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“Hey, boss?” Havoc asked in between drags on his third cigarette in the hour.
Edward grunted in reply from where he was helping Fuery detangle some cords, loosely braiding some of them together efficiently under Fuery’s direction as to what needed to be grouped together. It was relatively tedious work, but it was keeping the bespectacled man from having another fit about how cables and cords always seemed to snarl themselves even if they’d not been touched since installation. And really? He had nothing better to do.
“You’re single, right?” Havoc asked as he spun his chair a bit to better face where the blond State Alchemist was sat on the floor with their tech wizard.
Edward wasn’t the only one to be caught off guard and perplexed by the question, because Fuery met his bewildered gaze with one of his own. He looked over his shoulder at the smoking man, “I wasn’t aware that was any of your business. Unless this is your roundabout way of asking me out, and if so, I decline.”
Fuery snickered from behind a hastily raised hand, while Breda guffawed in more open delight.
Havoc gave him a dramatically wounded look, cigarette dangling dangerously low, temporarily forgotten between his fingers in light of the rejection. “I will have you know, that even though I’m not asking for myself, I’d be a fantastic boyfriend to you. Your loss, I want you to know that.”
“I promise I’ll cry myself to sleep about it tonight, Jean.” Edward muttered, turning back to his task.
“Don’t encourage him,” Fuery smirked and passed Edward another cord. “That can go with bundle ‘C’.”
“But seriously, boss, yo – yow!” Havoc jolted as ashes from his forgotten cigarette landed on his trousers.
The rest of the office burst into a new fit of snickers.
“Oh, fuck you all.” Havoc informed them as he stubbed the cigarette out, just to be safe. “If you’re single then that means I actually have a chance to win this bet.”
Edward frowned in distraction as he took another cord from Fuery. “If it’s a bet as to my relationship status, you go right ahead and win there, Jean.”
“No, no,” Havoc leaned forward with determination, “Breda here thinks that you don’t date. Well, I mean, of course you date. You’re pretty hot and you’ve got that whole powerful alchemist thing going for you. Of course you date.”
Edward looked up to see Fuery fighting back laughter, and rolling his eyes as he turned his attention back onto Havoc and Breda now as well.
“So, Breda here says he’ll give me five hundred out of his next paycheck if you go on ten dates with these people he’ll line up from work who’re in your fan club.” Havoc told him excitedly, “he thinks you won’t make it past two of them. I think you can definitely manage ten though, right?”
Edward cocked an eyebrow and shifted his gaze more fully onto Breda to say sternly, “Heymans Breda, is this true?”
Breda managed to maintain his seat, “yes, boss. I just think it would be good for you to get out some. You’ve not had an outside mission in a month. And with Al back in Resembool permanently, all you do is hang out here with us on your days off. Like right now.”
“No, no.” Edward shook his head, stern tone not abating and frown deepening, “I know it’s true that you’d think up something this ridiculous. Is it true I have a fan club?!”
Breda nodded, looking a bit perplexed now as he leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah, you didn’t know? They’re not exactly quiet about it.”
Edward felt something above one of his eyes twitch. “Probably because they have a bit more common sense than you.”
Fuery snickered, having forgotten about the tangled mess he was trying to sort in lieu of enjoying Havoc and Breda digging themselves an early grave. And with Hawkeye enjoying her day off, unlike the boss, there was no one sensible about to stop the two men from just waltzing right into that waiting trap.
“It’s just ten dates, boss.” Havoc wheedled pleadingly, “that’s not even two weeks of you just going out to dinner with someone and ditching them afterwards. It’s five hundred, boss! I have vices to afford!”
“I wasn’t aware that was mine to assist with.” Edward told Havoc dismissively before turning his attention back on Breda once more, eyes narrowing, “why is it you think I don’t date?”
Fuery muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “uh-oh.”
Edward ignored him.
Breda shifted in his chair, “well, like I said, you’re always here. And you never talk about meeting anyone when you’re on a mission. And you certainly don’t come back in a happy mood like you got laid.”
“And you think that the loss of sex wouldn’t put me in a sour mood?” Edward queried, but to be frank, he wasn’t really seeking an answer to that one way or the other. “Don’t make stupid bets with Havoc, he’s far too easily convinced and doesn’t really have the money to lose.”
Havoc’s brow was furrowed as he tried to pinpoint how to turn this to his favor. Five hundred was a lot of money for a lot of cigarettes. And then he had it like a bolt of inspiration, and he jerked in his chair, startling Breda. “They’re all part of your fan club though, which means they know how much you eat! They’d probably fall all over themselves at the chance to buy you as much food as you wanted, boss!”
“Is he implying I’m greedy and fat?” Edward asked Fuery in a deadpan tone with a matching expression.
“I am not getting pulled into this.” Fuery muttered with a shudder.
Edward’s eyes narrowed, but he did turn his attention back onto the two other men. “How about a counteroffer,” he began, brimming with purpose to teach both of them a lesson, “I go on eleven dates and you each give me five hundred. If I back out, I give each of you six hundred.”
Fuery’s jaw dropped.
Havoc crowed in excitement from where he sat, while Breda noticeably sat up straighter with a broad grin.
“Deal?” Edward pressed innocently.
“No, wait!” Breda smacked a hand onto Havoc’s desk before his friend could do more than make what barely qualified as an utterance. “We’d need someone to confirm it happened. Someone impartial. Fuery?”
“I wasn’t getting pulled into your stupidity before, and I sure as fuck am not getting pulled into it now.” Fuery informed them.
The solution to their predicament walked into the main office just then.
“Mustang will do it.” Edward told them with the certainty of a man who knew it had already been decided.
Roy stopped dead in his tracks, attention instantly zeroing in on the blond alchemist lounging on the office floor. “And just what is it that you think I’m doing, Fullmetal?”
Edward quirked an eyebrow in a dare to challenge him as he explained, “ensuring I go on eleven dates. Those two idiots closest to you have offered a bet, and I intend to win it. But they insist they not take my word; we need someone impartial.”
Roy was silent with a very pregnant pause before he looked at Breda, then Havoc with a neutral expression before looking back to Ed. “And what’s in it for me?”
Admittedly, Edward hadn’t even thought that far yet.
“You can be his twelfth date, his treat with the money if he wins.” Fuery piped up.
Causing him to quickly become the subject of four incredulous stares.
Edward slowly managed to turn his wide-eyed attention off of Fuery and to Mustang instead. Seemingly sensing his attention, the man’s gaze shifted to meet his own.
“Consider it a bet, gentlemen.” Was all Roy said before he continued on into his office, door snapping shut behind him.
“Thanks, Fuery. I’m gonna lose all my money.” Edward muttered.
҉
At the end of Edward’s shift the very next day, Breda snagged his attention.
“Your first date is with a Major Simon Wilkins.” Breda informed his boss, “you’re meeting him at the pub down on Crossways Boulevard at eight.”
“Well, at least a whiskey might help this headache pass quicker,” Edward muttered but shrugged, “fine. Make sure you tell Mustang.”
He left before Breda could argue about it or Hawkeye, now back from her day off, could question him.
When it was nearly eight that evening, Edward truly wanted nothing more than to skip the entire affair, but his desire to teach all of them a lesson was far stronger inside him. So, he dutifully left his apartment and made his way down to the pub.
As it turned out, Major Simon Wilkins required three whiskeys in order for Edward to manage to suffer through only the first hour of the man prattling on about his limited successes and grandiose boasting about his collection of postage stamps.
Not once had Edward been asked a singular question about himself, not even how his day had been.
Edward sighed, and didn’t bother to keep it internal this time as he turned the bottom rim of his empty shot glass idly against the bar counter and attempted to keep his attention on the man. Surely there had to be something redeeming about this guy.
“I know, right?” Wilkins exclaimed in continued shock at his own story, “it’s lunacy that they’d limit the number of fluffy-backed tit-babbler stamps!”
Edward stared at him, deadpan, “lunacy.” Especially giving a bird a name like that. What were the ornithologists thinking?
The arrival of their food was something of a saving grace, and Edward proceeded to use his apparent reputation to his advantage and shift his focus single-mindedly onto his food. And it worked… for as long as the food lasted. Which inevitably meant that Edward needed to turn his attention back to Wilkins.
“Wow,” Wilkins was staring at Edward as if he’d never quite seen anything like him before, “so I’m interested. How does that work? You eating.”
Edward breathed in deeply through his nose in an effort to keep from… he wasn’t certain. Screaming? “The way it works for everyone else, Wilkins.”
Which was apparently the man’s cue to begin discussing all the foods he didn’t like and why, and did Edward like those foods?
Edward was beginning to keenly miss the part of his life where he’d been a temperamental teenager, when exactly had he dug deep and found this wellspring of adult patience and politeness?
The moment when it became apparent that Wilkins was unable to stay up past ten in the evening could have definitely come sooner in Edward’s opinion. And he was all too eager to wave off the apologies and the invitation to come have a nightcap. Even if he’d been interested in a tumble in the sheets with Wilkins, based on the length of yawns beginning to occur, the man wouldn’t be staying awake long enough to even get his own trousers off.
He breathed an audible and heavy sigh of relief when Wilkins finally departed, and slumped down against the bar counter with a groan.
“So…” came a new, but familiar and laughing voice, “that looked like it went well.”
“Fuck you,” Edward muttered and began to slowly bang his head against the bar counter.
“Afraid your chance at a fucking already walked out the door, Fullmetal.” Roy smirked and held up two fingers to the bartender and nudged away the empty glass Wilkins had left behind.
Edward offered him a middle finger, and raised his head with another heartfelt groan. “With a guy who couldn’t even be bothered to ask me a single question tonight? No thanks. Pass. For so many reasons. Including that he’d never figure out what I like in bed, and it is not solely missionary two-and-a-half times a week.”
Roy snickered and passed the bartender the bills for their drinks, nudging Edward’s more prominently in front of him. “Drink. You’ll feel better for it, and I’ll make sure you get home tonight okay.”
“My hero.” Edward rolled his eyes and promptly drained the whiskey shot.
A few minutes later Roy had purchased the bottle, and they began to work on draining it dry.
And true to Roy’s word, he saw Edward safely back to the man’s apartment before turning for home himself.
҉
The next day, Roy confirmed to Breda and Havoc that Edward had indeed gone on the date with Major Simon Wilkins; and Edward, nursing a hangover, informed them that there would not be a second date. Not that, of course, Wilkins had bothered to ask. Which as far as Edward was concerned meant the man didn’t want a second date anyway. Something he was not at all upset over.
So this time when Edward was set to leave the office at the end of his shift, he was told that his date tonight would be a Lieutenant Isabella Barber at the same pub.
And while to the Lieutenant’s credit, she proved herself to be an admirable conversationalist, Edward truly wasn’t feeling any sort of connection. Granted, he was only doing this to win a bet against Breda and Havoc, but there was nothing in the bet that said he couldn’t also treat these as actual blind dates. So despite the fact that the evening had gone far better than the previous one, Edward said a polite goodnight to Barber and they parted ways outside the pub.
He didn’t see Mustang the entire time, but he knew that the man had been there. Somewhere.
҉
The next date had to wait two days, Mustang had needed something handled in the way only Edward could handle things. Through flagrant property damage and indiscriminate alchemic beatdowns. Edward had thoroughly enjoyed the free rein, and so was in a cheerful mood when he finally came back to the office.
Upon his arrival Edward was informed that his third blind date would be Sergeant Major Devon Tyler.
And once again, because according to Breda it was easiest, he would be meeting his date at the pub.
So Edward made his report, informed Mustang about the date that would need to be overseen, and promptly fucked off back home for the rest of the day. He’d gone to work straight from the train station and he desperately wanted a shower and a nap.
Sergeant Major Devon Tyler was, at first, a breath of fresh air.
He was a good conversationalist, he listened well, he didn’t gape at Edward like a fish when Edward ate, and Edward could admit that he wouldn’t mind if this date extended into an overnight event. He should have known better than to think it, however, because at about the point in time Edward was trying to remember if he had a condom in his wallet – he was ninety-eight percent certain of that – Tyler positively ran any and all of Edward’s interest straight into its grave.
“So, think if this goes well you could put in a good word for me with Fuhrer Mustang? I’ve always wanted to transfer to his direct command.”
Edward blinked, and while his sexual interest quickly fizzled out, starved of oxygen as it now was, he found a new interest protectively rearing up its potentially-ugly head. “Why?” He settled for asking, determined not to in any way guide whatever answer he was about to get.
“Well, not only could we see each other whenever we wanted at work, isn’t it anyone’s dream to be on his personal squadron?” Tyler asked, hopelessly oblivious to the probable danger he was in, “there’s no better way to climb ranks faster.”
“Tell you what,” Edward smiled a dangerously sweet smile, “I’ll make a mention to him. I don’t think this will work out between us though, you understand.”
Sergeant Major Devon Tyler did understand, a bit regretfully, but he didn’t press it. He was all too willing to walk away feeling as if he’d won a consolation prize at the very least.
Edward lingered at the small, intimate table they’d been seated at and finally gave a bewildered and unimpressed shake of his head. He was just planning to get up and leave himself when one of the staff paused by his table to slide a shot of whiskey in front of him.
“Courtesy of the gentleman at the booth there,” followed by a vague motioning off towards the left.
Edward looked over, and spotting a familiar face he grabbed his drink and made his way over to bodily all but fall onto the vinyl-covered bench cushion. Somehow his drink survived, so he downed it in quick order.
“It looked like it was going well, what happened?” Roy asked as he idly stirred the oversized umbrella in the colorful concoction he was sipping on leisurely.
“He wanted me to use whatever influence he thinks I have on you to ask you to transfer him onto the team.” Edward eyed Roy’s drink with beady curiosity. “Kind of killed my interest. I don’t appreciate feeling used, especially to get close to you and whatever benefits people think you bring to their career.”
Roy huffed in faux offense, but he was already tilting his head a bit in consideration of how to handle that particular admission. “Are you thinking middle-of-nowhere on the southern border or the northern one.”
“I’m only a Colonel, and not his supervising one, how dare you imply I have any influence on you and where to send the handsome twit.” Edward smirked before tapping his finger insistently on the table between them. “Share, now.”
“Please,” Roy corrected, but regardless pushed his drink between them.
Edward grabbed a straw from the dispenser on the table and plunked it in the colorful mix to take a sip.
“Southern border it is,” Roy decided as he watched Edward’s expression light up in enjoyment as the blond sipped at Roy’s drink. “Want one of your own?”
“Two, please.” Edward smirked.
Three more of the drinks eventually arrived to the table, along with a platter of chicken wings. They lingered over the drinks and the wings for another good hour before Roy once more walked Edward home.
҉
Blind date number four was Warrant Officer Leah Holden.
Edward met her at the pub at the established eight in the evening timeslot, and they sat down at the bar counter with a platter of a selection of appetizers and two beers while they waited for their main course. They chatted about their mutual connection of being older siblings to troublesome younger ones, trading horror stories until Holden was laughing so hard that she was wiping tears from her eyes with the napkins set next to the bowls of oversalted peanuts no one ever dared touch.
She was gorgeous, there was no way Edward could ever deny that. But by the end of the evening, he had realized that Holden reminded him far too much of Winry – and that had ended disastrously when he’d discovered he considered her more like a sister than a lover.
And considering how well they had gotten on during the evening, Edward felt he owed it to Holden to tell her the truth about things. To her credit she took the news gracefully and well, and leaned in to kiss his cheek and thank him for a fun evening before taking her leave.
Edward sighed as he watched her go before finishing the last of his third beer and turning to leave himself.
He got as far as the outside of the pub before he noticed the familiar figure that Roy cut in dim lamplight on the sidewalk, leaning back against the pub wall looking absolutely relaxed. Edward’s feet walked in that direction almost on instinct instead of active desire.
“Well?” Roy asked as he looked over to meet Edward’s bright gaze, lit as it was by the lamplight. Only to find his attention yanked with disconcerting abruptness down to the lipstick on Edward’s cheek. “She kissed you and you’re standing here with me?”
“Wha – oh, shit.” Edward raised his coat sleeve to his cheek to begin scrubbing. “Wasn’t that sort of kiss, Mustang.”
“The evidence rather says it was a kiss.” Roy argued, his tone tight.
Edward left off his scrubbing, although his sleeve remained pressed to his cheek as he looked back up into Roy’s dark gaze, at the hardness in his expression. “Believe what you want. Don’t get pissy at me because of – I don’t even fucking know why, actually. You want her? Go ask her out. She’s genuinely nice so probably too good for you, but who knows.”
This time Edward stormed off away from Roy with a huff, and made his own way back home.
҉
Edward begged off the fifth blind date the following day, having Breda schedule it for the next evening instead. He was still feeling uncharacteristically out of sorts about whatever that had been with Mustang the previous night, and he knew he was in no mindset to try and be a decent person to a potentially nice individual right now.
By the time of his fifth blind date, Edward hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Roy, although Breda had assured him that Roy knew there would be a date tonight. So he reported to the pub at the correct time and soon found himself attempting to enjoy the company of Lieutenant Colonel Alicia Ballard.
Something that was rather difficult when she kept discussing how superior she was to her commanding officer, and why didn’t they see her talent. And surely Edward could agree, being as well-respected as he was, that she had a rare talent for command.
Edward was privately of the opinion that she had a rare talent to command his scorn, but he wasn’t about to say that when he was wearing a white sweater and she was drinking red wine.
He wasn’t sure what it implied that Mustang was the only person whose narcissistic and inflated opinion of themself he could tolerate. Granted, he had over a decade of practice and desensitization at it, but even so…
Given the white sweater he was wearing was one of his favorites, he smartly waited until she’d finished all her red wine before letting her know firmly and as politely as he could muster, that he didn’t see a second date in their future.
He waited a good five minutes to be sure she had a decent head start on him before he made to leave himself. Only to have a shot glass of whiskey slid in front of him.
“Courtesy of – ”
“Yeah, I know.” Edward interrupted, giving the waiter an apologetic look for cutting him off, and pushed his chair in. “Send it back.”
And he left, not bothering to look for Roy.
He got as far as the street corner when he heard the familiar stride catch up to him.
“I’m sorry.” Roy uttered softly as he walked with Edward across the street towards the next corner.
Edward shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and tipped his head back to blink up at the moon. “Look, I don’t know why you were clearly in a mood, but might I remind you that when I win this thing, you’re my last date. You might want to be making sure I don’t just buy you salad with no dressing and some water.”
Roy blinked, and then slowly began to smile, a soft huff of chuckling laughter shaking through him. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”
Edward tilted his head back down and towards the man walking beside him, and smiled. “I didn’t dare try and sit through dessert with her too, want to get ice cream? My treat?”
Roy nodded, and together they walked to the nearest ice cream parlor where Roy got an entirely reasonably-sized ice cream cone, and Edward came away with a towering impending disaster to enjoy as Roy walked him home.
҉
First Lieutenant Mikolaj Trevino had been chosen as date number six.
Edward met him at what was, by this point, his reserved spot at the bar counter.
Trevino was, to be quite fair to the man, absolutely and ridiculously attractive. He was well-spoken and polite, asked intelligent questions, and gave intelligent and thoughtful answers to the questions he was asked in turn.
The date was going so well that the main course hadn’t even arrived yet and Edward was already considering going home with the man. Preferably right that second, but he was also famished, so he kept his opinion on how soon they should get horizontal to himself.
He really should have expected the entire thing to go pear-shaped.
He wasn’t even sure how it had started. Only that one second Trevino was sitting next to him with a hand in an incredibly indecent spot on Edward’s thigh, and the next Trevino was being covered in an incredible amount of ranch dressing by another man whose voice had reached a pitch only dogs could hear properly.
From the bits that Edward could understand, as a ranch-drenched Trevino tried to restrain the other man, it seemed that Edward’s thigh wasn’t the only thigh that Trevino enjoyed feeling up. And that what he had just inadvertently helped tank was a five-month long relationship that had been meant to be exclusive by this point.
Edward discreetly edged himself away from the mayhem as the beginnings of an outright proper pub brawl began to show themselves. Only to find himself yanked to one side in enough time that a flying peanut bowl missed his face, but not having expected the assist, ended up all but sprawled across Roy’s lap in the bench seat of a nearby booth.
“Shame, he was an attractive one.” Roy remarked in a tone that implied it wasn’t a shame in the least, as he watched the brawl escalate with a smirk.
Edward nudged the table aside a bit with his hip in order to be able to turn about and flop down on the bench next to Roy, his legs draped over the other man’s as he faced outward towards the melee with Roy securely between him and it. “He reminds me of you at that age.”
Roy gasped in shocked laughter, but dared not look away from the scene as a barstool went flying. “Excuse fucking you! I have no clue what you’re talking about, I never two-timed. Just stole.”
“How noble of you,” Edward commented dryly as he watched a pitcher of beer get dumped over someone’s head.
“I’m not sure you’re getting your food, and I imagine mine will be delayed as well.” Roy sighed, one of his hands coming down to rest over Edward’s ankles. “Want to get out of here?”
Edward reached out to take a long sip from Roy’s beer, “depends. Are you going to be decent to me and count that as a full date?”
“Yes, and I pity Breda or Havoc should they try to argue it with me.” Roy reassured, his thumb stroking idly against the jut of Edward’s ankle bone and finally looked over to meet Edward’s gaze. “Ramen? My treat this time?”
Edward turned away from the ongoing brawl to meet Roy’s questioning look, and smiled softly, nodding. “Sounds good.”
They extracted themselves from the bench, slipped towards the front doors unnoticed and managed to get out into the night overlooked and unmolested by the brawl that had spilt over into the main dining area by that point.
҉
Edward found he didn’t need to bother telling Breda to make sure that the seventh blind date wasn’t already seeing someone, because the man was already waiting with an apology when he got to work the next morning. It seemed that word had gotten around fast at Headquarters of the brawl and the cause being a lovers quarrel and breakup all in one. It hadn’t taken Breda long to piece it together once names were mentioned.
Blind date number seven was promised to be single and unattached and very much looking forward to the chance to date him and him alone.
So Edward went back to the pub, finding it all sorted out and put back together after the previous night’s revelries, to meet Second Lieutenant Corman Evans.
Evans was a far more reserved man than Edward had been expecting from his apparent fan club. Truth be told, Edward was reminded of a much younger Falman. Which was as intriguing and amusing as it was distracting and just… dull. While Evans had no outright character flaws, and was a polite date in every manner of the phrase, there was a clear spark missing. Not even one spark of sexual desire, like he’d felt with the disaster that was Mikolaj Trevino. The thought of even kissing this guy made Edward’s eyes want to droop – and not just because he’d been out until almost two o’clock that same morning with Roy.
Regardless, Edward wasn’t actually too disappointed at the opportunity to have an easy night where there was no ranch dressing being dumped over his date’s head, no chance of his clothes getting doused with red wine, and no endless talk of postage stamps. He rolled with the opportunity to sit and have idle chit-chat while drinking one of those colorful fruity concoctions that Roy had introduced him to, and eating his dinner.
Given Evans’ nature throughout all of dinner, it was therefore an absolute shock to Edward when as he was about to make his denial for a second date but politely thank the man, said man leaned in to kiss him square on the lips.
Edward was so shocked he just stood there, ramrod straight and unmoving with wide eyes, until he managed to blink his way back out of being absolutely stunned by the impression that Evans seemed to have thought their date went this well. He quickly and firmly pressed the man back with one hand, followed by resuming telling the man that there would be no second date.
The thank you he’d previously planned to make had become a dead idea.
Evans left shortly after, and Edward slumped back onto his barstool with a bewildered expression.
With a full body shake he quickly reached forward to grab some napkins and wipe agitatedly at his lips before downing the rest of his drink in one go and holding his finger up for another from the bartender.
“So, did he kiss like a dead fish, or did it just look like he did.” Roy’s tone was smug as he plopped himself on the stool that Evans had vacated.
Edward’s face pulled into a grimace, “I’m just glad he didn’t use tongue.”
Roy’s grip on his beer bottle tightened a bit, something dark passing over his expression before it vanished in place of a smirk. “I’m not sure he’d know how. Didn’t look like a very stimulating kiss.”
“I suppose stimulating in all the wrong ways.” Edward muttered and thanked the bartender, passing him payment before finally looking over at Roy. “As much as I might regret asking you this, you’re the playboy between us. Was anything I was doing implying in even the slightest that I was interested? Or was wanting him to kiss me?”
Roy rolled the bottom of his beer bottle around in a circle against the bar counter as he considered Edward for a moment to think about that, before forcing himself to look away and take another long drink from his beer. And when the image of Evans kissing Edward so wonderfully popped into his mind, he downed the rest in quick succession before beckoning over the bartender and requesting two shots of whiskey.
Edward frowned a bit, “Roy?”
Roy went still. The mental image he was intending to banish with whiskey suddenly evaporating with that single word. Because never, ever before, had Edward called him by his first name. And it sounded perfect. Suddenly, he needed the whiskey for another reason altogether. “Sorry,” he managed to get out, though found himself unable to look back at Edward yet. “No. No, you were perfect.”
Edward blinked at the strange choice of words, but accepted the review of his behavior. “Were you aware that I had this damn fan club?”
Roy found himself grateful for the topic change, and for the whiskey.
They stayed at the pub for another few drinks and a half a cake which Roy was allowed to have bites of, and then lingered together over coffees until they were some of the only people left in the pub. Only then did they leave and slip out into the cool night air. And by habit now, Roy began to walk Edward home.
“Just four more and you’ll have won.” Roy couldn’t help but remark as they ambled down the sidewalk.
Edward smiled faintly and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers even as he leant over to give Roy the slightest of shoves with his shoulder. “What will you do with your free time?”
Roy hesitated a moment at the question, and despite being well aware of the ridicule he might gain from the man beside him, answered in an almost defensive tone, “I knit. In my free time, I knit.”
Now, Edward hadn’t exactly known what to expect, but knitting hadn’t even been on his bingo card. “You knit?” He blinked, “what do you knit?”
“Blankets, and socks.” Roy answered, some of his defensiveness warily beginning to lift, “I want to be able to do sweaters too, one day. But the last time I tried it was horrible. I need more practice.”
“Do you go to a knitting club?” Edward pressed with surprised interest.
“No. I – uh – I could never find one that worked with the fact that I have to keep weird work hours.” Roy admitted before adding, “it’s been helping my fingers stay limber. The last thing I need is to get sloppy with my alchemy, so I needed something to keep my hands in shape now that I barely have need to use them for that these days.”
Edward smiled broadly at that, “any time you want to practice against me, just say the word. I’ll even go easy on you, Fuhrer.”
“So generous of you, Colonel.” Roy rolled his eyes.
“Can I see them?” Edward asked after a stretch of easy, companionable silence.
Roy frowned and asked, “my hands?”
“Scandalous,” Edward grinned through a laugh, “gonna lift up your skirts and show me some ankle there too, Mustang? No, your knits. Can I see them?”
Roy hesitated again, but this time not for as long. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, causing Edward to turn back a step later in question. “Try to contain yourself while I lift my skirts here for you,” he sassed before rucking one of his trouser legs up enough to show the sock underneath.
Edward snickered at the words, but soon enough he was dropping to one knee there on the sidewalk to peer down and investigate.
Roy’s heartbeat doubled the moment Edward sank down in front of him, something flipped inside his chest and clenched around his breath and it was all he could do to maintain an unaffected expression when Edward looked back up at him, face shining with the delight those golden eyes mirrored.
“This is really good, Roy!” Edward rose back to his feet, “the blankets must be awesome.”
“Sometimes I think you’ve finally grown up,” Roy sighed as he took Edward by the elbow to spin him back around to continue walking, “and then you say awesome.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Edward rolled his eyes, and despite noticing that Roy was still holding his arm, he had no inclination at all to try and shake him off. If anything, he found himself walking closer to the man and feeling oddly content.
Roy smiled softly, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Edward chuckled, and for the remainder of the walk back to his apartment he continued to try to needle Roy into showing him one of the knitted blankets one day soon. He never did get his promise of it, but by the time they said goodnight, he hadn’t gotten a denial either.
҉
Date number eight was an earlier one, at seven in the evening.
Edward dutifully showed up despite the earlier time frame and met Captain Finnley Snow who had recently transferred in from an outpost in a town Edward vaguely recalled half-demolishing at some point in his career.
As it turned out, Snow remembered the incident as well, although he’d not been military at the time. And while the man had curiously asked for details about what exactly had caused such a reaction on Edward’s part, Edward couldn’t actually remember. It was all a blur of idiots he’d had to deal with over the years, and given that the incident in question had occurred when Al was still joyriding a suit of armor, he’d had other things more prevalently on his mind at the time.
With that line of conversation effectively worn out, Snow shifted the focus again back onto Edward.
Which, normally would be entirely fine. If Edward hadn’t soon come to the realization that not only were the questions and things Snow was saying incredibly off-putting for a first date, every time he attempted to learn something about Snow in turn, his question was ignored as if he’d not spoken at all.
Edward might have been concerned aside from the fact that he knew he could deal with the creepy possessive stalker impressions he was now getting, if Mustang didn’t beat him to it first. Which left him plenty of time to make up outlandish answers while trying to reconcile himself to the fact that this bet he’d made with Breda and Havoc was unlikely to lead to him actually finding someone he’d want to spend the night with.
Maybe he needed to ask Roy to send him on another assignment for a few days. An anonymous hookup found at a seedy club was starting to sound really good to him.
And for the first time, Edward put an extremely early end to the date.
At first he wasn’t certain if he was going to have to throw Snow out of the pub himself, but the man did leave with a comment that perhaps Edward would be in a better mood next time.
Edward sincerely doubted that, and he didn’t even wait for Roy to finish sitting down next to him before he said quite firmly, “psych eval and close monitoring of that one. And ship him somewhere miserable for me.”
Roy nodded and didn’t question why, all he needed to know was what he’d seen with his own eyes. And by this point, he well knew what Edward looked like when he was unsettled and on the defensive. “You okay?”
“Is it bad to admit that I actually hope he tries something so that I can remove certain parts of his anatomy accidentally in the ensuing beatdown I give him?” Edward asked as he dropped his head into his hands. “See, this is why I don’t date. Anonymous hookups in random places at least get me sex. Dating is full of people I can’t see myself with, and when there’s the slim potential that I can, it turns out they’re a homewrecker.”
Roy was silent for a moment, weighing his words before saying, “you just have to get through three more, Ed.”
Edward let out a heavy breath and raised his head as his hands dropped back to the bar counter, and he looked over at the man seated beside him who was watching him with an expression that he couldn’t quite place. “This date… with you. At the end. Is it actually – I mean, do you want it to be a date?”
Roy smiled, “yes. Yes, I do.”
҉
Edward felt like he spent the next day entirely in a distracted fog, to the point where he barely recalled acknowledging to Breda that he’d heard that his ninth blind date, a Major Jonathon Brady, would meet him at the pub at the regular time that night.
He kept replaying the previous night. Not anything to do with the creep that was Snow, but the time he’d spent with Roy. And he was beginning to piece together that last night wasn’t the first night that there had been something between them. Yet whatever was beginning to happen between them, he was not about to lose this bet, and Roy hadn’t asked him to abandon it.
So at eight o’clock that evening, Edward showed to the pub to have dinner with Brady.
It was all-in-all a rather nice dinner. The conversation flowed well even if it was rather unremarkable, there were a few genuine moments of laughter, and it was all very much… average. Boring. Predictable.
And Edward hated that.
And to Edward, it seemed that the end of the date couldn’t come soon enough.
Luckily Brady didn’t question the denial for a second date, and Edward couldn’t be bothered enough about it to care whether or not the man had clued in that his mind was somewhere else entirely. On someone else entirely.
It was that someone else’s booth that he found himself going to after Brady had left.
“He seemed nice.” Roy observed and pushed his appetizer sampler platter to the center of the table.
Edward hummed and picked up a jalapeño popper. “He was. And not a creep. Nor did he remind me of Winry, bore me to death, or otherwise irritate me. He was perfectly ordinary.”
“And yet here you sit with me,” Roy observed with a half-smile.
“Nice and ordinary is overrated from where I sit.” Edward replied with a smile of his own, unable but to grin just a bit shyly and fuss with the drink menu when Roy’s smile widened in response to his words.
By the time Roy had walked Edward back home that night, Edward had come to accept that tonight had been only one of several dates he’d already been on with Roy. And that knowledge was something that kept him warm that night in a way his blankets could never match.
҉
The remaining two dates were with a Sergeant Bradley Brennan and a Corporal Tristan Morrison.
Edward remembered nothing of either date, but everything about the date he’d had with Roy immediately following the two other men.
He remembered the laughter and bickering, the familiar conversation and even the moments where they didn’t need to speak to enjoy each other’s company. He remembered the increasingly silly drinks that Roy would order for him, and his own increasing willingness to share just a bit more of his dessert with the man in return. He remembered the way his insides flip-flopped at Roy’s smile, and how he never quite realized he needed the man’s touch until it would happen with a simple brush of their hands as they walked together.
And he remembered the way Roy had looked at him, dark eyes full of a promise Edward ached to realize, telling him that they would speak tomorrow about arranging their date.
As if they hadn’t been dating this entire time.
And as much as Edward wanted to go find Roy that next morning, he had something else pressing to deal with.
“I’m going to have to bum cigarettes for a week,” Havoc groaned as he was counting bills out of his wallet.
“Maybe next time you’ll not make stupid bets with Breda.” Edward informed him loftily as he watched the counting with a beady eye. “Pay up.”
Breda was counting out money from his wallet as well, although was being a far better sport about it. It wouldn’t be the first bet he’d lost, and now he knew not to ever try betting against the boss again. “Here,” he offered out the stack of cash.
“Thank you,” Edward accepted with a smirk and split the stack down the middle to shove it at Fuery. “Your cut.”
Fuery blinked in shock but scrambled to grab the wad of bills. “For what?”
“Don’t question it.” Edward told him and then snatched the rest of his winnings from Havoc’s more reluctant hand. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Anytime you have doubts about my love life again you just let me know and I’d be delighted to rob you blind.”
Havoc thunked his head down onto his desk as Breda groaned at the thought good naturedly.
“So, where are you taking the Fuhrer for a date?” Fuery couldn’t help but ask, especially given it was his suggestion. “Same place?”
“Don’t know.” Edward admitted as he made a show of trying to stuff the massive stack of cash into his protesting wallet. “We haven’t discussed it yet. I figured it’s my treat but his choice. Not that I intend to tell any of you what that choice is. I’m still not quite sure how this whole thing didn’t turn into a spectator sport for all of you, but it’s not starting now.”
And with that said, he let himself into Roy’s private office.
“How much was that bet?” Roy asked with a laugh as he looked up to see Edward still fussing with his wallet with a frown.
“Five hundred apiece from them, although I gave Fuery a portion of it.” Edward really hoped his wallet wasn’t about to burst at the seams, he liked this wallet.
Roy didn’t question Fuery getting a cut, he had a feeling he knew exactly why Edward had done it. “And what of me?”
Edward looked up with a smile and finally gave it up for as good as it was going to get and tucked his wallet away. Walking over to Roy’s desk he came around to the other man’s side of it to lean back against the sun-warmed wood and look out the windows. “I was thinking I’d let you choose the place. The pub or wherever, I don’t mind. Although I’m starting to get concerned at how many of the waitstaff there know my name now.”
Roy laughed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach as he gazed up at the blond standing there next to him, golden hair glowing in the sunlight and looking utterly at peace. “My place.”
Edward startled at the words, attention whipping down onto the man even as his heart seemed to take up racing with hope. “I – your – what?”
Roy chuckled fondly at the stumbling words, “I want to cook you dinner. And you wanted to see the blankets I’ve knit.”
“But…” Edward floundered as he felt heat rise to his cheeks, “how would that be my treat if you’re cooking for me?”
“I’ll bring you receipts for the food I buy.” Roy explained with a soft smile. “So, my place? Seven?”
Edward found himself smiling back, and he nodded. “Seven,” he managed to utter, before he let himself out of Roy’s office with excitement thrumming through his veins.
He only stayed at work long enough to get done anything that was necessary of him before heading home early. He wasn’t able to focus on work very well anyway right now, and as far as he was concerned there was a hot bath with his name on it waiting at home.
He had a date to prepare for.
҉
Edward was fairly sure his heart was pounding louder than the knock he’d given to Roy’s front door. But whether Roy heard the knock to the door or the pounding of his heart, the door was soon swung open and he was beckoned inside.
“I like it,” Edward grinned as he stepped inside and began to take off his boots while admiring the apron and its knitted ties that Roy was wearing, “nice alteration.”
“Thanks,” Roy chuckled and waited for Edward to be done with his boots before saying softly, “you look really nice tonight.”
Edward busied himself with tidying his boots off to one side so that Roy might not notice the way those simple words heated his face, “thanks.”
“You did every single night with those others, not that any of them bothered to tell you. They should have,” Roy added in that same soft tone.
Edward looked up then, there was really only so much that went into tucking ones boots off to the side anyway. And he stepped over to Roy while fighting to stay his hands from reaching out for the man; difficult, when Roy was looking at him the way he was. “Even if they had, none of them were you, Roy,” he confessed softly.
Roy smiled, a soft laugh of fond agreement almost inaudible as it escaped him, and he nodded. “Come, dinner is ready. And if you can wait all of a minute for me to go rehang my apron, I’ll join you shortly.”
“I can wait a bit longer for you,” Edward laughed as he allowed Roy to guide him further into the house, the hand at the small of his back feeling like a brand. “But not much.”
The double meaning was not lost on him, and despite the rebuilding desire to show Edward to an entirely different room instead, Roy managed to navigate them both over to where he’d placed their dinner on trays on the large knit blanket that he’d thrown over his living room floor to set up a picnic-style meal. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
Edward felt the loss of Roy’s hand against him keenly, and he watched the man go with an admiring gaze for the sight of Roy’s ass draped with knitted apron strings. Yet the sight was gone all too soon for his liking, so he turned back to their dinner, unable to help the grin that came over him.
He carefully settled down onto the blanket with its chevron multitudes of bright color, tugging off his gloves and running an admiring hand over it. He’d not expected a relaxed picnic-style dinner in Roy’s cozy living room, but after almost two weeks of dinners sat on a pub stool, he was happy with the change of pace. And if anything, he was fairly certain that it was making the wonderful dinner Roy had set out on trays for them smell all the more delicious.
“I’m only half surprised you haven’t devoured it all yet,” Roy commented humoredly as he walked back into the room and joined Ed on the blanket.
Edward shot him a dirty look, even if his teasing smile likely ruined the full effect. “I have some discipline.”
Roy grinned and plucked up the bottle of wine to uncork it and fill the glass that Edward held out. “That might just be the most unlikely thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Bastard,” Edward huffed before he took a sip of his wine.
Roy merely continued to grin, filling his own wineglass before recorking the bottle and setting it safely aside.
Edward lowered his own glass, carefully setting it on his dinner tray while saying, “the blanket is beautiful, Roy.”
Genuinely pleased with the compliment, given he’d spent almost an entire hour agonizing over which blanket to use, Roy couldn’t help but beam a bit in pleased relief. “Thank you.”
“How long did it take to complete?” Edward then asked as he picked up his dinner tray to balance it carefully on his legs so he could begin eating.
“This one was almost seven months.”
The subject of Roy’s knitwork lasted them a good while, and while eventually they moved on to other topics or moments of easy silence together as they laughed and ate and drank, it didn’t escape Edward’s notice that somehow, progressively, they kept migrating closer together.
Come time for dessert, when all the other plates and the wineglasses had been cleared, Edward had given it up and was now all but seated on Roy’s lap.
They had ended up side-by-side, the pear cheesecake balanced between them on their interlaced legs, and currently, they were both snickering over Edward attempting to battle Roy’s fork away from the cheesecake.
“You got so good at sharing,” Roy grinned and feinted his fork one direction in order to score himself a rather admirable chunk of cheesecake.
“Those were pub desserts. Hardly anything to save in a recipe box.” Edward argued through his own grin and snagged himself another bite, thoroughly enjoying with an audible groan the way it melted in his mouth. “This? This is good.”
Roy was pleased with the compliment, but not nearly as pleased as he was about the sounds of enjoyment coming out of Edward. “Keep making sounds like that and I’ll let you eat the whole thing.”
Edward flushed and looked over to meet Roy’s gaze, the open affection of his expression and the heat in those dark eyes doing nothing at all to temper his own thoughts. “Why did you never say anything? I know I was determined to win that bet, but… I’d have lost if you’d asked me to.”
Roy smiled just a bit mischievously, “because,” he began in a tone as if the answer should be obvious, “I wanted you to win as well. A bet like that? They deserved to lose and hopefully learn from it. And at the risk of sounding entirely arrogant here – ”
Edward smiled.
“ – after the disaster that was the ranch dressing pub brawl, I wasn’t worried I’d lose you to someone else.” Roy admitted.
Edward tapped the tines of his fork against his lips for a moment as he considered Roy with sparkling humor in his eyes and what he was fairly sure was an absolutely besotted smile on his lips. “You were the one I enjoyed being with most of all,” he confessed softly.
Roy’s fork laid forgotten on the cheesecake plate as he raised a hand up to caress Edward’s cheek. “Remind me to thank Havoc and Breda for being such idiots.”
Edward snorted at the thought, “maybe once they’ve had more time to suffer their loss.”
It was agreed, and then it was back to the battle over the pear cheesecake and more laughter. Only once the cheesecake had been finished did they get up again, with Edward contently trailing after Roy into the kitchen. It was there that he was backed up against one of the counters, and entirely willing to be trapped, he slipped his hands onto Roy’s hips to tug him closer.
“Do you recall the first blind date? The guy who couldn’t be bothered to ask you a single question?” Roy asked even as he properly crowded Edward against the counter until the only thing separating them was clothing that Roy knew would have to go. And soon.
Edward gave him a bewildered look, even as he hooked one arm around Roy’s hips to keep him there while the other began to snare fingers into the front of the man’s shirt. “Sadly, yes. I hope you have a good reason for bringing him up, because I can’t say he did anything for me.”
“That’s the point,” Roy began to smirk, and reaching around with one hand he discarded the tie from Edward’s braid to begin carding the golden mane of hair loose around his fingers. “You mentioned that he was a two-and-a-half times a week missionary sort of guy and that wouldn’t do it for you. So my question is, Edward, what does?”
Edward turned a shade of red he wasn’t sure he’d ever managed before now, and wasn’t sure he’d ever manage again. “While admittedly I don’t think constant missionary could be boring with you, I – ” he rose up onto his toes, using his hold on Roy’s shirt to give him leverage to whisper into the man’s ear.
The next thing Edward knew, was that Roy kissed with a single-minded passion and intensity that caused his knees to nearly buckle. And when those fingers now securely tangled in his hair tilted his head back to guide him deeper into the kiss, he was no longer able to keep his whine of approval at bay. But any embarrassment he might have felt was quickly banished as Roy clearly decided he wanted more vocalizations.
A lot more.
He wasn’t sure where exactly in Roy’s house he lost all his clothes except for a singular sock, but that hazy fragment of a thought ended when he finally received a very intimate introduction to the rest of Roy’s knit blanket collection which was covering the man’s bed.