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whiskeycoffeeTitle: Some Other Beginning
Author: m.jules
Rating: Hard R for the whole thing
Summary: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Alphonse Elric helps Roy Mustang face life after more tragedy than one man should endure and finds something for himself in the process.
Pairing: mainly Roy/Al, with hints of and references to others. (Including, but not limited to, Ed/Winry, Al/Paninya, Gracia/Maes/Roy/Riza, and Al/Elicia.)
Disclaimer: Arakawa would KILL me. I bow low in supplication.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be "The Story That Proves In-Character Roy/Al Is Possible." Don't know if it worked. For my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
7stages claim, prompt "New every morning."
This is manga-verse, with every chapter yet released and scanlated as fair game for spoilers and many liberties taken as far as speculation about the future. If you want to know how Al got his body back, Yet Gentle and The Frost of Awakening can be considered my default answer to that question for now at least.
I am posting one chapter every Monday. Previous chapters can be found here.
As always, thanks to my marvelous betas (who are so very patient with this) and to everyone reading. For the latter, hey, guess what! We're finally getting to the fun stuff. ...Sort of.
As a note of interest (or not), the title of this chapter was actually the original title of the story. This because all the scenes that the boys told me about early on tied into Roy's roses and all seemed to take place in the morning with the dew still on the ground. I was vaguely horrified by the title and told my muses I wasn't going to take them seriously until they came up with something that sounded less like it would be published by Harlequin and more like something I wouldn't be ashamed of. I wonder, sometimes, if there was something deliberate in the fact that the next title they suggested goes by the initials "SOB."
Al stared into the fire, the slightly bitter aftertaste of red wine lingering against his tongue, book open and forgotten in his lap. On the sofa across from Al, with his bad leg stretched out over the cushions and a book in his lap, Roy glanced at him over the rims of his reading glasses.
“Alphonse?”
The murmur was all but lost in the crackling of the firewood and Al knew he could ignore it without repercussion, but his eyes flicked over to his companion, inviting him to continue.
“You look preoccupied. Is everything all right?”
Al couldn’t help but smile at Roy’s concern, expressed so seriously in that deep, rumbling voice. The wine and the warmth of the fire had lulled him into a contemplative mood touched with whimsy and he couldn’t help thinking that the sound of Roy’s voice made him feel safe. It was an odd thought, one that he didn’t feel like examining too closely, but he accepted the truth of it.
He became aware that Roy was still watching him, expecting an answer, and hummed softly in response. “Yes, thank you,” he said. “I was just thinking.”
There was silence for a moment but Roy didn’t return his attention to the book he had propped on his thighs, instead watching Al, still over the edge of his glasses. Al had the fleeting thought that the spectacles looked good on the man but was distracted by bittersweet memories of another man in glasses they’d both known. Sympathy for Roy mixed with his own sorrow. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose two lovers so close together. He hoped he would never have to know.
“Were the thoughts private or shareable?” Roy asked quietly and Al started a little as he realized that Roy seemed to be begging conversation as a hungry boy might beg bread. He hadn’t thought of the loneliness that must creep in even when the violence of loss was mostly quiet. He held his place in the book with his finger as he allowed it to fall closed, signaling the turning of his attention to Mustang.
“They’re not private but I’m afraid they weren’t terribly interesting either,” Al smiled. “I was mostly drifting, thinking of things that need to be done tomorrow.”
“That reminds me,” Roy began, sounding hesitant as he slid a ribbon into his own text and closing it. Al’s eyebrows arched at the tone. “Your brother called while you were in town. He said he’s coming in tomorrow and he wants to see you.”
Al got the distinct feeling that Roy was avoiding some detail or another but another thought took precedence. “You have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.” He loved his brother and he hadn’t seen him in several weeks – Ed had moved back to Resembool a couple of months ago while Al had chosen to stay in Central to take care of Roy – but he had responsibilities.
Roy’s brow creased and he shook his head. “It’s all right, I already took care of that. Someone else will drive me. You need to see Edward.”
Al wondered at the brief curl of protest in his chest as if he took umbrage at one part of that or another. He didn’t resent spending the day with his brother but he thought he might dislike being ordered around in such a fashion. He was used to taking care of daily household matters; he’d been doing it for eleven months now. Having the tables turned on him, having his plans made for him, didn’t sit well.
Still, there wasn’t anything he could really argue with. He did want to see Edward to learn how things were going back home if nothing else. He only hoped he could keep his brother from asking him yet again why he couldn’t let someone else – a professional home nurse, for example – take care of Roy so Al could move back to Resembool. He couldn’t seem to get it through Ed's head that he couldn’t stomach doing that to Roy. Mustang had lost almost everything dear and familiar to him; Al hated the thought of leaving his care to a total stranger.
He took a sip of wine to cover his lingering annoyance with the sudden change of plans and asked casually, “Who’s driving you?”
“Fuery,” Roy answered, a spark of fondness in his eyes. Al had noticed that the man had become almost sentimental about his former subordinates. It wasn’t anything new but this time he felt another bitter twist in his stomach and wondered at it. Maybe he’d had too much wine and it was disagreeing with him.
“Did Ed say what time he’d be here?”
“His train arrives at eleven. Fuery and I can drop you at the station if you’d like, or you can hire a taxi.” Roy set his book aside, fingering the stem of his own wine glass. Al noticed again Roy’s uneasiness and wondered at it, but his mind was fuzzy from the drink and he didn’t feel like trying to figure it out.
Al nodded. “I’ll probably take a taxi,” he said. “The train station isn’t anywhere near your doctor’s office; there’s no reason you should go out of your way.” He wondered if he sounded as sulky as he thought he did and frowned. What was wrong with him anyway?
Apparently his emotions were bleeding through, at least enough that Roy noticed, as the other man studied him quizzically for a moment. He got the feeling Mustang wanted to ask him what was wrong but the question never came. Al was grateful; he didn’t have an answer.
“It’s getting late, Alphonse,” Roy finally said, searching around for his canes and getting to his feet. “I think I’ll retire for the night.” Al had noticed Roy was relying more on just one cane lately and thought the doctor might tell him that he could do away with the second one. He felt ever so slightly cheated that he wouldn’t be there to hear the news himself and shook himself mentally. The wine had definitely put him in an odd frame of mind. Maybe tomorrow he’d be more excited about seeing Ed again and less annoyed at having his routine interrupted.
He nodded, feeling bad for having not been a good conversation partner for his friend. “Do you need any help?” He knew the answer would be the same as it had been for months, but he always asked anyway. When Roy shook his head, Al leaned back in the armchair, picking at the corner of his book. “I’ll clean up before I go to bed,” he said, indicating the wine bottle and Roy’s glass. He could tell Roy had been trying to figure out how to carry the glass into the kitchen despite having both hands taken up by the canes. Al appreciated the gesture but knew it wasn’t feasible. He’d be cleaning up broken glass.
“Good night, Alphonse,” Roy murmured as he passed the younger man on the way to the stairs.
“Good night,” Al answered absently, his attention already turning inward again. Alphonse sat up late into the night, staring into the fire. He didn’t go to bed until all that was left was embers and ash and the lingering smell of smoke.
Al bit back another yawn - his third in as many minutes - and Ed looked at him strangely. Al thought wryly that something was definitely wrong with him when even Ed was noticing. He'd awakened early that morning -- he never slept well when he'd had too much wine; it made him restless and uneasy even in his sleep -- with scratchy eyes and a dry mouth. The things that happened afterward had been keeping him preoccupied the entire time he'd been with Ed and he had to keep bringing himself back to the present.
"You okay, Al?" Ed asked, looking uncomfortable with the very question. The sound of Ed's boot scuffing the floor underneath their table brought a smile to Al's face. His brother had never been one for sitting still, especially when there were personal issues afoot.
"I'm fine," Al assured him. "Just didn't sleep very well last night."
Ed's expression sharpened as he leaned in, golden bangs falling into his tawny eyes. "Mustang?"
Just after Roy's release from the hospital, Ed had stayed with Al, helping care for the man. They'd found out early on that in order to keep the peace, Ed needed to stay out of Mustang's sight, taking care of other things to make it easier for Al. Ed lacked a certain gentleness to his manner that Alphonse possessed in spades, so the younger was left to deal directly with the injured man. However, Ed had been woken by Roy's nightmares as often as Al -- if only because Al shook him awake -- and knew how tiring the day after a particularly bad night could be.
Al shook his head. "No, he only has nightmares every few weeks now." He shrugged. "I don't know what was wrong." It wasn't exactly a lie but it wasn't the whole truth either. His hands shook as he remembered the revelation he'd had that morning and he curled his fingers around his teacup to disguise the tremor.
He'd shuffled downstairs to find water and the mild painkiller herbs in the back of the cabinet and had glanced out the glass doors at the rosebush they'd planted a week and a half earlier. There was a flawless bud opening in the sunlight, the fruit of an array Roy had designed with Al's help, and he'd gone outside to see it as if drawn by an invisible hand. It was perhaps the most perfect rose he'd ever seen but at the rate it was opening, there was a good chance it would have dropped all its petals by the time Roy saw it. There were still some things to be tweaked in their alchemical theory.
Carefully, he'd cut the rose from the stalk and carried it inside. A tiny glass made a fine vase but the flower was still opening too quickly to leave it where it was. It hadn't taken long to make some toast and tea and put it on a tray that he took up to Roy's room.
"Breakfast in bed?" Roy had asked blearily as he sat up, blinking. "Why?"
Al had gestured to the flower and Roy had come to full awareness in the space of two blinks. "Is that from our rosebush?" Wonder and delight spread over Roy's face as unguarded as a young child's, and Al's heart had flipped in his chest. He'd had the sudden urge to push his fingers into Roy's hair, to cup his head and give him the kind of giddy kiss he used to share with Paninya. He'd been so alarmed by the realization of this impulse that he'd fled the room, muttering some excuse about the bathroom or the stove or something. He desperately hoped he hadn't muddled them together.
He hadn't seen Roy again before the taxi had taken him to the station to meet Ed, but his mind had been spinning ever since. He'd realized that had been why he'd felt out of sorts the night before; he'd actually been jealous. Jealous that someone else was taking care of Roy, that he was being replaced, as it were. He'd realized, too, that this feeling of possessiveness wasn't a new development. What, exactly, to do with it was another matter. Roy had never given him any indication that the emotions were mutual.
"Al?" Ed's voice pulled him out of his reverie and he started guiltily.
"Sorry," he muttered, ducking his head and taking a long sip of his tea that had cooled considerably while they'd been sitting at the table outside the cafe. "Drifted off."
"I'll say." Ed sounded particularly sulky and Al looked at him closely, picking up something he hadn't noticed before in his preoccupation.
"Brother?" he drawled with that peculiar tone meant to draw out whatever secrets Ed was doing such a poor job of hiding.
"What?" The sulk was even more pronounced and Al sat back in his chair with a wide grin. Oh, yes, it was a juicy secret indeed.
"Do you have something to tell me?"
Ed fidgeted, pushing a few lonely crumbs around on his empty plate. "About what?"
Al very nearly laughed. "Well, you would be the one to know that."
Ed cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. Al could tell it was torturing him not to be up and pacing about. "I, um..." He coughed again, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Aw, hell, Al. Winry's gonna kill me." Al's eyebrows shot up but he didn't give an inch, keeping his gaze fixed on his brother. "I, um... we're... dammit. Winry and I are getting married."
Al stood so quickly he nearly toppled his chair. "That -- that's -- congratulations, Brother!" He darted around the table and pulled Ed onto his feet so he could embrace him enthusiastically. "When?"
"At the end of summer," Ed said, grinning sheepishly as color flooded his cheeks. "Winry wanted to tell you, too, but she couldn't leave Resembool and I wanted you to know in time to come back for the wedding." He tilted his head. "You know, by then, you could probably come home for good. There's enough room out there you could build a house not far from ours."
Al's expression plunged into sudden seriousness. While he loved his brother and Winry, the thought of living as an extension of them held no appeal. He wanted his own life, whatever that might entail, and they deserved to have their own lives, too. In that moment, he acknowledged that he had already been building a new life and that Roy Mustang had insinuated himself as a large part of it. With things the way they were, he couldn't see himself leaving Central. Even if nothing happened with Roy, even if these new feelings were just temporary insanity and faded before anything came of them, his life was here, at least for now. He shook his head. "I don't think so, Ed. Not right now."
Ed's expression fell just a little, though he hid it quickly, and Al clapped him on the shoulder, sending him a bright grin. "I think I'd rather be kept awake by Roy's nightmares than by hearing you and Winry finally going at it."
Ed turned bright red all the way to the roots of his hair. "AL!" he protested, and Al laughed, throwing his head back.
"You know there's years of unresolved sexual tension there. I doubt Resembool will survive the impact." The sparkle in Al's eyes was positively devilish, and Ed ducked his head and muttered so quietly Al almost missed it.
"Not unresolved anymore."
Al nearly crowed. "It's about damn time!"
Ed shushed him then looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Payback, Al thought gleefully, for all the times Ed embarrassed him in public. "Keep it down, you idiot," Ed grumbled. "I don't really want news of... of... anyway, all of Central doesn't need to hear it." Al bit back a remark about Ed being remarkably repressed for a man who was about to be married, and Ed looked at him from under his bangs. "You are coming to the wedding, though?"
Al's smile softened. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Author: m.jules
Rating: Hard R for the whole thing
Summary: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Alphonse Elric helps Roy Mustang face life after more tragedy than one man should endure and finds something for himself in the process.
Pairing: mainly Roy/Al, with hints of and references to others. (Including, but not limited to, Ed/Winry, Al/Paninya, Gracia/Maes/Roy/Riza, and Al/Elicia.)
Disclaimer: Arakawa would KILL me. I bow low in supplication.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be "The Story That Proves In-Character Roy/Al Is Possible." Don't know if it worked. For my
7stages claim, prompt "New every morning." This is manga-verse, with every chapter yet released and scanlated as fair game for spoilers and many liberties taken as far as speculation about the future. If you want to know how Al got his body back, Yet Gentle and The Frost of Awakening can be considered my default answer to that question for now at least.
I am posting one chapter every Monday. Previous chapters can be found here.
As always, thanks to my marvelous betas (who are so very patient with this) and to everyone reading. For the latter, hey, guess what! We're finally getting to the fun stuff. ...Sort of.
As a note of interest (or not), the title of this chapter was actually the original title of the story. This because all the scenes that the boys told me about early on tied into Roy's roses and all seemed to take place in the morning with the dew still on the ground. I was vaguely horrified by the title and told my muses I wasn't going to take them seriously until they came up with something that sounded less like it would be published by Harlequin and more like something I wouldn't be ashamed of. I wonder, sometimes, if there was something deliberate in the fact that the next title they suggested goes by the initials "SOB."
Al stared into the fire, the slightly bitter aftertaste of red wine lingering against his tongue, book open and forgotten in his lap. On the sofa across from Al, with his bad leg stretched out over the cushions and a book in his lap, Roy glanced at him over the rims of his reading glasses.
“Alphonse?”
The murmur was all but lost in the crackling of the firewood and Al knew he could ignore it without repercussion, but his eyes flicked over to his companion, inviting him to continue.
“You look preoccupied. Is everything all right?”
Al couldn’t help but smile at Roy’s concern, expressed so seriously in that deep, rumbling voice. The wine and the warmth of the fire had lulled him into a contemplative mood touched with whimsy and he couldn’t help thinking that the sound of Roy’s voice made him feel safe. It was an odd thought, one that he didn’t feel like examining too closely, but he accepted the truth of it.
He became aware that Roy was still watching him, expecting an answer, and hummed softly in response. “Yes, thank you,” he said. “I was just thinking.”
There was silence for a moment but Roy didn’t return his attention to the book he had propped on his thighs, instead watching Al, still over the edge of his glasses. Al had the fleeting thought that the spectacles looked good on the man but was distracted by bittersweet memories of another man in glasses they’d both known. Sympathy for Roy mixed with his own sorrow. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose two lovers so close together. He hoped he would never have to know.
“Were the thoughts private or shareable?” Roy asked quietly and Al started a little as he realized that Roy seemed to be begging conversation as a hungry boy might beg bread. He hadn’t thought of the loneliness that must creep in even when the violence of loss was mostly quiet. He held his place in the book with his finger as he allowed it to fall closed, signaling the turning of his attention to Mustang.
“They’re not private but I’m afraid they weren’t terribly interesting either,” Al smiled. “I was mostly drifting, thinking of things that need to be done tomorrow.”
“That reminds me,” Roy began, sounding hesitant as he slid a ribbon into his own text and closing it. Al’s eyebrows arched at the tone. “Your brother called while you were in town. He said he’s coming in tomorrow and he wants to see you.”
Al got the distinct feeling that Roy was avoiding some detail or another but another thought took precedence. “You have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.” He loved his brother and he hadn’t seen him in several weeks – Ed had moved back to Resembool a couple of months ago while Al had chosen to stay in Central to take care of Roy – but he had responsibilities.
Roy’s brow creased and he shook his head. “It’s all right, I already took care of that. Someone else will drive me. You need to see Edward.”
Al wondered at the brief curl of protest in his chest as if he took umbrage at one part of that or another. He didn’t resent spending the day with his brother but he thought he might dislike being ordered around in such a fashion. He was used to taking care of daily household matters; he’d been doing it for eleven months now. Having the tables turned on him, having his plans made for him, didn’t sit well.
Still, there wasn’t anything he could really argue with. He did want to see Edward to learn how things were going back home if nothing else. He only hoped he could keep his brother from asking him yet again why he couldn’t let someone else – a professional home nurse, for example – take care of Roy so Al could move back to Resembool. He couldn’t seem to get it through Ed's head that he couldn’t stomach doing that to Roy. Mustang had lost almost everything dear and familiar to him; Al hated the thought of leaving his care to a total stranger.
He took a sip of wine to cover his lingering annoyance with the sudden change of plans and asked casually, “Who’s driving you?”
“Fuery,” Roy answered, a spark of fondness in his eyes. Al had noticed that the man had become almost sentimental about his former subordinates. It wasn’t anything new but this time he felt another bitter twist in his stomach and wondered at it. Maybe he’d had too much wine and it was disagreeing with him.
“Did Ed say what time he’d be here?”
“His train arrives at eleven. Fuery and I can drop you at the station if you’d like, or you can hire a taxi.” Roy set his book aside, fingering the stem of his own wine glass. Al noticed again Roy’s uneasiness and wondered at it, but his mind was fuzzy from the drink and he didn’t feel like trying to figure it out.
Al nodded. “I’ll probably take a taxi,” he said. “The train station isn’t anywhere near your doctor’s office; there’s no reason you should go out of your way.” He wondered if he sounded as sulky as he thought he did and frowned. What was wrong with him anyway?
Apparently his emotions were bleeding through, at least enough that Roy noticed, as the other man studied him quizzically for a moment. He got the feeling Mustang wanted to ask him what was wrong but the question never came. Al was grateful; he didn’t have an answer.
“It’s getting late, Alphonse,” Roy finally said, searching around for his canes and getting to his feet. “I think I’ll retire for the night.” Al had noticed Roy was relying more on just one cane lately and thought the doctor might tell him that he could do away with the second one. He felt ever so slightly cheated that he wouldn’t be there to hear the news himself and shook himself mentally. The wine had definitely put him in an odd frame of mind. Maybe tomorrow he’d be more excited about seeing Ed again and less annoyed at having his routine interrupted.
He nodded, feeling bad for having not been a good conversation partner for his friend. “Do you need any help?” He knew the answer would be the same as it had been for months, but he always asked anyway. When Roy shook his head, Al leaned back in the armchair, picking at the corner of his book. “I’ll clean up before I go to bed,” he said, indicating the wine bottle and Roy’s glass. He could tell Roy had been trying to figure out how to carry the glass into the kitchen despite having both hands taken up by the canes. Al appreciated the gesture but knew it wasn’t feasible. He’d be cleaning up broken glass.
“Good night, Alphonse,” Roy murmured as he passed the younger man on the way to the stairs.
“Good night,” Al answered absently, his attention already turning inward again. Alphonse sat up late into the night, staring into the fire. He didn’t go to bed until all that was left was embers and ash and the lingering smell of smoke.
Al bit back another yawn - his third in as many minutes - and Ed looked at him strangely. Al thought wryly that something was definitely wrong with him when even Ed was noticing. He'd awakened early that morning -- he never slept well when he'd had too much wine; it made him restless and uneasy even in his sleep -- with scratchy eyes and a dry mouth. The things that happened afterward had been keeping him preoccupied the entire time he'd been with Ed and he had to keep bringing himself back to the present.
"You okay, Al?" Ed asked, looking uncomfortable with the very question. The sound of Ed's boot scuffing the floor underneath their table brought a smile to Al's face. His brother had never been one for sitting still, especially when there were personal issues afoot.
"I'm fine," Al assured him. "Just didn't sleep very well last night."
Ed's expression sharpened as he leaned in, golden bangs falling into his tawny eyes. "Mustang?"
Just after Roy's release from the hospital, Ed had stayed with Al, helping care for the man. They'd found out early on that in order to keep the peace, Ed needed to stay out of Mustang's sight, taking care of other things to make it easier for Al. Ed lacked a certain gentleness to his manner that Alphonse possessed in spades, so the younger was left to deal directly with the injured man. However, Ed had been woken by Roy's nightmares as often as Al -- if only because Al shook him awake -- and knew how tiring the day after a particularly bad night could be.
Al shook his head. "No, he only has nightmares every few weeks now." He shrugged. "I don't know what was wrong." It wasn't exactly a lie but it wasn't the whole truth either. His hands shook as he remembered the revelation he'd had that morning and he curled his fingers around his teacup to disguise the tremor.
He'd shuffled downstairs to find water and the mild painkiller herbs in the back of the cabinet and had glanced out the glass doors at the rosebush they'd planted a week and a half earlier. There was a flawless bud opening in the sunlight, the fruit of an array Roy had designed with Al's help, and he'd gone outside to see it as if drawn by an invisible hand. It was perhaps the most perfect rose he'd ever seen but at the rate it was opening, there was a good chance it would have dropped all its petals by the time Roy saw it. There were still some things to be tweaked in their alchemical theory.
Carefully, he'd cut the rose from the stalk and carried it inside. A tiny glass made a fine vase but the flower was still opening too quickly to leave it where it was. It hadn't taken long to make some toast and tea and put it on a tray that he took up to Roy's room.
"Breakfast in bed?" Roy had asked blearily as he sat up, blinking. "Why?"
Al had gestured to the flower and Roy had come to full awareness in the space of two blinks. "Is that from our rosebush?" Wonder and delight spread over Roy's face as unguarded as a young child's, and Al's heart had flipped in his chest. He'd had the sudden urge to push his fingers into Roy's hair, to cup his head and give him the kind of giddy kiss he used to share with Paninya. He'd been so alarmed by the realization of this impulse that he'd fled the room, muttering some excuse about the bathroom or the stove or something. He desperately hoped he hadn't muddled them together.
He hadn't seen Roy again before the taxi had taken him to the station to meet Ed, but his mind had been spinning ever since. He'd realized that had been why he'd felt out of sorts the night before; he'd actually been jealous. Jealous that someone else was taking care of Roy, that he was being replaced, as it were. He'd realized, too, that this feeling of possessiveness wasn't a new development. What, exactly, to do with it was another matter. Roy had never given him any indication that the emotions were mutual.
"Al?" Ed's voice pulled him out of his reverie and he started guiltily.
"Sorry," he muttered, ducking his head and taking a long sip of his tea that had cooled considerably while they'd been sitting at the table outside the cafe. "Drifted off."
"I'll say." Ed sounded particularly sulky and Al looked at him closely, picking up something he hadn't noticed before in his preoccupation.
"Brother?" he drawled with that peculiar tone meant to draw out whatever secrets Ed was doing such a poor job of hiding.
"What?" The sulk was even more pronounced and Al sat back in his chair with a wide grin. Oh, yes, it was a juicy secret indeed.
"Do you have something to tell me?"
Ed fidgeted, pushing a few lonely crumbs around on his empty plate. "About what?"
Al very nearly laughed. "Well, you would be the one to know that."
Ed cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. Al could tell it was torturing him not to be up and pacing about. "I, um..." He coughed again, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Aw, hell, Al. Winry's gonna kill me." Al's eyebrows shot up but he didn't give an inch, keeping his gaze fixed on his brother. "I, um... we're... dammit. Winry and I are getting married."
Al stood so quickly he nearly toppled his chair. "That -- that's -- congratulations, Brother!" He darted around the table and pulled Ed onto his feet so he could embrace him enthusiastically. "When?"
"At the end of summer," Ed said, grinning sheepishly as color flooded his cheeks. "Winry wanted to tell you, too, but she couldn't leave Resembool and I wanted you to know in time to come back for the wedding." He tilted his head. "You know, by then, you could probably come home for good. There's enough room out there you could build a house not far from ours."
Al's expression plunged into sudden seriousness. While he loved his brother and Winry, the thought of living as an extension of them held no appeal. He wanted his own life, whatever that might entail, and they deserved to have their own lives, too. In that moment, he acknowledged that he had already been building a new life and that Roy Mustang had insinuated himself as a large part of it. With things the way they were, he couldn't see himself leaving Central. Even if nothing happened with Roy, even if these new feelings were just temporary insanity and faded before anything came of them, his life was here, at least for now. He shook his head. "I don't think so, Ed. Not right now."
Ed's expression fell just a little, though he hid it quickly, and Al clapped him on the shoulder, sending him a bright grin. "I think I'd rather be kept awake by Roy's nightmares than by hearing you and Winry finally going at it."
Ed turned bright red all the way to the roots of his hair. "AL!" he protested, and Al laughed, throwing his head back.
"You know there's years of unresolved sexual tension there. I doubt Resembool will survive the impact." The sparkle in Al's eyes was positively devilish, and Ed ducked his head and muttered so quietly Al almost missed it.
"Not unresolved anymore."
Al nearly crowed. "It's about damn time!"
Ed shushed him then looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Payback, Al thought gleefully, for all the times Ed embarrassed him in public. "Keep it down, you idiot," Ed grumbled. "I don't really want news of... of... anyway, all of Central doesn't need to hear it." Al bit back a remark about Ed being remarkably repressed for a man who was about to be married, and Ed looked at him from under his bangs. "You are coming to the wedding, though?"
Al's smile softened. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."
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