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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 Sunday night/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.
And hey, guess what: even glaciers have to move sometime!
The cool spring breeze teased his bangs, lifting them off his brow so the warm sunlight could kiss his skin. Roy closed his eyes and could smell the rich, waking earth and a delicate hint of roses. Subtle songs of birds and insects' wings tickled his ears and he could taste the change of seasons whispering through the air. Another sound echoed out over the yard and Roy's eyes shot open, his head swiveling around to look toward the house. Was that the front door? He could feel a smile tugging at him, as playful as the breeze. He turned so that his friend would be able to see the absence of the second cane.
Alphonse will be so happy, the wind seemed to whisper to him and he nodded. Yes. He would be. Al was always happy to see him well. It was one of the things that kept Roy trying.
He heard his name, and was it his imagination or did Al sound worried?
"Out here, Alphonse," he called, gripping his sole cane tighter when he found that shouting managed to unbalance him slightly.
The tall young man came bursting out the back door, his coat still swinging from his broad shoulders, and Roy felt his expression soften. Alphonse had been worried. The thought warmed him strangely. He watched as Al made his way out into the back yard, a wide smile bursting across the younger Elric's face as he stepped onto the patio.
"I see you're down to just one cane," Al noted happily, nodding toward the mahogany stick.
Roy nodded, shifting his weight a little. "Dr. Weisman said to compliment you on your fine job of nursing," he said, able to restrain neither the fondness in his expression nor the mischief. "And to congratulate you for enduring me for so long."
Al gave a shaky attempt at a smile and joked weakly, "It's about time someone had pity on me for putting up with you."
Roy frowned, giving Alphonse a searching look. He couldn’t help but notice that Al seemed to be acting a little odd. He had been, Roy thought, since the night before. Al had seemed almost unhappy about seeing Ed the next day, as if it were a nuisance. Roy couldn’t believe that -- not that Ed couldn’t be a nuisance, but Al usually appreciated visits from his brother. And then at breakfast, Roy thought he had noticed a strange light in Al’s eyes just before the younger man jumped up and fled the room, saying he’d left the stove on in the bathroom.
Roy had his theories and all of them had flaws. He wondered if Al suspected Ed’s news (Ed had, somewhat hesitantly, told Roy the news and invited him to the wedding) and was upset about it for some reason or another. Was it possible that Alphonse was in love with Winry? Roy frowned. That would be a deep blow for the young man and Roy didn’t want to see him hurt.
“Alphonse?” he asked gently. “Is something the matter?”
Al’s head jerked up and Roy almost smiled. Al looked like a man who had just realized he was in a sniper’s crosshairs. “No, nothing at all,” Al chirped, and Roy arched an eyebrow. Apparently seeing that Roy was about to press further, Al smiled too-brightly and asked, “Did Ed tell you his big news?”
Curious to see if this was what was bothering Al, Roy pursued the line of conversation. “He mentioned it, yes.”
Al smiled and Roy could detect no trace of bitterness or disappointment anywhere in his expression. Either Al was a very good actor or the upcoming nuptials weren’t what had him upset. Al’s expression turned suddenly serious as he focused on Roy.
“He did invite you, didn’t he?” Al asked, sounding concerned, and Roy nodded.
“Yes, he did extend an invitation.” Roy couldn’t help but be amused when Al seemed relieved at this. Edward might not be a paragon of etiquette, but in recent years, he’d matured enough to know what breaches of good manners would likely get him a wrench to the head.
Seeing that Al had relaxed, discussion of Ed’s wedding apparently having soothed whatever was troubling him, Roy tried again. “Alphonse, are you sure everything is all right?”
Al’s eyes went wide, guilt slamming across his features as clearly as if the word had been tattooed there, and Roy began to feel distinctly uneasy. Another possibility for Al’s unusual behavior occurred to him and he felt his stomach tie into knots. Was he the reason behind the young man’s discomfort? Had he done something, or was Al just tired of enduring him? Roy had only been half-joking when he’d chosen those words. He knew he could be a strain on even the most gentle people. Even Gracia had lost patience with him a time or two.
“Alphonse?” he prodded. Al didn’t answer for long moments and Roy felt sick. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen when Al left. Logically, he’d known the young man probably wouldn’t stay with him forever, but he’d allowed himself to become used to Al’s warm, comforting presence in the house. He leaned on Alphonse just as much as he had ever leaned on crutches or canes. Roy knew what he felt for Al was a peculiar kind of affection. He couldn’t exactly call it romantic but it was certainly past being casual. Al was his main source of solace. In the storm of confusion and emotion since Riza’s death, Al had offered himself as a rock, a shelter, an anchor and, almost without realizing it, Roy had latched on. Until just that moment, Roy hadn't thought about such a responsibility being too much weight for a young man to carry -- Alphonse was barely nineteen, after all, no matter how mature he was.
Still, Roy was selfish enough that the thought of Al leaving stirred some deep pain in him. Alphonse had become his quiet place and he wasn’t sure he was ready to lose that yet.
Just as Roy was getting ready to ask again, Al finally blurted, “When I was at Gracia’s a few weeks ago…”
Al stopped, blushing, and looked away. Roy felt a new brand of sickness creep in. He could think of only one thing Al might have to say that started off with Gracia and ended with him unable to look Roy in the eye. Roy had a sudden flash of memory – himself asking “Had you looking at the photo albums, did she?” and the way Al had faltered for just a moment before nodding.
“The pictures she showed you,” Roy ventured, his voice rougher than he would have expected. “They weren’t from the regular photo album were they?”
“No,” Al answered, sounding so quietly defeated that Roy knew he’d accurately located what was bothering him. “No, they weren’t.”
“They were of the four of us.” Roy couldn’t define the feeling in his stomach nor why it was there. Al nodded and Roy felt himself crumbling inside. “And now you’re disgusted with me.” Unable to watch the shame on Al’s face any longer, Roy turned toward the house, his leg feeling stiff and uncooperative.
He took a step forward, only to pause when he felt a hand on his sleeve. He studied it in bewilderment for a moment before looking up at the man it belonged to.
"No," Al said, color staining his face. "No, that isn't the problem at all." The younger man let go of Roy's sleeve, his eyes fixed on his own hands.
“Then what is?” Roy asked, genuinely confused.
“I… Roy… I don’t know how to say this, exactly, but… I’ve…” Al stopped, swallowed, then looked up at Roy. Mustang could see the lines on Al's face, an unnatural pallor and strain hovering around Al's eyes. “I don’t feel just friendship for you anymore,” he finally murmured, and Roy thought he felt the world stop spinning for the space of a heartbeat. That hadn't been anything close to what he'd expected to hear. Hell, the thought of that revelation passing Al's lips had never so much as occurred to him.
Instantly, Roy relaxed, tension bleeding out of his body. At least I don't have to worry about him leaving, he thought and immediately hated himself for it. He swore to himself that he would not, under any circumstances, use what Al was feeling to manipulate the younger man into doing what Roy wanted, especially when Roy wasn't even sure what he wanted in the first place. In the meantime, however, Al was waiting for a response and Roy cleared his throat.
“That is understandable, Alphonse,” Mustang rumbled, choosing his words carefully. “When someone takes care of someone else the way you have taken care of me all these months, it is very natural for deeper feelings to develop between them.”
Al, however, possessed one of the sharpest minds Roy had ever seen and those golden eyes narrowed as Al latched onto Roy's ambiguous phrasing. "Roy," he ventured, and Roy could hear the way his voice trembled around the edges. "Are you saying....?"
Guilt and fear stabbed Roy at the same time, a double-edged blade straight to his gut. He couldn't lie to Al, not about anything. He couldn't tell Al that he returned the feelings and neither could he say that he felt nothing of the sort. Roy shook his head, looking away from Al uneasily, a pained expression crossing his face as he searched for words that would be perfectly honest.
“I can’t promise you anything, Alphonse,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I am tired and I am broken. I do not know yet how much I am capable of feeling.” His dark eyes flicked back to Al’s, registering the cautious hope there as Roy admitted, “But I know that I already feel more for you than I thought I would ever feel for another human being again.”
Al let out a shaky breath and Roy wondered how long the boy had been holding it. "That's fine," Al said in a hoarse whisper, looking as if he might need to sit down. "I don't want to push you into anything at all." His cheeks pinked and Roy almost smiled, thinking for a moment how attractive the added color made him. "I'm not even sure what I want or how I feel yet," Al admitted.
Roy nodded in understanding, then grimaced as his weak knee bent under the unusual strain of being used for so long. He didn't know how long they'd been standing in the garden talking but it was apparently longer than what the injured limb was used to. Al caught the motion and leapt forward, all awkwardness gone as he slipped into the familiar role of caretaker, hands going to Roy's sides to support him.
"You need to sit down, Roy," he muttered, sounding ashamed enough that Roy spared him a sidelong glance. "I shouldn't have kept you out here talking so long."
"It's all right, Alphonse," Roy assured him, though he couldn't help leaning heavily into Al's helping embrace. "I am glad you told me. It was worth a little discomfort to hear what you had to say." Roy wondered briefly if the shift in their paradigms would have an adverse affect on the other aspects of their relationship, but as he watched Al ignore his own near-shy embarrassment to help Roy inside and lower him to the couch, propping the now-throbbing injured leg up on the sofa cushions, he smiled just a little.
With no small amount of surprise, the strategist in Roy's head made a careful observation that, odd as it was, this whole thing might just work after all.
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 Sunday night/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.
And hey, guess what: even glaciers have to move sometime!
The cool spring breeze teased his bangs, lifting them off his brow so the warm sunlight could kiss his skin. Roy closed his eyes and could smell the rich, waking earth and a delicate hint of roses. Subtle songs of birds and insects' wings tickled his ears and he could taste the change of seasons whispering through the air. Another sound echoed out over the yard and Roy's eyes shot open, his head swiveling around to look toward the house. Was that the front door? He could feel a smile tugging at him, as playful as the breeze. He turned so that his friend would be able to see the absence of the second cane.
Alphonse will be so happy, the wind seemed to whisper to him and he nodded. Yes. He would be. Al was always happy to see him well. It was one of the things that kept Roy trying.
He heard his name, and was it his imagination or did Al sound worried?
"Out here, Alphonse," he called, gripping his sole cane tighter when he found that shouting managed to unbalance him slightly.
The tall young man came bursting out the back door, his coat still swinging from his broad shoulders, and Roy felt his expression soften. Alphonse had been worried. The thought warmed him strangely. He watched as Al made his way out into the back yard, a wide smile bursting across the younger Elric's face as he stepped onto the patio.
"I see you're down to just one cane," Al noted happily, nodding toward the mahogany stick.
Roy nodded, shifting his weight a little. "Dr. Weisman said to compliment you on your fine job of nursing," he said, able to restrain neither the fondness in his expression nor the mischief. "And to congratulate you for enduring me for so long."
Al gave a shaky attempt at a smile and joked weakly, "It's about time someone had pity on me for putting up with you."
Roy frowned, giving Alphonse a searching look. He couldn’t help but notice that Al seemed to be acting a little odd. He had been, Roy thought, since the night before. Al had seemed almost unhappy about seeing Ed the next day, as if it were a nuisance. Roy couldn’t believe that -- not that Ed couldn’t be a nuisance, but Al usually appreciated visits from his brother. And then at breakfast, Roy thought he had noticed a strange light in Al’s eyes just before the younger man jumped up and fled the room, saying he’d left the stove on in the bathroom.
Roy had his theories and all of them had flaws. He wondered if Al suspected Ed’s news (Ed had, somewhat hesitantly, told Roy the news and invited him to the wedding) and was upset about it for some reason or another. Was it possible that Alphonse was in love with Winry? Roy frowned. That would be a deep blow for the young man and Roy didn’t want to see him hurt.
“Alphonse?” he asked gently. “Is something the matter?”
Al’s head jerked up and Roy almost smiled. Al looked like a man who had just realized he was in a sniper’s crosshairs. “No, nothing at all,” Al chirped, and Roy arched an eyebrow. Apparently seeing that Roy was about to press further, Al smiled too-brightly and asked, “Did Ed tell you his big news?”
Curious to see if this was what was bothering Al, Roy pursued the line of conversation. “He mentioned it, yes.”
Al smiled and Roy could detect no trace of bitterness or disappointment anywhere in his expression. Either Al was a very good actor or the upcoming nuptials weren’t what had him upset. Al’s expression turned suddenly serious as he focused on Roy.
“He did invite you, didn’t he?” Al asked, sounding concerned, and Roy nodded.
“Yes, he did extend an invitation.” Roy couldn’t help but be amused when Al seemed relieved at this. Edward might not be a paragon of etiquette, but in recent years, he’d matured enough to know what breaches of good manners would likely get him a wrench to the head.
Seeing that Al had relaxed, discussion of Ed’s wedding apparently having soothed whatever was troubling him, Roy tried again. “Alphonse, are you sure everything is all right?”
Al’s eyes went wide, guilt slamming across his features as clearly as if the word had been tattooed there, and Roy began to feel distinctly uneasy. Another possibility for Al’s unusual behavior occurred to him and he felt his stomach tie into knots. Was he the reason behind the young man’s discomfort? Had he done something, or was Al just tired of enduring him? Roy had only been half-joking when he’d chosen those words. He knew he could be a strain on even the most gentle people. Even Gracia had lost patience with him a time or two.
“Alphonse?” he prodded. Al didn’t answer for long moments and Roy felt sick. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen when Al left. Logically, he’d known the young man probably wouldn’t stay with him forever, but he’d allowed himself to become used to Al’s warm, comforting presence in the house. He leaned on Alphonse just as much as he had ever leaned on crutches or canes. Roy knew what he felt for Al was a peculiar kind of affection. He couldn’t exactly call it romantic but it was certainly past being casual. Al was his main source of solace. In the storm of confusion and emotion since Riza’s death, Al had offered himself as a rock, a shelter, an anchor and, almost without realizing it, Roy had latched on. Until just that moment, Roy hadn't thought about such a responsibility being too much weight for a young man to carry -- Alphonse was barely nineteen, after all, no matter how mature he was.
Still, Roy was selfish enough that the thought of Al leaving stirred some deep pain in him. Alphonse had become his quiet place and he wasn’t sure he was ready to lose that yet.
Just as Roy was getting ready to ask again, Al finally blurted, “When I was at Gracia’s a few weeks ago…”
Al stopped, blushing, and looked away. Roy felt a new brand of sickness creep in. He could think of only one thing Al might have to say that started off with Gracia and ended with him unable to look Roy in the eye. Roy had a sudden flash of memory – himself asking “Had you looking at the photo albums, did she?” and the way Al had faltered for just a moment before nodding.
“The pictures she showed you,” Roy ventured, his voice rougher than he would have expected. “They weren’t from the regular photo album were they?”
“No,” Al answered, sounding so quietly defeated that Roy knew he’d accurately located what was bothering him. “No, they weren’t.”
“They were of the four of us.” Roy couldn’t define the feeling in his stomach nor why it was there. Al nodded and Roy felt himself crumbling inside. “And now you’re disgusted with me.” Unable to watch the shame on Al’s face any longer, Roy turned toward the house, his leg feeling stiff and uncooperative.
He took a step forward, only to pause when he felt a hand on his sleeve. He studied it in bewilderment for a moment before looking up at the man it belonged to.
"No," Al said, color staining his face. "No, that isn't the problem at all." The younger man let go of Roy's sleeve, his eyes fixed on his own hands.
“Then what is?” Roy asked, genuinely confused.
“I… Roy… I don’t know how to say this, exactly, but… I’ve…” Al stopped, swallowed, then looked up at Roy. Mustang could see the lines on Al's face, an unnatural pallor and strain hovering around Al's eyes. “I don’t feel just friendship for you anymore,” he finally murmured, and Roy thought he felt the world stop spinning for the space of a heartbeat. That hadn't been anything close to what he'd expected to hear. Hell, the thought of that revelation passing Al's lips had never so much as occurred to him.
Instantly, Roy relaxed, tension bleeding out of his body. At least I don't have to worry about him leaving, he thought and immediately hated himself for it. He swore to himself that he would not, under any circumstances, use what Al was feeling to manipulate the younger man into doing what Roy wanted, especially when Roy wasn't even sure what he wanted in the first place. In the meantime, however, Al was waiting for a response and Roy cleared his throat.
“That is understandable, Alphonse,” Mustang rumbled, choosing his words carefully. “When someone takes care of someone else the way you have taken care of me all these months, it is very natural for deeper feelings to develop between them.”
Al, however, possessed one of the sharpest minds Roy had ever seen and those golden eyes narrowed as Al latched onto Roy's ambiguous phrasing. "Roy," he ventured, and Roy could hear the way his voice trembled around the edges. "Are you saying....?"
Guilt and fear stabbed Roy at the same time, a double-edged blade straight to his gut. He couldn't lie to Al, not about anything. He couldn't tell Al that he returned the feelings and neither could he say that he felt nothing of the sort. Roy shook his head, looking away from Al uneasily, a pained expression crossing his face as he searched for words that would be perfectly honest.
“I can’t promise you anything, Alphonse,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I am tired and I am broken. I do not know yet how much I am capable of feeling.” His dark eyes flicked back to Al’s, registering the cautious hope there as Roy admitted, “But I know that I already feel more for you than I thought I would ever feel for another human being again.”
Al let out a shaky breath and Roy wondered how long the boy had been holding it. "That's fine," Al said in a hoarse whisper, looking as if he might need to sit down. "I don't want to push you into anything at all." His cheeks pinked and Roy almost smiled, thinking for a moment how attractive the added color made him. "I'm not even sure what I want or how I feel yet," Al admitted.
Roy nodded in understanding, then grimaced as his weak knee bent under the unusual strain of being used for so long. He didn't know how long they'd been standing in the garden talking but it was apparently longer than what the injured limb was used to. Al caught the motion and leapt forward, all awkwardness gone as he slipped into the familiar role of caretaker, hands going to Roy's sides to support him.
"You need to sit down, Roy," he muttered, sounding ashamed enough that Roy spared him a sidelong glance. "I shouldn't have kept you out here talking so long."
"It's all right, Alphonse," Roy assured him, though he couldn't help leaning heavily into Al's helping embrace. "I am glad you told me. It was worth a little discomfort to hear what you had to say." Roy wondered briefly if the shift in their paradigms would have an adverse affect on the other aspects of their relationship, but as he watched Al ignore his own near-shy embarrassment to help Roy inside and lower him to the couch, propping the now-throbbing injured leg up on the sofa cushions, he smiled just a little.
With no small amount of surprise, the strategist in Roy's head made a careful observation that, odd as it was, this whole thing might just work after all.
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