On the Couch

by scribblemoose

Ed had spent a lot of time during the past few months on Roy Mustang's couch.

Doing research.

The Colonel had books on Ishbal that even Central didn't have; not only books but papers, reports, minutes of stupid army meetings, even a few letters and, for some reason, a rather odd shopping list that included a bunch of black buckets, among other things.

All these fascinating titbits were stashed away in the Colonel's personal library in his home. Ed could see why. Some of them were the sort of thing that the military might not approve of. So Ed had been pleased (if a little suspicious) to get the opportunity to look at them. But there was a lot of it, and it was taking a long time.

Mustang's study was comfortable enough. Very comfortable, in fact. The sofa was huge, squeaky leather covered with thick blankets and soft pillows. The bookshelves were rich cherrywood, the bottom shelf of each shelf a set of drawers where documents and maps were laid out lovingly, smooth and flat. There was a huge oak desk with a green leather blotter, a deskchair that swivelled, with arms worn smooth from use. A fire burned constantly, the room always warm, the rich smell of the smoke blending perfectly with old leather and books. It had been a long time since Ed had had a home, but if he were ever to have one again, he'd like it to be like this.

In fact, some days Ed turned up straight after breakfast, and got so comfortable and lost that he was surprised when Al turned up to announce that it was midnight, and he really ought not to bother the Colonel any more. Although the Colonel repeatedly insisted that it wasn't a bother, usually making some smart-arse remark about Ed being less trouble when he was within sight.

But Ed could put up with the Colonel's bullshit.

For the research.

However. The day would come - had come, really - when Ed had learned all he could in Roy's study, and it was time to move on.

There was just one thing left to find out.

But the answer wasn't on the cherrywood shelves. Not even in the last drawer on the last shelf - the one Roy had told him not to look in. The one with the shopping list and letters inside, and a few other things that had made no sense when Ed had first snuck a look. Today, because he'd be gone tomorrow and never have another chance - after all, what other reason could he possibly produce for spending time at the Colonel's house? - today, Ed had taken another long, hard look.

After a few blank moments, Ed's faster-than-light mind put two and two together, and came up with something very surprising indeed.

Roy brought him a mug of hot chocolate - a stupid habit the man seemed to have got himself into - and sat next to him on the couch, shoving his feet out of the way to make room. Ed lay back, his head lodged comfortably on a huge cushion, and watched Roy while he sipped at his drink.

The sensible thing to do would have been to let it go. Keep it as a secret, let Roy think he hadn't looked. Didn't know.

Roy was bitching less than usual, and cradling his glass of scotch in a nervous kind of way. Turning the glass around and around in his palms. He sat with his back straight and his knees pressed close together, as if he was up for court martial or something.

Ed pulled himslf up a bit, and took another gulp of his chocolate. Sweet and warm, made without milk, just how he liked it, with a hint of something that he suspected might be brandy. He had no idea where the Colonel had picked up an idea of what Ed liked, never mind the skills to make things like hot chocolate, but however it had happened, Ed rather approved. It made him feel...

... well, yeah. Not everyone could make good hot chocolate without milk.

"Edward," Roy said. Then he paused to clear his throat. Ed waited patiently for him to carry on. But he didn't. He went back to nursing his drink, and that was that.

"Why did you do it?" Ed asked, quietly, when he couldn't wait any more.

There was a pause, and then: "I was a fool."

"Who were you trying to bring back?"

"A mistake," Roy said.

Ed swallowed hard, remembering- "How far did you get?"

"I didn't attempt a transmutation," said Roy, his eyes closed. "Someone who was far wiser and stronger than me made sure of that."

"Hughes."

"Yes."

"Why did you want me to know?"

Roy's eyes flicked open, darted to give Ed an amused glance. "I did tell you not to look, Fullmetal."

Ed shrugged. "You know me better than that."

Roy laughed; just a little, tense laugh, but Ed was pleased to hear it. He wasn't used to this subdued, miserable Colonel. He didn't like it.

"Did you want someone to know who understands? Or was it because you knew it would help us?"

"It will help, then?"

"Maybe. I won't tell anyone," Ed said. "It's none of their business." Them being the military, of course. It would ruin Mustang's chances of promotion forever if they found out the contents of some of those letters, and Ed found, with a little surprise, that he really didn't want that.

"I appreciate that," said Roy.

"You had the arrays wrong. It wouldn't have worked."

Roy gave an odd little bark of laughter. "Forgive me, I'm not the prodigy that you are, Fullmetal."

"It's just science. Not so hard, really. Anyway, we didn't succeed. Everyone always forgets that."

"You didn't succeed because it's not possible."

"Everything's possible," said Ed. "It's just a matter of what it costs."

There was a pause. Roy put his drink down on the floor, which struck Ed as odd, because there was a perfectly good end table right there by the other arm of the sofa.

"Do you know now, Ed? What it's going to cost you?"

Ed swirled the dregs of his hot chocolate around in the bottom of his mug. "Yes," he said, quietly.

"And you're prepared to-"

"Yes. Al and I will leave tomorrow for Ishbal."

Then Roy was looking at him, hard, more like he was looking through him, and Ed was about to get freaked out and yell at him for staring when Ed suddenly realised how close Roy was, and he must have opened his mouth to get on with yelling, because his lips were a little parted when Roy kissed them; and he must have been about to hit him, because his arm was raised already when he went to fold it around Roy's back; and Roy must have known he had that itch behind his ear, because his fingers were rubbing there, where the hair was soft and the skin was ticklish...

Then Roy stopped kissing him, and looked at him as if something completely astonishing had just happened, that no-one could have expected at all, least of all the two of them.

Ed had spent a lot of time on Roy's couch over the past two months, and finally he knew the truth.

He reached up and stroked his fingers through Roy's hair. He was probably smiling.

"Thanks," he said. And was oddly pleased when Roy decided to kiss him all over again.

~owari~