A/N- This was originally written for LJ's fma_fic_contest for the prompt "Wedding." As you know, FMA is definitely not mine.
Roy Mustang checked his hair yet again. Despite the liberal use of pomade, the one lock in the middle of his forehead insisted on falling in his face. Well, it would just have to do. Maes was lucky that Roy had wrestled his hair into as neat a style as he had. He wouldn't have done it for just anyone. His messy hair was a sort of badge of honor to him. A small symbol of the huge rebellion that lived in his heart. But, for this one day, for his best friend's wedding, he would act the perfect soldier to be the perfect Best Man. He centered his cap on his head.
Back in Ishval, he had worried that this day would never come. Whenever Maes had babbled on about his wonderful Gracia waiting for him at home, Roy had been sure that a bullet or a bomb would come out of nowhere and blow that crazy head open. He had especially hated it when Maes had gone on about his future right before a mission. How many times had told Maes that it would provoke the Fates? How many times had he begged Maes not to talk of happiness? He'd spat three times and knocked on wood after each Maesian rant, knowing that it would not be enough to save the man. He had felt ill every time until his friend returned safely. Maes had called him a superstitious goof. He had insisted to Maes that they were prudent precautions. There were just certain things that science couldn't explain.
But, somehow, they'd both made it through. Roy knew exactly what having survived the war meant to him. He didn't deserve happiness. One did not have to understand equivalent exchange to understand that. He didn't deserve atonement or forgiveness, either. The scales would never be balanced, but he would do what he could to remove the corruption in Amestris' government. Maes couldn't quite get what that meant to Roy's personal life- that there could be none. He wished that Hughes would stop urging him to find his own (nearly as perfect as Gracia) wife. Hawkeye had been invited to the wedding, Roy was sure more as a date for him than for any other reason. But Maes was all in so far as the rest of it went. They had to make a better world. It wouldn't help the ones that they had murdered, but it would help the survivors and the innocent young.
Roy checked his dress uniform, tugging at the hem of the jacket and glanced at his new Lieutenant Colonel's stars. It disgusted him that he had been rewarded for killing, but his plan required that he rise higher in the military. He didn't care who thought that he was an aggressively ambitious womanizer. He wanted to be underestimated. He was pretty sure that Bradley wasn't fooled, but that just meant that he must not underestimate the Fuhrer.
He checked his pocket for the ring and walked to the car. When he got to Maes' place early, the eager groom was already waiting outside, grinning like his face would split.
As he and his best friend walked into the sanctuary, Roy couldn't remember the last time that he had smiled. What reason should he have to smile? But he did smile for Maes and slapped him on his back. And he was tremendously happy for Maes. It was almost too good to be true, but his beloved friend was going to get that happily ever after that he dearly wanted.
A/N- Thank you for reading. Take care!