Yay day 3! This one has actually been in progress for over a year, but I didn't have a graeat time to post it. Now is that time! Enjoy!
Soulmates.
Everybody since the beginning of humanity had one, according to any historian that mattered in Amestris. In any etiquette class, children learned the importance of keeping a soulmark hidden from the public eye because of its private sacredness. For most, this was a fairly simple feat, as the soulmark usually resided on the chest, stomach, or upper arm area. However, for some, this proved to be a struggle.
For Roy Mustang, the struggle was very real. His soulmark rested squarely on the top of his right hand. It wasn't a small mark, either. The mark was a very intricate alchemical-looking design, runes and all. All his life, except for when he was very young, Roy had had to wear gloves out in public, as his family was of the strictly traditional variety. No manner of soulmark was acceptable to be seen by anyone but it's owner and their soulmate.
When he and Maes joined the military, he was less under the scrutiny of his parents. Therefore, he could have, by all means, shed the gloves and rebelled against his childhood structure. However, he found fire alchemy rather convenient when applied to spark-inducing fabric, so gloves became his defining feature as a State Alchemist.
Only now, as Mustang sits in his cabin in the middle of a snowy wasteland with no will to perform the alchemy that he loved, does Roy shed the gloves to stare blankly at his soulmark. They say that, no matter what, soul mates will find each other eventually. There had been no record inAmestrian history of one person with a soulmark not finding their match. Roy chuckled grimly at the notion that he may very well be the first.
Edward Elric hadn't needed to worry about hiding his soulmark- it was on his chest. He thought his mark looked really cool, as it was pretty much a transmutation circle. No, his qualms lay with everyone around him being so damn fortunate with their soulmates, while he was stuck wondering.
Al and Winry had known that they shared a soulmark since the second Al was born. Their mark was one of the simpler ones- a small heart shape with a considerably intricate set of swirls encasing it. Al's was on the side of his waist and Winry's was on her ankle- both very easily concealable, not that it mattered much. For the residents of Resembool, farming was simply more important than the utmost adherence to the confines of etiquette. As a child, Ed couldn't care less about the array-like design shared by only one other.
However, when he became a teenager, Ed liked to think about who could be on the other end of the metaphorical string that tied he and his soulmate together. Of course, getting Al's body back was completely more important, but if he were on a train or drowning out Mustang's complaints about his 'poor conduct', Ed would imagine who his soulmate might be.
In Munich, and throughout the other world Ed ended up in, soulmarks didn't exist.
Ed had figured this out when, after taking a shower, he was reconnecting his Hohenheim-made automail. Alfons Heiderich had walked in and commented on how he had an 'interesting tattoo' on his chest.
Ed was very confused, as he had assumed his friend would understand that it was a soulmark, but he didn't correct him out of the fear of humiliation. Later, after conducting a series of little researches, Ed came to the understanding that people in that world simply found permanent love connections on their own, with no assistance from fate (as if this strange dream-world couldn't get any stranger).
~Winter, 1919 (Amestris' time)~
It snowed violently up North. Roy's fire was dwindling, and he had been saving his firewood, as anything outside would be far too wet to use. He was on the second-to-last log of the night, sitting very close to the dying flames with his half-assed attempt at soup in a bowl beside him.
The wind howled so viciously that he barely heard the weak knock at his door and the muffled, "Help, please!" of a tired, pained voice.
When he did hear, however, he stood up quickly to save whoever it was from the wild storm.
The doorknob's chill bit against his bare hands as he yanked the door open, allowing a bundled-up figure to practically fall into the house.
At his feet, bleeding in various places and shivering violently, lay Edward Elric. The blonde's eyes were clenched shut from pain, and he was grabbing at the top of his automail shoulder like he wanted to rip it off.
"Edward!" Roy exclaimed, shutting the door immediately and sitting down to inspect what had happened to his former subordinate.
Ed only responded with a series of groans, clearly losing consciousness. Roy panicked, as he really had never been in a snow accident situation in his entire time at the post (nobody every really tried to act out, favoring a warm lick of chimney fire at home). He took Ed's jacket and waistcoat off of him, revealing the places where blood seeped through his white shirt.
Recognizing that the cold floor was probably not the best place to unclothe a freezing, passed out person, Roy picked up the Ed's unconscious form and brought him to his bed, which sat a mere few steps from his fireplace.
He parted from the bed only to hastily grab two towels and place them next to the fireplace to warm them. His first aid set was under the bed, so Roy got straight to work. At this point, Roy took Ed's shirt off too, only feeling the mildest bit of discomfort at the thought (because it was an emergency and he was a mature-ass man, damn it!).
He noticed three things. One, Ed had a huge scar through the center of his stomach, as if he'd been impaled. Roy could only imagine what trouble Ed had quietly caused in the near four years of absence. Second, he had many large-ish gashes, bleeding profusely, and the skin around his metal automail port looked like it was close to frostbite. The third thing Roy only noticed after he had wiped away a smear of blood from Ed's chest. It was Ed's soulmark- it matched his own. However much this may have completely shocked him in any other setting, Roy managed to block out this last information until a more appropriate time to freak out.
This time came about half an hour later, when at last, Ed was patched up well enough to not die, and his leg and arm ports were covered by the heated towels to prevent further skin damage.
Now, Roy freaked out. He walked back into the wall on the opposite end of the room, holding his head in his hands. Slowly, he slid to the ground, still cupping his forehead with one hand. He brought his right hand down shakily to look at his own soulmark. 'Shit,' he thought to himself.
Now, before their final parting those years ago, Roy had begun to develop some kind of feeling for Ed, but he passed it off as respect- at most a parental worry for the teen. He had let that idea fester around in his mind every day, his guilt for not being there to save Ed when he needed saving growing every day. He tortured himself with the images of Ed living a happier life with an in-the-flesh Al- an image that may have been possible if he had made it to them in time.
Eventually, about a few months ago, Roy had admitted it to himself- he had fallen for Ed. He had fallen far into the deep and bramble- ridden hole that is love.
Ed woke up. Forget that he was in a barely comfortable bed wrapped in bandages and hot towels. He had woken up- that came as quite a surprise. He, upon opening his eyes, faced a wall. It appeared that he was wearing his own boxers and also a long-sleeved sweatshirt belonging to someone several sizes larger than he. He also noted that his hair had been loosened from it's ponytail that he was positive he'd had in when he'd landed in the snowy land.
His chest hurt- a lot. It was the open wounds, he knew, but that didn't make slowly turning around to get a better view of his surroundings any easier. Once he was laying on his other side, he was met with the sight of a large room.
The room, he guessed, acted as the whole house, as there was a small kitchenette and table on the other side of the room. Beside the bed, a dwindling fire crackled, and a window behind Ed cast mid-morning light onto his blankets. Next to him was a bed stand, which held a tray, which in turn held a bowl of soup, a cup of milk (ew), a spoon, and a notecard. Maneuvering himself into a sitting position, Ed picked up the note first.
It read:
Edward,
The soup and milk are your breakfast- finish all of it (even the milk). I have a patrol to go through and a ration to collect, but I trust that you won't reopen any gashes eating soup. Please don't, that'd be a mess to clean up.
"Not drinking that damn milk." Ed muttered, setting it aside and bringing the tray to his lap. He had swallowed down the first spoonful of the (okay at best) soup before he realized that it was rather strange that whoever wrote the letter to him knew his name and of his hatred for milk. He also recognized the neat, cursive-like handwriting, but couldn't place the person to whom it belonged.
Looking around the cabin and out the window, Ed recognized that he was in a very snowy part of Amestris, probably up North. The problem was, he didn't know anybody who lived up North, but this person was hinting at a relatively close relation to him. There were no pictures on the walls, nor were there any items that would hint at an identity.
The best he got was a blue military jacket that hung on a peg by the door, but it bore no bars or stars of rank. An enlisted man. Any military Ed knew was typically higher-up, as he was stuck in various headquarters for most of his military-personnel encounters (usually to receive lectures/ assignments from Mustang).
"Wait, holy shit!" Ed exclaimed, nearly dropping his soup as he had a minor epiphany. He grabbed the note, looking at it very carefully. Sure enough, the handwriting was exactly like that detailing his assignments, the same handwriting that he threw away the second he left HQ. It was Roy Mustang's handwriting, undoubtedly. However, it seemed… tilted… somehow, and it was strange that Mustang would refer to him as anything but 'Fullmetal' (even though Ed wished he would call him so many other things that were much less formal).
Ed put down the note, taking in with new eyes the sadness of his surroundings.
Before Ed could make any new major observations, the door opened. The wind howled ferociously around Mustang as he pushed a large box (supposedly rations) into the room, slamming the door behind him. He quickly took off his thick overcoat and blue jacket before walking quickly towards the fire, which had gone down significantly. Placing one log down, he pulled out a box of matches and struggled to light one with his frozen fingers.
Ed quirked an eyebrow, "Why don't you just use your alchemy?"
Roy jumped and looked around, revealing to Ed that the older man's right eye was covered with a dark eye patch. Roy remembered Ed was there and sighed, "I gave up on that with my demotion four years ago."
Ed frowned, "Why'd you get demoted all the way to Enlisted Man?"
Roy quirked his visible eyebrow, "People don't like it when someone assassinates their Fürher."
"But Bradley was a homunculus!" Ed retorted.
"They saw me walk out of his burning mansion carrying Bradley's dead son and assumed the worst. Plus, who'd believe that? The only other person who's seen the homunculi are you and Al, and Al can't remember anything before he was nine." Roy said.
Ed's eyes widened, "He can't?"
Roy shook his head, "The last thing he remembers is your transmutation going wrong when you tried to resurrect your mother. Other than that, he's just fine and completely in the flesh. He's about the only person who believed you were still alive."
As Roy explained this, he had relit the fire and it was steadily growing. He took off his gloves without a second thought, as it had become custom in the cold cabin. What he neglected to remember was the soulmark that was now in Ed's direct view. Ed could make out the dark curves and lines that made up their marks, even from the distance they sat.
He froze, shocked. In a way, it was too good to be true, considering that Ed had pretty much had a thing for Mustang since his hormones had begun to kick in. Ed recognized at that moment that, because he could feel bandages against his chest, Roy must have seen his own mark while Ed was unconscious.
Wincing against the pain his gashes caused, Ed sat up in Roy's bed and made as if to get up. Roy noticed this, immediately stood, and all but pushed Ed back into the bed. "You're really hurt, Ed. Don't try walking around yet."
Ed took advantage of their closeness to grab Roy's hand and stare intently at the mark, making absolutely sure it matched his. Undoubtedly, every line and curve was the exact identical to the mark on his own chest. He looked up at Roy with wide eyes, finding the dark-haired man looking at his hand clasped between automail and skin with an expression close to sadness, or maybe acceptance.
"Roy," Ed breathed, expression still shocked, "You're…"
Roy didn't respond, but he looked like he was trying to contain the very last fiber of his emotions inside of him.
When Ed reached up with his real hand to touch Roy's face he could feel how strained his muscles were to keep his expression neutral. Ed turned Roy's face so that their eyes met.
Roy looked to the side, resting his hand atop the one on his cheek. Not trusting himself with speaking, Roy hoped that his silence would be enough because it would tear him apart to have to spill his heart out to Ed right now. He went for the next best option.
The hand that rested atop Ed's was shaking slightly as, after a final, decisive breath, Roy leant down a bit and caught Ed lips in his own as the blonde was lifting his face upwards with similar intent. It was chaste, nothing much more than a graze, and Ed's lips were chapped and cold, and it sent sparks of heat wildly through Roy's body.
Instead of letting the kiss go any further, however, Roy moved his head back, receiving a small pout from his soulmate. Looking back at Ed, Roy saw eyes filled with wonder and a smile poorly masked behind his pout which, if not hidden, would probably match the one Roy felt tugging at his own cheeks. Their hands had moved to the general proximity of Roy's shoulder.
Roy lifted his hand into Ed's loose hair, ruffling it a bit, "You barely ate any of the soup."
Ed laughed, "You're a sucky cook."
"Hey!" Roy mocked great offense, "It's not like the outpost provides the most amazing ingredients to Enlisted Men."
The blonde chuckled absentmindedly, moving his automail hand up to trace the area where Roy's eye patch rested against his cheek. The metal was warm after its long exposure to the hot towels underneath the thick blankets. Not necessarily wanting to delve into the subject of his missing eye, Roy stood, Ed's hands sliding loosely to hold either of Roy's wrists. "Go ahead and eat, I'll call Miss Rockbell. I can't say Al will be there- he's taken up adventuring around Amestris like you did."
Roy could see the concern lurking in the back of Ed's gaze, but he complied, reluctantly moving his hand from where they had slid, "Fuck, I'm so relieved Al's body's back. Don't know what I'd have done if I came back and he was still in that damn armor."
Roy smiled, knowing that if the transmutation had failed Ed would just keep working to fix it. He strode across the room to the wall-mounted telephone. It had just begun to snow not-violently-enough for the phone lines to thaw a fraction, but even that was enough for a few calls a week. Looking quickly through his little phone book, he came across the hastily scribbled-down number of the Rockbell's automail shop.
He remembered Winry's awkward visit to his hospital room the days directly after the coup against Bradley. She'd given him the shop's number (in case he got any information about Edward) without looking at his face, and left as soon as she could. Not that he could blame her, mind.
The phone rang twice before the other line clicked open, "Rockbell automail mechanics, how may I help you?" Winry's voice droned through the earpiece.
"Winry? It's Mustang." Roy greeted.
Her voice turned uneasy, "Is it Al?"
Roy chuckled, "So he's gone off again, has he?" On a few occasions Winry had called Roy, asking frantically if her soulmate had somehow wound up in the North. On only one occasion had he actually been there. Roy continued, "No, actually, it's the other brother who's wound up in my cabin this time."
He had to hold the receiver away from his ear so that Winry's scream wouldn't give him one less sensory organ, "OH MY GOD! ED'S THERE?"
"Yes, he's been hurt, but just as troublesome as ever." Roy commented, smirking at Ed when he heard the 'Hey!' from his bed. "He arrived last night."
"Where's he been? Can I talk to him? Are trains able to come close to your station with the snow?" Winry asked.
"Trains just re-opened last week, and if you give me a moment I'll get Ed over here." Roy answered. He heard Winry's 'of course!' as he rested the receiver on the small table under the telephone. Roy turned to see Ed already standing wobbly, holding onto a bedpost with a mildly consternated look on his face. Roy quickly came to the blonde's aid, slipping an arm around Ed's shoulders. Ed flushed a powder-pink shade, but otherwise complied in leaning against Roy, using his soulmate as a human crutch from one side of the small cabin to the other.
When they reached the phone, Ed sat atop the table, but entwined his flesh fingers with Roy's marked hand, thusly anchoring the Enlisted Man near his side.
Over the phone, Roy could hear Winry's tearful and overjoyed words of welcome to her best friend, and he could practically see the joy radiating off of Edward as he reconnected with Winry. He told her that it would be easier to explain his long absence in person, which definitely piqued Roy's curiosity.
Now that he'd calmed down enough to contemplate it, Roy had to wonder: Where had Ed been all these years? And why had he shown up in the one part of Amestris Roy was pretty sure the young Alchemist had never actually been to during his time in the military?
As Roy's thoughts carried him further from the situation, Ed laughed and bid Winry adieu with a promise to see her soon. Roy heard the phone's receiver slide into its holder on the wall before a metal finger poked him on the cheek under his working eye, "Arschloch, hey, you still here? Winry said she could probably get here in two days if the snow clears up further west."
"… What did you just call me?" Roy asked confusedly, never having heard the (coming from Ed, he could only assume) expletive.
Ed paused, equally confused, rethinking what he'd said,"You've never been called an asshole before? That's a fucking lie."
"You said 'arsh-lock', not asshole."
Realization dawned on Ed's face, "Damn, I didn't even notice." He turned on the little table so that his gaze was downward from Roy's face. The hand that held his tightened a bit, "Where I was- a country called Deutschland- they spoke a different language. Seems I've become fluent."
Roy could sense Ed's discomfort, so he intervened, "If you don't want to talk about it, just wait until Winry gets here- you need to get back to bed, anyways, let's do tha-"
Ed pulled Roy into another kiss, effectually silencing him. There was a fire in this kiss that had been lacking in their first. Ed pulled Roy flush to his body, wrapping both arms behind the older man's neck. Roy kissed Ed back intently, their lips hot against each other in the cold air of the cabin. His hands landed on either side of Ed's waist, careful not to disturb the blonde's bandages.
The sparks that Roy felt with the first kiss returned with a vengeance, and he had trouble concentrating on what was going on around him. All he could focus on were the points at which he and Ed touched- namely the lips. While definitely not the best kiss he'd ever received (or given, he'd guess) it was with Ed. What the blonde lacked in experience, he made up with fervor and emotion, which was more than Roy could have expected from the young alchemist.
Roy pulled away first, resting their foreheads together while he let his heart rate calm slightly.
Ed sighed impatiently, "I know, I know, I'm too hurt and shit to do anything."
"Actually," Roy smirked, "I was going to suggest me move this closer to the fireplace, but if you insist…"
"Shut up and kiss me you arschloch." Ed replied gruffly, to which Roy heartily responded by smashing their mouths together again.
"You said that word again." Roy commented as he lifted Ed bridal style. Ed shrieked with surprise, but quickly collected himself as Roy made the long five steps across the cabin to his bed.
He set Ed down so that they were both sitting at the edge of the bed.
"I know," Ed whispered, and pulled him down once more.
~END~
