Closer part VII Closer part VII Beta: All love to toxicbullets! For without her I just quiver a lot, really. Rating: R Disclaimer: Obv not mine (v brief disclaimer ^^;) Summary: Roy is more obvious than he means to be, Ed is indecisive, and there is much paper. All other parts are in my memories. If loving you is so wrong, then I don't wanna be right. - Millie Jackson, (If Loving You is Wrong) I Don't Want to be Right Ed had read every book on the subject he could get his hands on, once he finally took the time to notice that what was happening between Mustang and him really was happening. Mostly it was library books he'd had to check over quickly while Al wasn't looking, because Al wouldn't understand his brother's very sudden U-turn in his interest of human sexuality. Most books, however, had been very unhelpful. Neither party involved was female, descriptions of sexually transmitted diseases were just plain scary, and most of the 'what to do if you happen to fall for someone of the same sex' texts he came across just made him feel bad inside. He was pretty certain they were complete bullshit but it seemed like nothing could stop the slow swim of his stomach, the sinking of uncertainty and nausea. He didn't believe in God, so the religious idiots could shut up. He never listened to anyone's opinion except Al's, so everyone else could fuck off. But at the same time - At the same time he didn't know what he was doing, and a confident voice saying This is wrong, you are wrong, this is a disease, you must not feel this or want this left a prickle of unease he couldn't quite get rid of. He'd sinned so much already, it just seemed to fit the pattern that he was doing it again . . . Not that the Colonel - Roy - had cared. He was uneasy about Ed's age, and his own position, but the last thing he seemed worried about was that they both carried the same physical equipment. Ed didn't see why it had to be a problem if no-one else made it a problem. It was just him and Roy. Everyone else could fuck off and leave them alone, none of their business, it was difficult enough without other people butting in. He dreamed that Roy was reading a description of gonorrhoea from one of the books Ed had briefly read, while he was fucking him from behind over a library desk. Because it was a dream what Ed was mostly concerned with was how Roy was holding the book open and gripping both of his hips at once, unless he'd memorised the passage - When he woke up he had other worries entirely, like keeping perfectly still and hoping like hell he hadn't made any noise or movement in his sleep, anything to attract his brother's attention, because that dream had woken certain parts of his body quite drastically . . . He listened for Al turning a page, took in a deep breath - one, two, three - leapt out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom. "Brother?" Al yelped. "Gotta pee!" Ed wailed, slamming the door behind himself. God, he hated being fifteen. He hated it. * Roy would never, never tell Ed that he didn't quite - not 100%, not entirely - trust Ed's impulse-control issues inside the office. This was a test. He didn't know what he'd do if Ed 'failed'. He didn't want to think about it. He woke up without Ed and went through his morning without Ed and only the little snatch of Ed he had had last night made it all seem like a good morning at all. First Lieutenant Hawkeye accompanied him to the library, and he knew she was a dangerous choice - Hawkeye noticed everything - but he needed to know, for all the times when he and Ed would have to interact in front of officials with power over them both, that Ed could keep his desires to himself. He didn't want him to - he found Ed's emotional immediacy completely intoxicating, sometimes he almost let himself get carried away on the tide of Ed's rage or joy or frustration (or lust) - but he needed him to, for Ed's sake even more than his own, and that was what mattered. Ed and Al had taken over a corner of the reading room, had made a little wall of books around themselves, and while Al looked up at the clean click of approaching military boots Ed remained hunched low over his book, eyes wide and fascinated, tracking the page smoothly. "Good morning, um, Colonel, Lieutenant." Al said, cheerfully if a little nervously, and looked at his brother. Ed turned the page and continued reading like he was the only person in the room. "Brother's a little bit . . . busy, now. Do you need to talk to him?" "If that's possible, Alphonse." Al sighed, and said, "Brother. Brother, the Colonel's here. Brother." Ed squinted at one sentence as if he was angry with it but didn't look up for a moment. "Brother," Al said more loudly, and put one large hand between Ed's eyes and the page. Ed made a frustrated noise and raised the book over Al's glove, craning his head back so his braid thumped off the back of his chair, eyes narrowed now as he read. Roy wondered if the boy needed glasses; it was an odd image, but one he found he rather liked. Al finally put his hands over his brother's on the book and forced it closed - he had some trouble with the automail, and Ed ducked closer to keep reading right up until there was so little opening left he nearly lost his nose - and then Ed sat back so quickly the book slammed and dropped to the floor. "What? What, Al, what? I was-" The librarian, from the desk in the centre of the room, made a hissing noise of obscene fury, and Ed scowled in her direction before hissing more quietly at Al, "What?" "The Colonel is here to see you, brother." Al said, and bent with a clank of metal to pick up the book. "You're completely impossible sometimes . . ." "I'm not-" Ed suddenly seemed to realize what Al had actually said, and glanced up at Roy, then at Hawkeye, then back to Roy, eyes narrowed again, this time with distrust. "What do you want?" he said. Roy had half expected to meet an embarrassed, shy Edward after last night. He didn't know where he'd got that idea from. Clearly he wasn't getting enough sleep if he thought Ed would ever be shy about anything. "Good morning to you too, Fullmetal." "Yeah, whatever." Ed took the book from Al again and weighed it in his hand as if considering what impact it would make on Roy's head. "What are you here for? I'm busy." "We're all busy men, Fullmetal." "Hm," Ed said, head tilted suspiciously, and Roy let a smirk crack through. "I've found you an assignment within the city, for once. The Ivy Alchemist unfortunately passed away last week and his research needs cataloguing for the military. You have a month for the assignment, though I doubt it will actually take that long." "A month," Ed said distastefully, putting his book on the desk to take the folder he was offered. "I'm busy." "As I said, I doubt it will take up the full month." Ed was already skimming the top sheet of paper. "Ivy Alchemist," he said quietly. Roy picked up a book from the top of the pile - A Brief Treatise on the Life-force in Plant Matter, which didn't seem at all brief by its weight - and said, "Hm? Yes. He specialised in organic alchemy. Plants, I believe, mostly." He couldn't look away as Ed's eyes were torn between complete joy and you smug bastard, how do you do it? "I'll get on it right away, sir." Ed said, and there was just the edge of a smirk to his voice. Then he picked up his book again. "One more chapter." "Brother, no, you'll be reading all day-" "So long as it's done within the month, Fullmetal." Roy murmured, as Ed shifted lower in his chair and sank into the book as easily as a bath. Roy just kept the smile off his face, nodded to Alphonse and turned to leave, Hawkeye walking silently at his side. "So we have Fullmetal out of our hair for the month," he said, once they were out of the reading room and out of earshot of the bristling librarian. "Or perhaps I should say out from under our feet." "You may want to wait until we're outside, sir. Edward's hearing is eerily acute regarding certain matters." Hawkeye murmured. The corner of Roy's mouth twitched up. "True, and yet he never quite manages to hear what you actually say . . ." Outside, to the car, and Hawkeye waited until she'd closed the door behind him and climbed into the driver's seat to say, "You seem more energetic, today, sir." With an effort Roy kept his eyebrows from climbing. "Do you think so?" She hit the indicator to turn into the street and her eyes met his, briefly, in the mirror. For half a second she looked right through him. "You seem much more relaxed with Edward back. And so long as you're in a good mood, perhaps you'll finish with those reports by this afternoon." And it was easy to moan and sink low in his seat and whine about it, but his stomach shifted, unsettled on the inside. Hawkeye saw everything. And yet what she'd seen through wasn't Ed but Roy himself . . . He'd been testing the wrong person. He hadn't fully realized, until this point, quite how much Ed's presence cracked the edges of his mask. At least he knew what he had to work on, and at least he knew that he could trust Ed to stay focused on what was important. He just had to run through his own priorities a few more times to be sure. * There was a military guard outside the Ivy Alchemist's home, who would remain there until after the notes were removed to a safer storage facility. Ed had to wave the watch at him to get past, but once he'd turned the key he'd been given in the lock and shoved hard, he still couldn't get the door to open. "You have to really push it," the guard said helpfully. Ed put his automail shoulder to the door, Al leaned over him with both hands flat, and they pushed- The door moved inwards in ...
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