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“This is definitely a meet-cute,” protested Ed. “We're meeting, and I’m cute. It’s science.”
Roy, for his part, had not expected this tall tree to be occupied.
“Is it?” Roy was unconvinced that startling a stranger out of their wits qualified as meeting someone. The cuteness, in spades, yes—even if Tree Man’s bright features were streaked with dirt.
“What makes a meeting official? Hmm.” Ed sobered his expression and held out his automail arm, vigorously proffering a handshake. “There we go. Names, formal shit. Now we've met.”
“Indeed,” said Roy weakly. “Say, could I ask what you're doing here?”
“Nosy bastard.” Ed snorted. He absently picked a few leaves out of his golden braid. “Ah, why not. I live here.” He pointed his chin up, and sure enough, Roy saw a small treehouse overhead. “It’s not practical for book storage, so libraries-only for me, but I get by.”
Many questions could be asked of a fae-like forest scholar, but Roy’s mind was stuck shifting gears from run-hide to meeting-gorgeous-man-in-tree. “…Why?”
“Do I need a reason?” Ed leapt from the shared branch to the one above, making Roy’s foothold wobble for a moment. “No. How about you? I don’t get many guests—or intruders.”
“Mm.” The branch stilled. Roy continued to not plummet to his death, which he considered good news, so he continued. “I wrote an exposé of the government’s corruption, and they didn’t like it very much. I took a shortcut as one of their goons chased me and ended up hiding here.”
“Damn, good on you.” Ed whistled. “For the call-out, obviously, not for launching yourself into my tree.” He gestured Roy to follow him up to the treehouse. From there, at least, it looked sturdy. “You’re lucky you weren’t dressed as a military dog, or your welcome would’ve been real different.”
“You’ve got enemies?” Roy internally kicked himself again for the inanities coming from his mouth today. He climbed up after Ed, the bark rough against his palms.
Ed snorted. “Sugarcoat it, why don’t ya?” He scaled the remaining branches, muscles rippling. “Not per se. Rivals, yes, but I just don’t trust the military.” He lifted himself onto the platform with a little huff. “Al’s always said I could’ve joined, but I wouldn’t touch that job with a pole. I took my chance on academia instead.”
Roy raised an eyebrow. “And this was nicer than the grad house.”
“I’m not a student anymore. I’m a prof.” Ed bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Currently on sabbatical, before you’re a smartass.” He unlatched the door to the treehouse and let them both in. “My brother’s off in Eastern studying medical alchemy, alkahestry, et cetera.”
The treehouse was sparsely furnished, but nice. There was a sleeping mat in the corner, and a storage area for pantry foods. In the kitchen area, Roy spotted a finger painting signed “Nina”, adorning the otherwise minimalist space. The other corner held a small desk and various plant samples.
“You mentioned ‘Al’,” said Roy. “I met Dr. Alphonse Elric at last month’s Flamel Awards. I wouldn’t suppose…”
“Yup, that’s him!” crowed Ed. “Damn, that kid can do anything. Fuck that for me, though. I’m happy out here with my plants.”
“You study trees?”
“Hmm, sometimes.” Ed dug around and offered Roy a cookie from a tin. “Mostly medicinal flowers. I come at health research from more of a pharmaceutical lens.” He gestured wryly at his automail arm. “I’ve learned the hard way not to go for the more… direct approach. But my work eventually helps people, and that’s what matters to me.”
The cookie was a bit dry, but it was a welcome sweetness in what Roy had expected to be a miserable hour hiding amongst the brush. He quietly considered the implications of Ed’s comment.
“Fucking hell, listen to me ramble. You’d swear I didn’t speak to others, and you’d be right. Usually that’s better, but it’s just been a while, you know?” His gaze lingered on Roy’s, as if drawn by a magnet. “Hold on. You called yourself ‘Roy’. Not… Roy Mustang?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Well, damn. Amestris’ next effing prime minister is strolling into my tree.”
“I’m not officially—I mean, that’s the hope.” Roy smiled. “Still a while before the elections. I ought to lay low somewhere before campaigning. Give the military a few months to forget about me, reshape my image, and all that.”
“What kind of place are you looking for?” Ed could’ve been a real estate agent in another life.
“We’ll see. I figure I’ll find a spot in the bush.”
“A bold choice.” Another one of those sunny grins. Ed was just… so much. “Have you got useful skills, Mustang, beyond your notorious good looks?”
Roy felt his face heat. “Well, sure. My specialty is fire, and my aunt taught me hunting, so I won’t starve.”
“Certainly a good start out here.”
“Mhm. My core skill set is people, believe it or not, as well as a respectable alcohol tolerance, but neither are particularly useful for wilderness survival. However, I can get by for a couple of months until Riza can help things settle down in Central.”
“You should stay here,” declared Ed.
“Come again?”
“If you want, obviously.” Ed leaned onto one hip. “You seem interesting, and probably savvier out here than you let on. I’ll hire you to help with my heating arrays for the samples, if you want, or else I’ll stick with campfires and you can chip in somehow else.”
This was the strangest day Roy had had for a while. “I couldn’t impose.”
“You’re worried about space,” said Ed flatly. “Who are you calling so short my bed wouldn’t be enough for you?”
“Not short, uh, fun-sized—”
Ed was closer now, and unimpressed. “Who says folks can’t have fun at any size—?"
“You don’t have to invite me to your tree house!” The words burst out of Roy. His diplomacy training was lost on this infuriating man. “I mean, you can if you want. Or I could find a spot nearby and visit sometimes.”
“There’s the spark.” Ed’s face broke into a wide grin. “I’m just messing with you. Mostly. I mean, obviously you’re wrong, I’m fucking tall, but you’re welcome here.” He leaned down and grabbed a second sleeping mat nestled beneath his own. “Seriously, you’re helping society or some shit, and I couldn’t make you fend for yourself. You’re welcome to crash here if you want. Fugitive slumber party.”
Roy felt a wave of relief. “Thank you. I’ll gladly help you light samples, if that’s useful.”
“You’re hired,” said Ed, alight with mirth. “Welcome home.”