"Roy, I realize you're the Flame Alchemist," Ed drawled, another expression he'd picked up from Roy, who was beginning to think he was a bad influence on the boy, "and impervious to heat, but you surely don't want to get that close to the pan?"
Roy reconsidered and grabbed a hot pad to handle the pan. Ed had finally let him start cooking, just as he had, with a great display of self control, let Ed roll a ball down the alley on his own. Possibly this was because Ed was finally running low on leftovers. The little alchemist had a gut feeling that he was cooking for two people, and Al didn't eat anymore. On occasion, Ed went further, and tried cooking for three or – and Al moaned when this occurred – ended up with a banquet for twelve.
So Roy had been permitted to glaze onions. If it weren't for that – darn – hot pad, he'd be good at it, too. And if it weren't for Al, Roy would still have his masterful command of the darker side of language. The prohibition seemed to be catching – first Ed, then Roy, Fuery had never cursed that Roy had heard, and now Havoc was starting to be conscious of his language. Riza had always been sparing with her expletives, but she was watching even those now. Falman and Breda seemed to have pretty healthy immune systems, at least where bad language was concerned.
Havoc's susceptibility probably had something to do with Fuery. Roy had a hunch that those two were a pair. He'd been trying to set them up for ages.(1)
And meanwhile, Ed was starting to lord things over Roy. Dangle things in his face. Taunt him. If it kept going, Roy thought exasperatedly, he would start ranting and… who knew where that would lead. Why must Ed pick up all his habits?
"Flame," just like Roy said Fullmetal, "it could just be me, but isn't it a bit… dry… for steam?"
Roy glared and stirred the onions.
"Flame,"
"Would you stop that!" Roy snapped. He hadn't lost all of his Colonel-ness, which he used to think was unique. "It's bad enough when you take all my expressions, but then you start using sarcasm, and calling me Flame, and –" He stopped.
Ed was just watching him, one eyebrow raised.
"That's mine!"
(0.0)
"Nii-san…"
"Mm."
"You're having lunch with Roy. In fifteen minutes." Al just knew that would make Ed so happy. He loved being in a rush.
Ed was staring at the wall. Lying in bed, which he had pushed into a nice, dark corner, staring at the wall. He was in love with the Colonel and the Colonel was Al's. Last night had been so nice, the strange change of roles, Roy burning the onions and later murdering the carrots… Playing with the child's set of bowling pins, which Roy said was just for practice, yet which Ed was so sure was a comment about his height!… And then he'd gone to bed, and remembered that Roy was Al's.
"Maybe I'll skip."
Al was concerned. "Why?"
"You go."
"I don't want to."
"He's your crush." Ed reminded him sullenly. "You go. Tell him I'm sick. And Winry's watching me."
"I'm not going to lie for you. Or to you, anymore. Ed, I don't really like Mustang. I mean, I like him pretty well, particularly since you like him, but brother, not that way."
"Huh?" Ed asked despondently.
Al had a revelation. "It's not about the waste of prime carrots after all! You're getting all sulky emo because you like Roy and you think you can't have him because I liked him first."
"Yeah." Ed admitted. "But really, Al, it's okay, you can have him, I'll be fine –"
"I don't want him."
"You don't have to do that for me, you should be happy too, it's my fault you're in that body and –"
How did that get in there? Al wondered. "Ed. I don't like him that way. He's kind of annoying, actually. I mean – really, Ed – I don't mind, since you like him, I like him too, but you have ba – I mean, not that way. Really. You can have Roy. I really, really don't want him."
"Yes you do."
"Nii-san – brother – Edward. Listen. You don't understand. There is no way, on God's green earth, that the Devil himself, could persuade me to enter a relationship with That Thi – Roy."
The Edward caught his attention. And Al meant it. And Ed really, really wanted him to mean it.
"Really?" Ed asked hopefully.
"Really. And you only have thirteen and a half minutes."
Ed was already out the door.
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Wrath pounded on the bathroom door. "En-vy! What are you doing in there?" Aside from flooding the world…
The only answer was a cackle.
Montgomery's Hair Emporium, Envy thought smugly. Montgomery's Hair Emporium.
It would take ages to get the other, far inferior gunk out of his hair. But when he did…
Envy first ran his lathered hands through his long, luscious black-green hair at about the same time that Ed and Roy kissed.
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(1) Fuery's Closet. Yes, shameless linking to force the poor reader to more effort. You'll have to wait for the evil cackle, though, it cracked and won't be fixed for another week.