The Consequences of a Lack of Foresight

Mustang couldn’t suppress a smirk throughout the day. Some on his staff felt that boded ill for someone. He felt like he did the time he stole his first kiss. His cheek wasn’t stinging this time, but that didn’t make it any less exhilarating, even the next day.

Hawkeye finally asked him about it.

“You told him how to make my favorite. That’s not fair.”

“If you feel ganged up on, why do look so happy?”

“I kissed him.”

“And?”

“That’s it, just a brief kiss.” He was looking more smug. “I’m going to move slowly with him.”

“Good. Moving too fast will get you both into trouble.”

-----

Hawkeye was a prophet. But it wasn’t Mustang who moved too fast.

When he got home . . .

“I’ve made my decision, Roy. I want to stay. Here. With you. I love you.”

Mustang was a little startled. He wanted to move more slowly, but Edward was raising himself on the balls of his feet and tilting his head up, offering his lips. Mustang knew he should push the boy away gently, but his ability to resist had been wearing thinner every day. The sight of Ed offering himself up like this was a defiantly turn on. What the hell?

Mustang had to bend his head and Ed had to stretch, but they managed a passionate kiss. It seemed like Mustang’s mouth was permanently stained with the taste of coffee. Ed used one hand to pull himself up onto Mustang’s body via his shoulder and the other was in his hair, trying to rid it of that damned hair jell that made him look far less sexy and more official. Mustang’s right hand was holding Ed where his thigh and ass met, pulling him up and his left arm was wrapped around his back to keep him there. Their arousals rubbed against each other’s until they were both desperate.

Ed began pulling at the buttons and snaps on Mustang’s uniform—there were damned too many of them. He got the jacket open and used his hands to explore the muscles of the other’s body. Mustang’s hands were occupied by holding Ed up. Ed started opening the button down shirt. Ed let his weight fall a bit and Mustang let him down, breaking their kiss.

Ed licked at the Mustang’s hairless pectoral muscle before finding the hardening nipple and sucking at it.

Mustang leaned back and massaged the back of Ed’s neck with one hand enjoying the sensation. He struggled to escape the pleasurable fog in his mind. “Are you sure about this, Edward?”

“I want to be useful to you,” Ed nearly whined.

Mustang stiffened then pushed Ed away violently. The romantic mood shattered instantly. Mustang’s face hurt more than being shoved into a bookshelf; he looked betrayed. Ed realized what he’d done wrong. Ed felt like his guts had been removed.

Ed couldn’t stand being looked at with those eyes and Mustang couldn’t stand looking at him anymore. Mustang left, dragging his coat from the rack, pulling it after him. He didn’t even attempt to slam the door.

Ed sat there at the base of the bookshelf without moving.

-----

Ed left; it wasn’t his home. Mustang should have ordered him out rather than storming out himself. At least Mustang could go home without finding him there now.

He walked toward the city and just walked; no destination in mind. He started going down back allies as if he was asking to be attacked. He still had his fighting skill, but he still felt helpless without his alchemy. He deserved whatever any ruffian did to him.

Twice he was nearly attacked, but people remembered him and backed off the moment they recognized him; he and his brother were the only ones in the world with gold hair and eyes since their father and all the people of Xerxes died. He kept walking the back allies waiting for some young kid or idiot who didn’t know him or thought they could beat him.

He found his way to a brothel. He was left feeling like a whore, so he decided to go in. It seemed like a nice place, more like a bar except there were a lot of women. The women looked at him, obviously judging that he might be too young and they didn’t approach him. He went to the bar.

“Aren’t you a little young to be coming into a place like this?”

Ed dug out his ID and gave it to the Madam; she only looked at the date of birth, ignoring the name.

“Little short for a nineteen year old.” Ed was too depressed to do more than glare. “What you interested in, hon?”

“I feel like shit.”

“Whiskey.” She poured him a jigger of whiskey. “Want to talk about it, hon?”

“I did something really stupid. I’m in love and I came off like a comm—” He just remembered where he was.

“I get it. Told you to get out?”

“Shoved me a way and stormed out. Nearly broke my ribs.”

Ed sipped at the whiskey, recoiled at the taste. “Strong, but you look like you need it.”

Ed sipped again. “I think I lost the most important person to me right now.”

“Does she love you?”

Ed squirmed a little. “He. I don’t know.”

“What actually happened? I have a bit of experience and knowledge in these things you know.”

“We finally kissed. And then I said something stupid. And he pushed me away.”

“May I ask what you said?”

“That I wanted to be useful to him.”

“That was stupid. I’d say from his reaction that he does love you.”

“Not now.”

“Humm. It really depends on you now. Explain what you meant and assure him you love him. I wouldn’t try to kiss him for a while; he’ll take it the wrong way.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve been here a long time and served a lot of drinks to a lot of despondent lovers. Madame Christmas can solve any problem!”

There was something about that exaggerated pose that reminded him of a larky Roy Mustang. Ed felt compelled to introduce himself to someone who seemed to genuinely want to help him.

“My name’s Edward Elric.”

“Elric, one of the Elric brothers? Little Roy would always talk about you. He seemed to have lost contact with you the last few years. Have you told him you were in Central?”

“Are talking about Roy Mustang?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, he knows I’m here. He comes here a lot?”

“Not for the reason you might think. A few of these girls are more like sisters to him. You should go talk to him, he can solve any problem.”

“Like you?”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, maybe not exactly. Little Roy is my adopted son. Real name’s Chris Mustang.”

Ed couldn’t keep his chin from hitting his chest.

“Not something he advertises; wouldn’t do for the fuehrer to be the son of a Madame. His mother was the most beautiful woman; he looks just like her. His father was a State Alchemist; well, we assume so. She was the Lady of Central. Even the bigwigs had a hard time seeing her. She was divine; a living piece of art. To the rest of the city she was cold and emotionless, but she was the kindest creature. She looked out for the other girls. When she found out she was pregnant, she took a trip to the country. About a year later, she came back. This is the only life most of us know.

“She simply adored him. We all did, but he was her jewel. And he adored her as well. No matter what was wrong, one look at her face and he stopped crying. And no matter how low she felt, she could look at him and smile. Beautiful relationship.

“He was about five when she died. I’d taken over the brothel a year before and decided to adopt him. I made sure he got a good education and helped find him an alchemy teacher. He was a natural at alchemy. Probably not a prodigy, but good at it. As a teenager he came in handy as an additional bouncer.

“He really took after his mother, as kind as she was. Brilliant too. I was so glad he came back from Ishval alright. And as a hero no less. And with a goal. He is as determined as any man I’ve ever known. I see that people follow him and adore him as much as we all did.”

“He does know how to inspire loyalty. And he is kind. Not many know that though.”

Everything Roy had said to him that first night came back to him: Brilliant, determined, kind, protective . . . they were a lot alike. Both orphans of mothers they adored, fathers were absent alchemists, skilled at alchemy . . .

“I think he’s a bit too sensitive to betrayal though,” Ed muttered.

Her eyes lit with understanding. But before she could say anything, the door opened and the man himself walked in. He was set upon by three women and he didn’t see Ed. He was practically dragging the three girls with him to the bar, his attention on them and not on who else was at the bar.

“Whiskey?” His adopted mother offered.

“Yeah, thank you.” He was flirting with the girls in a way that made Ed very uncomfortable, but he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous.

Madame Christmas put down her son’s drink and his eyes swept around the bar and he spotted Ed. Their eyes met. The glass never made it to his lips.

“Girls, you all have the rest of the night off. Shoo, shoo.” Madame Christmas herded the girls out, leaving the two men alone.

Mustang found his voice once they were alone. “What are you doing here?”

“I felt like a whore so I came here.”

“Are you serious?”

“Somewhat. I didn’t mean it that way; I do love you. I guess I could’ve chosen my words more carefully.”

“I may have overacted,” Mustang admitted.

“My ribs are still together.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. Maybe I should go back to Resembool.”

“No. It’s my fault. I could have handled all this better. It seemed like as soon as you resigned, I washed my hands of you and your brother. I’m sorry. I should have seen this all coming.”

“All of this?”

“Your breakdown at least. I feel responsible for it.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have prevented it. I am sorry I overreacted, but I’ve fallen in love with you. I felt like I was just a way to . . . feel, to . . .” Mustang struggled for the right word. “For self punishment.” Mustang’s lips flinched with a wry smile which quickly faded. “To feel useful, needed. I felt used.”

Ed hung his head. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention. But you are partially right. I’m so fucked up right now. I do want to feel something other than sadness and loneliness. I do want to feel used in a sort of . . . masochistic way. But I love you. It wasn’t my intention to use you.”

“Hawkeye told me that you were probably too confused to be starting a relationship. I shouldn’t have given in my own desire. I knew we should have taken this a lot slower. This is all my fault.” Mustang rubbed his face.

“No, I—”

“Neither of us is perfect.” Mustang threw back the glass of whiskey. “Let’s go home.”

“I didn’t pay or thank your—”

Mustang smirked. “You can thank my mother later.”

-----

When they got home, Ed strayed to the sofa and started to untie his hair.

“The bed’s big enough for two. I think we proved that already.”

Ed looked back at him. It seemed strange that just a few hours ago Mustang had pushed him away nearly violently enough to break his ribs and looked at him with such disgust. But Ed gave a little half smile and followed Mustang to the bedroom.

They both lay nearer the middle and lay still for a few minutes, neither of them falling asleep. Ed lay on his side facing away from Mustang while Mustang lay on his back. Mustang looked over at the blond and tentatively turned to put an arm over the younger man. Ed nestled back into Mustang’s body. Ed never slept better.

TBC

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I read recently that Chris Mustang is Roy’s father’s younger sister, but whatever. Ed married Winrey and had two kids, so . . . My story, my details.