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scriveynerTitle: Fire and Storm
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Reverse'verse
Characters/Pairing: Ed/Rian
Rating: T
Length: 685
Summary: "You've been gone all day."
“You’ve been gone all day,” Rian Martin said from the couch as Edward closed the door behind him. Edward sighed, an exaggerated motion, his shoulders slumped with either exhaustion or defeat. Rian unwound from his position on the couch, the blanket he was wrapped in sliding off his long legs and Edward froze, his coat half-off in the doorway.
It was unfair, Edward thought, and not for the first time. In the years after, once Alphonse had been restored and Winry had finally tweaked his automail to near-perfection, he finally had hit a growth spurt. Edward was still short (DAMN it), but not unusually so. His height did not cause him to stand out any more than Mustang did; in fact he nearly caught up to the old bastard, and at least achieved a similar height as Riza.
And then there was Rian, who when Edward met him the spikes of his hair barely brushed Edward’s nose. For the first time he was significantly taller than someone else, at seventeen Rian had been easily as short as Edward had been at fifteen. But alas, it seemed as though some things in this universe were a constant – the sun rose in the east and set in the west, you didn’t disturb Winry in her workshop, and Edward Elric would always be the shorter one in the relationship.
Rian brushed his fingers through Edward’s hair as he passed, shuffling down the hall and Edward heaved a great sigh of acceptance, hanging his coat begrudgingly. Rian had come back from an extended diplomatic excursion to Xing in the summer tan and lean and half a hand taller than Edward. It was unsettling, the maturity that had settled on Rian. He wore it well, although ‘goofy’ was still a factory setting, as was “flail self off of bed when Ed locates his ticklish spots.”
He was fortunate, then, that Rian was far too fond of being on his back where the relationship was concerned. It wasn’t that Edward would deny him the chance to top, in fact he would welcome the occasional change-up in their sex lives; but Rian dominating in that aspect would remind him far too much of another dark-haired lover, and his heart probably would not be able to take it. As it was, occasionally Edward would see it in glimpses; quick images out of the corner of his eye and he would startle, and Rian would catch Edward looking at him oddly.
It wasn’t as if Rian didn’t KNOW. He knew of Mustang, he knew of Edward’s relationship with him … and he knew how he occasionally resembled the man he would never meet. All the same, it wasn’t like Edward could stop Rian from being Rian.
Edward stood in the doorway to the kitchen where Rian lifted the lid off of a pot that was simmering merrily on the stove. Rian checked the contents and shifted the pot to a different burner, glancing over his shoulder at Edward. “Colonel,” Rian said, and pointed to the ice box. “If you’re just going to stand there, why don’t you help me finish putting dinner together?”
Roy never cooked, Edward realized as he moved bits of food between ice box and counter per Rian’s specific requests. They ate out all the time – and the few, sparse meals he had been privy too had been fairly utilitarian. Rian, on the other hand, had a huge adopted family that he had to, on occasion, cook for. Having to cook for ten and having to cook for two were entirely different beasts, and while Rian could cook a good meal, his attempts at cooking the RIGHT amount of food were still fairly inaccurate.
(All it meant, though, was that Edward better really like the meal because he would be eating the rest for lunch the remainder of the week.)
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Reverse'verse
Characters/Pairing: Ed/Rian
Rating: T
Length: 685
Summary: "You've been gone all day."
“You’ve been gone all day,” Rian Martin said from the couch as Edward closed the door behind him. Edward sighed, an exaggerated motion, his shoulders slumped with either exhaustion or defeat. Rian unwound from his position on the couch, the blanket he was wrapped in sliding off his long legs and Edward froze, his coat half-off in the doorway.
It was unfair, Edward thought, and not for the first time. In the years after, once Alphonse had been restored and Winry had finally tweaked his automail to near-perfection, he finally had hit a growth spurt. Edward was still short (DAMN it), but not unusually so. His height did not cause him to stand out any more than Mustang did; in fact he nearly caught up to the old bastard, and at least achieved a similar height as Riza.
And then there was Rian, who when Edward met him the spikes of his hair barely brushed Edward’s nose. For the first time he was significantly taller than someone else, at seventeen Rian had been easily as short as Edward had been at fifteen. But alas, it seemed as though some things in this universe were a constant – the sun rose in the east and set in the west, you didn’t disturb Winry in her workshop, and Edward Elric would always be the shorter one in the relationship.
Rian brushed his fingers through Edward’s hair as he passed, shuffling down the hall and Edward heaved a great sigh of acceptance, hanging his coat begrudgingly. Rian had come back from an extended diplomatic excursion to Xing in the summer tan and lean and half a hand taller than Edward. It was unsettling, the maturity that had settled on Rian. He wore it well, although ‘goofy’ was still a factory setting, as was “flail self off of bed when Ed locates his ticklish spots.”
He was fortunate, then, that Rian was far too fond of being on his back where the relationship was concerned. It wasn’t that Edward would deny him the chance to top, in fact he would welcome the occasional change-up in their sex lives; but Rian dominating in that aspect would remind him far too much of another dark-haired lover, and his heart probably would not be able to take it. As it was, occasionally Edward would see it in glimpses; quick images out of the corner of his eye and he would startle, and Rian would catch Edward looking at him oddly.
It wasn’t as if Rian didn’t KNOW. He knew of Mustang, he knew of Edward’s relationship with him … and he knew how he occasionally resembled the man he would never meet. All the same, it wasn’t like Edward could stop Rian from being Rian.
Edward stood in the doorway to the kitchen where Rian lifted the lid off of a pot that was simmering merrily on the stove. Rian checked the contents and shifted the pot to a different burner, glancing over his shoulder at Edward. “Colonel,” Rian said, and pointed to the ice box. “If you’re just going to stand there, why don’t you help me finish putting dinner together?”
Roy never cooked, Edward realized as he moved bits of food between ice box and counter per Rian’s specific requests. They ate out all the time – and the few, sparse meals he had been privy too had been fairly utilitarian. Rian, on the other hand, had a huge adopted family that he had to, on occasion, cook for. Having to cook for ten and having to cook for two were entirely different beasts, and while Rian could cook a good meal, his attempts at cooking the RIGHT amount of food were still fairly inaccurate.
(All it meant, though, was that Edward better really like the meal because he would be eating the rest for lunch the remainder of the week.)
