|Production #3495, [FMA]: "Forever Hold Your Peace" (Roy/Ed)
||[Sep. 20th, 2005|10:11 am]
The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword
|||||"Asato Tsuzuki" from the Yami no Matsuei OST||]|
It's TMI, I know, but yesterday my period started up and I don't very much feel like writing porn. So, er, your porn will have to wait, f-list? O.o
Also, because today is stickmarionette's birthday, I celebrate it by writing a request fic for her. ^____^ (Sorry for all the other b-day fics I'm behind on! I WILL GET THEM DONE SOMEDAY, I SWEAR.)
[EDIT]: Okay, when I started this, it WAS stickmarionette's birthday. Clearly, I fail at all.
Title: Forever Hold Your Peace
who is fucking drained from her own fic contest
Rating: Er. Somewhere between PG-13 and R. Depends on how you rate allusions to sex. XD;;
Genre: ANGST. I'm not in a very good mood today, so expect this to be pretty depressing, but not.........mindfucky. Just kind of sad?
You know, a normal day in Demi Land.
Pairing: Roy/Ed, but there's also that teensy-weensy issue of the two of them commiting adultery, which is of course what stickmarionette requested for this. ^___^ Jenn did something like it not long ago, and honestly, hers is probably better. *dies*
Summary: All things considered, Mei was the perfect wife.
For: stickmarionette, wishing you a happy 19th birthday!!! ^____^ I hope you spend it well, Stick, and I love you muchly. You're completely a brilliant writer, and your in-depth observations and analyzations of Ed's persona are a totally refreshing variant from the norm. ♥
Comments: For some reason, I felt the urge to switch points-of-view on this. Hopefully, it won't be wonky. O.o I find that this story works better when..............the points-of-view aren't kept depressingly limited to just one person. Also, warnings for...er, adultery and an original character? It's a little hard to explain. YES, "Mei" is Mei from the FMA manga, but I've totally screwed with her age and her temperament, so just pretend it's someone different? XD;; Other than that, I've got nothing. Warui na, minna-san.
Music: It doesn't really fit the theme of this piece or anything, but "Surreal" by Ayumi Hamasaki is a nice song. Download it, and love. ♥
Word count: 7,025. OMGWTF.
i.) we are gathered here today
All things considered, Mei was the perfect wife. On every scope of the goddamned mortal plane, she was the perfect wife.
She complimented him perfectly, in complexion and coloring; all pale white skin permanantly clouded by sleek black hair, an inexplicable fire shining out of midnight eyes, with a slender nose and elegant eyebrows, with even white teeth filling a voluptuous mouth. Her smile was most dazzling, just like his, filled in it's own way with an irresistible charm, and it was probably that which had drawn him in in the first place.
In temperament, she was the replication of the most ideal woman he could have ever wanted, yet she embodied the opposite of just what it was he didn't need, such as a foul temper or a smoking habit. She kept him fed, and washed his clothes, but was a smart enough woman in her own right to provide him with an internal challenge, a sharp mind and a blazing wit, but possessing the good nature and common sense to know just when to let him win at his own game. Not boring, but not bombastic, either; she was a perfect match.
For a fact, Mei was probably too goddamned perfect for him. She would make too good of a wife.
Roy sighed, and fought to keep his face appropriately congenial as he escorted the ecstatic bride down the aisle (her family was dead, killed in some war or another, and therefore, he'd had to suffice), and commended himself on only tugging on his collar once, instead of, say, ripping off his tie and bolting entirely from the ceremony. He hated weddings, and his own would more than likely be no exception.
At the altar, he let go of his companion's arm, and practically dove towards the other members of the wedding party, relievedly taking his place in line with the rest of them. Mei stumbled a bit on her train, and Edward - looking every inch of the polished groom in his crisp black tuxedo, hair pulled back in a high ponytail - leaned forward and caught his bride by the arm, whispering something into her ear that made her giggle, and made the two of them blush.
"We are gathered here today..." intoned the priest monotonously, and without care.
ii.) do you take this man...?
Most people liked to assume that he casually teased and tumbled, but Roy Mustang was not the sort of man to forget a first sexual encounter, especially not one that was so...anticlimatically endearing.
In honestly, he had never expected himself and Edward to even fall together at all, let alone into the same bed, and when he thought about it in hindsight, he was downright startled at the hesitantly nonviolent way their situation had came to be about. He should have expected a cosmic brawl, or a furious seduction that would have been something more like rape than romance, however, since he had not been expecting it at all, it was a...curious, if not pleasant, shock of surprise when the blonde had finally slept, quiet and willing, in his arms.
Ironically, the first time that the two of them had bed together, they had not had sex at all.
It had happened on a day when Edward had come down with a particularly nasty strain of the flu, and was lying, miserable and prone, on the bed in his dorm, groaning loudly for his plea for mercy to be granted with a convenient gunshot wound to the head, or a knife blade to the heart. His brother, all hulking and harried metal flitting from corner to corner, had answered the door with such a profound expression of relief on his face (that should have been impossible, but he managed it, somehow) that it was almost terrifying.
And so for a while, Roy had sat, listened to Edward gulp down the soup that Lieutenant Hawkeye had ordered him to bring with a childish abandon and complain about a million-and-one other things, all the while forcing a smirk onto his face, and then held the blonde's hair back from his face and rubbed his back as he threw it all back up not fifteen minutes later. For a long time after that, the older man simply sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed one of his hands up and down Edward's right calf in what he supposed was a comforting measure.
Imagine his surprise when the boy had suddenly got an impressive erection some ten minutes later. That had probably been the most awkward moment of his - no, their - entire lives.
Edward, predictably, had started to throw things at the older man and curse profusely in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment with anger, but the fact that he was too weak to even hoist up the alarm clock for projecting and the fact that his voice was just too hoarse to escalate to a proper shout greatly diminished the effect, and his tirade was easily shut up with a light kiss. Not on the lips or anything, because that would have been a bit more than either of them could have handled at the moment, but a gentle brush of warm, dry lips to a sweaty forehead.
The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but at least it was silence. After a time, Edward calmed considerably and shifted to the other side of the bed, eyes pathetically hopeful and inviting through his act of nonchalance, and against his better judgement, Roy swung his legs up onto the bed and sat there somewhat stiffly, back pressed up against the headboard.
It wasn't until Alphonse had come in, seen that the two of them weren't going to kill each other in his absence, and declared that he was going to the pharmacy for some medicine, that Roy finally relaxed, felt the tension go out of his frame, and slid the rest of the way down onto the bed.
As soon as he was lying there, slightly uncomfortable yet prone, Edward was all over him, all hungry lips and too-hot hands, feverish in both his illness and his desire. It wasn't the best situation, it wasn't the most comfortable situation in the world, but the older alchemist was willing to let it go; that is, until Edward had drawn back suddenly, hitched in a breath...and sneezed all over his goddamned face. Irritated, Roy had grabbed at the boy's wrists and held him pinned to his chest until he could wipe his face clean, and when he was done all of that, he was downright startled to see that watery eyes had sank closed, and that a red and heaving chest had finally slowed to an even rhythm; Edward was asleep.
So on the first night, they had lain there, and after Alphonse had returned from the pharmacy and said nothing displeasing on the subject of the two of them lying there together, Roy had finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
iii.) in sickness and in health
Edward growled up at him, all flushed cheeks and a runny nose, ripping at the gilded buttons on the military uniform and cursing their existence with every ounce of his being as Roy smiled down at him, and wiped the boy's nose with his sleeve. A strange creature, that one was. He initiated their liasons only out of an urge to stifle his discomfort, out of the desire to keep his embarrassment from showing on his face.
"Hurry up," the blonde hissed, wriggling beneath the other man impatiently, "my brother'll be back soon." It was the first time the request had been barked from out behind those bloodless lips and gnashing teeth, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. And for reasons that even he wasn't aware of, Roy acquiesced every time.
They exchanged bodily fluids and, as Roy discovered despairingly some two days later, that damnable illness, as well.
iv.) lawfully wedded husband
There were many things that Edward Elric would - if not gladly, than at least uncomplainingly - do for love, and getting married in a church was one of them.
He had first met Mei some time in... - where was it again? Aquaroya? Dublith? Shit, he couldn't even remember... - his twentieth year, after all of the mess from his "revival" had died down a bit, and he was able to freely walk through the towns again without hushed whispers following his back about "the saintly and superhuman Fullmetal Alchemist", and when he was having lunch at a cafe on the seaside she had accosted him, and seemed in awe of the fact that he was, as she had put it, "so very tall".
She was a waitress from Xing, of course, which explained the fact that her head only came up to his shoulder, but it hadn't diminished his elation in the slightest, and before he had even known what he was doing, he had arranged to have lunch again the next day, or her same waitressing shift, and they had sat for hours and talked about this and that; cultural differences, really, and she was a sweet and smart and honest girl. Dangerous, he had found out, as a slip of his tongue had ended up with himself pinned to the wall by these strange metal stars she had called "shuriken", but not necessarily prone to violence (like most of the other women in his life, he noted somewhat ruefully). An all-around nice girl. Completely opposite from the sort of partner he had always envisioned himself marrying, but then again, he hadn't necessarily imagined himself ever getting married, either.
She was absolutely perfect. He loved her, and his life was finally something happy, instead of a brilliant definition of the phrase "living hell".
The only problem was...
"...if anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be wed," the minister was saying, old and tired and faintly disapproving, "speak now, or forever hold your peace."
...she looked exactly like him. All dark hair and dark eyes and that infinitely goddamned smile.
Ed swallowed and balled his hands into fists when Mustang, seated in the first pew with the other members of the wedding line, opened his mouth - but the man only coughed, resumed staring at him blankly, and said nothing.
But oh, how Edward had wanted him to.
v.) to have and to hold
His affair with the man had been hard and fast and satisfying, all teasing smirks and torturous desire, but it had left him feeling curiously empty inside, as though their entire partnership was devoid of any meaning, and on the other side of the Gate, where girls giggled over his golden hair and pouty lips, he had inadvertantly discovered that he wasn't as adverse to women as he had originally thought himself to be. They were soft, and sensual, and terribly devoted to him in a way that the colonel had never been - (gave him everything he wanted, while giving him nothing at all) - and he had found that, through his newfound aquisition of confidence in social and sexual situations, that when he returned to Amestris, he simply wasn't...interested, really, in starting up his affair with the colonel ever again.
And the man had understood, had shrugged it off with the same infuriating unaffectedness as he did everything, and nothing more was said on the subject. He continued his boring desk jobs with the military, and Ed went about his almighty quest of traveling the world, of seeing it from a different light than just a place where he might have found a cure for his brother's condition.
So he had been a bit surprised when Mustang had gaped at him, ungracefully, and gripped his shot glass hard enough to break when he had cornered the man in the bar, and handed him an invitation to his wedding.
"It's...unusual, that's all," the colonel had said, finally, and accepted the envelope with his annoyingly omnipresent social grace. "For you to have snared such an excellent beauty without strolling to my office smugly to tell me about it - she must truly be a godsend, for being able to weather through you." His words were ironic and dry, and Ed grumbled at him, something to the effect of "certain bastards need to keep their egos fed with a daily dosage of dates", but his heart hadn't been in it.
He had been too busy tracking the lines of that achingly familiar body through that intricately damnable uniform with his desperate and unsatisfied eyes.
vi.) to love her, and keep her
The weather was perfect. The ceremony was going off without a hitch. There was not, fundamentally, a single cataclysmic event in existence to disrupt his wedding, to convince his young bride that the entire ordeal was a terrible idea, and to perhaps reconsider their gloriously beautiful future.
"Do you, Edward," the priest began, fixing him with a benevolent and all-knowing countenance that made the blonde grimace inadvertantly and inwardly scorn the existence of God, "take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife, to love her and keep her, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, through good times and bad, for as long as you both shall live?"
"You know, Fullmetal," Roy had all but purred, stretched out beside him in lazy contentment and as naked as the day he'd been born, "there are tons of women in this world. There are the loud ones, and the quiet ones - the ones who'll serve you and the ones who'll demand the world from you on a silver spoon...there are some who make great lovers, and others who are too shy in bed to be of any good, really." He curled his toes in the sheets, and began scratching his stomach idly, the perfect portrait of the satisfied tom, and Ed could only watch him, captivated by the motion.
"What's the point of this, you shit?" he growled, finally, annoyed at the man's teasing, annoyed by the fact that the bastard was, yet again, ruining their few moments of quiet satiation with his godforsaken mouth.
The colonel's look turned a bit more contemplative, soft around the edges, and against his will, Ed leaned in a bit closer to hear what the man had to say. "Somewhere out there," he explained, softly, and moved his hand from his stomach to scritch affectionately at the top of a blonde head, instead, "there is the perfect woman for you, made seemingly for your completion's sake. And somewhere out there, there's a woman who sees you in the same light, and when you finally do meet, you won't know happiness or contentment unless the two of you are together. The term 'soul mates' is over-used and cliche, and honestly, one could even argue that you and your brother are 'soul mates', for all you've been through, but..." His other arm rose up to fling itself over his eyes, obscuring their dark depths from view. "...somewhere, out there, there will be a person who will be completely and utterly perfect for you."
Edward flushed, but didn't move, because honestly, he loved the feel of being scratched on his head. He never cared to admit it, and he hadn't, but it had been one of those strange idiosyncracies about him that the colonel had discovered before he himself had even known it had existed. He let out a breath. "Ha. And you think you're that person?"
And Roy had lifted his arm, and regardly him somberly, pathetically, with those slanted eyes of his. "...No. I was merely hoping..."
And suddenly, the man had sat up, and gathered the youth into his arms, an embrace that was gentle despite the rawness to his voice. "Please... Even if it condemns you to a life of dissatisfaction and discontent, please...don't leave me behind for that idealistic life. Not the way he did."
And while Ed had many strong guesses as to who 'he' was, he had never asked. He had been too busy being terrified of Mustang's baffling vulnerability.
"Will you give me your word?" the man had asked him then, low and ashamed.
"I do," Edward said aloud, and Mei beamed up at him, beautiful in her white gown that was modeled carefully after her native Xingian robes.
"And do you, Mei, take this man to be your lawfully-wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, through good times and through bad, for as long as you both shall live?"
His bride's response was instant. "I do."
"Then by the power invested in me by God and the nation of Amestris," the minister finished at last, and seemed relieved for the ceremony to be over, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
"You may kiss the bride."
Soft lips on his own, fluttering and shyly endearing; Mei's crimson cheeks in his line of sight. Edward kept his eyes open, watching the witnesses stand and applaud, his brother nearly breaking down in tears, grin threatening to encompass his entire face.
Mustang didn't move from his seat, and nor did he applaud.
vii.) for as long as you both shall live
Roy listened with half an ear to Alphonse's glowing and heartfelt speech delivered at the reception, and idly noted that many of the wedding spectators weren't friends or family, but rather, fans of the Fullmetal Alchemist, and the occasional acquaintance of the bride (most of Mei's immediate family was dead, or unable to travel to Amestris from Xing). He sat at a table with Hawkeye, of course, now promoted to a Captain, and the other members of his staff as well, but he was still uncomfortable with the situation, still didn't want to be there, but knew it was rude and somewhat inexplicable for him to suddenly get up and leave without causing some sort of suspicion.
At the drinks table, Roy took another glass of wine, and when he turned around to return to his seat, he nearly spilled the entirety of it's contents all over Edward, who was standing behind him with an uncertain look on his face, hand poised as if ready to tap on the older man's shoulder.
"Ah!" he said, startled and too-loud, and took a step back. "C-Colonel."
Roy arched his brow; transferred his glass to his other hand in a show of elegance, smile congenial yet flat. "Yes?"
Edward's face reddened, and he averted his eyes to the roof of the tent that they had set up for the reception. "Are you...? I mean, I - I hope you're...enjoying yourself..."
Roy, irritated and uncomfortable beyond all measure, said nothing. The fact didn't seem to stop his subordinate's babbling mouth in the slightest, however.
"E-Er, th-that is... Listen, don't...don't go anywhere, okay? M-Mei wants to meet you, and f-for some...some reason...people s-seem to think that..." His next words were almost inaudible: "...you're the father of the bride..."
By then, the older man had heard enough. He set his glass down on the table and was preparing to make his graceful - if not slightly hurried - exit, but fingers like steel (though not really steel, not anymore) curled around his forearm and didn't let go. "Please," Edward all but begged, some sort of unfathomable longing in his eyes, lips drawn back in a hunger that seemed to have nothing to do with desire, a veritable tempest of conflict written all over his face. "It means a lot to her - to us, and..."
It doesn't mean enough, Roy wanted to say, since you're marrying her, but he was silent, impassive, eyes cool and unflinching, which seemed to wound the frenzied blonde even more.
"Please, Colonel - don't go," was ripped past lips that were only characteristic in their anger or pride, and Roy was startled to hear it, startled to feel Edward take a step - a single, stumbling step - and fall into his chest, like the boy had done in his old days, shoulders shaking perceptibly. Several well-wishers regarded them curiously, and Roy plastered a grin on his face, petting Edward awkwardly on the head.
"Isn't that sweet?" one of the onlookers declared, causing a gust of laughter to explode around the room. "He's so happy he could cry."
Roy tightened his arms into a vise as, at those words, the young man began to shake even harder.
viii.) you may kiss the bride
"I have been wanting to meet you for a long time," Mei confessed, voice polite and lilting slightly with her eastern accent, as Roy whirled her about on the dance floor to an upbeat jazz number. (Not too quickly, no, because his peripheral vision was shot to hell and for all of his grudge against Edward, he didn't have any real reason to tip his bride into the punch bowl.) "Edward speaks of you often, but I must admit, I had been rather curious, since his brother and his friend Ms. Rockbell hardly seem inclined to speak of you at all."
Inwardly, Roy smirked grimly. Outwardly, he shrugged, and dipped the petite girl close to the floor, taking a perverse glee in making her dress fly up around her head. When she was righted, sleek braids bobbing back into place, he spoke. "Fullmetal - ah, Edward, that is - remembers me mostly in anger, but his brother and Ms. Rockbell hardly have a reason to remember me at all - fondly, that is. For all of your husband's complaints against me, I'm sure he could find at least one good memory about me or two, but..." Here he tossed his head, the picture of casual elegance; "I'm not so sure about the other two."
Mei seemed confused at the fact, tilting her head and tripping a bit over her feet from dancing. "Is...Is that so? F-From the way Edward described you, you'd always stuck me as a very moral man. He would always tell me about you and your noble ideals. He said you were very good to him when he was a younger man."
'Younger man.' Roy wanted to scoff at the absurdity of it all. Edward still wasn't a man, was still a child playing hopelessly at the game of marriage, and it was goddamned ridiculous. Instead he smirked, cruelly, and bent down to kiss the somewhat bemused bride on the cheek.
As he broke away from her to end the dance, he whispered, from her cheek into her ear: "Be forewarned, Mrs. Elric. Just because I was good to Edward, didn't mean I was very good to everyone else."
ix.) why these two should not be wed
"Mr. Mustang was...very strange," Mei confessed to him on their drive to the lakeside bed and breakfast, cans transmuted to the back of their car clanging loudly and obnoxiously along the dirt road. They were alone in the car, gifts and well-wishes crammed into the trunk and backseat, their honeymoon stay at the lake a gift from the enigmatic bastard Mustang himself, which was just plain ironic and so goddamned fitting of the man that Edward wanted to bang his head into the steering wheel.
He didn't, though, because he was relatively new to the driving scene, and had no desire to cause an automobile pile-up on the day of his wedding. Instead his shifted his eyes, warily, to Mei in the other seat, and asked: "Is...that so? What... Did he say anything?"
"He seemed..." Mei, shoulders bare and creamy in her sleeveless traditional dress, shrugged. "Bitter, almost, that we were getting married." Her look at him was pleading: please, darling, tell me what's wrong, but the blonde let out a breath, and forced a grin.
"Ah, you wouldn't know, but the colonel's got real hang-ups about his age, you know? Ha, he's probably...probably just feeling kind of spiteful because he's tons of years older than me, and he still hasn't managed to find a woman who'll put up with his arrogant ass."
"Hmmm." Mei seemed to want to argue the subject, but the luxury lakeside hotel loomed into view, and her countenance went from anxious to excited in the blink of an eye. "Oh, we're here! The place looks lovely; I can't wait to see our rooms - !"
Her gaze caught Edward's, which had deepened considerably into something predatory, and her hair threatened to catch fire with the sheer heat from her blush. "N-Not like that," she protested, waving her delicate hands in front of her face, "I...I meant the view..."
"I think this is pretty fucking stupid," Ed grumbled, jamming his hands in his pockets and staring around the extravagant hotel room with slightly dubious eyes. "Sex in a hotel bed isn't any different from sex in a normal bed, you jackass, and it was more work to cover up my being here than it is work to cover up my being at your apartment."
"Entirely," Mustang had agreed, much to Ed's surprise, and had wrapped his arms around the blonde's wiry torso, breathing softly into burnished hair and walking the two of them towards the open door out onto the balcony of the suite. "The sex is the same - but ah, look at that view."
"I think the view is perfect from here," Edward replied, unabashedly and in adoration, and was rewarded with even more of Mei's strikingly beautiful blush.
It really wasn't her fault, after all, that he found himself wondering if that was what that same blush would look like on the colonel, too.
x.) in holy matrimony
Their wedding night was apocalyptically perfect, too, almost to the point of suspicion, even: the check-in was flawless, the hotel was a wonderful combination of exotic Xingian furniture and homey Amestrian architecture, and their suite was on the presently-vacant fourth floor, which meant that they could make as much...noise...as possible, without a fear of being heard. It was all eerily accurate, and Ed would have driven the half-an-hour back to Central City to demand to know from Mustang whether or not the man had planned it this way, but Mei's eyes fell upon his, all sparkling and bright with her desire - they didn't darken the way the other's did, when he was overtaken by lust - and he realized that he just plain didn't care anymore.
He was the epitome of the perfect theatrical husband: he carried her through the threshold of the door, set her down gently on the bed, and made love to her slowly, and multiple times, as though each time were their first yet again, memorizing the soft lines and curves of her body as though they were a map. He undid her braids, one by one, and her hand tugged the tie out of his hair with practiced care, all black gold and liquid in their lust, smooth and perfect. The pace was slow, agonizingly so, but the truth was, Ed went slowly because he loved her, and he wanted the moment to lay suspended there forever; his devoted wife lying there, forever in ecstasy in his arms - building, building -
And then Mei shuddered beneath him, letting out a breathy cry, narrow eyes fluttering shut to show off delicate eyelashes like ink smears across her cheeks, winged brows knotted in a pleasure that looked inexplicably like pain, and for a moment, Edward was lost in memory.
"You like that, eh?" he challenged, grinding his hips down, rocking viciously back and forth with each thrust, hair falling out of it's braid and obscuring his vision. "I told you, you shit, that you wouldn't regret letting me top - besides, I was p-pretty damn tired of a-always being b-bent over f-for y-you..." Speaking was steadily becoming an effort, and he leaned over to grab the headboard, using it for support as he thrust and thrust, searching for just the right leverage -
A throaty moan from beneath him let him know that he had hit the right spot, and he lowered his head for a moment to stare into those fiery midnight eyes, possessive in his desire to own, to make his through lust; he kept one hand on the headboard but snaked the other between the other man's legs to yank arrythmically at a hard and weeping cock.
"A-Ah, Fullmetal..." Mustang had said then, smiling through his sweat and though he looked strained, there was an undeniable softness to his eyes that made the blonde groan. "You really aren't half bad at this, I'll give you that - "
The rest of his speech was strangled as he threw back his head then, suddenly, and came.
"Who are you calling - ?!" Edward began, and latched his hand around the other's throat, however, before he had the chance to kill the infuriating bastard -
When the colonel's face, blurred by memory, was finally ousted and replaced with Mei's - sweaty and content - Ed finally managed to swallow the lump in his throat and relax. And it was only then that he was finally able to come, as well.
xi.) take this ring
He lay awake for a long time after that, listening to Mei's even breathing beside him, and wondered if that was how the colonel had spent his nights; drowned in silence, caught up in memory, watching a smaller form beside him cling to his chest in sleep, and Edward noted then, dismally, that he was probably going to be an unrepentant sinner when it came to the sanctity of marriage, as well.
Slipping out of Mei's tenuous grasp - she protested a little and made a small noise in her sleep, brows twisting - he sat on the edge of the bed and began to get dressed. He would beat the man's memory out of his mind with his fists, one way or another.
What he was going to do sickened him, to no small fraction, but at the same time, he felt a sort of grimness that he hadn't felt since he was a teenager, whirling around the world in search of that godforsaken Stone; that pressing determination to do, no matter what the consequences, but he didn't very much care for likening that bastard to something as important as a cure for his brother, and it was unnerving. Mei slept on beside him, and he found himself wondering if the other would sleep afterwards, as she did, or if he would lie awake, as he always did, a strange expression on his face as though he still were not satisfied; Edward buttoned his shirt, and cursed inaudibly as one of the buttons snagged on his wedding ring.
His wedding ring. He stared at it for a moment, the band as gold as the traditional Elric hair, simple and unadorned (he hadn't wanted a fancy ring, because that was both pompous and strangely feminine), an unbreakable bond formed by...by what, really? The church of a god he didn't even believe in? A representative of a state he had helped to overthrow? Mei knew alchemy, though it was called something else in her country, and she hardly used it. To repair otherwise unrepairable things, to aid in the care of the sick; Amestris, which utilized alchemists in it's impressive military force, had sickened and terrified her. Edward didn't even know how to explain to her that he had once served in that military...and that it had once been larger. Much larger, and governed by a monster.
There were some things, he decided as he set his wedding down gently atop the beside table and headed for the door, that his delicate and slightly delusional wife simply did not need to know.
xii.) i do
Roy was actually wide awake when Edward scaled the fire escape of his apartment and climbed through the window, dressed still in his rumpled groom's attire, hair tangled and falling around his face, expression distraught in a way that had nothing to do with the difficult climb. The older man feigned sleep, of course, but his breathing had sped up, and belied any hopes of appearing natural; Edward ran a hand through his hair and seemed immensely distracted, however, and therefore didn't notice. He sat down on the edge of the bed, mumbling something into one of his hands, other hand braced on the bedsheets, taut and unmoving.
Questions as to why he was there were entirely unnecessary. The blonde nodded once, firmly, and passed a hand over Roy's chest, drifting upwards to brush his bangs out of his face and push at his head, gently. Inadvertantly, Roy jerked and snapped open his eyes, and Edward pulled back, retreating again to his edge of the bed. For a moment there was silence, and Roy quickly dismissed the stupid idea of asking Edward why he was there - what was the point, when he already...?
"I know why you're here," he said quietly, patiently, and sat up onto his elbows. "I know why you're here, and no, I won't help you."
Edward gawked at him, ungracefully. Roy went on, pushing himself upwards to seat himself against the headboard, hands folded neatly in his lap. He felt like a teacher lecturing a disobedient pupil who could honestly have done better, or worse still, like a put-upon father lecturing a wayward son, and he shivered despite himself. No son would ever look at his father in the same manner that Edward was looking at him now.
"You'll want me to help you commit adultery," he clarified, voice even but eyes slightly baleful, nose a trifle up in the air in his best emulation of his old military pose, "and despite what frivolous sort of rumors you might have believed about me when you were younger, I can assure that never once have I bedded a married woman. Or a married man," he added at the end, to the younger alchemist's opening mouth, "and I have no intention of starting now. For what else do you think I denied myself the right of marriage? So that I would be free to love whomever I chose," and he enunciated the last bit especially clear, all the while staring into those pleading yellow eyes.
"That... That's not fair," Edward argued at last, face pale in the whitewashed light of the moon, hair a sweaty and knotted mess in a manner that was usually reserved for the hours after Roy had seen him, and it only served to steel the older man's resolve; you made this bed, Fullmetal, he thought, snidely.
"How is it not fair?" he asked aloud, mildly, shrugging with his palms out in a picture of elegance. "If you've suddenly developed a sexual stamina from the last time I was with you, then you should have married a partner who would be able to keep up."
"There's more to marriage than just...than just that," Edward hissed vehemently, but the wind was taken out of his sails as Roy replied, quietly:
"...Yes. Yes, there is. But all you had wanted from me, back then, was the sex."
There was a yawning chasm of silence for the next few infinitely terrible minutes. Roy never broke their silences, because he knew that eventually, inalterably, Edward would break them, normally because it was his turn to speak, his turn to attack or defend or drop the bomb, and today was no exception.
Oh, Edward broke the silence, all right, but he did not speak. He simply lunged forward, arms catching the older man's shoulders, lips finding the older man's face.
Not lips, but Roy's entire face; cheeks, chin, nose, frenzied kisses pressed everywhere, as though they were an apology, and the dark-haired man felt his resolve begin to waver.
Just what drives a man to commit adultery? he asked himself blindly as Edward pulled his legs out from under him and sent him tumbling back onto the mattress, Is is the exasperation of always possessing the familiar, the desire to try something new? Or is it the longing for the familiar, the urge to know if the one whom you had chose to marry was the right one, to know if a night with the one you had tossed away would ever be as satisfying as the one you had decided to keep?
Edward was still on top of him, blonde hair already tangled from a previous encounter of personal intimacy, and it was that hair that caught Roy's eyes, caused him to groan aloud from part-arousal, part-despair. He caught what used to be an automail shoulder, but was now nothing more than flesh, and rolled the blonde over, pinning that skinny form beneath him, eyes wild and chest heaving.
"If we are going to do this," he panted, slowly and deliberately, and watched Edward watch him, carefully yet desperately, "then we're going to do this my way."
"Your way," Edward repeated, and let out a breath. "Well, I suppose i-it's all right. You were a k-kinky bastard, b-but I'd always back out at the l-last minute... Y-Yeah, I guess it's f-fine..." His voice had taken on a miniscule trembling by the end, and he brought his hands up to his face; his wedding ring was gone, either back with his wife or lost to the streets, and inwardly, Roy sighed in relief, as well.
"Good," he said aloud, and lowered his head.
He kept the pace to that of about an oozing molasses; slow and even slightly sticky with his saliva, memorizing muscled skin with the palms of his hands, breathing in the scent of soap and sweat (and a slight flowery scent that he chose not to think about) from the edge of his nose - in his mind's eye he saw Edward, yet again, sneezing and shaking below him, nose dripping from his rather severe bout of flu, like he had been the first time.
"Hurry up," the blonde hissed below him, writhing and fidgety, buzzing like a live wire and making grabby hands towards a patch of black hair, but Roy easily evaded and shook his head.
"For years I've placated you with my lust," he told the young man seriously, visions dancing behind the darkened patch of his ruined eye, "so now I'm taking this moment to demonstrate to you my love."
It seemed to break something within Edward, who eyed him with growing horror before tossing his head back against the pillows with errant denial and frustration. And sometime later, around the middle, when he was brought to the brink and yanked back down again, all in the name of love; then, despairingly, the boy howled.
xiii.) a symbol of your lifelong love
"Why... Why would you do something like that, why?" Edward asked him repeatedly, hoarsely, the sweat running down his face like tears (or maybe they were real tears, who knew?). "You - You fucking tease; th-that's not love, that's d-death by torture, you sh-shit, and - "
Roy shut him up with a kiss, eyes cruelly smug. "That's the trouble with these messy little affairs, isn't it? It would be so much easier if they were all about sex, wouldn't they, as opposed to something so emotionally ensnaring as, say, love."
"I hate you," Edward swore, eyes serious. "It was a giant fucking mistake to come here - I'm going back to my wife, and fuck you."
"Not quite," the older man replied demurely, and gathered the flustered blonde into his arms. "There's one last thing you denied me when we were lovers - the ability to hold you while you slept, quietly, in my arms."
Edward clawed at the bedsheets, disgusted at himself but not necessarily fighting the motion (if he had honestly wanted to be free, he would have free), his hair almost unrecognizable in it's ultimate disarray. His former flowerly scent had been replaced with the smell of heady men's cologne, and Roy sighed in satisfaction. Good. Let him understand what it means to break that vow of marriage - he'll never be able to get the smell of my aftershave off of his skin, at least not in his head. Sometimes the lessons he learns are painful, but he'll be all right. He'll be a faithful husband, from now on - just like the other one was.
Edward relaxed beneath him, finally, and fell into a troubled sleep, mouth twitching, but Roy stayed awake - as he always, inalterably, did - and wondered, bitterly, just why he was always the one who was forced to steer the people he cared about down the moralistically ideal high road of fidelity.
Ah, well, he thought at last, and for a moment he allowed himself a darkly amused smile. Here's hoping he won't develop a penchant for compulsive photography like he did.
xiv.) i now pronounce you husband and wife
"If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you're dead," Edward whispered into his ear as he left, sliding out of the bedcovers in the light of the growing dawn, face repulsed but determined as he put on his clothes, prepared to return to that lakeside hotel and put that simple gold band back on his third left finger, and perhaps start to cook his inquirious bride some breakfast.
"I slept on my hair kind of weird," he will tell her in the morning, "so it's all messed up. Yeah, I bought some new cologne - funny story, though, I accidentally spilled it all down the sink as I was putting it on, so I threw it out. Don't worry, Mei - everything's fine."
And who knew? Maybe it would be.
Roy fluttered his eyes open and smiled up at Edward enigmatically, wondering drearily who would be there for him when he displayed a case of the post-wedding jitters, but he let his affection show in his eyes.
Silently, he mimicked locking up his lips and throwing away the key.
Author's Notes Upon Completion: Eh? WATCH A MILLION OTHER PAIRING HINTS GET THROWN IN HERE, TOO. *dies* Anyway...I dunno. This is really fucking long. It makes me want to kill myself. Happy birthday, Stick! *kills self*