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It wasn't like Roy had anywhere else to go. And how could he not be drawn forth by the lure of Ed's smile? Hypnotized and helpless to the dancer's charms, his feet carried him across the city.
He had no idea where he might be. He was far from home and had little knowledge of the streets of Xerxes, but he trusted that these two men wouldn't lead him astray.
The scent of spiced meats wafted over the breeze and he realized for the first time that day the need for food. His eyes weren't to be so easily dissuaded, following the hem of Ed's kaftan. Hints of skin teased him and he would starve if only to feast on the sight of Ed swaying with each step.
It was when Ed paused before a doorway and spun to him that he knew they'd arrived. Warm candlelight glowed from within closed curtains, and Ed's hand slipped into his, entreating him follow inside. His palm tingled and he bowed his head as he passed the threshold.
"Alphonse," a woman's voice greeted. "Edward, too! I wasn't expecting you both so early."
Roy counted his blessings, his hand still within the quiet grasp of Edward's. Ah, and now he knew the dancer's whole name.
"And who is this you've invited into my home?" the woman's voice turned sharp.
"Ah, Teacher," Alphonse said, "this is Roy. He plays the doumbek."
Only then did Roy tear his gaze away from Ed to regard his surroundings. The woman cut an imposing figure, arms crossed and chin raised. "Found a drummer, have you?" she clicked her tongue. "We will see."
All of a sudden, Roy felt incredibly small. He had enough sense to keep his mouth shut, waiting for the invitation to speak rather than blurt out platitudes. He could tell just what kind of woman he was dealing with. He merely had to endure her scrutiny until she came to her conclusion.
The woman circled him and he recognized the grace in her movements. He'd just witnessed them not an hour before, Ed putting on a show for the base joy of it.
Ed in his own right regarded his teacher with a cool smirk. She huffed, completing her round.
"You should have heard him play, Teacher," Edward sighed, eyelids fluttering closed. "I can hardly keep myself still just thinking about it."
The woman let her arms down, a furl creasing her otherwise flawless brow. "Ed, go change clothes first. We will eat and after learn if this man is worth his salt."
She beckoned them further into the house, and a glaring colossus filled the room beyond. Roy came to an immediate halt. Maybe it would have been more to Roy's benefit to look before he leapt, but Ed squeezed his hand. He met the dancer's gaze and was rewarded with a conspiratorial wink. When Ed let go to change, it was devastating, but that coy grin gave him a much needed boost.
Ed returned as they broke bread. His clothes were far more modest, but Roy had a notion that even if the dancer wore rags his innate beauty would ring true. Regardless, Ed appeared as comfortable as he'd been in full regalia, dressed in an embroidered tunic and a pair of loose fitting trousers that ended below the knee. The glimpse Roy stole of those firm calves made it difficult to breathe, and Ed's preference of seating arrangements put them bumping thighs.
Over the meal, Roy learned that the woman's name was Izumi and the colossal man that loomed at her side was her husband Sig. He also learned that the couple knew how to cook for the gods! The heavenly scents he'd picked up on the way here had originated in this kitchen, and he counted his blessings anew.
Then Izumi fixed her attention entirely on him. "Let me see your hands," she demanded, arms outstretched.
He held them out and she frowned over his palms. She twisted them, taking in every detail before nodding once and releasing him. "The boys might exaggerate, but you know your profession. Are you weary from your travels or will you play for us this evening?"
An obvious test, and one he'd seen within his aunt's home too many times to fail. Now that he'd been fed and watered, he was revitalized. He offered Izumi a modest smile, "If it would please you, I would very much like to entertain my gracious hosts."
Izumi and Edward laughed as one, and it caught him off guard. He blinked, only then noticing how Ed's laugh fell unimpeded. Like nothing could touch him. It was as refreshing as every other aspect of the dancer that Roy had witnessed.
"So formal!" Izumi sobered and rose to her feet. "Come with me, then."
Roy rose to follow.
"You, too, boys."
The brothers were standing at full height even before Roy had finished rising.
They exited through the back to a courtyard. The last of the sunlight dyed everything a thick indigo, and Roy missed the opportunity to ogle Ed's golden skin under such a hue. Could he but hope that there would be another chance?
Izumi pointed to a spot. "Sit there," she directed at him. "And Edward, I will be watching your technique."
"Yes, Teacher," Ed bowed. He stood back and untied the band holding his tunic snug to his waist. In a motion as practiced as it was elegant, he shed the tunic away. Izumi passed over a scarf which Ed wrapped about his hips, testing the ease of motion.
Roy's heart was near to leaping out his throat. Edward's body was perfection incarnate, the very Form the philosophers sought. The evening gloom merely made him glow brighter by contrast, and Roy was floored by Edward's mere presence.
Alphonse sat beside him and jerked him from his revery. "You play like you were born with a drum in your hands, yet," Al murmured low, giving him a look, "you stare at my brother like you've never seen anyone dance before."
Roy swallowed, working over words he might say. "I've watched hundreds over the years, and yet not a one of them could compare."
"Hundreds?" The disbelief was tangible.
He smiled. "My home was remote, and there were few occupations for women. My aunt offered the population necessary entertainment while also providing shelter for those less fortunate."
"That's a very pretty way," Al's lip flattened to a line, "to say that you grew up in a house of pleasure."
"Quite to the contrary," he pulled his drum from the pack which he'd not let from his side. "My sisters were never obligated to demean themselves in such a manner as that. They danced, earning their dowries and then some, until they found a man worthy of their hand."
Alphonse considered his story in silence while Ed and Izumi spoke in hushed tones.
The ground was still warm beneath him, and it defended from the slight chill in the air. He met Izumi's gaze head on when she turned to him.
"The serto," she crossed her arms. "You know it?"
Instead of answering, he tapped out the open rhythm. Izumi smiled, turning her attention back to her student. "As we discussed," she backed away to give Edward room. Ed angled his arms away from his body and nodded to Roy.
Roy thrummed out the rhythm as before and watched Ed's hips find the pulse. As the tentative bobs grew familiar with it, Edward blossomed into motion.
Roy added a layer atop the pattern, thickening the sound. Edward rolled with his music, lunging into each step. There was a level of control this time, and Roy knew that he should stay with Izumi's request. But... to see Ed's joy was to savor his own.
He altered the pattern, a shift of syllable rather than time. Ed cocked a brow his way and gave him a knowing smirk. The dancer didn't miss a thing. His pelvis swung with each doum and twitched at every tek.
It was lamentable that Edward wasn't wearing any coins. Roy longed to make music with him as they'd done that afternoon. His eyes were tied to Ed's waist, forced to watch for his cues instead of listen.
He could sense a need for another shift, a need for haste. He glanced up to gauge Ed's expression and nearly lost himself in pools of molten gold. The heat swirling in them spoke of desires to make far more than mere music together.
Ed spun and leapt, and Roy struck his drum to pronounce each of Ed's silent foot falls. He rattled his fingers over the head, the rhythm evolving into a hybrid of the serto and his own variations.
A shudder of hips complimented his rapid strikes, and Ed writhed as the patter of taps rained over him. Roy bit down on his tongue to stifle a groan when Ed threw his head back. Hooded eyes locked onto his and he witnessed both his salvation and damnation piercing into the depths of his soul.
His hands had a mind of their own, driving forth into complex syncopations that bounced his dancer from side to side. They moved as one mind in two bodies. Roy fed off the energy radiating from Ed, basked in the sight of his arched back and rolling abdomen. Arms coiled as they lifted high above, the rhythm filling so that there was nothing but the pulse roaring through the air.
Edward flicked a gaze his way, and the smoldering embers within them promised him things he couldn't begin to imagine. His heart pounded in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to translate that rushing beat into his doumbek. To watch Edward dance for him and him alone. To hear the thumping pulse of Ed's heart and make it match his own. He ached in ways he'd never known, parched and thirsting for a glimmering oasis that he could only pray was no mirage.
They were linked as he rolled to a bursting zenith, Ed's body flying with him, cresting to one final tek!
They stilled and silence reigned.
The chill cut at Roy's skin, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple. Ed's breath came in pants, chest heaving, until he relaxed his arms to his sides, staring wide eyed at Roy.
Pure awe delighted a grin to bloom over Ed's lips. Roy felt a flush rise to his cheeks, realizing too late that his mouth had been hanging open, and clicked his jaw shut. The corners of Edward's eyes crinkled in glee, and Roy shivered, rejoicing in the knowledge that he was doomed to a life of servitude.
"Ahem."
Roy's gaze snapped back to Edward's teacher and his blush redoubled. If only they had been alone, the sacrifice of his autonomy wouldn't have been nearly so humiliating.
Izumi rolled her eyes at Edward. "He'll do."
