He should've told Ed.

The thought had been swirling in his mind relentlessly since their encounter in the toilets. Having Ed this mad at him hadn't been worth it. Having Ed completely blank him hadn't been worth it. Having Ed take his bowl of Xingese and move to the couch simply to be away from Roy had not been worth it.

He could've stayed soul bonded to him forever if it meant Ed didn't hate him.

He never should've messed with Alphonse. Roy had known, he always had, that when it came to Ed Alphonse was off limits. No one endangered his brother and got away with it. And even though Roy knew he hadn't really endangered Alphonse, there had been a slim chance of conflict, a slim chance that Alphonse would've had to defend himself in some way. Hell, just letting him get near Central Prison would've probably done it for Ed.

He should've told Ed, and then persuaded him not to go into overprotective mode. Or maybe even offered to accompany Alphonse to Shan Young's cell.

Hindsight was a bitch.

Ed could tell he felt like shit. Roy was certain he could feel how tight his stomach had been, to the point where he was struggling to eat his dinner. Or the way guilt was consuming him whole. He was sorry, and Ed could feel he was sorry and didn't care.

Did that class as hate?

He stared at his still-full bowl of Xingese noodles. Just the smell of them was making him feel ill, the knot in his stomach unrelenting, the lump in his throat cutting off his ability to take a full breath.

It was bad, so bad, that Ed could now affect him like this.

How had he allowed himself to give up so much control? How had he given Ed the reigns over himself so freely, without caring how dangerous Ed was?

It was the bond that had done this, that had coaxed him into giving in, coaxed him into taking all that he wanted with no regard as to the consequences. As though they didn't matter. As though the fact that he and Ed were so goddamn good together erased all the issues surrounding them, all the reasons why they shouldn't.

But did it even matter now? Ed evidently wanted nothing to do with him. He was only here because going too far from Roy would potentially kill them both. Had they not been soul bonded…would Ed have walked away for good?

His stomach twisted further.

Ed would find someone else, easily. He didn't need Roy, not in the way Roy had realised he needed Ed. Just thinking of Ed with someone else—

This would kill him. This intensity the bond had caused felt like an addiction, and he had been cut off cold-turkey. It wasn't healthy, battling with feelings that intense about someone.

And it had gotten worse.

They'd been told it would get better. Hell, Ed had thought it would get better if they just gave in, if they satisfied the craving they had for each other. But it hadn't. Roy wanted him more with every passing day.

What did the bond want from them?

He couldn't go through another hour like this, with him sitting alone at the kitchen table and Ed on the couch. Perhaps all that was left of him to give was his pride.

So Roy swallowed his pride and stood, walking over to the couch. The bite marks on his neck were on full display above the neckline of his t-shirt, and he suddenly felt self conscious, as though approaching Ed with evidence of last night on his body was the most embarrassing thing.

Ed had mostly finished eating his noodles; he was battling with the stragglers that clung to the side of the bowl, trying to pick them up with his fork.

"Ed."

Ed paused, but didn't look up.

"Do you hate me?"

Not what he'd been planning on saying. He'd thought to start with a simple I'm sorry or a very respectable Can we please talk?

He hadn't been planning on sounding quite so pathetic.

Ed bit the inside of his cheek, staring down at his bowl. "It'll take more than that to hate you, idiot."

Okay, that was good. But—where was the line? He wanted to know, for reference.

Roy had been formulating his next pathetic line when Ed said, "You piss me off so fucking bad, you know that?" He set the bowl on the coffee table and pushed his wrists into his eyes. "Like, how do you even get me so mad?"

What was he expecting Roy to say to that? Thank you?

Roy smiled a grim smile as his guts twisted to the point of physical pain. "My special talent."

Ed was silent for a moment, eyes downcast. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You know why."

"Say it."

Roy took a breath, and boldly came a bit closer, until he was standing right by Ed on the couch. "Because when it comes to Alphonse you tend to lose all common sense and can be a bit…overprotective."

Ed looked at him then, eyes narrowed. But he wasn't angry; what was flowing through the bond was a type of emotional exhaustion Roy knew well. "Can you fucking blame me?"

"No," Roy said gently. "But we need his help, Ed." Ed grit his teeth. "And you wouldn't have let him see that woman if you'd known."

"If something had happened to him in that cell—"

"Nothing would've happened," Roy insisted. Ed was mellow enough to risk sitting next to him on the couch. "She was chained, and even if she wasn't Alphonse is fully capable of defending himself. He has certainly been in more life threatening situations."

Ed glared at him. "Doesn't mean he needs to go and throw himself into a cell with a crazy woman!"

"Of course not," Roy said. "But Central Prison is also heavily guarded. He was perfectly safe."

Ed shot him another glare but it didn't have much bite. Was Roy getting through to him?

"I'm still mad at you," Ed deadpanned.

Roy pursed his lips, taking a deep breath. "Alphonse didn't tell you either." It came out defensive, almost pouty. Dear God.

Ed huffed. "Yeah I'm pissed at him too but—it's Al."

Of course.

It's Al. The words that conveyed so much. Ed couldn't be truly mad at his baby brother, not really. Al was Al. And Roy was…Roy. All he ever did was piss Ed off and fuck up, as though he wanted Ed to hate him. Of course he was getting the brunt of his anger, because Ed's love for Alphonse was no match against his tolerance for Roy. How dare he even imply, even try to think of himself on any level close to what Al meant to Ed.

What was Roy to him, even? His commanding officer, for certain but…They were more than that, now. His friend? Were they friends?

Lovers? No, no—the word lover contained the word love, and he and Ed just didn't—weren't…like that.

"I understand he's your brother." Did he sound as crestfallen to Ed as he sounded to his own ears?

Ed sighed. "Al is…"

Roy wasn't sure why he was trying to explain. "Of course."

Ed shook his head. "He makes me burst with stress and worry but I'm used to his shit, we both do shit like that to each other and we get over it—but…" He swallowed, and Roy noticed his hands had fisted in his sweatpants. "But when you pull this shit it fucking hurts."

Roy blinked.

"Because it means you lied to me, it means you don't trust me—fuck, we live together and you didn't tell me my brother's in town on purpose."

Roy simply stared at him, feeling his world tilting on its axis.

"Oh," he very eloquently said.

"Yeah," Ed grumbled, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry." There he was again, apologising. How many times would he have to apologise for his fucks ups? How many times would Ed be willing to forgive?

"No, you're not."

Roy frowned. "Ed, you can feel that I am."

Ed pursed his lips, slouching further into the couch. "You're sorry I found out."

"No, I'm really fucking sorry I didn't tell you."

To his surprise, Ed's lips twitched up. "I like it when you swear."

Of course he would.

Roy's breath rushed out of him in a harsh sigh. He didn't know what this meant, he didn't know if Ed had forgiven him or if he was still mad at him or—were they okay again?

Did Roy have permission to reach over and touch him? To kiss him? To simply hold him? His whole body was roaring at their proximity; his senses were telling him to lean over and envelop Ed in his arms and forget all this ever happened. He had no doubt that was the bond's influence, too. At least to some degree.

Was Ed feeling it too? He couldn't tell; he could only feel a quiet, tired resignation through the bond.

Ed stared intently at the coffee table in front of him, silent for a few seconds. It was long enough for Roy to wonder if their conversation had ended, if Ed was waiting for him to retreat back to the kitchen.

Perhaps Roy should've burned the spare mattress when he had the chance, because now he wondered if Ed would want to sleep there tonight.

"I was too mad to talk to you in the bathroom."

Roy swallowed. In hindsight, he shouldn't have let his panic fuel that particular decision. "I shouldn't have cornered you at work."

No, he really shouldn't have. It had been unprofessional and dangerous for all sorts of reasons. If Ed had kicked the door in, Roy would've had a lot of explaining to do to anyone in the vicinity. To anyone who saw. To anyone who heard.

God, what had he been thinking? Locking his subordinate in the male toilets, to the point where he had to kick the door in to get out? That had been a rumour disaster waiting to happen.

He should definitely not let panic fuel any decisions of his ever again. Especially regarding Ed.

Ed sighed, and a vague sadness flowed through the bond, mixed with some disappointment. "It just sucks ass that you don't trust me."

Roy blinked, his brow furrowing. He kept saying that…"I do trust you."

Ed averted his gaze, biting the inside of his cheek. "Not the way I mean. You doubt me still."

Roy didn't know what to say to that, because he didn't understand what Ed meant, the way he wanted Roy to trust him. Roy did trust him with a lot of things and had done so for many years now; he was the only person Roy would trust with any alchemical matters in their work, and he trusted Ed to carry out any mission he sent him on. Personally, he trusted Ed to be moral to a fault, and always strive for the greater good. He never doubted Ed's character.

He just tended to be slightly alert when it came to his behaviour, his volatility. It was normal, however, to make sure he wasn't caught by surprise. But…what if that was what Ed wanted; for Roy to trust him blindly, wholeheartedly? Roy didn't know if he could do that, not with anyone, not after everything he'd been through.

But wasn't that how he trusted Hawkeye, and how he'd trusted Maes? Maybe…maybe Ed wanted him to trust him like that too, to not rush to worse case scenarios when it came to his behaviour and plan for them just in case. To believe—to trust—that Ed wouldn't let his volatile nature blow everything up.

Roy wasn't sure he could do it, but he'd try. For Ed, he'd try.

Ed looked at him then, thoughtfully, as though remembering something. He stood, and Roy's eyes followed him as he came to stand right in front of him. He craned his neck to stare at his face, raising a brow curiously.

Ed's fingers gripped his chin, softly, and Roy kept his face carefully blank, hiding his confusion. Ed tilted his head to the side, and his eyes flared with delight—and Roy realised he was studying his neck.

"I hadn't realised I left marks."

Roy's heartbeat jumped.

Ed smirked, eyes lighting up with some primal amusement that had his mouth drying up. "They suit you."

Roy glared at him, pulling back from Ed's feeble hold as heat seared up his neck.

The tightness in his gut hadn't eased.

The spare mattress was still on the floor in the hallway, almost taunting him, almost—

Why hadn't they moved it? Perhaps Ed hadn't wanted it moved, just in case he wanted to return to it at some point. Had that time come?

Roy allowed none of his inner turmoil to show. His face was blank as he did the dishes, as though fully absorbed in the task. He had even managed to force down his dinner after the conversation with Ed.

He liked to pretend Ed couldn't feel it all as clear as day through the bond.

He didn't say anything about it, however, which Roy wasn't sure how to take. Maybe he wanted him to stew in his self-loathing, in his guilt, in his worry that Ed would no longer wish to share a bed with him. Or share anything else with him at all.

Maybe he'd decided to give him the gift of privacy, for once. Even though this time Roy wasn't sure he wanted it.

He let Ed have the bathroom first. A very tactical decision on his part, meant to ensure Ed's pick on which mattress to sleep on wasn't influenced by Roy's general awkwardness over the matter.

Ed strolled out of the bathroom looking as though all of Roy's inner planning had gone right over his head. It probably had.

The moment the bathroom door shut behind him, Roy monitored the bond. Depending on the intensity of the tug he would be able to tell if Ed had walked to his bedroom or to the spare mattress.

But there was no tug, and Roy realised he was waiting outside the bathroom door.

Goddammit.

Deep breaths, Roy reminded himself for the umpteenth time. His stomach felt like a rock inside him as he brushed his teeth, his mind running through all the possible scenarios of tonight, preparing all the ways Roy could react that would be appropriate to whatever decision Ed made.

Steeling himself, almost, for the decision he thought Ed would make.

He never had good things for very long anyway.

When he walked out the bathroom, he was the epitome of composed.

Ed looked at him casually, all wide golden eyes and cluelessness. "You okay?"

Okay, maybe not complete cluelessness.

"Just fine." Roy gestured in front of him. "After you."

Ed gave him a confused frown-y look, which was Ed's way of telling him he was acting weird, and then walked straight to his bedroom door.

Roy could not breathe.

He shouldn't assume, he shouldn't expect, he shouldn't—

Ed pushed the door open and walked in, stretching absently and yawning.

Roy could breathe again—barely.

As he followed Ed into the room, he glanced at the spare mattress on the floor, and had the most immature urge to give it the middle finger.

He did not give an inanimate object the middle finger.

He got into bed next to Ed, his pulse pounding through his every artery, relief and trepidation two very opposing feelings battling for dominance inside of him.

Ed did not come closer. Roy took a breath. "Would you still like to…" Cuddle. He couldn't say the word cuddle.

Ed blinked at him blankly, probably not possessing the mind-reading skills necessary to finish that particular sentence, but then miraculously scooted closer. Roy wrapped his arms around him after Ed threw a casual arm over his torso, taking that as enough permission for touch.

"Why're you being an idiot?" came his muffled voice.

Roy tried to smile but wasn't sure he succeeded. "I thought I was always an idiot?"

Ed made a sound of exasperation or agreement—he wasn't sure.

When the twisting in his gut still didn't ease, Roy realised he needed Ed to spell it out for him. "Are you done punishing me then?"

Ed snorted a surprised laugh, but Roy wasn't laughing. Ed took in his serious expression and his eyes softened. "You're the idiot of all idiots, you know that?"

"With every day I spend with you it truly sinks in a fraction more."

Ed rolled his eyes, but his grin was stunning.

"I'm sorry, Ed."

Ed sighed. "I get it. I wasn't punishing you, I just—need time to sort shit out in my head I guess? It's probably more obvious when I do it cause we're soul bonded so we spend every minute together usually, but…I wasn't punishing you." His voice dropped lower at the end, a small apology in itself. Roy's heavy heart lifted just a fraction.

Ed's finger was tracing a line on Roy's shoulder, and it was distracting. He was quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplating something. "Am I really that overprotective?"

Roy's palm caressed his back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "You just want to protect the ones you love. That's not a bad quality to have." When Ed looked at him dubiously, his lips twitched up. "Even if it lands me in deep shit."

Ed smirked, pinching his shoulder, and Roy found the knot in his stomach ever so slightly looser.