Fanfic: Available
Title: Available
Fandom: FMA
Rating: PG (swearing, mention of polyamory)
Word count: 1,163
If you'd have asked Roy, he would've told you that things were going great. Wonderfully, in fact. Maybe even swimmingly well, if he was particularly happy, or drunk. Life with Maes as a lover had been good, but now that his friend's girlfriend Gracia was in the mix, well... things were better than they'd ever been before. They were absolutely, amazingly, mind-blowingly terrifically grand.
And then Gracia got pregnant.
- - -
Roy stared at the glass in his hand. He didn't consider himself a drinking man, but an announcement like this called for something more than an open-mouthed gape. An announcement like this made a man long for a little liquid backbone.
"She's sure?" he asked his boyfriend for the fortieth time since they'd sequestered themselves in their bedroom. Gracia was gone to her mother's, presumably to ask some advice, and Maes had promised to join her later. Work, he'd claimed. Work, Roy had seconded. Now they were holed up in the tiny rented house they all shared, halfway through a bottle of whiskey and nowhere near a solution to their problem.
"You know she's sure," Maes snapped back, pacing by the bed. "You know as well as I do that the doctor corroborated the whole thing."
Corroborated. Maes had started using more "police" words since he'd gotten that position in Information, but Roy didn't argue. Gracia getting pregnant... God. Although he knew he was just as much at fault as Maes was, it still seemed like a crime. They had such a good thing going, and no-one even suspected, and to ruin it like this in one fell swoop because of carelessness...!
"So what're we going to do?" He ran a finger along the edge of the half-empty glass, licked it, and leaned back in the armchair that sat across from the bed, trying to force a calm he didn't feel.
Maes shoved a hand through his hair, which was a real feat considering it was full of pomade. "... I dunno," he muttered. "Raise it." He stared out the window at the neighbor's stucco wall, not really seeing the view. "I mean... our kid. Our kid, Roy. Yours, and mine, and hers. I mean..." A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "It's kind of... unexpected, yeah, but... exciting, don't you think?"
Thrilling, Roy wanted to snap, but he kept it to himself. It's not that he didn't want kids, it was just... it was the wrong time. They still had things left to do, and a kid... "You want to raise it where? Here?"
Maes turned to look at him. "Sure, why not? Might have to get a bigger place -- our apartment isn't gonna fit a baby and all its stuff --"
"Maes, she's not even married."
The excitement on his lover's face melted into confusion. "Who's she gonna marry? They aren't gonna let us both --"
"Welcome to the conversation," Roy said rudely. He finished the brandy and set the glass down, shoving it under his chair so he wouldn't kick it by accident.
"She doesn't need to marry anyone," Maes said, jaw set stubbornly. "She has us. We'll take care of her and the baby. She's our girlfriend, Roy. We can't just shop her out for some loser to --"
"You consider yourself a loser?" Roy interrupted, one eyebrow up.
"I'm not even gonna acknowledge --" Maes stopped, blinking, stubbornness replaced by incredulity. "Wait. You want me to marry her?"
Roy stared at the floor this time and shrugged the indifferent shrug he was so good at."Yeah."
Maes glanced at the door as if Gracia might burst in and catch them having what he clearly considered a forbidden conversation. "But -- but I can't --"
"Don't you want to?"
Maes laughed uneasily. "Of course I do. I love her. But I love you, too." He stopped, seeming to taste the words. "... I love you both. And yeah, now that you say it, I do wanna marry her, and you, too. But no judge on this earth is gonna -- I mean -- all of us? Jeeze, kiddo, that's --"
"What a stirring proposal. How can I refuse?" Roy played with the tips of his fingers. "There isn't anyone else, Maes. You have to do it."
Maes moved big shoulders beneath his white shirt, stretching, silent for a long minute. Finally, "What about you?"
"What about me?" Roy answered.
His lover shook his head. "I'm not just gonna ass you out of everything we have so that Gracia can have a husband --"
"No?" Roy got to his feet, back so tight it was painful, fighting to keep his voice calm. The stupid oaf wasn't supposed to think this out. He was supposed to grab at it, jump at the chance to make all his 'family' dreams come true. This was taking too long, and unease and sadness made knives of Roy's tactics. "Maybe you'll do it when people start to talk behind her back. Would that be better?"
Maes' gaze darkened. "Nobody's gonna do that. She's great, everyone likes her --"
" -- and everyone likes gossip." Roy's voice leapt into a tinny falsetto, his expression catty as he tucked a hand under his chin. " 'Did you see Gracia Enfield? Wonder who knocked her up, that lieutenant colonel of hers, or his best friend? They're together all the time, you know. It's a wonder they don't have ten children by now.' "
"That's bullshit --"
" 'Probably one of those perverted threesome things --"
Maes' fist clenched. "That's not funny, shut up."
Roy glared back and dropped his arm. "It's not supposed to be funny. It's the truth."
"You don't know what you're talking about. No-one will ever do that --"
"Fuck, Maes, stop being so dense! She needs a husband, and she needs one now, and you are completely available!"
"Me?! What about you? What're you doing that's so --"
"Oh, yeah, alchemists are so fucking free! Ha! They don't even let me out of the building without their permission, let alone out of their sight! You need to be under the radar on this one, and I can't promise that!"
"You mean you don't want to!"
That hurt, and it stung all the more because, with his usual accuity, Maes had seen right through everything Roy had thrown at him to the ugly truth. Roy could not marry Gracia, for all that he wanted to. It wouldn't help his career to have a wife, not right now, and he couldn't work all the hours needed if he had to worry about coming home to a child. And knowing that hurt the most.
"You have more time and you know it!" he shouted instead, knowing it was bluster and knowing Maes knew it but unable to say anything else. "You have to marry her!"
"Who's marrying who now, exactly?"
They both whirled, the unlatching of the door gone unheard beneath their fighting, and both tried to wipe the anger off their faces the instant they heard her voice.
"No-one, honey --" Maes started to say.
"You," Roy cut in. "Gracia... we need to talk."
Fandom: FMA
Rating: PG (swearing, mention of polyamory)
Word count: 1,163
If you'd have asked Roy, he would've told you that things were going great. Wonderfully, in fact. Maybe even swimmingly well, if he was particularly happy, or drunk. Life with Maes as a lover had been good, but now that his friend's girlfriend Gracia was in the mix, well... things were better than they'd ever been before. They were absolutely, amazingly, mind-blowingly terrifically grand.
And then Gracia got pregnant.
- - -
Roy stared at the glass in his hand. He didn't consider himself a drinking man, but an announcement like this called for something more than an open-mouthed gape. An announcement like this made a man long for a little liquid backbone.
"She's sure?" he asked his boyfriend for the fortieth time since they'd sequestered themselves in their bedroom. Gracia was gone to her mother's, presumably to ask some advice, and Maes had promised to join her later. Work, he'd claimed. Work, Roy had seconded. Now they were holed up in the tiny rented house they all shared, halfway through a bottle of whiskey and nowhere near a solution to their problem.
"You know she's sure," Maes snapped back, pacing by the bed. "You know as well as I do that the doctor corroborated the whole thing."
Corroborated. Maes had started using more "police" words since he'd gotten that position in Information, but Roy didn't argue. Gracia getting pregnant... God. Although he knew he was just as much at fault as Maes was, it still seemed like a crime. They had such a good thing going, and no-one even suspected, and to ruin it like this in one fell swoop because of carelessness...!
"So what're we going to do?" He ran a finger along the edge of the half-empty glass, licked it, and leaned back in the armchair that sat across from the bed, trying to force a calm he didn't feel.
Maes shoved a hand through his hair, which was a real feat considering it was full of pomade. "... I dunno," he muttered. "Raise it." He stared out the window at the neighbor's stucco wall, not really seeing the view. "I mean... our kid. Our kid, Roy. Yours, and mine, and hers. I mean..." A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "It's kind of... unexpected, yeah, but... exciting, don't you think?"
Thrilling, Roy wanted to snap, but he kept it to himself. It's not that he didn't want kids, it was just... it was the wrong time. They still had things left to do, and a kid... "You want to raise it where? Here?"
Maes turned to look at him. "Sure, why not? Might have to get a bigger place -- our apartment isn't gonna fit a baby and all its stuff --"
"Maes, she's not even married."
The excitement on his lover's face melted into confusion. "Who's she gonna marry? They aren't gonna let us both --"
"Welcome to the conversation," Roy said rudely. He finished the brandy and set the glass down, shoving it under his chair so he wouldn't kick it by accident.
"She doesn't need to marry anyone," Maes said, jaw set stubbornly. "She has us. We'll take care of her and the baby. She's our girlfriend, Roy. We can't just shop her out for some loser to --"
"You consider yourself a loser?" Roy interrupted, one eyebrow up.
"I'm not even gonna acknowledge --" Maes stopped, blinking, stubbornness replaced by incredulity. "Wait. You want me to marry her?"
Roy stared at the floor this time and shrugged the indifferent shrug he was so good at."Yeah."
Maes glanced at the door as if Gracia might burst in and catch them having what he clearly considered a forbidden conversation. "But -- but I can't --"
"Don't you want to?"
Maes laughed uneasily. "Of course I do. I love her. But I love you, too." He stopped, seeming to taste the words. "... I love you both. And yeah, now that you say it, I do wanna marry her, and you, too. But no judge on this earth is gonna -- I mean -- all of us? Jeeze, kiddo, that's --"
"What a stirring proposal. How can I refuse?" Roy played with the tips of his fingers. "There isn't anyone else, Maes. You have to do it."
Maes moved big shoulders beneath his white shirt, stretching, silent for a long minute. Finally, "What about you?"
"What about me?" Roy answered.
His lover shook his head. "I'm not just gonna ass you out of everything we have so that Gracia can have a husband --"
"No?" Roy got to his feet, back so tight it was painful, fighting to keep his voice calm. The stupid oaf wasn't supposed to think this out. He was supposed to grab at it, jump at the chance to make all his 'family' dreams come true. This was taking too long, and unease and sadness made knives of Roy's tactics. "Maybe you'll do it when people start to talk behind her back. Would that be better?"
Maes' gaze darkened. "Nobody's gonna do that. She's great, everyone likes her --"
" -- and everyone likes gossip." Roy's voice leapt into a tinny falsetto, his expression catty as he tucked a hand under his chin. " 'Did you see Gracia Enfield? Wonder who knocked her up, that lieutenant colonel of hers, or his best friend? They're together all the time, you know. It's a wonder they don't have ten children by now.' "
"That's bullshit --"
" 'Probably one of those perverted threesome things --"
Maes' fist clenched. "That's not funny, shut up."
Roy glared back and dropped his arm. "It's not supposed to be funny. It's the truth."
"You don't know what you're talking about. No-one will ever do that --"
"Fuck, Maes, stop being so dense! She needs a husband, and she needs one now, and you are completely available!"
"Me?! What about you? What're you doing that's so --"
"Oh, yeah, alchemists are so fucking free! Ha! They don't even let me out of the building without their permission, let alone out of their sight! You need to be under the radar on this one, and I can't promise that!"
"You mean you don't want to!"
That hurt, and it stung all the more because, with his usual accuity, Maes had seen right through everything Roy had thrown at him to the ugly truth. Roy could not marry Gracia, for all that he wanted to. It wouldn't help his career to have a wife, not right now, and he couldn't work all the hours needed if he had to worry about coming home to a child. And knowing that hurt the most.
"You have more time and you know it!" he shouted instead, knowing it was bluster and knowing Maes knew it but unable to say anything else. "You have to marry her!"
"Who's marrying who now, exactly?"
They both whirled, the unlatching of the door gone unheard beneath their fighting, and both tried to wipe the anger off their faces the instant they heard her voice.
"No-one, honey --" Maes started to say.
"You," Roy cut in. "Gracia... we need to talk."