We ended up on the roof once he sobered up enough to make the climb. It seemed like he'd gotten most of it out of his system, still looking sad every once in a while but generally acting okay. He was in the last stages of dropping buzz and was still retaining some of that affectionate drunk by lying right next to me and resting his head against my real shoulder, but my hormones kept quiet. I stated wondering if my libido was lulling me into a false sense of security, and then the image of Lust waiting with fingers already extended sprang to mind and I wondered if I really escaped it all as clean as I thought I did.
"Hey... Ed?"
I glanced down at the mass of light blond obscuring my left shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Why haven't you got a girlfriend?"
I glared at the sky as if there was actually a god to blame this on.
"I..." well, here you go, genius. Perfect opportunity to screw things up. "I guess I never really found a girl I really liked."
"What about that one girl, you know, from the desert? I thought you liked her."
"Roze," I answered without really thinking because I was thinking about that more-than-a-little unsettling dance down in the buried city right before Dante made her appearance and things went from worse to an alternate dimension's version of worse.
"Did you try?" he asked as he stretched all sleepy like.
I looked at the stars, at nothing, for a long time. If there was ever a girl I thought I might be able to be with, it would be her. After Roy and figuring where my preferences lie I'm not so sure I'd be able to be with her in the carnal sense, but emotionally...
"I..." the pattern of the tiles appeared for a second, just to remind me. "Look, she had her own baggage. So much she went mute for a while. She didn't need any of mine."
Russel fought to prop himself up on his arm so he could look at me. He looked at me like he does a formula that didn't do what he thought it would but hadn't pissed him off yet.
"Ed..." he looked like he was trying to put something delicately, which wasn't a good sign. We're guys; we shouldn't have to couch our words. "Ed, look... just promise me you won't go forever without even trying because of your past, okay?"
He was serious. Dead serious. Not even a hint of that inappropriate drunken humor, no trace of sarcasm. My best friend was seriously worried I'd never have someone because I was afraid of letting them know how screwed up I am.
"Russel..."
He was right. Dead right.
"I can't promise that."
He sighed and flopped back down, probably too tired and residually drunk to put as much irritation into it as he wanted to.
"Russel?"
"Mmn?"
I wondered if this was the best time. Him half incapacitated and almost lying on me, in the dark, right after he just wore himself raw over his stupid ex...
"Look..."Just say it! "It's not just my past that's keeping me from trying."
"Hmm?"
"I'm not really into girls."
"What, you reproduce asexually? By budding like yeast?" It sounded like he tried to blow his bangs out of his eyes, which is what he does when he thinks he's clever.
"No."
"Does it not work?" He sounded like he was close to giggles. I shoved him away, a touch of that spirit of impetuous youth coming back to me in my irritation.
"No, idiot, I'm trying to be serious here! I like..." I remembered the neighbors at the last second and switched to a whisper. "I like men."
There. It was out. Now just to wait for a minute that feels like an hour until he makes some indication of where we're going from there...
"Oh."
I didn't know if 'oh' was bad or good. The tone was pretty flat.
"So..." he said slowly, twisting again to look at me, "that thing with you and Mustang...?"
He already knew what happened between us, except I replaced the sex with regular fights. He'd always pause with this almost puzzled look on his face if I ever said anything about Roy, so I think he suspected that I was hiding something about it.
"Yes," I replied after a few moments. "We were... it just happened, and then we kept going because we both just needed to feel..." I swallowed hard. "Are we...?"
The wait was only a few seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime.
"One of the biggest arguments I had with her," he started, "and recurring at that, was about this girl at my office who I know. She'd keep saying that if I really loved her I'd never talk to my friend again." I already knew this story from the letters documenting the way their relationship fell off a cliff and onto sharp rocks. "If I can be just friends with a girl why can't you be just friends with a guy?"
I actually sagged into the roof with relief. I didn't even realize how much it had been worrying me until the weight came off my shoulders.
"So..." he yawned, stretching contently with forced nonchalance, "am I dreamy?"
I rolled my eyes and replied, with the proper sarcasm, "Didn't you hear me say I didn't like girls? You are pretty though, and I'm sure you'll find a big strong man to carry you into the sunse--"
I was cut off by his arm forcibly flopping down onto my stomach. I sat up and returned the favor, and we entered into a wrestling match only slightly tempered by the fact that we were on the roof. It was almost too good to believe, him accepting it so easily, and I kept worrying that I was going to wake up. But in the morning it was still real, including his grumpy hangover sprinkled with the proper anger directed at his ex.
Only one big secret he didn't know. I didn't think I'd ever tell him that one.
