Better Living Through Alchemy

The SoAB had found themselves a mission which had started innocently enough. After school, Tom Pine helped his dad carry some broken desks to the dumpster. They had been held in storage in the hopes of having them repaired.

“But why are you throwing them away now?” Tom asked his father, who smiled.

“We need space in that storage closet,” Tom was told.

“But won't the school have to buy new desks now?” Tom pressed. “To replace these we are throwing out?”

“Well I suppose,” the elder Pine said, “but it's not my place to point that. I just do what the head of maintenance tells me.”

“Alchemy could fix these,” Tom said resolutely to which his father raised an eyebrow.

The Professor now had eleven broken desks in the back of his classroom and a group of determined Society of Alchemic Brotherhood members ready to accost him after class.

***

“This is your club project,” the Professor informed them, “so it's up to you to work out the array and get the extra materials, like screws. I'm only here so you can use the room after classes.”

But of course the Professor couldn't keep his nose out of anything, therefore they were all sitting on their knees, (Professor included), after having pushed all the good desks to the side. Seth had started the array; it was fairly large since they were going to have to put desk pieces into it. Daniel had lectured about the need for the wood element symbol and Boyd had drawn it in what they assumed was the appropriate place. The Professor's jaw was very tight and they all kept looking at him, waiting for him to butt in. He must have sensed this because he was being uncannily quiet and cleared his throat a lot whenever one of them wrote something on the array.

“Okay, I think we have everything,” Daniel said, setting his textbook aside. “Let's get a desk.”

“Screws,” the Professor said, then studied his gloved fingers as if he'd said nothing.

“I'll get some,” Tom offered. “My dad said we could have some from the maintenance department, I'll go get them.” The boy stood and brushed chalk dust off his knees, looked toward the door and raised his eyebrows. Then he grinned and threw his hand in the air.

“Hi Prince Ling,” Tom said cheerfully.

The rest of the group gave themselves whiplash, turning their heads, (the Professor included), and there stood the Xingian Prince in black silk and good humor.

“Hello,” the Prince returned, throwing up his own hand. He side stepped smoothly to allow Tom to slip out the door, then his gaze settled back on the group and the Professor in particular.

“You haven't been around for lunch,” Ed said and startled himself. It wasn't what the hell are you doing here? or what the hell do you want? like normal. Instead it was just an innocuous acknowledgement that the Prince's absence had been noted. There were no curse words attached, which was how he usually addressed the Prince.

It had been almost a week since he'd seen Ling, in the bathroom of General Culpepper's home. Ed mentally winced a little, remembering the sound of steel striking a flesh palm. He must be bruised to the bone and that drove the Professor to stand.

“Don't let me interrupt,” the Prince said cheerfully, then blinked as the Professor strode toward him.

“I'm going into the hall,” the Professor told the group, “don't transmute anything until I come back.”

“Well then hurry,” Daniel said. “We only got another half hour.”

The Professor gave him a look, grabbed the Prince's elbow which caused the Prince to give him a look, and herded the man outside the door, pulling it closed behind them.

“Okay, straight to the point,” the Professor said, “because I don't have a lot of time. How is your hand?”

“My hand?” the Prince echoed, looking confused.

“Your hand,” the Professor demanded, “you know, the one I hit... argh...” Ed grabbed Ling's arm then and slid his hand own to the wrist. The Prince obliged him, opening his hand palm up and Ed released his wrist to cup the back of Ling's hand with his own. He curled his thumb and fingers over it to steady it and it looked fine. Ed wasn't sure if he was seeing the edges of a fading bruise or not.

“We're holding hands,” the Prince said. “In my country...”

Ed sputtered and yanked his hand away, scowling.

“Keep your country in your country,” the told Ling's smirking face. “I just wanted to see if your hand was okay, because I hit it and I shouldn't have and I'm... sorry.”

The grin on the Prince's face softened at the edges and he bowed his head slightly.

“I too am sorry, in some ways I feel your ire was my fault,” he said.

“In a lot of ways it usually is,” Ed told him, “but it wasn't then. That was different and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were only trying to help... I guess. But yeah, um, thanks for that.”


The Prince actually opened his eyes, raised an eyebrow and turning his grin into more of a smile.

“You're welcome,” he said graciously. “Does this mean we are going to be friends?”

“I suppose we'll have to be,” Ed said, mouth flat, hands on hip, “because no matter how hard I try, I sure as hell can't get rid of you.”

“This fills my heart. I'll let you take me to lunch tomorrow,” the Prince said, grin returning in full force.

“Gee, thanks,” Ed sneered.

“We’ll go for that dish you like so well,” the Prince continued, “the one with the red meat sauce and the noodles not made of rice.”

“Okay,” Ed said with guarded optimism, “but we can't linger at the restaurant long because I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh?” the Prince inquired.

“You're not going, so forget it. We'll have lunch and then I'll leave,” Ed said and pointed at Ling.

Tom appeared then, carrying a box of screws, and looked up at the two adults as he opened the classroom door.

“Professor!” Daniel's voice carried to him from the crack in the door before Tom shut it behind him, causing Ed to turn and look.

“I have to go,” Ed said turning back, but Ling was already gone. Ed sighed, opened the classroom door and went back in. He resumed his seat on his knees to one side of the circle and watched the boys load one of the broken desks into it, carefully counting the missing screws and adding them as well.

“What you smiling for?” Daniel asked, scooting a bit closer to the Professor as Seth readied to lead the transmutation.

Edward didn't know really, or maybe he did. He looked at the assembled boys, all ready for him to show them how to transmute broken desks. That was enough to make him smile, he thought. All these boys were his friends even though he couldn't tell them that; you aren't supposed to make friends with your students. But now he had another friend, one that wasn't handed to him in the hopes of distracting him. Or maybe he was really in a way, but friendship probably hadn't been on the General's mind.

Ed had a friend he'd made himself. That shouldn't be counted as too great an accomplishment because people did it everyday, but he didn’t and he had, so it was. Ling was on the outside, not someone Ed had grown up around, not someone Ed had learned from or looked to. He was just a friend, it was as simple as that.

“Is it so strange for me to smile?” the Professor asked Daniel.

“Well sort of,” Daniel said. “I mean you smile, but you know, it's different.”

“Leave the Professor alone,” Seth said, “He was smiling because his friend was here, let's transmute this desk!”

Yeah, he was smiling because his friend was here. He laid his hands on the circle with everyone else and let Seth make a desk.

***

“I've got to call Al,” Ed half moaned when Roy's lips found his neck. The General gave a mild rumble, his lips traveled lower and Ed squirmed against him, trapped between a chest and the back of the couch.

“Roooyyy, let me call Al, and then... ah... and then...” Ed's mouth was silenced by Roy's own and Ed's fingers dug into Roy's shirt. He was trying to scoot to the end of the couch and was also trying to bring his flesh foot up to gently push Roy off, but the General wasn't a strategist for nothing and each coup that Ed attempted, was efficiently blocked.

“If I don't call Al now... you'll drag me off to bed and I won't get to… ah... ah... call him,” Ed whined.

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” the General murmured from the recesses of Ed's neck.

“It is and it isn't, I call Al every night,” Ed complained. “You're making me late, uh... please?”

Ah, defeat. The General unburied himself from his lover's neck, but ran his hands down Ed's body before leaning back. Ed sighed and sat forward, risking a kiss to the General's chin before squirming away quickly and getting up, heading for the den. R.D. decided to join him.

“What, you're leaving me too?” the General directed at the little terrier, causing him to pause in the archway of the living room door as Ed went into the hall. R.D. trembled in indecision and the General grinned. The little dog was an endless source of amusement, as was Ed's endless denial of affection for him. After a moment or two’s hesitation, R.D. ran back over the Roy and danced up on his hind feet, placing his paws on Roy's knee. He was rewarded by being picked up, cuddled and scratched.

***

“You're late,” Alphonse said, picking up the phone receiver and settling in the chair next to his phone stand. Sofia eyed him from the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“Sorry,” Ed said, “I got distracted. You know the routine questions,” Al's elder brother said.

“I'm fine, I'm eating well, the City is the same, the weather is lovely,” Al told him. “You should see the park, the spring flowers are coming in.”

“Sometimes I really miss it,” Ed sighed into the phone. “Okay, I think I've given you enough time to figure out whatever is it was you had to leave to fix. When are you coming back?”

“Well,” Al said slowly, eyeing Sofia as she made her way slowly into the living room and across the floor to him, “there's a new complication.”

“What would that be?” Ed groaned. “Why is it every time I think we're going to get some time together, things come up?”

“It's life,” Al said cheerfully, “but I have this new lady friend and I can't just up and leave her so quickly...” Al started.

“Lady friend?” his brother cut him off. “What lady friend? Do I know her? Where did you meet her?”

Ah, here we go. Al narrowed his eyes. Always the third degree from Ed. It was amusing, warming and downright annoying. Alphonse was only a year younger than his brother despite appearances and Ed seemed to want to think, on their whole journey, Alphonse had been oblivious to the things happening around him. Ed had it in his head that only he was the veritable harbinger of all memories dark and gloomy, and that somehow he'd miraculously shielded Al from any need to mature. Ed of course would make all the decisions, no matter how many times he caved in, he at least had to try. Why Al's love life was such a major concern, Al would never know.

“No, you don't know her,” Al said smoothly. “I only met her a couple of days ago myself. She was on the street and we ran into each other. She needed a place to go and I was feeling a bit lonely, so she came home with me.” Al studied his nails.

“You met her on the street?” Ed half hissed. “Doing what on the street?”

“She was very solicitous,” Al said. “At first she was a little hesitant, but after a little petting she followed me right home,” he said. “We got to know each other a little over a drink and then we went to bed.” Al listened to his brother's quickening breath over the phone.

“Alphonse,” Ed grated out. “I know that you are an age to like girls, but I was under the assumption you had your sights set a little higher. Is she gone now? You won't see her again?” Ed pressed.

“No, she's not gone, she's here right now as a matter of fact,” Al said, “watching me talk to you on the phone. I think she's a little jealous, she likes having me all to her self and I find I rather like that about her.”

“She's still there?” Ed squawked. “Alphonse,” he lowered his voice to a conspirator whisper, as if he could be heard over the receiver in the first place, “I know we've never had a talk about women, I was rather hoping that you and Roy had a talk about women since you two seem to talk about that sort of thing occasionally.”

“Talk about women?” Al said, trying hard to suppress the grin in his voice. “Brother, I'm not sure you're the one to talk about women with, I don't think you've had a lot of practical experience.”

“What do you mean?” Ed said, catching movement out of the corner of his eye and seeing Roy leaning in the doorway. “I've had plenty of experience; I know a lot of women.”

“I'm not saying you don't know them,” Al said, then shifted and resettled as Sofia climbed into his lap and made herself comfortable, “I know you have many acquaintances who are women. I mean... Brother, I mean intimately. You don't have any experience as far as I know… you're... how you are.”

“How I am?” Ed said slowly.

“You're gay,” Al supplied helpfully. “There's nothing wrong with it, in fact I quite envy the relationship you have with the General at times. I mean, I know we are close and all, but that kind of relationship....

“I’m not GAY!” Ed howled into the phone. “What is this? Some conspiracy between you and Winry?! She said the same thing! I'm not gay, why on earth would you think I was gay?” Ed stressed.

“Sleeping with the General tends to be a dead giveaway,” Al said into the phone, his amusement getting the better of him. “Brother, I'm just saying that perhaps you're not the best person to be dispensing advice when it comes to my dealings with the opposite sex.”

“How do you define gay?” Ed continued. “I've seen gay people, I don't act like that, and sleeping with Roy doesn't count,” he growled.

“Why doesn't it count?” Al asked. “The General is a man, you know.”

“He's not a man,” Ed snapped, and then saw Roy's eyebrow quirk very high and his mouth turn down at one side. “No, I don't mean it like that!” he called across the room.

“Then how do you mean it?” the General asked, hands on hips.

Alphonse started laughing and Ed tried his best to make his scowl an audible thing.

“Look you,” Ed snarled, “you're trying to turn this conversation away from the original subject and that was you, my own little brother, consorting with women of questionable character.” Ed nodded too, like Al could see that.

“You really whip out the formal when you think you need to lecture me,” Al said. “I tell you what, she's here on my lap right now, I'll let you speak to her.” Alphonse removed the receiver from his ear and gently laid it on the purring belly of the long haired calico cat in his lap. Sofia, for that is the name he'd given her, looked at it, sniffed at it, gave Al a disinterested look and then looked away. Al slowly lifted the receiver back to his ear.

“Did she purr loud enough for you?” he asked his huffing brother.

“Alphonse Elric,” Edward Elric said, “since when have you become such a brat?”

“Since my elder brother decided he was my mom,” Al returned and held the receiver away from his ear a bit. After Ed had calmed down, he tried again.

“Do you really think so low of me?” Al asked.

“It's not that,” Ed said, “I just think that sometimes you are too nice to people and they take advantage of you. I was also shocked because well, you told me you liked someone else.” Ed glanced again in Roy's direction, then made shooing motions at the man with his hand. Roy gave him a disgruntled look that clearly said they were going to discuss this not a man thing further, but left the room.

“That's going great by the way,” Al gushed over the phone. “Last night we went for dinner at Brio's.”

“Brio's,” Ed moaned. “I miss Brio's.”

“When you come to visit me, we'll go there,” Al inserted, “but nevermind that. Tonight we went to this little exotic cafe that had Ishbahlan coffee and date cookies and then we sat in the park for a while listening to a trio play on the park stage.”

“Okay, so you're going out,” Ed said. “Like on dates?”

“I would think that yes, the term date should apply, but somehow I don't think the Colonel thinks it does,” Al said and sighed. “She calls it going out with her friend, and that is fine. I guess it's fine. It's not fine. Ed,” Al said frankly, “I'm at a loss. Is the Pirate hanging around, I need some advice.”

“What? No I sent him out of the room, he's so freaking nosy,” Ed complained. “Why can't I give you advice? Have you tried to kiss her yet? Has she tried to kiss you? I think that's a bit strange kissing Hawkeye,” Ed rubbed the side of his nose.

“No, but kissing Colonel Mustang was perfectly logical,” Al said. “You're no help, let me speak to Roy.”

“Yeah okay fine,” Ed said, “run to Roy. After all, what do I know right?”

“Stop being so obstinate about it,” Al said. “We made him a part of this family and I for one want to tap into the resources. He used to date women before you ruined him.”

“I ruined him?” Ed gaped into the phone receiver. “You have no idea what you're talking about, I was a normal hormone-addled teenager before he decided to get all touchy-feely, thank you. You know I thought about marrying a girl once,” Ed said before he quite knew what he was saying.

“Like Winry would have you,” Al said, because he didn't know. Ed found relief in that until he realized he'd been insulted.

“That's not what Winry said,” Ed parried. “Look, that is all besides the point,” Winry made Ed feel guilty in unreasonable ways.

“Fine, I'll just call him at the office,” Al said. “Once again, you can entirely hog a conversation proclaiming your concern while running road blocks. You amaze me. You know, there are other people out there qualified to help me out, Brother. You've done your share.”

“You're my brother,” Ed started sounding hurt.

“Yes, and I thank all of creation for it, but Ed, it's okay to look after yourself now and let me do the same,” Al cajoled.

“I'm slow on the uptake,” Ed said wryly.

“It's okay,” Al said cheerfully. “We all love you for it.”

***

Roy was sitting up in bed with R.D. in his lap looking over the news digest when Ed ventured into the bedroom.

“Here you are,” Ed exclaimed. “I thought you'd be in the living room listening to music or something, are we going to bed now?”

“I wouldn't know, you're the man, you tell me,” Roy said.

Ed hung his head back, trudged across the room and just fell face first onto the bed near Roy's feet.

“Please don't torture me for that,” Ed said muffled by the comforter. “I didn't mean it like it sounded,” Ed raised his head and glared in Roy's direction. “Look, I just like sex with you. I mean, I don't think it matters about you being a man, it's just you. I don't look at other men and think about having sex with them, I don't look at women and think about having sex with them. I look at you and think about having sex with you a lot.”

Roy's smile grew into something other than a smile and Ed moaned at that too, burying his face back into the comforter.

“We need to make your ego closet space,” Ed said, muffled again and raised his head again when Roy shifted on the bed. The General stood and carried R.D. to the door, set him in the hallway, shut the door after he did so and turned to smile at Ed.

“That's really flattering,” the General purred, “that you think about sex with me a lot.”

Ed felt his cheeks heat up and he pushed up on the bed, climbing up onto it and turning to sit and look at Roy as he walked back over and sat next to him. Roy placed his hand over Ed's on the bed between them.

“I know what you meant,” Roy said. “You defy definitions, so I think it's a little unkind of your brother to tease you with a classification, especially one definitely have some preconceived notions about,” Roy grinned when Ed wrinkled his nose. Roy threaded his fingers through Ed's and lifted his hand, bringing Ed's fingers to his lips.

Ed watched as Roy pressed his lips to Ed's knuckles and just that tiny gesture made him immensely warm. It was true, everything he'd said to Al. Roy was the only person that made him think of sex. From the moment he'd first tried to puzzle out what sex meant, to this very moment sitting on the bed beside his lover; It was just Roy. Roy turned his hand over then and kissed the inside of Ed's wrist, then slowly down the inside of Ed's arm. His dark eye rose to catch Ed's and Roy slowly licked the crease of Ed's elbow, who swallowed and squirmed just a bit.

“You know,” Roy said lowly, “when I think about sex, I think about you a lot too. The way you look splayed out in the sheets with your hair loose over the pillow, the way you smell, like after a shower, the way you smell after we've made love, the way you taste, the way you moan.”

Ed offered him one then, a small, involuntary moan as Roy's lips left the ticklish area of his inner elbow and traveled his arm to his shoulder. Ed still had on his shirt but he could feel the heat of Roy's mouth through it.

“I even think about the way your automail smells of oil,” Roy husked. “The way it glints if we have the bedside light on while I'm pulling your clothes off,” and as he said it, he reached down, caught Ed's shirt and began to raise it. “There is nothing about you that doesn't make me think of you in this bed beneath me, letting me touch you, love you.”

Ed's eyes had gone half mast. He helped Roy remove his shirt, then dug his fingers into Roy's own shirt who smiled, releasing Ed and sitting back, letting Ed help him take his shirt off.

It was only natural the rest of the clothing followed and then Ed was halfway lifted, turned and laid into the pillows on his side. His lover's warm hand skated his body, around to his back, cupped his butt and drew him close. His bare stomach touched Roy's bare stomach and it sent a tiny electric shock through him, but Roy continued to pull on him. Roy pushed his leg between Ed's and then Ed could feel Roy's cock on the inside of his thigh with his own cock resting against Roy's. It made him throw his arm over Roy's waist and dig his fingers into Roy's back, who gave him a lovely moan as well. Roy bent his head and tilted his forehead against Ed's.

“This is Sunday morning stuff,” Ed said softly, “when we just like to lie around and touch each other.”

“Ummm,” Roy purred. “I like Sunday mornings too. Nothing pressing at all, it means I get to lie in bed with the man I love and make him feel good. He lets me touch his gorgeous body and do what I want,” Roy kissed across Ed's forehead.

“Well yeah... me too,” Ed said with a smile and what Roy knew was faint embarrassment. Ah yes, thank you maker. Edward was twenty-four now, but still, oh still, he had kept traces of the fifteen year old that once graced Roy's bed. Roy tilted his head further down and pushed his nose against Ed's, but Ed turned his face suddenly and tilted it up, and that was when Roy felt his eye patch move. Ed lipped the edge of it, then brought his hand up slowly, gently curling it around Roy's head, snagging his fingers in the strap. Nothing was said as he eased it up Roy's skull, trying to be careful of his hair. Nothing was said as he pulled it free and tossed it casually over his shoulder.

“Much better,” his younger lover said softly. Ed's lips then traveled the ruined side of Roy's face. Roy could feel them in places, but not in others. It was alright, he knew they were there. He tried to pull Ed even closer, working small circles with his fingers on Ed's back as Ed kissed over the bridge of his nose and to his other cheek, then down to his lips, where he nudged them gently. Roy parted his lips and Ed took the invitation, Roy brushing his tongue against Ed's, closing his lips and sucking a bit as Ed allowed. Ed squirmed closer, as if it was possible, and Ed's flesh hand ran up and down Roy's side, then over to his back and down to his butt. Now Ed was doing the pulling and he was trying to be sneaky, but Roy knew that the beginnings of the bump and grind were being played out, so Roy started them off, very slowly. His hips moved forward, he pressed them and moved them in a languid circle against Ed's.

Ed made a soft sound into his mouth and turned his face, breaking the kiss. His fingers pressed hard into Roy's butt and then he too began to move very slowly.

“This is you,” Roy said softly to him, “this is all my memories and all my fantasies. This need you have to rub against me; sometimes I think I felt you in my dreams. Ed, I never knew what I was missing until you came along to show me. I never thought of making a place in my life for someone else until you walked in and demanded room,” Roy raised his hand to tangle and tug in long blond hair. “You're a gift to me, when I think of everything I went through, you're like my reward. If I think about it hard enough, I think you saved me from myself.”

“That's backwards,” Ed said quietly. “Or maybe we saved each other.”

Roy half turned, snatching the bottle off the bedside table. Ed helpfully held it as Roy oiled up his fingers, then slid his hand between their bodies. Ed gasped when slick fingers closed over his cock, already full and at attention. Still, they moved together, the back of Roy's hand rising up against Ed's stomach with every lazy thrust. Roy tunneled his hand over Ed's cock and began to slide and tug it up and down in time to their thrusts. Ed wrapped his hand around Roy's, seeking to steal the heated oil, then his own hand found Roy's cock and together they squeezed and pulled, but it wasn't hurried. Roy drew up the arm he was laying on, bent it and laid his cheek on it, dark eye studying Ed's face, mouth a lazy smile.

Ed returned the look, his eyes moving side to side, his mouth not smiling but not frowning, then his lips parted for a soft moan.

“So beautiful, Ed,” Roy said.

“You too,” Ed said and Roy could tell it was a struggle for him not to drop his eyes and look away, but he was grown now. He let go of Roy and tugged on Roy's own hand even though he moaned lowly a little in denial when he was released, pulling Roy's hand from between them and pressing it onto his hip. Roy smiled softly and obliged him, running his slick fingers over Ed's hip and down to his butt, where he stroked him gently in the cleft before pressing a finger inside. Ed moaned and mouthed Roy's throat frantically for a few moments, then Roy slid in the second finger and began to move them slowly.

“Faster,” Ed begged and Roy ignored him. “More... Roy...” Ed sobbed and Roy did only what he wanted to do. Ed thrust his cock against Roy's lower stomach and slid his arm under to curl his hand over Roy's shoulder and shake him.

“Please,” Ed sobbed, his trump card.

Roy withdrew his fingers and Ed cried out, sliding his automail arm under Roy so both of his hands were on Roy's back, pulling. Ed then threw his leg up and over Roy's hip, who scooted down, thrusting his hips forward, positioning and guiding himself slowly inside of his lover. Ed was shaking all over, gasping softly and his fingers, flesh and otherwise, pressed almost painfully into Roy's back, but Roy didn't move more than to bury himself deeply, he just wrapped his own arms around Ed and held on tight.

Ed began to shift, but Roy just held him and Ed finally settled down, panting slightly.

“It's hard to be still,” Ed said, voice a tremor. “I want to move,” he wheedled. “It feels good,” he bribed.

“I know,” Roy said with a smile, but he did nothing more than lie there.

After another few moments, Ed moved again, lifting his hand and trying to push it between their bodies. Roy caught his hand despite Ed's weak protest and laced fingers with him, holding their clasped hands on Ed's hip.

“Roy, I want to move,” Ed tried again. “Let me touch you, let me touch me. Roy, fuck me,” Ed pleaded.

“What's the hurry?” Roy said huskily. “Just being inside you is enough to make me thank god I'm alive,” he teased. “Don't you like it, Ed? Won't the anticipation make it so much better when I do this...” Roy thrust once and Ed threw his head back, groaning loudly.

“Do that more,” Ed said raggedly, “more and more, Roy...” Ed tilted his head down, his breath deepening. Then he seemed to set his jaw and he squeezed, causing Roy's eye to widened as he let out his own groan.

“More,” Ed whispered and tightened again. Roy's brow furrowed, his eye closed and he thrust, giving an almost helpless sound.

“Don't stop,” Ed commanded and Roy nodded once, releasing Ed's hand in favor of gripping Ed's hip.

“Love you, fucking love you, love this,” Ed growled, pressing his face into Roy's throat, his own hand moving to Roy's hip to tug and encourage.

“Ed,” Roy growled and then rolled, pushing Ed onto his back and moving up between his legs; Ed half yelled encouragements as he wrapped his legs over the back of Roy's, arching his back.

It was just heat and rhythm and their voices mingling. Ed's hands found their way to Roy's ass and he pulled hard, opening his mouth on Roy's shoulder and sobbing against it. Roy shoved up on his hands, his arms shaking, arching his own back as if to get deeper as they rocked there, hard and steady for long moments. Then Ed half shrieked and Roy cried out as Ed bore down and came against Roy's stomach. It wasn't long after that, with Ed gasping breathless encouragements and still moving to Roy's last desperate thrusts. Roy climaxed, sagged and was pulled against Ed's own heaving chest as Ed's hand stroked over his head and neck, making small pleased sounds. Roy nuzzled him and Ed grinned and half laughed, then Roy withdrew slowly and rolled to the side.

Ed rolled with him, pushing up against his chest and they lay like that for awhile, catching their breath, holding each other.

Roy eventually tugged the sheet up and tucked it around Ed, who was more or less purring against his chest, and Roy couldn't resist dropping kisses over his ear and along his jaw. He then realized Ed's hair was still in it's ponytail and reached back to free it.

“You take such good care of me,” Ed said in his spent, gravely voice.

“It's a job with a lot of perks,” Roy told him, stroking his fingers through Ed's freed hair. “I wouldn't give it up for the world.”

“Not likely to get fired either,” Ed said sleepily.

“Good,” the General chuckled, “because I have a lot of years invested in the end product.”

Ed tilted his face up to look at him, giving a half grin.

“Up to specs?” Ed said, “Not going to trade me in for a newer model?”

“I have news for you, you are the newer model,” Roy told him. “Funny how that works, the older you get, the newer you are.”

Ed's grin slid into a half smile and he hitched himself up to kiss his General.

***


The Prince had a sucker in his mouth and he strolled along at Ed’s side like he had not a care in the world, twirling the stick and occasionally pulling it out of his mouth to contemplate it before sticking it back in.

“I think I remember specifically telling you that you weren't coming with me,” Ed said, looking at him sidelong and trying to pretend he wasn't with the prince even though they were walking side by side.

“Umm, cherry,” the prince said, pulling the sucker out of his mouth again. “I'm not coming with you, we are merely going the same way.”

“That is what you said two blocks ago and I made two fake turns to test the theory,” Ed informed him, “you're following me.”

“Ah, guilty as charged,” the prince admitted freely once he'd been found out. He stuck the sucker back in his mouth and then clasped his hands behind his back, letting it freeform hang there.

“You're impossible,” Ed grumbled. “If you do anything to mess up this interview, I'll kill you. I really want this man to be in the exhibition, he's got an impressive record.”

Ling looked at Ed, tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow.

“He's done some very humanitarian things,” Ed said, “like purifying water supplies and developing revolutionary irrigation techniques.”

Ling unclasped his hands and popped the sucker out of his mouth.

“Very helpful, but exceedingly dull,” was the prince's opinion.

“He changed the course of a river,” Ed said. “He held back floodwaters once until a proper structure could be erected... he's made water dragons,” he finished, looking to the side.

Ling twirled the sucker in his fingers and smiled.

“Water dragons? Like sculptures?” the prince asked cheerfully.

“Yes, I've seen pictures,” Ed said, “I figured he kids would like them.”

“You like them too,” Ling nodded, returning the sucker to his mouth.

“So?” Ed said, then fished the address out of his pocket again, slowing. He double checked it to the mailboxes on the street and looked up at a two story gingerbread-type dwelling. It was fanciful and done in colors not quite corresponding with the rest of the street. It had decorative trim and railings, and shutters with adornments. There was a neat little fence enclosing the front yard with a gate and the lawn was immaculately trimmed and adorned with small statuary.

Ling pulled the sucker out of his mouth with an audible pop.

“This house is purple and pink,” Ling observed. Then he stuck the sucker back in his mouth.

“A fat lot you know,” Ed said, “that's not purple and pink.” He turned toward the prince. Ling put his hands behind his back again and slowly rotated the sucker stick in his mouth to the 'up' position.

“It's burgundy,” Ed said and bent his head forward a bit, “and that would be... mauve.”

The sucker stick in the prince's mouth went to the 'down' position.

“What the fuck does it matter anyway,” Ed growled, pushing open the gate. “You should talk, you're wearing purple too!”

Ling pulled the sucker out long enough to say, “This is plum!” helpfully before sticking the sucker back in.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ed snarled heading up the walk. “I'm warning you, one stupid remark out of you...” Ed turned around and drew his fingers across his throat. As he did so, some of the small stone statues on the lawn caught his attention and he slowed to a stop.

Ling stopped behind him and they both studied the sculpture for a moment. It appeared to be two children, but not quite. They had pointed ears and small stone wings that were mosaics covered in tile. They were barely wearing anything and if you looked hard enough, they almost looked to be playing leap frog... almost. Ed and Ling looked at each other slowly.

“I'm sure that's not what we think it is,” Ed said hastily. “I mean, there are a thousand different interpretations in art, if this is art, and you wouldn't put something like that on your lawn for people to see.”

Ling bounced his sucker stick up and down in his mouth, hands still clasped behind his back.

“Well you wouldn't, unless you do it in your country,” Ed said, eyes narrowing a bit.

Ling moved the sucker stick from one side of his mouth to the other and looked sidelong at Ed.

“I am never setting foot in Xing,” Ed informed him, then continued up the walk. Ling fell into step behind him and hopped up the steps onto the porch, but rolled his eyes innocently when Ed turned to glare at him.

The door was big and oak with three small windows placed along the top. It had a heavy brass door handle, curved in a delicate arch outward as if inviting the visitor to clasp it. There seemed to be no doorbell, but in the middle of the door, eye-high, (to everyone but Ed), was a large, ornate, brass door knocker. At least it appeared to be a door knocker, or would be a door knocker if it were on a normal door. It was shaped like a mermaid, or presumably a mermaid, the kind that adorned the bow of large pirate ships in many a child's tale. She was very well endowed and didn't bother to hide it, instead thrusting her chest proudly forward, perked and alert, and she had a rather come-hither look to her eyes that belied the serene smile on her face. Ed cast about for the doorbell again.

Ling pointed at the mermaid's chest, but Ed shook his head and scowled, studying the doorframe hard as if the bell would magically appear by sheer mental force alone.

Ling pointed again, jiggling the sucker stick up and down, and Ed looked at his finger, then at the brass mermaid and frowned.

“That's just for ornamentation,” Ed said, “it doesn't even have a big ring to act as the actual knocker,” he told the prince.

Ling withdrew the sucker from his mouth with one hand and reached forward with the other, placing his fingertip right over a pert nipple and pressing. The sound of loud chimes filled the porch, starting high and ending low, then high again for just a moment. The tones lingered even after the prince pulled his finger back.

“How was I to know that was the bell?” Ed grumbled.

“You're afraid to touch them, aren't you?” the prince grinned and Ed whirled on him. “No wonder you sleep with the General; it's a real shame, they are a lot of fun.”

Just as Ed turned scarlet and opened his mouth to grind the prince's bones with the sheer force of his retort, there was the sound of a lock being turned and a latched being opened. He took a deep breath, tried to murder Ling with his eyes and then turned around and subdued himself. The man who opened the door was an older gentlemen and he seemed to blink in surprise at Ed and Ling standing there on his porch. His hair was white and immaculately styled, and he was dressed sharply in what looked to be an indigo, crushed velvet vest over an arrow-collared, white, starched shirt and dark slacks. Ed and Ling blinked back at him owlishly and the man broke into a delighted smile.

“Please tell me,” he said, his voice smooth and light, “that one of you fine young gentlemen is Professor Elric.”

At first Ed wasn't sure he wanted to answer, but Ling elbowed him and Ed cleared his throat and smiled.

“That would be me,” Ed said and offered his own smile. “We were told you would be expecting us... well, that is, me,” Ed glanced at Ling again. “Your niece who works with General Mustang's office referred us?”

“She did indeed and you will have to remind me before you leave to write her into my will,” Otto Dunbar said. “Come in, come in, no need to waste such fine scenery on the front porch.”

Ling had to get behind Ed and push him through the doorway bodily.

***

Ed kept having to grab Ling's sleeve and pull him along. The long hallway of the house was adorned with many interesting prints, many of which Ed tried hard to ignore, but the Prince had other ideas and would stop to admire them along the way, until finally Mr. Dunbar showed them into a large sitting room. It was furnished in heavy, dark furniture, all ornately carved and upholstery-soaked. There was a large collection of artwork adorning the walls in this room as well, along with many interesting figures and carved lamps. Two very nubile young men, extremely naked, were intertwined in polished marble, grins firmly in place as they vied to hold aloft a large, glass lamp shade. Ed once again had to be edged into the room by the Prince's hand on his back and Otto smiled pleasantly, indicating the sitting area. An armrest couch with a rounded back sat facing two equally curvy armchairs from across a glass-topped coffee table. The table’s base was black and also seemed to be naked young men delighted to be holding their burden aloft.

Ed edged over to one of the chairs, perched right on the edge of it and fisted his hands on his knees, plastering a smile on his face, (even if it was a bit strained). The Prince approached the couch and smoothed himself as if to sit elegantly, (as elegantly as one can sit with a sucker stick protruding from one's lips), but on the way down, he dropped the pretense and sprawled, still managing to do it gracefully. Otto clapped his hands together once and then opted to sit on the couch with Ling, (much to Ed's dire relief).

It hit Ed then, (right in the forehead because really that was the only way to get his true attention), that he had not yet introduced Ling. And here he was worrying about the Prince's manners.

“This is Prince Ling Yao, of Xing,” Ed said, gesturing with his hand. “I hope you don't mind his accompanying me,” it was odd to feel so relieved that for once he was appreciative of the Prince's tenacity.

“A real Prince,” Otto almost cooed. “Why heavens no, why would I be offended, I'm very honored to make your acquaintance, your highness,” He got back to his feet and half bowed to Ling, who merely pulled the sucker from his mouth and bowed his head.

“It is our honor to be so welcomed,” Ling said imperiously, then grinned. “I used the royal honorifics just for you.”

“Well, I am just beside myself,” Otto said, and took his seat again. “Are you a good friend of the Professor's?”

Ling didn't reply, instead he stuck the sucker back in his mouth and both he and Otto turned to look at Ed, perched like a frightened squirrel in a massive armchair.

“He's an acquaintance that I've come across in my line of work,” Ed said, nose tilting upwards. “My official capacity is that of 'cultural liaison'.”

“Well, you've certainly shown him the delights of the Amestris confectionary,” Otto said.

Ling wiggled his eyebrows and clasped the sucker stick, making a few quick in and out motions with it.

“I apologize,” Ed grated out, “for the prince's obsession with a child's sweet. I didn't give it to him and he invited himself along.”

Ling grinned around his sucker and Ed stiffened as Ling's eyelid slid slowly down, but he checked it at the last moment, not quite making it a wink.

“He seems to be enjoying it, who are we to judge? Different cultures and the like. May I offer you a drink, Professor?” Mr. Dunbar stood again. He was a thin man, seemingly straight up and down, and his hands were small, almost delicate. He gestured at a small mahogany bar as he approached it.

“It's late enough in the afternoon to enjoy a few tipples before dinner,” the man continued. “What is your pleasure? Cognac? Whiskey? Perhaps a cordial?”

Ed's stomach did a roll at the last utterance. It still impressed Ed that all these years later his stomach still held a grudge for one mischief-filled day with his brother and an absent Colonel.

Ling popped the sucker out of his mouth and called cheerfully, “Cherry cordial?”

“Of course your highness, nothing but the best after all,” Otto moved behind the bar and brought up some glasses from beneath it.

“Not for me, thank you,” Ed said. “I'm not much for liqueurs.” Well, that wasn't quite the truth, it's just they weren't much for him.

“I have wine,” Otto further offered.

Ed smiled and shook his head.

“He likes juice,” Ling supplied. “He's very moderate for someone with such a fine ego. I suppose it could be admirable in the right settings.”

Ed glared at Ling, gritting his teeth to keep from responding. Otto rubbed his chin, then smiled and nodded.

“I've cranberry, will that suit? You know, temperance isn't something to be mocked, there are many times in my own life I wish I'd known the meaning of the word,” Otto said.

“Cranberry is fine,” Ed said tightly, trying to issue death threats to the Prince with his eyes, but Ling kept his eyes on their host and stuck the sucker back in his mouth.

Otto came back with the drinks and Ed got to his feet to accept his, but the Prince just held up his hand, all lazy indifference, and Otto once again took the seat next to Ling, with Ed sitting back down as well.

“Such learned and esteemed company,” Otto said, taking a sip of his own drink and crossing his legs. “Of what use could I possibly be to the FullMetal Alchemist? He is, without a doubt, the paramount of our very profession. Now he educates the future leaders of our country and puts his knowledge to very much use, while I myself languish away my waning years in literature, the fine arts and any other sort of hedonistic indulgence I can find.”

Ling popped the sucker out of his mouth and grinned. “You should be a prince,” he supplied before inserting the sucker again.

Otto smiled and tipped his glass toward Ling who leaned forward to tip his own glass back. The glasses clinked merrily and both men took a sip after they'd pulled back.

“Um,” Ed said, “I thought your niece mentioned the exhibition?”

“Oh yes that's right, an exhibition for the Academy,” Otto waved his hand in front of his face and took another sip of his drink. “The chance to mold the minds of fine young men,” he said and looked at the Prince.

The Prince liberated the sucker from his mouth again.

“It's an excellent opportunity to show the next generation how it's done,” Ling said. “They could use all the experience they could get. The Professor's lot is especially malleable at the moment, like little sponges. It's his superior teaching techniques you see,” back into the mouth the sucker went and the eyes of the prince's trailed across the coffee table to rest on said Professor.

“I read an article on your water sculpting techniques,” Ed forged ahead. “I saw some pictures of your display at Grand Caypointe.”

“Grand Caypointe has the most excellent resorts,” Otto said and Ling made an interested sound, raising his eyebrows. “Oh yes,” Otto continued, “they have these private cabanas simply tucked away amidst the majestic palms. In the morning, a dazing sight awaits you right outside our very bedroom window. The waves, the first rays of dawn, but I tell you there were many nights I didn't have to wake up to see them. I was well entertained until they came spilling over the sands. Their room service staff is simply the crème of customer service; those darling dark-skinned lads in their pristine white coats would do anything to please, and I do mean anything,” Otto and Ling shared a small laugh and a sip and then they both glanced over at Ed who looked like he was torn between a fight or flight response.

“Oh but yes,” Otto soothed the Professor, “I did do quite an intricate display of solidified water shaping and I think I could be persuaded to do so again,” he smiled.

Ed was suddenly terrified. Never had he been so uncertain of an offer before, not even the homunculus Greed had made such a deal seem so horrific. Before he could force his cowering brain to formulate a reply, the Prince inadvertently saved him with an interruption.

“Tell me about some of your art collection,” Ling said, having removed the sucker again. “I detect a few Xingian influences here and there, but the overall effect is quite foreign to me.”

“Would you like a tour?” Otto asked.

“Oh yes,” the prince said jumping to his feet. “I'm such a fan of culture, I have to have a guide,” Ling grinned.

“About the exhibition,” Ed tried but Ling waved his hands at him.

“It's all you've gone on about practically since the day I met you, you're supposed to be my liaison and you've finally lived up to your job,” the Prince informed him. “Let's take a few moments to experience some culture, Professor, that has nothing to do with a restaurant menu,” then the Prince grinned.

Otto had climbed to his feet as well and Ed's jaw hung open as Ling swooped down on him, grabbing him by his arm and hauling him to his feet.

“We can start with the photographs,” Otto said. “I'm such a fan of Kugel, I know you will be too, come along boys,” and he led the way out of the room with the Prince following and the Professor dragged behind.

***

“It makes me think of midnight,” Otto said as he and Ling both leaned over a particular print laid out on the library table. “The dark lines, the deep tones you could lose yourself in if you are not careful, sometimes I even think I might fall into it and never find my way back out.”

The Prince bounced his sucker stick up and down in his mouth, his hands clasped behind his back, his long black hair trailing over his shoulders as he bent over the table. Edward stood back, mute testament to what he did not know. He had been called prodigy... genius... alchemist, but none of these titles gave any comfort in the face of things beyond the scientific, and art was certainly one of them.

He'd listened before with the intent to absorb knowledge as a man in a gallery led him and the Colonel around, explaining the significance of each piece on display. It had been one of those endless state functions that the Colonel used to attend with regularity and force Ed to come along. Ed really gave it his all, determined to sort out this art world, in its own way as mystifying and oblique as the philosopher's stone. In the end, he admitted defeat, (and drowsiness), chalking it up to one of those things he was never meant to know. With a mocking grin, told the Colonel that in its way, 'art' was more elusive than any philosopher's stone.

Not that he considered nude photographs of men lounging about on animal hides art. Or even the men with the big balls, (in their hands!), sepia toned or black and white, it didn't matter. Who would call simple pictures of naked men art? Wasn't art supposed to be creative? Alchemy was called an art because of the word 'creation.' It was the art of making something out of something else, but hadn't Ed heard somewhere that life imitated art? He'd never known any male of his acquaintance to want to do anything remotely like that in the nude... well, the General didn't count... and they had no big... round spheres at home for the General to hold aloft anyway.

“Would you like to see the naughty stuff,” Otto asked the prince, eyes narrowing in mirth, fingers to his lips.

The Prince returned the gesture, nodding and smiling, sucker stick bobbing eagerly.

“As fascinating as this all is,” Ed suddenly injected loudly, “I'm afraid I have to ask you more about the exhibition. It's getting late and I'll have to leave soon to catch my ride home.”

Otto and Ling both turned to look at him and Ed appealed directly to Ling with his eyes, as if asking for deliverance. After all, in his opinion, they'd already seen plenty of 'naughty stuff', so he was very trepidacious about what the true 'naughty stuff' just might be.

“Besides, I'm sure Ran Fan is tired of lurking on the roof or whatever,” Ed cajoled Ling. “If you don't mind, Mr. Dunbar? I'm really marveled by your generosity in hosting, but there was a point to this meeting.”

Ling pulled the sucker out of his mouth and looked at Otto.

“I have to admit that he is right, I did eclipse his original purpose of this visit,” Ling bowed to Ed. “My humblest apologies, Professor.”

“I do rather get carried away, it's just you're both so interesting and charming, you'll forgive me?” Otto said and smiled at Ed.

“It's just I'm not sure that you accepted the invitation,” Ed said, relief setting in. “If you are, I'd like to go over what you might like to do and perhaps we could do something in conjunction...”

“There is no need for him to forgive you,” Ling said to Otto, almost as if Ed hadn't spoken. “It's my fault really. I thought that the Professor might like to get to know a bit more about his culture.”

“I'm well versed in my own culture, thank you,” Ed said. “Mr. Dunbar...”

“I don't mean the Amestris culture,” Ling said cheerfully. “I'm only practicing your vaulted equivalency. I'm talking about the...”

Ed got it then, he simply got it. “Ling,” he said warningly.

“...gay culture,” the Prince finished and blinked at him, smiling.

“Oh,” Otto Dunbar said with obvious delight. “Are you gay?”

Edward Elric, Professor of Alchemy and former State Alchemist, exploded.

“I'm!” he shouted, drawing his fists up to his chest.

“Not!” he screeched throwing them into the air above his head.

“GAY!” he howled slamming them down hard in emphasis.

Otto and Ling both blinked.

“What is with you people?!” Ed shrieked. “First it's Winry, then it's Al and then it's Roy and I try to tell people over and over I'm not gay! Do I look gay, do I act gay, do I sound gay?! I'm just ME! I don't want a label I don't need one! I don't care if anyone likes or dislikes the fact that I sleep with the General who happens to be a man, it's the General and only the General for me! LOOK! LOOK!” Ed ran over to the table, scrabbled through the prints and held aloft one of the nude photographs. “This man is NAKED! He does nothing for me! If I were gay, I would get turned on by looking at him being naked and the big ball he's holding over his head, but I'm not! I don't even care to look at him being naked with a big ball over his head! I don't care if this picture was even taken! He could keep his clothes on for the rest of his life as far as I'm concerned and never show me an inch of skin because naked or clothed I don't care because he's not Roy! I only like to look at Roy naked! That's it! I don't even like to look at girls naked! It makes me uncomfortable! They aren't Roy either, so why should I care?! It's not because I'm gay! I just have what I want and why does everyone out there seem to think I need to be placed in a neat, explainable package for their own comfort! I don't care if you like me! I don't care if you hate me! What I do care about is not what other people think, just what I think! And what Roy thinks! And what Al thinks and that's it and maybe Winry and Pinako and Havoc and all those guys at the office, but that's just because they are my friends and family and I care what they think, but I don't care about you or the world at large because it doesn't matter! QUIT CALLING ME GAY!”

The Prince was jiggling his sucker stick up and down and Otto Dunbar had his eyebrows raised. Ed threw the print down on the table, charged over and snatched the sucker out of Ling's mouth, threw it to the rug and slammed his heel down on it.

There he stood panting, the remains of a cherry-flavored sucker sticking his heel to what looked to be an expensive woven rug. He studied the red shards arranged in a ragged aureole around the toe of his shoe and very slowly lifted his eyes to the two other men in the room.

The Prince regarded him a moment, hands still clasped behind his back.

“I can see this really upsets you,” Ling said.

“I'm terribly sorry,” Otto Dunbar added, fingertips to his chin, “I had no idea.”

Ed groaned. His head sagged forward and he reached up to pull his gloved hand down his face.

“Please don't apologize, Mr. Dunbar,” Ed said, hiding his eyes. “This is entirely my own fault and I am the one who should be apologizing to you. It really has nothing at all to do with you and you've been nothing but kind... and I smashed a sucker into your rug,” Ed finished lamely. Really, he was beyond pathetic. “I most certainly understand if you don't wish to be in the exhibition, after this...” Ed spread his hands helplessly, “I wouldn't want to be either.”

“On the contrary, I'd be delighted,” Otto Dunbar said pleasantly. “Why, I was terribly flattered when I learned that the famous FullMetal Alchemist wanted to see me. It's been such a while and I was so happy to be able to relive a bit of my glory days, if only for the delight of children. Really, what is a nobler cause?”

Ed's head snapped up and he looked at the man.

“You mean you'll do it?” he said faintly.

“Of course,” Otto said. “I do so like a good exhibition, and it will be a chance to mingle with the military's finest. You are right; labels can be a terrible thing. They can hurt a person, ruin their chances and bring pain to their life, but we forget things like 'famous' and 'wonderful' and 'amazing' are labels too. People have this awful tendency to pay attention to the more negative aspects, so for the people who are labeled, it would be best to set a good example. I admire that you have such a strong sense of self and you will be who you are no matter what others think. That takes great courage. I would be proud to be part of your exhibition, if you will have me. I've always heard such wonderful things about you, how fortunate am I that they have all been proven true?”

Ed stepped forward, winced at the cracking of hardened sugar under his feet and grabbed Otto Dunbar's hand.

“You have no idea how much this will mean to the boys,” Ed said. “Thank you very much Mr. Dunbar, I really do appreciate it.”

“Ed likes dragons,” Ling said cheerfully. “He talked about your dragons on the walk over.”

“I do, I do like dragons,” Ed said still shaking the man's hand. “Let me fix your rug,” Ed released Otto's hand, clapped his own together and knelt. When he stood again, he held a complete (if fuzzy with rug lint) sucker in his hand and offered it to the prince. Ling took it slowly, inspected it and let it hang between his forefinger and thumb rather sadly.

“Please call me Otto,” Mr. Dunbar said. “Thank you for fixing my rug, now what is it I can do for you, Professor Elric? I am now at your disposal.”

“Can you come to lunch with the Prince and I tomorrow?” Ed suddenly asked. “It's gotten so late and I have to be heading back, I'd really appreciate it if you could join us.”

“My pleasure,” Otto said, smiling. Ling looked between them and then smiled too. “I am already formulating some ideas for the display.”

Ed and Otto quickly made lunch arrangements while the Prince stood and mourned his sucker. Otto walked side by side with the prince as he escorted them back to the door and gave him a sympathetic pat on his arm.

“I'm terribly sorry, but you know they can be had at any shop on any street corner,” Otto told Ling, opening the door. “Are you going to be participating in the exhibition, Highness, or merely lending your esteemed royal presence?”

Ed started to make a quip about it, but Ling cut him off.

“I was thinking that perhaps Ran Fan and myself could give a demonstration of Xingian hand to hand combat techniques,” the Prince said. “You know, the Professor's enthusiasm is very inspirational. Did I mention that this exhibition has been at the forefront of his mind since I met him all those weeks ago?”

“You did, and I think that would be an excellent display. I must say I've always admired the sleek grace of the Xingian combative forms. Some of the same moves are practiced in Xingian exercises and meditation, I had an opportunity once to study closely with a lovely young Xingian man,” Otto gave a wistful smile.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” Ed said, opening the door. “I really hate to rush off like this, come on Ling,” Ed stepped out onto the porch and Ling paused to hand the sucker to Otto, who smiled indulgently and took it. “You boys be careful, see you tomorrow.”

He stood in his doorway and waved as they went down the walk, through the gate and turned down the street. Ed pushed his hands into his pockets as they walked along, looking sidelong at Ling.

“So, you spar?” the blond alchemist asked. “For pleasure or for real?”

“I have a feeling I could do a fair mix of both at the same time,” the Prince said, returning the sidelong look.

“Good,” Ed said with a slow smile. “Because I only do it for real.”

At the intersection on the street, Ed caught a cab and headed back toward the Central Military complex and the Prince watched him go. Ran Fan soon appeared at his elbow and they looked at each other for a long moment. He was a bit disappointed when the sucker she gave him turned out to be grape instead of cherry.

***

“How did it go?” Roy asked on the ride home.

“As per my usual,” Ed said and sighed. “I made a complete ass of myself, but the people around me are always bigger than I am. I don't mean that physically,” Ed said quickly. “What I mean is that he let me act like an imbecile and still agreed to help me. Really, it's a talent, I ought to try and bottle it for sale.”

Roy chuckled softly and reached over to pat Ed's hand on the seat between them.

“You really are irresistible,” the General said.

Ed laid his head back on the seat and rolled it to look at Roy.

“What I am is a great big contradiction in terms,” Ed sighed. “I always say I don't care what people think and then I go and get all overreactional about a stupid word. I'm a complete loser.” Ed rolled his head back and stared at the car ceiling. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Because I'm lucky,” the General said. “Of course I should have said out of habit or something similar, but something tells me that today you've reached your being teased quota and I should be nice. I'm perceptive like that, you know.”

“Yeah,” Ed said. “That makes me lucky, too. Has anyone ever called you gay?” Ed asked slowly.

“No,” Roy said. “Why do you ask?”

“Is it because you used to date girls?” Ed said, mouth pulling down on one side.

“Don't be silly,” Roy laughed. “It's because I have rank. We dogs are rather obsessive that way. I'm sure I've been called quite a few things when I'm not around to bristle and thrust out my chest medals, it doesn't really matter what others think.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, “that's what I always say. Looks like we're going to have a really great exhibition, though. There will be Alex, Otto, me and Al. At least I hope there will be Al if I can drag him away from East City. Guess what? The Xingians want to show off some hand to hand. Prince Dainty-Ass says he spars.”

“Ling spars?” Roy said, risking a glance in Ed's direction. The blond man was developing the sort of smile that sent chills down Roy's back.

“Yeah, fancy that,” Ed said. “I might be a bit rusty, but it's okay, I'm sure I could use the exercise.”

“If you break him, I'll get in a lot of trouble,” Roy said.

“Don't worry, I promise not to break off anything that can't be put back on,” Ed said with a cackle and wiggled his automail fingers.