bard_linn | FMA: Walking Dream [RxE]

One of the best things about coming to livejournal is working with other writers. One of my favorites to work with is

kytyngurl2 who was dubbed Roy over in HoS. With me being the Ed for HoS, the two of us talk a lot. Many times we spontaneously slip into role playing. Which generally turns into Roy/Ed (probably because both of us are such fangirls of the pairing). This fic resulted from a recent such conversation.

Coauthored:

bard_linn and

kytyngurl2
Title: Waking Dream
Summary: It seemed far to real for a dream, yet surely he could not be here?
Warnings: SPOILERS for all of the series, Roy/Ed relationship, minor smutish type thing in middle with lots of imagry, confusion. R-rated.
Note: This refrences The Grand Struggle by

kytyngurl2. This cute humor fic also now has fanart by

celes_grant which is so wonderful and every Roy/Ed fan should go squee over it.

Waking Dream

The first time it happened, Edward had found himself by Roy’s side in what looked to be a darkened hospital room. The other alchemist was moaning softly in pain, his chest heaving and his skin dotted with a pale shean of sweat. Ed couldn't even see much of the other man's face. It was covered up by bloodstained bandages.

The image of his lover, pale and wounded against white sheets, shocked him so much he abruptly woke up, terrified and gasping for breath. The dream had seemed so real, unlike so many he had in the past. Even those nightmares.

Later, when Ed had calmed himself, he decided the dream most likely originated from his own guilt at letting Roy confront a homunculus alone. Edward knew far too well how fatal combat with one of those creatures could be. His own chest bore the proof of that, in the form of a faint pink scar. The odds that Roy had died while fighting Pride were terribly high, after all.

If... if he was... gone... the blond certainly had no way of knowing. Despite his struggles to get back to his home, he was still here. Still in this strange land of many cultures, flying machines, multiple languages, and weird technology.

If Roy was dead, then that was another funeral Ed never got to attend.

Over the next year and a half, Ed continued to have constant, vivid, and realistic dreams of meeting his lover. It was always night-time, and he always ended up standing by Roy’s side as the older man slept. The settings changed, but those things remained constant.

It was hard, but Ed always managed to restrain his urge to touch his lover.

The temptation grew with every dream, though. The more time that passed since he had last seen the older man, the stronger it got. It had been too long since he last heard Roy's low laughter, felt his arms around him, or even got into a fight with the often annoying alchemist.

In the end, Ed was able, just barely, to keep his hands to himself. It was sad, really. The mere sight of his lover was better than nothing.

He didn't want to lose that too.

Therefore, the former alchemist spent a great deal of time during these strange dreams pondering.

It was funny really. In the end, Roy had been right; Edward hadn’t really trusted him much at all. The blond had not understood Mustang’s goals, nor did he try. He had only seen his commanding officer's urge to gain more power and higher ranks. So when Al had become the Philosopher’s Stone, Ed had run, afraid his brother would become a mere bargaining chip in the Flame Alchemist's constant play for power.

Edward hadn’t let himself see the loyalty Roy gave and recieved from his subordinates. He had stubbornly refused to acknowledge how much the alchemist worked to protect those under his command or the efforts the older man made to help himself and his brother. Not even once did the blond stopped and pondered what really was behind those dark eyes... what goals the other had truly held.

In short, Edward was selfish. And probably childish.

True, he had been rather busy trying to find the Stone, take care of his brother, and keep up his certification. Not to mention coping with all the normal challenges a teenager faced. Still, that wasn’t much of an excuse, especially after the pair became lovers.

...Or perhaps "lovers" was the wrong word. While the pair had undoubtedly shared a bed from time to time, neither person in the pair had opened their hearts to the other. Ed had barely trusted the other man, in fact.

He was surprised how much that realization hurt.

Maybe being stranded in this world had softened him... but he found he wanted a partner now. Someone he could share the same type of bond he had seen between Maes Hughes and his wife. Or the one he faintly remembered his own parents having, before his father had left.

Oh, not that he wanted to go out on dates and be showered with presents like some sort of girl, but it would be nice to have someone to share dinner and spend time with. A person he could talk to without constantly feeling like he had to be on guard or explain everything.

Roy could have been that for him.

He was such an idiot.

“Fullmetal.” The murmur of his old title jerked Edward out of his thoughts and back to the dimmly lit room of his dream. Roy was twisting in his sleep, his face now warped into a mask of terror. “Edward-- Ed, no.. DON’T!”

Ed quickly sat down on the bed and shook his lover’s shoulder frantically. “Colonel Mustang! ROY! Wake up!” The Flame Alchemist did so, but sat up so abruptly their foreheads collided, causing Edward to fall over backwards with a yelp.

Rubbing his forehead, the blond regarded the other man with wide eyes. He was still here. The older man was still with him.

“...Edward?!” Roy murmured, staring back at a face he hadn't seen in months. The dark haired man blinked rapidly as he did so, as if to confirm the image in front of him.

It didn't go away.

“Interesting change in outfit, Fullmetal.”

Ed rolled his eyes. Even his subconscious insisted on insulting him. Figured. “Shut up,” he growled, heart beating hard in his chest. He had touched Roy and still hadn’t woken up. Maybe…

The blond turned onto his knees, –too short!- then leaned up and suddenly kissed his lover. It started off gentle. Ed half expected to wake up any second, after all, but it soon deepened as the image didn’t shatter. When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, Edward saw a familiar look of desire in dark eyes.

“Too damn long.”

“Indeed,” Roy breathed, his voice soft but somehow awed. The older man reached up to pull the tie out of Ed’s hair... yet another familiarity.

For a moment there was a flicker, and Edward could have sworn he saw something... a dark something... covering the other's face. Then it was gone again.

Long fingers ran through the soft strands then paused, only to attack Ed’s clothing a second later. The blond gladly returned the favor, his pulse already quickening. Gloved hands traced scars, committing each change to memory while rediscovering old marks.

It wasn’t slow or gentle love-making. It was fast, hard, passionate, and not quite like anything either had experienced before. Distantly, Edward had wondered if both-

Or himself. This was just a dream.

-Were afraid it would end any minute now. That he would wake up to find himself alone in bed yet again, the other gone.

It almost hurt when it ended, but in a good way. Ed disentangled himself from his sweaty bed-mate and rolled over to the other side of the bed. On his way, he snagged a familiar blue pillow.

“Ed, give me that," grumbled the other man sleepily.

“No.”

“Damn it, Fullmetal, if you don’t give me that right now – ”

“No,” Ed repeated. He hit the elder man on the head with the pillow. “What do you need that for anyway? You’ve got me.”

“Edward…” his lover’s face lost its irritation immediately. Roy's expression softened, surprise clear in his gaze. “...I thought you didn’t like cuddling.” The words retained their usual snark; but the expression on Roy’s face took out any bite they might have once had.

“Yeah, well I guess I can put up with it sometimes,” Ed replied, looking away from the older man and that look in his eyes. He abandoned the pillow and threw his arms around the other. “I am allowed to change my mind, after all.”

“Indeed...” Roy replied softly, stroking the blond’s long hair back from his eyes.

They stayed that way for a long while, quietly enjoying each other’s presence. Silently Ed wondered why it was only here, in his dreams, they could be like this. So comfortable with each other. It wasn’t fair.

But he was too stubborn and prideful and Roy too controlled and closed. Things... things like this were only for dreams in the end. Not reality.

“I can’t stay long.” Ed sighed, head on his lover's chest. He liked it here, but already he could feel himself waking up. Going back to the forgein land he had been stuck in for far too long already.

Roy’s arms tightened about him. “...It’s far too boring around here without you. Edward.”

“Oh, so that’s all I’m good for, huh? Your personal amusement?!” Ed mock growled as he untangled himself.

Roy shook his head and chuckled. “I suggest you get cleaned up.”

Edward had to agree. Who could have thought dreams could be so messy? He reluctantly left the bed, gathered up his clothes, and vanished into the bathroom. A few minutes later he returned, having cleaned most of the mess off, and quickly redressed.

Time was running short, he could feel it. So he sadly gave Roy one last long kiss. “I will be back. I will see you again.” And we’re going to talk when I get home for real, he added silently. Ed wasn’t going to let their relationship stay the way it had been before. There was no way.

The Flame Alchemist gave his lover one of his rare open smiles. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Edward?”

With that, the dream shattered into a billion pieces. Ed groaned and lifted his head from the table, blearily brushing away the book that was in front of him.

It was over.

“Really, you shouldn’t sleep at the table. It isn’t good for you.” Alfons Heiderich frowned and took a step back, giving the older man a look.

“I’m an adult, Al. Leave me alone,” Ed groaned. Rubbing his eyes with his left hand, he added, “And for the last time, call me 'Ed'!”

“Ed-ward-- your wrist!”

“What about it?” Ed grumbled, confused. He shoved the unbuttoned sleeve further up so he could look at it. His eyes widened in surprise as the sight-- and a second later the faint pain-- registered.

A dark bruise marked his pale, otherwise unblemished skin.

End note: Yes, it was very hard to type Alphonse Heiderich. I wanted to type Masuta.