Love The Impossible Science- Ch. 8
FanFic Title: Love-The Impossible Science (Ch.8- Of Runway Models and Door Slamming)
Author: kimba147
Pairing: Roy/Ed (There may be various straight/gay pairings later on)
Genre: Romance/AU
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters/over all story. In the beginning, it's more like PG-13-ish.)
Thank you to my beta, Mulle!
Warnings: The usual warnings for this kind of stuff. Losta yaoi, angst, over-zealous use of the 'f'' word, annoying female characters and evil villans my ensue.
Previous Chapters: www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml
Summary: Edward Elric has joined a gang and given up his life, childhood, and innocence for his family. Roy Mustang must submit to the image placed upon him. If they want to be together, they will have to over come not only their own weaknesses, but the chains that bind them.
End of flash backs! It tells a little more about Ed's life. The transistion chapter into the present for leading into more action! (And Roy talking to Ed in the Bathroom!)
__________________________________________________________________________
Of Runway Models And Door Slaming
I shook my head to clear it of all my wayward thoughts. No. There would be no forgiving that bastard. Edward Elric was not some helpless charity case.
“What the fuck do you want, you prick?” I snapped.
He seemed to be shocked at the fact that I could speak. His eyes widened, letting more light shine into the normally small slits. I noted, offhand, that his eyes were the exact color of obsidian. Great, one more reason for him to preen himself in front of women…’Oh, I am Roy Mustang, descended from on high to mingle with the commoners! Look upon my eyes, which are the color of your darkest dreams, and worship me, so I can use you and throw you away like a tissue!’ I could just see him saying something like that.
“Can’t a guy come into the bathroom without being prosecuted?” He said, standing straighter.
Not when he is a hoity-toity d-bag, my mind hissed.
Rather than actually saying that, I simply stared at him and tried to communicate my thoughts via the Force.
I watched as he slowly knitted his eyebrows together. This was the biggest show of emotion from ‘el presidente’ that I had seen in a while. He was normally cool as a cucumber. Except when he took time out of his schedule of awesomeness to stare at me. Speaking of which…
“How about you stop freakin’ staring at me and start walking, eh?” I snarled.
He snorted. “Pardon me, but since when do you have the right to decide who can and can’t be in the bathroom? Unless you were doing something you didn’t want me to see…”
It was somehow phrased as both a question and a statement of fact at the same time. The only thing that kept me from clobbering him at that moment was the fact that if I got suspended, Al would suffer for it too.
I hadn’t wanted any one to find me in here…some stupid fuck had spilled hot coffee all over my arm. I knew he had done it on purpose, but Noa was more concerned with me getting it under cold water than with me defending myself. So I ended up in here with a burn on my arm and being mortified that someone had found me in this state. And then there was the…I couldn’t even call it staring in this case. It was like Mustang was somehow trying to see under my skin and whatever was underneath was a precious treasure. It made me feel weird that this conservative playboy was looking at me like I was some mortal incarnation of Aphrodite.
Finally, I decided that I had endured enough of the awkward vibe in the air. I took a step forward and inwardly smirked as I watched Mustang try not to flinch. One deep breath later, I was doing my best impression of a runway model, and waltzing past the world’s-biggest-looser and out the door, with my nose in the air the whole time.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I got home after yet another horrible day of people avoiding me and teachers looking at me like I was a retard even though I had an A+ in every class.
I heard someone calling my name from the kitchen, so I dropped my bag with a solid ‘thunk’ and slouched my way through the front hallway and turned to my left. There was Teacher, chopping up vegetables from tonight’s dinner.
“Aw, common, Teacher. You know I hate carrots…” I whined, not really meaning it.
“Then I guess you just won’t eat, huh?” She said as she turned around.
That was Teacher for you. She was definitely a ‘tough-love’ type of person. I wouldn’t have it any other way though. It made her being so kind to Al and me easier to bear.
Izumi (who Al and I had taken to calling ‘Teacher’…she had taught us all the important stuff in life after all) and Sig Curtis had taken us in after Mom died…even though our childhood friend, Winry and Auntie Pinako were in Resembool, Al hadn’t wanted to stay in a town with so many painful memories and I hadn’t wanted to stay cooped up with a couple of crazy mechanics. So we had packed up and sneaked out in the middle of the night and tried to catch a ride to…somewhere. Anywhere. Sig had found us hiking on the side of a country road and picked us up and took us to what would wind up being our home for the next few years.
Of course, as soon as we got there, Teacher had kicked us ‘knuckle-headed brats’ out. Al was tenacious about this though. He had been more sensible than I, (and probably still was) and he knew that sleeping on the streets in a big city was a bad idea. So, we wound up throwing temper-tantrums on her front steps until she let us back in. After that, it was like we were her own kids. She fed us, bathed us and gave us a place to sleep at night. Of course she was hard on us, and made us work, but I myself didn’t mind. Working meant we were earning our place there.
It was only after we had been living here a while that we found out that Teacher had taken it upon herself to make a call to our home town and that the Rockbells were moving to Central…that was not a fun reunion.
The end all and be all of it was that we were stuck here. And I had refused to freeload forever. I vowed that I would start paying rent, but I was too young and under qualified to get a job that would pay for both me and my brother. So I had made the tough decision to join a gang…Al was devastated that I would do something so brash. Teacher and Pinako were furious (Teacher was so mad, that when I got my first tattoo, she slammed my head into a tree. The stitches only made me look more like a bad ass, though, so I didn’t mind much).
They didn’t understand that I had no choice…everyone thought that it would be okay for me to just wallow in my misery for free…it ended up that Teacher and I had a shouting match. She said that she hated gangs, and that she wouldn’t promote such things in her household. I had to ‘explain’ at the top of my lungs that this was non-optional. The only place I would ever stay in for free was in my home. And it wasn’t home anymore because Mom wasn’t there. I didn’t have a place for my childhood to be anymore, so I had given it up in favor of making sure that Al didn’t have to deal with all the crap that I did. I didn’t want to be a delinquent, but taking the blow for my little brother was a thousand times better than watching him fall.
Teacher tentatively accepted it after that and made me swear not to kill anyone or be killed myself. And over the last year or so, the rift in the house healed. It was true that Izumi Curtis wasn’t Mom, but she was the best thing Al and I had to call family in a long time. And I really cared for her because of that.
My stomach chose this moment to rouse me from my reverie and tell me just what it thought about me not helping get supper to it faster.
Teacher smiled at the sound of my stomach rumbling. Rather than commenting on it though, she just said,“You’re home early today.”
Yeah. Loa had noticed that I was having a pretty bad day and convinced Greed to let me have a day off. Surprisingly, he didn’t put up much of a fuss. The spikey haired asshole had the emotional attention span of a 13-year-old girl.
Rather than responding, I began exploring the fridge for something else to put in what I assumed was going to be soup. Naturally, the one time when I was preoccupied, was when the front door was opened and slammed shut with a resounding crack. After recovering from bonking my head on the refrigerator door (and keeping myself from swearing in front of Teacher) I stood up to see what had happened.
Al was in the process of storming across the front hall and up the stairs, stopping only to give me a hard glare. I guess he was still mad about our tussle the other day.
“I don’t think I want to know what that was…Go fix it Edward.” a smooth voice said from behind me.
“What!? Did you see his face? He looked about ready to kill me.” I complained as I turned around.
Teacher just looked at me like I would regret it if I didn’t go up and console my brother right now.
I sighed without really putting any feeling behind it and began the long trek up to Al’s room. I was sure that I was going to regret it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author: kimba147
Pairing: Roy/Ed (There may be various straight/gay pairings later on)
Genre: Romance/AU
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters/over all story. In the beginning, it's more like PG-13-ish.)
Thank you to my beta, Mulle!
Warnings: The usual warnings for this kind of stuff. Losta yaoi, angst, over-zealous use of the 'f'' word, annoying female characters and evil villans my ensue.
Previous Chapters: www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml
Summary: Edward Elric has joined a gang and given up his life, childhood, and innocence for his family. Roy Mustang must submit to the image placed upon him. If they want to be together, they will have to over come not only their own weaknesses, but the chains that bind them.
End of flash backs! It tells a little more about Ed's life. The transistion chapter into the present for leading into more action! (And Roy talking to Ed in the Bathroom!)
__________________________________________________________________________
Of Runway Models And Door Slaming
I shook my head to clear it of all my wayward thoughts. No. There would be no forgiving that bastard. Edward Elric was not some helpless charity case.
“What the fuck do you want, you prick?” I snapped.
He seemed to be shocked at the fact that I could speak. His eyes widened, letting more light shine into the normally small slits. I noted, offhand, that his eyes were the exact color of obsidian. Great, one more reason for him to preen himself in front of women…’Oh, I am Roy Mustang, descended from on high to mingle with the commoners! Look upon my eyes, which are the color of your darkest dreams, and worship me, so I can use you and throw you away like a tissue!’ I could just see him saying something like that.
“Can’t a guy come into the bathroom without being prosecuted?” He said, standing straighter.
Not when he is a hoity-toity d-bag, my mind hissed.
Rather than actually saying that, I simply stared at him and tried to communicate my thoughts via the Force.
I watched as he slowly knitted his eyebrows together. This was the biggest show of emotion from ‘el presidente’ that I had seen in a while. He was normally cool as a cucumber. Except when he took time out of his schedule of awesomeness to stare at me. Speaking of which…
“How about you stop freakin’ staring at me and start walking, eh?” I snarled.
He snorted. “Pardon me, but since when do you have the right to decide who can and can’t be in the bathroom? Unless you were doing something you didn’t want me to see…”
It was somehow phrased as both a question and a statement of fact at the same time. The only thing that kept me from clobbering him at that moment was the fact that if I got suspended, Al would suffer for it too.
I hadn’t wanted any one to find me in here…some stupid fuck had spilled hot coffee all over my arm. I knew he had done it on purpose, but Noa was more concerned with me getting it under cold water than with me defending myself. So I ended up in here with a burn on my arm and being mortified that someone had found me in this state. And then there was the…I couldn’t even call it staring in this case. It was like Mustang was somehow trying to see under my skin and whatever was underneath was a precious treasure. It made me feel weird that this conservative playboy was looking at me like I was some mortal incarnation of Aphrodite.
Finally, I decided that I had endured enough of the awkward vibe in the air. I took a step forward and inwardly smirked as I watched Mustang try not to flinch. One deep breath later, I was doing my best impression of a runway model, and waltzing past the world’s-biggest-looser and out the door, with my nose in the air the whole time.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I got home after yet another horrible day of people avoiding me and teachers looking at me like I was a retard even though I had an A+ in every class.
I heard someone calling my name from the kitchen, so I dropped my bag with a solid ‘thunk’ and slouched my way through the front hallway and turned to my left. There was Teacher, chopping up vegetables from tonight’s dinner.
“Aw, common, Teacher. You know I hate carrots…” I whined, not really meaning it.
“Then I guess you just won’t eat, huh?” She said as she turned around.
That was Teacher for you. She was definitely a ‘tough-love’ type of person. I wouldn’t have it any other way though. It made her being so kind to Al and me easier to bear.
Izumi (who Al and I had taken to calling ‘Teacher’…she had taught us all the important stuff in life after all) and Sig Curtis had taken us in after Mom died…even though our childhood friend, Winry and Auntie Pinako were in Resembool, Al hadn’t wanted to stay in a town with so many painful memories and I hadn’t wanted to stay cooped up with a couple of crazy mechanics. So we had packed up and sneaked out in the middle of the night and tried to catch a ride to…somewhere. Anywhere. Sig had found us hiking on the side of a country road and picked us up and took us to what would wind up being our home for the next few years.
Of course, as soon as we got there, Teacher had kicked us ‘knuckle-headed brats’ out. Al was tenacious about this though. He had been more sensible than I, (and probably still was) and he knew that sleeping on the streets in a big city was a bad idea. So, we wound up throwing temper-tantrums on her front steps until she let us back in. After that, it was like we were her own kids. She fed us, bathed us and gave us a place to sleep at night. Of course she was hard on us, and made us work, but I myself didn’t mind. Working meant we were earning our place there.
It was only after we had been living here a while that we found out that Teacher had taken it upon herself to make a call to our home town and that the Rockbells were moving to Central…that was not a fun reunion.
The end all and be all of it was that we were stuck here. And I had refused to freeload forever. I vowed that I would start paying rent, but I was too young and under qualified to get a job that would pay for both me and my brother. So I had made the tough decision to join a gang…Al was devastated that I would do something so brash. Teacher and Pinako were furious (Teacher was so mad, that when I got my first tattoo, she slammed my head into a tree. The stitches only made me look more like a bad ass, though, so I didn’t mind much).
They didn’t understand that I had no choice…everyone thought that it would be okay for me to just wallow in my misery for free…it ended up that Teacher and I had a shouting match. She said that she hated gangs, and that she wouldn’t promote such things in her household. I had to ‘explain’ at the top of my lungs that this was non-optional. The only place I would ever stay in for free was in my home. And it wasn’t home anymore because Mom wasn’t there. I didn’t have a place for my childhood to be anymore, so I had given it up in favor of making sure that Al didn’t have to deal with all the crap that I did. I didn’t want to be a delinquent, but taking the blow for my little brother was a thousand times better than watching him fall.
Teacher tentatively accepted it after that and made me swear not to kill anyone or be killed myself. And over the last year or so, the rift in the house healed. It was true that Izumi Curtis wasn’t Mom, but she was the best thing Al and I had to call family in a long time. And I really cared for her because of that.
My stomach chose this moment to rouse me from my reverie and tell me just what it thought about me not helping get supper to it faster.
Teacher smiled at the sound of my stomach rumbling. Rather than commenting on it though, she just said,“You’re home early today.”
Yeah. Loa had noticed that I was having a pretty bad day and convinced Greed to let me have a day off. Surprisingly, he didn’t put up much of a fuss. The spikey haired asshole had the emotional attention span of a 13-year-old girl.
Rather than responding, I began exploring the fridge for something else to put in what I assumed was going to be soup. Naturally, the one time when I was preoccupied, was when the front door was opened and slammed shut with a resounding crack. After recovering from bonking my head on the refrigerator door (and keeping myself from swearing in front of Teacher) I stood up to see what had happened.
Al was in the process of storming across the front hall and up the stairs, stopping only to give me a hard glare. I guess he was still mad about our tussle the other day.
“I don’t think I want to know what that was…Go fix it Edward.” a smooth voice said from behind me.
“What!? Did you see his face? He looked about ready to kill me.” I complained as I turned around.
Teacher just looked at me like I would regret it if I didn’t go up and console my brother right now.
I sighed without really putting any feeling behind it and began the long trek up to Al’s room. I was sure that I was going to regret it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~