"Ed, you need a haircut."

Edward sighed dramatically, tilting his head back from his extracurricular reading (A Simple Guide to Time Immemorial), and giving his friend an upside down glare. "No, I don't," he insisted flatly. "Stop pestering me about it, Winry."

"It's all dry and dead on the ends," she went on, stepping across the dorm room to feel the strands hanging over the back of the chair. "You only need a couple of inches cut."

"A couple of inches?" Ed repeated, offended. He sat up straight and protectively snatched his hair out of her hands, glaring at her. "It'll be too short!"

Winry rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "Ed, no it won't. It is literally halfway down your back, and it will stay down your back, even with the little bit cut off. C'mon, it will feel so much better – they say it can even help with headaches, and I know how much you've been getting those lately."

Ed scoffed, "'S a buncha bullshit."

She rolled her eyes again, "No it's not."

"How would you know? That could be something they tell you to get people to come back!"

"Or, it could be genuine advice."

"So, you're saying you don't know, in fact."

Winry sighed, closing her eyes, "No, I don't know, in fact." She waved her hands, "We're getting away from the issue at hand here, though. Look, if you go to my salon that I usually go to, you'll get a discount, since I referred you."

The moment the intensely frugal Ed heard the word 'discount,' his expression perked up and his eyebrows raised, "A discount? Just because you sent me there?"

Winry flashed a cheshire grin, her hooks sunk in, "Yep! For being a new client and all – I get one too! It's a win-win."

Ed turned even more in his chair – to face Winry – giving a soft chuckle, "So, you mean… it's a – "

Winry realized her mistake too late, her eyes wide and she held out her hand, "No, Ed, please! For fuck's sa – "

Ed flashed his own grin of triumph, "It's a win-win, Win."

Winry huffed and pointed to the door, "Get out of my dorm."

o0o

"Alright, Ms. Kettleman, you're all done!" Roy announced, whipping the cape off of his last client of the day with a dramatic flourish. Hair clippings fluttered to the floor like shrapnel, scattered about the bottom of his chair and the cushioned standing mat behind it.

Ms. Kettleman was an almost-middle-aged woman, who always came into the shop for the same thing: level 5 cool brown with a short, blunt, bob and straight across bangs that came just to her eyebrow. She'd come to Roy for years, and occasionally strayed – but she always came back in tears, telling him how "some horrible new girl" had ruined her hair forever.

Roy always graciously accepted her back, patting her shoulder after taking her to the shampoo bowl and hearing her woes.

In truth, he found her to be an awful, self-centered, bigoted woman – but she tipped well (when she wanted to). It was no matter, he had plenty of other well-paying clients at Olivier's salon; if he ever dropped Betsy Kettleman, though, Roy feared what she might do. She had a lot of influence in Central City, knew a lot of people; someone like her could ruin his career if she were so inclined.

So Roy played nice. He welcomed her back with welcome arms, every time. He listened to her painfully boring stories, every time. And he took her hand when she got out of his chair, every time.

They walked over to reception and she paid with her black credit card, handing it over to Riza. She left Roy with a distant, patting hug and waved him goodbye, and when the door shut, he turned around to the desk.

"She went to that spa on the other side of town, the new one," Roy said, folding his arms.

Riza paused, opening the register for Roy's tip, "The one that almost got shut down by the board?"

"The very same," he sighed, shaking his head. "Apparently she didn't know, and one of her friends had been raving about the cucumber water and the massage she got."

Riza snorted, going back to her task, "Because cucumber water and massages are the same as haircuts."

"Exactly," Roy snorted with her. He jutted his chin towards the money she was gathering, "How much did she tip this time?"

His friend gave him a look, and handed over 1000 cenz.

"All that fussing I have to do over her color, over her cut…"

"I'm telling you, you should drop her," Riza said with a shake of her head, sighing.

"And I'm telling you, I can't."

"Well, that just seems cowardly to me."

Roy gave her a little glare, "You never tire of telling me what you think."

Riza grinned, closing the till, "I do not."

He groaned in despair, pocketing the small amount of cash before folding his arms on the reception desk, "I'm just… I'm tired of people wanting things so neat and tidy and just… brown. All these career women in this town, and they just want brown. No red, no highlights, not even warm tones. I'm over it, Riza."

"I know you are," she sympathized. "But that's all we really got out here. Career women, rich wives, and other bigwigs. They're boring."

"Well Gracia sees that nice blonde student, right? From Central U?" Roy asked. "She's always sweet when I see her."

"Winry," Riza nodded with a smile. "Yeah, she's nice – but an exception: I heard her parents left her some money after they passed a few years back."

Roy frowned, "Oh, that's terrible. I don't think I knew that…"

His friend nodded, "Yeah, Gracia knows her family from way back, I hear. She always gets first pick of Gracia's availability, and Winry always tips well."

"Hmm, I suppose I need a Winry, then," Roy mused, leaning over the reception desk.

Riza's eyes were focused on something behind him, outside the chic one-way glass windows of the day spa, her eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

"What?" Roy asked with a little laugh.

She looked at him, giving him a smile, "You might just get your wish."

Just as he opened his mouth, he felt the air shift as the door opened behind him, and a customer walked inside.

"Appointment or walk-in?" Roy asked, turning, but then stopped in his tracks and his dark eyes went wide at the sight of the person standing in front of him – a young man about 5'9" with great skin, great eyes, and perfection growing out of his head. The wind blew out of Roy's lungs, and any thought he'd had in his head went away as this customer's presence lit him up like a live wire. "Gold," was all he could manage to say.

Thankfully, Riza stepped in, standing behind her half-circle counter, "How can I help you, hon? Do you have an appointment?"

The gold man spoke, "I, uh, no. I'm just a walk-in. Winry was supposed to call for me – did she not?"

Riza smiled, "Oh, we were just talking about her – weren't we, Roy?"

Roy collected himself, his face flushing slightly, and he cleared his throat, "I – yes. We were. Good things, I promise – about how nice she is when she comes in."

The young man snorted at this, but there was an air of humor about it as well, "Pfft, of course she's nice to you all. She's a nightmare around me."

Riza just laughed at that, "Well, at any rate, we didn't receive a call from her today – and her usual stylist isn't here."

"Ah," the golden man said, running his fingers through his (sigh) glorious hair. "And I can only get the referral discount from that stylist, I'm guessing?"

Roy perked up, "Not at all! I can see you right away – I just finished up with my last scheduled client."

The young man brightened, "Great! Thanks for that."

Roy stepped over to him, offering his hand to shake, "I'm Roy, it's nice to meet you…?"

He took his hand, and Roy was surprised to find an automail grasping his flesh, "I'm Edward – Ed, if you want. Nice to meet you, too."

Roy smiled warmly, gesturing towards his chair in the salon, "Wonderful. Right this way, Edward. Let's get you caped up~" He gave a cheeky grin to Riza over his shoulder as Edward passed him, and she rolled her eyes, mouthing something obscene.

o0o

Ed was a nervous wreck as soon as he walked into the salon. He had no idea it was a fancy place that Winry went to – he thought it'd be more like a "Mom & Pop"-type place, with old ladies running the shop.

But he was wrong, on all fronts.

Not only was this a modern, swanky, expensive as fuck-looking salon, no, it was also home to one of the hottest men Ed had ever seen.

He was tall (freakishly so, of course, because Ed himself was tall), broad, and had dark eyes that had an unusual sparkle to them – and the moment they met his own, Ed nearly fucking trembled. It took everything in his power not to let his eyes wander – but they wanted to, and badly. That tight black t-shirt he wore, the dark jeans – even the little apron of scissors and combs he wore around his hips was sexy as hell, and Ed's face heated up as he walked over to the salon chair.

Roy immediately took a metallic charcoal cape and gave it a flick of his wrist, then glided it over Ed's front to fasten it behind his neck, "So… tell me, what are we wanting to do with your hair today, Ed?"

"Just a healthy trim, I guess," Ed told him, trying not to get nervous at the way Roy's glittering eyes surveyed him in the mirror.

And then his fucking fingers…

They ran through his hair ever so gently (ever so fucking wonderfully), only lightly pulling as they reached the ends. Tingles broke out from the nape of his neck to the top of his head, then down his spine and out his fingertips – Ed had to suppress a shiver with all his might.

Roy was busy studying his hair, from the looks of it – studying, and almost awed at it. Ed blushed, self-conscious.

"What is it?" he asked, unable to keep the question in any longer.

The stylist didn't answer for a moment, running his electric fingers through his tresses once again, "This is your natural color?"

"Um, yeah."

Roy's brow furrowed, "This just… grows? Out of your head?"

Ed was confused, "Yeah?"

"Remarkable," the stylist breathed with a shake of his head. He looked at Ed again, and he almost squeaked. "What products do you use?"

"Products?" he repeated.

"Products – like shampoo, conditioner, leave-in – that kind of thing."

Ed shrugged, "Oh, I use a 3-in-1 shampoo."

Roy's jaw dropped, "You… You what?"

"You know, a 3-in-1?" he said again, like the man hadn't understood. "It's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, all in one! I get it at the dollar store." Ed said it proudly, grinning brightly.

But Roy… Roy looked back at him in the mirror, positively horrified.

"Y-You… You can't be serious… Dollar store 3-in-1? On this beautiful natural blonde?" He took handfuls of it, as if it were a precious treasure. "Edward, why would you do that to your poor hair?"

Ed was rapidly becoming less intimidated (and more weirded out) by this guy by the second, and he blinked, "I… just want it to be clean."

Roy sighed, putting his hands on Ed's shoulders and looked at him in the mirror, "Ed, you must love yourself more than 3-in-1 shampoo."

"Um… okay."

"Trust me – by the time I'm done with you, you'll see what I mean," Roy insisted. He examined a few strands of Ed's hair again, his eyes carefully scrutinizing the very ends. "Your hair looks healthy, but I can see your ends are more split than they should be. And I can see your scalp is dry. Ideally, I'd like to clean it up before we do the cut, if you have the time."

"What, you mean wash it?" he asked, confused. "I mean, I have time for you to shampoo it like you normally would, if that's what you're getting at."

Roy shook his head, "No, no – I mean professionally treated. There is shampooing involved but we also oil and steam the scalp, then apply a conditioning mask to the hair. It gets rid of all that build up and helps rebalance oil production."

"Damn – I really need all that?" he asked.

This stupid sexy stylist… he gives the most devastating smile in the mirror, followed by a little chuckle that comes from somewhere deep in that muscular chest, and it nearly slays Edward where he sits.

"I certainly recommend it," Roy told him with a nod. "But we don't have to do it if you don't have time today."

"No, no," Ed said, waving his hand under the cape. "I have time – I'm just surprised, is all."

Roy nodded, continuing to study his hair, "Good. Now let's talk about the cut…" He fluffed Ed's hair out about his shoulders and back, using his fingers to show Ed the level of damage his hair had and where the healthier hair began. "I'd recommend a little over two inches off your length," Roy went on. His hands moved gently around Ed's shoulders to his back, and he felt the stylist lightly touch between his shoulder blades, "Which would leave you about here – still plenty of hair."

Ed sighed in relief and nodded, "Yeah, okay – that sounds good."

Roy smiled, "Good." He continued touching Ed's hair, sweeping those swift, gentle fingers through it, watching it in the mirror. "I could put some light layering in too – to give it some movement. It would feel lighter like that." He started touching Ed's bangs, lightly raking his nails through them to brush them back and examine the ends. Ed just wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep, to let this man play with his hair for as long as he could get away with.

Roy still seemed oblivious to Ed's enjoyment, however, still looking in deep thought at his bangs. "Hmm," he started, "I could trim these a little as well, add a few pieces around your face to help frame those gorgeous eyes of yours."

Ed reddened slightly, but he smiled, "Thanks – and yeah, I like that too. Just don't get rid of my cowlick here." He touched the piece of hair that liked to stick up where his bangs naturally parted.

Roy shook his head, "Nah, I wouldn't get rid of it – I like it. It adds some character to your silhouette." He smiled at him in the mirror, "So, do we have a plan, Edward?"

"I believe we do," he confirmed with a nod.

The stylist beamed, "Wonderful – then let's get you shampooed!"

o0o

Roy began the scalp treatment, quietly humming to himself as he gathered the products he'd need. He loved clients like Ed, who had beautiful natural hair, and would likely (hopefully) keep it that way for a good long while; they just needed the right products to keep it healthy – and Roy would do just that for Edward.

He'd seated him at one of the glossy black porcelain shampoo bowls, making sure he had the proper cushion to keep his neck comfortable and his back from getting wet from the spray of water. Roy returned to him a few minutes later, showing him the various products for the treatment, "This is a scalp detox, which will break up the oils and build up – and I'll pair that with the rebalancing shampoo to keep the scalp from feeling stripped."

He could see the slight rosiness to Ed's cheeks (and Roy could have been done for, just from that), but the blonde nodded, "Okay – sounds fancy, but I'm good with that."

Roy smiled down at him – and he swore he saw Ed's face get a shade darker – and he clapped his hands together excitedly, "Alright, let's get started, then~"

Wetting Ed's hair didn't take too long, as it was quite fine – but he had tons of it, which was typical for blondes. Roy worked the detox in with his fingertips, massaging it onto the scalp with thorough precision. He saw the way Ed's brow furrowed and paused his fingers, "Is something wrong? Too rough?"

"..mmnh?" Ed murmured blearily. His eyes opened slightly, only showing a sliver of his golden eyes.

Roy chuckled, repeating himself, "Is it too rough?"

"Mm-mm, 's fine," the blonde said, sounding dazed. His face was pinkening again, and the flush ran all the way down his neck, Roy saw. "Y're good with your hands," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Roy laughed more openly, "Why, thank you – just as long as you're comfortable. Let me know if you're not."

"If I stay awake," Ed said with a slight snort, grinning.

Roy continued massaging the product in, smiling to himself as he worked. He looked up once, and caught Riza staring at him from the reception desk, smirking. Again, he mouthed something offensive at her, and she made a rude gesture with her hand.

He went back to his work, and before too long, Roy was wheeling over the scalp steamer hood and carefully placing it on Ed's head.

"Alright, I'm going to let this run for about ten minutes or so – did you want anything, Ed?" Roy asked, touching his shoulder.

The blonde seemed to jolt awake, his eyes blinking open, "Wha–? Oh, uh… just some water, if it's not a bother."

Roy smiled, "Not at all – I'll be right back." He turned on the machine and set off to the break room, retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, and then a bendy-straw from the counter, returning to Ed a moment later, "Here, I got you a straw so you don't have to move your head as much with the hood on."

Edward took the bottle with a nod, "Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"Nah, I'm good for now~"

Roy nodded and left Ed to relax for the time being, going to fix himself a snack. He didn't even have to turn around to hear Riza approaching before she spoke.

"You're smitten."

"Shut up."

"You are absolutely smitten with him, admit it~"

He turned around, opening the container of yogurt he found in the fridge, "Hush, you."

Riza gave him a playful, withering stare, "You're smitten, and I'm telling Olivier you ate one of her yogurts."

Roy took a spoonful of the fancy fluffy yogurt, in the flavor "Strawberry Mist," and took an obscenely large bite, "See if I care."

She gave him another look and sauntered back to her post. Roy rolled his eyes – but in his heart of hearts, he knew she was right.

o0o

Ed had nearly had an extremely embarrassing situation on his hands moments ago. Yes, he was falling asleep from how damn good that damned man's hands felt in his hair – but at first, he was fighting back moans that would have been obscene and would have probably ended up getting him arrested.

He felt like a damned pervert. In all his studies, he'd never heard of the scalp to be an erogenous zone. And hair was dead tissue for fuck's sake! It should not feel that good for someone to touch it like Roy had, but God, did Ed want him to keep doing it.

He wanted to feel his fingers on his scalp again, running through his dried hair, pulling it at the base of his skull –

Ed was torn out of his fantasies as he felt Roy at his side again, and he cleared his throat, coming back to himself and the room he was in, suddenly very aware of the strange, steamy hood on his head. He looked up at the stylist sheepishly, catching his dark eyes as Roy examined the machine.

"Hi, there," he greeted.

Ed blushed, "Hi."

Slowly, Roy began to pull the hood away, and the fragrant herbal scent from the products he'd put in Ed's hair wafted into the air, pleasantly filling his nose. "Ah, this helped a lot, I can already tell," he heard the stylist comment as his hair fell free of the hood. "Let's get you rinsed."

"M'kay," Ed murmured, closing his eyes.

Roy took a couple of minutes to thoroughly rinse his hair with tepid water – he claimed this helped the shine of the hair and "close the cuticle" (whatever that was), not that Ed minded. He could handle some cold water.

Once the mask had been rinsed, Roy brought a towel over Ed's hair and began to squeeze the excess water out, easing Ed to his feet and helping him back to his chair.

"So," Roy began as he retrieved his comb and started to smooth out the wet hair with it, "tell me about yourself, Ed. You go to school with Winry?"

Ed nodded – but then remembered he was getting a haircut, and his whole body went rigid, "U-Uh yeah. Different studies, though. She's getting her master's in engineering. I'm working on my biochemistry doctorate. This'll be my fourth year in school." He laughed lightly, "I, uh, got a few more to go."

"Biochemistry?" the stylist asked, sounding surprised (like everyone did). "Wow – you're pretty young though, right? Are you like… a prodigy?"

He looked up, only to find Roy looking at him in the mirror, and Ed felt his chest swell with warmth and pride at the genuine dumbfounded look on this gorgeous man's face.

Edward grinned, shrugging, "In a sense, I guess. I just liked books as a kid. I read everything I could get my hands on. It used to drive my mother crazy." He waved a hand and shook his head, "Anyway, yeah, Central U gave me a scholarship when I was 16 – anything I wanted to do with it."

Roy nodded, clearly impressed, and went back to combing Ed's hair, "And you chose biochemistry?"

Ed nodded again, but then remembered – once again – that he was getting a haircut, and went rigid. "Um, yeah," he confirmed. "My… My brother is sick, and I'm hoping to find a cure for him."

He liked to avoid sharing the sad parts of his life with people – especially people he just met – but there was something about Roy that made him open up.

Roy's eyes once again found Ed's in the mirror, and he frowned, nodding, "That's as good a reason as anyone has for choosing that field, then. I certainly hope you find the cure, Ed."

"Heh, me too," he said sheepishly.

Ed fell silent as Roy continued the cut, diligently cutting the tangled ends off his hair. It was easy for him to close his eyes and just listen to the rhythmic snips from his scissors, and the soft clutter of his wet hair hitting the mat below.

He must have dozed off for a time, because he suddenly felt Roy in front of him, and he was ever so gently tipping Ed's chin with the tips of his fingers. Their eyes met again, and his breath caught at the closeness. Roy was so focused, brow furrowed and face serious as he combed Ed's bangs in place before they, too, were lightly snipped by the stylist's scissors.

Ed closed his eyes as the hair fell on his face, making sure none got in them. Roy dutifully brushed them away with something soft and lightly scented of powder. Then, Ed felt himself directed to sit back in the chair, straight as he could make himself as Roy began picking up hair from the top of Ed's head in his comb. Edward watched him in the mirror, seeing the dry ends that needed chopping come off. Every time Roy would fluff his hair after he finished a section, it felt lighter, swishier, and just altogether better.

By the time he was finished, Ed was touching his now barely damp hair, amazed at how much better it felt. "Wow," he heard himself say, blinking at himself in the mirror.

Roy chuckled, rubbing some kind of product between his hands, "Just wait till I dry it." He began running his fingers through the ends of Ed's hair, working the product into it. "This is just a heat protectant," he supplied, his dark eyes meeting Edward's curious ones in the mirror. The blonde just nodded with a little shrug.

The stylist gave a little wink as he wiped his hands with a nearby towel – and Edward couldn't help but notice the way his biceps slightly flexed in his dark t-shirt with the movement. He blushed (yet again), and looked away, clearing his throat.

Roy then picked up the blow dryer and a brush, wielding both like they were weapons or something, and still wearing that charming smile of his.

"Alright, Ed – let's get you dry~"

o0o

Roy's face hurt from smiling as he dried Ed's hair, taking every bit of care with the blow dryer and round brush as he could – he didn't even use the max heat on it, for fear of damaging his hard work.

Nevertheless, his mind was somewhat racing with what he'd learned about Edward. A prodigy? Biochemistry? Wanting to cure his sick brother? Roy was swooning on the inside. His heart was still pounding by the time he turned the dryer off, but he kept his composure as he reached for a final product.

"This is just a little finishing oil, for the ends," Roy told him as he ran his fingers through the now angel-soft tresses Ed bore.

When he looked up at the blonde in question, in the mirror, his golden eyes were sparkling at his own reflection.

"Holy… Holy fuck."

Roy guffawed, his face aching from his own grin, "You like it?"

Ed gave an almost annoyed snort, "Like it? It's awesome." The blonde then looked up at Roy with the most unfiltered, genuine gratitude, "Thank you. Seriously. I didn't know I could look or… even feel this good."

Roy's eyes softened, and he reached forward to squeeze Ed's shoulder, "You're more than welcome, Edward. Come back here anytime."

Ed smiled, "I will."

"Good," the stylist said with a nod – but then his expression became serious, his eyes narrowed. "But you need to promise me one thing…"

"What's that?"

Roy pointed at Ed, "Never dye it black."

o0o

Ed followed Roy to the front to pay – but before that, the stylist went up to the massive wall of hair products the salon offered, and he selected a few for Ed to use, specifically to "forever replace that 3-in-1 of his."

Once everything was gathered, rung up, and bagged, Ed paid the woman behind the reception desk as Roy leaned against the counter beside him. Edward desperately tried to ignore how casually sexy the man was, just anxiously stuffing his card back into his wallet as he felt Roy's heavy gaze all over him.

The receptionist walked away, and then he heard Roy speak again.

"Do you have plans tonight, Ed?"

Edward looked up at him, his cheeks flushed, "U-Um, no?" He thought after his answer though, trying to remember if he had lab tonight. "No," he said again, more confidently.

When he looked up, Ed saw that Roy's eyes were full of such heat. Ed gulped.

"Have dinner with me tonight," he said. It wasn't a question, or an invitation.

Ed didn't trust himself to speak in intelligible words, so instead he nodded enthusiastically, and the next few moments were the both of them slightly awkwardly plugging each other's numbers into their phones.

As they put their phones away and Ed turned to leave, Roy touched his metal hand – as gently as he would flesh, Edward noted – and his baritone voice was a heady purr that made Ed's knees weak as he spoke again, "See you tonight~"

o0o

That evening, Winry was returning to her dorm after class when she saw Ed leaving from his own – dressed in his "nice" goth-boy clothes: tight black jeans, a loose dark red shirt, and a tight black tank top underneath. Gunmetal chains and rings adorned his neck and fingers, respectively, and he looked to be in a hurry.

"Hey – where you headed?" she called after him curiously. Winry looked over his hair, and she nodded, impressed. "Your hair turned out great! Gracia did a good job."

Ed paused in locking his door, glancing over his shoulder, "Oh, uhh… Gracia actually wasn't there today, so someone else in the salon did the cut."

"Oh?"

He finished locking the door, pocketing his keys, "Yeah, another stylist was there – Roy?"

"Oh, Roy!" Winry exclaimed happily. "He's a sweetheart, isn't he?"

She saw Ed's cheeks flush a little, "Y-Yeah, he is." He cleared his throat, perking back up, "But hey, I gotta go. I, uh… have a date."

She waggled her eyebrows at him, "Oh yeah?"

Ed snorted at her, starting down the hall, "Oh, shut up."

Winry just laughed, watching him disappear around the corner before she pulled her phone out, dialing a certain number.

When they answered, she smiled as she spoke, "Hey, Gracia? I just wanted to let you know our plan worked like a charm…"

o0o