Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Well, maybe Auric, but he's his own person in many ways. Not making any money from this. Love the idea of Ed and Roy. Please leave me a review if you like the story.
Author's Note:
Although my little AU uses the anime as its departure point, manga Ling Yao wanted in for some reason, so here he is. He may be a little OOC, but I don't think he's Greed. But I've been wrong before. Couldn't work the Roy and Ed conceit I wanted to convey in without him though, and he's good for a little humour, so indulge me. Review and let me know what you think, or Auric will go into a funk and we'll never get to that damned ball, and we're so close! So close!...
Chapter 32: King and Qilin
"Colonel?" Chief Warrant Officer Fury asked timidly as he tapped lightly on the open office door and leaned in, ready to run if the blonde alchemist behind the desk was in as bad a mood now as he had been when he had first come into the office. Fortunately, Fury had learned from experience years earlier with a certain other then-Colonel, who had also happened to be a State Alchemist, that an offering of coffee had a way of soothing ruffled feathers, and right now the Lieutenant Colonel was on his fourth cup. Black. As strong as Fury could make it without making a hole in the coffeepot.
"Not now, Chief," came a distracted voice from behind a mountain of paper. "Go ask Major Hawkeye about…whatever it is you want to ask me about. And give these to Captain Havoc for dissemination immediately," and a gloved hand waved vaguely at an overflowing outbox. Never let it be said that he wasn't focused when he had to be, even on paperwork, unlike another Colonel he could think of.
Fury obediently scooped up the mountain of papers. "She doesn't have the authority, sir, and it's kind of urgent. It's about the pre-inauguration diplomatic reception that starts…um…right about now?"
A gusty sigh, and a blonde head emerged as Edward Elric stood and stretched from behind the precariously teetering pile of maps and security plans he had been going over. "What is it? Make it quick – shit, wait a minute, I'm supposed to be at that reception, aren't I?"
"Yes sir, but that's the problem, we need you to escort one of the ambassadors in." Fury looked extremely frazzled. "He's refusing his current escort – says it's insulting to have Colonel Winchester escort him because the Colonel isn't a State Alchemist."
Ed muttered something about the ambassador's ancestry that Fury carefully opted not to hear. "Send Al. Now where did I leave my jacket…damn, I hate these formal uniforms, too many fiddly bits…aha!" He snatched the offending article off the floor where he had dropped it earlier, running a quick hand over the front to straighten the many ribbons Hughes had insisted had to be pinned on. As if the pins on the high collar, twisted into the same design that adorned his pocket watch, and the gold braid that trimmed every edge and facing weren't enough. In what had to be the universe's idea of equivalent exchange, his extremely rewarding night with Roy and subsequent romantic awakening, breakfast, and what had started out as a continuation of last night's exertions had been abruptly curtailed by an emergency summons to HQ for both the Fuhrer-elect and the Hero Of The People. He supposed it was only natural for everything to go wrong on the eve of the biggest State Event in at least a decade, but why did he have to get stuck with cleaning up logistical messes? Was there no one at HQ capable of keeping a level head under pressure? How did it fall to him, Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, Gatekeeper and all-around hothead to suddenly be the voice of reason? Damn it, he'd told Hughes he was a field agent, not a desk jockey. Al was so going to get it later for slipping off and leaving him to sort out all the security details on the pretext of having to "supervise" the transmutation of the pavilion that was to be the setting for tonight's formal inauguration ball…although it was also true that Ed would not have felt comfortable letting anyone else handle the security details given that he did have avested interest in keeping Roy alive in order to re-enact the previous night on a regular basis…but that really wasn't the point. And what the hell had Fury put in his coffee anyway - it was giving him the jitters and setting his teeth on edge. It hadn't helped in the least to have Roy send him off with nary a kiss or a touch as he'd gotten out of the car Maes had sent for them, although to be fair, he'd only been lecturing Roy about not traumatizing the younger men with open displays of possessive affection since…well…since the his most recent trip back from the Gate of Truth. That would make it two or three weeks now. But did the bastard have to pick the morning after to start following Ed's orders? He growled, an irritated noise that rolled up from somewhere a little further south than his gut that managed to be both frightening and incredibly seductive, although the latter interpretation certainly wasn't one that any of his subordinates were going to entertain for even a second. Immolation by jealous Flame Alchemist was a lousy way to go. And...and...
Perhaps he needed to cut back on the coffee.
"Sir…" Fury was wringing his hands as he shifted nervously from side to side. "The Earth Moving Alchemist is busy with the inauguration pavilion as you well know, and anyway, he's only a Major, sir. Has to be at least a half-Colonel."
"Hughes."
"He's not a State Alchemist, sir. And he's already in the reception hall."
"Armstrong."
Fury stared incredulously at the Fullmetal Alchemist. "Colonel Armstrong?"
Ed winced as he and Fury shared a moment, courtesy of the pink sparkles. "Forget I said that. Fine, I'll do it." He shoved his arms into his jacket unceremoniously, yanking his ponytail out the collar as he settled it about his shoulders and swiftly did up the fastenings, grimacing at the unaccustomed constriction caused by the stiff material of the formal uniform. Fury produced a lint brush out of nowhere and attacked the back of Ed's jacket with vigour, causing the young Colonel to raise an inquiring brow at him even as he swiftly patted himself down, checking to make sure his weapons were all in place. His heavy leather gauntlets wouldn't fit under the narrow sleeves, much to his annoyance, but throwing stars and points fit almost anywhere, and he'd insisted on substituting his sais for the ceremonial sword and gun belt. Two now rested easily in the back of his belt, hidden by his jacket, and Maes had mourned the ruination of the "line" he kept referring to whenever he eyed Ed's trimly clad figure. Having never been one to care much about his appearance, whether as Gatekeeper or alchemist, he didn't share the older man's qualms.
"The black dress uniforms show dust easily, sir," Fury offered sheepishly. "I've already had to brush General Mustang down twice, the diplomats' wives keep insisting on kissing him and leaving streaks of powder on his collar."
"Oh they do, do they?" and Fury squeaked because the Colonel's yellow eyes had abruptly narrowed in a way that indicated he was most definitely not amused. Ed turned sharply on his heel and strode down the corridor to the anteroom where the ambassador would be waiting. So. He didn't even warrant a buss on the cheek in parting and some hoity-toity uppity society matrons got to put their grouted and spackled faces and lips all over Roy just because they were married to Ambassadors? His fingers twitched and reached subconsciously for the weapons pressing into the small of his back. This day was going just peachy. "Is this one married?"
His face must have given his intentions away, because Fury paled visibly. "No, sir, he's actually about your age!" the bespectacled Chief called after the Colonel's retreating back. "And sir! Sir! Please don't hurt the guests! And no killing the ambassador. Or anyone!"
Ed deliberately walked a little faster. Maybe if he outpaced Fury, he could argue that he hadn't heard the man later. Plausible deniability and all that. He pivoted neatly on his heel as he turned down the next corridor and slammed open the door with one white-gloved hand, making the occupants of the room jump. All but for the tallest one, who turned in a swirl of brocaded robes and beamed at him in delighted recognition. Ed's mind temporarily went blank – although he did take note that the man was still taller than him by a half-head, damn it! - as he shook his head in disbelief and began to back out of the room.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no." He stifled a yelp as he bumped into Fury, who had displayed surprising prescience and stationed himself at the door to prevent just such an occurrence.
"Edward Elric! How wonderful! Yes, this escort will do," and the ambassador from Xing waved negligently at the Chief Warrant Officer, dismissing him from his presence. Fury shut the door discreetly in relief, but not before pointing the blonde Colonel meaningfully towards the double doors leading to the reception rooms, and only the knowledge that teleporting somewhere very, very far away from here would reveal his abilities to the Ambassador, and the fact that he could hear Roy's distinctive tones holding court in the next room, kept him from fleeing the scene. "It's been so long, Ed! How have you been? You certainly look well, apart from the wrinkles caused by all that scowling," and the affected pout in the man's voice made Ed roll his eyes even as Gatekeeper instincts kicked in, enabling him to force a glittering smile onto his face as he bowed fractionally to the flamboyant ambassador.
"Hello, Ling."
Ed was going to kill Al for weaselling out of this one. And Maes, for putting him in this uniform. And Fury, for sticking him with Ling. And Havoc, just on principle. And…no, Hawkeye was probably out of bounds. And Roy…Roy was going to pay for…well…something. Because he just knew that this was somehow Roy's fault. Somehow, someway, Roy was going to get his.
Roy glanced over from across the room as if he had read Ed's thoughts. He looked far more at ease in this gathering than Ed felt, dark eyes sparkling with hidden amusement and affection as he met Ed's glowering tawny gaze, lips quirking momentarily as he inclined his head courteously in acknowledgement of Ed's belated presence and increasing level of irritation before turning back to the fat Cretan ambassador who had evidently been at the refreshments table a little too enthusiastically, judging from the increasingly violent swaying. The stout State Alchemist nominally in charge of escorting the man and his entourage looked mortified as the Fuhrer-elect excused himself to greet a few newcomers, politely ignoring the ambassador's gauche behaviour, and Ed had to admit that it could be worse - at least his charge for the next hour or so was sufficiently well-bred to conduct himself appropriately, being the twelfth son of the Emperor of Xing, Heir to the Throne of the Yao clan, etcetera. Or was Ling the fifteenth? He'd never been very good with meaningless titles.
"Edward…you're ignoring me," came a whine, and Ed revised his previous opinion immediately. The man was a pain in the ass, and literally royal, too. Did he ever stop talking? But since he was stuck with him, and for Roy's sake, he would try to be…cordial. His stormy expression softened as he allowed his eyes to wander possessively over the Flame Alchemist's elegant figure, trying to decide if he liked the man better in or out of uniform. The latter state definitely had its perks, but the former wasn't half bad, he thought contentedly, whether it be in the black formal uniform he was wearing now or his usual blue. Although the black heightened the contrast between Roy's pale skin and dark hair, and somehow brought out the midnight blue of his eyes. A petulant tug on his sleeve brought his wandering mind back to the current company, however, and while it had dark hair and exotically tilted eyes much like Roy's…it simply wasn't him.
"How may I be of service, Excellency?" Ed inquired evenly. The hilts of his sais pressed mockingly into his back as he clasped his hands firmly behind him – if he was holding on to himself, he couldn't very well strangle Ling now, could he? "The Fuhrer-elect will no doubt make his way over in good time, I assure you. In the meantime, perhaps you should mingle with the company? I believe the ambassador from Aerugo has been looking forward to paying his respects. Or have you tried the canapés? You're not paying for them after all," he jibed, recalling the way the ambassador had always sponged off him at meals whenever they had run into each other on their respective travels. For someone who was supposed to be royalty and therefore rich, Ling was a tight-fisted bastard…and he stomped on the smirking little thought that Roy was too, in a completely different sort of way. Mind out of gutter, damn it, he groaned at himself. Shit. He'd forgotten – or Auric had – what it was like to feel besotted in the initial stages of taking a lover – all you ever wanted to do was to touch them for at least the next few days and bask in that heady glow – he really should have waited until after all this nonsense to bed Roy, because the man was addictive; he could tell already from the way his traitorous mind kept inserting fragmentary flashbacks – a brush of skin, the burning warmth of a kiss, the gut-wrenching memory of scent and taste – into his thoughts every other minute or so. Bugger all…and he kicked himself for using the expression as it started up again. Shit. He hoped he wasn't blushing.
"So formal, Ed?" sighed Ling as he stared at this acquaintance of his teenaged years. "You're no fun anymore. Where's Al? He was always nicer. Does he still stomp around in that silly suit of armour though?" For some reason, Ed was looking a little strained – the past four years couldn't have been easy ones. But he had grown – not much, to be sure, but some – and he certainly had blossomed. The colour was high in his cheeks, and Ling wondered if Ed had any idea of his sexual attractiveness – the man had to be, it was washing off him in waves, and all these silly women kept finding excuses to pass by the oblivious young officer. Oh, wait. Oblivious. Right. Ed probably hadn't noticed a thing, if his childhood obsessiveness was still with him – it tended to blind the Fullmetal Alchemist to just about everything else. Hmm. Perhaps it was time to enlighten Ed…and if that meant Ling got a little something out of it, well, at least it would liven up the dreariness of all this diplomatic pomp. No wonder his father had been more than happy to pack him off in his stead – the old man might be Emperor, but he loathed this sort of thing.
"People grow up, Ling," Ed bit off testily. "And no, Alphonse has shed his armour. He's married now, with a daughter." Maybe if he threatened to transmute all of Hughes's photos of Alicia into toilet paper, he could persuade the man to move the inauguration up? To, say, right now? Anything to escape this…this….
"Really?" the ambassador asked interestedly. "So little Al's gotten himself a woman." There was a pause, and then the man continued, almost too casually, "How about you? Aren't you looking to settle down yourself? Or are you playing the field? With your looks, who could blame you?"
Ed froze. Ling had sounded almost…sultry. And the weighing look in his eyes…oh no. No, no, no, no, no. He did not need this on top of everything else. "My duties to the Fuhrer-elect keep me very busy, Excellency. And I am young yet to be considering settling." Now settling down with Roy, on the other hand, wasn't even a consideration. It was simple fact. However, Ed saw absolutely no need to enlighten the nosey princeling on his private life.
Ling shrugged elaborately, tossing his long dark ponytail. "All work and no play, Ed. You're too…goal-oriented," and he said it as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Then again, I suppose one has to be working for a man like your Fuhrer-to-be. Roy Mustang's reputation is known even in Xing, you know – as is yours. Roy – such a boring name. But singularly appropriate -it means king, you know. The regal one. He certainly looks it," and Ling's tone had turned dispassionate, almost clinical. "Pity about his birth – I heard he's illegitimate, did you know? His father's some noble or another – but it's obvious he owes his looks to some Xinganese blood," and Ling preened ostentatiously. Ed stoically ignored him as he did his best imitation of Alphonse as a suit of armour, eyes forward and face expressionless. The ambassador pouted again at being ignored, then abruptly brightened up. "And then there is your name. Very appropriate given your duties."
Ed stifled a groan. Ling was still as garrulous as ever, and it seemed that he was intent on continuing to bend Ed's ear on this topic. The man could not take a hint. "Fine, I'll bite. What does my name mean?"
"Why – blessed guard or guardian. Another translation would have it mean 'rich guard', but in that case I would have to assume it was a reference to your colouring, golden one," and Ling's eyes flicked meaningfully to Ed's hair, one hand reaching out to smooth Ed's cowlick down and tuck a stray strand of gold behind a ear. Ed bit his lip and tried not to flinch. "Fetching when you were little and stunning now," and the blatant invitation in the ambassador's voice as he eyed Ed meaningfully made the blonde alchemist wish he could put Ling's head through a wall. People were turning to look at the pair he and Ling made, and the level of conversation went up as speculation began to run rampant.
Don't hurt the guests. Don't kill the ambassador, Ed chanted mentally in his head. He wondered if there was a clause that permitted one to claim outraged modesty as a reason for inflicting bodily harm. "Thank you," he gritted out, swallowing the instinctive urge to scream something about his height, a flea and a bar of gold. "Nice weather we're having today, isn't it – eep!" and the last embarrassing squeak coincided with Ling's hand brushing against his butt meaningfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roy turn sharply, the man's face darkening as he took in Ed's flushed face and Ling's lasciviously smirking one. How had he not seen that one coming? The Gatekeeper within him was hugely chagrined at being so distracted as to allow this to happen, and he continued to berate himself as he tried to edge away discreetly. See, this is why the Guild proscribes getting emotionally involved – it's a dangerous weakness, a small voice piped up.
"You're cute when you're blushing," murmured Ling, breaking into the turmoil in Ed's mind, and those words, words Ed certainly did not want to hear from anyone but Roy, which he had just identified as a weakness, and certainly not Ling, which was a different sort of problem, were the last straw to the Gatekeeper's sorely tested patience. Auric was generally easy going, but this had been a trying day thus far. In one smooth motion, the blonde drew his sais and had one to Ling's throat and the other at his bodyguard's before the latter could even bring out a weapon. The two Xinganese stood stunned, and Ling's eyes narrowed appraisingly at Ed's obvious speed and skill with the weapons.
"Grope me again, and you'll wish I were ignoring you, Ling." Ed spoke in normal tones, but the lopsided smile he turned on the ambassador was anything but. "Now, this is supposed to be a nice, diplomatic reception. So we're all going to be nice and diplomatic. And then I'm going to swear my bastard General in. And then you're going to acknowledge him as Fuhrer. And then we're all going to a nice inauguration ball where we're all going to be incredibly nice and polite to each other. And then you're going to go back to Xing. And at no time during those events are you going to so much as think about breathing on me or I will hurt you. Are we quite clear on that?" He glared pointedly at the ambassador with eyes of molten gold in which smouldering embers of anger burned, but retained the presence of mind to flick his gaze warningly Roy's way, stopping the Flame Alchemist in his tracks. I can handle this. You take care of diplomacy, I'll take care of…other stuff, and once again Roy displayed an unerring ability to read minds – or was it only Ed's? - because he pursed his lips briefly before nodding imperceptibly and turning back to the room to subtly assert his presence, drawing attention back to him and away from the little altercation between the Fullmetal Alchemist and the ambassador from Xing. Ed had to suppress the thought that it actually felt good knowing that he had…no, he owned that supremely attractive man body and soul, and a small grin at the way Roy trusted him crept onto his face as a bubble of warmth seemed to form in his chest. The bodyguard attempted to use Ed's momentary distraction to reach for a weapon, but stopped short when the blade at her throat wavered meaningfully. Ed turned his head back to the Xinganese. "I wouldn't do that. Not that it would trouble me, particularly, but blood is so hard to get off the carpet, even with alchemy, you know?" and the off-hand manner in which he spoke told them volumes about his seriousness, despite the fact that he had not yet raised his voice.
Ling finally spoke again, his dark eyes gone narrow and appraising as they darted thoughtfully between Ed…and the Fuhrer-elect. While he too kept his volume in check, his voice suddenly seemed deeper and more authoritative. "Put the weapons away, Fullmetal Alchemist. You have my word that nothing of this nature will happen again" and the use of his title and the sudden sombre sincerity he could feel washing off Ling made Ed comply slowly. The man's face had gone pensive, all traces of his prior petulance wiped clean in an instant as he seemed to come to some kind of realization. "Colonel Elric…you…have you ever heard of a qilin?"
"What?" Ed shook his head irritably. What on earth was Ling playing at now? The man's ability to wander off on tangents seemed unparalleled. "No, Excellency, I have not." There was a sharp intake of breath as Ling's bodyguard stared at Ed, wide-eyed, gone in an instant from hostile to…awed?
"Indulge me for a moment then. In my land, a qilin is a mythical beast, a little like your unicorn," Ling said, clasping his hands behind his back as he rocked back and forth in thought. "It is said only to appear in areas ruled by a wise and benevolent leader – some even say its appearance is a sign that a new ruler has been found, and that it is a manifestation of the Mandate Of Heaven – the right to rule, do you understand? To see one, to be in its presence is a great honour, and it is accorded the highest respect."
Ed nodded warily. He had heard vague references to that concept in his travels, and it made sense that the prospective heir to the throne of Xing would know of such things. Ling was starting off into space as he put his thoughts together. "The qilin is a merciful beast, but it punishes evil ruthlessly with fearsome power. Some legends even say all kings have a qilin by their side, to guide their conscience and remind them of their duty to the land. The bond is unbreakable, except by death, or if the king loses his way – becomes cruel, or weak, or fails his people in some other way - and thus loses the Mandate Of Heaven. The qilin would sicken and die, and the king would fall soon thereafter. Unshakable trust, and some say love, is the core of the relationship between a king and a qilin – the latter is unfailingly loyal unto death, and the former will do everything in his power to protect his qilin – and by extension, the country."
"Fascinating," Ed muttered, resisting the urge to check his pocket watch to see how much longer he would have to endure Ling's presence. "Forgive me, Excellency, but I fail to see your point."
Ling cocked his head to one side and smiled kindly, suddenly looking much more like the Prince of Xing that he was. "Isn't that your Fuhrer-elect over there? The one you referred to as, and I quote,'my bastard General'? Interesting choice of possessive pronoun, is it not?"
Had he? Ed ran his words over rapidly in his mind. Damn. Ling was a lot sharper than he made himself out to be. And Ed himself was definitely slipping. "That wasn't…what I meant was, he's…."
"Look at him, Ed," Ling's voice was somehow compelling, and Ed slowly turned his not-unwilling eyes towards Roy, who looked up from across the room as he felt Ed's gaze settle on him. Their eyes locked, and suddenly Ed couldn't look away, the sensation of slowly falling into the warm velvet darkness of Roy's eyes overwhelming everything else, blotting out the sounds of the people chattering away about them, the room itself, everything but Roy standing there, a sloe-eyed vision carved in alabaster, a faint look of concern crossing his face as he raised a brow that looked as though it had been inked in with a fine brush. Edswore he could feel Roy's voice ghosting lightly across his mind asking if everything was all right, and he was barely able to nod, his hands clenching into fists by his side as he fought for control, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times as he struggled to find something to say to break the spell. Roy frowned slightly, then excused himself from the group of fawning dignitaries he had been entertaining and began to make his way over to Ed, his eyes flickering over briefly to Ling before coming back to Ed's stunned face and parted lips.
"He is your king. And you are his qilin, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero Of The People," and the words breaking into Ed's thoughts, coming as they did in Ling's lightly accented, yet flawless Amestrian, seemed to carry a greater weight and meaning than a mere statement of fact. Ed tore his eyes away from Roy, cursing mentally as he felt his face warm with telltale heat, and looked at Ling in wonder as the façade of the harum-scarum young prince of Xing he remembered fell away suddenly to reveal a man with wise eyes and a wistful smile. "Your Fuhrer is indeed honoured by Heaven to have one such as you by his side."
"The honour is mine to serve." The formal words fell easily from Ed's lips, though he could not have said why. They seemed right, and Ling nodded as if he had expected nothing less. Behind him, his bodyguard had fallen to her knees and was prostrating herself on the floor.
"I will make my official congratulations to him after the ceremonies, but here and now, while I am honoured by a private audience with the qilin of Amestris, may I say: the kingdom of Xing sends its felicitations to the state of Amestris upon the ascension of its new ruler with the Mandate Of Heaven – and the reappearance of its qilin after four years. Rule long. Rule well. Never forget the people." And Ling folded his hands into his full sleeves and made a deep reverence to Ed.
The room full of diplomats had mostly fallen silent, noticing the intense nature of the conversation between the Fullmetal Alchemist and the powerful ambassador of Xing. An invisible barrier of good manners kept anyone from venturing close enough to overhear the conversation, but a gasp ran around the room as the ambassador actually bowed low before the young blonde officer.
"Ling…Excellency…you really shouldn't…" murmured Ed embarrassedly, aware of the stir they were causing, and of Roy's eyes burning a hole into the back of his neck. His childhood acquaintance straightened easily, a boyish grin on his face.
"Ah, but it was worth it to see you blush so!" and in the merry laugh that followed, the old Ling could be seen peeking out through his eyes. But he instantly sobered as Ed made to return the gesture, holding out a hand. "No, Edward, that would be wrong." And before Ed could ask why, Ling's dark eyes had travelled over his shoulder to meet Roy's equally dark ones that held a challenge of a very primal sort in their depths. The ambassador returned his gaze to Ed's face, tracing over his features as if to etch them into memory, then smiled again, a benevolent expression that somehow managed to embody both acceptance and amusement. "A qilin only bows to his king. And if I'm not mistaken…you have a very possessive king." And with that, Ling nodded and moved off tactfully as Roy crossed the room towards Ed with grim purpose in every footstep. Ed rolled his eyes and discreetly waved off a panicky looking Fury – the little man looked like he was about to have apoplexy at the prospect of his Fuhrer creating a diplomatic incident by torching the ambassador from Xing.
"Ah, Fullmetal. What was all that about?" Roy's expression never wavered from its pleasant configuration as he nodded to a couple of new arrivals. The look in his eyes, however, was anything but, and his stance was unmistakably possessive as he folded his hands behind his back and stepped closer than was absolutely necessary towards the blonde alchemist.
"Not now, General," Ed hummed warningly as he smiled brightly at a passing female dignitary whose bulk far exceeded the amount of fabric that had been used to make the peculiar garment she was wearing. "I'll explain later. Wouldn't want you to get a fat head even before you'd even been inaugurated. Don't do anything stupid now, Ling was just…making an observation. About us. And by the way, bastard, I am so never bowing to you. You can put that out of your mind right now. Never happening. Nope."
Roy arched a brow eloquently in the interrogative, but decided to mollify his young lover by deliberately not pointing out that Ed had already bowed to him last night. Several times, in fact. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders as Ed discreetly brushed his arm with his own, Roy wanting the contact as badly as the younger man did. "Just tell me you're not planning to run off to Xing with him. Or tell me, so I can roast him now."
Ed smirked. It did feel good to be wanted. "So what if I am?"
"I'm wearing my gloves and the lighter's in my pocket. And I'm very, very good at what I do," and Roy's voice dropped to a sultry purr that was a gentle yank on the leash, a reminder and a promise.
Ed bit his lip to keep from grinning at the double entendre, although the look in his eyes as they slid over Roy's uniform meaningfully was acknowledgement enough. "Is that what that is? I thought you were just happy to see me."
Roy curbed the urge to look down and check the lines of his uniform to make sure he wasn't embarrassing himself, instead glancing casually across at their reflections in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors in the salon. No, everything looked fine, no unsightly bulges in odd places. "Please don't scale everything down to fit your pint-sized version of the world, Fullmetal. Perhaps further…exposure would broaden your horizons."
"Who the hell are you calling a pint-sized pigmy so small he wouldn't tip the scales even if there was nothing but air on the other side and wouldn't be seen against the horizon without a telescope?"
Roy smiled serenely and resisted ravishing Ed senseless in the middle of the salon. While it would be gratifying, having to pay for the medical costs of all the guests who might pass out in shock, or envy, or lust would be ridiculously expensive, and he'd only just managed to balance the budget this morning.
From across the room, Ling watched the pair banter with an indulgent smile. Ah well, not quite the epiphany he had initially intended to give Ed, but one far more important instead. King and qilin indeed. Would that he might find his qilin someday – a conscience, a partner, a friend…and if Ling was any judge of people, and he was, a lover as well. But for now, he was still the twelfth son of the Emperor of Xing and heir of the Yao clan, and he had a job to do. Snatching a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, he turned back to the little group that had gathered about him and summoned up a dazzling smile.
"Yes, pleasant weather we're having, indeed."
