Roy had realised something about himself. He hated it when things were weird with Ed.

And things were weird with Ed.

He'd certainly known that he disliked Ed being angry with him; who wanted someone that violently enraged with them? But this recent discovery was more in line with feelings of hurt. He hated Ed being upset—especially if it was with him. Because of him.

He could deal with the anger, as awful as it was. But the quiet resignation, the fine, whatever, the casual indifference—Ed seemed so apathetic and Roy would panic. This is it, his brain would tell him, Ed's tired of you.

He couldn't pinpoint what exactly was off; they were talking, they were doing their usual routines, but there was this undercurrent of awkwardness, of not knowing where they stood with each other.

Ed was still upset. Roy could feel it as clear as day through the bond, and though the hurt had lessened, there was still a sting of it remaining whenever they made eye contact.

After their fight in the office yesterday, they'd mostly been silent. They'd taken the report to Grumman and had spent the rest of the day working. Roy had assumed that they'd reached some sort of common ground; that they'd hashed things out and they'd be okay from here on out. But what he had come to realise was that things had changed with Ed so drastically he didn't think they could go back to Before.

They'd crossed a line and it was impossible to come back from that. Not when the possibility of crossing it again hung in the air around them with every interaction.

Would they cross it again?

Perhaps they were both tiptoeing around the same question.

They'd slept apart last night. Ed had unceremoniously flopped down on his mattress outside Roy's door and turned his back to him, seemingly set on pretending he didn't exist.

Roy had promptly entered his room and realised he hadn't yet changed the sheets from the night before, and his chest had squeezed painfully at the reminder of what he'd so briefly had. A part of him hadn't wanted to change them; he'd wanted to cling to Ed's scent and fall asleep to it again, even though it would only be pretend.

Roy hated it. He hated every second that Ed wasn't in his bed. The fresh linen smell had offered no sense of comfort.

Maybe he should accidentally set the spare mattress on fire and then Ed would have no other option but to sleep next to him—unless he hated the idea so much that he slept on the floor.

Or maybe Roy could just ask. What would he say, if Roy invited him to his bed? For him to stay in his bed?

Roy sighed, looking at the paperwork on his kitchen table in mild despair. He'd brought home two stacks to occupy himself with over the weekend—how optimistic of him.

Ed was in the living room, studying alkahestry. Roy tried to not overthink Ed's reasoning for not joining him at the kitchen table. He tried to tell himself that there wasn't enough space on the table for two stacks of paperwork and the three alkahestry books Ed was reading, that it made sense for them to work in separate spaces—but his brain believed what it wanted; that Ed didn't want to be near him.

It was embarrassing to admit that, in this moment, he was sort of glad he was soul bonded to Ed. Even though he would never know what his thoughts were, he could reach into the bond and look at what he felt—search for any lingering hatred.

Ed didn't hate him, and it was a small consolation. A small miracle, really.

Roy's stomach grumbled, and he didn't need to look at the clock to know it was lunch time. He stood, intent on making Ed the best sandwich he'd ever had.

As if Roy could woo Edward Elric with sandwiches.

He added extra salami anyway, hoping Ed noticed, and strode into the living room with a confidence that was entirely fabricated.

Ed was sitting on the floor, legs crossed and fully engrossed in the book he was reading. With a frown on his face, his eyes moved along the page. One hand gripped a pen and hovered over the paper of his notebook, while the other absently gripped his chin.

His braid draped over his shoulder, half trapped between his arm and his chest, and Roy's hands twitched with the urge to release it, to gently pull it back and set it against Ed's back where it belonged.

He cleared his throat and set the plate and a glass of water on the coffee table, making sure it was within Ed's line of sight. He hoped the small commotion he was making was enough to snap Ed out of his concentration.

Ed barely glanced at him. "Thanks."

"I added extra salami."

Okay, that sounded a tad pathetic.

Ed's frown deepened the slightest bit, but his eyes remained on his book. "…Thanks."

Roy pursed his lips. He was acutely aware of when he was being dismissed, but he'd be damned if he let Edward Elric dismiss him.

"Any updates on the research?"

Ed exhaled harshly and looked up, probably realising Roy was planning on being a pain in the ass. Not literally, definitely not literally—"I've just been reading about alkahestry."

Roy nodded slowly; he'd already known that, and now he didn't know what to follow up with. He hated how awkward he felt around Ed. It made him realise how comfortable he usually was.

Ed stared up at him, expectant, exasperated, annoyed—it was all evident in his beautiful golden eyes. He was probably waiting for Roy to leave him alone.

And Roy didn't want to leave him alone. But he was also becoming increasingly aware that he was hovering.

Ed was acting different. Colder—towards him. He couldn't exactly explain it. He and Ed had always had a weird dynamic, but it had always been comfortable, easy. The banter was always natural, Roy had never felt that anxiety he felt with other people—that pressure to socially perform in some way.

But now, he stared at Ed and words utterly deserted him, and awkwardness made his body tense.

Wasn't this what he'd wanted though? No—not wanted, but what he'd been saying needed to happen. A boundary. For them to simply coexist, figure out the bond, and go back to being commanding officer and subordinate.

Ed was just doing what he'd been hoping would happen this whole time. But now Roy was different, changed in some profound way that had shifted his entire world, and Ed not being close to him, not smiling at him, not teasing him—it was nothing short of agony.

"Why don't you come to the kitchen?" Roy suggested delicately, bracing himself for a savage rejection. If Ed decided to be nasty about it, Roy could just complain about the tug in his chest—he didn't have to reveal just how much he wished they could go back to playfully bickering at the kitchen table.

"I'm fine here."

Roy nodded again, accepting that Ed simply wanted to be as far away from him as possible. "Very well."

With that, he walked back to the kitchen, and tried to soothe the disappointment in his chest and his wounded ego.

As he sat back in his seat at the table, he wondered if his lack of control, if giving in and taking what he wanted—his selfishness—had cost him Ed.

Maybe things would never be the same between them again. Maybe he would lose Ed.

His grip on his pen tightened as his chest squeezed painfully at the thought.

If Ed never wanted to see or speak to him again after this bond was broken, he'd accept it. Even though he wasn't sure what would remain of him after Ed exited his life.

Whatever it was, he'd take it.

He was used to dealing with the consequences of his actions anyway.

Ed was cooking.

It had surprised Roy when Ed had finally walked into the kitchen at dinner time and wordlessly started rummaging through the fridge. It was a good thing he'd come when he did, because Roy had been about to order them Xingese.

But maybe he was only making himself food?

He should ask.

But he was a coward.

Perhaps he'd wait and see if Ed made enough food for the both of them, and if not Roy could order Xingese and just play it off as not being hungry till late. Even though he was already almost starving.

He watched as Ed stirred some sort of soupy liquid absently. Roy could tell he was lost in his thoughts, but the only hint towards what those thoughts were was the vague sadness that flowed through the bond.

Roy wanted to touch him, offer him some sort of comfort. As if the hands that had caused so much pain and destruction could make Ed feel better. Definitely not, when it was him that had caused the sadness in the first place.

That was all he was good for.

"What are you making?" Roy's voice came out a bit croaky; he hadn't used his voice in hours.

"Soup," Ed said blandly. Roy interpreted that as I don't want to talk to you.

He couldn't stand this.

"Ed." At his name, Ed half turned, but still didn't look at him. "Can we please talk?"

Ed went rigid. Then he scoffed. "Now you want to talk?"

Roy frowned, trying to understand what that meant. "There is obviously tension, and—"

Ed turned then, and his glare conveyed so much hurt Roy's throat closed up. Had he done that?

Roy found himself standing, coming closer to Ed almost on autopilot. Ed's glare remained fierce, even as Roy came to stand right in front of him. Now that he was here, he didn't know what to do.

"When something happens between us you pull away, you panic, and I get it, that you have shit to think about, but I thought we were past that and yet you did again and it fucking—" Ed grit his teeth, cutting himself off, and Roy stared at his glassy eyes in horror. "It fucking hurt this time, okay? I thought it was going to be different but—ugh."

He turned back around, grunting in frustration and sniffling, and Roy blinked helplessly at his back.

"Fuck," Ed whispered to himself harshly, rubbing at his face.

Roy stared hopelessly at his blond head, his stomach in knots so tight he thought he might be sick.

Ed thought—he thought that Roy had pulled away, after they…But Roy hadn't pulled away, not like he had previously, panicked by his actions and their potential consequences. This time, he'd gone into it knowing exactly what the potential consequences were, and not giving a damn. This time, he'd just been thrown off guard by the bond still binding them. He'd let his mind shut out everything as he entered problem solving mode, but Ed had thought…

He wanted to set himself on fire. How had he not realised he was hurting Ed this much?

"Ed," he started gently, "I hadn't realised I was—"

"I know," Ed cut in, "Cause you're an idiot."

Roy tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was relentless. "I'm sorry."

It sounded pathetic even to his own ears. It was easy to say he was sorry, for his actions, for the situation, for who he was, even, but that didn't erase the pain he'd caused. As far as he knew, nothing could erase all the pain he, Roy Mustang, had caused.

Alphonse had been right. He had seen Roy's nature from a mile away, and knew he would end up hurting Ed. That was what he did; hurt.

"I'm not a good person, Ed," he found himself saying, his eyes on Ed's back muscles, watching as they contracted from how rigid he was. His fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but he refrained. "I never claimed to be."

"That's a bullshit excuse," Ed spat, but his voice wavered, just the slightest bit, and it took the edge off it.

Roy's heart was squeezing so hard it was painful. He tried to breathe through the guilt, and leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter in front of Ed and enveloping him in a touch-less hug.

His chest was so close to Ed's back, but he was hesitant to touch him, unsure of what reaction he'd receive. He could feel his warmth regardless, and his body hummed at the proximity, urging him to press against him fully and wrap his arms around him.

The correct thing to do was to resist, right? Until Ed gave him some sort of go-ahead—if Ed gave him a go-ahead.

But he didn't want them to simply coexist, to figure out the bond and then go their separate ways. He'd been willing to sacrifice his wants for what he knew was the widely accepted route, but Roy was also a very selfish man. He'd known that fact for years, but right now his selfishness had reached new levels. He wanted to keep Ed here, for himself, to keep touching him even though he had caused pain.

Roy leaned forwards that last inch, until his clothed chest was flush against Ed's bare back, noticing the way Ed's breath hitched.

His hands left the counter, coming to rest on Ed's waist, softly caressing the soft skin.

Ed's breath was closer to panting that it had been seconds before, but the hurt lingered in the bond, even through the swirl of desire.

Roy placed his lips on Ed's right shoulder, savouring the warmth of his skin. "I'm sorry," he said again, hoping Ed understood just how much he meant it—just how much he was truly sorry for.

His right hand brushed over his abs, feeling them tense under his touch, and his lips trailed upwards, leaving feather-light kisses in their wake.

Ed gulped. "I'll burn the soup," he rasped.

Roy glanced at the soup simmering on the hob and reached out, switching it off in one quick movement. As he returned his hand to Ed's skin, his fingers brushed against the waistband of his sweatpants.

After a second of deliberation, during which he was sure Ed knew his intentions, he dipped his hand in, not surprised to find Ed's rock hard cock waiting for him.

Embarrassment flowed through the bond. "I—um—"

"It's okay," Roy mumbled, his lips moving against the skin of his neck. He pushed Ed further against him with his left hand, keeping his right wrapped around his cock.

Ed's face was flushed red, and he was looking to his left, away from Roy.

"Ed," Roy said, softly turning his head with his left hand. Hesitant, vulnerable golden eyes met his, and Roy truly didn't know how he'd ever resisted them before. "It's okay."

Ed's face turned even redder. "You won't—pull away after?"

No, he never wanted to be the reason Ed was hurting, the reason for those glassy eyes. He'd inflicted enough pain.

Roy shook his head, watching as Ed's eyes flicked down to his lips. "I'm here."

Ed leaned closer to connect their lips, and something in Roy quivered at the contact—like his soul was sighing in relief. Ed's lips were so unfairly soft, and he was still so hesitant, way more hesitant than he'd ever been with Roy.

Roy didn't want him to be unsure and hesitant; he wanted Ed to grab him with that demanding roughness of his, to claim Roy as his own again.

He started stroking Ed's cock, gently, slowly. He could feel himself hardening against Ed's lower back, his small breath hitches and whimpers the strongest aphrodisiac.

He pushed Ed's sweatpants down, freeing his cock, and pleasured him slowly with his right hand, enjoying the feel of Ed all but melting against him, squirming lightly against his own hardening cock. Roy held onto him with his left hand, wrapping it around his waist.

His scarred hands, so used to inflicting pain and causing destruction, were now a cause for Ed's pleasure. Hands that Ed had fantasised about giving him pleasure.

And Roy would make sure it remained that way.

He nipped Ed's perfect bottom lip as he pulled back, and stared at his face, so beautifully flushed, so gorgeously aroused.

His gaze lowered to Ed's perfect cock in his fist, precum glistening at the tip. He pumped harder, applying extra pressure around the tip and smearing precum down his shaft.

He pulled the skin back around the tip and dipped his thumb in the slit, just so, and Ed moaned breathlessly, leaning back against him and resting his head against his shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck."

Roy held onto him, his eyes once again on his face, watching every small twitch of his brows, every hitch of his breath, the way his hair clung to the thin layer of sweat on his cheeks, his braid disheveled from his squirming against Roy's chest.

"You're stunning, Edward," he breathed close to his ear, his grip on his cock tightening, and Ed shivered. Roy felt his cock twitch and throb a second before Ed gasped, coming in Roy's hand.

Roy kept pumping, making sure Ed rode out his orgasm to the fullest. With a groan, Ed thrust in his fist, scrunching his face up and gritting his teeth.

He panted, leaning against Roy's chest, body boneless and shaky.

Roy was silent as he watched Ed catch his breath, gently brushing his hair off his face where strands clung to his skin.

Ed turned his face to look at him from where it was resting on his shoulder. "You're a bastard," he said, with no bite whatsoever.

Roy smiled despite himself. "I've never denied it."

Ed heaved a content sigh and extracted himself from Roy's hold, pulling his sweatpants back up over his hips. He looked at the pot on the stove. "Soup's gonna be lukewarm now."

Roy arched a brow. "I could try speed warming it."

Ed shot him a look. "You'll burn the house down."

"Will not."

Ed rolled his eyes and switched the hob back on, giving the soup a stir. He wasn't looking at him, but he was pretty sure Ed was hiding a smile. "Get the bowls, bastard."

Roy smirked, walking over to the sink. "I must first wash my hands."

Lovely, beautiful embarrassment through the bond. Roy relished it and the flair of excitement it elicited inside him as he washed his hands and then went to grab the soup bowls.

Ed avoided his gaze as he poured soup into the bowls, a pink flush on his cheeks.

Here he was again, pausing outside his bedroom door, one hand on the door handle, and looking over to Ed.

Ed had just exited the bathroom, yawning absently as he walked over to Roy—and the mattress by his feet.

Would he just plop down on the mattress like usual? Would he be disappointed if Roy didn't…didn't ask him to join him in bed?

A sense of dejavu flooded him as he took a deep breath. He had been too much of a coward before to ask, but now…Now things had changed—between them, within Roy himself.

Roy didn't want to think too hard about the change inside him. It was deep and profound and he didn't think he could ever go back to how he was before, and that was only slightly too terrifying for him to want to analyse it.

Ed finally reached the mattress, and with barely a glance to Roy he'd started to lower himself down onto it—

"Come to bed with me."

It was out before he'd had any time to overthink it, any time to chicken out again.

He knew that what he'd just asked didn't just cross the line—it obliterated it. But hadn't he already done that, when he'd thrust deep inside Ed with zero remorse?

He'd used the bond as a crutch then, though. Subconsciously used the bond as an excuse. But now, what was his excuse? The bond had nothing to do with what had just come out of his mouth. No, that had been entirely Roy.

Ed blinked up at him, at first blankly, and Roy's stomach squeezed in apprehension. If Ed didn't want to, if he mocked him for even suggesting—

Ed's lips curled into a devilish smirk. "Is that an order?"

Roy let out the breath he'd been holding. Damn, he hadn't even realised he'd phrased that so—commandingly.

"A request," Roy said slowly. No, that wasn't entirely right. "A hopeful invitation."

Seconds felt like full minutes as Roy waited for Ed to speak, surveying his face for any hint towards his answer.

Ed stood, walking over to him. Roy still had one hand on the door handle, ready to push the door further open. "I hope you don't snore, bastard."

Roy could only stare as Ed pushed the door open and walked into his room, flicking the bedside lamp on as though this was an everyday occurrence.

He remained on the threshold as he watched Ed all but claim his bedroom, just by being in it like he was.

"I don't think I do," he said absently, and then frowned, walking in the room and shutting the door behind him. "You would know if I did by now."

Ed had been sleeping outside his bedroom door for over a month, and he'd slept next to him just the other night. But perhaps, since the bond made them sleep at the same time, any snoring wouldn't have woken Ed unless he himself woke up, and—

He was overthinking this. He didn't snore anyway.

Ed flopped down on the bed and quickly curled up on one side—his side.

"That's my side," he said as he got rid of his t-shirt.

"Not anymore."

Roy pursed his lips but was silent as he removed his sweatpants, leaving himself in his boxers. His attention was quickly captured by the fact that Ed was doing a very bad job of avoiding looking at him. Interesting.

"I thought you would've jumped at the chance to see me naked," he teased, smirking as Ed squirmed on the bed.

Ed sat up, crossing his legs, his cheeks red. He still wasn't looking at him. "I don't want this to just be, like…I mean, we're both tired and you're—" He glanced at Roy and groaned, running a hand over his face as he pulled the duvet over his lap with the other. "Fuck my life."

The spark of arousal through the bond made his smirk widen. "I'm what, Ed?"

"Fuck off."

Roy sauntered over to the bed, on what was now Ed's side, and stood over him. "I get you 'plenty hard', huh?"

Ed glared at him, his eyes almost glassy with embarrassment. "Bastard." He lay back down, dragging the covers up to his neck and giving Roy his back. "Goodnight."

Roy chuckled as he got into bed himself, having to walk all the way to the other side. He didn't care; Ed was in his bed, and he didn't think he could care about much but that simple fact at the moment.

The mattress was warmer with Ed's presence. Ed watched him as Roy pulled the duvet over himself and got comfortable, two golden eyes peeking up from under the duvet.

Roy turned onto his side, facing Ed, who just blinked at him. "The lamp is on your side."

Ed shifted, squirming until he freed an arm and reached back. In a second, the light was gone and Roy's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.

He had opened his mouth to wish him a goodnight when Ed shuffled closer, until hair tickled Roy's skin and his warm, minty breath mingled with his own. A warm arm wrapped around his middle, and Ed nestled his face under his chin.

"Shut up."

Roy shifted, his arms coming to wrap around Ed's body. "I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking it."

"You can read my mind now?"

Ed didn't reply for a few seconds, until Roy thought he wasn't going to. He simply held him, bathed in his scent and his warmth. "Goodnight, Ed."

Then he got a muffled, "You're a bastard."

Roy smiled. "I know."