Written for Roy/Ed Week 2017 - Day 6 Prompt: Is this what I think it is?! and a Tumblr meme. Happy Reading.
Side Note- I don't own any characters, I just enjoy writing about them.
Thank you to hellosweetie17 for Beta'ing this work. She's awesome and you should check out her work.
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Roy clutched his scarf around his neck in a futile attempt to keep the blistering wind from his face. He had a mission; it was of utmost of importance. He needed to find the elusive 'Saving Grace' shop. Ducking his head against the onslaught of the frigid November wind, he clenched his fingers around the tiny slip of paper that Riza 'gave' him.
He couldn't believe he managed to fuck this up. He didn't mean to spill his Venti Mocha Nonfat Latte complete with a shot of espresso ( Edward called it his fancy ass milk riddled coffee) all over his boyfriend's high-tech laptop, destroying it along with the every piece of research for his thesis. He hadn't been thinking. Dear God! He didn't realize how much damage coffee could do! The laptop had sizzle and snapped. His lovely Edward, Oh his lovely dear Edward had sputtered and gaped. He had never seen the brilliant young doctoral candidate remarkably speechless before. He undoubtedly should have been paying attention. It was just…
Just...
His lovely Edward, his golden sun, had been hunched over his laptop, furiously typing with mountains of books surrounding him like a glorious castle. It was beautiful. Awe inspiring. He legitimately didn't see the loose pencils and crumbles of paper strewn haphazardly in his path until it was too late.
Oh, how he wished he had seen them.
But fate, cursed fate, was not on his side. He fell and his coffee went flying. If it was a sitcom, it would have been in slow motion as horror slowly became etched on their faces as the audience laughed.
A Catastrophe of Epic Portions!
He groaned at the mere thought of his lovely Edward's scarlet face sputtering his incredulity as he had tried to apologize over and over. Edward eventually had told him—in a deathly quiet voice through clenched teeth—that he should leave.
That had been a week ago...
So many texts and calls unanswered.
He was so fuckin' screwed.
Hopefully, this place that Riza jotted down would be able to rescue him.
Sighing, Roy craned his neck to read the neon bright sign in the middle of the shopping district. It had an elegant curve to the letters neatly displaying 'Saving Grace', although he wondered if the halo over the S might be just a bit over the top. Honestly, he just hoped they could help him. Roy cautiously opened the front door, peeking inside.
The sweet smell of fresh-cut flowers assaulted his nose. He was nearly blinded by the colourful array of beautiful flowers displayed throughout the shop. Squaring his shoulders, he walked into the bustling shop, being careful not to disturb the other patrons browsing the beautiful displays.
Running a hand through his ebony locks, Roy glanced around in hopes of finding a shop clerk. Stopping in front of the counter, Roy took a deep breath, noticing the odd display behind the register. It displayed beautiful arrays of flowers each labeled with a letter with the words 'How mad are they?' with an very artistic flare.
Roy gulped and unfolded the paper Riza had given him with her neat handwriting crisply displaying a nine. Perhaps, he was in the wrong place.
A tall blond man with the kindest smile he had ever seen stepped out of the back of the shop carrying an armful of elegant flowers. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in. Welcome to Saving Grace. The one shop who will help you get back into their good graces. My name is Alphonse and I would be happy to assist you today," the tall blond man greeted, setting the flowers on the counter.
Roy peered at Alphonse with slight confusion. Alphonse was a towering muscular man with golden eyes and hair like his lovers— It was a bit uncanny. Clearing his throat, he nervously scratched the back of his head and held out the paper Riza had charged him with.
"Well..uhhh.. You see… My friend told me to come here.. I royally fucked up..Here, she said to give this to you."
"Of course, we are happy to help Mr—" Alphonse queried, taking the paper from the poor nervous wreck of a man.
"Mustang. Roy Mustang."
"Mr. Mustang, I am positive we can help you," Alphonse assured him. "Have we met before, Mr. Mustang? Your name sounds familiar somehow," Alphonse inquired, his brow furrowed in apparent confusion.
"I don't believe we have, Alphonse, but I do own a… lucrative…law...firm—" Roy trailed off and took a fortifying breath. The florist was staring at the tiny slip of a paper with a mix of incredulity and grew more nervous as he heard the florist take a sharp intake of breath. Shifting his feet, Roy tried to stay calm but with each beat his anxiety grew.
Maybe they wouldn't be able to help him, after all? What if it was a mistake? What if he lost his lovely Edward for good? Things were going extremely good: he was going to meet the Brother soon that Edward kept swearing he was saving him from. Taking in deep breaths to still his beating heart, Roy awaited the ill-fated news. He was not prepared for what happened next. Nothing could have prepared him for it.
"Oh sweet mother! LING! MEI! We got an emergency, loves! We got a NINE! I repeat: A NINE!" Alphonse exclaimed, waving the paper back and forth.
Two more workers came bustling through the door as sharp intakes of breath were heard all of the store. The two workers that came out could have been related with their Xingese looks. The older one was a man with black hair tied in a ribbon with very dark eyes that stood in front of him assessing his very soul. The other worker was a young girl, maybe eighteen, with her hair done up in an Xingese style of braids with loops. She hustled around him making little noises, her steps flowing gracefully.
Next thing he knew, he was being manhandled into a chair with Alphonse patting his shoulder muttering, "you poor man." Where the fuck did this chair come from? Just what the hell was a nine?!
Upon closer inspection, he observed that most of the customers seem to be placed into mourning by the declaration of the florist. A few customers began to come up to him offering their sympathy for his plight. One even had the gall to slip him his number with 'just in case' suggestive wink. An older man had shooed the 'just in case' guy off while rambling about his misfortune, slinging his arm over Roy's shoulder in brotherhood solidarity. It was all unreasonably overwhelming. He began to pant as fear gripped his heart. He was a lawyer; he could negotiate the harshest of deals. However, the mere thought of losing Edward…
Out of nowhere, fucking ninjas came swooping down from the rafters whirling past him. Just who the fuck..What kind of shop was this... He had never seen ninjas. Were they ninjas? When did ninjas become florists?!
Wide-eyed with his mouth gaping open, Roy watched as the ninjas somersaulted through the shop gathering various flowers, then backflipping onto the counters as they unloaded their precious cargo until Alphonse had a stack almost as tall as him. He sputtered as the scene continued until Alphonse had the stack sorted into various piles. Slumping against the chair, Roy realized that he was indeed doomed.
That couldn't be good… Inhaling deeply, Roy began to truly, utterly panic and burrowed his head into his hands.
Oh god, it must mean he fucked up! Because the display only went to Z. He was fucking off the charts! They needed ninjas. NINJAS! Dear god, hopefully these people could help him. He didn't want to lose his golden sun!
"What is your other half like, Mr. Mustang? I need to know for this arrangement," Alphonse queried nonchalantly if flower gathering ninjas were an everyday occurrence. Well, for him they, might be.
"He's brilliant, awe-inspiring, very passionate, has his own sense of style. I will never understand his love of gargoyles. He's determined, protective, and so beautiful not even the sun could compare. God, I completely fucked up. He's never gonna wanna see me again. I ruined it," Roy moaned.
"Now... Now, Mr. Mustang. I'm sure we can help. But if you ever become available, I would be sure to help you with it," the man named 'Ling' purred, gliding his fingers across Roy's shoulders in a light dance.
"Ling, back off the poor man. You need permission and-," Mei sing-songed rummaging through the vases, " I don't think he wants you to pl-ay."
"Sorry, not interested," he huffed, raking his hand through his hair.
"If you ever change your mind, Al and I would be happy to help you—privately," Ling crooned, sauntering over to Alphonse. Ling winked suggestively, grasping Alphonse's shirt roughly and kissing the florist obscenely before disappearing into the backroom.
Hearing a 'AH-HA', Roy transferred his bewildered look over to Mei as she snatched a vase from the back row. Whistling, she held up the vase in triumph before hurling it into the air.
Another ninja nose-dived from the rafters, sending Roy sprawling to the ground as the new ninja snatched it mere seconds before it shattered. Ignoring his throbbing backside, Roy gaped in awe as the ninja flung the vase towards the florist, seemingly catching it on pure reflex. The girl, Mei, started to sing "I know something you don't" with fits of laughter before hollering for Ling to hurry his boney ass up.
Watching the florist work was like a being in dreamscape. Roy couldn't even hope to keep up as the magic unfolded before him.
Alphonse's nimble fingers manipulated the arrangement flawlessly as different shades of rich dark flowers flowed together. He was in the presence of a true genius—master of his art. The humble privilege alone would stay with him until his dying days.
The florist barked orders to the mysterious flower ninjas sending them scurrying about. The florist's beaming smile would darken momentarily as he inspected each attribute to the piece. The precision and methodical procedure was heart-stoppingly beautiful with a side of terrifying.
The vase ninja (or was it a different one?) swooped down, a bone chilling scream from the distinguished lawyer. If he lived through this… he would make sure Edward was treasured. He didn't think his heart could handle this.
"Lan Fan, stop scaring the customers. Do you have it?" the blond florist barked, grasping flowers of a startling nature from Ling and Mei.
Mortified Roy shifted uncomfortably feeling the burning heat spread across his face, as the ninja proudly displayed jeweled gargoyles to accent the arrangement.
"Sorry, Al. But, yes I got them. I rushed as soon as I got Mei's text—" the newcomer gushed, placing the accents carefully on the counter, "A nine, really? Wow. You fucked up big time."
Al nodded vigorously as Roy was left speechless as the finishing touches were being handed to Al from around the store.
Roy wrung his hands nervously as the uproar began to settle. He couldn't see what was going on. Al, Ling, Mei and now this Lan Fan were crowded around the counter obscuring his view as several other patrons dropped off items muttered and mentioned. He totally fucked up if complete strangers were helping him now. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and die at this point. He was jolted from his pity train with he heard someone clearing their throat.
"It's done, Mr. Mustang. The rest is up to you, sir," Alphonse declared with glittery enthusiasm..
Roy didn't notice. He couldn't take his eyes off the masterpiece in front of him: a vase of onyx that glittered a brilliant bluish purple etched with golden dragons; they almost appeared to be dancing across the glossy surface. Sitting majestically inside was the most beautiful arrangement of flowers he had ever seen.
"Oh my-wow, you are truly an artist of your work, Mr. Alphonse. Would you please enlighten me as to what kind of flowers these are? I've never seen anything like this before," Roy babbled.
"Each flower means something different, Mr. Mustang. The combination of all the flowers very nicely state 'forgive me, I love you'. The purple Hyacinth is you begging for him to forgive you for your crime. The Dark Red Amaryllis is promising a future and taking note of his pride and beauty. The Red Camellia declares him the flame of your heart and soul. White Poppy coupled with the white Jasmine suggest your sorrow and willingness to make amends," Alphonse proclaimed ringing the purchase up on his register.
Roy didn't even pay attention to the price knowing full well it was worth it. He carefully picked up the arrangement and bid them a good day.
"Oh, Mr. Mustang. Careful with that vase. I never thought I would sell it. My brother picked it out joking that one day someone might want it. It was more to his taste. Never thought I see the day someone who had his taste would come through," the florist chimed to a baffled Roy.
Everything was perfect. He had Edward's favorite dinner on the table— Beef stew, of course. The flowers were carefully placed in the center of the table with a brand-new, state of the art laptop gleaming with a big red bow.
Roy prayed to god that this would be enough. Glancing at his watch, he went over to a mirror and started to fix his hair. Tonight had to perfect. He needed it to be. Edward was his everything. He might be successful in his law firm, but coming home to Edward made a difference. He had laughed when Maes and Riza teased him. But, he knew they were right. He had found his other half. The short, ill-temper beautiful angel that he was.
He heard the lock being turned and glanced around the flat quickly to ensure its perfection. The door creaked open, revealing his beautiful angel. His angel was a short demi god of golden perfection clad in his leather pants and oversized red sweater with a black leather overcoat. He watched as his lover's eyes widened comically, stopping mid-sentence into speechlessness. Wait- sentence... Who was he talking to?
"Roy, what the fuck is this?!"
"Edward— is his proposing? I don't want to intrude," a seemingly familiar voice whispered.
Roy's brow furrowed in confusion, giving Edward's his most charming smile; that many have fallen victim to before. He could only hope his Edward was not immune.
"Edward,mi amour, I know I screwed up royally. I wanted to make it up to you. I know how hard you had been working and I ruined it. I replaced your laptop, the IT guy said it was top of the line. I wanted you to know how special you are to me. You deserve the best. I know you've been studying hard and I thought that dinner wouldn't be remiss. I made your favorite and the flowers are for you ," Roy apologized, kneeling in front of his lover. Roy watched his lover's eyes widen in what he hoped was delight as Edward opened the door to reveal the florist?
"Get the fuck off the floor, Mustang. Finally sold that vase, huh Al," Edward crackled with tears running down his face, "Finally found- someone like me- fucking rich. Al you sold the damn thing to my boyfriend. Oh god, this is too much."
Roy stood gracefully, glancing between the two dumbstruck and speechless.
"This is him? But it was a NINE, BROTHER! A FUCKING NINE! You know what a NINE means? How can you still be with him, after that? Do you need me to teach him a lesson, brother? He should be taught a lesson..." the florist boomed, his golden eyes hardening as he fixated his gaze on the perplexed lawyer, who was instinctively walking backwards.
Maybe he should have asked what a nine meant? It didn't mean a cheater, did it? The way the florist was stepping towards him in a very menacing way... Holy fuck, that man was terrifying.
Shaking, Roy looked for an escape route until he could better explain himself to his lover. Wait. Where was his lover?
Said Lover, his golden sun was rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically.
"Roy, love, you're fucking getting old. Ya completely forgot that my brother's a motherfuckin' florist. Jesus, fuck! I can't believe, ya fuckin' forgot., you damn bastard. Well, get in Al since ya already met him. Fuckin' hot though, right?! Just look at that ass! C'mon he made stew," Edward chortled, walking up to his boyfriend, tiptoeing to kiss him. Roy gulped at the murderous look from his love's brother as he gave his lover a chaste kiss.
"You're not mad at me?"
"Fuck no. I was—at the time. Thought I motherfuckin' lost all of my goddamn research and most of my fuckin'dissertation. I could've fuckin' punched you're lights out. It was fuckin' months of work," Edward proclaimed, peering over his gifts hopping back and forth, "But, fuckin' lucky for you,I remembered I fuckin' backed up everything onto Google docs. Fucking love the specs on this computer. Fuck, Mustang. Ya did good. Might have to fuckin'reward that later, General. And Jesus fuck, Al... These flowers are fucking awesome. Fuckin' gargoyle accents and dragon vases. It's fucking sweet."
"But, it was a nine…."
"Al's just fucking with ya… aren't ya Al? Nine just means that you ruined something helluva of important… Now a twenty... Well, that's a fuckin' deal breaker," Edward taunted, spooning an absurd amount of stew into a bowl.
"So, you're the famous boyfriend... I believe we need to chat, Mr. Mustang. Don't worry; I'll leave the important parts intact for brother," Al ordered, grabbing Roy by his elbow and steering him into a corner as sinful moans of enjoyment could be heard in the background.
Did the florist always seem this scary? Was he always this tall? Fuck, he was doomed. May his headstone read: "Here lies Roy murdered by his florist —his boyfriend's brother."