Deliver Me

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Chapter Six: Love

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When Edward woke again, it was to the deep sound of Roy's heartbeat. His ear was pressed against the man's chest, and he couldn't see anything through the haze of blonde that was his own hair. Lifting his head proved to be a challenge, and with a great effort, he sat up.

There were no sounds of booming thunder from outside. No constant pour of rain that was nearly solid. No signs of a storm at all.

In fact... He squinted at the light blue (Blue! Again! Everywhere he looked, BLUE!) curtains. Was that... sun streaming through them? Rubbing his eyes, it had never seemed more apparent. The storm had passed, but behind it, it had left more then a few wet streets.

His nose felt like it was going to fall off.

"Ugh..." He rubbed at his nose, sniffing pitifully. Damn. He couldn't stand being sick, all it did was slow him down.

There was a sound, Roy stirred and his eyes opened. He felt warm, far warmer than usual.

Shifting, he sat up and yawned. "Mmm." He mumbled, looking over at Edward. "You feeling okay? Hungry?"

He should make breakfast, he guessed.

"I can't breathe." Edward griped, voice just a little nasally.

His stomach grumbled for food. He hadn't eaten since before he'd left the house chasing after Ed. Yes, he was hungry. Very hungry. He felt like he could eat a cow, no sweat.

"I have something that could help that. There's a couple type of cold medicine in the bathroom."

He stood up, stretching his limbs as he started toward the door. "Help yourself, it's the door adjoining." He said as he left the room and walked toward the kitchen.

Groaning, Edward all but fell off the bed. Barely getting his feet under him in time, he looked around for the bathroom door.

Oh. There. Right next to the closet door and the window.

Gee. Roy was such a great help.

Edward nearly fell into the bathroom, head feeling like he'd split it on a brick wall. Clutching his forehead with one hand, he dug through the medicine cabinet with the other. "Ha!" He held his prize high, started to read the ingredients...

And could have cried.

"Expired!"

Roy could hear the cry of dismay from down the hall. He stuck his head out of the door, peering down the hall. Well, Edward wasn't going to get anywhere now. He didn't have any more medicine.

Cracking another egg, it sizzled on the frying pan and he flipped it over without breaking the yoke. On another was some bacon. "Food's almost ready." He said in somewhat of a loud voice. Dogs drooled beneath him, but he sent them back to their doggy bowls for their own food.

This was a tragedy. Yes, Edward Elric was going to sink into a depression over cold medicine.

Well, he wasn't, but his head really hurt!

Pulling out the tie to his braid, Edward scowled as he made his way to the kitchen. He combed through the strands with his fingers, beginning a looser braid in hope it would ease the pain in his temples.

The smell of food put an end to all of his other troubles. Bacon... He pulled himself up onto the stool he had sat at days before, elbows on the counter as he watched Roy cook.

Mustang wasn't THAT bad, he supposed. He could be a lot worse, Edward knew. He'd seen it. Experienced it. This Roy was mellow. Domestic.

It was actually a little frightening.

When the eggs and bacon were done, Roy pulled a couple plates from the cabinet beside the stove, flipping a couple eggs and a lot of bacon onto one plate. He placed it in front of Edward.

"Eat up." He said with a small grin, turning back to finish cooking his own.

Yes, the Mustang household ate hearty. That was why his pantry was half-full of dog food cans. And Roy had an excellent metabolism, to the envy of people around him.

Accepting the fork that was belatedly offered to him, Edward dug in with gusto. His stomach greatly appreciated the intake of eggs and bacon, and he was thankful when it made no move to reject the meal.

Wasting food was terrible. Like blasphemy in the church where bacon was a god, and eggs were the priests.

Mass would be very interesting in a church like that. 'We the free peoples of Breakfast Time...'

It was hard to think about your food having a church service when you were supposed to be eating it.

"Make sure you taste it." Roy said with a smirk, sitting beside him a moment later with his own plate and eating with a slightly lesser pace.

His ideal breakfast. Eggs and bacon, simple yet delicious.

He set down his fork and stood, going over to the refrigerator. "Milk, orange juice...?" He asked, looking over at his houseguest.

Edward twitched. Really, truly twitch. The fork slowed, and he swallowed before answering. "Orange juice." Milk... ugh.

Order taken, he started to eat again, though at a more sedated speed. Now that he'd started, gotten something in his stomach, he could relax a bit and enjoy the way it tasted.

Somehow, it didn't surprise him that Roy was a good cook.

Taking out a carton, Roy pulled two glasses from a cabinet opposite the stove and poured. He set one (carefully, as not to get his finger's eaten) beside Edward's plate before returning to his own.

Clearly Edward was hungry, he thought amusedly as he watched the boy out of the corner of his eye.

It was hard to eat while Roy was watching him. Edward was discovering that fact quickly. Swallowing his last bite, he took a drink of the orange juice and set it down.

"What?" He finally demanded, pushing away his empty plate. He could eat more, but his desire for food had been sated for at least twenty minutes.

"You eat like a horse." Roy commented, taking Edward's plate and standing up. "Do you want more?"

He could make more. Or something else. He never really cooked this much, usually he just made a food just for himself. It was refreshing to have to cook for another person.

"Yeah." Edward was still glaring. He was not a horse!

But, at least he hadn't been compared to a miniature pony. Then he would really have to make a fuss.

Roy could have added some kind of joke poked at Edward's height with the horse comment, but he figured it'd be best not to. Setting their plates beside the sink, he went over to the refrigerator and swung open the door in search of more bacon and eggs.

He swore softly. "Out of eggs." He said dimly, tossing the empty carton into the garbage. "But there's still bacon."

Taking out the still thick package, Roy peeled a few slices from the deli wrapped meat and heated up the frying pan again. Waiting for it, he sat down beside Edward to take a sip of his orange juice.

Even without the meat in the pan, the smell of bacon hung thick in the air. Edward sighed happily, leaning forward and resting both arms on the counter. He was still taking great delight in feeling things in his right arm. The way it fell asleep when he slept wrong, touching something soft... He was thrilled with paper cuts, as odd as it sounded.

It didn't seem weird that he was happy and comfortable in the presence of Roy Mustang. He hadn't given it much thought, still too relaxed from sleeping.

There was a small beep from the frying pan, Roy got up to start cooking the bacon. In a moment, it was frying and soon enough he'd slipped the meat onto Edward's plate and slid it over to him.

After doing so, he glanced up at the clock and grimaced. "I have work in an hour." He informed the boy. "So I'll be leaving. You can stay if you want, I'll put your clothes in the wash."

Work. Edward looked down at his plate and poked the bacon with his fork. It had only been three days, but he missed it. He missed the library, and the work...

He still hadn't tried to transmute without a circle. He was almost positive there was still enough metal in his blood. Having all of your nerves attached to automail brought a certain level of affinity with the metal itself. But he didn't want to try, and have it be a failure.

"It's just water..." Edward stabbed rather viciously at the bacon. "I'll be fine." The oddity of the situation was just beginning to hit him. He was in Mustang's house, his kitchen... wearing his shirt, and shorts. They'd spent the entire night in the same bed, and both of them were still alive.

Maybe he really was sick.

Roy nodded slowly, standing up. "I'll get dressed in my room, yours are still downstairs." He said before turning and starting out of the kitchen.

But, he turned and picked up his glass and drained it of orange juice before setting it beside the sink. Muttering his schedule that day to himself, he went back to his bedroom to track down his extra uniform.

Pushing aside his plate again, Edward groaned and dropped his head hard onto the table. Dammit, he was NOT doing this! He wasn't! He didn't want Mustang to stay, he wanted him to leave! And never, ever come back! That was what he wanted, not to...

No, it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Roy to stay, to blow off work and stay with him. He knew it, and he was sure that Roy knew it, too.

And that was wrong. He shouldn't want that. He was getting in way over his head, and he didn't know how to get out.

A few minutes later, Roy came back with a heavy sigh. "I don't have a spare uniform." He said with a sigh. "And going into work with a dirty and or less than presentable attire is the same as getting demoted."

He stood at the door, in much more casual clothing as he leaned against the frame. "So I'll be staying here."

A sudden rumble and a couple dozen dogs yapped, bunching around his ankles. "But they want to be walked."

Staying. Roy was staying. Edward knew he should be disappointed, and he raised his head with an expression that was anything but. And... wow. Roy did own clothing that wasn't blue.

"Where do you usually take them?" He slipped off the stool, intent on finding his pants. He had no intention of changing his shirts. No, Roy's was sigustingly comfortable, but he wanted his pants, at least.

"Everywhere." Roy said with a small smirk. "There's a park a ways down the street they like."

Noting Edward's lack of clothing, Roy pointed down. "Your pants are still in front of the fireplace. They should be dry by now."

He rubbed his eyes with a slight bit of irritation. "I'll meet you by the door." Roy said, heading over to the bathroom but didn't let the dogs follow him.

Edward watched him go, stretching with his arms so high that his back arched and his toes curled. Sighing as he came back down, he made his way on wobbly legs back to the room he'd fallen asleep in the night before.

As Roy had said, his pants were still on the floor, in front of the fireplace. Shaking them out, he tugged them on over his shorts. He found his socks and boots, pulling those on, too. Roy's shirt he left loose, and it hung almost all the way down to his knees.

It didn't take long for him to get to the door, and he snorted when Roy finally got there. "Took you long enough. Slowing down in your old age?"

Roy shrugged, standing in front of Edward. "I had to take out my contacts, they weren't staying right." He said, tipping his glasses.

Yes, the mighty Roy Mustang wore glasses. And looked damn sexy in them, he had to say.

Blinking several times, the sight didn't seem to register. Edward was staring quite blatantly, but he didn't seem able to look away.

The glasses were round, with thin wire rims. He was completely entranced, and he felt like an idiot for not looking away. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Let's go." He jerked his gaze away, turning to face the dogs, who were crowded by the door.

Pushing all the canines out the door, Roy tried his best to see if they were all there. So, he just asked. "Everybody here?"

Two yips and a meow announced that two puppies and a cat (guess who?) were coming outside. Smiling, Roy pointed down the street. "This way, let's go."

Meanwhile, the neighborhood watched as the every-so-often parade of dogs and Colonel Mustang began. It was amusing, to say the least, to watch their military figure of this part of the country direct dogs. But, oh! Looks like he had a young man with him as well!

Go Mustang!

The dogs continued to press close as they made their way toward the park, and every so often, Edward would find his arm brushing Roy's. He would jump at the contact and move away, trying to hide a blush he swore wasn't there. Then the dogs would press in again, and the cycle would repeat.

Edward's eyes locked on the park as they approached it, and he grinned at the sight of his favorite childhood toy. Swings! He loved swings!

Usually Roy sat at a bench and let the dogs play, read a newspaper or whatnot. But, he noticed, a mother was nursing her child at the bench he usually sat at.

Turning, he noted what Edward was staring and smiling at. Grinning himself, he took a small sidestep toward them and his hands curled around the metal loops as he sat down on the seat.

Then the rather famous (Flame Alchemist and Colonel of the Military) Roy Mustang started to swing.

He had to laugh at the sight of Mustang swinging, but that hardly stopped Edward from dropping into a swing of his own. He didn't begin a large swing like Roy had, just curled his fingers around the loops and let the shifting of his body ease the swing into a rocking movement.

He watched the dogs, occasionally pushing with one foot to lend to the swing's movement. This was a surprisingly peaceful moment. He didn't want to ruin it by saying anything.

Roy let his legs relax after awhile, the swing stopping slowly. He watched the puppies roll over each other and yip at each other, Ed watching amusedly with a twitch of his whiskers. There were the larger dogs running around and fighting over random sticks, children came up to play with them.

He had to smile, leaning over and resting his head on the rope of metal loops. He was really quite content, very happy actually. There was only one thing that he wanted to say, so he decided to just come out and say it.

"Edward," He said suddenly. "I love you."

One minute, Edward was pushing off from the ground with his toe. The next, he was flat on his back, trying to scramble up so he could stare at Roy. This was made difficult by the swing that kept tangling up his feet, but eventually, he rolled onto his side and stared wide eyed at his former commanding officer.

"What?" It was a breathless request for explanation, the information too much for Edward's brain to really comprehend.

Like he could deal with. Care for he could do. But love? Love wasn't just some baby step. It was a giant leap forward into serious relationship, and Edward was still under the impression that he couldn't stand Mustang, much less love him!

Roy blinked behind his glasses, leaning back to stare down at Edward. "Are you all right?" He asked, ignoring Edward's question for a moment.

It was odd to him that Edward hadn't figured that out yet. It was rather obvious, if he did say so himself. Sure, he had knocked Edward around a bit over the years.

"No!" How could he possibly be alright? Edward struggled onto his knees, not quite trusting himself to stand up.

Roy had just told him he loved him! How the hell could he just snap back into 'all right?' It was crazy! Insane! Impossible!

And absolutely perfect.

Edward groaned, burying his face in his hands as he shook his head.

Roy smiled slightly, turning and looking up so his eyes extended to the sky. Sure it had been a tiny bit of a bombshell to say the least, but Roy wasn't much into keeping his feelings under wraps.

Sighing, he glanced over at Edward again. "What's wrong with my loving you? It's not so bad, is it?"

"No! I mean, yes! Dammit, it should be!" Edward lowered his hands, using the chains on the swing to pull himself up.

This had to be a joke. Something. Roy was just kidding around, being a bastard... That had to be it. There was no way he would seriously... love...

Of course he wouldn't. It was crazy.

"Why should it?" Roy asked, rocking his legs back and forth so the swing moved a little. "It's not like I said, 'I love you, so you have to love me back'."

There was a loud cry of laughter as one of the larger dogs caught a stick in midair. Roy smiled as he watched, only half concentrating on the sights in front of him.

He was too caught up in sights beside him he couldn't look at.

Plopping himself backward in the swing, Edward kept his back to the dogs. He looked down at his hands, frowning deeply.

Alright, so Roy had a point. He hadn't been told he had to love back, or anything. He supposed... maybe it was okay, then. It wasn't like he couldn't walk away if he didn't like it.

Some little part of him reminded him that he wasn't walking.

Finally, Edward looked up. "Come here." He didn't wait for Roy's response, just turned in his seat and grabbed the chain of Roy's. He gave it a tug, pulling the other man to him and planting his lips firmly on his.

It was Roy's turn to be surprised, but he handled it a lot easier than Edward had. Instead, he drew up a hand to touch Edward's cheek and shut his eyes.

He hadn't expected any feelings to be returned so...this was wonderful.

All of a sudden he was angry at his glasses for pressing against his eyes as they were. Roy returned the kiss with eager yet soft affection. Yes, he did love Edward.

This was like the kiss in the rain, but dry. Edward let the kiss proceed slowly, pulling back only when he had to draw breath. His nose still wasn't cooperating, thick and completely useless.

At least his head had stopped aching.

"I don't love you," He told Roy bluntly, "But I can try to like you."

As if he didn't already. He didn't just go around sleeping in the same bed with someone he didn't like, or kiss them in the rain, and on swings... No, those were things he hadn't done with anyone before (Though he had been kissed. Really, he had!), and he wouldn't do them with someone he hated.

A slight look of surprise took Roy's expression, and then it melded into a smile. "Sounds good." He said, kissing Edward's cheek.

He turned again, swinging with a small knowing smile on his face. "You know what? I bet I'm going to catch your cold. Hopefully I won't start shrinking too."

A slight look of surprise took Roy's expression, then it melded into a smile. "Sounds good." He said, kissing Edward's cheek.

He turned again, swinging with a small knowing smile on his face. "You know what? I bet I'm going to catch your cold. Hopefully I won't start shrinking too."

Grumbling, Edward let go of Roy's swing and scowled at the trees. "Fuck you, Mustang."

"Oh, you like me that much already?"

Eyes narrowing, Edward shot him a glare. "No."

Roy sighed softly. "Oh well."

He thought for a second. "You know what? You're just like a cat." He decided, turning to stare at him.

The chain twisted above Edward's head as he turned, expression skeptical. "I think you are getting sick. You're delirious."

"I'm serious." Roy said, staring at him. "I thought so before, that's why I named that cat after you. But now I've seen even more catlike qualities besides your eyes and catty attitude. You purr in your sleep."

It'd been soothing, actually. A little rumbling sound that had lulled Roy to sleep.

"I do not!" Edward protested immediately, though, he really wouldn't know.

But, it was his pride that kept him from admitting that. He was determined to prove that he did not purr in his sleep, or anything else remotely embarrassing.

"Yes, you do."

"I do not, asshole! I changed my mind, I hate you!"

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End

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Suqua: huh. We ended up not writing a lemon for this. How..weird…O.o