Chapter Text
“Ed,” Al says threateningly.
Ed swallows and presses his lips together in a very grim expression. “Don’t ‘Ed’ me.”
Al rolls his eyes. “Brother. Far be it from me to judge your choices, but…”
“Then don’t.” Ed crosses his arms and slumps back in his chair heavily. The sandwich sitting in front of him has kind of lost its appeal. “It was your idea to go out with Jim, anyway.”
“Oh no. Don’t put this on me.” Al jabs a finger at him over his chicken salad. The only upside is that they’re sitting inside a cafe that is way too intimate for Al to feel like it’s appropriate to raise his voice. He death-threats-are-imminent-whispers instead. “I thought, foolishly, that if you went out with Jim, you would be committing to a steady, normal boyfriend. The point was stability, Ed, not chaos.”
“There’s no chaos.”
“Not yet. Does he even know you’re sleeping with someone else?” Al pointedly doesn’t say who.
Ed shakes his head. “I’ll break it off if he wants to get serious with me.”
“Break it off with which one of them? Ed!” He throws up his hands. “That statement didn't even include what you might want. I just don’t get it. Why are you being like this?”
“Because I’m a selfish asshole,” Ed says.
Al sighs feelingly. “No, you’re not. You’re self-sacrificing, and noble, and care so, so much. It makes you act like an asshole sometimes, but you aren’t one. I wish you thought more of yourself. I wish you respected yourself more, instead of trying to make everyone else happy at your expense—myself included. Maybe then you wouldn’t settle for what little that man deigns to give you,” Al says. They both know he means Mustang.
“Don’t put this on him” Ed argues back. “He’s done more for us than I can ever repay.”
Al looks shocked. “Is that what you think? That’s not why you’re sleeping with him, is it? Because you think you owe him something?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why?”
“You don’t know him like I do. You weren’t there after the Promised Day, seeing him…vulnerable…and treating me like he trusted me with his weaknesses. When he offered me a tangible option. He knew I’d never be happy in Resembool clinging to you and Winry for the rest of my life. But he never pushed, Al, never. He just opened up to me instead—for real. I had… I had always wanted that, from him. I don’t want to leave his side. I believe in him.” Al sits unmoving, lips pressed thin. Ed continues. “I know you’re only being uncharitable to him right now because you don’t want me to get hurt. I know you think more of him than that. You can’t say that he’s given so little, not when he’s given me so much.”
Alphonse looks down, brow furrowed. His hands are resting lightly on the edge of the table. Ed can see him twisting his fingers together while he thinks. “Oh,” Al says. “You love him.”
With Al, there’s no point in lying. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know.” His brother looks up at him. “I’m sorry. I should have.”
Ed sighs and rests his chin in his hand. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve been lying to myself a long time. I didn’t even realize until I… Well, it’s not the kind of revelation you want to be having during the best orgasm of your life.”
“Brother.” Al covers his face with both hands, but Ed can see the tips of his ears turn red. He decides to have mercy on him and shuts up while his brother recovers and sips his iced tea. “You’re right. I know he cares about and respects you. I said this before, but if you want to tell him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way, I think he’ll listen. He’ll understand.”
“What would be the point? He won’t want to fuck me anymore and things will be weird.”
“Perhaps, but won’t you feel better for having done it? I know you value honesty,” Al presses. “If it turns out that way, then at least you can move on.”
Ed shakes his head. “I don’t want anything to change.”
“Things already have changed, though. Someone is going to get hurt. I don’t want it to be you.”
“I deserve it,” Ed mumbles. “Listen, Al. If Jim asks me to be exclusive, I promise I’ll stop seeing Mustang.”
Al rolls his eyes. “I don’t want you to promise me something you don’t want. But fine. Just…please warn me if you’re planning on having sex at my place.”
Ed grins and promises nothing, just to be a little shit about it.
+
Maybe it’s telling that once again he and Roy are too busy to see each other for their extracurricular activities, and that another Friday is already rolling around before he knows it’s happened. He tries talking himself out of the anxiety that Roy’s been busy on purpose ever since that night at the restaurant, because realistically the whole team has been burning the midnight oil.
In deference to Jim going out with them tonight, Ed asks Hawkeye if she can make sure everyone knows to go to the closer bar, not Chris’s. There are—admittedly a lot of—things that are too personal for Ed to share, Chris Mustang and her brood being one of them. It’s also probably telling that he hasn’t even considered sharing them, even after his conversation with Roy in the bathroom the other night.
The team files into the dim, familiar space around nineteen-hundred and Ed is not the only one dragging his feet. They’re all exhausted. But Friday night in Central is already in full swing and the bar is crowded. They loiter for a few minutes and order the first round, before Fuery spots a table opening up and they hustle over to claim it. Between all of them they manage to sweet talk a few extra chairs from other parties before settling in comfortably. Other than the still-empty chair right beside Ed, they are shoulder to shoulder. He feels himself relaxing in spite of the nerves that have also been percolating in the pit of his stomach.
Right about the time he starts itching to check his pocket watch, he spots a familiar brunette head bobbing through the crowd towards them. His heart picks up the pace and his throat tightens. So much for relaxing.
Ed stands up and reaches out to touch Jim’s forearm as the taller man approaches. He has a blinding smile on and eyes seemingly only for Ed, which is sweet and cute and things Ed doesn’t really feel like he deserves. As has quickly become the norm with them, Jim leans forward to kiss Ed’s cheek.
Breda lets loose a low wolf whistle. Ed whips around to glare at him, though the man is smiling sincerely up at him. They all kind of are. Maybe for once in their lives Ed’s bunch of assholes is going to try to make a polite first impression.
“Oh, so the Boss is a bottom,” Havoc says as he sizes Jim up.
Nevermind.
Jim, for his part, just laughs and leans over to shake Havoc’s hand when it’s offered, while Ed mutters under his breath.
“Hi, I’m James.” He shakes hands all around while Hawkeye manages the introductions with her usual efficiency.
“It’s so nice to meet you, James. I’m Riza. This is Jean, Heymans, Kain, and I understand you met Roy already.”
“I did.” Jim nods. Ed pulls him down into the seat next to him. “It’s great to finally meet you all. Ed and Al both speak very fondly of you. Like family, right?”
Hawkeye smiles and glances at Ed. “Very much so.”
“How long have you and Ed been seeing each other?” Fuery asks. Roy scoots away from the table without saying anything and wanders over to the bar.
“Oh, not long. We’ve known each other a couple of years, though.” Jim looks to Ed, who shrugs. “I was friends with Alphonse first. He made fast friends with a lot of the graduate students, actually.”
“He’s very good at that,” Fuery says, smiling.
“Al and I’ve been roommates for a while now. That’s how Ed and I met.” He casually drapes an arm around the back of Ed’s chair. It feels more awkward than comforting, and Ed tries not to fidget. He picks up his beer and drains a decent portion of it instead.
“Lucky man,” Havoc says. “The Boss is a catch.”
Jim laughs and squeezes Ed’s shoulder. “Don’t I know it.”
“Thanks, Havoc,” Ed mumbles.
“No problem, short stuff.”
Ed growls at him, but before he can reach across the table to get a good stranglehold, Roy returns with a fresh pint and slides it over to Jim. Better this way. It’s probably not polite to feign murderous intent in public. Havoc grins like he got away with something, though, so Ed will have to get him back later.
Roy lifts his drink. “To new friends and young love,” he says, locking eyes with Ed.
The team lifts their glasses in turn for a solid round of toasting, but inside Ed feels like his heart is breaking. It’s not supposed to feel like this, right? His chest should be squeezing for a different reason. Jim should be the one making his pulse race and his stomach plummet. Instead, tearing his eyes away from Roy’s feels like he’s ripping his own heart out. It feels like a goodbye. He struggles to keep his face neutral, his smile placid. He raises his glass like everyone else and plays along.
While conversation resumes its usual give and take of banter and shop talk and some getting-to-know-Jim, Ed can’t help withdrawing. He sits there, drawing idle circles in the condensation from his drink, barely listening and not bothering to participate. He knows it’s rude. Normally everyone else is used to how antisocial he gets when he’s brooding, but Jim certainly isn’t, and he’s supposed to be Ed’s guest. They’re all a couple drinks and appetizers in when Jim stops glancing at Ed in concern and leans in close enough to just ask about it.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, ‘course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Ed says, dropping both hands into his lap. He leans back into his chair so he can face Jim a little better, giving them some privacy. No one else pays them any attention.
His…whatever Jim is…reaches up and tucks some of Ed’s hair behind an ear. He shrugs. “You just seem a little off. Is it—I didn’t consider that this really is like meet-the-family for you, huh? It’s okay. I think they like me so far.”
Jim smiles, pleased with himself, then leans forward and presses his lips to Ed’s.
It’s a sweet kiss—short and chaste given it’s their first and they are so far from alone it’s not even funny. Ed freezes up. He can’t help it. He can’t. Regardless, Jim pulls away too soon to really notice.
“Thanks for bringing me to meet them, Ed. It means a lot,” he says softly. He chuckles and tugs on the end of Ed’s ponytail. “Aren’t you glad you took a chance on me?”
He knows Jim is trying to tease him, to be flirty, or whatever. He does his best to smile, even though there are no clever words popping into his head. He has no witty rejoinder or sappy platitude. He has nothing but the yawning pit in his stomach that all but forces him to turn his head and look at Roy.
Mustang’s face is blank, but his eyes are hard and glittering dangerously in the low light while he looks right back. He lifts his drink, takes a sip, and then looks away.
Shame pours into Ed like a swiftly rising tide.
“Excuse me,” he says roughly. He pats Jim’s shoulder placatingly, gets up, and turns on his heel towards the back of the bar where the restroom is.
The hallway is long and darker even than the bar’s interior. Lucky him. No one passing by will be able to see how hot his face is becoming or how glassy his eyes are. He shouldn’t cry. Not about anything stupid. And this is fucking stupid, so he won’t.
He leans against the wall and clenches and unclenches his fists rhythmically to calm down. The right one spasms uncomfortably. He shakes it out with a hiss.
“Fullmetal.”
“Don’t fucking ‘Fullmetal’ me, Bastard,” he says, whipping around.
Roy presses his lips together, but doesn’t come any closer. Even so, the space between them is not nearly enough right now.
“I never meant to make things complicated for you,” Mustang says. “Had I known…”
“What’s so damn complicated about it? You can fuck other people if you want. We’re not exclusive,” Ed says. “Obviously.”
“You let him kiss you, Ed. To me that sounds like things have changed for you. We agreed we would reassess when that happened.” Roy pinches his brow. “And I’m not.”
“Not what?”
Roy looks at him. “Fucking other people. You know that.”
“Why are you saying it like that? What’s that supposed to mean?” Ed demands.
The other man doesn’t back off. In fact, he comes quite a bit closer, forcing Ed back against the wall. Roy’s hands come up to rest against it on either side of Ed’s shoulders. His gaze is heated. He leans in close, but then pauses, and says, “I should never have asked you for this.”
Ed wants to respond. He wants to rage and question and push and pull. But he doesn’t, not when Roy closes even more of the distance between them, such that they’re breathing the same breath. He can almost, almost, feel Roy’s lips on his and it feels like a burn setting in. It tastes like bitter ale and desire.
“I should have known it wouldn’t be enough,” Roy says quietly. Ed swallows and frowns in confusion. “I’m such a fool, Ed. I can’t stand the thought of you fucking anyone else.”
“I’m not,” Ed says, in an almost exact mirror of Roy’s earlier words. “We haven’t.”
“You should. Things should go back to the way they were. You deserve to be happy.”
That snaps something inside him. Ed puts both hands on Roy’s chest and pushes him back—gently—but enough that Mustang releases him and takes a few steps away.
“You don’t get to tell me what I deserve, Roy, and you certainly don’t get to tell me what I want,” Ed says.
Mustang shakes his head. “You’re right. I don’t. Forgive me.” He seems to school himself, releasing a breath that drops his shoulders and straightens his posture. His face has closed off. “I hope you understand. I don’t want our arrangement to get in the way of a real relationship. I’m not comfortable with…well… We shouldn’t continue on like this, but please rest assured there are no hard feelings on my part, Ed. You have and will always be a dear friend. It was nice…spending time with you.”
Ed watches the man he loves turn and walk away from him, the words he knows he should say dying on his tongue.
+
Returning to the table alone is painful. Roy is gone when he gets back, the mood noticeably subdued.
“Geeze, Boss, what did you say to him?” Havoc asks, and Breda elbows him sharply in the side.
“Nothing,” Ed grouches back. “He was just being his usual bastard self. I’m sure he’ll shake it off by Monday.” He turns to Jim. “Can we take off? I’m tired.”
“Of course. Thank you for inviting me,” Jim says to the group as he stands.
“Take care, you two,” Hawkeye says. Ed waves at them without making eye contact and heads towards the door, hoping Jim is following even though he can’t be bothered to turn around and check right now. He’s barely keeping it together as it is. He just wants to get the hell out of here and breathe some fresh air.
The walk back towards HQ, and the dorms, is quiet. Ed kind of hopes Jim will just say something about his foul mood and be done with it, though he doesn’t really know what he wants Jim to say.
He certainly isn’t expecting it when Jim pulls his arm and moves him into a spot against the wall of Central Command where the closest street lamp doesn’t shine quite so harshly. Ed’s back hits the wall. He looks up at his companion in confusion.
Jim kisses him. Ed yelps a bit and Jim pushes his tongue past Ed’s lips. He takes hold of Ed’s jaw, cradling it in both hands while he presses in closer.
Ed lets it happen for a few moments before he pushes the other man away enough to speak. “What are you doing?”
“I want to go home with you, Ed,” Jim breathes.
Ed freezes, hands clenched around Jim’s wrists to hold him still. “What?” he croaks.
“I said I want to go home with you. To have sex. Don’t you want that?” Jim asks.
“I…”
Jim smirks. “Don’t play coy, Ed. I know sex isn’t some special thing for you. Besides, we’re dating. That’s what boyfriends do, after a certain point. Frankly, I thought it would be a lot sooner, given your reputation.”
“My reputation?” Ed gapes.
The other man shrugs and pulls his arms from Ed’s grasp. “Well, yeah. I’ve seen you pick up plenty of men when you come out with us and Al. We all kind of call you a manwhore behind your back.” He laughs.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Ed grits out.
“Of course not. So fucking your boyfriend shouldn’t be such a big deal.” He’s suddenly in Ed’s space again and Ed feels caged against the cold wall. Jim slides his hands up Ed’s chest, up his neck, and into his hair. He kisses Ed again, much harder this time. Ed feels himself lagging behind, slow to respond and unwilling to catch up.
Their lips part with a wet noise and Jim frowns down at him. “What’s the matter?” When Ed can’t find his words fast enough, Jim’s mouth turns down into a grimace. His eyes narrow. “It’s him, isn’t it? I saw you with Mustang earlier, you know. What’s the deal? He was looking at you like you’re a piece of meat or something. He wasn’t coercing you, was he?”
“No, he—”
“That guy scares the crap out of me, I’ll be honest, but if you need me to say something to make him back off, I will. I bet Al would help.”
“That’s not it,” Ed tries again. He knows he’s fighting a losing battle.
“Then what is it? The only other reason why you’d let him into your personal space like that is if you want him to be.” His eyes go wide. Ed tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Jim’s shocked realization. He just breathes. “What the hell, Ed?”
Cold air rushes in where the other man’s warm body used to be. Ed opens his eyes.
Jim runs a hand through his brown hair and looks anywhere but at Ed. “Okay. I…okay. I know you’re not obligated to be with me. It’s not like we really talked about this, but I thought…we were getting serious. Why else would you take me to meet your team?”
I didn’t want to, Ed thinks. Jim’s train of thought is escalating too quickly, though. He’s getting angry and it’s not worth saying something that will only hurt him, too.
“Listen, I know I’m just some nobody who was lucky enough to get even one date with ‘the Fullmetal Alchemist,’ but I didn’t know you were this much of a selfish asshole. You must think you’re better than the rest of us, that you can get anything you want,” he says, waving his hands in the air as he mocks Ed’s title. “Now I see why you’re so chronically single. You’re kind of a dick.”
“I never said I wasn’t.” He doesn’t even try to defend against the rest of it. There’s no point, really. He deserves most of it.
“You didn’t, but Al did. God, do you know how worried he is about you all the time? He doesn’t want you to be alone so badly that he convinced me it would be a good idea to ask you out. It’s no wonder you’re alone. You’re a loser, Ed.” Jim curses, sharp and short, and paces back and forth. “All of that and you didn’t even put out. What a waste of my time.” He rounds on Ed again. “I’m a nice guy, you know, not like Mustang.”
Just like that, Ed goes from passive to angry in a split second. “Don’t say shit about Mustang,” he growls.
“What are you, his lap dog? Maybe the rumors that you fucked your way up the military are true, then,” Jim spits back. “With everything else I know about you, that checks out. It’s not like you’re even a real alchemist anymore. He’s probably only keeping you around because you get on your knees for him. You just wag your tail and roll over, don’t you? You’re disgusting,” he spits. “I don’t want Mustang’s fucking sloppy seconds anyway. Fuck you, Ed.”
He would hit him. He would…except Jim turns and stalks down the sidewalk before Ed can even clench his fist.
Instead he stands there while his breath tears in and out of him, the vapor clouding weakly in the cold evening air. He stands there and thinks, I deserved all of that, and, How dare he say anything about Mustang? And, I can’t even go find Al right now—Al, who will make me feel better even if I did deserve all of that. Because Al lives with Jim. And Ed can’t go to Roy. So Ed is alone.
Fitting. That was one of the accusations. Ed is alone and he’s a loser.
Sounds about right.
Ed tucks his coat tighter around himself and goes home.
+
He still feels keyed up enough to go find Roy and…well, he doesn’t really know what he’ll do if he does. It’s a bad fucking idea regardless and liable to make things worse. Nothing Ed says or does right now will make things between him and the General go back to normal. He just has to live with it.
He lives with it.
For an excruciating week, he lives with it. He waves off Al’s concerned phone calls and doesn't take him up on lunch invitations. He doesn’t make eye contact with Mustang unless strictly necessary. He goes home on time, which is unlike him, but stays up well into the night going over reports and working on his research anyway. He doesn’t sleep much. Getting fucked silly sounds good, but he’s aware that maybe he needs to take a break from…people. He finishes the bottle of whiskey he had stashed in his kitchenette and goes out for another.
He knows everyone can tell something is seriously wrong, but he just needs some time.
Unfortunately, Roy won’t let him have it.
“Edward,” he says after the rest of the team has been dismissed from a meeting. “A moment, please.”
Ed hangs back near the General’s desk as everyone else files out and Hawkeye pulls the door closed behind her. He presses his lips together and grinds his teeth, but otherwise tries to stay expressionless. He can’t show weakness right now, not when he’s standing in front of the one person who could rip him apart so easily.
After a moment where Ed refuses to make eye contact, Mustang sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, sir?” Ed asks politely. His eyes flick up to the older man’s.
Roy’s gaze darkens. “For anything I said out of line the other night. It is not my place to dictate how you live your life outside of this office. Furthermore, I would like to apologize for crossing a serious line with you. Fraternization rules exist for a very good reason, which we have unfortunately just discovered personally. Despite the close nature of this team, I should not have violated those boundaries. Please forgive me.”
Ed stands there and continues to stare.
“I hope,” Mustang continues, “That in time we will be able to move past this and recover our usual amicable working relationship.” He says ‘amicable’ with a little laugh, like it’s an inside joke. “I’d also like to remain friends, as we have been.”
The words Ed would like to say are just…not there. If he opens his mouth now, only the truth will spill out, and then where will he be?
He nods sharply.
Roy smiles, but it’s obviously the fake one he puts on when in the office, and not the one he usually gifts Ed when they’re alone. “Excellent. Well, feel free to go back to being your usual insubordinate self. I’ll admit just this once to missing it.”
And just like that, he’s dismissed.
After closing the inner office door behind him, he forces his shoulders to drop. He flexes the fingers of his right hand, uncaring of who sees. Then, making up his mind, he walks out of the office without looking back, not even when Hawkeye calls his name.
+
He doesn’t bother going back to the office that day. It’s a Friday again anyway and fuck it—he deserves an afternoon off. If Hawkeye is mad about it she’ll most likely read Roy the riot act for whatever he did to piss Fullmetal off. Almost business as fuckin’ usual.
After wandering around Central aimlessly for a while, he meanders his way to Al’s building on campus and plunks down on a nearby bench to wait for him. He doesn’t wait long, though time, as usual when your whole world is collapsing in on itself, is just a construct, so who knows.
Finally the door to the building opens, letting out a stream of students that includes his beloved little brother—Al, whose gaze instantly softens into affection laced with a healthy dose of concern when he sees Ed hunched there looking cold and upset. “Brother,” Al says sadly. He reaches out to ruffle Ed’s hair lightly. “Come on. Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
He allows himself to be led, trusting that Al won’t let him wander into traffic while he stumbles behind him in a daze. Maybe he can’t remember the last time he ate anything of real substance, but he’s not so far gone that permanent harm sounds good.
He gets like this sometimes. Nothing as serious as those first few months after the Promised Day, when recovery was hard, and Al was still so weak, and he felt the aching loss of alchemy like it was another stolen limb. When days passed in a haze of pain where he wouldn’t get out of bed. When he’d spend hours combing through the buried over ashes of their old house looking for salvation from the bleak depression and regrets and guilt his own mind trapped him in like the unending circle of an array. When Roy calling one day finally broke through enough to get him to go buy a train ticket.
Every now and again he feels himself slipping back down. It’s just that, once your brain has had a taste, it never really forgets, and Ed, for all his stubbornness and self-control, is so weak to the comfort old pain brings.
When Al looks over at him, as they’re standing on a street corner waiting to cross, he knows his brother sees it. Right now his feelings taste bitter in his mouth, coppery like a hint of blood.
A cup of coffee will certainly fix that.
Soon enough Alphonse places something sweet and spiked with whipped cream in front of him with a stern look, daring Ed to balk at it. He doesn’t. He folds his hands around it and lets the warmth seep through to soften the ache in his joints.
“What happened?” Al asks.
Ed figures Jim must have said enough—once he cooled off and faced Al—that his brother must know most of it. So he answers with the only truly relevant part, the only part he actually cares about. “Roy ended things.”
Al looks startled. “He did? But, why?”
“Benefits with me got too complicated,” Ed says, forcing a dark chuckle afterwards to make it sound like a hilarious joke. That’s basically what he is, so it’s fitting. “Guess sleeping with me isn’t worth the headache when he could get the same thing or better somewhere else. Don’t know why he started this in the first place.”
“Are you sure that’s why?”
Ed glares at him. “Why else, Al? He saw Jim getting cozied up with me, figured dumping me was in my best interests, meddling bastard that he is, and called it a fucking day. He probably didn’t feel like dealing with my relationship drama. Told me today it was a mistake. ‘Fraternizing with me.’” He says the last bit through a sneer. “He’s always in my fucking business.”
“I think that’s because he cares about you. He does. Don’t argue with me.” Al crosses his arms and gives Ed a Look—capital ‘L.’ “Did it occur to you that perhaps his feelings are hurt?”
“What feelings?” Ed grouches.
Al is not impressed. “His ‘I’m in love with Edward’ feelings,” he grouches back.
“What are you talking about?” Ed’s heart squeezes. He feels a little sick. “He doesn’t have feelings for me.”
“Ed, have you ever seen General Mustang sleep with someone who really matters to him? As far as I can tell, you’re the only close friend he’s ever crossed that line with the entire time we’ve known him. If all he wanted was sex, you said it yourself—he could get that anywhere else.” Al takes a sip of his drink and then raises his eyebrows. “Frankly, I’ve never seen him look twice at anyone in any serious capacity except you and Mr. Hughes.”
He sits up a little straighter. “Maes?”
Al sets his cup down. He looks outside for a moment, then looks down at his hands, which he’s laced together on the tabletop. “Roy was in love with him…a long time ago. I asked Gracia about it after you and I spoke the other day.”
“What…what are you saying, Al?” Ed’s thoughts stutter to a halt.
“I’m saying that I spent a lot of time looking at people, back when I was in the armor, and that man has only loved two people so fiercely that it broke through the facade he shows the rest of the world. I’m sorry it took me so long to put two and two together. I just didn’t know what I was looking at till now.”
Ed pushes back from the table and stands abruptly. “Are you sure? Why would he…?” He runs his hands through his bangs and squeezes his eyes shut. “Why didn’t he just tell me? Fuck, Al. I…I don’t think I can live without him. If I’d known, I’d… Everything would be different.”
“I think the important thing right now is what you do next, Brother.” Al looks up at him, face serious, but otherwise unreadable. He’s not going to give Ed any easy answers. Still, he’s merciful enough to give a hint. “I’ll see you Sunday, then?”
Ed’s already pulling on his coat. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Sure. Of course.” He fumbles for the chain clipped at his waist, checks the time, then snaps his pocket watch shut. “Thanks, Al. Love you.”
Alphonse smiles. That’s all he needs, really. At least for right now, when he could use a little extra strength.
As the door to the cafe swings shut behind him, Ed takes off at a jog towards Roy’s townhouse.
+
“Did you really only want to fuck around with me because it was convenient? Because I was there and serially unattached, just like you?” Ed blurts when the door swings open, before he loses his nerve, before he leads with ‘I love you,’ before he leaves himself open to more pain.
“Ed,” Roy breathes. He looks startled, for once showing how much Ed has caught him off guard. It’s gratifying, or it would be, if Ed had the wherewithal to notice over his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
“You know why, right? Why I don’t do relationships… It’s you. You’re the reason why I never spend more than one night with someone, why I never let anyone get too close, why I didn’t take off as soon as I had the chance and never looked back. My whole life revolves around you, which, before you get all noble on me, is the way I want it. So…fuck it. If that’s all it was, fine. I can accept that. But be honest with me.” Ed exhales a ragged breath. “You’re kinda it for me, one way or another.” He laughs, but it sounds so very bitter.
His General stands immobile in the open doorway and framed by the golden light spilling from the sitting room down the hall, just breathing for a moment and watching him closely. It makes him look so imposing, the way only his silhouette is really lit. It reminds Ed suddenly of that day under Central Command, when Roy was lit by flame, instead, and with the incandescent rage of losing Maes. A lot of things make more sense now. “Come inside?” Roy asks. He stands back and opens the door wider in invitation.
“Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” He suddenly feels stupid and awkward with nothing more eloquent to say, so he quickly ducks his head as he jogs up the stairs and slips past Roy without touching him. He toes off his boots, just to be polite, not because he thinks he’ll be staying long, while Roy closes and locks the door behind them.
“Can I get you anything?” Roy asks, eyeing him. He looks a bit like someone who isn’t sure if the animal they’ve cornered is going to bite them or not.
Ed gives him a feral, mean-looking grin just to lean into it. “No. I’d rather just get this over with.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “So.”
Neither of them moves nor speaks for a few moments.
“Are you going to answer the fucking question?” Ed asks, fighting his impatience.
“Which one?” Roy says cautiously.
There’s only really one that matters, so Ed just asks it. “Do you love me?”
For once, his bastard doesn’t dance around it. “Yes.”
Oh.
“Okay,” Ed says. The breath rushes out of him in one big sigh of relief. Suddenly he feels drained and so, so tired.
“...Okay?” The older man looks both bemused and deeply wary at the same time, which startles Ed into laughing before he can help himself. Roy frowns. “Ed, are you—?”
“You’d better kiss me, then,” he says, getting a handle on himself. “Or else I think I might go off the fucking deep end here.”
He expects Roy to smile, or pull him in immediately. He doesn’t expect Roy’s frown to deepen, and for the man to glance away as hurt flashes across his face. “Edward, don’t play with me. You’re seeing someone else. You let him kiss you.”
“No, listen to me. I lied to you, okay? I couldn’t let you kiss me, because if you did I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep things the way you wanted them, with no…feelings, commitments, whatever. I wouldn’t have been able to hide how I feel from you. I shouldn’t have said yes that first time, and I certainly shouldn’t’ve kept saying yes. I was being so stupid, Roy. Stupid and selfish. I wanted you so much I thought I’d take anything you wanted to give, but I couldn’t…” His next breath in is hard in his throat. He blinks rapidly to keep his vision clear, because he really feels like he’s going to fucking cry. “Maybe I never would have worked up the courage to tell you how I feel without any of this happening, I don’t know. But Al was right. At least now, even if you don’t want me, I’ve told you. And that will have to be enough.”
Roy steps forward and lifts both hands to cup Ed’s face. He brushes his thumbs beneath Ed’s lashes, catching some of the dampness.
“I tried so hard not to love you, Roy. I swear I did.” The moment he closes his mouth, swallowing hard, he feels himself break open. He squeezes his eyes shut as hot tears finally spill down his cheeks and meet Roy’s fingertips. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I know. Hush, darling, I know.” Roy pulls him in and wraps his arms around him. For all the times they’ve been intimate with each other, it’s never been like this. They’ve never embraced each other when it wasn’t about the sex. It feels just as safe as Ed has always imagined. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been just as selfish.” He kisses the top of Ed’s head. “What does it say about us that we’re so similar, yet so blind when it comes to each other?”
Ed sniffles and laughs. He squeezes Roy’s waist tight. “A couple of idiots.”
“Mm. Truer words…” Roy says before trailing off.
They stand there for a long time, just holding each other in the hallway, and Ed allows himself to relax in Roy’s arms, to release all the fear and anxiety sitting heavy on his shoulders, to settle into the feeling of being loved by the one he loves. Roy strokes gentle fingertips along the nape of Ed’s neck, lips pressed into his hair.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to roast that kid,” Roy murmurs after a while.
Ed laughs again. His eyes have dried and his cheeks are itchy from the salt. “No, I have a pretty good idea.”
Roy pulls away, helps Ed shed his coat, and leads him into the sitting room, where they sit down and Roy pulls a warm knit blanket across their laps. They snuggle down with each other, until Ed is fully enveloped in Roy’s arms again, practically in his lap, and their feet tangle together. He can feel from his flesh one the way Roy doesn’t shy away from touching the automail. It’s probably going to put his foot to sleep soon with the way the metal is resting against Roy’s toes. Ed smiles.
“Do I have Alphonse to thank for this?” Roy asks, and chuckles when Ed pokes him in the ribs to retaliate.
“Yes,” he admits anyway. “Kinda. And Hawkeye?”
“And Gracia. There may have been threats involved. It’s no surprise you’re a braver man than I, but…I would have sought you out eventually. I figured you needed some space away from me after the way we ended things. I thought perhaps, in time, when you and James had been together for a while, I might tell you the real reason I had to stop seeing you, in the hopes that by then you would brush it off—maybe laugh at me, or curse me out—but that you might forgive me for daring to fall in love with you.”
“Presumptuous of you,” Ed half-jokes.
“Truly. My ego knows no bounds.”
“Might as well thank Jim, as well, while you’re at it. He saw us almost kiss in the hallway that night. Really tore into me after that, not that I didn’t deserve it.”
Roy doesn’t comment on that, but he does nose at Ed’s temple, which is disgusting and cute. “I wanted to kiss you so very badly.”
“Me, too,” Ed admits.
“I have half a mind to make you wait for it now, though,” Roy says to tease him.
Ed growls up at him. “Try it. I dare you.”
The bastard smirks and presses his lips to Ed’s cheek instead. “Sounds fun,” he murmurs when he retreats. He doesn’t pull back far, though. His breath ghosts across Ed’s flushed skin as his eyes flick down to Ed’s lips and back up. Ed’s cheeks burn, but he can’t be embarrassed when he’s so happy.
“Kiss me,” he says.
“Hmm,” Roy says. His lips twitch back into that stupid smirk that Ed loves so much.
“Kiss me,” Ed demands.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that, you bast—”
Roy kisses him.
Maybe later he’ll find time to be annoyed that Roy did it to shut him up. Maybe.
For now, though, he’ll fall into Roy’s embrace and let everything else wash away.
+
They stand in the elevator in comfortable silence, hand in hand, having foregone gloves even in the pre-winter chill just so they can feel each other’s bare skin. Ed’s fingers are going a little numb on his other hand, where he’s clutching a wine bottle tight to his chest.
Roy squeezes his fingers around Ed’s when the doors slide open to Gracia’s floor.
The other night Ed didn’t bother going home. To be quite frank, he isn’t sure how much time he’ll be spending at his dorm in the coming months. If Roy has anything to say about it, he’d probably already be moving him in. Both of them are a little intense, and neither of them do anything by halves. Assuming they can get along enough to date each other—which he’s really not worried about, not after years of traveling for missions and hangouts at Chris’s and lots of late nights pouring over reports—well, Ed’s not sure he’s the marrying type, but he’s pretty sure Roy is. So.
Either way Ed’s in it for the long haul, come hell or high water, and nothing but death is going to separate him from Roy now. That was probably true before now, too, but Roy has certainly already figured that out.
Roy lets them into the apartment for Sunday night dinner and calls out in greeting, and then Elicia is barreling down the hallway on her lanky preteen legs until she spots them, stops short, and her jaw drops.
She looks back and forth between them, down to their still-joined hands, then back up. Her eyes go wide as she asks, “Wait, really?”
“Really,” Roy says. He smiles at her, all big and warm.
Elicia squeals and darts forward to wrap her arms around both of them. They do their best to hug back, both of them laughing with easy delight.
She smushes her cheek into Roy’s chest. “Mom told me I should stop teasing you about being married, but I knew it, I knew it. The princes always get a happy ending.” She gasps and pulls back. “Wait, I made you guys something! Be right back!” And then she runs back down the hallway as fast as she’d entered it.
Gracia laughs from where she’s standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands off on a tea towel. “I see congratulations are in order,” she teases them. Roy actually blushes, which is adorable. He kisses her on the cheek after releasing Ed, and Ed hands her the wine bottle.
“Go ahead and gloat. I am too happy to be bothered,” Roy says. Ed grins.
“Mm-hmm.” She raises her eyebrows and turns around to lead them into the kitchen.
Alphonse is sitting at the breakfast nook with his research books and papers spread out in front of him. He raises his eyebrows as well, and he looks surprisingly like Gracia when he does that. They definitely have way too much influence on each other. But, Ed supposes, his smirk looks just like Roy’s in the mirror, so it’s probably fair.
“Do I need to have words with you, sir?” Al asks innocently.
Roy grimaces. “I don’t believe that will be necessary. Your brother already has.”
Al nods and then smiles at Ed. “Good.”
Elicia reappears, her sock feet sliding across the kitchen tile. “Tadaa!” She whips two very elaborate, very homemade, crowns out from behind her back. “I already gave Al his sword,” she says proudly. Al lifts up a heavily-taped cardboard broadsword and swings it around over his head with a grin.
Roy and Ed duck their heads so Elicia can put the crowns on them. Roy looks so cute in his. Ed can’t help breaking into a big smile, and he quickly swoops in to give Roy a kiss on his cheek.
“Can I be the flower girl?” Elicia asks. Roy chokes. Ed blushes. Gracia and Al burst into laughter.
+
Ed knows life isn’t fair or easy. It’s full of pain, and sometimes the good never quite outweighs the bad. Deciding what you want from it is hard. Asking for what you want is even harder.
He knows shit like love, and family, and the thrill of building something with your own two fucking hands makes it worth it anyway.
He also knows that even when you get everything you think you want, your demons can still tear at you until you feel like you’re going to break, until smiling feels like a sharp knife twisting viciously deep when you wish you could just…be.
To that end, being open with Roy is only the beginning. He needs to keep things good, now, for both of them, for himself, which means it’s time to finally address a deeper problem he’s long put off.
He can tell Al, Roy, and Gracia seem worried when he asks them to sit at the table with him later, after dinner is cleaned up and Elicia has gone to work on her homework. But his family waits patiently for him to begin, so he does, painful as it is.
“I think I need help,” Ed admits, looking at the worn surface of the table. “I’ve been trying to do this all on my own. It’s stupid.” He swallows thickly and smiles up at Al, who’s sitting across from him, waiting for him to finish. “I’ve been…not…okay for a long time.”
It’s vague, and it’s certainly not eloquent, but it’ll have to do. He hopes they understand what he’s asking.
And, of course, because they know him; because they love him; because they look at his life and see instability where he sees sufficiency; because they’ve seen him struggle with depression since before even the Promised Day, they do.
“It’s not stupid, Brother. It’s hard. It’s so hard. And you’ve been so strong.” Al reaches out and they clasp hands. His younger brother’s face breaks into a smile so full of love that it makes Ed’s heart ache. “It’s not stupid that sometimes everything feels wrong even when nothing actually is. That’s when you have to fight back even harder. You keep moving forward, as you’ve always done. Of course we’ll help—anything you need.”
Gracia adds her hand to theirs, squeezing around them both. “Anything,” she agrees.
Ed looks at Roy.
The man he loves, who understands him better than anyone maybe, who loves him even though Ed doesn’t love himself most of the time, tucks a strand of hair behind Ed’s ear and says, “War leaves its marks on us long after the rest of the world thinks it’s over. It doesn’t make us weak. You reminded me of that once, when all I could do was hear it.” He presses his lips to Ed’s temple and Ed lets his eyes drift closed. “Riza and I have both seen someone in recent years, if you’re open to trying that.”
He swallows and nods. “Yeah. I am.” It’s quiet, but determined.
“Then you’ve already taken the first step,” Al says.
“Thank you,” Ed whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, and breathes, and lets himself be held together by hands other than his own. “Thank you.”
+++