Waiting: Mother Arc: Chapter 3

"‹Cousin does seem happy,›" Li Xue said as she helped arrange the chairs in the courtyard.

"‹But that isn't what I asked,›" Yu persisted. "‹Move those two tables together and set the other two next to them,›" she said to the other workers, "‹no, over there.›" Turning back to her niece, she continued; "‹Don't they strike you as an . . . unusual match?›"

"‹But this is Amestris, not Xing,›" the younger woman said with a shrug, setting the chairs by the rearranged tables.

"‹And you are the one who has studied western culture for the last ten years,›" Yu countered. "‹That space needs to be clear, move those tables to the right.›"

"‹So how much age is between them?›"

"‹No, a little more, that's where the demonstration is going to be. Fourteen years, according to Roy.›"

"‹Well, not as bad as I'd feared. I hadn't thought Edward was quite that old.›"

"‹He's still little more than a child.›"

"‹Adolescents reach their majority at sixteen in Amestris.›"

"‹And you know as well as I that that is no more than a line in a legal text. How is that supposed to say how mature a person is?›"

"‹And how is fourteen years supposed to say how immature a person is?›" Li Xue shot back. "‹Auntie, this table wobbles.›"

"‹It looks like a leg is bent.›" She fished a nub of chalk from her pocket and began to sketch an array on the surface of the table. It made her think of Edward drawing arrays the day before, scratching out the lines and symbols almost faster than she could follow the logic.

"‹Honestly, Auntie, Edward does seem somewhat . . . less than mature, at times, but I'm sure my cousin wouldn't be involved with him if he were truly still a child.›"

"‹I'm sure you're right.›" I hope you're right. She activated the array, willing the bent leg back into its original shape. "‹I wasn't just referring to their ages, though.›"

"‹They do seem to clash quite a bit,›" the younger woman mused.

"‹They do,›" Yu agreed. "‹Although Roy is certainly fond of him.›"

"‹He does seem to be, doesn't he?›"

"‹Li Xue!›"

"‹Oh! Yes, Princess?›"

"‹I have a favor to ask. Are you free?›"

Yu waved the two of them off, smudging out her array with her other hand. "‹We have more than enough hands to finish setting up.›"

She watched her niece leave with Princess Mei, then turned back to directing the arrangement of tables and chairs. Li Xue was right, of course; she didn't believe that Roy would have gotten involved with someone he believed to be a child. But her son had always been a passionate person, and in the past she had seen that passion blind him to reality. He wasn't just fond of Edward, he was extremely fond of him; it was the reciprocal feeling she wasn't as sure of.

"Yu! Yu Mustang!"

She was pulled from her thoughts by a loud voice that triggered memories decades old. She turned, one hand on her chest from shock.

A broad-shouldered man with greying hair grinned broadly and waved to her. "Ha ha! There you are, Yu-chan! Pretty as ever, I see."

She laughed, walking over and slapping the man on the shoulder. "And you're just as much of a flatterer. Major General Johansen! What are you doing out here?"

"It's General Johansen, now, retired," her husband's former superior officer corrected her. He brushed at his sleeve, then nodded at her blouse with a grin. "Same old Yu, getting chalk dust everywhere."

She glanced down at the smudged white hand print and laughed. "Just a hazard—"

"—of being an alchemist," he finished with her. "Like I said, same old Yu. It's getting on toward lunch, why don't we grab a bite and catch up?"

"I really should stay 'till this is finished—"

"What, this?" he waved a hand at the tables. "It's not going to fall apart because you take an hour or two off."

"I suppose. . . ."

"Great! Come on, I passed by this charming little caf on my way here."

* * *

Amestrians certainly seemed to like their large, imposing buildings. In Li Xue's opinion a house of knowledge should be more welcoming, although the atmosphere did command a certain level of respect.

She must have looked lost, because it wasn't long before a middle-aged woman with an indulgent smile came up and asked her if she needed assistance.

"Ah—yes. I am looking for . . . old news, I think."

The woman smiled and ushered her further in. "Then you've come to the right place, dear. The library is probably the only place where you can find old news. What sort of subjects are you looking for?"

"Alchemy. Any alchemy news, maybe five years old."

"Oh, for alchemy you'll want Olivia. Olivia-chan!"

A young woman looked up from the front desk, tugging her glasses down her nose to look over the frames, then walked over when the other woman beckoned.

"Olivia here is our resident alchemy expert."

"I'm hardly an expert. I just know a bit, that's all."

The older woman smiled and patted Olivia's arm. "The rest of us don't even know which end of an array goes up." Li Xue thought she heard the girl mutter "It's a circle," but the other librarian went on. "Olivia-chan, this lady here wants old news stories about alchemy. From five years ago, you said, dear?"

The Xingian woman nodded. "Yes, five years. More or less. I do not have exact times."

"About five years, huh?" The girl tugged thoughtfully on the end of her braided hair. "Local or national?"

"Both, I think. I do not know, this is not for me."

"Hm." She chewed on her bottom lip and glanced away for a moment, before turning back and looking at Li Xue over the rim of her glasses. "Well, just about everything news worthy concerning alchemy—local or national—from about four to seven years ago involved the Fullmetal Alchemist—Edward Elric-san. You might want to just talk to him."

"Ah. . . ." The shouting match between Edward and Mei replayed in her mind. "If this was for me, I would, but . . . I think I stay with news for now."

"Okay. Well, let's go back to the archives, then, and I'll see what I can dig up for you."

* * *

Edward walked down the unused wing of the headquarters' complex and frowned, his eyebrows drawing together as he scanned the abandoned and mostly empty rooms along the hallway. This section was in serious need of remodeling, if the cracked walls and rusted fixtures he'd seen were any indication. But this was where Allensworth had said Roy would be. According to the warrant officer, the Brigadier General had already eaten a quick lunch at his desk over paperwork, and had then come here on his lunch break to . . . what, watch plaster chip?

Ed came to the correct room and started to reach for the door, then stopped. He could have sworn he heard something, a small, quick pop, like a miniature explosion. Something that triggered teenage memories, something he hadn't heard in years. . . .

Gasping in realization, he quickly twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

Mustang glanced at him, a second longer than it would take to register who he was, and then raised a hand, a look of concentration on his face. A sharp, quick rasp of rough fabric, and a thin jet of flame shot toward a pile of cinderblocks stacked in the center of the room.

Ed realized he was holding his breath and let it out with an audible sound. "Roy, you—I thought—"

The older man appraised the scorched pile of bricks with a small smile. "It's not quite as tidy as it used to be."

The blond finally let go of the door and pushed it shut, then all but tackled his lover, throwing his arms around him and squeezing. Roy let out a theatrical oof and staggered back a step. "I thought . . . I was afraid you'd given up alchemy."

"I had," he said in a strained voice. Ed rolled his eyes, but loosened his grip all the same. "I didn't think I'd be able to, after loosing my eye," Roy continued, putting an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "That and . . . other reasons. But all this talk about alchemy made me realize . . . I miss it. So I thought I'd give it a try. Did Allensworth tell you I was here?"

"Yeah. What, you think I'd talk to Marcus? You know he only acknowledges me when he's forced to."

"Lieutenant Marcus acknowledges you."

"No, he glares at me. When he thinks I'm not looking. Never mind him. You—fuck, Roy." He squeezed him again. "You're doing your alchemy again."

"I would like for my ribs to stay intact, however."

"Wuss." Ed tipped his head back, and saw something in the single dark eye that had been missing for the past year, a certain pride and satisfaction that went deeper than the arrogance the man used as a front. He might try to play it off as flash and show, but Ed knew better, he'd seen the Flame Alchemist's old journals; Roy loved alchemy. Ed knew what it felt like to have his confidence shaken; and he knew what it felt like to have something he loved tainted to the point of not wanting to use it.

"I wasn't expecting you to come by today, but I'm glad you did," the older man said. "I was planning to talk to you about this tonight. If I'm going to do any serious practicing, I'm going to need a spotter. Someone to be there in case . . . well, just in case."

Ed smiled, resting his chin on Roy's collarbone. "Since when do you ever let anything slip out of your control?"

"It's not as easy as it used to be." He looked over to the scorch-marked cinderblocks. "I can't judge distance very well." He sighed, one gloved hand idly rubbing the blond's shoulder. "We don't realize how much we take something like depth perception for granted until we lose it."

"You'll manage." He pressed a kiss to one blue-clad shoulder. "Lotsa birds don't have much depth perception, but you don't see them flying into things."

"Well, I hope I'm at least as smart as a bird," the older man said, sardonically.

Ed snickered. "We'll see." He leaned back a little to meet his lover's smirk. The man was just fucking sexy, it shouldn't be legal for a man to be that sexy. What did it matter that part of his face was covered by the patch, that just meant he was willing to take a stand for what he believed. Edward reached up and caressed his lover's cheek with his metal palm, stroking his thumb against the eye patch, so lightly that the pressure sensors barely registered that he was touching something. "You'll manage," he repeated. He ran the hand back and threaded gloved fingers into the short, dark strands. "You always find a way."

The dark eye softened a bit as the smirk turned into a smile. "Only because I've always had such great help."

The blond returned the smile, then went up on tiptoe to claim it, waiting only a moment before flicking his tongue against those lips to ask for entrance. It was eagerly granted, and Roy leaned forward, pressing him back onto his heels, sliding his tongue against Ed's as Ed explored the far corners of his mouth.

The older man sucked on his tongue lightly, almost thoughtfully, before pulling back and smirking down at him. "Mmm . . . this is turning you on, isn't it. . . ."

"I want to fuck you," the smaller man admitted, fisting his hands in the front of his uniform. "Now."

Roy leaned down until their noses were touching and flicked his tongue out to lick up some of the saliva around Ed's mouth. "Aren't you meeting with that librarian this afternoon?"

"I can be late, she probably will be."

He tsked. "And in addition to my regular work, I have to help set up for tomorrow."

"Shit."

The older man leaned forward the rest of the way then, taking his mouth in a kiss that started out soft and gentle but quickly built in intensity. Ed pulled down on the uniform and moaned as he fought his lover for control, nipping at his lips and pushing back with his tongue. Suddenly his shirt was pulled from his pants, and rough-gloved hands were pressing against his bare skin, the thumbs moving against his waist, just on the edge of tickling, and Ed gasped into the kiss.

Roy took full tactical advantage, plunging in his tongue and thoroughly fucking the other man's mouth as his thumbs stroked his stomach.

Ed squeaked softly as his mouth was claimed, afraid to move for the hands at his waist, and not entirely sure he wanted to. The man was just so fucking sexy when he was on a power trip. But two could play at this.

The blond closed his mouth, letting his teeth bite just gently into the other man's tongue. He felt the older man stiffen a little in surprise, and he smiled to himself as he sucked on his captive.

When they finally broke apart they both drew back a little, staring at each other and both short of breath. "Bastard," Ed panted. "What the fuck'er you doing, getting me worked up like this if I can't fuck you?"

"Well. . . ." The hands moved upwards, causing the younger man to gasp again at the sudden movement. "We do have a little time."

The thumbs lightly circled his nipples, the rough texture gaining an instant reaction. Ed groaned and let his head fall forward between his hands, arching his back to give those wonderful, talented hands room to work.

The older man kissed his hair. "Like that, hm?"

"Bas . . . tard. . . ."

The bastard chuckled, slowly caressing and prodding the sensitive nubs. Ed whimpered.

The blond pressed his forehead into his lover's chest and tried to stifle a moan as the fingers gently pinched and plucked at his nipples. "Sh-shouldn't we—lock the door?"

"Why? No one comes down here."

"But—what if—ah!" One hand skated down his stomach, causing him to jump. "Watch it, you bastard! That tickled!"

Roy kissed his hair again, pressing the offending hand firmly against his stomach and lightly caressing a nipple with the other. "My apologies."

He deftly worked Edward's belt and pants open, barely slowed by the glove, then slipped the hand inside his shorts and cupped him.

Ed went up on his toes and let out a quiet keening noise. His brain was screaming at him that this was really not the place or the time, and they really should at least lock the door, but his body was completely at the mercy of the man in front of him, held captive by light touches from rough-gloved hands. "You're gonna get your glove wet," he managed through a groan.

"Give me a little credit." He shifted, adjusting the pressure of his hands just so, and Ed found himself taking tiny, awkward steps backwards. Talk about being led around by the balls. "I'd like to think I know my lover well enough by now."

"Arrogant . . . fucking—ah!" The younger man was interrupted by his ass bumping into the wall. Roy chuckled, and pushed him back to lean against the wall, gently kneading his testicles. The texture was just on the edge of too much, and it felt—so—good.

"Yes, yes, I know." The older man kissed him, slow and sensual, and pried his hands off his jacket. "And that turns you on . . . doesn't it."

Ed wanted to deny it—arrogant bastard didn't need any more of an ego-boost—but what was the point? The fucker obviously had him in the palm of his hand. Quite literally, at the moment. So he said nothing, just watched as the dark-haired man knelt in front of him, expression so smug and confident that Ed wanted to fuck him through the floor. Damn sexy bastard.

The hand left him and Ed whimpered, even if it was only moving to help the other hand push the clothes down to his thighs.

"Patience, Love."

"Fuck patience."

One dark eyebrow arched, and then Roy nosed him at his base, his lips moving over his sack, light and teasing against skin so recently sensitized. Ed whimpered again and dug his fingers into the wall behind him, doing his best not to buck his hips.

"Roy," he mewled. "Roy, that . . . oh fuck. . . ."

The older man drew one testicle into his mouth and hummed, and Ed threw his head back, arching away from the wall and letting out a strangled moan.

The mouth drew back and kissed him, once, twice, and again, the gesture a mix of lust and affection, something that never failed to turn the younger man into putty. He drew in a shaking breath and straightened his back, dropping his chin to his chest, and met the dark, heated gaze directed up at him.

"You're so beautiful like this, Love." His voice was low, husky, his breath ghosting over spit-moistened skin and making Ed shiver. "So very beautiful."

"Roy. . . ."

The older man steadied his cock with one hand, while the other pinned the blond's hip against the wall. He drew his tongue up the under side in a long, slow lick, then closed his lips around the head. Ed jerked against the hands holding him back, unable to stop himself from trying to thrust, and Roy arched his eyebrow again. He sucked lightly for a moment, teasingly, and the younger man bit his lip. His thighs starting to quiver from the effort of holding still.

Roy hummed approvingly and went down on him, taking in as much as he could. He was holding him by the thighs now, his thumbs digging into the skin near his groin.

Edward moaned as the dark-haired man started moving, pulling back to the head and then taking him in again, back and down, building a steady rhythm. By rights Ed should be the one in control here; he had his lover on his knees, sucking him off. But Roy was the one with all the power, all the control. The younger man was completely at his mercy, and fuck if that wasn't a turn-on.

He scrabbled against the wall, panting in an attempt to not moan too loudly. Never mind that this was an unused wing; they were still at headquarters, and they hadn't even locked the fucking door. Although at this rate, he wasn't going to last very long. "Ah—Colonel, I'm—fuck—"

One hand moved, the thumb stroking his inner thigh, then traveling back to press against the sensitive skin behind his balls. Ed's head fell back against the wall again, his mouth open in a silent cry and his hips jerking as he came.

Distantly, he heard Roy gag, but the man stayed on him, swallowing as much as he could and licking up what he missed before he pulled away. The hands on his thighs were the only thing holding the young man up now. When their support withdrew he slid down the wall, but strong arms caught him before he hit the floor, gathering him against a warm, broad chest and arranging him as the taller man sat back on his heels.

"No falling asleep," said a deep, amused voice. "You have an appointment to keep, remember?"

"B'stard." Ed closed his eyes and pressed his nose against Roy's neck, the fabric of the uniform soft and a bit scratchy against his cheek. He breathed in the scent of wool and sweat and aftershave and sex. The arms around him shifted, nudging him this way and that, and then he felt ungloved fingers in his hair.

"You might want to do something about the state of your hair, though, Love," Roy said as he carefully slid the tie free. Ed just grunted. The older man chuckled, finger-combing his lover's hair into some semblance of neatness and retying it. "There. At least now you can claim it was the wind. Of course, it really won't make a difference unless you fix your clothing."

"Idiot." Edward rolled his eyes and pushed himself up. "You might want to think about your own clothes. Your uniform's looking a bit rumpled."

"That's easy enough to fix." He smirked and smoothed a hand down the front of his jacket, twitching the uniform back into place, then ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back down.

Ed barely resisted the urge to bury his fingers in that thick, dark hair again. "I'm fucking you as soon as we get home tonight."

"What about dinner?"

"We'll order something—oh, shit, no, Winry's train gets in at six tonight, that's what I came here to tell you. Fuck."

"Hm. I guess you'll just have to wait, then."

Fucking arrogant, fucking sexy bastard. Ed grabbed the front of his uniform again, undoing the careful primping, and pulled him into a bruising kiss, moaning softly when he tasted himself on his lover's lips. "I'm fucking you just as soon as I get the fucking chance, Colonel Bastard."

"Is that a promise, Fullmetal?"

"You're fucking right it is."