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Edward returns to Central almost ten years later and he is a completely different person.
After the Promised Day he left with his brother and disappeared only to reappear suddenly again in a couple of years in his letters, some of which he for some reason started sending to Roy.
Scarce as they were, nowhere close to real time communication, Roy could see Edward’s growth in them. How the words he used have changed with time, how the tension in them has given place to marvel.
Alphonse has been in Xing studying and then working and starting a family and raising kids. And Edward has been travelling and writing about not settling down.
But then Edward arrives in Central, returns with no warning almost a decade after Roy last saw him, and suddenly he is a completely different person. There is a core of him that is recognizable, but he has shed some layers and has grown some new, and Roy finds some of the new ones familiar from his letters.
It is different to see him in flesh however.
He is taller now albeit still not reaching Roy’s height. His hair is slightly shorter and lighter and he wears it down. His face is longer and more angular. His skin is tanned with the sun of southern countries, and doesn’t bear the smoothness of youth anymore, slightly dried up under the sun and regular shaving. It forms thin soft lines around the corners of his lips when he smiles, that Roy finds challenging to look away from. His smile is relaxed and almost happy and a little bit like he is thinking of something that he finds secretly amusing.
He is relaxed and unhinged and he is wearing loose light clothing that doesn't hide his body but lies lightly around him making him into a picture from another world. He looks almost alien standing among them in their tight and tidy blue uniforms.
He is twenty-five now and Roy is nearing forty, and the fourteen years they have between them are not so blatantly obvious anymore as they were when Edward had been a half head shorter than he is now and ten times angrier. He was like a spring, compressed under enormous pressure. And then this pressure was lifted up, and somewhere in between then and now that spring has uncoiled into something beautiful.
Edward returns and shrugs when he is asked how long he plans to stay. “Depends,” is all he says, and he doesn’t let on more, only smiles this new smile of his.
Edward returns, and Roy finds it hard to sleep that night, his brain uncharacteristically excited, and it feels vaguely familiar but also almost new in the way that he hasn’t felt in ages.
He goes to work as usual, but it is not so usual anymore when Edward lets himself in his office at the lunch time, bringing food and stimulating conversations, and they continue their disputes they have started in their letters, and it feels so natural, like no reunion after a decade of limited communication should ever allowed to be.
Roy starts to sleep better and he finds himself going to work with a smile. Hawkeye notices and gives him a smile of her own, but says nothing otherwise, and he takes this as the permission for whatever it is that he is walking himself into.
They all go to a bar on a weekend, and Edward’s cheeks get rosy when he drinks, and he is all warm and sunny and happy and he looks at Roy with that smile and glint in his eyes, and it makes Roy feel giddy and young and excited for something he is scared to even think of.
He entertains the idea the next week, when Edward leans at his desk with one hip and looks down at him under his golden lashes, and the thought sends a jolt of nervous pressure down Roy’s spine and his limbs, but something pleasant uncoils behind his sternum.
It is scary and exhilarating in equal proportions, and Roy hasn’t felt like this for so long he isn’t even sure it has actually ever happened before.
He probably should not be feeling like this. He probably should not be acting on this at least, if it so happened that he has fallen a victim to whatever this is Edward has turned into.
He wants to ask Hawkeye, but the words suddenly don’t come, and he just looks at her helplessly trying to convey his question and his conflicting feelings with his eyes alone, hoping that she would hear him through their ages-old bond.
She does, and she smiles, and puts a gentle reassuring hand on his forearm. “I think he is interested too,” she says. And, “You are allowed to seek happiness for yourself.”
He invites Edward to dinner. A small cosy restaurant, where their appearance won’t raise eyebrows; just a casual dinner between two former colleagues catching up over food.
They go for a stroll after the food, talking and arguing, and Edward is animated and beautiful, and he laughs at something that Roy says, not unkindly, but joyfully, and Roy finds himself smiling.
Roy smiles a lot these days. Not the artificial small smile he wears as a part of his work attire, but a wide genuine one, that makes his cheeks ache.
He invites Edward for dinner at his house next time. He cooks it himself, and almost messes it up, because his mind is distracted and all over the place and he is so nervous he is terrified he might stutter if he tries to talk. He barely recognises himself, and he should be ashamed of feeling so juvenile, but he thinks of Riza’s words, and just lets himself be this way.
It makes him feel vulnerable when Edward arrives at his door in the evening, and for a few moments Roy just looks at him there, unable to form words. It makes him feel laid almost bare before these golden eyes when Edward notices his state and laughs softly, and then puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it briefly.
He saves Roy the embarrassment by asking him what he has cooked, and Roy gratefully describes him the meal.
They eat, and talk, and drink wine, and then move to the living room and talk some more. It gets darker and Roy lights up the fireplace, and the fire makes his skin feel warm, but his chest feels even warmer when he is watching Edward sitting on his couch inside his house bathed in the warm lights from the fire.
Roy pours them both whiskey and they continue their conversation, sipping slowly at the amber liquid.
He doesn’t notice when the night falls and when the glass in his hand gets empty. Only when there is warm pressure on his fingers does he look down to it, and he lets Edward extract the empty glass from his hand and put it on the coffee table.
Edward leans in when Roy looks up. Roy catches the smile on his lips, but then these lips are pressing against his. It is chaste, and soft, and Edward’s lips are warm like the rest of him, and something in Roy’s chest uncoils and sighs, and his eyelids fall closed. He feels Edward’s smile against his lips, and a hot puff of air when he chuckles and calls Roy an idiot with so much affection it makes Roy ache. He opens his eyes, and Edward is right there, with the glint in his golden eyes and a flush on his tanned cheeks, strained by a wide happy smile. It matches the happiness that is bubbling inside Roy’s chest, and Roy wants to kiss him again, but they are smiling so wide, it is impossible.
Edward laughs breathlessly against his mouth, and his hand is in Roy’s and the other is against Roy’s neck, and Roy is burying his fingers in Edward’s soft thick hair and for now it is enough for them to stay like this, drinking each other in.
Edward returns to Central almost ten years after the Promised Day and he stays.
