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You Belong to Me	By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 9883 -:- Recommendations : 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 List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Disclaimer:� I don't
own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Spellchecked, proof read, Un-beta�d.� My new beta Yaoi_girl69 seems to be too busy
to help me out.� So, if you see a glaring
mistake, please PM me with the details and I�ll fix it up.� I�m also open to entertaining applications
for beta work.� Contact me for further
details.

�

Chapter 23

He would not run.� No
matter how he wanted to flee, he would.�
Not.� Run.

Edward strode across the living room, bending fluidly to
snag his shirt and made an immediate beeline for the door.� He bent once more, hooking his fingers into
the heels of his shoes and opened the door, slamming it behind him as hard as
he could.� He was at the elevator in an
instant, repeatedly jamming his thumb against the call button.� He half feared that Roy would come out and try to talk to him,
and that was the last thing he wanted.�
If that happened�he would punch him out for real.� Shifting his bundle from one arm to the
other, Edward threw an angry glare at the door at his back and swallowed
hard.�

He felt worse than dirt.�

Turning his eyes back to the non-responsive elevator doors,
he clenched his teeth hard and pulled at his drooping pants.� Finally the doors slid open with a screech of
metal.� Hurrying inside, Edward pressed
the lobby button and dropped his stuff to the floor.� He jerkily pressed the button of his pants
through the hole on the opposite side, angrily doing up the zipper all the
while his gaze was on Roy�s
door.

Finally the elevator slid shut, cutting off the sight of the
hallway.� With a small bounce, the
elevator started its decent.� Growling in
his throat, Edward reached down and pulled his shirt free, thrusting each arm
down the sleeves savagely.� He toed the
shoes into the right position and crammed his bare feet into each opening.� It was then he noticed that he�d forgotten
his socks and his belt.�

The only thing left on the floor was the airplane
ticket.�

The chime sounded at each floor he passed, but he could
hardly process any of that.� His whole being
was mourning the loss of something that he hadn�t even had in the first place.�

�Damn him,� hissed Edward, frowning at the ticket and half
wishing that Roy
was here so he could rag him out.� �Damn
him!�� He slammed the edge of his fist
against the wall, making the wood paneling rattle.�

With a finally ping, the elevator doors opened onto the
lobby.� Bending, Edward took the ticket
into his fist and stalked across the lobby.�
The doorman looked up at the sound of his footfalls, his eyes going
wide. �Edward didn�t care.� He knew he looked a mess.� His shirt was open and fluttering around
behind him, his hair was a tangled jumble, and his pants were riding low on his
hips without his belt to keep them on his waist.�

Slamming his palm against the glass of the door, Edward
rushed out into the night and into the pouring rain.� Immediately his hair became plastered against
his head and his shirt soaked through.�
Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he welcomed the rain�s cool
and soothing balm to his anger.

The street was deserted.�
Sensible walkers had long since found another, dryer way home.� There was no one to see how the ache of grief
tore at him.� The only sound he could
discern was that of the rain hitting the pavement.� The constant, steady drum of water on his
face, the street, the cars, the pavement, drew him into its rhythmic
sounds.� He let the feel of the fat drops
of rain on his closed eyes, cheeks and chest wash away the sense memory of
Roy�s hands as they had caressed his body and push out the thoughts that wanted
to crowd his mind uselessly.�

Then the rain wasn�t falling on him anymore.

Opening his eyes, Edward looked up into the underside of an
umbrella.� Twisting around, he looked up
into the concerned eyes of the doorman in surprise.�

�Sir, please forgive my forwardness, but you are getting
wet,� the soft spoken man said.�

With a soft snort, Edward dropped his gaze down to his feet.� His pants were not quite soaked through yet
but his upper half was drenched.� A
muddling of thoughts and possible reactions flittered through his mind and each
one was discarded until he just remained mute.�
He couldn�t bring himself to mutter any sort of response and his anger
was fading away no matter how hard he would have liked to hang onto it.�

�May I call you a taxi, sir?� the older man asked.

Without thinking, Edward patted his back pocket to judge his
financial situation and realized that his wallet was sitting upstairs on Roy�s coffee table.� He�d taken it out when they had sat down to
eat and forgot to pick it up in his haste to get away.� The only thing of value he had on him right
now was a slightly soggy plane ticket.

�Heh,� snorted Edward.� His shoulders sagged as he realized that he�d
have to go back upstairs.� �I forgot my
wallet.�� There was no way he was going
to be able to that.

�Oh my,� the doorman said sympathetically, and then gasped
in shock, pointing at his side.�
�Sir!� Your hand.��

Turning his hand over, Edward saw that most of the skin on
his knuckles had been peeled off and was oozing little dribbles of blood that
splashed down onto the pavement and quickly mixed with the rain until it
disappeared.� �Oh,� said Edward,
shrugging it off as inconsequential.

�May I suggest you come into the foyer here and let me treat
that before you head out; maybe you can remember where you left your wallet.�

Edward looked up at the face of the doorman and for the
first time since they had started talking, he actually took in the features of
the concerned man.� Olive smooth skin and
very light blond hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the crown of his head
were almost ignored as he stared up into startling red-brown irises.� The man seemed to be genuinely concerned with
his condition, and Edward found that he couldn�t be rude in the face of that
troubled gaze when it was so focused on him.

With a small nod, Edward allowed the man to draw him back
into the building.

--

Winry flopped down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling with
a sigh.� It was late.� She wanted to talk to Edward but he seemed to
have disappeared.� She racked her brain
for clues as to where Edward might have gone.�
Every remembrance from her childhood and subsequent interactions with
Edward as they got older were reviewed, but the memories were dim and vague. �Her recollections of Edward as a boy were of
her bossing him around and him scampering off to complete her tasks as quickly
as he could. When searching her memories didn�t avail her as to what her next
course of action should be, she went looking for Hohenheim.� But he didn�t seem to know where he was
either.

It was irksome.

There was this nagging suspicion in the back of her mind
that Roy was up
to no good and it wouldn�t leave her alone.�
She had never given much thought or attention to her brother�s life
outside of the office.� Why should
she?� Even as a young boy he had seemed
older then his years.� He had done
everything he could to be a perfect boy and when he was old enough, the perfect
CEO; a perfectly boring man as far as she was concerned.�

Her brow knit as she considered what Roy might be up to.� For some reason, she was reminded of all the
times Roy had
stepped in and helped her get rid of her unwanted or used up suitors.� But that made no sense.� Why would Roy have to spend time with Edward to get rid
of him?� Usually he would just give them
some sort of monetary settlement in return for leaving her alone.� He would never spend time with her flings�not that Edward was a fling yet, but she
wanted to make him one.� ��

In fact, if she really thought about it, since Edward had
come back Roy
had been acting very strangely.� It
wasn�t overt, but he was definitely not his usual calm, collected, in control
Roy Mustang that he was normally.� It was
almost as if Roy
was off-kilter somehow.�

Winry shook her head and smiled.� Now that really
didn�t make any sense.� Roy being �off� was like men not wanting to
be around her.� She laughed into the empty
room.

But then�� Her
laughter died as a thought occurred to her.�
Edward didn�t seem to want to be around her either�� With that thought, Winry started thinking
over all her past interactions with Edward again.� There was something�bothering her�but, she
couldn�t quite put her finger on it��

--

�There you are,� the doorman, who was named Miles, said giving
him a slight smile.� He pressed the last
piece of tape gently against the gauze and then turned away to begin putting
the first-aid kit back together.�

Edward glanced down at his hand.� There were so many bandages and tape covering
his knuckles and most of this hand that he couldn�t even close his fingers into
a fist anymore.� �Thanks,� mumbled
Edward, rubbing his covered knuckles into the palm of his other hand earning
him a dull stab of pain.� His clothes
were soggy and dripping all over the floor, but before Miles had started to
bandage his hand, he had fixed his appearance as best he could by doing up his
shirt and pushing the bulk of his wet hair back.

�Now�have you given thought as to where your wallet might
be?� Miles asked.� With a large sigh, Edward
pointed at the ceiling.� �Upstairs?�
Miles asked, raising one eyebrow in question.�
Edward nodded sullenly and looked away.

�I see.� It seems that
you are reluctant to go get it,� Miles observed.� Edward nodded again.� �You came in with Mister Mustang, didn�t you?��

Frowning, Edward glared at Miles from his seat behind the
desk.� He didn�t like where this was
headed.� �I should go,� declared Edward,
sliding off the chair about to push past the doorman.

�Hold on, sir,� said Miles placing a firm but somehow light
hold on his arm.� �I could go get your
wallet for you.�

�Why?�

�Why? Why what?� Would
I do that for you?� asked Miles, lifting his eyebrows at him.� �Well, that is my job, plus you seem very
upset at the moment.� I want to help.�

Edward snorted and looked away.� He did need his wallet.� He was leaving tomorrow after all.� It wasn�t like he�d be able to get it later.� God�was he really going to do this?� Just leave?� He covered his face with his uninjured hand
and sighed.� And what would Roy do when this man
knocked on his door and asked for his wallet?�
As angry as he was at the man, he still wanted Roy to like him�maybe even love him just a
little.�

�Sir?� Miles asked, bending forward to trying to see through
Edward�s hand.� The movement caused
Edward to glance at him though his hair.

�Okay, go and get it for me��
Please,� he added as an after thought.�
With a sigh, he let his hand drop and moved back to the stool.� Miles grinned at him and headed over to the
elevator.� Just as Edward sat down, and
before Miles could press the button, the elevator pinged.�

Though he had no reason to think it, Edward�s heart leapt up
into his throat, thinking it could be Roy
coming to find him.� But that was
absurd.� There would be no reason for Roy to do that and�

His eyes went wide as Miles took a step back to allow the
elevator rider to disembark and there stood Roy, looking from Miles to him.�

He felt sick.� He
wanted to run away.� He wanted to stand
his ground.� He wanted to yell at Roy.� He wanted to whisper to Roy.� He
wanted to punch him.� He wanted Roy to hold him.� He wanted Roy to have sex with him.� He hated Roy.�
He loved Roy.

Pressing his lips over his clenched teeth, Edward dropped
his head down, shaking his wet hair forward to in a futile attempt to hide.�

�Ah, Mister Mustang, I was just about to come up.� It seems this gentleman has forgotten his
wallet.�

Edward hunched his shoulders.� He knew�he could feel it�Roy was looking at him with those lovely dark
eyes of his.� He wanted to vanish.

�Yes,� said Roy.�

Shit, cursed Edward mentally as an immediate craving for Roy�s touch jolted
through him.� That voice was just too
much.� It was almost like he was
conditioned to react to that voice now and he couldn�t stop himself from loving
the sound of it and giving a little shiver. ��

�I just noticed it myself.�
Perhaps�you could give us a minute?�
I�m sure you could do with a break, Miles.�

Edward felt frozen to the stool.� He wanted�needed�to get out of here, but he
couldn�t seem to find the will to actually do it.� He couldn�t even find it in himself to ask
Miles to stay as he heard the other man walk over to the front door.� Just before leaving however, Miles leaned
over the countertop and poked Edward in the shoulder.

�Hey man, I�m just going to be outside.� I�ll keep my eyes on things here, so if you
need help�� whispered Miles, but not low
enough that Roy
wouldn�t be able to hear it.� It was as
much to reassure Edward as it was to warn Roy.� It made him wonder just what Miles thought
was going on here.�

Edward managed only a jerky nod, not taking his eyes away
from the floor.� His heart beat an
unsteady rhythm and he couldn�t stay still.�
He shifted on the stool, played with the nail on his thumb�and fuck he
wanted to be anywhere but here.� It felt
as if all the time he�d spent in Paris
growing up meant nothing.� He was that
shy kid again, unable to confront the harder aspects of life and only wanting
to hide from them.� He knew that he was
stronger then this, he should be stronger then this.

The outside door opened letting in the hiss of rain for a
moment and then it was silent again.� He
wondered what Roy
was going to do, or say to him.� Did he
even want to hear it?� Maybe he should
just tell Roy
to put his wallet on the counter and leave him alone.

He could hear Roy
approach him, but he kept his head lowered.�
�How�s your hand?� asked Roy
very softly.�

Edward frowned.� �You
don�t get to be worried about me,� he growled.�
He finally raised his head to glare his hatred at the man standing at
the corner of the desk.�

A remorseful look passed through Roy�s face before it disappeared beneath a
mask.� �Of course.� You are right, I�m sorry,� said Roy, inclining his head
towards Edward.

�Bull shit!� spat
Edward, fisting his uninjured hand until his knuckles creaked.� �All of it was bull shit, wasn�t it?�� But Edward didn�t really want to know, so he
continued.� �How do you know that I
wouldn�t have been right for Winry?� We
might have been really good together.�
You don�t know that,� accused Edward, pointing his finger at the other
man�s chest.�

�I didn�t need to know,� Roy told him calmly.�

Edward pressed his lips, seething.� Roy
thought he knew Winry so well, but he didn�t, and it angered him that he would
presume to act on her behalf without considering her feelings or desires.� Roy
just went ahead and did whatever the hell he wanted without thought.� It didn�t matter that Edward had come to feel
something for Roy in the interim; the fact was
that Roy had
overstepped his bounds and did something unconscionable both to his sister and
to him.� And above all, he couldn�t
believe that Roy
had done all of this to him and had not felt anything at all.� There was such a strong chemistry between
them that Roy
couldn�t be as unaffected as he was pretending.

�You care for me,� Edward challenged, changing the subject
and watching Roy
very carefully.� It had to be true.� He knew that Roy acted differently around him these last
few days.� He had to care!� ��

�As the son of my driver, of course��

�As something more!� You said it yourself and that�s why you�d always
freak out and follow me.� You care.�� His voice faded to a whisper and he leaned
forward on the stool, placing his hand on the desk, trying to see if there was
anything at all for him here.

Roy
met his gaze without comment or reaction.�
Edward searched one side of Roy�s
face and then the other and back, and he could find no spark, no lie; nothing
for him to bother with here.� There was
no look of fondness or even a tiny flicker of love.� With a snort and a disgusted shake of his
head, Edward gave up.� He�d been played
and he could tell by the look on Roy�s
face that it wasn�t anything but that.� ��

He swiped his wallet off the counter and moved past Roy, feeling a spike of
adrenaline as he did so.� Fucking man was
still inspiring a reaction out of his body despite what his head knew.� This was so messed up, Edward thought as he
pushed on the door.� Miles stared mutely
at him from the cover of the stone overhang.�
Being already soaked through, the cool night air sent immediate shivers
down his spine.

�How�d it go, man?� asked Miles, shooting a curious glance
inside.� Edward did so as well, finding Roy watching them,
standing in the same spot he�d left him at.�
Edward�s heart immediately clenched painfully at the sight that Roy made; being all
handsome and stoic.� With a frown, he
turned away from the sight and looked out across the street.

�Fine; I got my wallet, after all.�

�Too right, man.� Hey,
you take it easy, you hear?�� Miles held
out his fist at him.� With a smile,
Edward touched his uninjured fist to Miles�.�

�Now you get all informal?� asked Edward with a small smile
for the older man that didn�t feel as forced as it could have been, considering.� �What about before?�

�I was working before.�
I�m on break now,� said Miles, smirking at him.� That caused Edward to snort in
disbelief.�

�Okay, whatever.��
Without meaning to, Edward glanced inside again.� Roy
was still standing there, watching.� �I
better go.� I�ll find a taxi or
something, but I�m not going to hang around here any longer.� Thanks man.��
Miles nodded and Edward stepped out into the deluge heading down the
street.�

--

They went back to his book-lined living room to talk.� The kitchen was too well travelled for this
kind over conversation.� Patricia sat on
his couch, near but not close.� Hohenheim
supposed he deserved that.� She hadn�t
even responded yet to his declaration of love and he deserved that too.� He deserved a lot of things.

Bowing his head, Hohenheim found it easier to talk to his
lap than look into Patricia�s eyes at the moment.

�It�s just that�� he murmured.� �I don�t understand.� It�s so sudden.� I didn�t notice.�

�Just because you didn�t notice that Edward was gay doesn�t
mean that you�ve been a horrible father��

�That�s not it.� I
don�t understand why he couldn�t tell me.�
Why didn�t he say anything to me�at all?�
I don�t understand why he wouldn�t tell me�� Silence filled the room after his
comment.� It gave Hohenheim time to
ponder the many confused things that were zooming around in this head.� Hurt and betrayal chased each other around in
his heart that his son didn�t think to come to him.� But seeing as he was reacting so badly, he
wondered how he would have handled this if Edward had come to him.� �Did you
know?� he asked, looking sidelong at the woman seated near him.

�I didn�t, but I wondered.�
His fixation on Winry was so complete to the exclusion of all other
girls�and there were his�difficulties at school.� He was so isolated from all the other kids.� Do you know that one time in junior high, he
came to me in tears because he couldn�t talk to a girl who was shy like
him?� He was so upset with himself that
for a week he would find me after school and just cried in my arms.� I didn�t hear anything more about it after
that.� He just�clamed up...��

�My poor Edward.� How
could I be so blind?� wondered Hohenheim, shaking his head at�himself, Edward,
the situation.� �Patricia�this may sound
stupid, so forgive me.�� He paused,
wondering if it was wise to voice this particular question.

�Go on,� Patricia prompted.

�What is it�about Edward�that�s�gay?�� He whispered the last
word.� It was so hard to say that word
now that it was associated with Edward.

�What do you mean, dear?� asked Patricia.� She called him �dear�.�

Hohenheim looked up and met Patricia�s steady gaze.� He knew that he was treading on thin ice with
that question, but he needed some frame of reference, and Patricia had
obviously given this some thought for many years.� His next words would have to be chosen very
carefully.

�I mean�� He broke
the uncomfortable eye contact and looked back down at his lap.� What did
he mean?� �I mean, is it because he wears
his hair a certain way, or because he dresses a certain way?� I don�t understand how this could
happen.� Did I do something?� Didn�t do something?� I don�t understand.�� He was so very confused.

�Honey, you�re thinking about this all wrong.� You can�t do anything as a parent to make
someone gay or not gay.�� Patricia
reached forward and rested a warm, dry hand on his knee.� �Edward isn�t any different then he was
yesterday when you didn�t know.�

With a frustrated sigh, Hohenheim leaned forward and let his
head fall into his hands and felt the press of his elbows into his thighs.� �He is different.� He�s so different�� murmured Hohenheim.� �He likes�men�� he whispered, images of
Edward being with a man flashed behind his eyelids.� How could anyone want a man over a woman?� How could anyone kiss a man?� Or touch them skin to skin?� How could it be that someone would want hard
angles over soft curves?� Being with a
man didn�t serve any purpose.� There
would be no children, no marriage; there was no reason.� Why would someone want that when they could
have a family?� It didn�t make sense to
him.� Oh, he knew that the laws were
changing and that gays and lesbians could chose to get married in certain
states, even adopt a child if they wanted to, but�in his heart�he didn�t
understand it at all.� �

Patricia squeezed his knee briefly and then pulled
back.� �So then, what will you do?� Toss him out and never speak to him
again?� Or will you try to rise above
your confusion and talk to your son?�

�I don�t know�� I
don�t know, Patricia.� I don�t know what
to do,� said Hohenheim, frustration and aguish edging into his voice.� He loved Edward even now, but�but� ��

�Hohenheim��

�Patricia�do you�do you think that�Roy�is��
He let that thought dangle out there.�
If he allowed himself to think on this matter, Roy�s timing couldn�t be more fearsome to
him.� But what it could mean to his
son�� That caused an extra fearful turn
in his stomach.� It was just hearsay, he
knew it.� �

�I don�t know.� I�ve
also wondered about Roy
for a long time.� I could never get a
very good read on him.� But, if I
remember correctly he did �terrorize� Edward as a boy.�

He glanced briefly at her, seeing a far off, thoughtful look
on her face.� �I�m not sure how to deal
with this.� How do I talk to Edward?� How do I understand?�� His fear that Roy was after Edward plagued him.� He hoped that he was wrong and returned his
focus to his lap.�

�The way you�ve always talked to him; gently and with
love.� He�s still your son and he needs
you.�

�I do love him, but I�m so confused��

�Then you should tell me what you�re confused about.�

Hohenheim whipped his head up to find his son standing in
the doorway, soaked through with his long hair a stingy mess about his face and
shoulders, but he was looking at him steadily and without the normal fear that
was�had been�a part of Edward�s nature before he left for France.�

In his peripheral vision, he could see Patricia look from
him to Edward and back, but he couldn�t take his gaze away from his son.� With a slow, deep breath, Hohenheim pictured
what his life would look like if he forced Edward away.� Bleak and lonesome, he would never get to see
his boy succeed in life, or see him graduate from university.� He would never get to hold his grandchild
now�now that Edward was gay.� He would
never be able to call him up or write letters to him anymore when he moved out
on his own.� He would have none of
that.�

But, if Edward stayed in his life�� What would it be like for him?� Could he even begin to express his confusion
to his son?� With Patricia it was easier because it wasn�t
Edward, the source of his confusion sitting beside him.� And would he be able to accept whomever
Edward chose as his partner?� Would he be
able to even stand to be in the same room as the man Edward chose?� Could he�?�
Edward�s golden eyes watched him steadily, waiting for him to decide.

Letting out a deep sigh, Hohenheim smiled slightly and
motioned his son to the armchair near to him.�
He was going to try very hard to understand this seeming
incomprehensible problem.� As Edward
nodded and moved to take the seat, Hohenheim happened to catch Patricia�s
eye.� She winked at him with a huge smile
on her face and he felt buoyed by having her here.

�Edward, dear, you�re soaked.� Don�t sit down yet; go have a shower to warm
up and I�ll get you some towels,� said Patricia as she pushed herself up off
the couch giving Edward an encouraging smile.�
�You get into something dry and I�ll make some tea and bring those
shortbread cookies you both like.� I�m sure
we�ll have a good talk.��

Edward gave her a wan smile and nodded.� He turned towards his room as Patricia rushed
away to get the towels from the linen closet.�
Hohenheim was left alone in his living room while he listened to the
sounds of his loved ones moving about the house.� It would take time, but he hoped that one
day, he�d be able to fully accept his son�s choice of lifestyle.� He loved his son and it might be hard, but he
couldn�t imagine pushing him away. ��

--To Be Continued�

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