Truest Chemicals

Originally, Roy had wanted to wait until later before seducing Edward Elric. But time – and hormones – just weren't cooperating with him.

It wasn't an emotional thing, and he wanted to make that clear from the get-go. Oh, he knew he had a weak spot an acre wide when it came to the Elric kyoudai, but he wouldn't sleep with Hagane just because he had some delusions about what he was feeling. No, Roy was pretty firmly anti-delusional. Which left him with this: Edward was very, very enticing. He absolutely loved that small frame of his, craved to run his hands down those slender hips and perfect, muscled torso, and found it vastly amusing that Edward himself seemed to find it shameful.

And then Alphonse had his body returned to him, and Roy had rather different things to think about than office interludes and fraternizing with the most tempting National Alchemist he'd ever met. Besides himself, of course.

First of all, he'd yet to see anything more endearing than Alphonse stumbling around in those first few days – weeks – of his return. He'd marveled at every texture, every color and emotion, and he'd veritably hung onto his brother's arm. It had rejuvenated a hope and drive in Roy that had floundered with Hughes' death to see such a far-flung dream realized, and so vividly. That he'd seen them go almost every step of the way, witnessed their tenacity, made the triumph only sweeter.

But it wasn't long before the younger of the Elrics regained his footing, so to speak. He was extremely resourceful and adaptable, after all. And there's where troubles began.

He found Edward in the library. As usual. It was where he looked first, after all, and Roy wasn't usually wrong about the habits of his underlings.

Or at least, he hadn't thought he was. He was starting to wonder about that from the expression on Edward's face.

The anger wasn't anything new, or not when it was directed at the annoying Mustang-taisa. What was new was the set to the features before Hagane had noticed his commanding officer: desperation, uncertainty, longing, sadness. He had not doubt he felt them, but he'd never seen him display them so vibrantly before, and that was unsettling.

"What do you want?" scowled Edward, in true form. Roy noted that he didn't seem any different than usual from when he was interrupted in a particularly engrossing book. But his eyes hadn't been flickering over the pages, and the book was one he'd seen Edward read many times before. It was a thesis written by an old, nearly forgotten, infamous alchemist. Infamous because he defied the church of his time and country to discover the basis for today's generally accepted knowledge on human transmutation. The thesis, however, wasn't a particularly important one. Instead, it was philosophy, and once Roy had discovered him reading it so much he had had to read it for himself.

"What I always want," replied Roy in such a convincing display of innocence that Edward's scowl transformed into a deep sulk. For his part, Roy didn't try too hard to hide his smirk as he took the chair across from Ed. The nineteen-year-old folded his arms, huffed, and looked away. He'd long ago given up on trying to dissuade Roy by seeming to read a book or something. No, that only made it more torturous in the end.

"And that's, what, to pester the hell out of researching alchemists? Not very beneficial to your progress, now is it?" Edward had gotten better over the years at this subtle game of thrust and parry, Roy had to admit. But it wasn't a natural talent; it was a learned one, and that meant he still had weaknesses. Big ones.

"And what progress would that be?" he asked easily. "It couldn't be anything important, not with what you're reading."

Truest Chemicals was not as generally accepted as the rest of Hawthorne's teachings. In fact, it was scorned.

Ideas about the real nature of human souls, the effects life had on it, and the group consciousness all living things shared were not particularly enamored by the general populace when they preached acceptance of everyone. Including all races, sexualities, lifestyles, and religions.

Which made it very fascinating indeed that Edward Elric thought it worthy of multiple rereads.

The alchemist's reply was told in a light, seemingly casual voice. Roy could easily read the underlying disconcertion. "You object to what the book says, Taisa?"

"Not at all. Merely wondering why you're sitting here and not out with Alphonse-kun. Isn't that what you usually do on Saturdays?" It'd been some months since the actual transmutation, but that didn't mean Al and Ed were any less attached at the hip. But maybe Roy was missing something; it'd happened before, much as he didn't like to admit it. But not admitting things to yourself – and to many others – was very dangerous, and as a general rule he tried to be as safe as possible.

"Not today, apparently." To someone who knew Edward well (and Roy liked to think he did), the hurt was evident. Along with the intense sulking.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because Winry wants to take him to the culture festival, that's why!" It was told just a bit too loudly, and the echo resounded in their minds, though not the library. Alchemists were never that flippant in the halls of knowledge.

"And you aren't with them because...?" Maybe he wouldn't have to taunt to get an answer this time. He wondered if they'd progressed that far in their relationship yet, and rather hoped they had.

"Winry wants some time alone with Al. Says I hoard him to myself." The scowl seemed to be a permanent feature, and deep set in the lines of his face.

Ah. An old argument, then. "You have been rather... ah, inseperable of late," said Roy delicately, though he made sure to add, not hastely, "But that's completely understandable, of course."

He was looked at with scrutiny, to make sure he wasn't mocking; this was soon replaced by smugness and triumph. "Ha! I told them that."

"Them?" He found it hard to believe that Alphonse would side against his brother, but more unexpected things had happened.

Immediately his expression faded into regret and more sulking, plus... was that a shadow of... guilt? "Al said that... That I have to share him. That I can't just have him all to myself." Edward said the word as if secretly horrified, like the mere concept was pure sacrilege. To Ed, Roy supposed it was, and this time he couldn't be amused. Not with the desperation so clearly etched in him.

He didn't give him a spiel about how as people grow older and they grow apart. Somehow, he didn't think that would be a problem with the Elrics, and it would have been disrespectful. Roy was hardly lacking in respect for them. "That's true, Hagane. But he's not about to ignore you completely, or discard you. Don't tell me you'd expect that of your brother, because I won't believe it," he said with a vaguely disappointed look.

A faint grimace. "Of course I'm not. But..." He hesitated.

Roy looked slightly bored – deliberately. "But what?"

The scowl returned with a vengeance, and Ed said with a flare of anger, "But what if he keeps going off with Winry like that?!" With sudden clarity Roy saw exactly what the problem was, where the real question lurked. It wasn't some petty childhood fear of losing his brother to his friend, or of an unlikely future marriage. No, it was: What if he doesn't need me anymore?! Then... what will I have left?

For all his subtlety and knowledge, and for all his attempts at convincing him... Roy didn't make a change in the Fullmetal Alchemist's mood that day. And he loathed himself for it.

That, he'd regret to learn, was only the beginning.

It wasn't so much that Edward and Alphonse were drifting apart, but rather that Edward feared that they would so much that it almost came to pass. Roy said almost, because for all the evidence he'd seen to the contrary recently, he couldn't imagine it actually happening.

As it turned out, he was right.

He supposed it was only to be anticipated that Alphonse was impatient for more experiences, and Edward was never patient to begin with. And he also supposed that, since they turned to each other first in every other thing, they'd do it in this, too.

But wondering and seeing were too totally different things, as Roy found out the day he curiously peered in their home's window before entering. What he got was an eyeful, and one he was enjoying very much. Strangely, the lack of sound – for voices couldn't penetrate the thick glass of the windows – only made it all the more appetizing.

Alphonse had his tongue down Edward's throat, and Roy knew it was that way and not the other way around by the dark flush to Edward's cheeks. Their position helped, too. The older brother was against the back of the couch, almost kneeling on the cushions, one arm bracing him as the other looped around Al's back to clutch and scratch with desperation. It seemed that Alphonse was merciless to his brother's plight, however, for he merely held onto his sides with determined strength, eyes fluttering open and closed with concentration. Desire, fiery from youth and suppression, painted both their faces dynamic colors that Roy loved to watch. Not about to be outdone, Edward slid his hand down Al's pants and undoubtedly began to fondle from the abrupt parting of their mouths and evident gasp. The round circle of Alphonse's lips, cheeks smudged with pink, was apparently too much for his brother to resist, for Edward wasted no time in licking and nibbling. Not that Roy thought he would.

It was exactly how he'd thought each would be in bed, and the sight made him most assuredly aroused.

Well. Perhaps those fantasies of threesomes weren't quite as fantastical as they'd seemed when he'd dreamed them up.

Things were looking very auspicious all of a sudden, and Roy's day suddenly seemed much, much brighter. To say nothing of his life in general.

The next day, he scared half his staff into wondering who he'd had in bed the night before by the wide grin on his face.

Little did they know that it'd take quite a few more months to persuade either of the Elrics into Roy's bed, because where one went, so went the other.

And that was perfectly fine with him.