scriveyner: (Ed/Roy - Smut)
[personal profile] scriveyner
Title: Undimmed by Time
Rating: Mature
Warning: Post-series, CoS fix-it fic
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Word Count: 2415
Characters/Pairings: Roy Mustang/Edward Elric

Summary: Edward grinned at him, shuffled a moment and said, “Sorry I've been so long.”



Edward Elric limped back into Roy Mustang's life bruised, bloody and grinning like a madman. Alphonse was supporting his left side, the automail had apparently gone sideways on him, otherwise Roy had the distinct impression that Edward would have jumped him right then and there, in the middle of the debris and with half the military watching. Alphonse made the executive decision to release his brother, and Edward pitched forward – Roy on instinct caught him, and Edward grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

“I came back,” Edward said, sounding amazed that he had made it. Roy could laugh, if he wasn't too busy kissing Edward right back. They shouldn't be doing this, but they are. The adrenaline, he'll say later. Right now – Edward.

They did not have a lot of time together, at first. Edward had to be debriefed – his automail, while expertly fitted, was still done in haste and he managed to completely destroy the inner balancing mechanisms of his leg less than two hours later. There was clean-up work to be done – but to see Edward sitting there on the cot in the makeshift medic's station, arguing with a dirt-covered nurse and thronged by the members of Roy's old garrison acting as a protective barrier between him and Alex – Roy couldn't help but grin. For the first time in two years he felt alive again.

It would be almost six months before he had the time to step away, to breathe and think. The world had resolved itself and settled into some modicum of normalcy. The Elrics had escaped the city months ago – helped in no small part by the members of Roy's old command. Technically Edward was under court-martial for going AWOL in a time of crisis; oddly enough the paperwork for those proceedings seemed to have vanished completely.

Roy was slowly picking up the pieces of the life he had left behind in the wake of his self-imposed exile. He had been revitalized, there was much work to be done and such relief on his comrade's faces to see Roy in Central command again; even if he was going to have to work twice as hard to get back to where he was before.

It had been a long winter – and Edward brought back with him the spring.




The knock at his door had been a long time coming. Roy had a new place to live now; a simple flat several blocks from the base. He had lived out of the military dorms for a few months until a place opened up off-base … it was nowhere near as nice as his home had been as an officer, but he didn't need that now. All he required was some privacy, a place to rack out, an icebox and few shelves for some books.

When Roy opened the door, he almost didn't recognize the man standing there – but there was no way to mistake those wolf-gold eyes. Edward grinned at him, shuffled a moment and said, “Sorry I've been so long.”

He was dressed in clothes similar to what Roy saw him in last – a waistcoat and trousers, although these were cut more to the current Amestrian style; his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and he wasn't wearing gloves. The automail was different too, from what Roy remembered. Edward was wearing a trilby, which he took off when he stepped past Roy. He looked around and frowned. “This really your place?”

“It's not much,” Roy said. His sitting room doubled as a study; there was a couch facing the fireplace and a writing desk squeezed between two bookshelves that was covered in a haphazard mix of loose paper and books. Edward's eyes traveled around the room, and then back to Roy. They lingered on the eyepatch, but Edward didn't say anything. In fact, he shuffled slightly in place as if nervous. “Please, sit,” Roy said. “Coffee?”

“Sure,” Edward said.

Roy fussed about the small kitchen. It opened straight into the sitting room, and he could see Edward standing before one of the bookshelves absorbed in the titles of his books. He had no idea what he was doing all of the sudden – Edward was here, finally, and what was he meant to do?

Edward didn't sit. He came to the threshold of the kitchen and watched Roy, his hands shoved comfortably in the pockets of his trousers. He was taller than Roy thought he'd be; not quite as tall as Roy himself, but that familiar up-swept stalk of hair was now at eye-level. Everything about him was familiar – his stance was open, he moved the same way, his hair the same golden shade, those eyes unmistakable. “I missed you,” Edward said by way of opening the conversation. “I didn't think I would. I mean, I missed everyone – Al an' Winry an' Granny; Lieutenant Hawkeye, Havoc-” for a brief moment Roy thought he was simply going to list everyone he knew, but he stopped. Edward glanced at his feet, and then up to Roy, gathering himself. “But I really missed you.

“You were well-missed,” Roy murmured, keeping his hands busy and his face neutral.

“No,” Edward said. He cocked his head. “It took me a long time, to get it all straight in my head. Thought I was dead for months, thought ....” he stopped, scoffed. “If I wasn't thinking about Al, I was thinking 'bout you, you pompous dick.”

Roy finished with the percolator and poured the coffee. “Is that why you kissed me?”

I had a lot of time to think,” Edward continued. “Al … he doesn't remember, you know? We've been writing it all down, everything that happened. A record of things.” He accepted the cup from Roy, frowned down at it and then looked up to him. “You got any sugar?”

“On the counter.”

Edward squeezed around Roy, scooped more sugar than Roy thought was really necessary into his cup and stirred it. “You kissed me back.”

“I did.” Roy walked out to the sitting room, put his coffee down on the desk and turned the chair away, so he was facing the sofa. Edward trailed after him a moment, but remained standing, supporting the mug with his automail hand.

“I'm not imagining it then,” Edward said softly. “You do – did you feel like this before? Before...”

Roy crossed his legs, rested his folded hands in his lap and studied Edward. “When we last parted,” he said. “When I thought I was going off to my death, when I thought I was never going to see you again...” He touched his fingers to the dark side of his face. “I had a lot of time to think, myself. That there was going to be a long conversation with you, when I got out of the hospital and you limped back in to lick your wounds after the commotion had died down.”

It was almost impossible to keep the pain out of his voice. They hadn't told him right away. So many other things were happening at the time, the military and the government barely holding together at the seams. It was weeks before he heard about Alphonse, that there had been no trace of Edward but a partially burned-out transmutation circle and a ten-year-old, terribly confused, terribly distraught Alphonse Elric. Roy closed his one good eye, the words turning to ashes in his mouth. “But you never turned up. They found Alphonse. They told me you were dead.”

“I'm not,” Edward said softly. Roy's eye started open, Edward's hand was on his shoulder. He had moved, he was standing before Roy now. When Roy started he lifted his hand, and then, very carefully moved it to Roy's cheek. Roy sighed softly, against the warmth of Edward's flesh hand, and then closed his eye again.

Edward kissed him.

This wasn't a rush of adrenaline on a battlefield, this wasn't the needy desperation of an unexpected reunion – this was Edward, simply leaning over him with one hand on his face and the other resting on the back of his chair. Roy kissed him back, let Edward in, left him in control. Edward rested his forehead against Roy's, licked his lips and waited for Roy to open his eye again. “I'm not,” Edward said again, as Roy breathed him in. “Please tell me you want this as much as I do.”

Roy opened his eye. “You don't know what you're asking of me,” he said, even as the words twisted in his gut. He wanted nothing more to say yes, to pull Edward into his lap, drag him into the bedroom and moan the words into his skin how much he wanted this, how much he needed this.

“Bastard,” Edward spat, and lifted his head. He did not move away, although he glared off into the wall, staring through it and away from Roy. After a long moment, he gave a short laugh and swung his attention back to Roy. “Don't make me beg,” his voice had gone scratchy. “If I walk out that door I am never coming back, Mustang.”

“And what if I give you what you want?” Roy's mask was neutral. “What then?”

Edward stared at him like he had grown a second head. “If you give me what I want?” Now he did stand up and take a step back. “Are you trying to piss me off? Because it's working.”

“I need to know, Edward.” His name felt foreign on Roy's tongue, for all the times he'd thought it he so rarely spoke it aloud. “Because I do want it.”

Edward's stiffly held shoulders relaxed. He exhaled, like he had been holding his breath, and the crossed-arms, closed-off angry posture softened. “What then?” he repeated. “You – I don't know why I thought you'd've changed, everyone else has, but you're exactly the same.” He shook his head, but somehow the smile worked its way through anyway. “‘What then’ is you'll have me, you arrogant fuckstick.” His eyes did not leave Roy's. “If you want me.”




Apparently, that had been the right answer.

Edward laughed into Roy's neck in relief. He had honestly feared that Roy would send him away, after all that – months, years of introspection and doubt all just thrown into the fire and consumed. Now Roy kissed him, Roy pressed him into the wall with his body, weight warm and comforting over Edward's own. There was some intention of making it into the bedroom and the thought of where that led made Edward's stomach roil in fear and anticipation. They hadn't made it that far yet, because as soon as Roy was standing beside him he was kissing Edward again and again, mouth and face and sucking a dark mark into his neck, knee pressed between Edward's legs to keep him off-balance.

This was real, this was really happening. His hands pulled at Roy's shirt, fingers sliding between the buttons and popping several off in his haste. Roy lifted his head, frowned and Edward said “fuck, I'll fix it later-” and kissed him again.

Roy's shirt was untucked, Edward's waistcoat shrugged off somewhere in the hallway; they were leaving items of clothing behind like breadcrumbs. Roy's hand brushed down his side and cupped his ass. Edward's face went flame-red, this time Roy laughed and groped him with both hands, almost lifting him off his toes.

Roy laughed. Edward had never heard Roy laugh like that before, the few times had always been measured, posturing, pointed – but this was free and genuine and he wanted to hear it again and again. They had made it into the bedroom now, a small bare room with a chest of drawers and a plain bed. Edward glanced around, decided it needed some work and let Roy shove him toward the bed itself. He flopped down, on his side and rolled over, looking up at Roy.

He had stopped at the edge of the bed and was looking down at Edward, chest heaving. Roy's hair was a mess, his shirt was hanging open and off one shoulder, skin milky white. He looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years. Edward sat up, dropped his feet onto the floor over the side of the bed and held his hands out to Roy. He didn't like the broken expression that had settled over Roy's face like a cloud. “Come here,” Edward ordered, his voice sounding strange in his own ears.

Roy shook in his arms, his face pressed between neck and shoulder. Edward didn't say anything, just let him feel the weight of his arms and the warmth of his body. “I thought you were dead,” Roy said into his skin. “I thought you were dead and it was my fault-”

Edward combed his fingers through Roy's hair and then kissed the side of his head, above the patch. “Don't,” he murmured. “I'm here now, Roy. Please, please-”

Somehow, they ended up back on the bed together, kissing frantically. Edward didn't manage to get his shoe off of one foot so his trousers hung off his leg; Roy didn't even get that far. They were too far gone for complete sentences, Edward gasped Roy's name into his shoulder, got a grip on his shirt and tore it. Roy didn't even notice, head bowed and sweat dripping from his temples. They should go slower, they should be more careful and try to savor this but there would be plenty of time for that later, later-

Edward came back to himself with his back to Roy's chest, wrapped tight in Roy's arms. He was sticky and sore and exhausted, half dressed and everything around him smelled like Roy. He breathed in deep and sighed, completely content. There was a lot that they had to work out, but right now he could not think of any place he felt more safe and secure. He stretched his automail arm out – it was a new model that Winry was exceptionally proud of, made of lighter and more durable material. He still wasn't used to it. To his surprise, Roy stirred, followed his arm and then folded his hand over Edward's outstretched one.

Roy pulled Edward's arm back, tucking his own over top and sighing against the back of Edward's shoulder. “Can we stay like this?” Roy asked him softly, his breath warm.
“Sure,” Edward said. “I don't have anywhere else to be.”

He could imagine the smile on Roy's face as he nestled himself against Edward and slept.

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