Chapter Text
The next day when Ed sat down in homeroom, cheerfully greeting him like usual, Roy realised that it would not be that easy after all. He couldn't get the thought of last night out of his head. His dick rocketed to life, and he knew that his cheeks immediately went bright red.
“We still on for ice-cream tonight?” Ed asked. Without warning, a vision of Ed licking ice-cream off his face appeared in his mind; Ed looking up at him from underneath eyelashes, nibbling his lips until they were red and swollen, moving his mouth down, down-
“U-uh, y-yeah, sure.” He stammered.
“You okay?” Ed asked, touching Roy's cheek with his gloved hand, “You're bright red.”
Roy wanted to spontaneously combust. “Yeah, j-just didn't get a lot of sleep.”
“Whatever you say.”
He spent the rest of homeroom trying to get it to go away, and in the end discovered that thinking about your family dying was a real boner killer.
At lunch Roy was back with Ed's crowd. He mostly talked to Riza about her shooting competitions, finding it a great distraction from the fact that Edward was sitting next to him. It was difficult – their shoulders kept bumping and Ed tried many times to start a conversation, but he gave one-word answers. He would not allow it to happen here; not surrounded by acquaintances, people who he still didn't quite trust.
“What do you have last?” Ed asked during a lull in his and Riza's conversation.
“English lit. E7.”
“I'll pick you up, yeah?” The other patted his shoulder. “I know there's an ice-cream place just around the corner.”
Roy knew of it but had never been himself. He had never had anyone to go with. “Cool.”
“You sure you're not ill? You're being more monosyllabic than normal.”
“I told you, I didn't sleep well.” That much was true.
“As long as you're not going to give me any germs.” Ed replied.
“You sure you don't want that?” Havoc called from across the room.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ed yelled back, and Roy allowed himself to fade into the background as the group dissolved into yet another argument. He'd learnt by this point that most of their arguments were playful, but it still stressed him out to hear so much shouting. He'd had enough arguing for one lifetime.
True to his word, Ed showed up after English. They walked to the ice-cream shop in good spirits, Roy managing to get over his feelings and nervously ramble non-stop about 7The Crucible the whole way there.
“So really, the whole thing is a metaphor for the McCarthy trials in the 50s, because Miller was critical of the system at the time.” He finished.
“Dude, you're so sexy when you talk about literature.” Ed replied.
Roy did a double take, stumbling over an uneven paving stone. “W-wha-”
“Relax, I was just joking.” Edward laughed. “Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm not a fucking fag.”
His blood froze in his veins. “Oh, okay.”
“You should see the look on your face, absolutely priceless. Hey, we're here!” Ed said, deftly changing the subject and grabbing Roy's hand, dragging him through a door.
He ordered something at random, completely out of it whilst Ed chatted amiably to the girl behind the counter. Roy couldn't get that sentence out of his head. It filled him with a sense of dread that he didn't understand because he wasn't gay.
Ed guided him to an outside table to allow Scout to sit with them. “To having shitty childhoods!” He declared. Roy quietly echoed the call and took a lick of his ice-cream. He'd subconsciously ordered caramel with chocolate sprinkles – Maes' favourite flavour. It tasted a little more bittersweet after he realised that.
“Have you had the Chemistry test yet?” Ed asked amid licks.
Roy shook his head. “Have you?”
“Yeah, it's the worst.” Ed said. “I'm pretty sure Kimblee hates my guts as well.”
“Why?” He asked.
“I don't know? Well actually, maybe it was because I corrected him in my first lesson, but still, he's bore that grudge for a long time.” The other rambled. “I thought he'd be over it by now.”
“I see.”
“No, you don't.” Ed shot back, then slapped something, probably his mouth with the muffled way he said “Shit, sorry.” He sounded so shocked that Roy couldn't help bursting into laughter.
“I needed that, thanks.” He said truthfully, wiping at his eyes, which had dutifully begun to water.
“You're welcome.” Ed replied, and he was still laughing but he sounded so sincere and it was beautiful.
Shit. He was gay.
Once Roy realised he was gay, he did everything in his power to deny it. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it.
He started showering daily, using the time to privately jerk off to the thought of Ed. He'd experimented a bit more and seemed to have a technique that he liked and worked quickly. Whilst he did, he tried to forget that it was Edward who he was thinking of but failed miserably. He couldn't help but think of him; perfect, beautiful Ed who was also unattainable and homophobic. Reminding himself of that fact didn't seem to help, and he found what little self-esteem he had built up over the past few weeks crumbling away. He became grateful for his antidepressants, which was something he never thought he would say.
Edward became his entire world, both the high and low points of the day. He relished being in Ed's presence; whenever Ed was around the bullies didn't dare touch him, and Ed treated him like he was human, like he they were friends. On the other hand, Ed was a reminder of everything that he couldn't have and couldn't be. Ed trusted him, and he was breaking that trust daily. Just thinking about it filled him with shame.
“It's okay, you know.” Riza said. They were walking to Chinese, the only class that Roy shared with any of their group.
“What's okay?” He asked.
“That you're gay.”
Roy tried to splutter some sort of excuse but Riza immediately shut him down. “I've seen the way you, sorry, look at Ed, so don't lie to me. It's so obvious, the only one that can't see it is Ed himself.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I won't deny it.”
“I told you, it's fine.” She said. “No one gives a shit. Besides, I'm a lesbian.”
This had Roy choking on air. “Are you sure?” He asked when he finally regained control of his breathing.
“That I'm a lesbian? Yes.”
“That's not what I mean, and you know it.”
“What makes you not sure?”
“Ed said, and I quote, 'I'm not a fucking fag.' Pretty sure that's not a term of endearment.” Scout whined, and he scratched her back.
“Oh Roy.” Riza was quiet now, tone apologetic. “I didn't know.”
“Of course, you didn't.” He sighed. They were quiet as they got settled at their desk.
“I accept you.” Riza said quietly. “The others will accept you. Just so you know.”
“Pretty sure they barely put up with me as it is.” Roy muttered darkly. Before Riza could reply the teacher started the lesson, and he was grateful that the conversation was over.
“You seem to have hit a wall.” Izumi commented at their session on Friday.
“No shit.” He murmured.
“What's brought this on?” Izumi asked. Roy told her a highly edited version of the week’s events. He'd learnt quickly that it was better to just tell her what she wanted.
Dr. Curtis was quiet, taking notes on her ever-present paper. “So, it's sharing your past with Edward that has you upset.”
Roy shook his head. “Bit more complicated than that.”
“You know you can tell me anything, Roy.” Izumi put a hand on his knee.
“I just-” He started. “I'm scared that no one will accept me when I tell them the truth.” That much was true, in more ways than one.
Izumi rubbed small circles into his leg. “Roy, if they don't accept you then they're not worth knowing, okay? Trust me.”
He didn't reply.
Izumi sighed. “If you feel up to it, we'll talk a bit more about your past okay?” He didn't have the energy to say no. “Can you tell me about that day?”
He didn't need her to specify. “It was almost Christmas, the 23rd. Maes came over for a sleepover. We watched Transformers and ate salted popcorn.” He kept his answers short and robotic.
“You're doing well.” Izumi told him.
“M-my parents tucked us into bed, my Dad said that he'd take us to play football tomorrow. My Mum said ‘사랑하는 아들’, it means 'b-beloved son'. She a-always used to call me that, and my Dad would try and copy her, but his pronunciation was terrible.” They used to talk in Korean for hours, and his Dad used to pretend that he was annoyed that he couldn't understand. Roy had felt so special, Korean was just for him and his 엄마. “They left a-and then...” He trailed off, eyes furiously watering. “I can't.”
“That's fine. You've done brilliantly.” In this moment, she reminded him so much of his mother that he almost burst into tears. “I'm glad that you're finally starting to open up.”
Roy just shrugged, not sure of how to reply. He pressed down on his eyes to stop the tears.
“How are you finding your meds?” Dr. Curtis asked, moving away from him, presumably to the other end of the sofa.
“They help.” As much as he hated to admit it, it was true – the emotions he now felt were watered down and less extreme.
“And your diary?”
“Good.” He wrote every day. It wasn't exactly a diary - more like a ring binder with sheets of loose-leaf paper he'd typed on.
“You seem to really be trying, Roy.” Izumi said. “Once you get past this bump in the road we'll be back on track.”
He shrugged again. Izumi dismissed him after that, and he was glad of the excuse to go home and cry. And then jerk off.
He settled into life with Chris fairly quickly. True to her word, she had taken him shopping, and he had gotten new clothes, a couple of books and, best of all, a cane. He loved his new independence – the fact that he could walk around the house without either being guided or fumbling around with his hands outstretched was something that he took advantage of as often as he could. He soon got used to the musky smell of the house and, although school was the same as ever, he could always rely on Chris watching TV with a cup of tea on that velvet sofa when he got back.
One thing that Roy never really got used to, however, were the girls that were constantly coming and going from the house. Chris owned a bar a couple of streets away which she often took him to on an evening, and all the girls were apparently her employees. Roy called bullshit – not on the girls being her workers, but the exact nature of their job. He knew a few of them well – Lucy and Hannah would come and chat whenever they had a break, Rose would sometimes help him with homework and India would tell him stories (very much PG, under Chris’ watchful eye that Roy could feel burning into his back). However, he never said anything to Chris about it, as he too had secrets that he was keeping.
The girls had a habit of walking into the house unannounced. Chris didn’t seem to mind, and Roy wasn’t in a position to complain about it. They never stayed long, only for a couple of hours at most, but it began to get on his nerves after a while. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice, far from it, they just treated him more like an invalid than he liked. He was thirteen, almost fourteen, for God’s sake – he was practically an adult! More often than not, he retreated to his room as soon as they arrived and didn’t come out until they left.
Roy was beginning to feel comfortable. And it scared him – the fact that he didn’t have to constantly be on edge, the fact that Chris said that he could talk to her whenever he wanted; these were things that he wasn’t used to. And sure, school was not the greatest, but at Chris’ house he almost felt safe.
His fourteenth birthday came, and they threw him a party at the bar. The girls gave him Braille books and sweets, and Chris gave him-
“An iPod.” Roy gasped. “And its mine?”
“Unless you don’t want it.” Chris replied, and Roy could hear her smirk.
“No, I do.” He clutched it close to his chest. Chris and the girls laughed.
“I got my boyfriend to set it up for you.” Rose said. “He said that it talks to you, so you can tell what you’re doing. He put some music on there already, but his taste is pretty questionable, so-“
“I love it!” He interrupted, smiling slightly. Rose had always been his favourite. “Tell him I said thank you.”
“And what about me, huh?” Chris asked, tone serious. “Don’t I get some thanks, you ungrateful young man?”
“Thank you, A-Aunty.” He tripped on the word, never having called Chris anything other than her first name before. From the way the girls cooed and tittered, it had the desired effect.
“Shut up and eat your birthday cake.” Chris said, and although her tone was gruff Roy knew she was just joking. He gladly did as she said.
That night, he lay in bed, listening to Rise Against, 30 seconds to Mars and Green Day until the iPod ran out of battery. He fell in love with music and the way it could transport him to another world, a world where everything could be different. He spent most days with earphones in, until Chris got angry and threatened to confiscate them if he didn’t talk to her more often.
Of course, it couldn’t last forever. One morning in November he couldn’t find Chris anywhere, and she wasn’t answering his cries. He eventually found her in bed, stone cold, and she wouldn’t wake up. One of the girls discovered him sometime in the afternoon, curled up beside her.
He was shipped off to another foster home soon after and everything went back to normal, the only remaining reminders of Chris his cane and a dented iPod.
The weeks blurred into each other and soon enough it was almost the Christmas holidays. Christmas was Roy's least favourite time of the year. Everyone was always so happy and he always just... wasn't. The weeks leading up to it he was more irritable than usual, his thoughts quickly souring. He tended to have more bad days and less good ones, the medication not doing much to help his moods. Izumi called it seasonal depression. Roy called it being in hell.
A week before school broke up, Roy was sat in maths in a particularly bad mood. Izumi had changed his medication and it seemed to be making things worse. He couldn't seem to calm down – no amount of feeling the stitching on his clothes or Scout's fur or even the gum under the desk helped. He could feel himself about to dissociate and forced himself to hold on – they were doing vectors today and he hated them with a passion, so he needed to pay attention.
Luckily for him, the bell rang which forced him back into the land of the living. He collected his stuff in silence – no one in his maths class seemed to really pay him any mind, for which he was grateful – and made his way to the door.
“Hey Mustang!” Ed called, clearly on his way into the classroom. They occasionally met like this, if Ed was early and Roy was being particularly slow.
“Hey.” He replied.
“I forgot to ask you in homeroom this morning.” Ed said. “It's my Birthday soon, on the 23rd, and I'm having a party. Are you free?”
His stomach bottomed out. “On the 23rd?”
“Nah, the 22nd. My actual Birthday is family only, sorry.”
He gave it some thought. It was the day before, so he should be fine. He would be fine. He couldn't disappoint Edward.
“It's not a proper, like frat party with alcohol or anything.” Ed rambled. “My dad would never allow that. It's just gonna be the usuals, we were just gonna do a movie marathon or something, order pizza-”
“That's fine.” Roy interrupted. “Thanks for the invite.”
“Great!” Ed exclaimed. Roy wished he could see his smile. “I'll text you the details nearer the time, 'kay?”
He nodded and forced himself to walk away.
He could do this. He wasn't disrespecting their memory by going to a party the day before the anniversary, right? Even though he didn't really deserve friends, or to be happy at all, it wasn't the anniversary, only the day before, so that was fine, right? Right?
Scout barked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He stroked her to tell her he was here, and then realised he had no idea where he was. He slumped to the floor, back against a locker, and resigned himself to being sat here for the foreseeable future. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.
“You're Roy Mustang, right?” An unfamiliar voice asked.
“Yes.” He shrugged.
“I'm Denny. I know Jean?” The name was vaguely familiar, and he nodded. “You okay?”
“I'm lost.” He admitted.
“You're in the music department.” Denny said. “I was just on my way to the bathroom when I saw you here.”
The music department was on the opposite side of the school, and he was pretty sure that he'd only been there around once before. He had no clue how he’d ended up there.
“Thanks, you're a lifesaver.” He forced himself to stand up, knees popping painfully and eyes stinging.
“No problem. You okay from here?”
“Yeah, thanks again.” With that, he made his exit, walking as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He had no intention of going to biology, he just wanted to get away from the awkward situation.
He ducked into the nearest toilet and locked himself in a cubicle, taking deep breaths. He frantically ran his hands over anything he could find – Scout's fur, her harness, the toilet-roll dispenser, his arms, his face. He tried to frantically calm himself down, but he couldn't; everything was so overwhelming.
Eventually he remembered how to breathe and took slow, deep breaths, just like Izumi had told him. He felt better now, calmer, in control of things.
He could do this.