Alright, so here's a new fic. Yes, I know. I've got a lot of them. But this one I hold near and dear to me. Pretty much, this is my homage to the gay rights movement. I already have major events planned out and the entire fic should span 40 years of life. I'll likely come back to this chapter and flesh it out more, but I wanted to see how people responded to it first.

This is an AU. It is still set in the FMA verse, but at the same time it's not. There will be elements concerning Alchemy and their world from both the original anime as well as Brotherhood and the manga. Alchemy, however, does not play a large part in this fic. It's just another element to give their world depth.

Recommended listening: Swing Life Away by Rise Against

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA nor do I own the song Swing Life Away. Each of these go to their respective owners for the genius they are.

Swing Life Away

Every gay and lesbian person who has been lucky enough to survive the turmoil of growing up is a survivor. Survivors always have an obligation to those who will face the same challenges. – Bob Paris

Prologue

Fuhrer mustang was getting old. His joints creaked and popped when he stood or walked. His reflexes weren't what they used to be. And his eyesight was going in the only eye he had left to see with.
Fuhrer mustang was getting old, but he was happy.
Fuhrer mustang was happy and living the life he always dreamed. He had accomplished his goals. He had survived war. He had two amazing children and three intelligent grandchildren with four and five on the way. But most importantly, he has been married to the man of his dreams for the last 19 years and they had been together for another 21 years before that.
An easy smile formed, reaching his dark blue-black eye and causing the corner of his eye to crinkle with crow's feet. His husband was always telling him that you could tell a lot about a person by the laugh lines on a person's face. It was odd observation, but one Roy had found to be rather accurate. The more a person really smiled, the more it left traces on that person's face. It was something his blond found attractive in a person. The more Roy considered it, the more he could see why.
Humming to himself he entered his house. It was just the beginning of the evening and most people were washing up after their evening meals and chasing young children into bed for the night. The sound of little girls' laughter reached him and he grinned, thankful it was Friday and he had the weekend to spend with his family.
The thunder of steps sounded and soon enough Roy was greeted by two little girls in their sleepwear and braided pigtails. Trailing behind them was a very wet, very naked 5 year old somehow managing to keep two steps ahead of a 58 year old blond male, shirt soaked with sudsy water.
"Peyton! Come back here and get dressed before you catch cold! Riley! Catch your sister!"
The strawberry blond turned and reached out, barely missing the blond girl. Beside her the raven haired girl giggled.
"Harper! Don't laugh at me!"
The blond male groaned and darted passed the two slightly older girls. "Play nice!" He tossed carelessly over his shoulder.

"Play nice!" He tossed carelessly over his shoulder as he continued his pursuit of the youngest blond.
Roy just smirked, leaning against the door, now closed, and watching the familiar scene play out before him.
"Peyton! Get back here!"
"No!" Came the childish reply. Roy could just imagine the vein in his blond lover's temple throbbing in annoyance.
"I mean it!"
"Dun wanna!"
"Well tough! You need to dry off and get dressed!"
"No!"
"Peyton! I'll start counting!"
This time all he got was a tongue stuck out at him in response.
"If you're not over by the time I get to three you're not getting a bed time story tonight. One..."
Peyton just darted further from him.
"Two..."
The pitter patter of small feet on hardwood floors.
"Three!"
Peyton shot by the blond, the elder reaching out and managing to snag her around the waist and haul her into his arms. She cried out, trying to wriggle free, but he just held fast. Roy just chuckled.
"You know, you had just about as much patience for Trisha when she was that age..." Roy finally spoke, letting his presence be known. Blinking, golden eyes lifted to meet Roy's single-eyed gaze.
"GRANDPA!" the two elder girls cheered, running over and slamming into his legs. He hummed and knelt down, kissing each on their foreheads. He noted the blond finally wrestling Peyton into her nightgown before setting her down. She quickly toddled over to join the group hug.

"I see you girls have been giving Granddad a hard time while I was gone today..." He mused aloud. The eldest two had the grace to look guilty. Peyton just grinned.
Oh to be five again...
The blond snorted. "Good. They're your problem now. Goodnight, brats."
Roy just grinned and stood. "Go brush your teeth and get into bed, girls. I'll be up to tuck you in shortly..."
Three small sets of footsteps thundered up the stairs and soon the main level was quiet. Hanging his coat up and slipping out of his boots, Roy made his way into the living room where his blond had disappeared to. He spotted him slouched on the couch. Making his way over, he undid the buttons of his military issue uniform jacket.
"Getting too old for this..." The blond grumbled, rolling his shoulder and using his left hand to massage the ports where metal connected to flesh.
"You always say that..."
Gold eyes snapped up to look at him over a tanned shoulder before rolling slightly. "Thank you, your royal bastardliness..."
Despite the insult, the tone was fond and Roy could detect the love he felt for the other returned. Most would have questioned his sanity for his choice of partner, but Roy Mustang would tell you he was the luckiest man on earth. After all, who else could say they were married to Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist?
"I always mean it too..." Edward sighed, slumping further into the couch.

A smile graced his lips tiredly as Roy leant forward to place a kiss on his tanned temple.
"Doesn't change a thing. Beside, I'd say the years have been kind to you considering..."
Ed just snorted in wry amusement. "Least I'm not all wrinkly like someone I know..."
"You shouldn't speak about Alphonse that way."
A tanned hand lightly slapped him on the chest before gripping his white dress shirt and bringing him down into a searing kiss. If there was one thing Roy would never get tired of it was kissing Edward. For all the years they'd been together, 40 years and counting, these kisses had never failed to take his breath away and leave him temporarily brain dead. Even in their old age, Edward the sexiest man Roy had ever seen.
Their lips parted with a soft smack, Ed resting his forehead against Roy's and taking the man's familiar scent- smoke, cinnamon, and flint. That was how Ed described it. The exact opposite of Edward's own- sandalwood, machine oil, and clay.
"Missed you today..."
"Missed you too." Toy hummed, nuzzling the blond before stealing a kiss and straightening up once more. He could hear the giggles from the guest bedroom where the girls were going to be sleeping. "We'll spend some time together once I get the girls to sleep..."
"Can't promise I'll be awake..." Ed hummed, head resting back on the couch, golden hair plaited into a long braid that hung behind him like a banner of sunlight.

"If not I'll just carry you to bed and curl up with you..." It was a pattern that had become so familiar back after the kids had been born. Roy would come home late to find Ed asleep on the couch having tried to stay up and wait for him. Each time it made his heart swell with love for the blond.
Pressing a kiss to the top of Edward's head, he made his way up the stairs and into the room where the girls were now curled up in the bed. He smiled softly and sat on the edge of the bed near their feet, tucking the blanket around them more.
"Now then... how about a bed time story before I turn off the lights?"
Three heads nodded in eager agreement.
"What would you like to hear?"
"Grandpa?
"Yes?" Roy asked, looking over to Riley. She hesitated before sharing a look with her sister and cousin.
"How did you and Granddad meet?"
Roy paused, letting the question sink in before his expression softened and his gaze became slightly distant. "It was just after the war in Ishval had ended. I'd been there for five years and hadn't been home since being shipped out..."

FEBRUARY 29, 1921 CENTRAL TRAIN STATION 12:50 PM

Stepping off the train, a battle weary 23 years old Roy Mustang yawned. His military blue jacket lifted slightly on his frame as he stretched his arms above his head, back popping as joints realigned and air was released. He hated train rides with a passion. Without fail, he always managed to fall asleep in the most awkward position and wake up stiff. And considering the number of trains he had had to get on to get to Central from the battle field, if he were to ever see another train again, it would be too soon.
Beside him, another raven haired man let out an exaggerated yawn of his own, almost falling over in the process. Green eyes blinked behind thin framed glasses and he tiredly observed the train station. Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes looked dead to the world, much like a zombie in the middle of a bustling crowd. A brain dead zombie.
"Welcome home, Roy..." Maes muttered through another yawn. "We made it. You're a war hero... and I'm dead tired. I'm calling a cab and going home to sleep for the next week or two. Give my greetings to your aunt..." he mumbled, staggering a few steps away.
Roy watched him warily, sighing a bit. His friend staggered further and finally, Roy made to go get him before he hurt himself. He got there in time to watch his friend stumble into a platform sign.
"Pardon me, Madame!"
"Maes, that's a platform sign..." Roy muttered, grabbing his friend and hauling him off to get their duffels. Somehow, he managed to juggle both of their packs as well as Maes.
A heavy sigh sounded in his ear. "I wonder what Gracia's been up to..." Maes muttered, thoughts slowly becoming coherent once more.
"You can find out soon as I get you home. Call her and set up a date."
"But what if she's found another man like me?"

A snort. "There is no other man like you... Besides I doubt she'd have sent you those photos if she was in a new relationship."
At this, Maes colored a lovely shade of rouge and shut up. Roy was rather pleased with himself.
Continuing through the station, Roy could see the gazes of civilians following them. Whispered praises and sympathies drifted to his ears as the hush over the station grew with every soldier that stepped off the train. He could feel their eyes on him in awe. Their praise only made him feel dirty.
Sighing, he forced his dark gaze ahead and focused on getting out of there. He managed without incident until he reached the station entrance.
It was there that he saw him. Honey colored hair pulled back into a tight braid. Golden irised eyes. Sun kissed skin. An easy, real smile full of warmth and kindness.
It was in that moment; Roy Mustang began to fall in love.

The blond was stepping off a train coming from somewhere called Dublith. Somehow, Roy recalled the town being located somewhere in the Southern sector of Amestris. About a half day' train ride from central. Beyond that, he didn't know much else about the city. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he focused on the blond once more and all traces of fatigue disappeared.
The teen had his hair done up in a tight braid, the even plaiting shining captivatingly in the sunlight. His golden eyes were wide and inquisitive. They were the most striking feature of the young man. The rich color of melted gold contrasted beautifully with the tanned face that frames the orbs of sunlight with sharp cheek bones and strong jaw. The slope of his nose added to his sharpened features, leading elegantly down to cupid bow lips- no. Roy mentally shook his head at that thought. That was a term unfitting. The teen looked something to have been carved by the goddess Aphrodite herself.
His black shirt hugged his frame tightly, broad shoulders covered by a travel worn, loved brown leather jacket. The edges of the cracking hide reached the bottom of his where the teen's ribcage likely was, the sleeves long enough to fall to middle of the youth's palms. It was obviously a custom design, something the teen could have made himself for the purpose of travel. Strong legs were wrapped comfortably in a pair of leather trousers that were so worn the hide looked butter soft, much like the jacket on the blond's shoulders. The black leather was faded, turning a soft grey where there were permanent creases from constant wear. Brown boots were laced up to mid-calf, trapping the bottoms against the leg and keeping dust and cold from getting in. They were scuffed, in terrible need of a spit shine. The inner soldier in Roy 'was itching to make the boots look presentable for inspection.
He was staring and he knew it.
Apparently, so did Maes.

"What're you looking at so intently?" Maes asked, lifting a brow before following his friend's blue-black gaze. He blinked when he spotted the blond. "What's so special about the shrimp?"
Roy floundered for an excuse for a second before the teen turned his torso to shout over his shoulder towards the train. That's when his reason came to him as well as a reason to pursue the youth further. Wrapped around his neck was a cord of black leather, a red Flamel Cross dangling from the center of the choker. Immediately, he recognized its significance.
"He's an alchemist."
"What?" Really?" Green eyes widened and suddenly Maes was awake.
"Yeah. See the cross on his neck. That's a Flamel Cross. The kid with him has one on his jacket sleeve too. It's likely the symbol their teacher used."
Indeed, Roy was right. The blond had just been accompanied by another blond. This one was slightly taller that the first. His eyes were a darker color, almost a bronze instead of the shocking gold of his the first. His hair was cut short, the blond a darker almost dirty color compared to the locks of pure sun. He too, however, was tanned and travel weary. His clothing was similar as well. A slightly looser black shirt hung on his frame, his more slender shoulders wrapped in a blue leather jacket that looked soft to the touch. Roy had only ever seen that powder blue color on hides once before and that had been in Ishval before the fighting broke out. It was curious how the teen had come to be in possession of something so rare. He wore a pair of brown trousers much light the other blond's and his boots were worn, but in far better care.
Both were carrying packs over their shoulders. Looking closer, Roy noted they were standard military issue for refugees over in the East. Everything about the pair was odd, as if the pieces of their life had been picked at random and jammed forcibly together. He continued to look them over closely, noting the first blond's black leather gloved hands cradling a worn and battered looking guitar case close to him.
A noise of shock dripped into Roy's thoughts and pulled his attention back to his friend.
"They're so young..."
Roy just shook his head, feeling a bit of guilt settle in his gut. "So were we when they handed us each a gun and told us to pull the trigger..." He pointed out, looking back to the blond duo. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze was met with the burning irises of fire personified. That was the only way to describe the light he saw there. From years of studying and controlling the flames, Roy knew on instinct he was likely to get burned if he were to pursue the blond. To play with fire...
Their gazes were locked for what felt like hours, but was really only a few short moments. It was agonizingly sudden when gold ripped from Roy's gaze and turned to the darker blond. The irises that had entranced him rolled before he reached out and gently shoved the other towards the exit of the station.
Roy's gaze followed them out and he couldn't fight down the odd feeling in his gut telling him to go after the blond.

"So... you gonna try and recruit him for the title of State Alchemist?" Maes asked, snapping Roy back to reality once more.
"Yeah..." Roy responded, gaze lingering on the retreating figures. After a moment, he turned back to his best friend. "Come on, let's get you home..."
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Dropping Maes off was a task that was surprisingly easy. The man's mother was already waiting for them on the main porch. Upon spotting them, she ushered them both inside and fed them. Roy had tried to politely decline, but the woman refused to take "no" for an answer. And the food had been as amazing as he'd always remembered it being.
After helping her get Maes into bed, Roy had bid her farewell with promises to visit her soon. He's paid the cab driver that they had hired for the drive there and then set off walking. The stretch of his sore leg muscles felt amazing and his feet, calloused from hours of constant running and fighting, easily accepted the easy pace of the leisure walk. The familiar weight of his pack on his back grounded Roy to reality as it finally sunk in that he was home. He was really, truly home.
All around him Central was bustling with life. Ever changing and growing, the place was so different than it had been. Five years had made a difference. New shops had opened up. Even entire neighborhoods had sprung up in the years that Roy had been off fighting a fucked up war. He'd been off fighting to protect these people while eradicating those trying to protect their own homes.

The familiar streets did little to ease the aches of war, though it was a step towards healing. Ahead, he could see a pair of siblings playing in the yard with their dog. It was something that screamed innocence and it filled Roy with a warm sense of home for all of three seconds before the memory slammed into him hard. It stole the breath from his lungs and caused him to stumble. In his head he was thrown back to Ishval.
The stench of smoke and burnt flesh stung his nose and caused his eyes to water up from the putrid stink. Blood was splattered over the rocky streets. Spots of it were boiling with the sickening snap and pop of liquefied fat. Smoke danced up, lifting high over adobe houses. Their foundations had been broken. Ceilings had crumbled in on themselves from the constant bombardment.
And Roy stood in the middle of it all. His fingers poised to snap, his gloved hand outstretched towards the target.
Before him two young children cowered. An older brother and his sister. The boy could have been no more older than eleven. His white hair matted with blood and plastered to dark, almost chocolate colored skin. His hands covered his sister's ears, holding her head close to his chest. Her snowy pigtails fell in braids down her back. She had to have been four at most. But the thing that struck Roy the most were the boy's eyes. They were red as the purest of rubies. And they glared defiantly back despite the fear these two children held for him.
Nearby their dog lay motionless on the ground. The once golden coat now charred and coated in a disgusting mix of blood and dirt. The head was twisted on the neck at a frightening angle, the jaws snapped open in a slack grimace from where it had broken. There was no sign of fur on the front paws and lower legs. Just burnt flesh that was now covered in blisters and blood. The back legs were crushed from previous beatings. The soldiers had taken to sick sports of abusing animals when there was little to no action to be had. Roy had the horrifying memory of the dog dragging its back legs it pitifully even as it attempted to protect the two children.
They were shivering. The little girl whimpered and opened her red eyes right as Roy braced himself. Orders were orders. Either he obeyed and killed them. Or he was killed along with the children. Either way they would be dead within the hour. There was a click as he snapped. The air around him changed and became lighter. The spark caught the transmuted air and ignited in a blinding flash of heat and power.
Gasping, Roy dragged himself from the memory and back into the present. His mouth was open, lungs gasping frantically for air. His skin had become clammy and sweat slicked, causing a shiver to run along his spine as he suddenly felt sick. All around him Central was alive and thriving. All he could think about was how the color of the dog's brilliant coat had matched the gold of the blond's hair perfectly.
Panic and self loathing swam in his mind as he clothed onto the strap of his pack tighter. Swallowing harshly, he pushed his pace just slightly quicker as he spotted his home. The large house had not changed at all from the last Roy remembered it. That was a small comfort.
The paint was still a weathered white and the porch was still surrounded by rose bushes of different colors. Inside, Roy knew the elegant style of rich colors and soft fabrics would be waiting to envelope him in security.
Reaching the walk, he pushed open the picket fence and made his way to the door. He paused; studying the familiar red door he'd entered and exited through so many years. He was nervous and frightened. He hadn't been home in five years. Five years had been enough. He'd missed too much. He wouldn't fit in. But he so desperately wanted to.
That thought in mind, he took a deep breath and knocked.
"Coming!" A familiar gravelly voice called.
The door opened a moment later to reveal a face Roy knew almost as well as his own. At one time the woman had been beautiful. Black blue eyes and midnight colored hair that resembled Roy's own. Her face was now aged and wrinkled from old age and hard work. A story of a hard life. Her cheek bones were more defined and her lips, coated in a dark red, were set in a hard line. A mole rested just below the corner of her lower lip to the left. Opposite, a cigarette hung unlit, tilted down in a frown. Upon seeing Roy, however, she paused.
"Roy-boy?"
In seconds, Roy's last bit of control snapped. A ragged sob broke free of his throat and he threw himself into the familiar chest of his aunt and adoptive mother. Strong arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and back, gently cradling him. It was so warm and forgiving that he sobbed harder. The last they'd spoken had been a fight/. It had ended in a five year silence between the two as they stubbornly struggled with their pride. And yet, even now, she could forgive him. He was a horrible son. She was a perfect mother.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry!"
"Hush now. I've got you. You're home now, Roy... You're safe."

Well, there's the prologue. Again, please give me some feedback. When I finally get the chance to, I will come back and flesh out the chapter a bit more. Maybe even clean up the rough edges.