Chapter Text
There are too many anniversaries, too many things to remember and grieve.
Yet they couldn't bring themselves to forget.
So they agreed: one day a year, they would take the time to reminisce.
For Ed, the date was obvious.
After all these years, Ed still carried his State Alchemist watch. It was a symbol for everything he sacrificed, everything he experienced. And in this strange new world, it was a symbol to remind himself that there was something to return to. Roy’s watch was in a drawer in their bedroom, untouched for years.
His gloves, on the other hand, remained in a pocket at all times, along with a lighter. He didn’t need the arrays on the gloves anymore, not with the scar carved on the back of his hand; not with the sin of human transmutation of his shoulders. But having the spark cloth was familiar and familiarity was a life line in this world.
Ed thrived on symbolism, Roy knew. For Roy, the date mattered less than honoring the memories. Ishval, Maes, the Promised Day. But for Ed, October 3rd was a day of renewal. A day that symbolized the need to keep moving forward, despite everything that happened and would continue to happen to him. To them.
But it was always a rough day.
Even when, Roy pointed out, it was technically their anniversary.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ed sighed as he made his way into the newly built bar in Central City. In truth, he didn’t care where he ended up, just that it was somewhere with alcohol.
He had just arrived back in Amestris only days before, his skin a deep tan from crossing the great desert after his year spent in Xing. Alphonse had chosen to remain in Xing with Mei, continuing his research into the medicinal alkahestry of the Dragon’s Pulse.
Ed’s wanderlust got the best of him and he chose to return to Amestris. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, exactly. The military would be after him to return following his extended leave of absence over the past year. Winry would expect him to retrieve his belongings from their- no, not *their*- home, not anymore; but he couldn’t bring himself to go to Resembool. Not yet. The wound left by… it was too deep, too raw, even after nearly two years.
He thought perhaps he would visit Teacher next. She understood, more than anyone.
But first, he wanted to get wasted.
The bar was smoky, but an overall nicer establishment. A large woman with heavy make up and a bulldog face turned to him as he sat at the bar. Her eyebrows rose, he could tell she recognized him, but she didn’t say anything.
“Whiskey, please.”
She nodded and poured it before sliding it to him across the bar.
“Anything else? A companion for the night?” She asked, waving an arm casually around the room.
Ed furrowed his brow before looking around. Various women, and a couple of men, sat with the other patrons, some more… touchy, than Ed would have thought permissible in a public setting. He could feel his cheeks reddening as a lithe Xingese man with short dark hair caught his eye and winked at him.
“Ah, no. The whiskey is fine.” His eyes shot back down to his drink. He was already here, might as well finish his drink.
He stared at his drink for a while, alone in his thoughts.
“Fullmetal.” A deep voice startled him from behind. “I would not have expected to find you in a brothel.”
Ed choked for a moment before turning, “Patronizing a brothel is exactly where I would have expected to find you, General Bastard.”
Mustang chuckled before sitting down next to him. He lifted a finger at the bartender, who nodded and began fixing him a drink.
“This is actually my aunt’s place,” he said, nodding towards the woman who handed him his drink. She quirked a smile and winked at him before moving onto other customers.
“So what brings you here? I thought you and Alphonse were in Xing?”
“I was.” Ed chewed his lower lip for a moment. He downed his whiskey and signaled to Madam Christmas for another. “I left him there. I felt like I was holding him back, to be honest. I was… I’ve been…”
“Grieving?”
“Yeah. And not just… It’s been everything.” Ed faltered. He and Mustang had never been close beyond their professional relationship. They certainly never talked about feelings.
Whatever. If Mustang wants to hear how Ed’s fucked up his life, then that’s his fault.
“Winry and I split.”
“So I heard.” Mustang said simply. Nonjudgmentally. “It’s not unheard of, given the circumstances.”
“I couldn’t stay in the house. She wanted to go back to Rush Valley, and they offered to let me stay at the house in Resembool, but…”
“Too many memories.” Mustang finished, nodding.
“Yeah.” Ed confirmed before going silent. He swirled his drink in his glass for a few minutes; Roy sat next to him in companionable silence.
“It’s also just,” Ed broke the silence, waving a hand. “Everything. I accomplished everything I ever wanted. Now I don’t have anything. I… I don’t sleep well anymore.” He admitted. Two drinks in and he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol. Given he was missing a substantial mass of his body he shouldn’t be surprised, but he also suspected Madam Christmas was giving him some of her stronger stuff. At least it was whiskey and not vodka from Drachma. He’d heard that could take the paint off a car. He caught Madam Christmas’ attention and she slid him a third, eyeing Roy before she turned back around.
Mustang looked at Ed. “Most soldiers don’t realize the effects the wars they’ve fought in have on them until after it’s all over. Until they’re home, in the supermarket or with their spouse or otherwise trying to settle into a normal life. Where there’s no missions, no constant life or death struggles.”
“I wasn’t a typical soldier. I never went through what you or Hawkeye did.” Ed mumbled.
Mustang stared at him for several moments before he took a swig of his own drink, making a face before putting it back down.
“Ugh, she knows I hate that stuff,” he muttered. He wiped his mouth. “Anyway, don’t minimize what you’ve gone through. You still fought a hefty war and suffered severe injury and losses. Your body remembers the trauma. And even aside from everything that led up to *that day*, you’ve been in fight or flight mode since you were a small kid, Edward. You can’t expect to settle in smoothly with civilians who haven’t experienced a fraction of the losses you have. Not without help.”
“Yeah well, that’s dumb. The fight is over. I just never planned for what Al and I would do after we got our bodies back. We always used to joke that one of us would marry Winry and settle down, but I-” he choked. “Fucked that one all up.”
Roy made to say something but cut himself off, shaking his head. “You’re only what, nineteen? You’ve got more years ahead of you. There are more girls out there. Not every relationship is meant for forever.”
“Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in February.” Roy noted that Ed chose to blatantly ignore the rest of his statement, but chose not to call him out on it.
They sat in silence once more as Ed finished his drink. His thoughts were scattered and his head felt fuzzy. “Winry was the only girl I ever liked, you know.”
“Hm.” Mustang made a noncommittal sound. He cocked his head as he caught golden eyes staring at him intently. Then Ed seemed to catch himself and shook his head.
“I should… I should get going.”
“You okay, Fullmetal?” Roy asked, somewhat alarmed as Ed stood unsteadily. “Where are you staying? I can get you a ride.”
“I’m fine. Nowhere. I don’t know.” Ed hadn’t thought that far ahead. He was not expecting those drinks to be that strong. He also hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous day; skipping meals was becoming a more frequent practice for him. His appetite hadn’t been what it once was, and with everything else bothering him, eating just didn’t seem as important. Neither had finding a place to spend the night,
He was regretting that as he stumbled. He could feel eyes on him from around the bar. Fucking shit.
“You can crash in my spare room.” Mustang said. He tossed several bills and coins on the counter and waved to his aunt as he caught Ed before he stumbled again.
“You can let go of me. I’ve got two legs, I can walk on my own.”
“Not very well, apparently.” Roy quipped, but let go of Ed nonetheless as they stepped outside into the chilled night air, made worse by a slight drizzle. He decided to assume that Ed not outright declining his offer meant that he was okay to hail a cab for the two of them and did just that. He took out an umbrella and held it above himself and Ed. A gust of chilled wind bit through them and Ed winced and rubbed his left thigh.
“Ugh. Cold rain makes the ports hurt worse after spending so much time in the desert.” He mumbled, slurring his words slightly.
“Well,” Roy began as a car slowed to a stop in front of them. He opened the back door and Ed slid inside. Roy followed. “I've got a hot shower and some pain killers at the house if that would help.”
“Yeah, probably.” Ed leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. From the travel, the alcohol, his mental state, or all three, he couldn’t pinpoint which was worse.
When he opened his eyes again, the car was coming to a stop. He was propped up against something warm and solid. He opened his eyes and found his head on Mustang’s chest, Mustang's arm around his shoulders. Mustang wasn’t looking at him and was instead looking out the car window where the rain was pouring outside.
He must have noticed Ed’s stiffening posture, because Mustang turned to him and said simply, “You fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you. We’re here.”
Ed flung himself to the opposite end of the car, cheeks reddening. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Ed couldn’t read Mustang’s expression. “It’s fine. Let’s get inside.”
They hurried into Mustang’s apartment building, Ed’s steps faltering as his head spun.
Once inside, Mustang ushered him into a pristine bedroom. “Here’s the guest room. Why don’t you get some rest. I’ll be right down the hall. I’ll try not to wake you when I get ready for work.”
Ed stumbled again and he felt Mustang reach out and grab him, wrapping his arms around him to prevent him from hitting the floor. Strong arms all but carried him over to the bed, and as he was laid down, Ed was struck by an impulse as faint memories of teenaged fantasies flashed through his mind…
And never being one to not give into his impulses, especially while intoxicated, Ed took his chance.
He reached out a hand behind Mustang’s head, brought his own up, and kissed him.
He felt Mustang freeze. His own mind froze as he realized what he had done. And then… Mustang kissed him back…
Ed woke up the next morning on top of the guest bed, fully clothed im his rain soaked clothing, with a killer headache and his insides churning. He groaned as he opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was kissing Mustang and oh God- he bolted upright and a wave of anxiety and nausea rolled through him. He kissed Mustang.
He looked around the room. On the bedside table was a large glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, and a note.
Edward,
Nothing further happened between us. You were too intoxicated to consent to anything. If you wish to talk, I will be home early around 1400. You may stay as long as you like. Help yourself to anything in the cupboards or fridge.
Roy.
Shit, Ed thought to himself. What had he done?