Work Text:
Ed groaned heavily, throwing a hand over his eyes, rubbing them. He looked sideways at the notes he had been writing for the past… However many hours it was, in disgust and sighed again.
His head was pounding. His back was aching from being cooped up in a strange position on the wooden hotel room chair for Truth knew how long. And no matter how much he tried he just could. Not. Get it.
It was supposed to be an easy task. Really fucking easy. That was why he agreed to help in the first place instead of going back to Resembool as he intended. Some poor girl had approached him just as he was packing for a train and asked if he could help with the construction of the bridge. We have alchemists she said, but they don’t know how to build such a thing. I think they just need guidance .
Despite himself, Ed scoffed under his breath.
Guidance, sure, his ass. Those “alchemists” knew almost nothing when it came to basics. That was what Ed realized as soon as he saw their sketches of the transmutation circles. Every single one was just slightly off, based on something, sure, but what that something was supposed to be was literally anyone’s guess.
Ed looked at the wretched papers before him, furrowing his brows.
It was just… A mess. Like they based the circles on some upper level of thinking, completely forgetting the foundations.
The worst part?
Ed forgot the foundations as well. Maybe it came with not using the alchemy as frequently as he used to before. Sure. But still. Fucking embarrassing.
Just thinking about it made his temples ache.
One is all and all is one has been engraved into his head with golden letters, Master had made sure of that. Everything else? Seemed to slip his mind. It wasn't like Ed was actively trying to forget it, it just… Got erased from his brain. And it didn’t help that the book he always had on him for incidents like this one now had been with Al. Just his luck.
Involuntarily, Ed looked at the pictures before him, trying to calm his frustrations down a bit.
During his time travelling, he noticed that he would sometimes get homesick. Sometimes he would just get this sudden feeling, this loneliness and misery that would keep him cooped up in his room, waiting for at least one of his friends to write to him, so that he could stop feeling this way.
Surprisingly, it was Winry’s idea to start sending him pictures of some important things that happened in their lives while he was missing. So Ed’s eyes skimmed over the photo with Winry, proudly grinning, standing in front of her newly opened shop in Rush Valley, to the one with Al and Mei on their first joint visit to Xing, Ling’s coronation day, granny Pinako and Den sitting on the porch, Den’s head nestled on Pianko’s thigh, Master’s reopened butchery…
It stayed briefly on one frame that was still left empty. Ed refused to think about the way his heart trembled a little every time he took the time to notice it.
He took a deep breath. Gosh. What could he do?
Frantically trying to remember the basics didn’t help him. It was no use to call Al and ask him to send the book back to him, because damnit, it could take ages. His own notes weren’t helping much, because they also used the basics as a staple, and it was simply…
Just before he started to nervously tug at his hair, a gentle knock tore him from his thoughts.
“Open” he mumbled and winced at the sound of his own voice, rough from the lack of use. Damn, he really should go out soon.
The door opened, and a man from the hotel room staff stepped in, a brown package in his hands. Ed frowned, seeing as the man eyed him with a flash of surprise and… Something else glistening in his eyes.
“I’m sorry to disturb you at such an hour, sir, but a package just came for you,” he said, his eyes darting between Ed and the door. Ed’s frown only deepened.
Who the hell would send him a package? Sure, he had been staying here for a while now, but both Winry and Granny had been alerted as to why, Al knew as well, so there was no use in sending him anything. And the way the delivery guy was so nervous… What could be in that package?
He gestured for the man to place the package somewhere, golden eyes never leaving him. But no, the guy didn't jump immediately from the table when he did as Ed asked, neither did he look like he wanted to bolt out of the room. So, probably not a bomb. That made him calm down a tad.
“Would that be all?” he asked, already standing up. The guy only nodded. “Well, thanks. Have a good…” Ed looked through the window. He winced at the sight of the dark sky. Ah, damnit. “Night, I guess.”
The man only nodded again and disappeared, closing the door quietly behind him, while Ed went to the table.
He gingerly took the package in his hands, raising a brow as he felt how heavy it was. Who in their right mind would…
His eyes fell on the neatly penned address of the sender.
His treacherous heart skipped a beat.
Ah. So that was why the guy was so nervous. A package from a Brigadier General of a foreign country sure rang some alarm bells.
Despite himself, Ed smiled. Geez, he hadn’t heard from the bastard since their meeting at the cemetery.
His fingers tightened briefly around the package, some sappy part of his brain thinking about Roy’s fingers wrapping and tying it carefully.
A rush of heat spread through his cheeks, while Ed pressed his lips, ignoring how his own fingers shook while untying the package.
Fucking hell, he’s been doing so well.
It wasn’t like he consciously tried to not keep in touch with Roy. It was just… The man looked busy. All of those newspapers that Ed could get his hands on, and could understand, always showed the bastard doing something that at least looked important, and Ed would hate to interfere. Especially with something so stupid as his crushes. Which he should get over in time, but for some fucking reason they kept him up at night. Especially torturous was the smile Roy gave him when he took the watch from him because it was just so soft, and genuinely hopeful and just…
If he could, he would run a hand over his face in embarrassment. Geez.
He figured that if the man wanted to stay in touch, he would do so himself. And since he didn’t…
His eyes widened as the brown paper revealed the very fucking book he was dying to get his hands on for the past few days. Yes, the title was covered by an envelope, but Ed knew the book’s look by heart. The brownish, leather cover, the slightly rounded spine… And even though the linings were dark, not golden, still… Holy fuck.
“You bastard” he whispered to himself in disbelief. He hesitantly ran a hand over the cover, picking up the envelope. At least his fingers weren’t shaking anymore. The fact that his whole body shook instead was beside the point. How he managed not to tear apart both the letter and the envelope was beyond him.
Dear Edward,
I imagine that asking “How are you?” would be slightly unnecessary. Your accomplishments in both Xing and Auergo have reached even Amestris; congratulations on your speech in Auergo. Not many have the pleasure of giving a lecture there.
However, it was brought to my attention that you got stranded in Auergo for quite some time. Miss Rockbell told me what was the matter, and as so happens, I own a copy of the book you need right now. Although, really, I have expected better from you. Forgetting about the basics already? One would think your memory was better than that.
As you can probably see, my version is slightly older than yours, thus some information may not be as accurate as the later copies. But don’t worry, I’ve made some annotations throughout the years to rectify it. I hope it won’t be a problem for you.
I hope that this will help you come back to Amestris faster. I think your friends miss you.
Sincerely,
Roy Mustang
P.S. Remember. Don’t be a stranger.
Ed blinked. Sat down. Blinked some more, and gently ran his fingers through the inked letters and yeap. Yeap, the letter was still there. Roy Mustang chastising him through the letter was still there, and even though it should be annoying it felt… Weirdly comforting. As if some part of him that was dying for attention had finally been fed.
That part of him had him scan the letter even closer. For someone who moaned about the paperwork, the man had a surprisingly elegant style of writing. His gs and js were slightly curved, the big letter E was so fancily penned that Ed was surprised that the man had anything done through the course of his military career. Damn, if that didn’t work out for him, he should become a calligrapher.
Still looking at the letter, he blindly reached for the book, trying to focus more on the actual content. So he has heard about him? He knew about his travels? Huh. Huh.
“The bastard” Ed whispered to himself for the second time, but still without any heat behind it. His memory was fine, he was simply forgetting things. It happens to the best for fucks sake.
Also Winry, the little minx. How could she sell him out like that? He thought it would be at least Al to do something like this out of the two, and…
His fingers stroked the two last sentences of the letter.
“My friends miss me, huh?” he mumbled. Gosh. Was he reading too much into it? After all, it was just one letter. It didn’t need to mean anything. It could be just a one-off thing. Maybe Roy…
Fuck, he was doing it again.
He groaned, but now for entirely different reasons than previously, one hand already opening the book beside him. He briefly tore his look from the letter and yeah, Ro… Fucking hell, Mustang’s notes were almost on every other page. Ed shook his head, trying to get the mental image of the man, sitting comfortably in some armchair and writing with that little frown of his, out of his head.
He returned his look to the letter instead.
What a fucking nerd. Who writes his full name in a letter meant for a… friend? Fucking bastard, and fucking way he had him smile at such a quirk and…
Remember. Don’t be a stranger.
Well, he could at least thank him. That would be seen as… okay, right? And he could buy him some trinket from Auergo. Something small, of course. He recalled seeing a blue and black bookmark. Maybe Roy would like it?
The piercing sound of a ringing phone tore Ed from his sleep.
He groaned, hiding his head in a pillow, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the offending device. And yet still, the fucking sound didn't cease to exist. Combined with the heavy pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windows, it was making a cacophony of sounds that couldn't be ignored. One had to go.
And unfortunately, he had the power to cancel only one of these noises.
The sound that got out of his throat was between a painful moan and an angry growl, yet still, he forced himself to move the covers and tramp toward the phone. He winced when the noise only grew louder as he approached.
With sluggish movements, he picked up the phone handle and mumbled an exhausted:
“Hello?”
Annoyance grew inside of him when on the other side all he could hear was ragged breathing. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly on the nightstand.
“Winry, I fucking promise you, I didn't take any…”
“Ed?”
Ed’s heart stopped.
The voice was slightly distorted because of the speaker, but he would recognise that timbre anywhere.
“Roy?” he asked, shocked. The breathing on the other side grew more irregular.
“I… I apologize, I shouldn’t have called…”
That made all traces of sleepiness disappear in an instant. Ed tensed, his voice jumping up an octave when he immediately responded with “No. No, don’t you dare hang up.”
He wasn’t exactly sure what made him panic like that, but… The breathing. The way Roy’s tone was so… Meek. Uncertain. Just as it was in the cemetery when he…
“I apologize,” Roy repeated again. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
That made the anxiety in Ed’s stomach only tighten. Roy sounded so… Resigned. Tired. Fucking hell. What should he do?
“It’s fine” he muttered, unconsciously scanning the room he was in. His eyes locked on his picture collection, and he focused on the newest addition to it.
Apparently, when he and Roy renewed their contact, it made all of the old team reach out to him as well. And he didn't know who spilled to Riza - his money was on Mei this time - but one morning he got a letter from her, and with it a picture of Roy.
Who took it was still a mystery, but fuck, wasn’t Ed happy to have it. Whoever took it, chose the perfect time to do it. Roy wasn’t looking at the camera in this picture, instead, he was looking somewhere in the distance, his face pensive, but still a gentle smile danced on his lips. He was still in his military uniform but the jacket was unclasped, his white gloves held gingerly in one hand.
It was a calm picture.
It was everything that Ed was not, hearing Roy trying to gather himself on the other side of the phone.
“Roy” he repeated gently, trying to at least sound comforting. “What’s wrong?” And before the man could interject, he quickly added: “And please, don’t bullshit me.”
The sound of a weak chuckle made him unclench his hands just a bit. Finally some other response than just ragged breathing.
“Straight to the point, right, Ed?”
He huffed, leaning on the nightstand a bit heavier.
“You know me. I prefer straight to the point. I leave all the maiming and sweet talking to you.”
He was almost certain Roy smiled. He pressed his lips at the feeling of longing that started to bubble underneath his skin. He hasn’t seen him in so long… But also hasn’t heard him either. Just letters.
Meanwhile, Roy seemed to move somewhere. Ed could clearly hear the sound of something ruffling on the speaker, and could almost imagine Roy leaning on something as well. A deep sigh resonated through the line.
“I apologize,” he said once again, the tightness in his voice making a return. Ed started to hesitantly curl his finger on a strand of hair. “It’s just… The hands… The neverending voices… The darkness… His smile…”
Ed almost buckled hearing those words. Oh fuck.
To any other person, those words may have been a complete gibberish. But… Only a few had the fucking privilege to see what they saw.
“You dreamt about Truth?” he whispered, his voice barely getting out through the tightness in his throat.
“Yes.”
Ed bowed his head. His fingers clenched over his arms again, but now for an entirely different reason.
When he came back from the Gate for the first time, he had those dreams often. Sure, some of them were about mum or Al getting distorted, taken away. But then some… Black, wiry hands grabbing his back. Flashes. Images of things he never understood. He remembered how he wanted to scream, but his voice never seemed to carry, getting instantly lost in the myriad of information forced into his brain. And then suddenly it would stop. Suddenly he’d wake up in his bed in a cold sweat.
It was truly a miracle that Roy started to have those nightmares only now.
“I’m sorry” he whispered and immediately winced. Gee, what a helpful thing to say. He tugged on his hair a bit harder. “Are you… I don't know. Okay?”
“No idea.” Ed imagined him crossing his arms over his chest as well, tapping his finger on one arm. He hoped that the man wasn’t shaking. “It’s just… A lot to process.”
Despite himself, Ed chuckled bitterly.
“It is,” he agreed. His eyes still were focused on Roy’s picture. “It’s the amount of information, you know?”
“Precisely” Roy breathed, and Ed could tell that he was deep in thought. The finger curling the hair trembled. He knew from experience that if you try to make sense of it… “Like you had all of the world’s secrets in front of you, and you know you recognise them, but they are just stored in the back of your head, in bits and pieces, but maybe if you could reach them, then you’d arrive at the conclusion but…”
“The hands take you away from it” Ed finished for him. Roy hummed on the other side in agreement. Ed let go of the hair and focused on the way the nightstand’s edge was pressing on his back. “And you still try to understand it as you go, because maybe if you get something from it for others…”
“You’ll stop feeling guilty,” Roy murmured. Ed shook his head in wonder.
“Look at us. Agreeing so well” he teased, and he smiled when he heard Roy’s chuckle. Even though it was a little wet.
Silence fell upon them. The pitter-patter of the rain started to grow even heavier, but he could also hear some similar sounds on Roy’s side as well. And for some reason, it made him feel… Weirdly comforted. There they were, on completely different sides of the continent, and yet it was raining on both sides. Damn. Poetic or something.
“Does it get easier?”
The question startled him. He shook his head, but then he remembered Roy couldn't see him so he mumbled:
“No. Not really.” Roy’s tired sigh made his heart twist. He closed his eyes, trying to focus.
He at least had Al with him. And he had been there for Al when he started to remember as well. Meanwhile Roy… Sure, he had Riza, but this was a different kind of nightmare. The kind when only those who went through it understood.
I didn’t know who else to call , Roy told him. And in fact, he was probably his only option.
“But you can call me” he muttered, the sincerity dripping from his tone surprising even him. “Seriously. Call or something, I’ll try to answer.”
He expected Roy to fight him on it for a little. He expected that he would at least try to slip on his mask and say it was unbecoming or some other fancy word, of a General to do such a thing. So when he only heard an:
“Okay”
he didn't know what to feel. He only knew that the relief that made him finally fully relax was the best feeling he had had in months. “Same goes to you, Ed.”
He smiled warmly to himself.
“Thanks.”
A beat of silence. And then…
“And I see you have finally started to use my name.” The familiar, sly tone was back. Ed could almost hear him smirk. “Good to know you still remember something other than ‘bastard’.”
“Oh, fuck you!”
The streets of Liore were lively that day. People were chattering, kids were laughing playing some game, while parents were calling them to dinner. Ed smiled to himself, taking a sip of his soup, relishing in the feeling of finally eating something more concrete than the ratio bars that they had on an expedition.
He stumbled here by accident, simply trying to go back from the desert when he ran into a group of people. From word to word, he decided to join the alchemist expedition as an assisting expert. It was nice, he thought, mindlessly poking the bowl with his spoon. Since that little incident in Auergo, he didn’t think much about the science behind alchemy and it was refreshing to see people getting excited at even the most basic of stuff.
He looked at his soup again, shaking his head. But that also meant living almost literally under the rock for a few weeks. The only radio they had were to be used only in the most dire situations, so they had to be smart about it. And besides, the goal was to learn, not laze around, as some students did on that expedition. So yeah. It was nice to return to civilization after so long in radio silence.
Absentmindedly, Ed’s eyes travelled to the phone booth nearby. He should call Roy, Al and Winry and tell them that he was back and that he was going to head to…
-...and it appears that the police have finally captured the man behind the assassination of the Major General…
Ed went still. His head whipped in the direction of the radio that stood on the counter. His breathing quickened, as he tried to focus, tuning out any other noise around him. What?
-...which took place in Central no longer than a week ago. As you recall, the attempt was motivated by the hostility to current Fuhrer Grumman and took place as he was awarding the newest Major General…
Now he wasn’t breathing. He was panting hard, his thoughts racing, as he desperately tried to logic his way out of this.
Roy was supposed to be there.
He remembered he mentioned it in one of his newest letters. Something about Grumman wanting to show his trust to him. But he wasn't supposed to be the only one there, right? There were others? It didn't have to be Roy who got…
His body moved for him, and he got to the counter at record speed.
“Hey, sir” he called to the old man behind the counter. “This… This assassination attempt… Have you heard something about it?”
The guy eyed him, furrowing his brows, but then a spark of understanding shone in his eyes. Ed’s heart started to pound.
“Ah, you were with the expedition, right?” When Ed nodded stiffly, the man only shook his head. “Poor guy. Grumman was just about to award him, when two shots rang, and they say he moved to cover him, then some fire happened and they found him dead, the little fucker running away… You know, I’ve heard he was some ex-military, maybe that’s why they didn’t recognize him at first in this disguise… Hey, you all right?”
Ed blinked furiously. The warmth of the sun was still there, but it didn't quite seem to reach his skin. He felt cold inside, his body shivering, a fact, that he was only distantly aware of, squandered by the weight of his thoughts.
Fuck, it didn't have to be Roy. It really didn't have to, but… The fire. The place. The fucking urge to self-sacrifice, fuck, fucking hell…
He reached into his pouch, fishing out the letters from Roy, scanning them frantically. But no. No, he remembered right. Central. Award ceremony. The dates matched. Fuck. Fuck .
He blinked away the unwanted tears. No. No, nothing was certain, maybe he still got something wrong.
“Y… yeah” he muttered, trying to at least act like a functioning human being. Even though his whole world seemed like it was falling apart. “Do you…” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “Do you remember the name of that General?”
The guy rested a hand on his chin. Ed desperately tried not to look like his next words could knock him out of existence.
“No, not really” the man finally muttered. But just as Ed was about to relax a bit, he added, brows furrowing. “But I think it started with an m…”
Ed’s heart sank. He stumbled away from the counter, and in a matter of seconds he was at the phone booth he saw earlier. He was about to raise his shaking hand to dial the number, but…
He didn't know who to call. He didn't want to call Roy’s house number, because if… no, not ifs, he was alive, and because he was alive, he would be in the headquarters. And he didn't want to call the headquarters, because he fucking knew it was a private matter and noone would take him seriously, and fuck the military rules, for fucks sake…
Something wet fell from his cheeks and surprised, Ed realized he was crying. His hand still was hovering over the dial, shaking, as he desperately tried to gather himself. What should he do?
He squeezed his eyes shut. Roy couldn’t be dead. He simply couldn’t. Ed talked to him over the phone no more than a few weeks ago. He promised he’d call now. He had plans. He wanted to go visit him in his free time. And they still haven’t met, all they had were letters and those calls, and no, no, Ed refused to believe he was dead, but how could he check if he was such a coward that he was too scared to dial a fucking number?
He let go of the phone, trying to at least catch his breath, before dark spots started to dance in front of his eyes. What did Al make him do when he got like this?
Right. The road back from school to their home.
He took a few steps back and curled under some wall, knees drawn flush to his chest.
Turn right, go straight through the bridge… Watch out for the slippery plank in the middle… Then still straight, up until the crossroad…
His breathing started to come in easier, even though tears were still falling from his eyes. He clutched his pouch to himself.
After the crossroad, they needed to climb up the hill, taking note of all the tree roots, because one of them would always trip and fall, and… And… And when they’d look down, they would see all of Resembool, with its fields and cemetery, and the train station…
Ed shot up. Train station. Liore had one as well, it was recently added, and it had a fucking connection to Central.
He was running before he knew it.
The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the wagon, looking through the window, trying desperately to focus on the things they were passing. All around him, people were reading newspapers, and he knew that maybe if he looked, he would know for sure that it wasn't Roy who got…
He shook his head, as a fresh wave of tears entered his eyes. His grip on the pouch only grew tighter, one palm firmly clutching the frame with Roy's photo.
He couldn't look at the newspapers though. Because what if they showed his face? What if they had this stupid in-memoriam section written all over the first page? A wave of unjustified anger made Ed’s skin crawl. Not a single one of those journalists could even write such a memoriam correctly. Not for such a man.
He shook his head in frustration. No. No, Roy wasn’t dead. He couldn't be.
Not when Ed still had unfinished business with him.
He didn’t even get to give him back the cens.
His heart squeezed painfully as his shoulders tensed. He ran a hand through his hair. It was going to be fine. It was. Fuck. Fucking hell.
“Get a grip, Ed” he muttered to himself angrily, and yet still the underlying fear and sadness didn't want to go away. He at least managed to ignore the surprised stare of some older lady sitting right next to him.
When the train finally arrived at Central, Ed could only dash to the headquarters. And sure, maybe he looked like a madman, running through the city in his coat still dusty from the desert and blonde hair tangled from Ed’s constant urge to run his hands through his hair, but he didn’t care. And thank fuck people still recognised him in Central. No doubt that if he was anyone else, someone would stop him in the headquarters just as he run in. But as such, people only stared at him in confusion, as he sprinted through the corridors, taking the familiar route.
He barged into the office at record speed, making everyone inside jump in their seats.
“Where is he?” he managed to get out, his eyes frantically scanning the room. Havoc and Breda looked at him in suspicion, while Fuery and Falman stilled over his desk. Riza stood up.
“Ed” she started gently, her brown eyes shining in some weird emotion, and Ed didn’t have the emotional capacity to understand it. All of his focus was now on one thing.
“Where is he?” he repeated, now focusing solely on Riza, as she took a few steps forward carefully, as if she was approaching a spooked animal. She tried to smile at him softly.
“Sit down for a bit, Ed,” she asked calmly, but Ed only shook his head. He could feel his legs trembling from such a race through the city, but it didn't matter. He had to know, she knew that, why was she stalling, why didn’t she…
“Where is he?” he said for the third time, not shying away from the desperation in his voice. Because fuck. Fuck, if Riza wasn't giving it to him straight on, then that meant it was bad, awful even, and that could only mean…
“What is this commotion?”
Ed stilled.
This voice.
Ain’t no fucking way.
He cautiously turned in the direction of the inner office door, his heart pounding in his ears.
And there he was.
Roy fucking Mustang, in all of his fucking glory, with one hand on the door handle, brows furrowed, but as soon as his eyes met Ed’s, they flashed in an understanding.
Ed suddenly felt like he could fall over. “Ah. I see.”
And without any other explanation, he simply went to Ed, grabbed his wrist and led him to the office, Ed dumbly following after him. He tried to take a deep breath and calm down, but his head couldn't catch up with his eyes yet. He tried to focus on the feeling of Roy’s fingers gingerly but firmly encircling his wrist, applying the pressure that should be comforting, because it was there, Ed wasn’t imagining it, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t…
As soon as the door closed behind them, Ed wrenched his wrist from the grip, and grabbed Roy around his waist, bringing him flush to him. He ignored the surprised sound that got out of Roy at the gesture. Instead, he pressed him even closer. His eyes widened briefly in surprise when he noticed that now he was tall enough to comfortably bury his head in the man’s neck, and he quickly took advantage of it, inhaling deeply for the first time since Liore.
Fuck.
Fresh tears prickled at his eyes, but this time for entirely different reasons.
He ran his hands over Roy’s back, the leather of his travel gloves catching on the rough ends of the woollen military jacket. He pressed his nose further into the smooth skin of Roy’s neck, trying to commit to memory this smell of ink, paper and a little bit of a fancy cologne, ignoring completely how the insignia dug into his cheek. He felt Roy breathe under him, and slowly, his arms encircled him as well, pressing them together even more.
Finally, finally, the relief started to settle in.
Ed breathed.
Roy was safe. Roy was all right. Fucking hell, he was there, healthy and alive, and Ed could finally feel him, touch him, after years of not seeing him, and fuck, fuck, he has been so scared and…
Roy hummed.
“Let it out,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m good, Ed. I’m fine, let it out.”
And let it out he did.
He didn’t know how long they stood in the middle of the office just hugging each other. But he didn't care. All that mattered, was that Roy was safe, and Ed could finally breathe without worry filling him with each inhale, and they… They were finally together.
He reluctantly leaned back in order to look at Roy properly, and almost blushed seeing how the man was smiling gently at him. Fuck. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry some more.
He missed it. He missed him .
“You fucking bastard,” he whispered and winced at how spent his voice was. Still, he tried to look at least a bit annoyed. “You bastard, how dare you. How dare you…”
“Have a similar name to other Major Generals?” Roy supplied, his gentle smile turning into a smirk. It should have annoyed Ed, but it weirdly helped him feel more at ease. This was familiar. This thing he knew. “My deepest apologies, I’ll change my name for the future.”
“Yeah,” Ed muttered, shaking his head. He stifled a yawn. Damn. Fuck. He hadn’t slept in a while. “You fucking better.”
Roy only sighed, rolling his eyes but Ed finally knew him well enough to tell he was faking it. He refused to admit that it was somewhat amusing. But then the man leaned down a bit, and Ed startled when he felt a warm finger smooth his undereye gingerly. The blush from earlier almost made a return.
“Although I am thrilled to see you, you should go to sleep,” Roy stated in an almost perfect replica of his no-nonsense tone. “You look dead on your feet.”
Despite himself, Ed chuckled, trying to mask his nervousness. Yeah, probably he should, but he had no idea where he could stay, and… And…
His arms still encircling Roy’s waist tightened. He wasn’t ready to let go yet.
And Roy, as if annoyingly reading his mind, added: “You can stay here. I know you’ve crashed on a couch several times already.” Ed sputtered, but he let go of Roy and hesitantly walked to the couch. When he laid his head on the pillows, he groaned, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. He squinted at Roy when he heard him laugh.
“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” he muttered, wiggling a little to try to make himself more comfortable. “It’s not my fault that you get a kick out of making people worried sick.”
His eyes followed how Roy moved to the coat rack in the corner of his office. He frowned, seeing how he limped slightly, and immediately sat up. “You’re limping.”
Roy only shook his head.
“Yeah, well, I still was at the ceremony. I have managed to get things under control, but some stray bar fell on my leg.” He jerked his head to his desk, and Ed noticed a black cane leaning against it. “But I am almost fully recovered. Don’t worry.”
“Who’s worrying” Ed mumbled, just to be a little shit. Roy only shot him a look but didn’t comment. Instead, he gently pushed Ed back on the couch, draping his black coat over him.
“Go to sleep, Ed,” he muttered, standing up, and then added so quietly, that Ed almost didn’t catch it. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
And with that he returned to his desk, while Ed finally gave in, burying his nose in the coat. He didn’t close his eyes yet. He was observing Roy, as he busied himself with reports, the afternoon sun coming in through the window, its rays catching on the State Alchemist watch Ed knew wasn't Roy's. The last traces of fear finally subdued. Ed’s lips turned up into a lopsided grin.
I love you, Ed thought, letting warmth spread through him as he watched Roy work. And for some reason, this thought didn’t scare him. Rather, it calmed him, washing over him like a warm blanket, finally allowing him to close his eyes.
He didn’t see how Roy was smiling gently to himself the whole time.