Post by taranova on Oct 3, 2011 18:57:17 GMT -5
Crappy, half-assed fluff I threw up because I was pissed at Ed being a misogynistic prick in some fics...
BTW: It's RoyEd, obviously, so don't like don't read.
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Shadows writhed on the walls, warm firelight accentuating darkness in a seemingly perpetual glow. Three-quarters of oil remained in the brass lamps which hung on the bedroom's ceiling, enough for the night, but not necessarily desired. It had been a hard day—not harrowing, as most days went, but demanding enough so that Edward Elric wanted nothing more than to strip off his muddy boots and crawl fully-clothed into bed with his significant other.
He entered quietly and smiled as his eyes fell on the room's only other occupant. A kind of heat flared up beneath his ribs, as if he had swallowed hot soup or tea. The feeling still held a novel quality although he had been experiencing it for close to three or four months now. Lavish words came to mind, decorative playful terms like love and romance, but he wasn't sure his and Roy's relationship could be defined in such petty summations.
Indeed, they were struggling to figure it out.
He was careful as he placed his coat on the knob of the armoire, too cautious to risk opening its creaking hinges, and slipped bare-foot beneath the heavy olive duvet. To his surprise, Roy was awake, bleary dark eyes watching him in the firelight.
"Missed you," Ed said, his words clumsy. He had learned that, at least when they were alone, he could reveal his doubts and longings. He hadn't spontaneously combusted yet, so that was probably a good sign.
He closed his eyes as Roy's fingers grazed his cheek and began to work at the knotted mess his braid had become. For some reason he only partially understood, the man liked messing with his hair at night when he didn't have the time to do it himself. It was nice to let go and feel the tangles brushed out, the tie pulled so that he needn't feel it against his skull as he slept.
"You stayed late tonight," Roy murmured, voice even and unperturbed. Clearly he had just woken up, and yet he disguised whatever fatigue was present. He smoothed Ed's hair back, and then went back to running his fingers through it slowly. "Run into trouble?"
"Civilian police," Ed muttered distastefully, brow furrowing as he remembered the events of the evening. He and Al had been instructed to guard a warehouse on the west end. Apparently, an illegal transaction of some sort was meant to have taken place. Three hours into the watch duties, a few cops high on testosterone had instructed them to leave, insisting it was their jurisdiction. Bullshit. "Didn't get in a fight or nothin'. Just got pissed off. Had to put 'em in their place."
Roy paused in his movements, though his face gave nothing away. "And how exactly did you do that?"
Ed snorted, and then scooted closer so that they were almost nose to nose. "Relax. I told you, I'm smarter than that. Just showed them my watch and the written order and they backed off. For the most part." He glared down at nothing in particular, and remained silent, head tucked under Roy's chin as if it belonged.
Roy had a tendency to contemplate things in complete and utter silence, and Ed had a feeling he was doing it now.
"What?" he snapped.
"For the most part?"
"Well – yeah, I mean, shit was said, but I didn't punch anyone," he defended, tilting his head up. A log popped in the fire grate, and he felt a wet spark flare to life again in his gut. All he had wanted was to lie down and forget about how miserable and stupid his choice in career was, and now his goddamn boyfriend (idiotic term, not a boy or a friend) couldn't leave well enough alone. "Go to sleep."
"Not until you tell me what's bothering you. You brood; I practically can hear the steam coming out of your ears." Roy sighed, and then stiffened up as Ed squeaked a few quiet words that he couldn't possibly hear. "What?"
"I said," Ed gritted out, automail hand strangling the duvet, "they called me a fucking girl."
Roy was silent. Ed was afraid he had broken him, perhaps pushed him to a protective, livid state of no return. Then the man started laughing, and Ed decided he would have to kick the man's balls. With his metal foot.
"It's not funny, you piece of shit!"
"What did you do them?" Roy managed.
"Told them that was a stupid thing to say!" Ed snarled, squirming back so that Roy could see the anger he desperately wanted to take out on his manhood. "For one thing, it's goddamn dumb to call someone a girl as an insult. There's nothin' wrong with being a girl. Hell, I know a lot of women who have more balls than those goddamn cops did."
Apparently, whatever Roy had been expecting him to say, it hadn't been that. The man was quiet again, eyes meeting his contemplatively. He nodded for him to go on.
"Yeah. Secondly," –Ed fumbled for his thoughts, trying to remember exactly where he had been going with this speech—"fuck the whole gender thing. People are always saying, hey, you're a guy and you're dating a guy and you're shorter and prettier and all that shit—does that make you the girl? Well, maybe it does, but what does being the girl fuckin' mean? You don't fall in love with a gender; you fall in love with a person."
He realized, too late, that he had used the forbidden 'L' word, but by the time his brain calculated the consequences he had already trailed off into an unholy silence. He relinquished his grip on the poor duvet, and returned to his coveted spot beneath Roy's chin where he could breathe in the scent of the man's musk and his own shame in relative quiet.
He felt Roy's words whispered against his head. "You're never going to escape people like that, Ed, no matter how much you want to. Fundamentally there's gender and then there are gender roles, and it's up to you which role you want to fill."
"What if I don't want either of 'em?" Ed asked. "What if I don't wanna be some simpering lovesick puppy who cooks your damn dinner every night? What if I don't wanna be some macho asshole who parades his dick around like it's a fucking totem pole?"
"Be who you are," Roy answered. "Be who you want to be. Don't change because someone tells you too and don't be ashamed of the qualities you do have. Like you said—I fell in love with you for you, not because I thought you'd make a good shopping buddy or something."
A pause. "Roy?" Ed said tentatively. "I kinda like you sometimes. You're a pain in the ass and you hog the blankets and you never save any coffee for me and you're a bitch of a commanding officer, but—I don't know. You're smart. I like it."
Roy chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Does this mean we can go to sleep now?"
Ed shrugged, nuzzling against the warmth of his lover's body. "If you play with my hair some more."
BTW: It's RoyEd, obviously, so don't like don't read.
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Shadows writhed on the walls, warm firelight accentuating darkness in a seemingly perpetual glow. Three-quarters of oil remained in the brass lamps which hung on the bedroom's ceiling, enough for the night, but not necessarily desired. It had been a hard day—not harrowing, as most days went, but demanding enough so that Edward Elric wanted nothing more than to strip off his muddy boots and crawl fully-clothed into bed with his significant other.
He entered quietly and smiled as his eyes fell on the room's only other occupant. A kind of heat flared up beneath his ribs, as if he had swallowed hot soup or tea. The feeling still held a novel quality although he had been experiencing it for close to three or four months now. Lavish words came to mind, decorative playful terms like love and romance, but he wasn't sure his and Roy's relationship could be defined in such petty summations.
Indeed, they were struggling to figure it out.
He was careful as he placed his coat on the knob of the armoire, too cautious to risk opening its creaking hinges, and slipped bare-foot beneath the heavy olive duvet. To his surprise, Roy was awake, bleary dark eyes watching him in the firelight.
"Missed you," Ed said, his words clumsy. He had learned that, at least when they were alone, he could reveal his doubts and longings. He hadn't spontaneously combusted yet, so that was probably a good sign.
He closed his eyes as Roy's fingers grazed his cheek and began to work at the knotted mess his braid had become. For some reason he only partially understood, the man liked messing with his hair at night when he didn't have the time to do it himself. It was nice to let go and feel the tangles brushed out, the tie pulled so that he needn't feel it against his skull as he slept.
"You stayed late tonight," Roy murmured, voice even and unperturbed. Clearly he had just woken up, and yet he disguised whatever fatigue was present. He smoothed Ed's hair back, and then went back to running his fingers through it slowly. "Run into trouble?"
"Civilian police," Ed muttered distastefully, brow furrowing as he remembered the events of the evening. He and Al had been instructed to guard a warehouse on the west end. Apparently, an illegal transaction of some sort was meant to have taken place. Three hours into the watch duties, a few cops high on testosterone had instructed them to leave, insisting it was their jurisdiction. Bullshit. "Didn't get in a fight or nothin'. Just got pissed off. Had to put 'em in their place."
Roy paused in his movements, though his face gave nothing away. "And how exactly did you do that?"
Ed snorted, and then scooted closer so that they were almost nose to nose. "Relax. I told you, I'm smarter than that. Just showed them my watch and the written order and they backed off. For the most part." He glared down at nothing in particular, and remained silent, head tucked under Roy's chin as if it belonged.
Roy had a tendency to contemplate things in complete and utter silence, and Ed had a feeling he was doing it now.
"What?" he snapped.
"For the most part?"
"Well – yeah, I mean, shit was said, but I didn't punch anyone," he defended, tilting his head up. A log popped in the fire grate, and he felt a wet spark flare to life again in his gut. All he had wanted was to lie down and forget about how miserable and stupid his choice in career was, and now his goddamn boyfriend (idiotic term, not a boy or a friend) couldn't leave well enough alone. "Go to sleep."
"Not until you tell me what's bothering you. You brood; I practically can hear the steam coming out of your ears." Roy sighed, and then stiffened up as Ed squeaked a few quiet words that he couldn't possibly hear. "What?"
"I said," Ed gritted out, automail hand strangling the duvet, "they called me a fucking girl."
Roy was silent. Ed was afraid he had broken him, perhaps pushed him to a protective, livid state of no return. Then the man started laughing, and Ed decided he would have to kick the man's balls. With his metal foot.
"It's not funny, you piece of shit!"
"What did you do them?" Roy managed.
"Told them that was a stupid thing to say!" Ed snarled, squirming back so that Roy could see the anger he desperately wanted to take out on his manhood. "For one thing, it's goddamn dumb to call someone a girl as an insult. There's nothin' wrong with being a girl. Hell, I know a lot of women who have more balls than those goddamn cops did."
Apparently, whatever Roy had been expecting him to say, it hadn't been that. The man was quiet again, eyes meeting his contemplatively. He nodded for him to go on.
"Yeah. Secondly," –Ed fumbled for his thoughts, trying to remember exactly where he had been going with this speech—"fuck the whole gender thing. People are always saying, hey, you're a guy and you're dating a guy and you're shorter and prettier and all that shit—does that make you the girl? Well, maybe it does, but what does being the girl fuckin' mean? You don't fall in love with a gender; you fall in love with a person."
He realized, too late, that he had used the forbidden 'L' word, but by the time his brain calculated the consequences he had already trailed off into an unholy silence. He relinquished his grip on the poor duvet, and returned to his coveted spot beneath Roy's chin where he could breathe in the scent of the man's musk and his own shame in relative quiet.
He felt Roy's words whispered against his head. "You're never going to escape people like that, Ed, no matter how much you want to. Fundamentally there's gender and then there are gender roles, and it's up to you which role you want to fill."
"What if I don't want either of 'em?" Ed asked. "What if I don't wanna be some simpering lovesick puppy who cooks your damn dinner every night? What if I don't wanna be some macho asshole who parades his dick around like it's a fucking totem pole?"
"Be who you are," Roy answered. "Be who you want to be. Don't change because someone tells you too and don't be ashamed of the qualities you do have. Like you said—I fell in love with you for you, not because I thought you'd make a good shopping buddy or something."
A pause. "Roy?" Ed said tentatively. "I kinda like you sometimes. You're a pain in the ass and you hog the blankets and you never save any coffee for me and you're a bitch of a commanding officer, but—I don't know. You're smart. I like it."
Roy chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Does this mean we can go to sleep now?"
Ed shrugged, nuzzling against the warmth of his lover's body. "If you play with my hair some more."