His head was pounding by the time he was done. He had no idea what time it was, but he'd sat here, on his bed, his back hunched over until it stiffened up, scribbling and planning and analysing.

And he'd done it. He had a very compelling plan, filled with backup plans and damage control plans and potential situations—and plans for those—that included him getting the Fuhrership while also having Ed.

He sighed, heavily, and flopped down on the bed, onto his poor back.

But there was one small flaw in this plan; just because he'd written it all down didn't mean he had the guts to go to Ed and…what? Demand he come back? Ask him nicely? Beg him?

There wasn't even a guarantee that Ed would want to come back, not after what Roy had put him through. Maybe, in his head, he'd written him off with an I Tried label, and didn't want to think about Roy again.

Or maybe he felt as shitty as Roy was currently feeling. Maybe he missed Roy just as much as Roy missed him. Maybe he was lying in bed like Roy was right now wishing they were together. Maybe—

Roy could go on all day with that sort of daydreaming. But that was all it was; a daydream. If he wanted to know for sure how Ed would react to seeing him, he'd have to…actually go to him.

Was he going to sink that low? Was he truly going to run after Ed like a kicked puppy to tell him please come back I got spooked? He'd never hear the end of it. But maybe that was what he deserved, really.

He looked out the window, absently, his mind more scrambled than it had ever been. It was dark now, outside. He'd been furiously scribbling for so long he'd had to switch on the bedside lamp.

He couldn't possibly disturb Ed at this hour, right? Yeah, Ed would kick him. Definitely would be unwanted. There wasn't even any point thinking about it right now.

He'd just…come back to the idea tomorrow.

Procrastination was an art form.

It wasn't formally recognised as such, obviously, but the way Roy evaded responsibilities truly deserved some sort of recognition. It was a skill. A skill he possessed, a skill he knew very, very well. He was the king of said skill.

Roy had woken up really early on Sunday morning, full of nervous energy and adrenaline but—he couldn't possibly go to Ed this early. Ed wouldn't appreciate it if Roy woke him up early on a Sunday morning. He'd barely tolerated being woken up when Roy needed to go to work while they'd been soul bonded.

Yeah, absolutely should wait until lunch.

But when lunch came around, he hesitated yet again. Because what if Ed had gone out for lunch? What if Roy turned up at the dorms—which was already a terrifying prospect to in and of itself—and knocked on Ed's dorm room door and no one answered? That would be…humiliating.

So he put it off until dinner. But at that point, he started feeling apprehensive about the whole plan. Maybe he hadn't thought it out well enough. Maybe simply turning up at the dorms wasn't the best thing to do; people would see him, and if Ed decided to curse him out and tell him where to shove it he didn't want anyone being a witness to it, never mind Privates and Second Lieutenants.

Perhaps the best plan was to call Ed, and ask him to come here? But how could he demand Ed come all the way here, when Roy had been the one to tell him to leave in the first place?

And then all of a sudden it was going dark again, Sunday slowly coming to an end, and all Roy had done was panic stare at the wall.

But tomorrow was Monday, which meant work, and responsibility, and turning up at the office in his current state would…undoubtedly let everyone know he maybe wasn't feeling so well, and Riza would know for sure that he hadn't spoken to Ed because that woman knew everything, and then Roy would feel so bad he might drink again.

And he'd promised himself he wouldn't.

Unless Ed told him he never wanted to see him again. Then maybe he'd drink. But that would be understandable, right?

He couldn't blame his headache on the hangover this time. He'd woken up mostly fine, but the headache had begun after he'd started thinking too hard.

He'd been told, once, very bluntly and with more than a hint of annoyance, that procrastination could be beaten by counting to three and then doing the thing without thinking about it. Like ripping off a plaster.

Maybe this was an occasion where he had to rip off a plaster, and not think about anything, and just blindly follow the plan, even as the world was on fire around him and everything was crumbling.

He stared at his notebook on the kitchen table in front of him, only just having finished his Xingese takeaway.

Maybe, just maybe, going to the dorms on a weekday would give him an excuse. Going on a Sunday would be weird, right? Whereas on a glorious, random Monday, he could claim he needed his subordinate for a job. And yes, he could call, but Ed was certainly not the best at picking up the phone.

It was going dark now, anyway, and tomorrow was a perfectly respectable day.

Yes, what an excellent plan.

Monday rolled around, and Roy was beginning to dread his plan. More importantly, he was regretting not ripping off the proverbial plaster yesterday.

Because the thing he'd forgotten to take into account was that going to work included working, and Roy had already established he was unable to do that when things were weird with Ed.

And things were, needless to say, weird with Ed.

The moment he turned up at the office and his eyes caught Riza's, he knew he'd been caught. It wasn't that she'd looked at him a certain way or anything, but he just knew. He'd focused on getting himself together on the walk to the office, and for the most part he'd thought he'd done a good job, considering the circumstances.

Until Riza looked at him, that was.

The truth was, Roy was miserable. In general. In life. He wasn't happy, not really. He always said he was fine, and most of the time he truly was, but lately he'd been slowly realising that maybe his 'fine' was different than other people's. It was a bit closer to miserable than what it probably should be.

And right now, he was acutely aware of that fact. Havoc and Breda were, as usual, slacking, and giggling at something Havoc had under the table. Roy wouldn't be surprised if it was an adult magazine. He'd caught them with that before. Like children.

"Good morning," he greeted, possibly a bit belatedly, but it caused Havoc and Breda to snap to attention and pretend they had been working this entire time. Not that he cared right now. Roy couldn't find it in him to care about anything but Ed, and the way he'd fucked up his personal life like usual.

He avoided Riza's eyes and entered the inner office. The moment he let himself pathetically slump in his chair like a man headed for the gallows, Riza emerged again, holding a stack of paperwork.

She placed it on the desk, and Roy kept his head down, avoiding damning eye contact. But Riza didn't leave. She stared at him, silent, until Roy felt awkward and lifted his gaze. "Can I help you with anything?"

Riza narrowed her eyes at him. "You haven't spoken to him."

See? He knew she'd know. It was slightly creepy.

Roy cleared his throat, straightening his spine. His fingers fiddled with his pen. "I…could not decide on the right time."

"What are you waiting for?"

Roy gulped. He was too sober for a confrontation like this. And it was way too early. "I've decided to give him some space. Surely it would be—"

"Sir." Riza shut him up immediately, and he looked up at her hesitantly, feeling slightly like a scolded child. "This is the one time I would rather you procrastinate paperwork."

And somehow that made Roy feel ashamed. Ashamed that he was being called out for exactly what he was doing; putting off talking to Ed and twisting it to seem like he was being a considerate human being. No, Roy was always selfish. It was an innate trait. It was what came naturally to him. He wouldn't fool Riza with that.

The truth was he was putting it off because he was scared. Because he liked going into things with the outcome already predicted, with every chess piece in the right position and moving in the right order to reach the desired, preplanned outcome. But Ed wasn't a chess piece he could move wherever he liked. He'd never been able to predict Ed's next move, could barely get him in line with how Roy wanted him to act. He could never use Ed the way he used others; he'd always had to ask for Ed to act a certain way, and Ed had to agree to do it.

So this situation was throwing Roy off balance. He wanted to go to Ed and ask him to come back, tell him his plan even though it was insane and wishful thinking, and would require so much of Ed he wasn't sure it was even fair to ask. There was a high chance Ed would tell him to fuck off, and Roy would have no other option but to accept it.

He kept thinking of his plan, again and again, making sure it was foolproof, making sure he'd thought of every possible scenario, and how to address it. The way he'd handle the press. The way he'd handle the military. His team. His family. The world.

Roy didn't think of best case scenarios where everything went perfect. He always was of the opinion that the best case scenario was the one that happened when you'd planned perfectly against the worst case scenarios.

But he couldn't help but think, this time, of the perfect case scenario, of Ed being so happy Roy turned up, of telling him, cheekily, that he took his damn time, and them going back home together. Ed would accept his plan without a breath to think and everything would work out fine.

Wishful thinking, he knew, but his heart beat with the hope.

"Go," he heard Riza say, softly, and it snapped him out of his whirling thoughts.

He looked up at her, at her soft smile and her caring eyes. "Now?" he asked incredulously. "I couldn't possibly, it's the middle of the work day—"

Riza waved her hand, her gaze sliding to the mount of paperwork on the desk. "You're useless like this anyway."

Roy wasn't sure he'd felt so nervous about a social interaction in his life.

It wasn't necessarily that he enjoyed socialising, but he knew he was good at it. He always knew what to say, always knew how to handle situations. He was a fine leader, a very good manipulator, and excellent with giving people exactly the amount of information he wanted them to know. It was that affinity that left him feeling energised and smug.

With Ed, all that charisma flew out the window. And what was left was vulnerable, raw, insecure little Roy, who felt pathetic as he knocked on Ed's door room door.

He'd never felt more exposed, more ridiculous.

People looked at him. It was normal; a General, and Roy Mustang himself at that, walking the stinky halls of Central military dormitories was a very rare sight indeed. But it added to Roy's discomfort—it made him feel almost paranoid.

At least the hallways weren't particularly busy. He'd only come across around five people so far, and they'd all gawked at him for a second before snapping mediocre salutes. Perhaps it was a good thing he'd come in the middle of the work day after all; most people would be at Headquarters.

As he waited outside Ed's room, his palms sweaty and his heart pounding in his chest, the hallway was blissfully empty.

After what felt like an eternity and a solid moment of cowardice almost powerful enough to have him turning on his heel and running away with his tail between his legs, the door cracked open.

Ed stood before him, hair loose. He was wearing Roy's sweats and a pale blue t-shirt. The colour suited him. All colours suited him. He was simply stunning as he blinked at Roy, his face unable to hide the flash of surprise. It left in a mere second, replaced by something a lot more closed.

Ed was guarded. They were the same, he realised. Both guarding their hearts, in their own way, for their own reasons. Both reluctant to give too much of themselves in case it was stomped on and kicked to the kerb.

But something had to give.

"Come home."

That had been his voice, but it hadn't felt like it. Shit, he hadn't meant to start off like that. He'd had a script, things he'd wanted to say, in a specific order…That had sounded too abrupt, too demanding, too—

Ed blinked at him, shifting slightly—awkwardly?—and Roy's eyes slid behind him, then, further into the room and settled on…Alphonse.

Al looked like a deer in headlights as he gave Roy an awkward little smile. "Hi, sir."

He felt the heat searing up his neck. "Hello, Alphonse."

How fucking embarrassing.

Ed's lips twitched up and then twisted in that way of his, when he was stifling a smile. He was inwardly laughing at him.

"Glad you're here to retrieve Brother. He's been moping around long enough."

"Al."

"You should've heard the call I got—"

"Al," Ed said quickly, twisting to glare at his brother. "Leave."

Al smirked, winking. "Yeah, probably a good idea."

Ed blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. "Go."

"Okay, okay." Al raised his palms placatingly, and walked past Roy as though nothing was out the ordinary. "I'll go for a walk. A long one."

"Bye, Al," Ed yelled pointedly, before dragging Roy inside by his sleeve and banging the door shut.

And then…silence.

The script had evaporated from his mind, Ed's presence making his brain stutter so dangerously. He had to keep his focus. He couldn't get distracted by Ed's presence, his proximity, his scent, his—

Roy swallowed his nerves just as Ed said, "I told him, by the way."

Roy found it safer not to look at him, so his stared at a weird stain on the carpet. "I don't blame you."

He'd wanted to tell him he'd told Riza, right? That had been part of the plan. But Ed made Roy's words disintegrate so easily.

"He knew anyway, though," Ed said quickly, the red flush on his cheeks returning. Roy took a breath. "He'd figured something was happening when we first arrived in Resembool soul bonded."

Roy took a moment to digest that. Nothing had been happening then. He and Ed hadn't…Well, apart from that one kiss, and Ed getting in his bed and trying to get his hand down Roy's pants.

Okay, maybe something had been happening and Roy had been too obtuse to see it.

Silence stretched again, Roy belatedly realising he should say something, but all his brain wanted to say was come home again.

Ed glanced at him before looking back to the side. He was also avoiding looking at him. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

This was his moment. This was it. What he'd been planning for all weekend. The script—

"I told you, I want you to come home."

—That was not the script. Fuck.

Ed frowned, predictably confused, because Roy had jumped ten sentences ahead in the script.

He took another breath. "I'm sorry."

That was a better start.

Ed shifted, his head lowering so he was staring at his feet. His hands were buried deep in his pants's pockets, and he looked more awkward than he'd ever been around Roy.

Roy hated it.

"And what about your job?" Ed said. "Or your reputation? Or the team—"

"I told Hawkeye."

That rushed out of him in one breath, and now golden eyes were finally on him again, wide and surprised. "Really?"

Roy swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't going to give the details on how and why, at least not right now, but…"Yes."

Ed's exhale was a whoosh of air. But Roy was on a roll, so he didn't let him speak. "If you wish to tell the team, I can…become okay with that. But we can't be public, not for a while."

"I know that…"

And then he thought of how Ed had gotten annoyed at him when Roy was too paranoid to walk with him to the park, or to eat out with him. "There can't be any PDA, I can't be around you publicly too much or it'll raise suspicion—"

Ed looked at him incredulously. "You think I want PDA? I think everyone should mind their damn business."

I want to hold your hand, Roy thought, and with a sinking feeling in his chest realised that perhaps he would've liked a bit of PDA. Goddamn it.

He couldn't stop here. He had to lay it all out on the table, and then give Ed a choice; return to Roy on those terms, or leave permanently. So he continued.

"I will need to go out with my sisters."

Ed snorted. "You can go out with your sisters, for fuck's sake—"

"The press will frame it differently, and I need it to stay that way, for a little while longer."

Ed shrugged, in a truly casual manner. Somehow, it made the iron-tight grip wrapped around Roy's lungs loosen its grip just the slightest. Ed hadn't told him to fuck off yet; things were going well.

Ed's lips twitched up in a little smirk. "As long as you come home to me every night I don't care."

Roy's lungs filled with sweet, sweet oxygen, and he dared say, "If you're in my house, I will."

Ed's smirk softened, turning into an affectionate lopsided smile.

But then Roy realised what remained for him to say. The one thing that would truly make or break this—he had left it for last, he had subconsciously procrastinated yet another thing.

But as the words reached the tip of his tongue, he hesitated. Considered backtracking. Because what he was about to ask of Ed was perhaps too much; who was he to ask such a thing from him? It had been fine writing it down in his notebook, planning everything perfectly—but the truth was, in practice, it sounded…too much.

He hadn't planned a backup for this; this was it. If he backtracked now he'd have to go home and think himself into circles again trying to find a possible alternative, and he knew that, really, there wasn't one. Ed might tell him to fuck off, but Roy had to lay it all out on the table.

"You would have to retire from the military."

He held his breath as he watched Ed's face, trying to find…any sort of emotion. Shock, disbelief, annoyance, anger…

Ed studied him, his face serious in that way of his that meant his brilliant mind was at work.

He'd tried to work around it, tried to find a solution that would enable Ed to stay as a soldier, but even simply moving command wouldn't be enough, not with their reputations. The fraternisation rule was solid, and people who hated him would find a way to use it against him whether Ed was under his command or not. It was too dangerous to risk it.

He didn't let Ed speak, his heart beating too hard in his chest. He rushed to explain himself. "I totally understand if you aren't willing to do that. It is perfectly understandable. But for you and I to be together without endangering my position to its maximum, it wouldn't be enough for you to simply move command; if any Generals found out about us they'd twist it so it seems like it started much, much earlier, and you quitting the military altogether and pursuing other avenues would—"

"Roy."

"But please, if you choose to tell me to fuck off at least try to understand where I'm coming from."

Please don't hate me.

He held his breath entirely as he and Ed stared at each other. Ed wasn't saying anything and it was freaking Roy out. Ed always had something to say.

But maybe he was just thinking about it. It was understandable; Roy had just asked him to quit his job for him. It was ludicrous that those words had even dared come out of his mouth. How dare he be so selfish—

"I'm sorry," he rushed to say, uncomfortably pulling at his collar. Damn military jackets. "I've undoubtedly made you uncomfortable—" He'd fucked it, that was what he'd done. "—if you wish to switch command and never talk to me again I understand—"

"No."

And just like that Roy's heart fell to his stomach, hard and fast. He'd come here expecting disappointment, but damn…this was—he was crestfallen.

"I'd rather quit than be ordered around by some other bastard."

And that made Roy blink, because that had sounded like Ed was saying—

"Ed," Roy said slowly, because had Ed even realised what he'd just said had sounded like? Knowing Ed, he was accidentally giving Roy false hope he was about to squash into a pulp in about a second. "What are you—"

"Shut up."

"But Ed, you can't just give up your livelihood on a whim—"

"Roy, shut up." Roy shut up, and stared at Ed incredulously. A faint hint of pink rose on Ed's cheeks, and he crossed his arms, acting unbothered. "You can bring me books from the library when I want them anyway. It's basically the only reason I'm still in the damn military. I hate that shit. I'm not even an alchemist anymore—I don't need the pity title."

Roy didn't agree with that last bit. At all.

"But," Ed added, his lips twitching up. "You have to pay for everything until I find something else."

"I've always paid for everything," Roy felt the need to add. Not that he actually minded; he was privileged enough for his General salary to easily cover both of his and Ed's expenses. Especially since he lived in such a modest house.

Ed smirked. "Okay, smartass."

Roy could only stare at Ed in something akin to shock and wonder. Because this…Ed had just…Ed had just agreed to quit his job for Roy, had agreed to be in a relationship where he needed to be kept a secret for Roy, had agreed to…way too much. And what was Roy offering him in return?

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and tried, one last time, just to relieve even a fraction of this guilt. "Ed, are you sure? This is too much to ask, you'll resent me—"

"I said I fucking won't."

Roy wasn't convinced. He knew Ed rarely truly hated anyone; he disliked people, sure, but hate was such a strong word and Ed had too much empathy for that. But still. God, if Ed ever reached the point of hating him no Fuhrership would be enough to keep him living.

Ed came closer then, so confidently, until he was in Roy's personal space—like he owned that space.

He did. He really, really did.

He placed his hands on Roy's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Is this the only way? The only way for you to just relax a bit, to not freak the fuck out over every little thing?"

Roy took a breath. "Yes, it's the only way."

Ed nodded, removing his hands from Roy's shoulders. "Then I'll retire."

And Roy just stared. And stared. And stared. "Why?" he found himself asking. And he sounded so lost, so confused, even to his own ears. Because why would Ed do all this, for him?

Ed's cheeks turned bright red, and he averted his gaze for a second, taking a deep breath, and—

"Cause I love you too, idiot."

Roy wasn't sure what he was feeling in that moment. Relief? Numbness? Happiness? Elation. Like he was floating, a bit. Like what he was seeing and hearing wasn't entirely real. Because Ed had just—

"Say it again."

Ed blushed harder, glaring up at him quickly before squirming. "I said I love you too, idiot."

Roy's brain didn't even mind the emphasis on idiot. "But I thought…" His brain stuttered as he tried to piece everything together, to recreate his reality to include Ed loving him this entire time. "When I said it I thought you didn't…"

Ed scowled at him, but it didn't have the desired effect with his cheeks bright red. "I was shocked, you idiot, cause you fucking dumped that on me after giving me a load of shit about how we shouldn't be together! Being in love is not a reason not to be with someone, how did that ever make any fucking sense?"

It is a reason when you convince yourself it's unrequited, Roy thought, but smartly kept his mouth shut.

Ed exasperatedly ran a hand through his hair. "You can't go from saying you can't do this anymore to saying you…Holy fuck you're impossible."

Roy grinned then. It felt as though his feelings had been delayed, but now the happiness flowed through him easily, and he felt giddy and hopeful and drunk.

He grabbed Ed so fast Ed audibly yelped, and then his fingers were threading through his silky hair and his mouth was on his soft lips and he felt right again.

Ed grabbed onto his uniform so tight he may just rip it. Roy didn't care. He didn't care about anything but Ed and the way he was kissing Roy with an aggression that was undoubtedly punishing—for what Roy had put him through, for being the thickest smart idiot on the planet, for taking almost three whole days to come crawling back after making the mistake of telling him to leave.

He would not be making that mistake again.

Ever.