You want to break him just once; see what he really is beneath that cool exterior.
When you live in a small apartment, it's hard to miss when your brother comes home smelling like sex and absinthe.
"In case you hadn't noticed," Ed went on, poking Roy in the chest, "I am no longer twelve."
Ed jabbed accusingly with an automail finger — nearly putting out Mustang's eye as he did so — and shrieked, "You're a crossdresser!"
Rule number one: no one knows about us. Rule number two: I will continue to take other lovers to keep up appearances. Rule number three: no commitment. I thought it would be best to keep this quiet so I wouldn't look like a damn pedophile.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
That was unacceptable. Anger was to be expected; disgust was not allowed.
I have enough things to worry about without dragging you into my messes. Why did you have to be the one to come after me?
He made the slip-up not whilst in the throes of passion, but rather, sitting quite peacefully at the kitchen table, watching the slender blond cook.
Ed growled under his breath, color high in his cheeks, and pulled away.
Sex isn't comfortable. It's wet, hard, satisfying, but never comfortable.
"It's not that easy, Roy. You see, it's my fault he is this way. He honestly doesn't want to hurt me. He loves me..."
The Colonel should, by all that is logical in the world, be less intimidating out of his uniform.
The first thing he was aware of when the aftershocks faded was an automail hand on his throat.
Before this war, he'd never wiped human blood off his automail.
If killers and empty assassin armor hadn't frightened him, half a foot of park bench shouldn't leave him feeling so useless and pathetic.
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
"Just remind me, even if the alternative is to sleep on a ice cube, NEVER to share a bed with you again.
"Come on," he snorted. "As if I could say no to Al AND Winly looking at me like that."
Ed considered for a moment how much to share with the boy. Kids could be weird with what upset them, and Ed didn't want to lose his single ally in the neighborhood.
As far as Edward was concerned it could just take for-damn-ever if it wanted because that’s how long he could go without taking to the Bastard.
"How do you manage to win, even when you lose?" he asked sleepily, some time later.
Some of the stuff he was asked to investigate was truly stupid shit. A bakery, for instance.
"You can't do that! This is a shounen series!" he hissed.
“Your latest expense reports left something to be desired. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll go over them.” “I’ll stand, thanks.”
Inevitably, within five minutes of the door shutting, he has me wanting to put my automail in his face.
"Hey! She did it blindfolded! No one else could do that! And better her than that old hag!"
God, he's gorgeous, even cut up. Especially cut up.
"I know those court ordered anger management classes were years ago, but you've come such a long way."
"Listen, bastard... Do you always have to do things the hard way? You never, ever make it easy for me."
I was talking with Al one day. And I was explaining how a long-term relationship is like a religion. They both have similar hallmarks...
Now the eyes were dull, the gold frosted, and bitter lines caged his mouth.
The Colonel's laugh might have been relieved or wanting or even mocking; it was hard to tell.
Winry had scraped a promise out of Ed.
Mustang fell into a kind of trance whenever he killed with his flames -- snapping his fingers continually, sometimes so fast that both his hands blurred.
Ed let out the barest squeak, then glared fire as if daring Roy to say anything.
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
"It's blue!" Edward announced with the voice of desperation.
It was sure to be a disaster.
Brother deserves better than to always walk alone. And you deserve better than to quietly freeze in the dark, regretting things left untested.
There was a terrible vulnerability to Roy when his cover slipped, and it made Ed uncomfortable.
What he really wanted to know was something else - a question of 'why', quite likely.
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
Riza looks straight ahead. "Personally, I found during my time in Ishbal that nothing stops a career faster than a bullet between the eyes."
It really irritated him that he did have ten years of experience and Roy could look at him and drop his voice a little and Ed squirmed.
The blond shook his head lightly, probably in amusement, "I'm really sorry but he's normally not like this to strangers but your resemblance? is very striking, Roy."
His brother seemed to like it when the leather left marks, a residual token of ownership, even when the collar (by job-dictated necessity) had to be removed.
"You embarrassed the brass, and now they want their pound of flesh."