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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.
Thanks as always to my wonderful betas, and everyone who comments. *LOVE*
I am posting one chapter every Sunday night. Previous chapters can be found here.
This chapter's a little shorter than the others by 100 words or so, but hopefully you'll forgive me, considering what's IN this chapter.
Roy thought Al looked extraordinarily attractive in the late morning sunshine, a light sheen of moisture visible on the back of his neck as he dug the hole for the second rosebush they were planting in the garden. Roy sat on the ground a few feet away, pulling up the few small weeds that had grown up around the first rose and the daisy. He paused, unwanted green stalks held in his gloved hand, and took a moment to study his companion. Roy still felt oddly nervous about the whole thing, second-guessing his decision to pursue a relationship with Al, but he didn’t really see a way he could have chosen differently. The best thing now was to accept it and move forward.
He let his eyes roam the young man’s face, evaluating, and noticed how handsome Al was. The kindness evident in his eyes, the strength in the set of his broad shoulders, the pleasing curve of his lower lip… Roy felt a new degree of appreciation. He tried to picture himself kissing Al and almost succeeded.
Al paused in his efforts, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and noticed Roy watching him. The younger man tilted his head, questioning, and Roy smiled.
“Is there a reason you’re sitting there daydreaming while I’m doing all the manual labor?” Al teased.
Roy snorted and joked, “I’m daydreaming because you’re doing all the manual labor.”
Al narrowed his eyes briefly and Roy could tell he was trying to decide how seriously Roy was flirting. “So which part has you distracted?” Al ventured, sounding nervous beneath his levity. “Having your own personal gardener or watching me sweat?”
Roy’s eyebrows shot up and he choked on a laugh before regaining his composure. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said airily. “You’re much more than my gardener. You’re also my cook, my nurse, my maid…”
It was Al’s turn to arch an eyebrow, humor playing at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t go getting any funny ideas about uniforms,” he warned, making Roy laugh. Mustang shook his head against the idea of Al in a short, frilly skirt. It wasn’t a picture that worked well.
Lightened by their easy banter, Roy offered a smile. Al returned it and went back to digging the hole. The sound of the metal spade being sheathed in the earth rang in Roy’s ears and he watched Al working, the boy's profile almost grim. Roy wondered if he should have responded the way he had; he thought Al knew he was joking but just in case... Roy didn't want Al to think he took Al's sacrifices lightly. Roy called Al's name and when Al stopped to look at him, said, “You know I’m only teasing, I hope. I see you as much more than that.”
“I know,” Al answered with a genuine, easy smile. “You always have, even when some people wouldn’t have called me human.” He propped the shovel on the earth, leaning against it. “That’s why I trust you. One reason, anyway.”
Roy swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that. Al didn’t seem to be expecting him to and Roy went back to pulling weeds as Al threw down the shovel and settled the rosebush into the hole. As he pulled the last green shoot out of the ground, Roy turned his head just enough to see Al clearly.
Yes, Roy thought as he watched Al’s hands – gloveless despite the man’s aversion to getting dirty – pat the soil down around the rose’s roots. Yes, I made the right choice.
At dinner, as they ate in companionable silence, Roy’s awareness of Al deepened yet again. He studied the lines of Al’s jaw, the motion of his throat as he swallowed, the way his hands held his silverware as he cut into the meat on his plate. Al caught him watching once or twice but neither of them said anything.
The meal was a quiet affair with Roy lost in his thoughts and Al willing to let him remain there. Roy knew Ed wanted Al to move back to Resembool. Ed had even hinted at it over the phone when he’d called. What Roy didn’t know was how Al felt about the idea. Resembool was home to Al, after all, and all that was left of his family was there.
Roy wouldn’t try to stop Al if he did want to go back, but he also wasn’t sure he would be able to continue coaxing his heart out of its shell if Al was going to leave. For a moment, he considered not attending Edward and Winry’s wedding, to let Al attend on his own and decide for himself, without Roy there to influence his decisions, whether he wanted to stay in Central or move back east.
The idea was quickly banished, however, at the knowledge of how many reasons he had to attend. Though he would never have described himself and Fullmetal as “close,” they had far too much of a history for Roy to consider not attending the wedding. Winry would appreciate it as well. And then there was the issue of Alphonse and the knowledge that, no matter what happened between the two of them, it would wound Al on a deep level if Roy decided not to come.
He’s too young to want to be chained to a washed-up old thing like you, something inside whispered, and Roy had no answer for that. He swallowed the last bite of his dinner with a long drink of water, feeling as if the tender vegetables would lodge in his throat. Would he lose Al before he really had him? At that moment, Al looked up and caught his eye, an affectionate smile claiming his mouth. Doubts seemed to crumble and blow away in the face of Al's open expression and, quite suddenly, Roy could easily see himself kissing the man.
Studying after supper had become a routine for them, one that Al found familiar and comforting, but lately he'd noticed the alchemic texts had a rival for his attentions. The dark-haired man who got just as lost wandering those pages as Al usually did had become a huge distraction. Al was in the middle of a paragraph when he heard the slight scratching of lead across paper and glanced up to watch Roy sketch out pieces of an arc, half-finished runes, and scribbled notes that only Roy really knew how to decipher. Long minutes later, he realized he had completely neglected the text in favor of studying Roy's fingers and blushed, ducking his head and reading the rest of the paragraph twice just to comprehend it.
Suddenly, as Al reached for another piece of paper and found Roy's hand already there, he realized Roy was watching him, too.
There were occasions when Al deeply regretted his decision to let the relationship progress at Roy’s pace. Right now was one of them. They were inches apart in a quiet room, caught in the delicate tension of interrupted movement. Alchemical texts and half-sketched arrays were scattered between them, resting uneasily beneath their hands as if touching the same paper was substitute for touching each other’s skin.
Al’s breath was quick, shallow, and he wanted so badly to just lean forward and press his lips to Roy’s. He knew Roy had feelings for him; knew that this desire wasn’t one-sided. He closed his eyes to wrestle his impulses under control; he also knew that Roy had reasons for being gun-shy. Desire wasn’t so pleasant when it was a prelude to painful memories and above all he wanted Roy to be happy.
There was a light brush of softness against his lips and his eyes opened in surprise. He had to fight the urge to jump backwards when he saw Roy’s face so close to his instead of the caressing hand he thought he’d find. It took all his self-control to remain motionless, to keep his eyes open, and simply hold his breath and hope Roy would do that again.
He did.
Parted lips met his with barely enough pressure to be called a kiss but Al still felt it all the way down into his stomach. Roy’s mouth moved gently, taking Al’s lower lip and caressing the swell of it with his tongue. Al angled his head, his mouth opening as he kissed back just as softly.
Roy pulled back, leaving Al flushed and hungry. That may have just been the world’s most perfect kiss, he thought to himself, his eyes flickering down to Roy’s mouth again. He wanted more. Oh, he wanted more.
Roy’s hand came up and brushed over Al’s temple, down his cheek. “Good night, Alphonse,” he murmured, and Al felt disappointment crash into his stomach.
“Good night, Roy,” he managed to get out, his voice breathless and raspy. Roy’s lips met his again briefly and then the older man was standing, settling his weight over his cane, moving toward the stairs.
Al froze, suddenly wondering where he would sleep. Would Roy want him to sleep in the other room, in his old bed? Had they crossed one line and crossed back over another? Roy paused at the foot of the stairs to look back at him and Al wondered if he imagined the softening of the other man’s eyes.
“Are you coming to bed now, Al, or shall I leave the light on?”
Al’s body sagged with relief, a smile spreading over his mouth. He got up from the chair and glanced at their notes and journals. He felt an almost physical compulsion to put them away neatly but decided that leaving them where they were was just fine. “Now,” he said, and Roy smiled as Al extinguished the lamp and followed him up the stairs. When they settled into bed, Al couldn't seem to coax the tension out of his muscles, couldn't figure out where to put his hands; if Roy still wanted Al's arms around him or if the older man had pushed his emotions as far as they could go for one day.
The first brush of Roy's hand over his chest made him jump and open his eyes, flushing a little when he realized Roy was studying him closely. "Are you okay?" Roy asked and Al's lips twisted wryly as he turned onto his side so he could rest his hand on Roy's ribs.
"I was wondering the same about you," he admitted.
Roy nodded, sliding his hand up Al's back, drawing them closer together. "I won't say it doesn't seem a little strange to me right now," he confessed. "But it is a good strange, at least."
Al moved his thumb subtly, rubbing through the soft cotton shirt Roy wore to sleep in. "Good strange, huh?" He quirked a smile, then sobered a bit. "I really liked that kiss, Roy," he said, his voice sounding papery-rough even to his own ears. "That... that was a very good strange."
"It was," Mustang agreed, shifting a bit closer to Al. The younger man held his breath, wondering if... Roy's mouth touched his and he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. The kiss was butterfly-soft, shallow, and altogether too short but it still managed to make him dizzy. His hand clutched at Roy's side and Mustang hummed quietly as he pulled their bodies snug together. The older man was asleep within minutes and Al lay awake for what felt like hours, just holding Roy and breathing.
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.
Thanks as always to my wonderful betas, and everyone who comments. *LOVE*
I am posting one chapter every Sunday night. Previous chapters can be found here.
This chapter's a little shorter than the others by 100 words or so, but hopefully you'll forgive me, considering what's IN this chapter.
Roy thought Al looked extraordinarily attractive in the late morning sunshine, a light sheen of moisture visible on the back of his neck as he dug the hole for the second rosebush they were planting in the garden. Roy sat on the ground a few feet away, pulling up the few small weeds that had grown up around the first rose and the daisy. He paused, unwanted green stalks held in his gloved hand, and took a moment to study his companion. Roy still felt oddly nervous about the whole thing, second-guessing his decision to pursue a relationship with Al, but he didn’t really see a way he could have chosen differently. The best thing now was to accept it and move forward.
He let his eyes roam the young man’s face, evaluating, and noticed how handsome Al was. The kindness evident in his eyes, the strength in the set of his broad shoulders, the pleasing curve of his lower lip… Roy felt a new degree of appreciation. He tried to picture himself kissing Al and almost succeeded.
Al paused in his efforts, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and noticed Roy watching him. The younger man tilted his head, questioning, and Roy smiled.
“Is there a reason you’re sitting there daydreaming while I’m doing all the manual labor?” Al teased.
Roy snorted and joked, “I’m daydreaming because you’re doing all the manual labor.”
Al narrowed his eyes briefly and Roy could tell he was trying to decide how seriously Roy was flirting. “So which part has you distracted?” Al ventured, sounding nervous beneath his levity. “Having your own personal gardener or watching me sweat?”
Roy’s eyebrows shot up and he choked on a laugh before regaining his composure. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said airily. “You’re much more than my gardener. You’re also my cook, my nurse, my maid…”
It was Al’s turn to arch an eyebrow, humor playing at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t go getting any funny ideas about uniforms,” he warned, making Roy laugh. Mustang shook his head against the idea of Al in a short, frilly skirt. It wasn’t a picture that worked well.
Lightened by their easy banter, Roy offered a smile. Al returned it and went back to digging the hole. The sound of the metal spade being sheathed in the earth rang in Roy’s ears and he watched Al working, the boy's profile almost grim. Roy wondered if he should have responded the way he had; he thought Al knew he was joking but just in case... Roy didn't want Al to think he took Al's sacrifices lightly. Roy called Al's name and when Al stopped to look at him, said, “You know I’m only teasing, I hope. I see you as much more than that.”
“I know,” Al answered with a genuine, easy smile. “You always have, even when some people wouldn’t have called me human.” He propped the shovel on the earth, leaning against it. “That’s why I trust you. One reason, anyway.”
Roy swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that. Al didn’t seem to be expecting him to and Roy went back to pulling weeds as Al threw down the shovel and settled the rosebush into the hole. As he pulled the last green shoot out of the ground, Roy turned his head just enough to see Al clearly.
Yes, Roy thought as he watched Al’s hands – gloveless despite the man’s aversion to getting dirty – pat the soil down around the rose’s roots. Yes, I made the right choice.
At dinner, as they ate in companionable silence, Roy’s awareness of Al deepened yet again. He studied the lines of Al’s jaw, the motion of his throat as he swallowed, the way his hands held his silverware as he cut into the meat on his plate. Al caught him watching once or twice but neither of them said anything.
The meal was a quiet affair with Roy lost in his thoughts and Al willing to let him remain there. Roy knew Ed wanted Al to move back to Resembool. Ed had even hinted at it over the phone when he’d called. What Roy didn’t know was how Al felt about the idea. Resembool was home to Al, after all, and all that was left of his family was there.
Roy wouldn’t try to stop Al if he did want to go back, but he also wasn’t sure he would be able to continue coaxing his heart out of its shell if Al was going to leave. For a moment, he considered not attending Edward and Winry’s wedding, to let Al attend on his own and decide for himself, without Roy there to influence his decisions, whether he wanted to stay in Central or move back east.
The idea was quickly banished, however, at the knowledge of how many reasons he had to attend. Though he would never have described himself and Fullmetal as “close,” they had far too much of a history for Roy to consider not attending the wedding. Winry would appreciate it as well. And then there was the issue of Alphonse and the knowledge that, no matter what happened between the two of them, it would wound Al on a deep level if Roy decided not to come.
He’s too young to want to be chained to a washed-up old thing like you, something inside whispered, and Roy had no answer for that. He swallowed the last bite of his dinner with a long drink of water, feeling as if the tender vegetables would lodge in his throat. Would he lose Al before he really had him? At that moment, Al looked up and caught his eye, an affectionate smile claiming his mouth. Doubts seemed to crumble and blow away in the face of Al's open expression and, quite suddenly, Roy could easily see himself kissing the man.
Studying after supper had become a routine for them, one that Al found familiar and comforting, but lately he'd noticed the alchemic texts had a rival for his attentions. The dark-haired man who got just as lost wandering those pages as Al usually did had become a huge distraction. Al was in the middle of a paragraph when he heard the slight scratching of lead across paper and glanced up to watch Roy sketch out pieces of an arc, half-finished runes, and scribbled notes that only Roy really knew how to decipher. Long minutes later, he realized he had completely neglected the text in favor of studying Roy's fingers and blushed, ducking his head and reading the rest of the paragraph twice just to comprehend it.
Suddenly, as Al reached for another piece of paper and found Roy's hand already there, he realized Roy was watching him, too.
There were occasions when Al deeply regretted his decision to let the relationship progress at Roy’s pace. Right now was one of them. They were inches apart in a quiet room, caught in the delicate tension of interrupted movement. Alchemical texts and half-sketched arrays were scattered between them, resting uneasily beneath their hands as if touching the same paper was substitute for touching each other’s skin.
Al’s breath was quick, shallow, and he wanted so badly to just lean forward and press his lips to Roy’s. He knew Roy had feelings for him; knew that this desire wasn’t one-sided. He closed his eyes to wrestle his impulses under control; he also knew that Roy had reasons for being gun-shy. Desire wasn’t so pleasant when it was a prelude to painful memories and above all he wanted Roy to be happy.
There was a light brush of softness against his lips and his eyes opened in surprise. He had to fight the urge to jump backwards when he saw Roy’s face so close to his instead of the caressing hand he thought he’d find. It took all his self-control to remain motionless, to keep his eyes open, and simply hold his breath and hope Roy would do that again.
He did.
Parted lips met his with barely enough pressure to be called a kiss but Al still felt it all the way down into his stomach. Roy’s mouth moved gently, taking Al’s lower lip and caressing the swell of it with his tongue. Al angled his head, his mouth opening as he kissed back just as softly.
Roy pulled back, leaving Al flushed and hungry. That may have just been the world’s most perfect kiss, he thought to himself, his eyes flickering down to Roy’s mouth again. He wanted more. Oh, he wanted more.
Roy’s hand came up and brushed over Al’s temple, down his cheek. “Good night, Alphonse,” he murmured, and Al felt disappointment crash into his stomach.
“Good night, Roy,” he managed to get out, his voice breathless and raspy. Roy’s lips met his again briefly and then the older man was standing, settling his weight over his cane, moving toward the stairs.
Al froze, suddenly wondering where he would sleep. Would Roy want him to sleep in the other room, in his old bed? Had they crossed one line and crossed back over another? Roy paused at the foot of the stairs to look back at him and Al wondered if he imagined the softening of the other man’s eyes.
“Are you coming to bed now, Al, or shall I leave the light on?”
Al’s body sagged with relief, a smile spreading over his mouth. He got up from the chair and glanced at their notes and journals. He felt an almost physical compulsion to put them away neatly but decided that leaving them where they were was just fine. “Now,” he said, and Roy smiled as Al extinguished the lamp and followed him up the stairs. When they settled into bed, Al couldn't seem to coax the tension out of his muscles, couldn't figure out where to put his hands; if Roy still wanted Al's arms around him or if the older man had pushed his emotions as far as they could go for one day.
The first brush of Roy's hand over his chest made him jump and open his eyes, flushing a little when he realized Roy was studying him closely. "Are you okay?" Roy asked and Al's lips twisted wryly as he turned onto his side so he could rest his hand on Roy's ribs.
"I was wondering the same about you," he admitted.
Roy nodded, sliding his hand up Al's back, drawing them closer together. "I won't say it doesn't seem a little strange to me right now," he confessed. "But it is a good strange, at least."
Al moved his thumb subtly, rubbing through the soft cotton shirt Roy wore to sleep in. "Good strange, huh?" He quirked a smile, then sobered a bit. "I really liked that kiss, Roy," he said, his voice sounding papery-rough even to his own ears. "That... that was a very good strange."
"It was," Mustang agreed, shifting a bit closer to Al. The younger man held his breath, wondering if... Roy's mouth touched his and he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. The kiss was butterfly-soft, shallow, and altogether too short but it still managed to make him dizzy. His hand clutched at Roy's side and Mustang hummed quietly as he pulled their bodies snug together. The older man was asleep within minutes and Al lay awake for what felt like hours, just holding Roy and breathing.
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