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femchefName: Help Wanted
Author: biscuit_tin (femchef)
Fandom: FMA
Rating: Teen
Also available on ao3
"Here. Hold my beer."
Roy barely notices the foam slopping over the rim of the glass and on to his fingers when Ed thrusts the drink roughly into his hands. He is too caught up admiring his companion's stiff neck and shoulders, the upward tilt of his chin, and the way Edward's brows have drawn together in irritation. Roy Mustang is irrevocably besotted - what are sticky hands when compared to the incandescent fury Ed trails around and behind himself like a burning comet tail. Arguing with the bar's announcer over the answers for trivia night only makes him glow; Roy is lost all over again.
When Edward cracks his knuckles and points his finger ominously in the direction of the scoreboard, Roy grins, goofy and affectionate. That poor, unfortunate sod with the microphone has no idea what he's in for.
Riza leans her back against the scrubbed wooden counter, sipping slowly at her own glass of gin and tonic. Though keeping a weather-eye open, she's off the clock, and she's sure Ed will keep any bloodshed to a minimum. Of course, there will probably be yet another help wanted flyer on the public notice boards tomorrow. Really though - if the bar would only stop hosting trivia on the same night as their military discount evenings, this wouldn't keep happening.
Roy looks absolutely tickled when Ed's tone falls into something more akin to a growl.
Riza sighs into her glass, but smiles anyway. Now if only Roy would actually ask Edward out, and things would be perfect.
Author: biscuit_tin (femchef)
Fandom: FMA
Rating: Teen
Also available on ao3
"Here. Hold my beer."
Roy barely notices the foam slopping over the rim of the glass and on to his fingers when Ed thrusts the drink roughly into his hands. He is too caught up admiring his companion's stiff neck and shoulders, the upward tilt of his chin, and the way Edward's brows have drawn together in irritation. Roy Mustang is irrevocably besotted - what are sticky hands when compared to the incandescent fury Ed trails around and behind himself like a burning comet tail. Arguing with the bar's announcer over the answers for trivia night only makes him glow; Roy is lost all over again.
When Edward cracks his knuckles and points his finger ominously in the direction of the scoreboard, Roy grins, goofy and affectionate. That poor, unfortunate sod with the microphone has no idea what he's in for.
Riza leans her back against the scrubbed wooden counter, sipping slowly at her own glass of gin and tonic. Though keeping a weather-eye open, she's off the clock, and she's sure Ed will keep any bloodshed to a minimum. Of course, there will probably be yet another help wanted flyer on the public notice boards tomorrow. Really though - if the bar would only stop hosting trivia on the same night as their military discount evenings, this wouldn't keep happening.
Roy looks absolutely tickled when Ed's tone falls into something more akin to a growl.
Riza sighs into her glass, but smiles anyway. Now if only Roy would actually ask Edward out, and things would be perfect.