Roy liked to think he wasn't often pathetic. But he also liked to recognise the times that he was.
And this was one of those times.
After he'd called Riza he'd stumbled into the living room and flopped on the couch, the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table next to him.
He wasn't sure he could move. He had finally consumed enough alcohol to reach ideal numbness levels, and his sense of time was nonexistent as he stared at the ceiling. He wasn't sure he was even blinking.
His limbs were relaxed, his body sinking into the couch. He didn't remember this couch being this comfortable.
He'd almost forgotten he'd even called Hawkeye until he heard a key turning in the lock. At first, his heart leapt into his throat, his drunk mind thinking Ed had returned. But then he realised Riza had just used her spare key to enter.
Wise woman.
Maybe she'd guessed he was drunk. Had he sounded drunk on the phone? Quite possibly.
Well, if she hadn't already guessed, she'd find out soon enough. Roy was most definitely the definition of drunk now. Even his alcohol-ridden mind could tell him that.
Roy listened to the footsteps as she walked over to the couch. Perhaps he should sit up at least, greet his guest.
He was polite like that.
"Hello," he tried saying.
Riza stared at him, her face blank. She was wearing a plain black top and dark grey sweatpants. Understandable.
Her eyes roamed over the state of him, then rested on the whiskey bottle on the coffee table.
She was judging him.
"What happened?" she deadpanned, and it made Roy realise she was in her problem solving mode. Maybe she wasn't judging him as much as he'd thought. He liked to think she was concerned.
"Ed left," he said again, and his throat closed up, a wave of fresh pain washing over him, dulled only slightly by the alcohol.
"So you said," she said carefully, moving around the coffee table to sit in the armchair, facing him.
Roy stared at the ceiling, his heart heavy in his chest. He had to tell her. He couldn't beat around the bush anymore. Already he'd revealed that Ed hadn't moved out after the soul bond was broken. She was undoubtedly wondering why.
And why Roy was an absolute mess over Ed leaving now.
"We have a situation," he said, slowly, his gaze firmly on the ceiling. When Riza was silent, he added, "A potentially career ruining situation."
Riza shifted in the armchair, and Roy caught the innocent movement from the corner of his eye. His heart was beating wildly in his chest now. He was terrified, filled with a surge of nervous energy.
But he had to say it. He had to tell her. Thank god for alcohol-induced courage.
"I'm in love with him."
Even drunk, it had been hard to say those words. To reveal something so deeply personal. It made him uncomfortable, vulnerable, and he was too scared to look at her, just in case he saw horror, or disgust, or revulsion.
He wouldn't be able to handle it.
Roy had been sixteen when he met Riza Hawkeye. She had been fourteen. It had always been his job to protect her; he'd felt that sense of duty even before her father told him to take care of her. It was ironic, considering she was basically his bodyguard. But what had built over the years wasn't just a professional relationship. It occurred to him, in that moment, that he considered her a close friend.
But would this be the end of her supporting him?
He risked a glance at her. That wasn't horror on her face. Or disgust. Or revulsion. She was looking at him almost…fondly.
Maybe he was drunker than he thought, because the next thing she said short-circuited his brain entirely.
"I know."
Roy sat up. Blinked. Breathed. "You know."
Riza's lips twitched up just a fraction. "Remember when I met Vanessa?" It had been years ago, when they were teenagers. Vanessa had come over to the Hawkeye estate to watch Roy training with fancy fire as she used to call it. "Everyone thought she was your girlfriend, and you told me she wasn't, she was your sister, but you let people think she was your girlfriend so they'd give you a break." She looked at him pointedly. "You're still doing that."
Roy blinked. Then felt embarrassed.
"I will be honest," she continued, and Roy tensed, his whole body anticipating a sort of verbal attack that would hurt way more than her gun. "I was surprised it was Edward at first."
Roy nodded, deflating. "I can understand why that would be, uh, surprising."
Fuck, he needed some water. He was regretting having this conversation when his brain was alcoholic slush. It was a conversation that was way too important to risk fucking up.
"But I sat and thought about it. And it makes sense."
"…It does?"
Riza nodded. "No offence, sir," —Roy was going to be offended— "but at fifteen Edward was way more mature than you were at eighteen. Sir." Offended. "And yes, then he was a child—"
Roy sat up straight so fast his back pinched. "This thing does not date back that far—"
Riza lifted a hand. "I know that."
"It's a very, very recent development, I can assure you."
Actually, he wasn't drunk enough for this.
"What I'm trying to say," Riza calmly continued, "is that due to your pasts, your experiences, the way life has brought things, I believe you are actually a very good match."
Roy just stared at her. "You do?"
"I do."
Roy swallowed, his throat once again closing up and his vision blurring just a bit. He tried to get his brain back on track, but ended up reaching for the whiskey bottle and taking a swig instead. Old habits. "Career ruining situation," he said again.
Riza nodded, the fondness on her face fading for her usual all-business look. "Yes, that is a concern."
Roy sighed, slumping into the couch. He had pathetically hoped she'd have magic words of wisdom about that issue too. "Ed gets mad at me about it."
Shit, he really should never drink again.
Riza raised an eyebrow at him. Or maybe it was at the humiliating pouty tone that had just come out of his mouth. "Edward understands your situation."
Roy found himself sulking some more. Because she didn't understand. She didn't know everything. She didn't know how Ed wanted to tell Al, and maybe even the team, and Roy just couldn't.
But he'd just told Riza, hadn't he?
"He thinks I don't trust him." He could feel the rant coming, his muddled brain remembering every instance where Ed had gotten annoyed at him or mad at him. And it felt so, so good, to unload it all. "And I get it, because when he yelled at me in front of everyone in the office I thought he was going to tell everyone about us—"
"That was what that was about?"
Roy felt the heat searing up his neck. Maybe he shouldn't have said that, considering what they'd been fighting about was Roy being an absolute obtuse idiot after they'd had sex—"Well, kind of, I just—I was an idiot."
"Doesn't surprise me."
Offended again.
But he was on a roll now, and he took another swig of whiskey for good luck. The fact that Riza wasn't stopping him was concerning. "And he thinks I'm embarrassed of him. Can you believe? Who would even be embarrassed of Ed? You said it yourself, he's grown and gorgeous—"
"I didn't say he's gorgeous."
Riza was smirking at him, and his face was suddenly on fire. Actually, maybe he should put the whiskey down.
"The issue," Roy said, clearing his throat and trying to tame his flaming face. "Is just that Ed is so much younger, and has so much life to live, and I can't risk my career for something that's temporary. And he thinks that means I'm embarrassed of him." He paused, and once he established that Riza didn't have anything to contribute just yet, he continued, "But I'm not embarrassed of him, I've just fucked it all up because I'm in love with him, and I told him that and then he left."
He was gesticulating a lot—it was an old nervous habit he'd dropped years ago but was now, for some reason, making a comeback.
Riza blinked at him. He wasn't entirely sure he was fully coherent, but in his own mind he'd made perfect sense.
"Edward's in love with you."
His mind blanked. "What?"
She should really stop dropping bombs like that with a straight face.
Riza sighed at him. "So if he left, he must've felt unwanted."
"Unwanted," Roy repeated, incredulous.
"Yes."
"We had sex—"
"Relevance, sir."
Right.
"All I'm saying is I definitely didn't make him feel unwanted then!"
But then their last interaction hit him like a train wreck, how Roy had told Ed to leave for his own good. How Ed leaving was somehow meant to be the right thing, when it all felt so wrong.
Ed left because Roy told him to.
He'd never hated his sober self as much as he did in that moment.
Riza was rubbing at her face now, right between her eyebrows. "I did not used to get migraines before I started working for you."
Roy stared at her. Those extra swigs of whiskey had definitely got him onto a new level of drunkness, but it was good, he thought. This was good, because he didn't need to hold back anymore.
He was free.
And it felt amazing, this freedom. This emotional lightness that overshadowed all the heaviness for just a moment. Alcohol really did make him feel like there were no consequences to his actions.
And he wondered if Riza felt like that too, when she drank. If she drank. She never came to the occasional bar outings with the rest of the team. In fact, Roy had never really seen her drink. Was that because of Ishval? Had she also faced issues with addiction, and decided to cut alcohol out all together?
He realised he didn't know, and he felt truly ashamed of himself.
"Are you okay?"
That was his voice, that had said that. He just blurted that out, and he wasn't sure if he regretted it or not, even when Riza cocked her head to the side and regarded him. "Do I look like I'm not?"
A non-answer. He should be proud, really. But it was annoying. Was he this annoying?
"Are we friends?"
She arched a brow at him, then pointedly looked at him. "Well, I am here to support you through your relationship crisis."
Roy stared at her blankly, his brain snagging on relationship crisis for a moment before realising she hadn't really answered yet again. "You and your non-answers."
She smiled at him, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in the armchair. She crossed her arms. "I learned from the best."
Roy groaned, flopping further into the couch as though willing it to suck him up whole. "Ed said that too."
"I don't think I want to know," Riza muttered.
He stared at the ceiling, following the floaters in his vision, the way the ceiling seemed to spin slightly. He felt like he was floating. "But are we friends?"
Riza sighed. "You're drunk."
Roy turned his head to grin at her. "Indulge me."
She gazed at him for a moment, as though debating what to say, or whether to actually indulge him. She averted her gaze as she said, "You are the closest thing I have to family, so I suppose yes."
Roy stared at her. And he remembered, then, what she'd said to him, after she declared she was going to follow him to hell and he'd asked her if she was sure.
I have nowhere else to go.
He suddenly wished he was no longer drunk.
With a sudden burst of energy, he sat up on the couch and tried to get his brain to work. But Riza beat him to it. "What are you planning to do about Edward?"
And Roy's drunk mind got sidetracked. The hopelessness over this situation hit him full force. "I…" He swallowed, his mind skidding as it battled with a wide variety of thoughts.
In that moment, he could picture it; him ringing Ed and telling him to come home, and Ed just…returning, no questions asked. Them living here, indefinitely, without a care in the world. Roy being able to have visitors over despite Ed's living here.
He imagined it, dammit, how it would be if they could just be.
But reality chased those thoughts, eviscerating them faster than he could even begin to process them.
"I don't know."
It was honest, and the honestly came through in his voice. Even to his own ears, he sounded so painfully lost. Torn. Confused.
Riza took a breath. She didn't answer immediately, and Roy waited, impatiently, time lost to the haze of alcohol. He wished she could see the future, tell him everything would be okay, that he could have Ed and climb to the top without a hitch.
But there were no guarantees, and it was terrifying. Roy liked guarantees. He liked being sure.
When Riza looked at him again, her eyes were sad. "The team will be okay with it, if you choose to pursue—"
"You don't know that," Roy cut in hastily, a spike of anxiety making him suddenly jittery. He imagined that too; the potential reactions of his team, the potential shock, disgust, judgement. He imagined seeing the disappointment on their faces, that Roy wasn't the man they'd thought they were supporting.
He couldn't afford to lose his team.
"It's not just that, either," he added, his hands shaking both from the anxiety and the alcohol. "It's too risky, what if it gets leaked to the papers? What if it reaches the Fuhrer? What if—"
Riza raised her palm, and Roy shut up immediately. "I understand your concerns. It's certainly something to keep in mind, but the team will be okay with it." She said that as though she'd specifically make sure they were. Roy had never felt more grateful for Riza Hawkeye. "As for the rest of the world; yes, you may have to keep it under wraps for a while, but the more people you have helping you hide it, the easier it'll be. Hiding things from the general public isn't hard; you've been doing it for years already."
It was true. Roy was a master at hiding his plans and his personal life. Hell, he was so good at hiding who he was. He'd been doing it for pretty much his whole life. And he did it so well, he'd even hidden who he was from himself.
Over the years, he'd woven such an intricate web of lies and half-truths it was highly likely that, even if something did get leaked to the papers about him and Ed, there was a good chance no one would believe it. Not without irrefutable proof, anyway.
And damage control; Roy was a master at that, too.
He took a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was suddenly full of hope. He felt ready to act, ready to run all the way to Ed's dorm and scoop him up and apologise and tell him that he could do it, all of it, anything he wanted.
It must've all shown on his face, because Riza smiled at him and went to stand. "It appears you've made your decision."
Roy swallowed, blinked, shook his head. "I'm drunk, I can't make any decisions right now."
Riza's smile widened. "Yes, that's true." She reached forward for the almost empty bottle of whiskey. "But at least you don't need this anymore."