Rainjoyswriting - Sick Roy.pdf

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Sick Roy
Sick Roy
A fuzzy buzzing sound from a distance, a bee trapped in a dusty bell. It pushed Roy up
from sleep like riding a slow-wending irresistible current from the depths to the
shallows. He couldn't place the noise - familiar yet surprising - but a weight, a body,
leaned over his and he thought, Edward, and the alarm clock snapped off.
Ed's weight shifted off him again, back to his side of the bed - almost. When Roy opened
his eyes Ed was face to face with him, eye to eye with him, and with a little lean, forehead
to forehead. His hair tickled Roy's jaw.
"You're too warm," he murmured. Roy closed his eyes, sighed. More shifting, bumping
movement, and then Ed's cool right hand settled over his forehead, a blessing on his
overheated skin, and he smiled. "I told you this would happen," Ed huffed. "You let
yourself get sick and act like it's nothing."
"The head of state can't just take a day off, Edward."
"The hell he can't. It's a day off now or a month off when he collapses-"
"I'm not sick, anyway. I'm a little run down."
"'cause you won't stop ." Ed's hand slipped down his face, cool as silver, and caressed
along his cheek with the smooth flat of his thumb. "Okay, so I get that you don't wanna
take any time off, but d'you think this is just gonna go away if you keep ignoring it?
D'you think you're doing the best thing for the country going to work while sick? Just
one day's rest to recuperate-"
"From you of all people, Ed."
"That is different . I have to watch the kid."
"But the entire rest of the country . . ."
"Can look after themselves for a few hours. Look . . . jeez, you are impossible to argue
with, you know that? You're worse than the kid. Just stay in bed a little longer, okay? I'll
make you a cup of coffee. Have to get the kid ready for school, anyway."
The hand slipped down to his breastbone and pressed there with delicious cold, and
there was a little kiss over his eyebrow and Roy felt drained enough to let himself be
soothed, let himself smile. He felt wretched - never admit it to Ed but his head was over-
packed with hot wool wound around his brain, his eyes were dry and hot and better
closed. Ed's weight shifted off the bed, and Roy heard him padding around the room,
rustling through getting dressed and quickly brushing his hair out and snapping a tie
around it, opening the door the clicking it quietly closed again . . .
Roy recognised the clap but didn't recognise the significance of it until the reaction had
already fused the door into the wall. He sat up - the room swung with him, too quickly -
and he clapped a hand to his head, called, "Edward-"
"Stay in bed!" Ed yelled through the solid shape of the door, and his footsteps moved
away.
"You utter brat -" Roy pulled the covers off and the room said, Whoa, that is really not
happening , and swayed at him alarmingly. Roy pressed his hand over his eyes and
shouted, "Put the door back!"
He heard the happy, muffled sing-song of Ed greeting Maes.
"Edward! Damn you - there's some chalk in here somewhere-"
There was a smack on the door as Ed passed it again; his automail fist. "You go back to
bed, Roy, or I'm transmuting you into the covers." he called cheerfully, and then strolled
downstairs with Maes and such an unconcerned tread that Roy wanted to beat his head
in with the alarm clock.
Instead he sat up in bed, arms folded, glaring at the door, waiting for him to come back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He woke up again when weight tilted the mattress beside him, and blinked dazedly. He'd
been resting his eyes. He'd only meant to rest his eyes until Ed came back so he could
tackle him, tie him up in the sheets and escape while he could -
Ed jammed the thermometer into his mouth and said, "You are worse than the kid, you
do know that?"
Roy pulled the thermometer out and snapped, "I am going to-"
Ed flicked him between the eyes. Roy was so startled that he just stared while Ed stuffed
the thermometer home again. "You are not . I called you in sick."
"You-" Roy pulled it out. "For god's sake! Give me the teleph-"
Ed pushed the thermometer back in and held it there with his hand, and snarled, "So
help me Roy, once more and we are doing this rectally , okay?"
That at least made him pause.
"Worse than the kid," Ed repeated in a mutter. "One day until you feel less like shit, I'm
not asking for the world here, you took longer off on our fricking honeymoon-"
Roy made a muffled exactly noise around the little glass wand.
"And I worry , do you even get that? I don't think I ask for a lot, I really don't, actually, I
never do, but - fuck it. I want you happy . You have the worst fucking job in the country
and I don't know why you want it so much and all I can do is pick up the fucking pieces
behind you-"
Roy stared. Ed sniffed moodily, and rubbed with the pad of a thumb at the shadows
underneath Roy's eyes. "You're an idiot," he muttered. "You're an idiot and I'm stuck
with you. You could at least behave for me when you're sick. Bringing up one kid's hard
enough, the both of you-"
Roy scowled at him. Ed gave a weary grin and hit him gently in the arm. "Roy, come on.
You work thirteen hour days six days a week, the study's full of papers that give you
this-" His finger pressed into the centre of Roy's forehead - "frown-wrinkle and you
expect me to watch you do this to yourself while you're sick too? I put up with enough
already. One day's rest. You'll feel better in the morning, don't you wanna feel better?"
His brain had been replaced by a big bowl of warm, soupy water. Yes, god, he wanted to
feel better. But -
Around the thermometer he said, "What about your job, you're meant to be at - where's
Maes?"
"Don't talk, it'll take even longer. Havoc took the kid to school. And I called off today, no
biggie. They have a problem with it then I'll just take my enormous brain elsewhere."
Ed's job put up with a lot from Ed, Roy knew, out of sheer terror that Ed genuinely would
take his freakishly unique brain to a rival research facility. Ed knew this and responded
with the same calm smugness he applied to Maes' alarming intelligence; it was simply
how the world was, and how it should be. It made Roy smile, and Ed smiled back at him
then, and Roy's resolve wavered. One day in bed, one day of rest, with Edward there,
with Edward caring for him . . .
Ed flicked the thermometer out with no more warning than when he'd stuck it in, and
narrowed his eyes at it. "Huh. Not too bad. You stay put anyway, I'll make some
breakfast."
"I'm really not hungry."
"You eat it or I make you eat it." Ed said, already walking to the doorway. Roy raised his
eyebrows a little. Edward caring for him with his own unique definition of 'caring', of
course . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roy drowsed the morning away. If only he hadn't felt like such humid crap it would have
been a nice way to the spend the day.
Coming to noon, he woke to find Ed sitting on the floor with his back to the mattress,
pencil hanging from his mouth and glasses low on his nose, eyes fixed on a book
propped over his bent knees. Roy watched him for a little while, with one eye buried in
the pillow, the edge of his jaw and the fall of his hair. Ed had turned thirty recently; he
could still pass for a great deal younger. Meanwhile Roy should be approaching his mid-
life crisis but he just didn't see the point. Acting like a teenager again, being so flashy and
absurd - why? To prove himself not past it, to attract a new mate? Why would he want
anyone but Ed? And why would he want to be any different for Ed, when he knew Ed so
well and what Ed wanted from him so well?
(Running a hand up his arm and slipping his fingers through Roy's, and saying in an
attempt to be offhand, "You ever thought about doing it with your gloves on?" not
because of the sight or the texture of the gloves, Roy knew, but because alchemy made
Ed hot. Small controlled flames and Ed's eyes fixed on his hands, Ed's moans as he rowed
his hips urgently over Roy's lap; Roy didn't know how anyone could get bored of sex
when there was always a new dimension if only you knew where to start - though he
was too warm already to be thinking of this now . . .)
He let an arm dangle out of the covers and brushed his knuckles over the top of Ed's
head; Ed blinked and looked up at him over his glasses, said with the pencil wagging in
his teeth like an odd cigar, "You okay? You want a drink?"
"I'm fine." Roy let his knuckles trail down the side of Ed's face, hush across his cheek.
Ed's forehead furrowed as he tried to work out what Roy was doing. "I'm fine, I'm
fine . . ."
"You sure you're not too hot or some-"
"I'm perfect." And then in a murmur, "My beautiful husband . . ."
Their vows were still young enough that it darkened Ed's cheeks still, and he ducked his
head a little so his hair swung against Roy's wrist. "You sound bloody feverish anyway,
but then you never did make much sense." Ed muttered, and Roy laughed softly, twined
some gold around a finger and stroked it out as if he were spinning it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ed took his temperature again in the afternoon. He glared at the thermometer and said,
"Hmm."
"I feel alright," Roy offered. Only half a lie. "Are you even going to tell me what it is?"
"No. Your job's to get better, this is my job." Ed fluffed the covers over Roy again - a little
waft of cool air, it reminded him of being a child again with an adult to do this for him -
beat and smoothed the pillow, then ran a hand over Roy's head and murmured, "I'll get
you another drink."
Roy wondered if this came naturally to Ed, or if he was just that good at picking things
up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Voices downstairs. Roy put his book down and raised his head, checked the clock. Ah.
The door closed, and just a few minutes later the bedroom door opened, and in came
Maes with worried dark eyes and a piece of card clasped in his hands. "Give your dad a
hug," Ed murmured to him, and Maes climbed onto the mattress so he could offer his
arms to Roy, who smiled and held him for a moment. He wasn't a huggy person, Ed was
the one who drank down physical contact like air, but for Maes . . . he rubbed his hair
and Maes sat up, and grinned Ed's grin, and offered him the piece of thin cardboard.
"Miss Gold let me draw you a card."
Because Miss Gold was running fast out of ways to keep Maes occupied. So far, Maes
responded to school with patient bemusement - why ask him to add up row upon row of
pointlessly low numbers when he found long division simple, when his daddy was
teaching him how to work out square roots when he was bored at home? - but everyone,
Ed included, was nervous of the Elric in him; not enough stimulation and he could very
easily start using his energy for less quiet tasks, for acting out as extravagantly and hair-
tearingly as Ed admitted that he, you know, maybe might have been possibly interpreted
as doing when he was at school ("How did you accidentally tear up the floorboards?").
Get well Daddy. And a picture of Roy with a dog. Over the top of the card Roy gave Maes
the We're not getting a dog, Maes look, and Maes gazed back in all innocence. Roy smiled,
couldn't help it, put the card on the bedside table and said, "Thank you. It's a very nice
card."
"Okay, kid." Ed said. "Daddy needs his rest. We can get you a biscuit and do some -"
"I could read to Daddy," Maes said. "He reads to me - I can read to him -"
Ed's mouth creased with not smiling and he cocked an eyebrow to Roy, who let the smile
out anyway. "That would be very good of you, Maes."
Maes scrambled down from the bed and ran out to get the book from his bedroom. Roy
said, "I half suspected you would keep me under strict quarantine away from him."
"Better to strengthen his immune system than coddle it," Ed murmured. "Anyway, I'm
more likely to pick this up off you than he is."
A sore point of Ed's pride, that he was physically weaker now than he'd ever been. A bad
birth and a violent splenectomy had left him unable to fight off most of the viruses that
came around, but he shrugged for Roy with a weary smile and stepped to the side as
Maes came running back into the room with The Lost World in his hands. "I'll start on
dinner," he said, closing the door behind himself.
Maes and Roy shared a bleak glance at the thought of what would soon be happening in
the kitchen, and then Maes opened the book on his crossed legs and found his place, and
started to read. He rarely read out loud and mispronounced a handful of words; Roy
corrected him in a quiet murmur and his ears went red, but when he stopped at the end
of the chapter Roy said, "Thank you, Maes, that was very good." and the flush was so
much happier this time, and it was Ed's smile again he was trying to clamp down. Yes,
Maes resembled his uncle Alphonse far more than his father, but the brothers had
identical smiles and Roy only had to see it to have to fight down his own stupid grin . . .

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