Summary: In a world where Edward Elric could never see himself considering being 'gay', and in a life where Roy Mustang couldn't imagine Ed, not being gay. A story of confusion, controversy and learning to accept the true nature of life. Sex. AU

A/N On The Universe: This follows neither the anime nor the manga, really, but is set in an alternate timeline and or AU. There is not going to be any Alchemy in this story, but hey I found a happy medium. I kept Ed's Auto-mail arm and leg. :D

A/N On Reviews:I adore getting feedback and constructive criticism, but I do have one request to make. When commenting, please bear in mind that your comments and suggestions, both good and bad, are your opinion only, rather than (in general) a statement of fact. It is easy to accidentally insult or offend an author by sounding demanding and entitled in a written review, and I know that is never anyone's intention. By all means tell me if you think something seems a bit off, but give a moment's thought to how the tone of your review might be received. Thanks!

Rating Information - Rated "M" overall due to scenes of an explicit or disturbing nature later on. Please check each chapter for each rating or warnings. (boyxboy)

Warning: Mild Language and Flirting.

Beta: konfessor2u- the best beta in the world.

Chapter two: Unfortunate Times During Great Joy

∞∾Edward∾∞

Aunt Beatrice— my least favorite of the aunt of the family, speaking off the record: she wasn't really even my aunt to begin with. Somewhere along my childhood she had figured she was my aunt. The funny thing is, she truly believed herself, now in her old age she was being the aunt she claimed to be.

Honestly— I blamed Mother. She had allowed this crazy woman into our life so long ago, and now my conscience feels obligated to allow this old crinkly hag to pinch my cheeks and listen while she tells me how, 'Such a lovely young man you've grown up to be, little Eddy.' And no matter how hard I tried to convey that I wasn't 'Little', Aunt Beatrice would always say the same thing with a befuddled look showing on her round wrinkled face. 'Well of course you are. You will always be my little Edward with skinned knees and all.' And then she would try to assault my already bruised cheeks with boney, old woman hands.

I drew the line with the hag at sloppy old granny kisses… Do you know, fucking hot-rod-red lipstick stains, god-nabit?

Walking towards the back to reception hall, I wiped my white glove palm over the wet slobber running down my face. Oh yuck, I thought, feeling the moisture of the kiss seeping through my glove on my flesh hand. Looking down, I noticed the pristine white glove was smeared with red. Awesome… great— fan-fucking-tastic.

I have seriously come to terms with it: I hate old women. That had been the third time tonight that Aunt Beatrice attacked me.

"Stupid hag," I grumbled, ripping the glove off my flesh hand and shoving it into my pocket. Luckily, I hadn't used my right hand to wipe Beatrice slobbery lip prints away. My automail-arm always seemed to put people on edge and it remained hidden for now. I don't know what I hate worst; the fear of the unknowing lingering in their eyes or pity of the apathetic giving false sympathy when seeing my metal limb, maybe it was both. I rather keep the damn thing covered, it was easier that way.

At least then I could avoid people's gawks and stares. Don't forget the idiotic question which always follows— "How long ago did your accident happen?" Does it honestly look like I want to discuss the traumatic event, leading up to the loosing of a limb with you? Or better yet, the question that usually follows the first inquiry, "Did 'it' hurt? Or does 'it' hurt?" Honestly, never in my life have I ever heard a more redundant, moronic question, actually, spoken aloud and not to mention just plain rude.

Everyone knows the saying 'There is never such a thing as a stupid question.' Well guess what? Dilemma solved. I have found the stupidest question in all existence. Mystery closed. Fucking people, of COURSE, it fucking hurts! It's not like a baby unicorn licked it and everything was all better suddenly. Geesh. End of the Fuckingstory.

Sighing at my train of thought, I walked towards the door leading outside. I needed to breath in the night's air. Pulling on the collar of my formal shirt, I felt the first two buttons popped open. The blue bow tie I'd been wearing earlier, hung loosely around my neck in a forgotten mess. I'd unlaced it from the knot after I had given my best man speech earlier in the night. I kept the black tuxedo blazer on; my black leather gun holsters resting beneath. The wedding coordinator had tried to talk me out of carrying my guns tonight. Thing was— I never went anywhere without my .40cal Glock handguns, and that included my brother's wedding. Sorry Al. Call me paranoid, and I wouldn't argue with you. I've seen way too much in my short life to not be suspicious. So after a little arguing, the coordinator and I came to the same conclusion— I couldn't wear them during the ceremony but I could during the rehearsal. If I kept them out of sight, they would be out of mind.

I don't know where Riza found this wedding coordinator, but wherever she'd come from, Mr. Hawkeye was getting his money's worth. She should've been called: The Extreme Wedding Coordinator. I respected her work ethics, but shish lady, fucking relax a bit. Plainly, there was only one way to describe her methods politely— she was intense and to the tenth degree.

When I first walked into reception from the greeting line, I had slunk towards the back of the hall trying to disappear into the crowd. Only so many people could fit into a giant circus tent and believe me, there were a lot of people. Al and Riza are both friendly and popular people; of course they would invite everyone and their mothers.

Queue the coordinator stage left: This is where she found me sulking near the bar. She'd firmly told me to take my drink and return to my designated seat at the main table; the food was about to be served.

The second time the wedding planner located me, I was grateful to say the least. Aunt Beatrice had me in a death hold by the skin of my cheeks. So theoretically speaking, the coordinator swooping in not only saved me from the painful pinching but also permanent nerve damage being done to my face. Rubbing at my cheek, she ushered me back to the main table, 'We are serving the cake.' I heard the word cake, and took my seat without having to be asked twice.

The third time the coordinator found me; I was beginning to believe she was stalking me. I had been untying my bow tie— those damn things are annoying. I never like to wear anything shackled around my neck. It reminded me of the one or two times I've been choked out in the line of duty.

Quietly and swiftly the demon planner appeared out of thin air, she hadn't been by my side one minute and the next she was batting my hands away and scolding me with a hard look from her brown eyes. 'Don't do that.' She said before she proceeded to fluff my bow-tie knot. "You can take it off after, your speech" She spoke decisively before flittering away to hassle the DJ doing the announcements.

She was the Devil incarnate. I could literally see horns sprouting from under her salt-n-pepper hair. The next thing anyone knows— she'll have a forked tail and twisty evil mustache, while chasing people around with a pitch fork.

I'm just glad my part in the wedding was over; I could finally relax and slither off to the side. I had already paid all my dues as best man, I'd done the best I could for Al. Only the best, it's the only thing Alphonse deserves. I felt a fond smile grace my face.

With the festivities in full gear, people were drinking, dancing and eating. While others were making conversation with each other, I found myself stepping out of the noise and into the refreshing night breeze. I fled from the circus tent of a reception hall out the back entrance, where hopefully I could be alone for at least a few minutes. The cool air left felt like rapture to breath, crisp and soothing after so long of being cooped up in an enclosed area in ninety-five degree weather. Thankfully the sun was now set beyond the horizon, meaning the blazing summer day had now rolled over into a chilly mid-summer night. It was still seventy-five degrees, but the cool breeze from the north was cooling it off nicely.

The heaviness of my yellow braid laid like a weight falling from my head and down the length of my spine. It was plaited tightly but stray wispy strands still escaped around my face as the winds played with the fly away tendrils. I brushed the yellow hairs out of my eyes and behind my ear.

The striking of matches drew my attention to the left.

And there he was, the bastard from earlier. His tall, broad form leaning casually against one of the catering delivery trucks, I stood there for a second, just to look at him. What was his name again, I wonder momentarily. Oh yes, that's right, Roy. Roy Mustang.

He, and by he, I mean Roy, stood with his back facing me. I felt my heart pick up in speed as I stood there. What's up with that? Any ways— like I was saying, Roy's back was facing me; his chin tilted towards the stars watching them shine brightly. My eyes darted towards his gracefully long fingers as he flicked at the cigarette held there absentminded.

He looked at peace; like this was exactly the right place to be at this precise moment-in-time. His onyx hair fluttered in the cool summer breeze, and I caught myself wondering what he smells like.

"What. The. F…fuck." I did not just think that… Shaking my head violently, knocking the 'thought train' right off its rails and down the mountain of 'Eds'-Not-Gay' and into the valley of, 'Fuck-You-Thoughts-I-Hate-You'. I must have made more noise than I thought, while having my mental dilemma. Roy's baritone voice interrupted.

"Elric?"

I froze when I realized those black orbs were looking towards me, narrowed with confusion. Effortlessly, Roy's expression melted from surprise into mild amusement. His thin manicured black eyebrow arched up in a silent question under the loose hairs hanging into his dark eyes.

I felt put on the spot and the metaphorical stage lights were blinding me in the face to say the least, I was nervous. I realized this before I could stop my uncooperative mouth from blurting words—

"You know." Pointing towards the nearly smoked cigarette, "those will kill you."

∞∾Roy∾∞

The cool breeze from the north caresses my face with a quite reserve. It was gentle and calming in its wake. Bringing the limp cigarette to my lips, I drew a white bout of smoke into my lungs before blowing it out into the summer night sky.

Riza Hawkeye finally a married woman. I'd never thought I would be alive to see the day. Better yet, I never thought I be alive to see a man who could actually put up with Riza… intensiveness? No, that's not the right word to describe her. Excruciating zealousness? No— getting closer. Her vehemently crazed out take on life—? There we go.

A quite chuckle bounded from my chest at that thought. The woman was ardently eager in her passions. She'd been like that ever since I've known her. Stoic, in her action, but overly enthusiastic about the outcome, it was the reason I could consider her my closest friend.

"Loyal till then end", I whispered to the night sky before taking another hard pull from the cigarette. The red amber on the end illuminated, releasing excessive ribbons of smoke towards the heavens.

It was truly an enchanting evening for a wedding reception. The night sky was clear and crisp, every star shone brightly as they flickered within the cradle of darkness. The moon smiled down with a wide toothy grin, laughing at a joke only she could hear. The light winds, where most would find bothersome, set me at ease. The cool gust felt refreshing against the lingering sweat of the day. Nights like this reminded me of being at sea— well, minus the water lapping at the bottom of the ship.

You see, I am at sea eighty-five percent of the years as an O-6 Captain for Amestris navy*. I don't get on land every often. The earth beneath my boot was authentic and a real treat, and at Riza wedding no less! Another muted chuckle rounded from my chest as I positioned myself back against the delivery truck I found myself leaning on.

Being a commander of the frigate Jarrett, was no easy occupation. Being the Captain of a four hundred and fifty-three foot warship, with a two hundred and sixty-two-member crew, was no walk in the park either. But someone had to do the job, and that post happened to fall into my lap. Captain Roy Mustang, "who's not, reporting in for duty for another week..."I said with a smile giving a mock salute to the sky. Damn it felt good to say that aloud. I was on an official paid vacation leave, meaning I didn't have to return to base for a whole week.

Queue the church bells, because I finally didn't have to work!

Feeling the flickering warmth of the nearly smoked cigarette against my fingers, I looked down towards disturbance. Grimacing in disgust, I toss the brown used filter away to the ground, stepping on it the process of snubbing the embers out. Reaching into my charcoal blazer pocket, I retrieve my pack of smokes. Drawing one out and placing it in between my lips, I lit a match. Cupping the flame, I brought it to the white tip, watching it catch flare before simple glowing red as I inhaled the smooth smoke. I watch lazily while the smoke escapes into the air drifting up into invisible nothingness.

Too say the journey from port to Riza's wedding was an easy expedition, well that would be the understatement of the year. It had actually been a near nightmare to get too where I stood now. From the delays on the ship, to last minutes reports which needed to be filled out, I was lucky to have even seen my closest friend enter into matrimony. I did miss the rehearsal dinner though, and believe me when I say, I feared for my life when I spoke with Riza on the phone last night. If she could have put a gun through the phone, I would've been dead then and there… luckily they still haven't invented the 'gun phone.'

When I had shown up early this morning to the Hawkeyes residences, a pregnant Riza with curlers lining her yellow hair greeted me in the foyer with her pistol. She fired three times: one as a warning shot into the air and the other two, nearly hitting my ears on opposite site of the wall.

Now I tell you to mind my word choice. I said 'Near hit' because I've never seen Hawkeye miss her target.

"That was for not making it to dinner last night." Lowering the gun, Riza walked calmly over towards where she'd pinned me against the wall with her shots. I had been still trying to recover when she placed a friendly kiss on my pale cheek, "And that's for making it in time."

Riza was still the same old Hawkeye, even if she was now married and four months pregnant. She would never change. Her vehemently crazed outlook on life will never fade. She's the sister I never had, the only family I've ever known. Family is supposed to be there for one another, to help out in times of need. Well damn it, I am in need of a good lay. And Hawkeye is being the biggest cock block, since the word cock-block was invented.

Earlier in the evening when I had approached her after the ceremony to ask, "Who's that young, attractive, blond Groomsman?" I thought Riza would toss me a bone of some sort. Instead she fixed her brown eyes on me with a knowing gleam shone brightly. "No, way Roy. Not this time. That's Alphonse's brother, and besides, he's straighter than a vertical line."

"Have I ever had a problem turning them gay?" I'd asked mockingly while ignoring her warning.

She had fixed me with another rigid look, wagging her finger in my face, "Roy, not this time." She really knew me all too well, I thought, taking a drag off my cigarette.

"You leave Edward out of your perverted way of thinking."

Okay, she had me there; I should heed her warning and not mess with Edward. Was I going to listen— almost certainly not? Because you see, there is a game I like to play with straight men. I call it, 'Could Roy Mustang turn them queer?' The object of the game… See how many heterosexual men I could seduce and turn gay. I had done it for years now (since boot camp, really), Riza knew of it, I've told her many times of my exploits but it didn't mean she approved. She thought it 'immoral and depraved'; she didn't mind I was gay, really! Riza wanted me to be happy, but not at the cost of other men's feelings. She couldn't see I was helping these men into achieving what they truly wanted. Like a blind man being handed a walking stick, I was teaching them to walk in a new light.

And besides, I thought with a cocky snort, eighty percent of the guys I do fuck already have one foot out the metaphorical closet. My service was to give them the last push into what they wanted—Sex with passion, sex with a real man.

Feeling the heat of the spent cigarette on my fingers again, I toss the filter on the ground with the other. Opening my packet yet again and pulling another out. Striking the match, I lit the fresh stick hanging from my lips. I really should go back in, but the night's air feels too refreshing to go back inside the stuffy tent. Looking towards the sky, I felt at peace.

This is when I hear a mutter of "What the fuck," coming from behind me. Turning my head to look over my shoulder, speak of the devil and apparently he will appear… "Elric?"

The man stood frozen with a tint of blind embarrassment on his handsome round face. I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in a small smirk. He really was rather cute for a man. If a man is what you could call him— He stood about 165 cementers, so around 5'5. But it wasn't his height that made me think 'womanly' when looking at Edward, it was his feminine build with his narrow shoulders hidden beneath the obviously rented tuxedo. The blonde had a slim waist line and long narrow legs but most of all, he had a strikingly beautiful face leaving me craving for another look. I have never seen a pair of eyes like Edward's before, golden in color and deep as any sea I've sailed. His nose curved up like a cute little button and his lips… god his mouth was utterly ravishing. I could taste him heavily on my tongue already, and I haven't even touched him. But how I wanted too.

"You know." Edward spoke breaking my trance, indicating towards the cigarette held limply in my hands. "Those will kill you."

"I mean, you're going to die… No wait, that didn't come out right…" Comically the eldest of the Elric brothers slapped a hand over his mouth, probably trying to stop the cluster of words spouting forth. I felt the corner of my mouth turning up into a small smirk… Edward was flustered... for what reason, I wasn't for sure… but if I was right about something, I would be sleeping with Alphonse's brother very soon. Fuck the consequences.

∞∾Edward∾∞

The bastard smirked; he was smirking at my discomfort. He had a rather nice smile, when you got down to it— Wait, that's not right…. I did not find his smile attractive. I was a man, and so was he. Men do not think about other men that way— well gay men do, but I wasn't gay…

I do not, I repeat; I do not find this bastard's smile attractive!

"Why aren't you inside enjoying the party?" Roy said smoothly drawing me away from my internal dilemma.

Looking towards one of the hanging decoration dangling from the circus tent of a reception hall, I spoke gruffly; "Too crowded in there…" I avoided looking towards the man leaning casually against the delivery truck.

Roy brought the cigarette up to his lips again, while nodding his head. "Yeah. Alphonse and Riza seem to know a lot of people." Letting the smoke roll out of his mouth as he continued to stare at me, I could feel the heat of his onyx eyes running up the length of my body. I felt my cheeks warm, and my heart start to race. What was it about this man that could knock me off my game with such few words?

"So, you're the brother of the groom?" Roy asked causally pushing himself off the truck he was leaning on. He snubbed out the cigarette beneath his boot before shoving his hands into the fronts of his pockets.

"Yeah," I replied vaguely, finding the decoration in the distance swaying on the winds a decent distraction from the man before me.

"And yourself? How do you know Riza?" I asked crossing my arms in front of my chest.

Roy smirked again, one of those half smiles which only touch half of your face. My stomach churned into knots and I grew uncomfortable again.

"We've been friends since childhood," he spoke with a dream like quality in his deep voice. I could tell from that one look, he truly cared for Riza. But how much did he care for her? Love from a brother to sister? Friend to friend? Or did he love her, love her… like… a lover?

"How long are you in town for Edward?" Roy asked startling me out of my thoughts

"I..." I started to answer, before shaking my head to clear my thoughts. "Ed, call me Ed." – err… Why had I said that? Apparently I hadn't cleared all my thoughts. I closed my eyes and shook my head again… When I opened them, Roy and his black eyes were staring straight towards me with that smug look on his face. "I'm not visiting; I live in downtown central if you have to know." I spoke rudely with a bite to my words. I straightened my spine and stood with my shoulders back. I wasn't going to let this bastard intimidate me.

Roy's black brow shot into his hairline at my tone, before quickly melting back into a calm look. "Oh, it must be nice. I am in town for a week on vacation leave." There was a slight pause in between his words, and a glint within his cool black eyes. "Maybe we could get together and do something this week. To pass the time, you know?" Roy suggested, shrugging his shoulders passively.

I started at him for a hard minute, my mind flipping the answer over and over in my head like shuffling a deck of cards. My brain was telling me to say no and stay as far away from this man. He is nothing but trouble. But another part of me, the stupid part of me, wanted to get to know this dark hair mystery man, I don't know why, it just kept repeating, yes, yes, yes.

Hesitantly, I nodded while speaking, "Sounds good. Do you need my number to call me?" I couldn't think about what I was doing, if I did I might lose my nerve.

Roy nodded his head in agreement while drawing out a napkin from his pocket, pen in hand at the ready. My brow knitted, was he expecting this? No. Stop thinking that stupid part of me blared, while my detached body told Roy my home number.

"There you are!" We both turned towards the sound of a female's voice. "I've been looking all over for you Roy." Riza Hawkeye stood with hands on her hips. She had changed out of her giant white gown and into an equally beautiful white sun-dress for the party. Her brown eyes had a hard look gleaming within; she looked back and forth between Roy and me. "What are you doing out here, Roy?" She'd emphasized the usage of his name, as I watch Roy's hand slyly put the napkin into his pocket before raising them in defense.

"Smoking and Edward decided to join me. Isn't that right Ed?" Roy replied easily.

"I..errr… I'm going to go find Al." I said rubbing the back of my neck uncomfortably before starting for the tent.

"Good, he's been looking for you." Riza spoke austerely crossing her arms in front of her bosom.

Looking towards Roy once more, he nodded his head and gave me a knowing smirk. I felt my stomach lurch with an unknown feeling. Pushing it to the side, I walked towards the tent. Roy was a big boy; he could deal with Riza by himself. I made my way into the tent and set out looking for my brother. I was thinking I would just head home and be finished with this day. I was happy for Alphonse and Riza, really I was… It just was the entirety of the rest of my life was in total shambles. Lost my girlfriend of six years, to my partner of fouryears. Now I was the one being benched on cases and doing paper work, because my partner couldn't keep it in his pants. Now I was waiting around for the higher ups to find me a new partner before I could return the field. To say the least- Fuck my life.

My warm bed and a tall bottle of hard whiskey were calling my name. Now if I could only find my brother in the mess of all these people…

A remorseful sigh fell from my mouth at the sight of how many people were in this oversized tent. Fuck. My. Life.

Up Next: The morning after...

1. I know in the world of Fullmetal Alchemist, they are surrounded by nothing but land. A small fact I changed for this AU story, please don't be upset.

A/N This chapter was a bit longer, I hoped you all enjoyed. Thank you all who took the time to review, follow, and favorite my work. Please continue to leave reviews, it powers my writing train. I also would like to apologize for not getting this chapter up in time. You see, I sliced my hand open making dinner and had to receive 25 stitches. It was not fun :( but I'm feeling better and I kinda-sorta can type, (with one hand) lol So please be patient with my recovery.