Ed.

Ed woke up wondering why his pillow was such a strange shape.

Waking further up, however, he remembered where he had spent the night and why, and opened his eyes to stare at the expanse of Roy’s chest in front of his nose. Finally stirring, he raised his head to find Roy already awake and watching him. As Ed did nothing but blink at him, a smile tugged at Roy’s mouth.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever rendered anyone speechless for quite this long,” he commented.

Ed opened his mouth, closed it, and let his head fall back down, onto the real pillow this time. “It’s just kind of… hard to believe this is real,” he said at last.

Roy laughed, low in his throat, and leaned over Ed. “Shall I convince you it is?” he teased, running a finger down the center of Ed’s chest.

Ed glanced aside, afraid he was blushing. “Would you think it was really silly if I said yes?” he asked softly.

“Not at all,” Roy murmured in his ear before nibbling on it.

Ed sighed as Roy’s lips traced the line of his throat, and let his eyes fall closed again.

Roy.

“Coffee?” Roy offered as Ed came into the kitchen.

“Thanks.” Ed sipped and paused in the act of sitting down at the table. He eyed the mug and then Roy. “You make the coffee at the office, don’t you?” he asked, faintly accusing.

Roy sighed dramatically. “Ah, one of my darkest secrets, revealed! Yes, in fact I do. Hawkeye prefers tea, and no one else can make coffee that doesn’t taste acidic.”

Ed smiled into his mug and settled onto the chair, one leg drawn up under him. Roy contemplated his body language and hid a smile of his own. He was unexpectedly charmed this morning. He had never, in all the time he’d known Ed, seen him act shy. Even last night. He’d been hesitant at times, yes, but this morning he was acting downright bashful. Accepting a towel for his shower, a cup of coffee, it seemed to be these small things rather than actually going to bed with Roy that made Edward unsure.

Of course, Roy reflected, if he had stayed the night at Ed’s house instead of the other way around it would certainly have taken all the face he could muster to stroll blithely down to breakfast in the morning. Not least because Ed’s extremely protective brother and near-sister would likely have colluded to draw and quarter him.

Speaking of which…

Roy came to lean against the table. “Edward?”

Gold eyes looked quickly up at him.

“Does your family know where you are? Or, more precisely, what you’re doing here?”

Ed’s expression shifted to one of affectionate exasperation. “No and not exactly,” he answered. “I think Winry might have guessed, but I haven’t told them…” he broke off, and looked down again.

“That you planned to seduce me?” Roy supplied, wryly.

After a moment of blank silence Ed folded up on the table laughing until he was breathless. “Can you imagine,” he gasped, “their expressions,” another gasp, “at the very idea…”

Roy had to laugh himself at the image.

Ed.

“Nii-san… you… he… you…” Al sat down rather abruptly on the couch.

Ed rubbed a hand over his forehead.

Roy had seen him off, with a light kiss, before leaving for headquarters, and Ed had made his way home torn between contentment and anxiety. One of the causes of anxiety was the question of how Al and Winry, who each had their own reasons for not entirely liking Roy, would react to the news that Ed was sleeping with him.

So far, Al was stunned and Winry was quiet.

Winry sat and took one of Al’s hands without taking her eyes off Ed. “Why?” she asked.

Ed was silent for a long time trying to organize dozens of half-thoughts into a reasonable response. “Because being with him makes me feel like I’m more alive,” he said at last.

“You’re happy with him?” Al pressed.

Ed threw himself back in his armchair and stared at the ceiling.

“Happy,” he agreed. “And infuriated. And like I want to protect him. And like I want to spend a week arguing theory with him. And scared. And like I can lean on him. And he’ll hold me up.”

Al and Winry had both softened somewhat during this recitation. Ed had a sudden urge to add And like I want to run my hands over every inch of his skin and let him kiss me senseless, but stepped on it.

Clearly, Roy was rubbing off on him.

Winry looked at Al, who was looking at Ed with a reluctant smile, and nodded briskly. “Right. Just as long as he understands that if he hurts you I’m going to disassemble him, flame or no flame.”

Ed grinned for the first time since he’d gotten back. “I’ll be sure to pass that on.”

Roy.

Hughes, stopping by Roy’s office, took one look at him and burst out laughing.

“You did it! Didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Do I have it printed on my forehead or something?” Roy wanted to know, irritably. “Hawkeye asked me if my evening went well, and she almost smirked.”

“Just about.” Hughes leaned on his desk, chuckling. “You have that extra smug glow that says what happened, and an underlying hint of panic that tells the informed who it happened with.”

“Panic?” Roy asked frostily.

“Quite justified, of course,” Hughes breezed on. “It’s been a long time since you had a serious lover instead of an affair.”

“You should know,” Roy grumbled.

“Yes, I should.” Maas looked sidelong at him with a crooked smile. “And that’s why I can tell that this is serious. So be careful with yourself, Roy. I know how deeply you can dig yourself in.”

Roy set a hand over Maas’ to make his friend look at him straight on. “Do you think there’s some reason I shouldn’t?” he asked quietly.

“Oh, no. In fact I think this is just about the best thing that could happen to both of you. But he’s still young, Roy. It might take time before he’s ready to settle down, even if he spends all that time with you.”

Maas turned his hand over and gripped Roy’s tightly. Roy looked up at him, warmed by the concern in those hazel eyes.

“Thank you, Maas.”

Ed.

“Shousho?” Ed tapped on the office door.

Roy turned away from the windows. “Come in, Edward-kun.”

Ed entered and hesitated just inside the door. The sunlight falling across Roy made him glow and picked out the elegance of his bones. Ed wanted very much to touch him, but reminded himself that they were at work and should be reasonably discreet…

Roy smiled and held out his hand.

Well, never mind, then.

Ed came to him and settled against him with a sigh, resting his head on Roy’s shoulder. Roy stroked the nape of his neck with soothing fingers.

“Is everything all right, Ed?” he asked eventually.

“Yeah. It’s just… I didn’t think it would be so different. After.” And, much lower, “I want to touch…”

“It’s usual with new lovers,” Roy reassured him, smoothing his hair. “It gets less intense after a while.”

“How much of a while?”

“It varies,” Roy said thoughtfully. “With Ariana it lasted about four days. Hughes and Gracia were mutually entranced for nearly two years.”

Ed lifted his head and stared, eyes wide. “Two years? How did they manage for two years like this? It’s incredibly distracting!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Roy purred.

He traced his fingertips over Ed’s face and then down his neck. Ed drew in an uneven breath.

“Especially when you do that,” he whispered.

“Do you want me to stop?” Roy asked just as softly.

“Hell no.”

He met Roy’s kiss open mouthed, let Roy’s tongue twine around his and draw out his breath. Roy leaned back against his desk and pulled Ed between his legs to lean against him. Ed wound his arms comfortably around Roy’s shoulders, pleased with the solidity of Roy’s body supporting his.

“Are there any rules against this kind of thing?” he asked, struck by a sudden thought.

“Specifically or generally?” Roy inquired.

Ed glared. “Be difficult for the fun of it later; answer my question now.”

Roy smirked. “Being a civilian, most of the military regulations don’t apply to you. A liaison between a civilian State Alchemist and his military commander is not specifically forbidden. It would probably be wise to be discreet, though.”

“Thought so,” Ed sighed.

A gleam entered Roy’s eye. He bent his head and Ed felt teeth close on his throat. His body snapped taut as those teeth nipped a path up to his ear.

“So,” Roy breathed, “is it later?”

Roy.

“What are these?”

Roy looked around to where Edward was holding out the sleeve of a burgundy suit-jacket.

After two weeks, during which Ed had spent over half his nights with Roy, Ed had gotten tired of not having clean clothes in the morning and asked a bit diffidently whether Roy would mind if he kept a change tucked in a drawer somewhere. Familiar with this particular annoyance, Roy had cleared out several drawers and a section of the wardrobe, and invited Ed to fill up as much of the space as he liked.

He had yet to resolve the matter of Edward stealing his bathrobe in the mornings, but one problem at a time.

They were now putting things away, and Ed was discovering that Roy did, in fact, own more than uniforms.

“Well, that one in particular is what I wear when Hughes insists on hauling me along to a concert.”

“And the black suit?” Ed wanted to know.

Roy sighed, and came to kneel on the floor behind Ed with an arm around his waist. “The black is for funerals, the green shirt is for going out in the summer, this” he plucked at a brilliant scarlet sleeve, “is for being obtrusive…” He paged through his clothes, naming them as he went, ending with a stack of blue cotton pants and white shirts. “…and those are for just wearing. Satisfied?”

Ed was quiet for a bit, contemplating the clothes as if they were some new diagram. “Costumes.” He looked over his shoulder at Roy. “Except for those last. They’re costumes aren’t they?”

Roy was taken aback for a moment, until he remembered exactly who he was speaking to. This was the person he had taught to see these things, not infrequently using himself as an example. He rested his chin on Ed’s shoulder, reflecting on the pitfalls of habit. The physical intimacy was easy enough, but he kept forgetting that it was paired with a much deeper intimacy this time.

Ed, probably sensing his mood, half turned in his hold to snuggle against his chest.

Roy was discovering that, despite his standoffishness with just about everyone, Edward was actually an extremely tactile person with those few he trusted. Roy still had to conceal his crogglement that he was, apparently, someone Ed trusted.

Ed seemed to decide Roy was still thinking too much, because he shoved against him, tumbling them both over onto the floor. He planted an elbow on either side of Roy’s head and propped his chin on his hands, grinning down.

“So you’ve caught me, have you?” Roy asked, amused.

“Pretty sure, yeah.” If Ed’s voice had been a little lighter and his eyes hadn’t become shuttered, it would have been a joke, and likely led to a wrestling match that Roy would have lost until he managed to… distract Ed. But it wasn’t quite.

Roy thought it might be a question.

Had Edward caught him? Well, yes, Roy didn’t usually sprawl on the floor with casual friends lying on top of him. Roy supposed the real question was how thoroughly Ed had caught him.

How thoroughly did he want to?

“Come here,” he whispered.

Ed let himself slide the rest of the way down, laying his head on Roy’s shoulder. Roy stroked his hair aside, arranging the long tail of it in an aesthetic curve on the floor, and ran a hand gently up and down Edward’s back. Ed relaxed against him, fitting his body more comfortably to Roy’s.

It took a while for Roy to really notice that Ed was still making tiny movements, and a little longer to realize that Ed was adjusting himself in relation to Roy’s hand on his back.

Hm.

Roy slid his hand under Ed’s shirt and scratched between his shoulderblades. Ed made a small happy noise and arched up a bit. That was definitely it. Roy obligingly continued scratching. Ed squirmed against him.

“Mmm. To the right… little further… down some. Oo, there. Ah. Mmmmm.”

Roy couldn’t contain his chuckles as Ed collapsed bonelessly over him, making little humming sounds in his ear, as close as a human could come to purring.

Edward, he reflected, might just be able to capture him completely.

TBC

The coffee in particular, and in fact significant parts of this whole arc, are largely thanks to Sleeps with Coyotes’ influence. She keeps writing stories that raise questions that won’t leave me alone, not to mention images that sneak into my own stories when my back is turned.