"Hurry up, Al!" he shouted. "I want to give my report to that bastard!"
The glee in his voice didn't fit the chore and any other time Alphonse might have questioned his brother's motives, but as for today . . .
"I'm sorry, Sir . . . I'm sure he didn't mean to get you all wet. I hope nothing's ruin . . . ED!
WOULD YOU STOP IT ALREADY . . . ED LOOK OUT FOR THAT LAMP . . . post. Never
mind." He sighed, the armor rattling with the movement. Moments later he watched as his (insane)
sibling picked himself up and stumble around for a bit before starting off toward Central
Headquarters again.
"Oh well." He said dejectedly. "Maybe I'll get lucky and he WILL catch mono this time . . ."
Ed, quiet and in bed for a month- THAT sounded like a long over due break he needed.
The loud sound of his office door being open and slammed shut was enough to knock him out of his medicated slumber.
Rubbing the sleep out of his bloodshot eyes, he glanced up to see Fullmetal pressed up against his
office door grinning boldly. Before he could say anything, the blond made his way over to his desk,
the smile never leaving his face.
"Me and Al saw you out earlier today. You looked like shit. Still do in fact." He said, his grin growing wider as he leaned across the oak desk.
The boy's eagerness truly was amusing.
He allowed a small chuckle to escape his soar throat, but thanks to all the gunk clogging it and his sinus cavities, the sound came out as an undignified snort, followed by a snot bubble.
That was enough to get Ed to back up a bit, smile failing at the not so pleasant sight.
"As much as I hate to inform you . . . " Roy sniffled. "I'm not sick. I don't have the flu, I'm not dying, I have nothing at all contagious. It's just allergies . . . seems the flowers are blooming earlier than normal this year."
Ed stared at the colonel, and the colonel stared back.
"So you're not sick?" The colonel confirmed the statement with a nod and Ed frowned.
Honestly, he has had enemies that were less disappointed about him not being deathly ill before.
"Well, if you're not sick, stop being such a whiny baby." He snorted before plopping down on the leather couch with the grace of a drunk elephant.
Roy huffed.
"Well excuse me for not being in my top shape when every breath is agony." He sneered.
"Then do us both a favor and stop breathing, you bastard."
"I think I'll pass on your suggestion, thank you very much."
"Why? Can't be that hard, people do it every day. You should give it a shot." He snapped, arms crossed and pouting.
The flame alchemist was about to respond (probably with a short joke) when it hit him just how stupid all of this way. Taking a deep breath, he rested his head in his hands and stared down at his desk. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, and Colonel Mustang didn't bother looking up until he heard the younger man clear his troat from across the room. Ed was clearly uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen upon them.
Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "These immature games will be the death of me . . . " but the thought didn't stop him from standing up and making his way toward the cute blond sulking on his office couch.
"Sounds like you have a bit of a cough there . . . " he leaned close, startling the boy.
"No! I was just . . . " he started to explain that he was clearing his throat only to have warm lips pressing against his own interrupting his explanation.
The shock wore off quickly and he opened his mouth to allow a warm tongue trace the inside of his mouth, leaving him speechless and panting.
"Out of breath too, huh?" Roy mumbled against tan skin as he lipped at the corner of Ed's lips and followed the curve of his face to a sensitive spot along his jaw. "Look at you, clothes all wet . . . you must be coming down with something."
Edward swallowed his protest as strong hands untucked his black undershirt and rough gloves slid along the soft skin of his stomach . . .
And he felt hot. He felt hot and it was hard to breathe and his stomach was doing flip flops and . . . and maybe he was sick. That was the only thing that could explain it. That made it all right. After all, as long as he was sick, he was only getting that rotten bastard back
"Yeah . . . " he gulped. "I must be getting sick . . . "
Roy pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead before moving down to nibble on an ear.
"Well then . . . " he whispered, "let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a fever . . . "
Edward gasped and made a startled sound but didn't protest as the rough material of his gloves grazed over a sensitive nipple before Roy reached up with his other hand, unlatching his undercoat.
Yes, these childish games were probably going to kill him, but as he gazed down at a blushed red face framed by golden hair, he didn't really care.
Besides . . . at least Fullmetal's 'Spring Fever' gave him something to distracted his from his 'Hay Fever.'