FMA Roy/Ed drabbles, G

[dragonimp]

Author:dragonimp
Rating: G
Genre:Angst. I think this batch is trying to make up for all the fluff I've been posting c_c;
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Warnings: End of series spoilers if you squint.

5) Homeland

"Roy?"

"Hm?"

"Come with me."

"Ed—"

"You're invited! Winry and Granny, they want you to come." When Roy doesn't respond, he continues. "I want to show you my hometown. You've been there, but you've never seen it. I want to show you the river where we used to play on the rocks. I want to show you the general store. I bet you've never seen one, they don't have them in the city. I want—"

"Edward. . . ." Roy sighs, looking pained. "I'll consider it."

Edward is silent for a moment. "You know . . . the only one who still blames you . . . is you."

6) Hair

Ed fingers his lover's hair. The bangs are almost to the bottom of the eye patch. "You should cut your hair."

"I probably should."

"Why'd you let it go? You always used to keep it so neat."

Roy shrugs, not looking up from his book. "Not many barbers up there."

"There's plenty down here."

He turns a page. "I guess I didn't think about it."

Edward frowns, but doesn't press what he suspects is the real reason: Roy Mustang, the great womanizer, who shamelessly used his looks as both a tool and a shield, has stopped caring about his appearance.

9) Fire Wound/Scars

Edward wraps his arms around his lover, running his hands over his chest, his left hand seeking out and tracing familiar scars. Some bullet wounds. The long scars from Bradley's sword. Several from inconsequential events, such as childhood accidents. But there's one type of mark his fingers never find. "It's funny," he comments as he noses short black hair, "I always thought you'd have burn scars."

"I do." Roy sighs and wraps his own arms around Ed's. "They're just not visible."

Edward sighs in return and tightens his embrace, pressing his face to the back of his lover's neck. "Yeah."

29) Wretched/Heartless

Roy hates what he's doing, hates himself for doing it. But even more he hates the hollow, anguished look in the boy's eyes. Roy knows that look, knows better than anyone how paralyzing it can be.

Neither of them can afford that.

Hate me.

Cold, cruel, and bitingly true words come out of his mouth. They taste bitter, sharp. Anger fights its way into the boy's eyes, edges out anguish.

That's it. Hate me.

More cold, cutting truths. The boy cringes, but then glares, and runs away in disgust and anger.

Yes. Hate me. It's all I can give you.

30) Binds/Shackles

They lie awake sometimes and talk quietly in the dark. These conversations are different than any of the ones they have during the day. During the day, they're each bound. To the military, to their obligations, to their goals. By their pasts and by what they hope—need—to achieve for their futures. Daylight doesn't allow dreams, only goals and the hard, cold reality of reason.

In the dark, reality ceases to exist, and all that's important is the bed, and each other. This is the only time they allow themselves to dream.

This is why they cherish their nights.

Comments

[chrstphrl.livejournal.com]

I like them all but the last one is the best.

[dragonimp.livejournal.com]

Thanks ^_^ Glad you liked them.