Roy Mustang thanked every deity that he could think of that Edward Elric could not hold his liquor.
There were plenty of other things to thank deities for, he supposed. The victory in the election, primarily. His team at his side, the plans they had for Amestris.
But really, the sight of Ed—red waistcoat shucked off, leather pants practically plastered to his ass—half-sprawled on the bar as he tried to sweet talk the bartender for free shots, was way, way better than being in charge of a country.
Though the buzz of alcohol hummed through his veins, the victory proved to be a more potent thrill, and it was this bravery that led his feet over to stand next to Ed.
“You know,” he drawled, leaning on his elbow on the bar next to him, “you could pay for it. Your paycheck is big enough. I saw to that personally.”
Ed groaned, pushing himself up to stand, and pouted over at Roy. “But that’s part of the fun. The only fun thing, actually. It’s a challenge, earning yourself a free drink.”
Rolling his eyes along with the bartender, Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill. “Another of whatever he’s been having. How many so far?”
“Just the one,” the bartender said immediately, before Ed was able to lie, then turned to pour another shot. Ed just made a face.
“Now, now,” Roy murmured, sliding over and nudging Ed’s side. “You managed your free drink, right? Impressed a guy enough that he bought you one.”
Ed paused, and a canny expression settled over his face as he smirked. “You after somethin’, Mustang?”
Roy paused, watching Ed right back. Though Ed hadn’t been under his command for seven years, though the flirting had started some time after that, the thought of taking this nameless tension a step further left Roy uncharacteristically nervous.
But god, Roy had realized two years ago that Ed was gorgeous, and it had been killing him ever since. Ed seemed to have realized, too, and even worse, what had once been an awkward, ignorable childhood crush had apparently grown into far more.
“Only as much as you’re willing, Edward,” Roy finally said, quirking an eyebrow. “We’re here to have fun, after all.”
Ed’s smirk turned into a wicked grin, and he opened his mouth—
“Here you go, kid,” came the bartender’s gruff voice, and the shot glass clacked as it landed on the bar. Ed’s attention immediately diverted from Roy, and Roy tried not to sulk.
Ed tipped it back, and Roy only felt a little guilty as his eyes lingered on Ed’s neck, admiring the bare skin as he swallowed. He opened his mouth, a million lines cycling through his head—
Roy was going to kill Havoc.
Ed’s eyes lit up as he licked his lips and turned, returning the shot glass to the bar. Roy debated following, but he didn’t want to appear too desperate, so he instead ordered another drink and lounged back on the bar, opposite to how Ed had been earlier, though with decidedly more ogling than mooching on the mind.
“So,” Jean drawled, clearly more intoxicated than either of them (separately or together), slinging an arm around Ed’s shoulder. “Heard you got the flexibility of a goddamn rubber band.”
Hold that thought. Havoc could live. For now.
The encouragement of several others joined in, even those not a part of the new Amestrian President’s party. After all, in tight leather pants and a black tank, automail arm gleaming dully in the low light, Ed made a breathtaking sight. Roy found himself torn between anticipation and possessive jealousy.
“An excuse to show off, Lieutenant Colonel Havoc? You’re speakin’ my language.”
The accents twanged on similar notes, and Roy wondered briefly how close Havoc and Ed’s hometowns were to each other. After all, they were both from the East—
And then as Ed sank down onto the ground, legs spreading in a split, slow and deliberate and effortless, Roy’s mind wouldn’t work at all.
He watched, dazed, as Ed showed off a flexibility that even Roy hadn’t known he possessed. One leg straight out in front, one leg straight back, and Ed had touched the floor without even seeming to notice. Without even stretching first.
There were a few smattered cheers and laughs, then further encouragement. Ed, buoyed by this, immediately twisted, legs now out to each side and flat on the floor in a way that made Roy ache, both in sympathy and with something decidedly less appropriate.
And then Ed leaned forward, legs still spread, and pressed his stomach flat against the floor.
Though an impressive gymnastic feat in and of itself, the location of Ed’s head left Roy dazedly wondering exactly what else Ed could do in that position. But before it could distract him too much further, Ed laughed, sitting up.
“Hey, watch this!”
And then Roy Mustang, recently declared the most powerful man in Amestris, had to watch helplessly and painfully as Ed pulled up one leg, then another, tucking both ankles behind his neck.
Roy ordered another drink.
He continued to nurse it as Ed showed off more of his acrobatic skills, even taking requests from the audience. After several more impressive maneuvers, someone shouted, “Do a backflip!”
The entire room had to take several quick staggering steps backward to avoid an automail leg to the face, but Ed stuck the landing like a champion, flicking his braid so it fell down his back as he grinned over at the assembled spectators.
“You all got anything else for me?” he challenged.
The unfamiliar voice left them all jumping, and Roy whirled along with several others to see a large woman pushing her way to the front of the crowd. They parted for her when they saw the size of her arms, not wanting to end up crushed, and when she reached the center, she glared down… as Ed glared up.
“You got a problem, lady?”
"Yeah," she replied, crossing her arms. She had to be at least twice as big around as Ed, and Roy set his drink down, wondering if he might have to step in to avoid Ed getting squashed like a bug. "And it's you. This is my bar, and look what you just did."
She pointed, and the entire room followed her finger.
A giant divot had gouged itself out of one of the tables: Ed's automail arm had, presumably, smacked it and left a giant wedge-shaped chunk missing. Upon further examination, Roy could see that it had scattered into a few smaller pieces across the floor. Ed's face quickly shifted from one of defiance to sheepishness.
"Oh," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared.
"Yeah, oh. So unless you're gonna pay for it..." She trailed off threateningly.
Ed waved his hand in an attempt to assuage her. "Hang on, hang on. I can fix this."
Without waiting for a response, he darted forward, plucking up the pieces of wood and setting them on the damaged table. With a wicked grin in Roy's direction—Roy's?—he clapped his hands together.
"You think I was showin' off earlier? Watch this."
He grabbed the table, and blue lightning flickered through the room, drawing forth "ooh"s and "ahh"s. The damaged area of the table went a bright white for a moment before shifting, reforming, and then faded, leaving a seamless (and much cleaner) table behind.
"Well," the woman said, voice a little skeptical, though Roy didn't miss the hint of admiration there. "I guess as long as you don't do it again, I won't have to kick you out."
Ed turned back to her, locking his arms behind his head and grinning. That grin could start wars, really. "No ma'am. I'll be more careful."
She let out a "hmph," but then turned and retreated in the direction of the back door.
The buzzing started again, and Roy could hear Ed's new admirers wanting to hear all about his alchemy, about what other abilities he might have, and Roy could feel a slight bit of completely unreasonable sulk beginning to set in again.
"'Scuse me, guys, I need to go get another drink."
To Roy's surprise, despite several offers to buy him one for free, Ed turned them all down. Immediately after, he sauntered up to Roy, smirking.
"Not bad, huh?"
Roy leaned back slightly, watching Ed, considering. Almost cautious. Not even a massive idiot could have missed Ed's intentions, and though something in Roy urged him to put forth some sort of effort, to make a move, years of caution stilled him.
"I'm sure there are worse ways to avoid being kicked out of bars."
Ed sighed melodramatically, smacking several times at Roy's arm. "Oh, c'mon. You were impressed, right? You definitely were. I saw you watching me the entire time."
Roy froze for a moment, only years of experience managing to keep the surprise off of his face, but he raised an impassive eyebrow. "Does that mean you were watching me the entire time?"
"Damn straight," Ed replied without hesitation. "You're only the finest piece of ass in this entire bar. Entire city, really. At least."
Roy Mustang, speechless. How had this day come? He gaped at Ed, trying to sort out if there were any possible way to have misinterpreted that, but... really, no, no there wasn't.
"You're catching flies. You're not fucking surprised, are you? I've been obvious for like, what, ten years? And your ego's big enough that you shouldn't have a hard time believing it."
Roy managed to inhale slowly, settling his thoughts, taking in the words and forming a proper response.
"I simply wasn't expecting you to be so forward," he finally said, voice level.
"Well, I'm fucking tired of waiting. So I figured, what the hell? Why shouldn't I totally come onto you? After all, you were watching my ass." Ed shot him a sidelong glance and smirked. "Gotta be the happiest day of your life. And you won the election, too."
At that, Roy rolled his eyes heavenward. "I cannot believe that you think I would fall for something so absolutely terrible."
Ed finally turned to face him fully, stepping forward, now blatantly in Roy's space. Roy could see the small motes of darker bronze in bright gold eyes, smooth dark skin with the faintest dusting of freckles across the cheekbones, and lips that looked unfairly soft and absolutely kissable.
"Please, Roy. I've had you since you learned I was flexible enough to—"
Roy lifted a hand, then placed two fingers gently over Ed’s mouth.
That left Ed speechless in utter shock, eyes widening enough to tell Roy that no, Ed hadn’t expected the horrible line to work.
“You’ve had me for longer than that.”
Roy couldn’t say which of them moved forward first, only that one moment he was staring at Ed’s lips, and the next they were pressed up against his own.
The kiss was slow and long and surprisingly gentle, for all that it had been the culmination of years of tension between them, and after a moment, Roy moved his hand, cupping Ed’s cheek gently as he tilted his head, eyes closed, reveling in the fact that he was kissing Edward Elric.
Fingers had twined around his neck, one set flesh, the other metal, and he hummed at the sensation. Ed seemed to take this as an invitation, pulling him closer—
The two of them jumped, landing some distance apart, and Roy caught a quick glance at Ed’s bright red face before turning to glare at the disturbance. Havoc had lost his living privileges and Roy was going to kill him again.
He was, apparently, not alone in this thought, because Riza led a protesting Havoc away as Fuery continuously smacked his arm and berated him. Roy supposed he should be grateful that their audience had turned away, pretending not to notice, but he wasn’t fooled at all. Instead, he shot a look over at Ed, who glanced away as soon as he realized Roy was watching him. When he looked back over, Roy had to turn away as well.
“…So,” Ed finally said, clearing his throat, and Roy glanced back over.
“So…” The silence hung awkwardly in the air for a few moments. Ed blinked, then shook himself and said, much more firmly, “you should buy me a drink.”
The matter-of-fact demand bled the tension from both of them. Roy smiled over at him gently, taking in that face yet again, so many possibilities now in front of them both.
He lifted his hand, then paused.
“I’ll buy you another drink.” He met Ed’s eyes. “If you agree to dinner.”
Ed grinned back at him, wicked and sharp and dangerous and beautiful.