A/N: This was written for ShukiAi :D The original version is at my LiveJournal. You can find the link on my profile. This is an edited version, though the original wasn't very smutty... I like this one more anyway.
Disclaimer: FMA doesn't belong to me.
The bar the Colonel had chosen was not very big, and was one of the lesser known bars in Central, tucked away behind a large abandoned building and hidden from immediate view by a few trees. Inside, it was musty smelling and smoke floated around the ceiling, and the click of pool balls hitting one another echoed through the quiet room. Edward had no problems with such a small bar; he wasn't very keen on being seen with Roy Mustang like this. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, even if Ed wanted the wrong idea to be the right one.
Mustang sat him at the bar, directing him by his shoulders to a stool. The yellow light made the brown wood of the bar look golden, despite the fact that it was rather dingy and covered in water stains, catching Ed's attention for several seconds before he heard a snap come from Roy's direction. The sound made him jump and almost instinctively run for cover before he remembered that Mustang was in civilian clothing and his gloves were tucked safely in his back left pocket. After recovering from the shock, he narrowed his gaze on the older alchemist.
"Was there something you wanted?" he asked, less venomously than he'd intended. It was hard to be rude to someone who was buying you drinks, even if the place he took you was rather seedy.
"I asked you what you wanted to drink," Mustang said, sounding slightly exasperated, as though he had repeated himself four or fives times.
"Oh, just give me whatever." Of course, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Knowing Mustang, he was going to try and get him as drunk as possible--
"Give him what I'm having."
Edward eyed the yellow-brown drink that had been set in front of the older alchemist. He didn't know what it was; he never drank and he hadn't been listening when Mustang had ordered. The same drink was slid in front of him, and he turned his suspicious look to the glass in front of him.
"Drink it, Edward. It's fine," Mustang said, sounding amused.
"I was getting to it," Ed snapped back, and lifted the glass to his lips, trying desperately to ignore the grime that covered the outside and prayed to the god he didn't believe in that it was ONLY on the outside. He took a large gulp of the warm liquid, swallowed quickly, and immediately discovered what a bad idea that was. His throat was on fire, his whole body felt strangely warm, and he coughed a few times before setting the glass back on the bar firmly. A few drops sloshed over the side and the bartender hurriedly cleaned them up with a dirty napkin. He could hear Mustang snickering, and once Ed managed to see him through his watering eyes, he glared. This seemed to make Mustang laugh harder.
"What the hell is this?" Edward asked.
"Whiskey, Fullmetal. It's not bad, you just have to get used to it." The delighted tone in the colonel's voice had not gone away, and he looked decidedly smug as he drank his own whiskey with the ease of a professional.
With another glare, Edward imitated Mustang as best he could, and picked up his glass again. He brought it to his lips carefully, and started to choke all over again. He nearly dropped the glass, but Roy plucked it from his hands with no small amount of grace and set it safely on the bar.
"I am NOT drinking that," Ed said accusingly, as though it was Mustang's fault Ed felt like he had just stuck his head in a bucket of ether.
"Oh, you'll forget what it smells like in a few minutes and want more," Mustang sighed.
"I didn't want any in the first place," Ed retorted. "You ordered for me, remember?"
"Well, I thought you'd had alcohol before," the older man said, swirling his drink. "If you had told me--"
"I just turned 18," Ed said, studying his drink again with narrowed eyes. "I've only recently been allowed to drink."
"You didn't drink because it was against the law?" Mustang appeared to find this information worthy of a chuckle. "Since when has the law stopped you from doing anything?"
"Shut up. Why did you bring me here, anyway?"
"Well, you showed up so late to hand in your report that I was ready to leave, and I asked you if you would like to get a drink with me. Since you said yes, I'm assuming that you want to be here."
Edward scowled. "I didn't know you'd take me here of all places," he said distastefully, looking around at their drab surroundings.
Mustang's brow furrowed into a frown. "What's wrong with this place?"
The younger alchemist eyed the lumpy bartender, and then leaned over to the colonel, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, "It's not the cleanest place in town, is it?"
Mustang gave him a look and forced him back into a straight position. "It's really not that dirty," he said, "it's mostly stains, and the dim lighting doesn't help. However, they have the best drinks in Central. Hughes and I used to go here, when we were young and single."
Ed returned his look. "You're still single," he said.
Mustang smirked at him, but there was a hint of something else lurking just behind his lips, something Ed couldn't identify. "Thank you for pointing that out, Fullmetal."
The blonde scowled, and without thinking, took a drink of his whiskey. He cringed at the taste, but swallowed it without coughing, and didn't gag at the smell as he was holding his breath when he drank it. Despite the terrible flavor, the lingering warmth was pleasant, to say the least.
"What did I say? You wanted more."
Edward stared defiantly at the smirking man, set his glass and said, "I did not want more. It just gave me something to do."
"Then you wanted more subconsciously," Mustang responded, with a mildly humored expression. He took a drink of his own whiskey and added, "You don't have to drink what I gave you. You are allowed to order something else."
The prospect was tempting. The only thing good about the whiskey was the warmth it gave him. It tasted and smelled vile, and it made him want to cough every time he put the stuff in his mouth. However, he also knew nothing about alcoholic drinks and would rather not make a fool out of himself in front of Mustang. So he shook his head. "I'm fine," he said quietly.
The response was a smirk. "You sure? You don't seem to like your whiskey very much."
"Yes. See? Perfectly fine." Edward took another drink of his alcohol, holding down a cough as he swallowed.
"Are you sure you don't want something else?" Mustang asked, not at all concerned. "I could order you something less potent."
"I told you, you bastard, I'm fine." The short alchemist finished off the rest of his whiskey, then motioned to the bartender to refill his glass. After a moment's hesitation with a look towards Mustang, he picked up a bottle of the goldish liquid and poured some into the empty glass. He took a quick drink. "See? Didn't even cough that time."
Ed was rewarded with another chuckle. "Your eyes are watering."
"Shut up. Bastard." He tried to wipe his eyes with the back of his gloved hand, missed and hit his forehead, then adjusted.
Mustang cocked a brow. "Hmm, you said you've never drank before? I'm surprised you aren't tipsy yet, considering your drinking experience and size--"
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE'D GET DRUNK AFTER ONE SIP OF WHISKEY?"
"I didn't say that, Edward, don't yell," Mustang said coolly.
The tone of Roy's voice calmed Ed down quickly, and he sighed, leaning against the tarnished brass bar. "This whiskey really does taste like shit," he said, picking the glass up and inspecting the glass closely.
Roy laughed quietly, a real laugh, and it almost made Ed smile. "Doesn't it?" he said, and took a drink of the awful liquid. "It'll get you drunk, though, and sometimes, that's a good thing."
The corners of Edward's lips turned down. "Why would you want to get drunk?"
Roy sipped at his whiskey and set it back down on the counter before answering. "No reasons you would be interested in," he said, a smile on his lips.
Roy rarely smiled at him properly; it was always just a quirk of the lips, a smirk. When he did flash him a look that was happy, and not smug, his stomach would twist pleasantly and he would have to force himself not to grin. This smile did not affect Ed at all. This smile was mysterious, almost sad, and did not reach Roy's eyes.
However, Ed was not going to pry into the older alchemist's private life as long as he was acting like he didn't want to share. Instead, he went back to staring at his whiskey. "I don't think I could get past the flavor and smell to drink enough to actually get me drunk," he said.
Roy's smile didn't change. "It's an acquired taste. Drink it often enough, and you get used to it."
"Ah." Edward wrinkled his nose, and took another gulp of the vile liquid, and came up sputtering. "Yes," he said. "Definitely an acquired taste..."
The laugh that escaped Roy's lips caught Ed's attention, and he found himself smiling. "You've already drank enough to get you tipsy, Fullmetal," Roy said, and this smile lit up his eyes and Ed's stomach twisted.
"Ed," he said, and Roy frowned.
"Call me Ed," he clarified.
"Only if you call me Roy," he retorted, and Ed's smile matched Roy's.
Turning forward again, Edward wondered if Roy was right, and he was tipsy. He didn't feel any different. Happier, maybe, but that had to be because he was spending time with Roy and they were getting along...
"You know, you aren't such a bastard after all," Ed said, and he looked over at Roy, and was mildly surprised to see that the older alchemist was staring back at him with wide eyes.
The shocked look quickly dissolved into another smirk. "See? A sober Ed would never say anything like that."
Edward shook his head. "Never mind, I was obviously not thinking straight." He finished off his second glass of whiskey, blinked a few times, and said, "I may be getting a bit tipsy now."
Roy waved off the bartender, who had come to refill Ed's glass. "I think you should stop at two. I wouldn't want your first drinking experience to be getting completely smashed."
"I'm fine," Edward said, leaning on crossed arms. "I'm not at all tipsy or drunk."
"Walk in a straight line," Roy challenged, smirking.
The short alchemist eyed the older one, suspecting a trick. Roy simply shrugged and motioned to the empty space behind them. "Walk in a straight line, using the floorboards."
Ed hesitated for a moment, then climbed off the stool, using it as a support, and looked at the floor. The seemingly simple idea of walking in a line suddenly became rather difficult, but he was going to prove Roy wrong. He let go of the stool slowly, and moved one foot in front of the other, following the crack between the floorboards. After about a few steps, he started to lose his balance and began to tip over.
Roy slid from his chair and caught Ed easily, smug smirk plastered on his lips. "No more drinks for you tonight."
Edward looked up at Roy to protest, but his voice caught in his throat, and suddenly he very convinced that he was drunk because despite the fact that he was, in fact, attracted to Roy, he'd never felt so smitten before. He considered the feelings he had for his superior a passing crush, and it had suddenly hit him very, very hard that he was in denial.
He must have looked strange because Roy had adopted a worried look. "Are you okay, Ed?"
Edward pushed himself away from Roy, a little too hastily, and Roy grabbed his arm to keep him upright. "No more drinks," he said, and Ed agreed silently.
"And so I don't tempt you at all, I'll stop drinking for tonight as well," Roy said, drank the last of his alcohol, and set the glass aside.
"I should probably go home," Edward said, deciding now was a good time to escape this situation. "Al doesn't know I'm here."
"Are you staying in the dorms?" Roy asked. At Ed's nod, he shook his head. "You can come to my place and sober up first. I'm not walking you all the way out there."
"You don't have to walk me," Edward said, eyebrows snapping together. "I can do just fine on my own."
"If your straight line is any indication, you'll need someone's support to walk properly."
Edward wrinkled his nose at the thought of having to depend on Mustang for something as simple as walking. His straight line was just a fluke; Roy must have tripped him. "If I say I'm going to do just fine, then I'm going to do just fine." And to prove it, he dropped to the floor and started to walk. So far, so good.
"See? I can walk--" He turned to face Roy with a defiant look and realized he was holding Ed's steel arm at the elbow. Ed shook his hand off and the movement caught him off balance. Roy took hold of his arm again to keep him standing.
"There's a guest room at my house," Roy said, obviously trying not to smirk.
The walk to the colonel's place was long, despite the fact that it was only four blocks away because Edward was having trouble not tripping over his feet and he had started feel sick at one point, needing to sit down. But Roy waited with him patiently, not trying to hurry him along. Edward reminded him every five minutes that it was his fault he was drunk, but he didn't mind the company and Roy's smile told him that he knew.
When they finally arrived on Roy's doorstep, Edward threatened to transmute his door open if Roy didn't get the door open faster and get him sober, to which Roy replied that it was a bad idea to do alchemy when one was drunk as he stuck his key in the door and let Ed inside.
While Ed twiddled his thumbs on the couch, Roy made coffee and brought Ed two slices of bread, which he was very suspicious of.
"Why are you giving me bread?" he asked.
"It will help absorb the alcohol in your system," Roy answered, then handed him a cup of coffee as well. "Don't get anything on my couch."
Edward was sorely tempted to 'accidentally' spill some of the hot liquid on the nice leather sofa, but decided against it as he wanted to keep as much of it to himself as he could.
By his third cup of coffee and fifth piece of bread, the short alchemist was feeling much better. "Thanks, Roy," he said, standing up. "I guess I'll go home now. Al's probably freaking out by now."
Roy looked at Ed over his book. "You're leaving now? It's after midnight, I'm sure if you call him and explain the situation, he would understand."
It took Ed a few moments to register Roy's meaning. "I'm NOT staying here," he said firmly.
Roy seemed surprised by Ed's words. "Why not? My guest room is perfectly fine, and I can tell you're tired."
"I'm not tired; I've just had three cups of coffee. And besides, if I was, I could get Al to carry me home. Suits of armor don't get tired." Edward immediately felt bad for even considering taken advantage of Al's form.
The Flame Alchemist set his book aside and motioned to the empty seat next to him. Ed hesitated for a moment, then crossed his arms and sat down on the couch again, looking disgruntled.
"You just went to a bar with me, sleeping in my guest room can't be that bad," Roy said, frowning.
Edward shifted uncomfortably. "It's... not that." There was a pause during which Ed continued to fidget, before he continued on to say, "I don't like leaving Al alone at night."
Roy was silent, but gave Ed a confused glance. The younger man caught the look and sighed.
"He can't sleep, you know, so he has to stay awake all night by himself," Ed explained. "He says it's not so bad if I'm there because I... I talk in my sleep." He seemed rather embarrassed to admit that, only the light blush and short stutter giving it away.
"Edward..." The gentleness in Roy's voice startled Ed into staring up at him with wide eyes. "I'm sure Alphonse wouldn't mind if you stopped taking care of him for one night and gave yourself some much needed attention."
"Yeah, but--" The protest was stopped by a finger on his lips.
"When's the last time you put yourself before Al?" Roy asked seriously, taking his finger away.
Ed clucked his tongue quietly a few times in thought. "Not since we were little," he answered truthfully. "But Al--"
"I'm sure Al appreciates you taking care of him," Roy cut him off, "but I'm also sure he would want you to take care of yourself, too. When was the last time you really relaxed?"
Roy's concern for his welfare was strange, and Ed stuttered when he replied, "I relax all the time."
Suddenly, the dark-haired man seemed too close. Had he even moved? "No, I mean... really relaxed," Roy said, his voice low.
Now Ed knew the man was moving closer. "I'm not sure I know what you mean, Colonel."
"Call me Roy." The words were whispered and Ed could feel the hot breath on his lips, and then he could feel something else there. Then he realized it was another set of lips, Roy's to be exact, and they were gone as soon as they came.
It took Ed a few moments to regain his ability to speak. "That's not going to help me relax, Roy," he managed, adding his name as an afterthought.
"Maybe not," Roy said, smirking, "but it'll get your mind off of Al."
Then he was kissing him again, and Ed could feel a surprisingly soft hand cupping his cheek gently. His eyes were closed and he didn't know when he closed them. Something warm and wet was trying to get into his mouth, and he parted his lips cautiously, allowing entrance.
It was weird having a tongue in his mouth, knowing it was Roy's tongue, but what he said was true; he wasn't thinking about Al. Instead, he was thinking of how slick the muscle in his mouth was, the way it felt pressed against his, drawing circles the roof of his mouth. Then he realized he was just sitting there, mouth hanging open as Roy tried to lick his tonsils. So he pressed back against the colonel, and flicked his tongue once, almost as a test. The response was favorable, as Roy sucked in a surprised breath, and the feel of it made Ed's heart speed up.
Then Roy's mouth was gone and the man was looking at him, startled, as though he didn't know what had just happened. Ed was left hanging, eyes going from squeezed tight to half-open to painfully wide in seconds. The blonde was quite sure of what happened, the spot on his cheek where Roy's hand had been still tingling.
"R-Roy..." Ed whispered, surprised his vocal cords still worked.
"Call your brother," Roy said, his voice stoic. "I have some old pajamas you can transmute to fit."
Normally, Edward would have shouted something about not being short, but he refrained, knowing the timing was inappropriate. "Okay..." he mumbled as he was directed towards a phone.
Roy was gone by the time Al picked up, a worried, "Brother?" coming from the other end of the line.
"Hey, Al," Edward said. "I know it's late, and I know I should have called you from the office, but Ro-- Mustang invited me to the bar and I got a little drunk so I'm just going to stay here and sleep on his couch since it's so late."
There was a pause. "You're at Colonel Mustang's house?"
Edward took a moment to frown. "Yeah. Why?"
"And you're going to sleep on his couch?"
Alphonse was sounding as though he knew something Ed didn't, which wasn't all that unusual, but that didn't mean Ed had to like it. "Yes, I'm going to sleep on Mustang's couch."
"Okay."
"Where else would I sleep?" Ed wasn't going to end this conversation until he knew what Al knew.
"I don't know. The guest room? The colonel's house has one of those, doesn't it?"
"I'm not sleeping in his bed."
"I never said you were."
"You implied it."
"I did not."
Edward took the phone away from his ear far enough to glare at it, then spoke again. "I'm not getting into this."
"There's nothing to get into."
"Right. So, I'm sleeping on Roy's couch and there's no problem."
"Since when have you called him Roy?"
Oops. "Good night, Al!"
He dropped the phone back onto its cradle and went to sit on the couch, legs pinned together and hands pressed on knees. It was almost as if Al knew that Roy had kissed him, but that couldn't have been possible. Al was smart, but he wasn't omnipotent.
A clearing throat behind him made him jump.
"Relax, Fullmetal, it's only me," Roy said, tossing some pajamas at him, which he caught easily.
Edward recognized that tone, and he didn't like it. "Call me Ed."
Roy smirked. "Of course. Would you like me to show you to the guest room?"
"I'll sleep on the couch," Ed said, inspecting the pajamas with distaste.
"Are you sure? A bed would probably be more comfortable."
"Couch is fine," Ed mumbled, then clapped his hands together and resized the clothing.
When the blue light faded, he looked up at Roy, who was staring at him. He commended himself for not blushing. "What?"
"Nothing." Roy's voice had a hint of embarrassment, and before Ed could respond, he said, "I'll bring you a blanket."
He disappeared down the hallway and returned a few seconds later with a comforter and pillow. Ed took them with a quiet thank you and set them aside.
"I'm going to bed now," Roy said. "I'll wake you up before I go to work."
Edward nodded, unable to speak. Something unpleasant had settled in his chest, something frighteningly similar to hurt, because Roy was acting as though nothing had just happened between them. Ed wasn't going to say anything, though, as long as Roy was acting as though he wanted to forget that it happened.
Without as much as a good night, Roy went to his bedroom, leaving Ed alone in the living room. Ed changed into the pajamas Roy had supplied him with, and settled onto the couch. After a few minutes of restless tossing and turning, Ed found a comfortable position and drifted off to sleep.
Edward was startled into conscious by a loud, metallic crash coming from the kitchen, followed by a string of curses. Frowning, he sat up and looked in the direction of the noise. It was silent for a few moments, and then there was a scraping sound, then water running. Ed tossed the blanket off and went to investigate.
Roy was standing over the sink, filling a glass with water. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose, light blue pants, giving Ed a good look at his bare back. The carpet had muffled Ed's footsteps, but when he stepped onto the tile, his automail foot clicked, alerting Roy to his presence.
"Edward? I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No," Ed lied. "What are you doing up?"
Roy turned to face him fully, taking a long drink of his water and letting Ed admire his chest without knowing. Edward swallowed audibly, thinking, 'This is not the time to get turned on.'
Roy set his empty glass on the counter. "Couldn't sleep."
"Oh." He glanced at the clock. It was 1:56 in the morning.
"Edward?"
Ed's eyes snapped back to Roy. "What?"
There was a pause, during which Roy just looked at him. "I'm sorry."
Well, he certainly hadn't been expecting that. "For what?"
Roy shifted his weight. "For earlier. For kissing you. I shouldn't have, I guess maybe I was a little drunk, too."
Edward didn't answer, just stared at Roy, then looked in the direction of the coffee pot. What was he supposed to say? He didn't want Roy to be sorry that he kissed him. He wanted Roy to do it again. "It's okay," he finally said, his voice quiet.
"Let's just forget it ever happened. That would be... best."
Ed heard the hesitation in Roy's voice, as though forgetting about it wasn't what he actually thought was best. But it would be easiest, he knew, and getting caught up in anything involving Roy would be hard. Besides, he didn't want to get involved with Roy if Roy wasn't completely willing to get involved with him.
"Okay," he tried to say, but it came out sounding more like, "But I don't want to forget."
Roy stared at him for a moment. "Edward..."
"Don't bother telling me how stupid I am," Ed snapped defensively, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. "I already know. You're fourteen years older, my superior in the military, a man ..." He paused to take a calming breath. "If you want to forget, fine, but I don't want to. I don't care if you never want to touch me again, I just--"
"Shut up."
Edward looked up at Roy, startled, realizing the man had moved closer. "What?"
"I said shut up."
He couldn't have talked if he wanted to, not with Roy's mouth sealed over his in a hard kiss. Instead of words, a moan escaped his lips as Roy's hands slid under Ed's shirt, stroking the skin.
"Is this okay?" Roy asked, his hand still under the hem.
Edward looked up at him, silent for a moment. "Of course," he said finally.
Roy smiled and offered his hand. Edward took it carefully, and smiled nervously as he was led to the bedroom.
'Please don't let Al be home, please don't let Al be home, please don't let Al be home...' Edward chanted silently as he walked up the stairs to the dorm he shared with his younger brother. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed until he had to go to work.
Unfortunately, that was not going to be the case. Al was of course home, and waiting for Edward, greeting him as soon as he entered the door.
"Good morning, Brother!" the armor said cheerfully.
"Morning," Ed grumbled.
"How was your date with the Colonel?" Al asked innocently. Ed knew he wasn't really innocent, he was just trying to see Edward's reaction, which would answer Al's question without words.
So he calmed himself down, got rid of the blush, and said, "We didn't go on a date. We just went for drinks."
"Then why did you stay at his house?" Al asked.
"Because I got drunk," Ed said. "Well, Roy said I was drunk. I still don't believe him, it was just an excuse to get me in..." He trailed off, realizing where he was going with that statement. "In his house," he finished.
Al nodded again, pretending not to notice Edward's near slip-up. "I see you got close to him," he said.
The blonde blinked as he sat down on his bed. "What?"
"You called him Roy," Al pointed out. "You did it last night over the phone, too." When Edward didn't say anything, he continued, "Are you going again tonight?"
Ed sighed, thinking about the way Roy had acted that morning. He'd been distant, getting up before Edward, handing him his coffee with a little more than a mumble and jumping away when they almost brushed against one another. "I don't think so." Before Al could say anymore, he laid on his bed with his back to his brother. "I'm going to sleep. Night."
"It's not night time," Al said, "but good night."
Edward was woken up by a large leather hand on his shoulder. "Brother, wake up." Al's voice weaved through his fuzzy thoughts. "It's time for work..."
He was finally roused from his bed and dressed in clean clothing. A sandwich was pushed into his hands. "Eat it on the way," Al said, sending him through the door. "Hurry back, and don't kill the colonel!"
It wasn't until Edward was licking the mustard off his thumb outside of Central HQ that he realized Al had not come with him the last four times he'd gone to see Roy. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and went inside.
Upon arriving at Roy's office, he greeted his subordinates cheerfully, saluting Hawkeye, waving to Havoc and Fury, nodding to Breda and Falman with a smile on his face, but it was forced. Truthfully, he was nervous about seeing Roy. He was required to come in to discuss Edward's report, which they had blown off the night before in favor of drinks. He stood in front of the doors that led to the inner office for a very long time before Hawkeye told him it was okay to go inside.
"Ah, Fullmetal, I'm so glad you decided to grace me with your presence," Roy said, the mask Ed had torn down so easily the night before back in working condition.
Edward nodded and sat down. "Just following orders, sir," he said. If Roy was going to act like nothing had happened, then neither would he.
"Yes," Roy nodded and found the folder Ed had delivered the night before. He opened it, scanning it's contents quickly. "This has to be the only thing you do that's half-assed," he said, looking at Ed.
"Maybe," Edward said, shrugging. "At least it's got everything there."
"Everything you want me to know, you mean," Roy said. Then he started to list all the things Edward had omitted, but the younger alchemist tuned him out, instead staring at his mouth, remembering the way it felt against his own mouth, his neck, shoulders, chest... He took a deep breath and looked away, thinking unarousing thoughts.
"Is there something wrong, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, noticing his lament.
"No," Edward said automatically. "I just don't see the point of me writing up reports if you already know everything that went on."
"It's required that you write one and we discuss it," Roy said. "I have to keep tabs on your or I'd never know the truth of what happens while you're gone."
Ed wrinkled his nose. "Are we done yet?" he asked.
"Not quite," Roy said, then continued on, and Ed continued to ignore him until he heard a snapping sound, causing him to duck.
He glared at the amused look on Roy's face. "What?" he snapped.
"I asked if you if, in the future, you might come up with less destructive ways to solve problems?" Roy asked.
"Yeah, sure," Edward said, waving a hand.
Roy sighed and closed the folder. "I can see you want to leave," he said. "Go on, you're dismissed."
Edward stood, thanking and saluting him before turning to walk out the door, wondering if maybe he should turn around, ask him if he wanted to go to dinner tonight, ask him why he slept with him if he was just going to ignore him, ask him if maybe he'd been too drunk to remember the night before...
"Ed," came a voice behind him.
Edward turned and looked at Roy over his shoulder. "Yeah?" he asked, feeling too warm.
There was a pause, then the man smiled, but there seemed to be an underlying note of nervousness. "Do you want to get a drink with me tonight?" he asked.
Ed didn't say anything as a slow grin spread across his lips. "I'd love to," he said and, unable to resist, blew Roy a kiss before walking out with a definite skip in his step.