Themes 5, 6, 8, and 10 contain spoilers! SPOILERS! Okay, maybe not if you don't reeeeally look at them, but just to be on the safe side, better to see the entire series before reading these.
“I guess I can understand why you’re doing this,” Winry said as she helped gather up some of Ed’s old clothes from what they’ve managed to find in his various places of stay. “But is it really necessary to dress like him? In his clothes?”
Alphonse shrugged, shoulders promising to fill out strongly. At seventeen-years-old, his body was finally catching up with his age, more lean instead of muscular as his brother’s had been. “Well, I figure it could help me remember more. I think I know a few things, but I can’t tell if they’re true memories or dreams.”
“I suppose…” She handed him a pair of black pants. “Here. Granny sewed more material onto them so that they could fit you.”
Al grinned at her gratefully. She smiled back, but with a undertone of sadness. His smile reminded her of Ed’s.
As Al privately changed in a separate room, he quickly encountered a problem concerning differences between his brother’s and his own body build. There was no problem with length as Pinako had sized that down to a tee. A little tight around the pelvis and buttocks, but then again, Ed was really into the tight leather for some odd reason.
But around the zipper--
If Al’s calculations of bodily proportions were correct--
Good Lord! No wonder Ed hated being called short!
“Um…you’re right, Winry!” Al called out, face blushing vividly at this humiliating discovery. “I think my own clothes will do just fine!”
For some reason, she insisted on feeding him apples everyday. It wasn’t that Roy was complaining about the royal treatment he was receiving, even if it was just from his subordinate, but he was just a little sick of apples. After two weeks of being stuck in this rehabilitation center, he was already restless and wanting to leave. Unfortunately, the doctors running this place insisted that they make sure he was well and for that to occur, he would have to remain here for an additional three months. Three months of blood drawing to be certain no infection was taking place, of coordination exercises…
Riza would sit next to his bed at 2:15 sharp, a schedule she held loyally steadfast to every afternoon. In spite of all her other responsibilities, every day, rain or shine, she appeared by his bedside at 2:15 PM, knife in her fingers delicately peeling the red skin off the luscious fruit.
The door opened and Riza walked in, hair falling about her shoulders like sunlight. Her eyes were downcast and instantly he knew something was wrong. “Hawkeye?” he inquired. Certainly, she hadn’t been in the highest of spirits lately, but to be completely morose was unlike her!
“I…I ran out of apples this morning,” she explained and held up something round in her hand. “I hoped you would care for an orange instead?”
Would he!? Finally! A change in pace! So happy he was that for one day he would be spared of the ordinary that he could barely sit still as she sat down in her usual chair and used her nails to tear open the fruit. Once the skin was out of the way, she peeled back a slice and held it to his mouth.
He took the sweet meat tenderly in his teeth, but as he began to chew, his lips brushed softly against her fingertips. Her face blushed heavily at the motion and once his gaze locked on hers, he felt his own face burn a little.
Now he understood why she insisted on feeding him only apples instead of fruits like oranges.
Apples were safer…
Humor/AU (takes place in present-day Tokyo...yes, I dared)
17-year-old Roy Mustang squirmed uncomfortably in his high school uniform as his best friend and classmate Maes Hughes dragged him out into a more secluded area of the courtyard, Hughes clutching a showy bouquet of flowers. “I need you to do this for me, Roy!” he had begged all the way to this point.
“Fine, fine!” Roy snapped peevishly. “Let’s just hurry up and get this over with. I have a date tonight.” Being a little too jumpy for his own good, Hughes had decided he needed practice before embarking on that dangerous mission all teenage boys fear: asking a girl out. Not just any girl. The girl of his dreams; the girl he imagined spending the rest of his life with.
And guess which proverbial best friend was talked, tricked, and downright guilted into playing the part of Hughes’s dream significant other?
Roy just hoped they were inconspicuous enough not to draw a crowd. As he stood there, wishing that if he concentrated enough a magical gun would appear out of thin air and shoot him between the eyes, Hughes knelt down on one knee. His face had a slight blush beneath his glasses as he held up the bouquet. “These are for you,” he whispered.
With a glare, Roy took the flowers. Maybe Hughes would get over his jitters if he, Roy, were to play the role of the indifferent girlfriend. “And now, my love,” Hughes continued after clearing the nervousness out of his throat, “I wish to grace thee with a song.”
WHAT!? This hadn’t been part of the plan!! Unfortunately, before Roy could stop him, Hughes burst into a high-pitched yowl of the most off-key, pathetic serenade no man or beast should have to be forced to endure.
“And I-I-I-I-I-I-I will always loove yoooooooooooooooooooooooou…!!!”
Within a span of two notes (if one could call those ear-numbing shrieks “notes”), the entire courtyard seemed to be covered with fellow students. Even though Hughes cut off short at the site of such a taken-aback audience, the humiliation remained. “Maes-kun!” a girl suddenly exclaimed gleefully, and Roy recognized her to be the girl of Hughes’s obnoxious desire. “I had no idea you liked Roy-sama! That’s so cute!” She winked a sparkling blue eye in their direction. “You two do look good together.”
“Wait! Gracia! It’s not like that all!” Hughes called after her while she walked away, still laughing at this, in her eyes, rather adorable display.
As the crowd thinned, whispering and sniggering amongst themselves, Roy wanted to take that imaginary gun of salvation he had conjured earlier and shoot Hughes with it instead. He, Roy Mustang, president of the student council, officially the most popular guy in the entire district, the number one desired underaged male in all of Tokyo for God’s sake!…caught being serenaded (and horribly at that) by his best friend. Not that Hughes was unpopular, quite the contrary, but still! He could only imagine the rumors that would be slinking back and fourth throughout the halls by the time he came back for first period tomorrow morning!
A pair of girls happen to walk by just then, glancing over at Roy and giggling. Roy smiled his usual suave smile at them that made many a female both teenage and adult swoon; however, he realized it was not as confident like normal…actually he could tell it was kind of awkward and painfully so.
It was something a Homunculus like himself could never feel; with the exception of Gluttony of course, but then again Gluttony fed due to his powers and not out of any need to keep his body alive. True, they had to consume red stones to sustain their abilities and immortality but it wasn’t the same as consuming human food.
Envy leaned back in his booth, watching casually as Gluttony tore through the crimson pulpy mass that had, roughly three minutes ago, been their waiter. Having been thinking about the comparison between the stones and the human instinct to feed, a twinge of curiosity got the better of him. “Hey, Gluttony,” Envy spoke up as he leaned toward the gorging Homunculus. “What does human flesh taste like, anyway?”
Gluttony grinned gleefully at him, blood trailing down his monstrous teeth, a piece of intestine hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Chicken!”
Lust rolled her eyes and patted Gluttony on the head. “You don’t even know what chicken tastes like,” she chided affectionately.
In the far recesses of his mind, Envy recalled a time very long ago when his curiosity for human food carried him further than just a simple inquiry. He remembered a chicken salad sandwich he had eaten once just to see if he could feel any difference between that and the red stones.
Though he could hardly conjure what that particular salad had once tasted like, he was sure that if he tried something like it again he would remember. Besides, he really had nothing better to do anyway.
Gluttony was sucking the marrow out of a femur when Envy squatted down on the sticky floor and ripped off a piece of muscle. The overpowering scent of blood was almost a little too much, even for him, but Envy was not one to get too close to his victims after they had been snicked. Nose crinkling slightly, he took a tentative bite of the meat.
While he really didn’t care too much for the blood, he was met with a rather mild surprise.
Gluttony was right. Humans do taste like chicken.
Barry the Chopper/Riza
The one thing that sucked most about guarding the 5th Laboratory was that because it was locked, blocked, and all around barricaded against the outside world it hardly attracted a lot of visitors. Sure one or two who never learned the vital moral in the Curiosity and the Cat story, but Barry disposed of them quickly to the point where it was boring.
Whatever happened to the good ol’ days when he used to chop women up and leave their mangled gory bodies in a random gutter for the police and military alike to mull over till their heads nearly exploded from the ache?
Oh, yeah. That Fullmetal brat.
As he sat there by the gate that particular afternoon, steaming over those rather humiliating memories, a shadow fell over the sidewalk. Tilting his head a little, he noticed it was a woman. She didn’t seem to realize he was there, crimson eyes beneath blonde bangs staring up at the building. “Even in the daylight, it’s creepy,” she muttered to herself.
If Barry were still alive, his face would be several shades of crimson at this point. She was gorgeous! He never knew women this beautiful even existed in Amestris! He had to get her attention before she walked away. She might not ever come back, and she was much more enjoyable company than those desperados that came through here now and again.
Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye thought she saw something move just inside the gate, and quickly drew her pistol from beneath her coat. She relaxed a little when she fully took in the samurai armor with the skull helmet leaning against wall next to the gate. “That’s a scary looking armor,” she observed. Then a smile that seemed to light up her whole face emerged from her usual stoic manner. “But it is kinda cute in a morbid sort of way. If it weren’t behind that gate, I’d probably take it home with me.”
As she walked away, still a little cautious about the source of the noise Barry had caused to catch her attention, said spirit attachment shivered with excitement where he sat. His imaginary face was now purple.
She called me cute! he thought gleefully. And she smiled at me!
Of course, Barry didn’t know the first thing about this woman, her name, where she came from other than her uniform clearly proved she was in the military. But he did know she had the prettiest smile, and he believed it was that aspect of her he had fallen in the love with the most.
“You wanted to spy on the Fuehrer! What are you squirming for!?”
“I’m in a dress!”
Roy grinned down at a furiously blushing Ed, but amidst all the red frills and curly locks of blonde hair, it was hard to tell that his humiliated date was really the Fullmetal Alchemist. “But you look so cute.”
“I’m not cute! I look like a damn girl!”
“That’s the point, Edward. Now keep it down or we’ll get caught.”
It was bad enough Ed had decided to spy on the Fuehrer upon Al’s request to confirm that the military king was not all they had first thought he was and, in a moment of sheer stupidity, asked Roy to help him (well, the Colonel was close to the Fuehrer, after all). Now, the Fuehrer was holding a party and guess who had to go as Mustang’s date?
“You’re a wanted man,” Roy had pointed out. “If you showed up at the mansion as yourself, you’d be arrested on the spot.”
At this point, the hired orchestra started up a waltz, and Ed noticed Bradley dancing with his wife. “That’s our cue!” Roy hissed, snatching Ed by the wrist and dragging him to the dance floor. For some reason, Ed believed the Colonel was a little too enthusiastic about all this but whatever. He long ago gave up trying to figure Roy Mustang out.
Feeling one of Roy’s hands interlocking with his own and, even worse, the Colonel’s other upon his waist, Ed was now more than ever uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” Roy whispered under his breath.
“I’m afraid you might accidentally snap and set my dress on fire,” Ed replied, even though that was far from the truth.
“I’m not wearing my gloves, Edward.”
Well, so much for that excuse.
“Forgive me, I’m not used to wearing dresses, okay?” Ed spat nastily.
Roy shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
As they continued to waltz, Ed began to grow increasingly squirmy. Not because of the threat of Mustang’s hands (because that didn’t exist), or the fact he was wearing a dress. But, whether it was due to the fact he instinctively danced that way with women or if he was deliberately being a bastard, Roy was pushing his hips closer and closer into Ed’s.
“Nnnnn…Roy, you’re too close,” Ed gasped softly.
“You’re…” He could hardly breathe at all now. “You’re…too close.”
Their hips were against each other’s now. In fact, their groins were practically touching.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Roy asked in a normal tone, still pushing into the smaller man…
“BASTARD!” Ed yelled and luckily, due to being completely freaked out, his voice came out in a very high-pitched squeak. He stormed off, leaving Roy lying on the floor having just been bitch-slapped by Ed’s metal hand.