After much debate, I've decided to rewrite this. It has a lot of potential, but I've written myself into a place where I *really* hate all the characters. I'll probably lose any readers on alert, but hopefully for those that return you'll have a much better story in your hands.
Thank you,
NK
A/N: With Father defeated, Al restored and no alchemy to speak of, Ed finds himself burned out and drowning himself in his work. The reconstruction of Ishbal throws him and Roy Mustang together in more ways than Roy doesn't hold up his end of the bargain, will Ed remain shattered or will he find strength from an unexpected source?
I'm telling you right now, there isn't a whole lot of fluff in this story.
This is set after the FMA: Brotherhood series/Manga. Pairings: RoyxEd, AlxWin, Ed/various
Disclaimer: NoukaKatsumi does NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. Thankfully, those rights belong to Hiromu Arakawa.
Rated M for strong language, explicit sex scenes, violence, drug abuse, adult concepts, incest, and boy-on-boy (yaoi). Whew! That's a long list.
For Ishbal
Tuesday:
A drop of sweat rolled down the bridge of a tanned nose. Golden eyes were pensive and ignored the blond strands that clung to a tanned forehead .
"...one hundred and fifty," the 20–year-old breathed as he kicked down from his last one-hand stand push up. He began to cool down with a Tai Chi routine, the one useful thing he learned from Ling, feeling the beauty and warmth of the early summer morning flood in with every timed breath. It was the one part of the day he had to himself and chose to relish every minute of it. The only problem was that since Ed lived on base, the only private outdoor space available to him was the Officer's Quad, but at that time of day only songbirds could be heard chirping and flitting in the shady oaks.
A pair of black eyebrows knitted together above equally black eyes in an attempt to focus on the paperwork in front of them. Roy huffed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had left early last night for a date that never showed, so not only was he in the office at the crack of dawn in an effort to prevent being assassinated by Hawkeye, but he had also been stood up. That never happened to Roy Mustang. Never. The thought of it sent him from his chair to pace in irritation around his office, when something flashed in the corner of his eye from outside his window. Curious, he stepped over to it and looked through to the Officer's Quad, mentally patting himself on the back for scoring such a coveted view. Fullmetal was out there doing one hand stand pushups and the sun made his automail leg gleam. Moderately impressed and thankful for the distraction, Mustang continued his observation of one of his most unruly subordinates. He watched in fascination as Ed moved languidly though some exotic martial art. He could see the young man's long, silken braid whip through the air as he glided from one position to the next, his muscles rippling underneath his bronzed skin. Ed was a bundle of visual contradictions. Like satin over steel. Charcoal eyes had traveled half way down Ed's scarred, muscular torso when their owner realized he was ogling like a fangirl. Roy felt hot and slightly sweaty, what was going on here? Sure, Ed wasn't all that bad. Actually, he was far from bad with that strong jaw line and eyes that rivaled the sun...There he went again! He was Brigadier General Roy Mustang, a dog of the military, and this dog only barked up the finest female trees in Amestris.
Even with that strong affirmation of his identity as a veritable lady-killer, the general felt a pang of reluctance as he turned away from the window to sit back down at his desk. The gold band on his fountain pen brought to mind the intense, gilded stare of his subordinate. He felt his face flush again at the thought of having those focused eyes on him, but pushed the thought away with a determined growl. He only felt this way because he didn't get any the night before, which was rare and bound to throw off his concentration. Yes, that's it! With renewed resolve, Roy got back to diminishing the horrendously tall stack of papers on his desk.
...
Riza Hawkeye was rarely surprised. Most people are routine and easy to anticipate, even those seen as "unpredictable" had patterns of behavior. As the best sniper in the military, she had spent many hours watching people. This didn't stop her eyes from widening in shock at the sight of her superior furiously at work that early Tuesday morning. The lieutenant colonel wanted to cry tears of joy, but chose to approach in her usual reserved manner.
"Good morning, sir. How are you today?"
"Ah, morning, Hawkeye. I'm fine, just finishing up some leftover paperwork from last night," he smirked. To most, Riza Hawkeye seemed as implacable as stone, but he knew that slight twitch in her eyebrow meant she was surprised and was determined to investigate the matter.
"Sir, may I speak frankly?"
"Yes, what is it, colonel?"
"Why are you here so early in the morning, sir? I know that you are not - ahem - fond of your work."
"Whatever do you mean? I do this for the people that will one day call me Fuhrer. I can't be caught slacking," he answered sarcastically as he leaned on his fist to look at his adjutant. There was no way in hell that he was going to tell her that he had been stood up by some waitress.
"Sir, with all due respect, you didn't answer my question," she replied. Implacable as ever, Riza.
"I happened to be up early and decided to make my wonderful assistant happy," he smirked again and repressed a chuckle at the blush that bloomed across her cheeks. Before she could reply, the rest of his team began to filter in to the office.
The lieutenant colonel turned away to get her superior's morning coffee ready, but mostly to hide her flush from her coworkers. Riza Hawkeye was the best sniper in the military and had spent a lot of time watching people, but no matter how much she watched Roy Mustang, he always managed to surprise her.
...
"Ugh! What does he want?" Ed asked, annoyed. Fuery shivered at the proverbial daggers being shot at him.
"H-he didn't say, sir, haha," Fuery laughed nervously. It was well known that Ed disliked the general and hated being interrupted during his research. Unfortunately, the young master sergeant had picked the shortest straw and got stuck retrieving Edward Elric, premier alchemy scholar and resident loose cannon, from the library.
"This had better be good," he said while taking off his frameless reading glasses; all those nights reading in dim libraries had finally taken a toll on his eyesight. "Eh, I could probably use the break anyway." He flashed his best devil-may-care smile at Fuery while he stretched, which put the other man at ease.
"Well, what're you waitin' for, Fuery? That bastard's expecting me."
...
"What!" Ed shouted. He strode to Roy's desk and slammed both hands on it as he leaned into Roy's face. "No way. No fuckin' way! I don't do this shit anymore, Mustang! Find somebody else!"
"Major Elric, I appreciate that you are now an exemplary academic in the employ of the military and your research has significantly increased the abilities of the State Alchemists, but you are one of the most experienced officers in these types of operations. As your commanding officer, I command you to return to the field!," the general barked back. Roy leaned back into his chair and smirked in the way that Ed hated so much and said, "I know you had plans to study out west, but I need your help in Ishbal." Ed's eyes widened at that last word. Ishbal. He had stopped listening to what the was being asked of him as soon as Mustang had said that he needed him on a mission, a long term one at that, but he couldn't ignore this. Despite the fact that he had had no involvement in what had happened in the Ishbalan War, he still wanted to help. He'd been feeling a bit useless these past few weeks, his fire was dimming and it was dangerously close to burning out—not that he'd admit it to anyone. Especially not to Roy Mustang.
"You can't use alchemy, but you can still augment the abilities of those who can, right? Your breadth and depth of knowledge is unparalleled and would be quite useful to me," the general finished. Silence filled the office as everyone waited for Ed's reply. Ed imagined that he could hear the sunshine thrum like a harp, warm and shapeless. He stood up and looked Roy in the eyes.
"Okay, but I'm not going for you. I'm going to help the Ishbalan people," he ground out. The former Fullmetal Alchemist turned on his heel and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Roy released the smallest of sighs in relief. It was barely audible, but Riza caught it and smiled inwardly. Roy Mustang disliked pulling rank, but he did it when his subordinates needed it most.
"Sir, would you like to take some air? That exchange was...tense and we need you at your best if you plan on finishing all of your work before five."
Roy gave her a mixed look of appreciation and resignation and stood up. "Everyone, take ten," he said as he left the room. He wandered into the Officer's Quad and stretched out on one of the stone benches that lined the courtyard walls. Resting his head against the cool stone, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. The man known as a "hero of the people" had been only inches from his face a few minutes before. He could still smell the scent of the shampoo, library dust, and mechanic's oil that had wafted off him. He could still feel the corn silk softness of the braid that had brushed his hand. He smiled at how ridiculously long Ed's hair had grown; it reached the small of his back now. When he had asked why he never cut it, Ed had responded simply, "If I cut it, I have to keep cutting it and who has time for that?" Roy slung an arm across his eyes to block out the sun, although he didn't know which one. Those twin suns burned though the blackness of his closed lids to sear into him. What am I thinking? That brat is of no interest to me. Ugh, I seriously need to get laid.
But some part of himself knew that wasn't true. Roy was attracted to those who were able to set goals and accomplish them, moving ever forward, but he had always believed that this came at great sacrifice to the friends and families of those that never looked back. Until he met Ed. The golden boy that burned brightly for everyone but himself. Never allowing himself any rest until he had achieved his goal, even at great cost to himself—his alchemy. He had a strength that Roy couldn't match. I feel like I'm being sucked into the sun. I'll burn up and disappear. The general clenched his fist. No, I have too much work to do and too many people relying on me. I don't have the luxury to act like a reckless child.
The general stood up and returned to work with the loyal soldiers that served him.
...
Friday:
"Brother!" Alphonse called from across the platform. He jogged over to where a grinning Ed was standing. The two embraced; it had been almost six months since Ed had attended Al and Winry's wedding.
"Al! Long time no see! How've you been?" Ed asked.
"Great! But you know you wouldn't have to say that if you came to visit us more often, Brother," Al gently scolded. His face brightened and finished, "I have big news: Winry's pregnant!"
"What? That's awesome!...But you could've just called me you know."
"Yeah, but I wanted to tell you in person and I thought I would've gotten to see you long before now."
"I know, I know. Enough with the guilt tripping, Al, geez. I promise I'll visit as soon as I get some time off, okay? Besides now I'll have a baby niece or nephew to spoil."
"Okay, Brother. I'm just happy to see you're alright," Al smiled that sweet smile of his. Ed thought about agreeing, but he couldn't lie to Al, so he just smiled back.
The conductor rang the 5-minute warning. As the brothers climbed aboard, Ed thought that it was just like old times, but better. He watched as all the men and women he had worked with over the years climb aboard to support their leader in rebuilding Ishbal. Something surged inside of him as he thought about how much work lay ahead, but it only filled him with happiness. To have direction and purpose again felt right. With that thought, he took his seat with Al in their cabin.
As the train pulled out of the station, Ed smiled gently while he listened to his younger brother chatter about Winry and their new home, Pinako, and how much everyone missed Ed.
"Brother, you're so quiet. What're you thinking about?"
"Ah, nothin', really. I just like listenin' to you talk, that's all."
"Heh heh, you're so strange sometimes." Al glanced at his watch. "I think I want to go catch up with the rest of the team before they get too sleepy."
"Okay. I'll probably be asleep by the time you get back, though."
"I'll try to be quiet," Al said as he walked out of their cabin. Ed turned his attention to the view outside of his window. He looked for the edge of Central, where the variegated whites contrasted against rolling green fields. The familiar sight comforted him and was beginning to lull him into sleep, when he heard a sharp rap on the cabin door before it slid open. General Mustang stepped in and sat down across from the blond, smug smirk pasted on to his face.
"Well, major, are you ready for what lies ahead?" he asked, drinking in the sight of Ed sitting across from him. Just because he wasn't going to fall for the man, didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate the eye candy. He had grown considerably—he was almost as tall as himself. Roy also noted the change in wardrobe, mostly white button-downs and dark, slim-fitting slacks. The simplicity of it only made his beauty more radiant.
"You can drop the formalities, Mustang. It's just you and me. And to answer your question: I'm not sure," he finished softly. Ed's in one of his contemplative moods. It was during these moods that Ed dropped that well-cultivated braggadocio in order to just think. Those golden eyes turned from the window to gaze at him and suddenly it was too hot, too intense: Ed had stopped ruminating and was focusing all of his attention on his superior. "What do you want, Mustang?"
"I—" his voice broke. "ahem, I actually came to give you something," Roy managed to say. He had meant to stay longer and enjoy some aggravated banter with the blond, but Ed was having none of it today. Very well. "It's the complete files on the Ishbalan case, from the country's founding until now. Being the renowned researcher that you are, I thought you would prefer to do some light reading in preparation."
"Sure, thanks," he said as he reached across the cabin for the files, his blond brows arching a bit at the weight of the papers before setting them on the bench. "Anything else?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Ed looked at him expectantly while he racked his brain to continue the conversation. "Your hair." Ed blinked in confusion, as Roy continued," Since you'll be representing a general while in Ishbal, I strongly suggest that you cut it."
Ed looked at his CO blankly. "No," he stated flatly. Roy did a mini celebratory dance in his mind. He didn't want to see that luscious mane go, but it was all he could think of to say.
"I figured you might say that, but why?"
"Because I can't be bothered with it...and because you asked me to," Ed finished with a playful light in his eyes.
"Hmph, you haven't changed since then," Roy smirked and turned to leave. "By the way, Al told me to tell you that you have to come eat with everyone else in the dining car."
"Yeah, I will," Ed said, already engrossed in the first file. After Roy left, Ed looked up at where he had been sitting. What was that all about? And what did he mean by "since then"? He shrugged before returning to the file on the history of Ishbal.
...
Roy walked briskly back to his private cabin suite, latching the door behind him and drawing the curtain. He could feel the flush creeping up his face as he unbuttoned his uniform jacket to relieve the pent up heat. Ed had basically turned him a babbling mess. He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation at the interaction, could he be any more obvious? Probably, Ed's pretty oblivious to that sort of thing. Roy sat down on the bench and felt the full force of relief flood over him. He was glad that the blond had refused his request, otherwise he would never get a chance to run his fingers through those golden locks. The general laughed at himself—that would never happen. Ed was generally uninterested in romantic relationships and sex; they would interfere too much with his research. It's probably why Winry married Al and not Ed. Not only that, but Ed didn't have a romantic bone in his body; he could be kind, in his own brusque way, but not romantic. After daydreaming about how it would feel to kiss the younger man, Roy picked up the phone in his suite and called for a service attendant to bring him a glass of wine.
...
As Ed made his way to the dining car, he heard some strange noises coming from one of the cabin suites. At first, Ed thought maybe someone was just sick until he heard a female voice scream. He slammed open the door, rushing in only to be confronted with a startling scene: a disheveled Roy Mustang standing behind a blonde attendant, who was bent over a bench with her skirt hiked up over hips, pantyhose puddled around her ankles.
Ages passed before anyone said anything. Finally, the general cleared his throat and asked, "Yes Major Elric, what can I do for you?"
Ed blinked a few more times before he realized that Roy was asking him a question. "I-I thought tha-that someone was in trouble..." he trailed off. "But I guess I was wrong! See you at dinner!" With that he closed the door and strode to the train car door. When he stepped into the dining car, he welcomed the rush of heat and noise as he slumped into a booth next to Al.
"Everything alright, Brother?" Al asked with a concerned look on his face. Ed's face was flushed and he was breathing heavily; he looked like he had a fever.
"Nah. I'm alright, just hungry and a little tired," he said as he feigned a yawn. "That bastard, Mustang, gave me a huge case file to get through by tomorrow."
"Oh, ok. If you say so," Al replied. It was obvious something was bothering Ed, but he didn't seem to be in any mood to talk about it. "Colonel Hawkeye just finished telling a funny story about the general and Black Hayate," Al turned to the young woman sitting across from him. "You should tell it again, it was really funny!"
"Really?" Ed's ears perked up at the fortune-sent distraction. "I'd love to hear it. Anything to use against that cocky asshole!"
...
"Crap, I'm gonna have to re-curl my hair, " the attendant hissed as she undid her bottle blond hair from the loose braid. She fluffed and re-fluffed it in the mirror.
"Get out," the general's gruff voice said from behind. The sable-haired man was sitting on the bench, legs crossed, his dress shirt only half buttoned. Normally, he'd sweet talk his lays so he wouldn't have to deal with the tears and could expect an open bed the next time he ran into them, but after that scene with Ed, he couldn't do it. He knows my reputation by now, it shouldn't come as a surprise to him. But his stomach twisted as he recalled the look of unabashed disgust on Ed's face. The girl was still looking at him in confusion, "What's the matter, sweet heart? I know you had a good time, you practically put me through the wall when you came!" She laughed.
"I said get out," he spat. "I'm tired of looking at you." He turned to look out the window as he heard a sniffling sound drift out of the cabin and completely disappear as the door slid shut. He clenched his fist in anger. I need a drink. He finished buttoning up his shirt and pulled on his uniform jacket. Raking a hand through his hair, he made his way to the dining car. When he stepped in, his eyes were immediately caught by the swish of a blond braid at the bar. The general inclined his head at every greeting as he walked down to the bar and stood next the blond.
"Good evening, major," the general opened. He ordered a double scotch on the rocks and turned towards Ed, smirk in place. "Have you eaten dinner yet? I hear the kitchen on this train is unparalleled."
"Nope, the colonel wanted to wait for you," Ed replied. He looked into the general's eyes and flashed his famous rakish smile, "So thanks to you, I'm starving! Since you're here you might as well help me get these drinks back to the table." Roy noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes and followed Ed silently.
...
The dining car was empty except for Roy Mustang, who was finishing his sixth double scotch at the bar.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that's it for the night," the bartender responded to Roy's slurred demand for another drink.
"Fine, but I don't -hic- I don't think I can make –hic- make it back to my cabin alone," Roy finished. "Call Ed Elric from cabin-hic- cabin 408."
"Certainly, sir."
A soft knock on the door made Ed turnover in his top bunk. He could still hear Al snoring softly just below him as he leaped from the edge of the pull-down bed.
"Yeah, what is it?" Ed said lowly as he opened the cabin door.
"Sir, you've been requested to come to the dining car to retrieve one of your friends."
"Is that so? Alright, just gimme a minute," he sighed. He put on his slippers and pulled on a long sleeve black shirt before he shuffled out into the hallway. He made sure not to pause in front of the general's suite; he wasn't interested in thinking about that. As he pulled open the dining car door, he saw the last person he wanted to see slumped over the bar.
"Oh great, this is just my luck," Ed grumbled. He walked over to the bar and grabbed Roy by the collar of his jacket. "Yo Mustang, you stupid bastard, wake up! I'm not carrying your sorry ass all the way back to your room!"
Glazed over black eyes peered at him from underneath thick dusky lashes. "Fullmeddle -hic- "
"Ah what the hell, Mustang, you reek! Come on you damn alcoholic and try not to step on my good foot," Ed griped as he supported Roy with his right shoulder. He was practically carrying the man by the time they got to Roy's suite.
"I can -hic- I can walk on my own, Fullmeddle," Roy said as Ed dropped him on the lower bunk.
"I should just let you sleep on the floor, you deserve it," Ed said as he took off the older man's boots. "A shameless womanizer and a drunk. Whatever." Ed turned to leave, when he heard Roy mumble something.
"What was that?"
"...-hic- I want to touch -hic- to touch your hair."
Ed snorted, "What? Old pervert. Besides, I thought you wanted me to cut it?"
"No -hic- I said that because -hic-hic-" Roy launched into a coughing fit, which spurred Ed to grab him a glass of water. Roy could barely sit up, so Ed cradled him against his chest and held the water to the man's lips.
"Thanks," Roy wheezed after the fit had subsided. Ed laid his CO back on the bed and shrugged before sitting next him to undo his braid. Gold rippled over his shoulder. Roy's eyes widened; he hadn't expected it to be so pretty as he watched it pool on his chest. He reached up with his right hand, the faded scars of a transmutation circle were illuminated by the moonlight as he ran his fingers through it. He let it slip through strand by strand before grabbing a fistful and bringing it to his nose. What little sobriety had come to him was quickly overwhelmed by the intoxicating smell of Ed. All too soon, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy. Ed watched as Roy fell asleep, blanketed by his hair. He yawned as he stood up to go, casting one last look at Roy while pulling up his hair in a ponytail before stepping out of the cabin. What was that all about? Suddenly, he remembered the attendant, her blond hair in a single, messy braid. He tried to remember if he had seen her before, to see if she had been wearing her hair like that earlier, but it was no use and he was at the door of his own cabin. He stripped down to his boxers before hauling himself up to the top bunk, not wanting to wake Al by using the ladder. He yawned again as he pulled the sheet across his body. Normally he'd be unable to sleep right away, but the whole ordeal with Mustang had worn him out. It wasn't long before he fell into a strange dream about dark eyelashes.
A/N: Sorry for all the jumping around, it evens out after the next chapter. Please review!
