Leaving
Title:Leaving
Fandom: FMA
Prompt: 100moods #56 Morose
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Author: inugrlrayn
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ed debates whether the sacrifices aren't worth the rewards.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.
The rest of my fics are here.
Somewhere, there was someone in the world that Ed could get through the day without fighting with. Somewhere there was someone he could love without constant, gnawing worry that this was it and any moment it would be over. That someone was not Roy Mustang, and he was leaving.
“Do we have to do this again?” Roy’s voice was soft in the doorway of their bedroom as he watched Ed pack.
“There’s no ‘again’ about it. I’m not coming back this time,” Ed hissed, shoving a wad of shirts into his suitcase.
“You said that last time, but here we are.” Ed didn’t dare look up, not when Roy’s voice had cracked on his own words. Ed couldn’t tell if it was true emotion or just a carefully crafted act to make him feel badly, but he knew if he looked at Roy, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
Instead, he dumped the contents of another drawer into his suitcase, “Well that’s a mistake I intend to rectify.”
“Have I really done something so awful that we can’t work it out?” Roy’s voice was almost level, but Ed glanced up and cursed himself when he found no lie there. It was easier if he could pretend Roy was just a heartless bastard who’d strung him along for the last five years, but the anguish was plain on Roy’s face, assuming one knew what to look for. Ed wished rather distinctly that he didn’t know what to look for, so that he could keep pretending Roy didn’t care.
“How long have we been trying to work it out? If it was going to smooth out, it would have by now,” Ed growled, because if he let himself stop being angry, even for a moment…
“Is it really not worth it to keep trying?” Roy asked as Ed pulled his things off the dresser.
He was glad he’d turned away so Roy couldn’t see the way his hands faltered over a small knick knack Roy had given him the year before. He steeled himself, muttering, “You make me want to beat your stupid face in.”
“Sometimes that’s mutual, I assure you.” Roy sighed, shaking his head. “But the ‘wanting to strangle you’ moments are always worth all the rest.”
“For you, maybe,” Ed grumbled.
“It’s not worth it to you?” Roy visibly flinched as Ed toyed with a ring on his finger. It was the only remotely romantic gift Roy had ever given him.
“I’m tired Roy. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being miserable. Relationships aren’t supposed to be this painful.” Ed eyed the ring for a long moment before swallowing and slipping it off. He set it on the dresser, just Roy’s dresser now.
“I won’t… I can’t ask you to stay.” Roy stepped aside as Ed hoisted his suitcase from a bed no longer his. Roy’s voice was so soft, Ed almost missed the rest. “But no matter how miserable we make each other sometimes… it’s always worse without you.”
“I don’t want to be the lesser of two evils, Roy.” Ed shoved past Roy because his chest clenched with a familiar pain and he knew he’d give in if he stopped.
“That’s not what I was saying.” Roy stood a few steps from the bottom of the staircase, watching Ed pull on his boots..
“Then what?” Ed demanded tiredly from his spot on the foyer rug.
“I was saying that… the bad times are worth it, Ed. I was saying that even when it hurts, I still love you.” There was that pleading look and Ed turned away because it made his eyes sting.
“I love you, too,” Ed admitted, tying the laces of his boots. “It’s not enough.”
“I understand. Will you at least stay for dinner?” Roy’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Ed wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t known the man for a decade, hadn’t shared a bed with him for half of that. As it was, he did notice, and it pricked regretfully at his conscience.
He should say no. He should go before he lost his resolve. Even as Ed’s mind screamed at him, he heard himself mumble, “I guess I can.”
Dinner was awkward at first. The silence was brutal and thick between them, and Roy looked as miserable as Ed felt. It left Ed wondering why he’d agreed to stay for even this.
It started small. How was the office and how was Al, and it sort or reminded Ed of their very first date. Bit by bit, it became something else. Ed gestured animatedly with his fork telling a story about a rather unfortunate experiment, and for once Roy didn’t chastise him for his carelessness. He only laughed, and it had been long enough since Ed had heard that sound that he forgot how much he liked it. He was sorry to find somewhere along the way he’d cleaned his plate.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Ed offered gruffly, not sure why he was making excuses to stick around when he’d been in such a hurry to go. It wasn’t an excuse, he told himself. It was the least he could do for Roy feeding him before he went on his way.
“I’ll dry,” Roy replied, his voice carefully neutral as he cleared the table.
Ed ran the water, idly watching a thick sheet of bubbles form on the surface. Roy stood at his side, and for a moment all Ed could think was how much he was going to miss the mundane things like this. Roy appeared to be lost in thought, his face heartbreakingly open, like he couldn’t manage to hold up his mask around Ed of all people.
Whatever else lay between them, Ed couldn’t deny how well they worked together. Their cohesion, even in this, was utterly seamless. There were muttered insults as they poked at each other’s nerves, but there was no venom in it, and Ed’s chest ached at the realization of all he was walking away from.
Roy swiped the towel across the last plate, and it settled in the cabinet with soft clink. There was nothing left to keep Ed here. No excuses crept between him and the door, but he was smiling at something Roy had said. Roy’s lips quirked back at him tentatively, as if he didn’t dare hope.
“Do you have everything?” Roy asked softly, shattering the moment.
Ed scowled at Roy, more in frustration than any sort of anger. How was he meant to leave when Roy was making him smile like that? The quiet drew out, crushing in its anticipation, and finally Ed sagged in defeat, muttering. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all going back up the stupid stairs anyway.”
Roy offered Ed a full-fledged grin, the kind no one else ever got to see. He cupped Ed’s jaw in his hand, and gently tilted it upward. Soft lips pressed over Ed’s, and Ed wasn’t sure why he ever bothered when all he could seem to do was melt into Roy.
Ed sighed against Roy’s lips, curling his arms around the only person he’d ever loved. He traced the knobs of Roy’s spine with his fingers, sucking in a breath as warm, wet kisses strayed away from his lips to scatter along the side of his throat.
Somehow, they made it up the stairs, though the shiny wood steps were marred here and there by Ed’s shirt and one of Ed’s boots. Roy’s clothing made it intact to the top of the steps, if only just barely. Ed’s other shoe was gone just after that, and by the time they actually reached the bedroom, there was nothing left but bare skin and frantic touches.
It was always better on nights like this. Roy’s body burned against his as they moved together. Every touch of lips and tongue smoldered on Ed’s skin. He rose and fell to the tune Roy played over the length of his body, and the sheets felt like home.
Afterwards, they lay in a tangled heap, lost in the sheets and each other’s arms. Roy’s nose pressed against the back of Ed’s neck, and his hands coiled around Ed’s belly, until Ed couldn’t move. Ed curled up in his arms, boneless and content, even as he muttered. “Next time, I’m leaving. I really mean it.”
There was just a moment where Roy went still and Ed’s heart dropped into his stomach. It passed with a chuckle against the shell of his ear, and Roy’s arms winding just a little tighter around his middle. “I’m sure you are.”
Fandom: FMA
Prompt: 100moods #56 Morose
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Author: inugrlrayn
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ed debates whether the sacrifices aren't worth the rewards.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.
The rest of my fics are here.
Somewhere, there was someone in the world that Ed could get through the day without fighting with. Somewhere there was someone he could love without constant, gnawing worry that this was it and any moment it would be over. That someone was not Roy Mustang, and he was leaving.
“Do we have to do this again?” Roy’s voice was soft in the doorway of their bedroom as he watched Ed pack.
“There’s no ‘again’ about it. I’m not coming back this time,” Ed hissed, shoving a wad of shirts into his suitcase.
“You said that last time, but here we are.” Ed didn’t dare look up, not when Roy’s voice had cracked on his own words. Ed couldn’t tell if it was true emotion or just a carefully crafted act to make him feel badly, but he knew if he looked at Roy, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
Instead, he dumped the contents of another drawer into his suitcase, “Well that’s a mistake I intend to rectify.”
“Have I really done something so awful that we can’t work it out?” Roy’s voice was almost level, but Ed glanced up and cursed himself when he found no lie there. It was easier if he could pretend Roy was just a heartless bastard who’d strung him along for the last five years, but the anguish was plain on Roy’s face, assuming one knew what to look for. Ed wished rather distinctly that he didn’t know what to look for, so that he could keep pretending Roy didn’t care.
“How long have we been trying to work it out? If it was going to smooth out, it would have by now,” Ed growled, because if he let himself stop being angry, even for a moment…
“Is it really not worth it to keep trying?” Roy asked as Ed pulled his things off the dresser.
He was glad he’d turned away so Roy couldn’t see the way his hands faltered over a small knick knack Roy had given him the year before. He steeled himself, muttering, “You make me want to beat your stupid face in.”
“Sometimes that’s mutual, I assure you.” Roy sighed, shaking his head. “But the ‘wanting to strangle you’ moments are always worth all the rest.”
“For you, maybe,” Ed grumbled.
“It’s not worth it to you?” Roy visibly flinched as Ed toyed with a ring on his finger. It was the only remotely romantic gift Roy had ever given him.
“I’m tired Roy. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being miserable. Relationships aren’t supposed to be this painful.” Ed eyed the ring for a long moment before swallowing and slipping it off. He set it on the dresser, just Roy’s dresser now.
“I won’t… I can’t ask you to stay.” Roy stepped aside as Ed hoisted his suitcase from a bed no longer his. Roy’s voice was so soft, Ed almost missed the rest. “But no matter how miserable we make each other sometimes… it’s always worse without you.”
“I don’t want to be the lesser of two evils, Roy.” Ed shoved past Roy because his chest clenched with a familiar pain and he knew he’d give in if he stopped.
“That’s not what I was saying.” Roy stood a few steps from the bottom of the staircase, watching Ed pull on his boots..
“Then what?” Ed demanded tiredly from his spot on the foyer rug.
“I was saying that… the bad times are worth it, Ed. I was saying that even when it hurts, I still love you.” There was that pleading look and Ed turned away because it made his eyes sting.
“I love you, too,” Ed admitted, tying the laces of his boots. “It’s not enough.”
“I understand. Will you at least stay for dinner?” Roy’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Ed wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t known the man for a decade, hadn’t shared a bed with him for half of that. As it was, he did notice, and it pricked regretfully at his conscience.
He should say no. He should go before he lost his resolve. Even as Ed’s mind screamed at him, he heard himself mumble, “I guess I can.”
Dinner was awkward at first. The silence was brutal and thick between them, and Roy looked as miserable as Ed felt. It left Ed wondering why he’d agreed to stay for even this.
It started small. How was the office and how was Al, and it sort or reminded Ed of their very first date. Bit by bit, it became something else. Ed gestured animatedly with his fork telling a story about a rather unfortunate experiment, and for once Roy didn’t chastise him for his carelessness. He only laughed, and it had been long enough since Ed had heard that sound that he forgot how much he liked it. He was sorry to find somewhere along the way he’d cleaned his plate.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Ed offered gruffly, not sure why he was making excuses to stick around when he’d been in such a hurry to go. It wasn’t an excuse, he told himself. It was the least he could do for Roy feeding him before he went on his way.
“I’ll dry,” Roy replied, his voice carefully neutral as he cleared the table.
Ed ran the water, idly watching a thick sheet of bubbles form on the surface. Roy stood at his side, and for a moment all Ed could think was how much he was going to miss the mundane things like this. Roy appeared to be lost in thought, his face heartbreakingly open, like he couldn’t manage to hold up his mask around Ed of all people.
Whatever else lay between them, Ed couldn’t deny how well they worked together. Their cohesion, even in this, was utterly seamless. There were muttered insults as they poked at each other’s nerves, but there was no venom in it, and Ed’s chest ached at the realization of all he was walking away from.
Roy swiped the towel across the last plate, and it settled in the cabinet with soft clink. There was nothing left to keep Ed here. No excuses crept between him and the door, but he was smiling at something Roy had said. Roy’s lips quirked back at him tentatively, as if he didn’t dare hope.
“Do you have everything?” Roy asked softly, shattering the moment.
Ed scowled at Roy, more in frustration than any sort of anger. How was he meant to leave when Roy was making him smile like that? The quiet drew out, crushing in its anticipation, and finally Ed sagged in defeat, muttering. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all going back up the stupid stairs anyway.”
Roy offered Ed a full-fledged grin, the kind no one else ever got to see. He cupped Ed’s jaw in his hand, and gently tilted it upward. Soft lips pressed over Ed’s, and Ed wasn’t sure why he ever bothered when all he could seem to do was melt into Roy.
Ed sighed against Roy’s lips, curling his arms around the only person he’d ever loved. He traced the knobs of Roy’s spine with his fingers, sucking in a breath as warm, wet kisses strayed away from his lips to scatter along the side of his throat.
Somehow, they made it up the stairs, though the shiny wood steps were marred here and there by Ed’s shirt and one of Ed’s boots. Roy’s clothing made it intact to the top of the steps, if only just barely. Ed’s other shoe was gone just after that, and by the time they actually reached the bedroom, there was nothing left but bare skin and frantic touches.
It was always better on nights like this. Roy’s body burned against his as they moved together. Every touch of lips and tongue smoldered on Ed’s skin. He rose and fell to the tune Roy played over the length of his body, and the sheets felt like home.
Afterwards, they lay in a tangled heap, lost in the sheets and each other’s arms. Roy’s nose pressed against the back of Ed’s neck, and his hands coiled around Ed’s belly, until Ed couldn’t move. Ed curled up in his arms, boneless and content, even as he muttered. “Next time, I’m leaving. I really mean it.”
There was just a moment where Roy went still and Ed’s heart dropped into his stomach. It passed with a chuckle against the shell of his ear, and Roy’s arms winding just a little tighter around his middle. “I’m sure you are.”