Kataomoi Ch 3: In which we rewind a little
Jun. 6th, 2005 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
akainagi
Genre: Romance/Angst/Humor (little for everyone)
Pairing: RoyEd
Rating: So far PG-13 for Ed's dirty mouth
For the record, Roy Mustang was not the most altruistic person in the world.
His decision to set out on a mission to find the military’s most short-statured and short-tempered alchemist was prompted mostly by a desire to get away from Hawkeye, her gun and a mountain of paperwork. For a woman who shot at puppies, she caved amazingly fast when faced with a tearful-sounding, nearly seven foot tall teenaged suit of armor. But then, it would take a person with a heart of granite to remain completely unmoved by Al’s pleading.
And although he was loath to admit it, he was also curious. Namely as to why, according to Hawkeye, Ed had come ripping out of headquarters this morning like he was being chased by wild dogs. Roy had replied to the Lieutenant that that if she added one more sheet to his already insurmountable pile of paperwork, he might follow Ed’s example.
She had not been amused.
Al had a pretty good idea as to where his brother had absconded. Roy left the younger Elric brother waiting less than patiently outside the National Library; the only place Al couldn’t get into, and the one place his brother most likely was. The night librarian greeted him with a respectful bow as he entered. Roy remembered the days when he would have perused the stacks himself, enjoying the simple pleasures of pure alchemical research. Those days had grown less and less with every promotion he received, until he rarely saw the inside of the country’s greatest library at all; one of the pleasures he sacrificed in furtherance of his ultimate goal.
He was mildly surprised to find Ed not in his usual seat. He wondered how the teen would react to finding out exactly how much Roy Mustang knew about him, from the content of his missions down to his favorite seat in the library. He smiled to himself as he made his way through the stacks. It paid to keep tabs on his most volatile subordinate, if only to see him turn red in the face when it came time to submit a report.
In the end, Ed’s brightly-colored coat gave him away. It showed up as a brilliant shock of red from across the library floor. It wasn’t until Roy was practically on top of him that he caught sight of Ed’s blond head, pillowed on his arm, dead to the world.
Roy could clearly remember the only two times he had seen the younger alchemist asleep. Once being the first time Roy had ever set eyes on him. Ed had been a young boy then; bandaged, bleeding and shattered. That Ed had looked small and fragile, and had aroused in Roy the bitter stirrings of pity. The boy had attempted a human transmutation, a fact that should have filled him with disgust. Instead he felt a pained sympathy for this child he didn’t even know. Years ago, Roy had come close to trying the same thing, before Maes Hughes had drop-kicked him back onto the road to sanity. He supposed he could understand what had driven the eleven year old to such a desperate act.
The second time he had seen Ed asleep had been just as memorable. Roy had been the one to take the unconscious alchemist to Shou Tucker’s after he fainted in a dark alleyway, unable to stand the sight of Barry the Chopper’s handiwork. Ed had always assumed that someone else, maybe even Hughes, had taken charge of him that day. He would probably be mortified if he knew the truth. Roy recalled sitting in the backseat of the car, holding the delirious Ed as the boy murmured endless apologies. Roy still remembered Ed clutching at him in his sleep. The weak voice had begged for forgiveness. It asked for absolution, but none was forthcoming. The dead could not give absolution. The proof of that fact was in the innumerable sleepless nights Roy had spent drowning in the memory of Ishbal, burning with fires he had set with his own hands.
He saw too much of himself in Edward Elric.
Roy knelt down to study the face of the slumbering alchemist. It was a rare opportunity; the chance to study Fullmetal without being swung at, sworn at or otherwise insulted. Ed’s was a more angular, mature face than it had been four years ago. He looked solemn and peaceful in his sleep. Contrary to what Roy would have thought, he did not look all that innocent. But maybe that was because Roy knew most of the innocence had been beaten out of him already.
The general consensus from the female population was that Edward Elric was cute as a button. He had actually heard that phrase used on Fullmetal before. That particular woman (some higher-up’s secretary, if he recalled) had most assuredly lost some hearing in one ear. Roy bit back a smile at the memory of Ed in chibi rage mode bellowing, “WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD FIT THROUGH THE BUTTONHOLE ON YOUR SHIRT!”
Roy had to respectfully disagree with the female opinion. No one who had seen Edward Elric on the night he lost his arm and leg could ever call him cute. But the boy was striking. Vertical elevation notwithstanding, he could probably have any girl he wanted. Unfortunately for the teenage girls of Central City, no one could ever compete with his brother for Ed’s time and devotion.
Roy wished he could say he admired Fullmetal’s looks from a purely objective standpoint. Unfortunately for him, he always had been partial to petite blondes. He gave into temptation and fingered the end of a long blonde braid. He appreciated the silken texture of strands at his fingertips, as soft as any woman’s. The first time he found himself appreciating Ed’s physical attributes he had been vaguely disgusted with himself. The boy had been scandalously young at the time. Not that he wasn’t now. But he would still be off-limits, even if he wasn’t jailbait. And even if Ed could stand the older man, a supposition that Ed belied loudly and at every opportunity. Roy had bidden goodbye to his last male lover years ago. Something else he had been willing to sacrifice for his ambitions. For an officer trying to claw his way up the military hierarchy, a certain image must be maintained. And for the most part, Roy had never come across anyone who made him want to risk that image. For the most part, he had never looked back.
For the most part.
He suddenly wanted nothing more than to be home in his bed. Preferably after a glass of scotch. Time to rise and shine, Major Elric. Roy gave the braid a quick tug.
The result was immediate and highly amusing. Ed’s peaceful face screwed up in distaste. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in confusion, his face one big, grumpy question mark.
Maybe that secretary had been on to something after all. He was kind of cute.
Especially when he began shamelessly freaking out. Roy quickly got out of the way of the irate alchemist’s flailing. He didn’t relish getting belted with an automail arm at the end of a long day. He waited for Ed to regain his equilibrium. True to form, it didn’t take long.
“What the hell are you doing here, you shit colonel?”
Business as usual. Roy assumed the smirk that never failed to send the younger man into apoplectic fits. “Now is that any way to speak to your superior, Fullmetal? And after I went out of my way to do you a favor …”
Ed leapt out of his chair in a huff. How did he go from unconscious to breathing fire in less than a minute? “What favor?” The fact that he was trying to argue in a library voice resulted in something between a growl an indignant croak. “The one where you send me hundreds of miles away to some backwater dump on your bullshit errands?”
Roy was trying not to laugh at the spectacle of Fullmetal trying to argue quietly. He shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted leads.”
“Lead my ass!” Ed growled. His face was turning an attractive shade of red. “That wasn’t a lead. That was you using me do your dirty work again and passing it off as a lead. What the hell do you take me for?”
Roy thought about possible retorts, most of which would have Fullmetal adding ‘pervert’ to his list of nicknames for the colonel. He abstained, not so much because he feared the teen’s reaction, which would likely be colorful, loud, and possibly involve heavy artillery. Rather he abstained because such a statement, even made in jest, would be too close to the truth for his own comfort. Revealing too much of his thoughts was not something Roy Mustang did easily, or at all if he could avoid it.
“Actually, the favor I was referring to was for your brother,” he informed Ed. “Imagine my surprise when Alphonse comes knocking on my office door at nine at night begging me to help find his poor lost brother …”
That created a predictable response. Ed scooped up his impossibly large pile of books and charged past the Flame Alchemist, on a mission to return to his brother; the person he had spent the last half-decade living for. Roy didn’t question why he felt the desire to stop him. Maybe he just wanted to prove to himself that he could. And he could. Faster than you could say ‘shrimp.’
And when Ed started flinging literature and inquiring at high volume who the hell Roy Mustang was calling short, Roy knew why he had stopped the short alchemist. The sheer entertainment value of Edward Elric in chibi rage mode was reason enough. Ed was flushed, his breathing was heavy and his eyes reminded Roy of a wild animal ready to pounce.
Ed was hot when he was angry.
This is what he missed when he sent Ed off to what the young man colorfully termed ‘backwater dumps.’ The energy. The predictability. The unpredictability. The insults. The slightly masochistic pleasure of being teased with something you wanted, but couldn’t have. And knowing you could never have it was in itself a liberating thought. It meant you never actually had to do anything about it.
Just sit back, watch, and enjoy.
This was the kind of ending he needed to a day filled with meaningless paperwork and staring down the barrel of Hawkeye’s gun. He felt laughter welling up inside him, and rather than quash it down, he let it out. He laughed because it felt good, it felt comfortable, and damned if life wasn’t more entertaining with the angry runt around. Ed’s rage turned into comedy of errors as he fumbled around, dropping books as fast as he picked them up and grumbling something about a ‘sadistic bastard colonel.’ Roy laughed so hard his sides were starting to hurt. He was laughing so hard he didn’t notice Ed about to pour the full weight of his righteous indignation into an alchemical attack. He didn’t notice Ed staring at him with a fury that morphed into desire-tinged horror. He didn’t notice Ed’s hasty retreat until the teen was halfway to the exit.
“Fullmetal!” For some reason his voice didn’t sound very authoritative when the colonel was trying to choke down a giggle.
Ed didn’t even pause. He charged through the stairwell door and disappeared, leaving Mustang standing there, still clutching the book Ed had thrown at him, wondering what the hell just happened.
Because Ed had just taken off like a devil was at his heels.
And apparently the devil was Roy Mustang.
Usually it took either his brother’s pleading or a few warning shots from Hawkeye to pry Ed away from a sparring match with the colonel. So why the hell did he just run away? Maybe Hawkeye was right. Ed was acting strangely. Ed didn’t run away from much of anything. He was more likely to go charging like a miniature bull into situations where more prudent individuals would head for the hills.
Roy moved to the window overlooking the front entrance below. He waited and watched until Fullmetal emerged, greeted enthusiastically by his younger brother. Roy watched as they began walking away, the pale streetlights reflecting off both Al’s silver body and Fullmetal’s golden hair. He stood there for a moment, even after the two vanished into the darkness. He sighed.
Fullmetal was so getting called on the carpet tomorrow.
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Next Chapter
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akainagiGenre: Romance/Angst/Humor (little for everyone)
Pairing: RoyEd
Rating: So far PG-13 for Ed's dirty mouth
For the record, Roy Mustang was not the most altruistic person in the world.
His decision to set out on a mission to find the military’s most short-statured and short-tempered alchemist was prompted mostly by a desire to get away from Hawkeye, her gun and a mountain of paperwork. For a woman who shot at puppies, she caved amazingly fast when faced with a tearful-sounding, nearly seven foot tall teenaged suit of armor. But then, it would take a person with a heart of granite to remain completely unmoved by Al’s pleading.
And although he was loath to admit it, he was also curious. Namely as to why, according to Hawkeye, Ed had come ripping out of headquarters this morning like he was being chased by wild dogs. Roy had replied to the Lieutenant that that if she added one more sheet to his already insurmountable pile of paperwork, he might follow Ed’s example.
She had not been amused.
Al had a pretty good idea as to where his brother had absconded. Roy left the younger Elric brother waiting less than patiently outside the National Library; the only place Al couldn’t get into, and the one place his brother most likely was. The night librarian greeted him with a respectful bow as he entered. Roy remembered the days when he would have perused the stacks himself, enjoying the simple pleasures of pure alchemical research. Those days had grown less and less with every promotion he received, until he rarely saw the inside of the country’s greatest library at all; one of the pleasures he sacrificed in furtherance of his ultimate goal.
He was mildly surprised to find Ed not in his usual seat. He wondered how the teen would react to finding out exactly how much Roy Mustang knew about him, from the content of his missions down to his favorite seat in the library. He smiled to himself as he made his way through the stacks. It paid to keep tabs on his most volatile subordinate, if only to see him turn red in the face when it came time to submit a report.
In the end, Ed’s brightly-colored coat gave him away. It showed up as a brilliant shock of red from across the library floor. It wasn’t until Roy was practically on top of him that he caught sight of Ed’s blond head, pillowed on his arm, dead to the world.
Roy could clearly remember the only two times he had seen the younger alchemist asleep. Once being the first time Roy had ever set eyes on him. Ed had been a young boy then; bandaged, bleeding and shattered. That Ed had looked small and fragile, and had aroused in Roy the bitter stirrings of pity. The boy had attempted a human transmutation, a fact that should have filled him with disgust. Instead he felt a pained sympathy for this child he didn’t even know. Years ago, Roy had come close to trying the same thing, before Maes Hughes had drop-kicked him back onto the road to sanity. He supposed he could understand what had driven the eleven year old to such a desperate act.
The second time he had seen Ed asleep had been just as memorable. Roy had been the one to take the unconscious alchemist to Shou Tucker’s after he fainted in a dark alleyway, unable to stand the sight of Barry the Chopper’s handiwork. Ed had always assumed that someone else, maybe even Hughes, had taken charge of him that day. He would probably be mortified if he knew the truth. Roy recalled sitting in the backseat of the car, holding the delirious Ed as the boy murmured endless apologies. Roy still remembered Ed clutching at him in his sleep. The weak voice had begged for forgiveness. It asked for absolution, but none was forthcoming. The dead could not give absolution. The proof of that fact was in the innumerable sleepless nights Roy had spent drowning in the memory of Ishbal, burning with fires he had set with his own hands.
He saw too much of himself in Edward Elric.
Roy knelt down to study the face of the slumbering alchemist. It was a rare opportunity; the chance to study Fullmetal without being swung at, sworn at or otherwise insulted. Ed’s was a more angular, mature face than it had been four years ago. He looked solemn and peaceful in his sleep. Contrary to what Roy would have thought, he did not look all that innocent. But maybe that was because Roy knew most of the innocence had been beaten out of him already.
The general consensus from the female population was that Edward Elric was cute as a button. He had actually heard that phrase used on Fullmetal before. That particular woman (some higher-up’s secretary, if he recalled) had most assuredly lost some hearing in one ear. Roy bit back a smile at the memory of Ed in chibi rage mode bellowing, “WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD FIT THROUGH THE BUTTONHOLE ON YOUR SHIRT!”
Roy had to respectfully disagree with the female opinion. No one who had seen Edward Elric on the night he lost his arm and leg could ever call him cute. But the boy was striking. Vertical elevation notwithstanding, he could probably have any girl he wanted. Unfortunately for the teenage girls of Central City, no one could ever compete with his brother for Ed’s time and devotion.
Roy wished he could say he admired Fullmetal’s looks from a purely objective standpoint. Unfortunately for him, he always had been partial to petite blondes. He gave into temptation and fingered the end of a long blonde braid. He appreciated the silken texture of strands at his fingertips, as soft as any woman’s. The first time he found himself appreciating Ed’s physical attributes he had been vaguely disgusted with himself. The boy had been scandalously young at the time. Not that he wasn’t now. But he would still be off-limits, even if he wasn’t jailbait. And even if Ed could stand the older man, a supposition that Ed belied loudly and at every opportunity. Roy had bidden goodbye to his last male lover years ago. Something else he had been willing to sacrifice for his ambitions. For an officer trying to claw his way up the military hierarchy, a certain image must be maintained. And for the most part, Roy had never come across anyone who made him want to risk that image. For the most part, he had never looked back.
For the most part.
He suddenly wanted nothing more than to be home in his bed. Preferably after a glass of scotch. Time to rise and shine, Major Elric. Roy gave the braid a quick tug.
The result was immediate and highly amusing. Ed’s peaceful face screwed up in distaste. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in confusion, his face one big, grumpy question mark.
Maybe that secretary had been on to something after all. He was kind of cute.
Especially when he began shamelessly freaking out. Roy quickly got out of the way of the irate alchemist’s flailing. He didn’t relish getting belted with an automail arm at the end of a long day. He waited for Ed to regain his equilibrium. True to form, it didn’t take long.
“What the hell are you doing here, you shit colonel?”
Business as usual. Roy assumed the smirk that never failed to send the younger man into apoplectic fits. “Now is that any way to speak to your superior, Fullmetal? And after I went out of my way to do you a favor …”
Ed leapt out of his chair in a huff. How did he go from unconscious to breathing fire in less than a minute? “What favor?” The fact that he was trying to argue in a library voice resulted in something between a growl an indignant croak. “The one where you send me hundreds of miles away to some backwater dump on your bullshit errands?”
Roy was trying not to laugh at the spectacle of Fullmetal trying to argue quietly. He shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted leads.”
“Lead my ass!” Ed growled. His face was turning an attractive shade of red. “That wasn’t a lead. That was you using me do your dirty work again and passing it off as a lead. What the hell do you take me for?”
Roy thought about possible retorts, most of which would have Fullmetal adding ‘pervert’ to his list of nicknames for the colonel. He abstained, not so much because he feared the teen’s reaction, which would likely be colorful, loud, and possibly involve heavy artillery. Rather he abstained because such a statement, even made in jest, would be too close to the truth for his own comfort. Revealing too much of his thoughts was not something Roy Mustang did easily, or at all if he could avoid it.
“Actually, the favor I was referring to was for your brother,” he informed Ed. “Imagine my surprise when Alphonse comes knocking on my office door at nine at night begging me to help find his poor lost brother …”
That created a predictable response. Ed scooped up his impossibly large pile of books and charged past the Flame Alchemist, on a mission to return to his brother; the person he had spent the last half-decade living for. Roy didn’t question why he felt the desire to stop him. Maybe he just wanted to prove to himself that he could. And he could. Faster than you could say ‘shrimp.’
And when Ed started flinging literature and inquiring at high volume who the hell Roy Mustang was calling short, Roy knew why he had stopped the short alchemist. The sheer entertainment value of Edward Elric in chibi rage mode was reason enough. Ed was flushed, his breathing was heavy and his eyes reminded Roy of a wild animal ready to pounce.
Ed was hot when he was angry.
This is what he missed when he sent Ed off to what the young man colorfully termed ‘backwater dumps.’ The energy. The predictability. The unpredictability. The insults. The slightly masochistic pleasure of being teased with something you wanted, but couldn’t have. And knowing you could never have it was in itself a liberating thought. It meant you never actually had to do anything about it.
Just sit back, watch, and enjoy.
This was the kind of ending he needed to a day filled with meaningless paperwork and staring down the barrel of Hawkeye’s gun. He felt laughter welling up inside him, and rather than quash it down, he let it out. He laughed because it felt good, it felt comfortable, and damned if life wasn’t more entertaining with the angry runt around. Ed’s rage turned into comedy of errors as he fumbled around, dropping books as fast as he picked them up and grumbling something about a ‘sadistic bastard colonel.’ Roy laughed so hard his sides were starting to hurt. He was laughing so hard he didn’t notice Ed about to pour the full weight of his righteous indignation into an alchemical attack. He didn’t notice Ed staring at him with a fury that morphed into desire-tinged horror. He didn’t notice Ed’s hasty retreat until the teen was halfway to the exit.
“Fullmetal!” For some reason his voice didn’t sound very authoritative when the colonel was trying to choke down a giggle.
Ed didn’t even pause. He charged through the stairwell door and disappeared, leaving Mustang standing there, still clutching the book Ed had thrown at him, wondering what the hell just happened.
Because Ed had just taken off like a devil was at his heels.
And apparently the devil was Roy Mustang.
Usually it took either his brother’s pleading or a few warning shots from Hawkeye to pry Ed away from a sparring match with the colonel. So why the hell did he just run away? Maybe Hawkeye was right. Ed was acting strangely. Ed didn’t run away from much of anything. He was more likely to go charging like a miniature bull into situations where more prudent individuals would head for the hills.
Roy moved to the window overlooking the front entrance below. He waited and watched until Fullmetal emerged, greeted enthusiastically by his younger brother. Roy watched as they began walking away, the pale streetlights reflecting off both Al’s silver body and Fullmetal’s golden hair. He stood there for a moment, even after the two vanished into the darkness. He sighed.
Fullmetal was so getting called on the carpet tomorrow.
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Next Chapter
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