Brother, isn't it?"

"How did you-"

Al let out a hearty laugh. "Only Brother can make the infamous ladykiller Roy Mustang this flustered."

Roy grimaced, which received another laugh in response.

"Now I know why you asked me," Al mused. "So what, exactly, are we talking about here? Is Brother avoiding you? Did you have a big fight? Are you going to break up with him?" Al quickly turned pale and the smug smirk was wiped off his lips. "You're not going to break up with him, are you?"

"No!" Roy exclaimed with panic, waving his hands to reiterate. "No, hell no."

Al sighed in relief, relaxing against the leather again.

"Actually," Roy mumbled quietly, "quite the opposite."

A golden eyebrow raised, demanding an explanation.

Roy blushed (though when asked about it later, he would firmly deny it) and brought a gloved hand to his face, reminding Al a lot of his brother when he talked about their relationship. "I was... I don't know, it might be too soon, I mean that's the downside of such a big age difference-"

"Spit it out."

Roy inhaled deeply. "I was thinking of... proposing."

'Saucepans' were not a sufficient metaphor for the size of Alphonse's eyes at that moment. Roy might actually have been afraid they might pop right out of his skull if he wasn't preoccupied with dread at the less-than-promising reaction at the mention of marriage.

"I knew it was a bad idea," Roy muttered, half to himself, half to the man in front of him. "I mean, I'm thirty-three now, the right age to be settling down and planning for my retirement and having kids - except that's not really a possibility since Edward is male - and maybe a dog or some goldfish... But Ed is only nineteen, and if his life had been different, he'd be heading off to university right about now, rather than being proposed to by some old guy, and I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment at that age, or just flat-out isn't the marry-able type anyway; I mean, what was I thinking? I'm just trying to push my wants and dreams onto him-"

"Stop stopstopstop." Al had composed himself enough to silence the self-pitying ramblings. He waved down Roy's pathetic protests with slender hands. "Just... stop, Mr. Mustang."

Al took a long breath, and Roy didn't quite understand why Alphonse seemed to be suppressing a smile.

"Look, as you know, Brother and I were forced to grow up very quickly. We've practically been self-sufficient adults since we were twelve. Brother's age isn't a factor in this. In fact, I'm ninety-eight percent sure he's just as ready to settle down as you are, Mr. Mustang. He's got my body back, and his arm, and he's handed in his watch, and he has a part-time job at a library, and he loves you."

Roy tried not to flush at the statement.

"You should ask him." Al smiled. "He'll say yes, even if he does get annoyed because you made him take the girl's role." There was a flicker of a smirk between them. "And I think marrying young runs in the family, anyway: Mum was twenty and I was seventeen," Al added with a shrug.

Roy smiled at the memory of the small, shy and picture-perfect wedding between Alphonse and Riza, and even more at the drunken speech Edward had given as the best man. "I suppose that's true. But do you really think he'd be willing to put up with me for the rest of his life?"

Before Al could reply, however, the office door was shoved open without warning and an offensively loud voice called, "Al! Hawkeye was looking for you!"

Said man leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room with a hurried "Thanks", leaving an awkward Roy alone with the potential husband candidate.

Ed flopped into the seat Al recently vacated. "You still working? It's half eight, Roy."

Roy sighed. "I know, I know. I just don't want this hanging over my head all weekend. I needed to catch up with the leftovers from the mission last week." He tapped his pen idly against the next paper waiting patiently to be signed. "I only have a bit more, maybe another twenty minutes. Then we can go straight home." He smiled at the pleasant thought. "I have a surprise for you, when we get home."

Ed raised an interested eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you, Ed. That's the whole point of it being a surprise," Roy teased patronisingly, earning himself a fiery glare.

"Can I guess?"

Roy smirked. "Go ahead, but you'll never get it." As if he would guess that I'm going to propose.

Deep golden eyes narrowed as they considered Roy's expression, attempting to break down every section of him and disect him until they found the answer in a boxed-off corner of Roy's brain shielded with police tape.

The office door burst open with a shriek for the second time that evening, this time revealing the younger of the brothers.

"Al?"

"Brother! Brother, Riza just gave me the good news and at least I think it's good and she says it's good and I'm pretty sure it's good but it could be bad and I'm not really sure, but I'm really excited but I'm also petrified and I don't know what to do and what if I really mess up? What if I'm not cut out for it and she leaves me to find a better man and it'll be Dad all over again and-"

Ed had scrambled to the trembling man in the centre of the room when his chaotic barrage of words had begun and he'd applied a series of comforting arm movements and senseless noises. They were obviously working as Al swiftly quietened down to just heavy breathing and an intense look of frazzled emotion in his eye.

"What is it, Al? What did Hawkeye tell you?" Ed asked, gripping Al firmly by the upper arms and trying not to shake him.

Al inhaled a shaky breath. "She... Brother, Riza's pregnant."