Blind Date
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,526
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,526
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: Blind Date
Pairing: RoyxEd and hints of RizaxWinry
Rating: NC17 overall (language and graphic sex... yay!)
Timeline: None- AU
Summary: When Roy Mustang, an egotistical man-whore, and Ed Elric, a temperamental teen, are set up on a blind date by well-meaning friends, anything can happen.
AN: Last time- Roy fucks up right off the bat... way to go, Roy.
Blind Date
Chapter 2
After a twenty minute car ride that felt more like an hour, they were being seated at their table.
It was a nice restaurant; four stars, five stars, whatever. To Roy, it was nothing to get excited over; he never paid any particular heed to these places. Fine dining was simply one of many items on Roy Mustang’s “Laundry List of Things That Will Get Me Laid.” He was amazed how many people had spread for him based solely on dropping the name of a renowned restaurant; one would think they had never had a decent meal in their lives.
Fifteen words. Ed had said exactly fifteen words in the car ride over. Roy knew this because he had asked him exactly fifteen questions. The mistake was asking him things that required a yes or no answer, because that was all he received.
Riza, Riza, Riza, Riza, Roy chanted in his mind. He would suffer this for Riza. Still, he did feel somewhat disgruntled that he had not yet been forgiven his innocent mistake. Was a grudge of this magnitude really necessary?
They started with drinks- a soda for Ed and wine for Roy. He craved something harder and stiffer (well, that too) but had always been a little hard pressed to stop imbibing once he started. And he had a feeling that a loose tongue around this kid was not a good idea. They drank in silence, neither of them even bothering to look in each other’s general direction for ten minutes.
Roy sulked into his glass and finally snuck a glance at Ed as he drank.
Once Roy- who had seeing the attractive qualities in anyone down to an exact science- got past the scowl and the girly hair and the stunted growth, he found that Ed really was quite good looking. His eyes, the warm, golden color of blaze, were simply amazing. He found himself wondering what Ed’s hair would look like hanging loosely down his back, around his shoulders, laced between his fingers…. And, oh, the things that pouting mouths like that could do….
What the hell? Roy cleared his throat, coming very close to choking on his wine. This was hardly the time to eyefuck his extremely pissed off jerk of a blind date. He turned his eyes to the surrounding tables but found them slowly wandering back to their original target.
He finally noticed it when Ed took a sip of his soda using a straw; again, not the classiest move in the world, but kind of cute all the same. What he saw explained why Ed seemed to favor his right side when they were in the car. And, most likely, why he had chosen to wear gloves.
Between the end of the sleeve of his black, long-sleeved (and pleasantly formfitting, Roy noticed) shirt and the bottom of his glove, Roy saw a dull gleam of metal.
Ed had an artificial arm.
*****
Ed caught Roy’s eyes trailing up and down the length of his right arm and quickly shoved it under the table on his lap. He scowled-
Stop scowling! Winry’s voice scolded him in his thoughts.
- and resumed drinking with his left hand.
Roy quickly finished his wine and signaled for another. Watching him, Ed felt a small twinge of guilt. He was being a shit and he knew it. But he also didn’t know if he could stop.
But for Winry, he would try.
“I was in… an accident… when I was a kid,” he muttered.
Roy stared silently at him, surely shocked as all hell that he had just said more than three words at once, and waiting for him to go on.
Fuck.
Ed raised his right hand just over the top of the table briefly before setting it back on his lap. “I lost my arm. And my left leg.”
Roy continued staring at him with that deep, almost blank, black-eyed look, causing Ed to squirm uncomfortably. What the fuck was he looking at??
*****
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
Nothing like some good, sound profanity to pull someone out of a trance. Roy blinked and took a sudden interest in picking at the edge of his menu. “Nothing,” he mumbled… although that wasn’t entirely true.
Just what the fuck was he looking at, anyway?
And why was he bothering? The kid obviously hated him.
In a rare moment of considering the feelings of others, Roy tried to imagine what kind of life Ed must have had growing up with metal limbs. Kids could be cruel little bastards, whether they meant to be or not, and Ed must have had more than enough hardships to justify his cynical attitude.
“I was just thinking that it must have been pretty rough growing up and having those,” he offered in a low voice.
It wasn’t a typical bullshit line engineered to charm or woo. It was, simply, the truth.
Roy Mustang was actually being sincere, God help him.
Ed’s eyebrows drew together in a frown… before relaxing slightly. After a moment, his shrugged in acquiescence though he still glowered at him in suspicion.
It wasn’t forgiveness. Hell, it wasn’t even a word. But Roy felt immediately better nonetheless and bit back a smile.
Ugh. Roy Mustang did not smile on dates. For goodness sake, what the hell was wrong with him?
He picked up his menu and opened it wide in front of him, shielding the lower half of his face from Ed’s cool gaze. He felt his eyes crawling over him, trying to figure him out. Hell, he was trying to figure himself out right now. He risked a glance over the menu….
Those eyes. Roy thought if he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in them… and promptly pushed that damn Debbie Gibson song out of his head. He would go to his grave before he ever admitted his passion for overdramatic eighties love songs to anyone.
The server approached them to take their order. When she told them that vichyssoise was the soup de jour, Ed looked to Roy for a definition.
“It’s a potato and cream soup that’s served… Ed? What’s wrong?”
*****
Cream?
Ed was willing to forgive him the sinful trespass of mentioning that word in his presence.
This one time.
“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just that… I’m… lactose intolerant...”
… meaning that I would rather lay waste to the entire planet than have a drop of that fucking shit touch my lips.
“Oh, okay,” Roy said. “Something else, then?”
Ed scoured the menu. It seemed almost everything was smothered in a foul cream-based sauce of some sort. Disgusting. He eventually ended up settling on steak (or do they inject that with cream too?).
After the server absconded with their menus, leaving them with no means of shielding themselves from one another, Ed decided it wouldn’t kill him if he-
“I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he said, tugging at one of the fingers of his right glove.
“I’m sorry that I offended you,” Roy countered.
Ed smiled. God help him, he actually smiled. And God help him even more, because damned if his heart didn’t skip a beat when Roy smiled back at him.
This date… it might be okay, he thought tentatively.
*****
And it was okay. More than okay, actually.
It was great, even….
Until the check came.
Title: Blind Date
Pairing: RoyxEd and hints of RizaxWinry
Rating: NC17 overall (language and graphic sex... yay!)
Timeline: None- AU
Summary: When Roy Mustang, an egotistical man-whore, and Ed Elric, a temperamental teen, are set up on a blind date by well-meaning friends, anything can happen.
AN: Last time- Roy fucks up right off the bat... way to go, Roy.
Blind Date
Chapter 2
After a twenty minute car ride that felt more like an hour, they were being seated at their table.
It was a nice restaurant; four stars, five stars, whatever. To Roy, it was nothing to get excited over; he never paid any particular heed to these places. Fine dining was simply one of many items on Roy Mustang’s “Laundry List of Things That Will Get Me Laid.” He was amazed how many people had spread for him based solely on dropping the name of a renowned restaurant; one would think they had never had a decent meal in their lives.
Fifteen words. Ed had said exactly fifteen words in the car ride over. Roy knew this because he had asked him exactly fifteen questions. The mistake was asking him things that required a yes or no answer, because that was all he received.
Riza, Riza, Riza, Riza, Roy chanted in his mind. He would suffer this for Riza. Still, he did feel somewhat disgruntled that he had not yet been forgiven his innocent mistake. Was a grudge of this magnitude really necessary?
They started with drinks- a soda for Ed and wine for Roy. He craved something harder and stiffer (well, that too) but had always been a little hard pressed to stop imbibing once he started. And he had a feeling that a loose tongue around this kid was not a good idea. They drank in silence, neither of them even bothering to look in each other’s general direction for ten minutes.
Roy sulked into his glass and finally snuck a glance at Ed as he drank.
Once Roy- who had seeing the attractive qualities in anyone down to an exact science- got past the scowl and the girly hair and the stunted growth, he found that Ed really was quite good looking. His eyes, the warm, golden color of blaze, were simply amazing. He found himself wondering what Ed’s hair would look like hanging loosely down his back, around his shoulders, laced between his fingers…. And, oh, the things that pouting mouths like that could do….
What the hell? Roy cleared his throat, coming very close to choking on his wine. This was hardly the time to eyefuck his extremely pissed off jerk of a blind date. He turned his eyes to the surrounding tables but found them slowly wandering back to their original target.
He finally noticed it when Ed took a sip of his soda using a straw; again, not the classiest move in the world, but kind of cute all the same. What he saw explained why Ed seemed to favor his right side when they were in the car. And, most likely, why he had chosen to wear gloves.
Between the end of the sleeve of his black, long-sleeved (and pleasantly formfitting, Roy noticed) shirt and the bottom of his glove, Roy saw a dull gleam of metal.
Ed had an artificial arm.
*****
Ed caught Roy’s eyes trailing up and down the length of his right arm and quickly shoved it under the table on his lap. He scowled-
Stop scowling! Winry’s voice scolded him in his thoughts.
- and resumed drinking with his left hand.
Roy quickly finished his wine and signaled for another. Watching him, Ed felt a small twinge of guilt. He was being a shit and he knew it. But he also didn’t know if he could stop.
But for Winry, he would try.
“I was in… an accident… when I was a kid,” he muttered.
Roy stared silently at him, surely shocked as all hell that he had just said more than three words at once, and waiting for him to go on.
Fuck.
Ed raised his right hand just over the top of the table briefly before setting it back on his lap. “I lost my arm. And my left leg.”
Roy continued staring at him with that deep, almost blank, black-eyed look, causing Ed to squirm uncomfortably. What the fuck was he looking at??
*****
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
Nothing like some good, sound profanity to pull someone out of a trance. Roy blinked and took a sudden interest in picking at the edge of his menu. “Nothing,” he mumbled… although that wasn’t entirely true.
Just what the fuck was he looking at, anyway?
And why was he bothering? The kid obviously hated him.
In a rare moment of considering the feelings of others, Roy tried to imagine what kind of life Ed must have had growing up with metal limbs. Kids could be cruel little bastards, whether they meant to be or not, and Ed must have had more than enough hardships to justify his cynical attitude.
“I was just thinking that it must have been pretty rough growing up and having those,” he offered in a low voice.
It wasn’t a typical bullshit line engineered to charm or woo. It was, simply, the truth.
Roy Mustang was actually being sincere, God help him.
Ed’s eyebrows drew together in a frown… before relaxing slightly. After a moment, his shrugged in acquiescence though he still glowered at him in suspicion.
It wasn’t forgiveness. Hell, it wasn’t even a word. But Roy felt immediately better nonetheless and bit back a smile.
Ugh. Roy Mustang did not smile on dates. For goodness sake, what the hell was wrong with him?
He picked up his menu and opened it wide in front of him, shielding the lower half of his face from Ed’s cool gaze. He felt his eyes crawling over him, trying to figure him out. Hell, he was trying to figure himself out right now. He risked a glance over the menu….
Those eyes. Roy thought if he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in them… and promptly pushed that damn Debbie Gibson song out of his head. He would go to his grave before he ever admitted his passion for overdramatic eighties love songs to anyone.
The server approached them to take their order. When she told them that vichyssoise was the soup de jour, Ed looked to Roy for a definition.
“It’s a potato and cream soup that’s served… Ed? What’s wrong?”
*****
Cream?
Ed was willing to forgive him the sinful trespass of mentioning that word in his presence.
This one time.
“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just that… I’m… lactose intolerant...”
… meaning that I would rather lay waste to the entire planet than have a drop of that fucking shit touch my lips.
“Oh, okay,” Roy said. “Something else, then?”
Ed scoured the menu. It seemed almost everything was smothered in a foul cream-based sauce of some sort. Disgusting. He eventually ended up settling on steak (or do they inject that with cream too?).
After the server absconded with their menus, leaving them with no means of shielding themselves from one another, Ed decided it wouldn’t kill him if he-
“I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he said, tugging at one of the fingers of his right glove.
“I’m sorry that I offended you,” Roy countered.
Ed smiled. God help him, he actually smiled. And God help him even more, because damned if his heart didn’t skip a beat when Roy smiled back at him.
This date… it might be okay, he thought tentatively.
*****
And it was okay. More than okay, actually.
It was great, even….
Until the check came.