Work Text:
It’s not a date.
Edward's fingers tap impatiently against his bicep, where his arms are crossed over his chest. Ed had arrived shortly after Roy did, fifteen minutes ago. Now they're just loitering outside, waiting for their late arrival.
He glances over at Roy standing beside him, perusing posted flyers littering the wall Ed is leaning against, hands casually held behind his back. Roy's shoulders have hunched slightly the way he's leaning forward, eyes squinting against the sun's glare reflecting off the pavement as he reads. Despite perpetually acting like an old man, he's become much more tolerable since his bastard colonel days, lovable even…
Roy looks up to meet Ed's eyes and offers him a small smile. He can imagine Roy greying at the temples, looking over at Ed just like this and— Woah. Ed was getting way too ahead of himself with that one. It takes Ed's brain a few seconds of rebooting before he realizes he's just been staring like an idiot. The half-smile he offers back is crooked and awkward, with a little too much teeth, but Roy's doesn't waver.
It’s not a date. So where the hell was Al?
“I'm sure he'll arrive any minute now; he's just running late.” Says the mind reader.
“Yeah, but you two are always so weirdly punctual. I swear if he got himself kidnapped again, I'll kick his butt.”
“I thought you would have cut back on mother-henning by now. Alphonse is a capable young man.” Roy huffs a laugh in that bastardly way of his that Ed still can't help but gravitate towards. Never mind how distracting his face becomes when that smirk is directed at him. Deepening laugh lines and a sharp tongue that darts out between his teeth have no right to be so damn attractive.
Caught between a callout he can't deny and his own increasingly impulsive thoughts, he shoots Roy a glare. Still, no truer words can be said about his little brother.
“Damn right he is.” Ed mutters before pushing off the wall and walking over to the phone booth a few paces away, his impatience and underlying worry winning out.
After fitting himself in the tiny glass booth, Ed lifts the phone from its cradle and feeds it a few cens. He had a few guesses as to where Al could be, and if any of them were right, he really would have to kick his butt. He nearly outed himself back there, and it was going to happen if Al didn't get his butt over here to run interference.
Twenty excruciating seconds later just as he was reaching for the hookswitch, he hears a click and one of his favorite voices filters through. “Elric residence.”
“Where. are. you.”
“At home?” Al says dubiously.
“Alright, smartass, why aren't you here yet?”
“Because I'm getting ready to head to a conference at the university in– about an hour.”
Ed ducks his head, covering his mouth against the receiver to muffle his screeches. “You told me that was next week! You're supposed to be here with me and Roy playing freaking mini-golf!”
Ed purposefully doesn't look in Roy's direction, keenly aware of Roy's eyes on him. A few heartbeats later, and Al's unenthusiastic voice crackles through the line.
“Shoot. Was that today?
“You're unbelievable, Al. Why are you flaking?”
Al sighs heavily. “You know, it's kind of puerile how obvious you are sometimes, and ignorance doesn't suit you. The General bought two tickets, Ed, two tickets. Honestly, what possessed you to invite me in the first place?”
“Wha– I panicked!” Ed squawks indignantly, tucking his bangs behind one ear.
“That's nice, brother, but I'm not going to third wheel that disaster. Either turn him down or get over yourself, but stop stringing him along. He stares at you like a kicked puppy when you're not looking. I feel bad for him. Now I really have to get going, so go enjoy yourselves! Hold hands and smooch, or try to one-up each other like children. Love you, byeeee.” Al's departing voice echoes.
“Al, you little shit. Wait—!”
Before Ed can get a word in edgewise, the sound of a stuttering dial tone is echoing loudly in his ear. He pulls the phone away to stare at it in disbelief, then gently returns it to its cradle.
Al set him up. This is totally a date.
Ed takes a deep, steadying breath and resists the urge to scrub his hands down his face. When did he become such a coward? He's never run away from a challenge before, and he won't start now.
So what if it is a date? So what if things change? He's not just some brat anymore; he's matured – somewhat – and should be able to trust himself not to fuck things up. They have history, yeah, but without their old commander-subordinate dynamics standing in the way, things could actually work.
So it's a date then, if that's what Roy wants, and whatever happens, happens. He'll just have to hope nothing implodes, like his whole life. One thing at a time, though. First they have to make it inside the building.
Chest out and shoulders squared, Ed squeezes his way out of the phone booth and rejoins Roy by the entrance, only to sheepishly rub the back of his neck when met with Roy's expectant gaze. "Yeah, so, Al bailed."
"Is everything alright?"
"Peachy. He just mixed his dates up, so he can't make it."
"There's always next time. I am a little curious about what he said to you, though. Because whatever it was, it sure seemed to amp you up. Did you know your ears blush when you're excited?"
Ed smacks a hand over his ear before he can think better of it, feeling it get hotter. He moves to hide it again with his hair when Roy stops his hand.
“Leave it. It suits you rather well.” Roy says, tucking gold strands back behind his ear and admiring the returning flush.
“Anyway,” Ed manages. “I'll pay you back for the extra ticket. So, are we still going in? Unless you have better things to do.”
“Sounds to me like you're concerned I'm going to smoke you at golf. I will say, with how often I've had to entertain the higher-ups on the green, your chances of beating me are slim to none.”
Ed takes the bait, thankful for the distraction, and his shoulders relax. “I knew your head was big, Mustang, but I didn’t know it was gigantic. How were you able to get through your front door this morning?”
“Mock me all you want; you’re only prolonging the inevitable.” Roy smirked.
“Oh, am I?” Ed gave a devilish grin of his own right back. “Come on, let’s see you put those oversized pockets where your mouth is then.”
x
Walking through the unassuming front doors, only to be greeted with sprawling miniature hills, was something alright. The transition from the stately brickwork of Central to the creative wood constructions and wonky manmade stone structures sprouting out of lush, bright green was only slightly bizarre in that it almost seemed like stepping through a portal.
Ed could see how kids – and old men, he thinks, throwing a sidelong glance at Roy – would get some kind of childlike wonder out of it. They make their way to the ticket counter, where a bored-looking employee exchanges them for putters and explains the fairly simple rules. Ed hefts the putter in both hands, getting a feel for it. It's light but strong, with enough weight at the end to give someone a good smack over the head if needed. Nice.
A shout of excitement calls Ed's attention as they make their way over to the first hole, and he looks in time to see someone manage to sink a shot further ahead. The loose, easygoing atmosphere and fresh air were nice, and thankfully it wasn't very crowded, with only a few groups of kids and adults milling around.
All in all, not a bad choice for a low-stakes date with room for some friendly competition thrown in. So the bastard actually thought this through.
“Not sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely something.”
“Where's your whimsy, Edward?” Roy admonishes.
“Here's your damn whimsy.” Ed holds up his fist and mimes a cranking motion as his middle finger is slowly presented in Roy's direction. It earns a startled laugh from Roy, and Ed can't resist smiling back, teeth and all.
Ed steps up to the platform mat marking the start of the course, which looks simple enough. A small flag sticking out of a hole in the ground about three meters away is his goal. It's a straight shot, but there's a slight elevation towards the end, so he'll need to control the force of his swing.
“How'd you even find this place? Didn't think a place crawling with kids would have been your first choice for an outing.”
“A new building on my route to work is fairly hard to miss. As for the children, seeing how you've barely grown, in height at least,” Roy emphasizes with a lingering once-over. “I figured you'd feel right at home.”
Ed's head whips up to look at Roy, standing there with his legs crossed and leaning on his golf club like a cane, looking as bastardly as ever. Big mistake. With a quick flick of his wrist, Ed smacks Roy's putter out of his hand with his own and smugly watches Roy tip over.
The comedic look of betrayal Roy's face would have been funnier if the move didn't immediately backfire on Ed. Instead of falling to the side like gravity intended, Roy decides to pitch forward. Ed instinctively reaches out to catch him just as Roy moves to himself on Ed's arm, and their chests collide with a muted thud.
“You left yourself open, Roy. That was too easy.” Ed says mildly, distracted by the warmth in his arms.
“You’ve always kept me on my toes, Ed, but if you wanted a hug, you could have just asked.”
Ed huffs and reluctantly pushes Roy off. “It's too hot for this; get off me.”
When Roy pulls away, though, Ed's nerves go wild, like nervous energy bouncing under his skin from the contact, and when he bends down to retrieve his abandoned putter, a pleasant shiver runs down his spine. Ed decidedly doesn't look at Roy when he tees up to try again.
“What's wild is that I've wanted to play mini-golf since I first saw it in Dublith way back when. More so when I was a kid, but yeah.” Ed's tongue sticks out in his concentration as he cranks his arm back to swing, eyes calculating the distance. “Good guess bringing me here.”
Ed takes the swing, and they both watch as the ball rolls smoothly across the green, disappearing into the marked hole in the ground.
“Nice shot. Let's see if your luck holds.” Roy’s overly confident, pretty mouth whistles. “And actually, you told me. You were talking about it with Alphonse in the office one day because there had been a new course in some town you passed through on your way to New Optain. Ernell, I believe?”
Ed pauses, turning a scrutinizing eye on the man. “I vaguely remember that conversation, but that was years ago. I'm actually surprised you retained anything with all the daydreaming you did back then.”
“That was strategic, feigned incompetence, and I think it worked rather well, don't you?” Roy says.
“Um, excuse me. General Mustang?”
A tap on his shoulder cuts the conversation short as Roy turns to see a young lady and a slight, older woman standing behind him. Her stance is shy, but when Roy turns fully, she straightens, and her eyes widen in delight.
“Yes?”
“Oh, it is you! I just wanted to say I loved your recent East City address! I just happened to be down there visiting, and it was lovely to hear your thoughts!” The young lady chirped. Edward snorts behind him, and Roy smiles, nodding politely.
“That's very kind of you, Miss. It's wonderful to hear that it resonated with fine citizens such as yourself.” Roy beams. “Do enjoy your time here. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
"Mustang? As in Roy Mustang?" The older woman interrupts, recognition coloring her expression. "Hmmp! I still remember all those news articles about your exploits. Why should I trust a politician who can't even commit to one woman?"
"Mother, that's rude!" The young lady hisses, scandalized. "She doesn't mean that, sir."
"It's more than alright. She's entitled to her opinions." Roy says diplomatically.
Roy feels Ed brush against his shoulder as he steps into view, and the young lady gasps quietly. “Oh, I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to interrupt your date! Come on, Mother, let's leave them alone."
They both watch as the older woman is promptly hauled away by her daughter, fussing over her conversation being interrupted. At his shoulder, Roy can sense the defensiveness radiating off of Ed, as if he were prepared to push back if warranted – and coming from someone like Edward, Roy understands that kind of loyalty is a gift hard-won. He can’t help but marvel that he’s earned it. It sends a sharp pang of heat to Roy's chest.
Ed is the first to speak, and the tension vanishes without a trace. "What the fuck was that?” He asks in mild disbelief.
Roy simply shrugs. “It happens sometimes.” Then he turns around, lining back up with the tee and turning his smug charm onto Ed. "Now watch this drive.”
x
Well, shit.
He hadn't anticipated such a blunder, though he probably should have. It's a rookie mistake to take Edward Elric lightly once he's set his sights on a goal. Many a foe has fallen in just this fashion, and it appears that now Roy Mustang's time has come.
“It's just simple calculations.”
Those are the words that herald his demise as Roy watches Ed sink another hole-in-one.
The sun had been beating down on them without mercy for what felt like an eternity, and each failed and fumbled shot had brought Roy closer to the brink.
“Simple calculations simply aren't enough, as you've been so gracious to demonstrate thus far.” Roy gripes.
“So just say that you're a sore loser and save us the time. You were talking such a big game earlier too.”
His turn again. Roy steps up to the tee, simple calculations triple-checked, eyes locked onto the target, and muscles tensed and ready for action. His putter pulls back, poised to strike when Ed blurts, “There's your problem.” Roy drags his gaze up to look at him, squinting under the sun's glare. “What?”
“For starters,” Ed walks behind him and claps both shoulders, squeezing gently. “These are too tense. You’re used to shooting for long distances, so you're putting too much power into your shoulders and it's messing with your aim.”
Roy lets the warmth of Ed's touch seep beneath his shirt and rolls his shoulders, letting them relax. He hadn't realized how rigid they were.
When Ed steps away Roy refocuses on the prize. The only thing stopping his golf ball from reaching the flag ahead is a short, serpentine path with elevated sides. It's a straight shot and Roy should be able to sink this in one go, no sweat.
He swings and the ball is off, sailing beautifully past the first two bends and passing a third before tragedy strikes. The breeze that had been gentle until now turns sharp, sweeping across the course. What otherwise would have been a welcomed respite, has just blown his chances of a surprise win from behind.
Roy watches, dismayed, as his golf ball rolls up the final elevated curve, giving it just enough momentum to shoot past the hole at an angle and hit the railing. Roy bites his lip to stop from cursing because what the actual hell.
Ed seems to have reached his limit as well. His snickering has given way to full blown laughter, fringe shielding his face as he clutches his knees. “Damn, your luck is just gone, isn't it?”
Roy sags in defeat. All he can do now is try and aim for a close second. “How can I be sure you didn't steal it?.” Roy sighs.
If luck was a finite resource like he always suspected, then Roy can only assume he'd used up most of it in that blistering desert, and again on that fateful day Edward entered his life. He only hoped that his luck held out long enough to keep Ed in his life for as long as possible.
Roy clears the 17th hole with a second shot easily enough, and onward they move to the final hole.
With a hand raised to shade his face and resignation in his eyes, Roy looks on while Ed prepares to sink yet another perfect shot. Arms outstretched and ready to win, Ed takes his stance.
"It's not supposed to be this easy for you." Roy mutters.
"Quit pouting already. I know my big, strong general can handle being bested at a children's game. Your ego isn't that fragile."
"Ed, please shut the hell up." Roy half laughs.
In that moment, everything unfolds at a snail's pace. Ed's grip tightens around the putter's handle, and he throws too much force into his swing. With a resounding crack, the ball goes soaring over heads and across the course, where it collides with the equipment racks behind the counter by the entrance with a loud crash, nearly hitting the startled employee. The man shouts something that neither of them registers, too busy staring at each other in wide-eyed surprise. The shade of red that blooms on Edward's face at his own word is mesmerizing.
“I– I mean– that's not what– you're not my—”
“Edward.” Roy cuts through his stammering, voice steady and unreadable. “Say it again.”
Ed pauses at that. Still blushing fiercely, his eyes turn sharp, and he faces Roy head-on with his fists clenched at his sides, like he's steeling himself for rejection.
“I called you mine, bastard.”
The declaration is steady and unwavering, and in two heartbeats Roy is closing the distance between them, telegraphing his movements.
“I could live with letting things go on as they were, solely because I want to let you go at your own pace. But once it's out there, I'm not letting you take it back.”
“I'm not taking anything back.”
Being allowed into Ed's space is something special; to finally be allowed to touch is something wondrous.
As one hand comes to rest on Ed's slender hip, a strong hand grips Roy's biceps like a lifeline. His eyes stay locked on that captivating shade of gold, looking for any sign of hesitation, and when he finds none, his other hand comes to rest on Edward's cheek.
Experiencing gold melt firsthand is fascinating. Ed's jaw relaxes under his touch almost on instinct, and his pupils dilate in anticipation. The urgency tugs at Roy's chest just the same, but he wants to savor this. His thumb traces over Ed's bottom lip in a silent question, and Ed answers, nodding a fraction, eyes never leaving Roy's. Message received.
The press of Edward's lips against his, chaste and sweet yet demanding in its intensity, was something indescribable. Pale lashes tickle his cheek when Ed's eyes flutter closed, and his expression softens further, mirroring Roy's every subtle movement. From the slight tilt of their heads to parting lips, it's near overwhelming just how perfectly they fit together.
The world outside of their little bubble makes itself known all too soon when Roy begins to feel eyes on them, and he knows it's time to part. He does so, however reluctantly, and to his delight, Ed chases after his lips, leaning forward before catching himself and pulling back. Roy watches in rapture, openly staring at Ed's tongue peeking out to lick kiss-stained lips in the few short seconds it takes for Ed to open his eyes.
Ed's gaze drifts to the hand still on his cheek, chewing on his lip, and he sounds just as breathless as Roy feels when he finally speaks. “It's strange how little this bothers me. I mean, I thought I needed more… time to adjust it.”
“This moves as slow or as fast as you need it to, Ed. I promise.”
Carefully removing Roy's hand from his cheek, Ed threads their fingers together, staring at their joined hands. He turns them over, eyes tracing the scar that mars both hands with an almost sort of reverence that leaves Roy a little lightheaded. “It feels right…” Ed whispers, seemingly to himself, and Roy trails his thumb back and forth along Ed's hand, not saying a word. He doesn't need to.
"Guess it's a good thing Al bailed." Ed mutters under his breath then gasps, turning an accusing glare Roy's way. "You knew Al wouldn't show!”
Roy snorts; he can't help it. “I did not! But I knew there was a good chance he might. I'll have to thank him for today. Hmm.”
“You know, he basically told me I was being dramatic over the phone earlier. My freaking out seems kinda lame now…”
“Don’t do that. You still needed time, and I was willing to wait.” Roy squeezes his hand. “We’re right where we want to be and right on time.”
Ed's brows knit together then, a scowl forming as he huffs a steadying breath. “I think I was in some kind of shock earlier because I'm kinda freaking out right now.”
Roy chuckles softly, “I can tell. Your pulse feels like a jackhammer. A distraction is in order. Shall we get back to me kicking your butt?"
It's with such confidence that Roy succeeds in startling a laugh out of Ed, who playfully pushes him away.
"Did we even play the same game? I kicked your ass! The only hole you didn't suck at was the windmill, somehow, but that was just dumb luck."
"If we're talking about me getting lucky, there's another hole that I would love to suck at."
"Holy shit." Ed breathes, face lighting up again. "Keep it in your pants, Mustang."
Scarlet and gold is such a lovely combination, and Roy doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing it on Edward's face. "You mean the well-tailored ones you've been eyeing all afternoon?"
"Well, your well-tailored ass can go sit on a tack if you think—!" Ed starts, and Roy immediately surrenders, catching Ed's hand again and squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. Ed, I meant what I said earlier. We’ll take this at whatever pace you like."
Ed deflates after a moment, squeezing back. Roy can see the way his lip quivers as he tries to smirk and doesn't mention it. "Just not used to your bastard suaveness being directed at me; it's intense."
"I apologize."
"You can make it up to me by making the next words out of your mouth be ‘Let's go get ice cream’ because it's hot as balls out here." Ed gives Roy a pointed look with record speed. "Shut your mouth."
Roy mimes zipping his lips shut, then mumbles through them anyway. "I know of a quaint little parlor nearby."
"God, you're an idiot. We should probably get out of here then. I have a feeling they're about to kick us out." Ed points to a differently-dressed employee stampeding their way.
Half bowing with a flourish, Roy gestures towards the door. "After you, my dear."
"Ugh, you're going to be like this all the time, aren't you? I can already tell."
Roy's telling smile is apparently answer enough, and Ed turns away. Their path to evade the approaching manager is clear in front of them, and Roy doesn't miss the small smile that disappears behind Ed's bangs as he pulls Roy along.