Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Confidence ❯ Chapter 1

a/n: Written before I saw the whole series. Forgive me?

 

 

Confidence

 

 

“I quit.” He was Confidence. “There's no reason for me to keep my commission.” Confidence tossed the silver pocket watch on an ironwood desk. That metal chunk landed on a neat stack of paper- disassembled it into clutter, all over the desk and hardwood floor. Confidence was lucky-smart that way. He could destroy military order with one easy movement.

 

But, Roy Mustang understood disorder. He loved it; it was the chance to reorganize the moment toward his advantage. Something Confidence consistently underestimated. Something Mustang could count on; like the time on that ballistic watch Confidence threw.

 

He picked it up, smiled and tossed it back at Confidence. “Fine.”

 

“Fine?” Mustang loved the way Confidence blinked. “Is that all you have to say?”

 

“Did you expect me to beg?” He slapped his hands together and batted his eyelashes like a girl. “Oh, please don't leave me! I will miss you so!”

 

“Quit screwing around.” Confidence stood up- all five foot three cocky inches of him- and straightened his red jacket by the lapels. “I'm not joking. I'm quitting. You can't stop me.”

 

“Ah.” Roy rounded his desk. He carefully sidestepped the papers. “Now, that's getting to the point.” He crossed his arms, smiled again, and leaned close enough to count the freckles on Confidence's face. “See, you can quit. You can try, that is. However-“ Confidence wouldn't budge, even when Roy leaned closer, close enough for their noses to touch, “I can stop you.”

 

For a moment Confidence just stared him down. A double dog dare; Roy chuckled as he read the anger in those big eyes. Golden eyes. Alchemist's eyes. He loved getting a rise out of this troublemaker. A taste of his own medicine.

 

“Hah.”

 

He didn't even blink, this time. Oh, he liked this kid- he always did. This cocky little son of a bitch. Confidence wouldn't give an inch. He stood his ground, like a good soldier should.

 

Damn, he was a firecracker. Yeah, he was something else.

 

“Hah?” Roy put his hands on those tiny shoulders; worked his fingers in an easy rotation, like he would when he was calming Havoc down from a nicotine fit, or Hawkeye from a premenstrual fit. Easy movements, meant to make someone relax, were just more gunpowder for Confidence. Over and over, through his jacket, through his uniform; Roy could feel the metal break in that right shoulder. “Is that all you have to say? `Hah?'”

 

“Yeah. Cos I laugh when someone tells a funny joke.” Confidence was back, smirking, shoving, pushing him away. He wasn't about to fall for the bait.

 

Roy didn't let go. He wasn't done. “What's so funny? I didn't know I was a comedian?”

 

“Al's got his body back.” He was struggling, now, trying to get Roy off of him. But Mustang was a soldier, too. He was not about to give up any ground, either. “You've got nothing to hold over our heads. I got no reason to be here.”

 

“Wrong.”

 

Confidence is a dangerous state of mind. It makes the minder lazy, he overestimates himself, underestimates the opponent. Things slip, like the metal foot Mustang swiped out from under him. And Edward Elric was reduced to shock: unconfident and unsure of what the Colonel would do next.

 

“Wh-what? What the fuck are you-?”

 

“Tinker.” Roy put both hands on the sofa. “Tailor.” He loomed over the boy. “Soldier.” One knee went between Edward's thighs. “Spy.”

 

“You fucking asshole!” Anger, after Confidence? Mustang kept smiling. That would work, too. He liked rage. It was like fire, in the blood. “Get away from me! You got nothing to keep us here and you're just trying to freak me out!”

 

“Tell me which one I am, boy.” He sank down until their noses, just their noses, were touching again. “Which one would I have to be to know all about you and your brother?”

 

Their noses were touching- and every other part of their body was a breath away. Mustang could taste the adrenalin pumping in the boy's blood. It was moving so quickly- if he wasn't careful this kid would accelerate the energy and push him through the wall with it. And that would not do. Oh, no.

 

“That he was a hollow suit of armor? Big deal. No one cares, now that he's back to normal.” The blood was riding high under his skin. The heat was all over his cheeks. He had to be careful, be deliberate, he had to find something that would keep him off balance. Mustang smirked. “You're bluffing.”

 

He knew just what to do.

 

“No, boy. You're the one who's bluffing.”

 

“Get off!” The push was half hearted. That was good, very good. Roy knew he had him, now.

 

“You want to know how much I know, don't you?”

 

“Why do I want to know what an idiot knows?” His breath tasted like cinnamon. His freckles looked like they were sprinkled on. He was almost… pretty. Good. That made it easier.

 

“I know all about you, Edward Elric.” Easier to lick his lips, and scare Anger into Fear. A truer face. It was so simple. “I saw you two. Last night.” He could taste it. It was just like he thought it would be: cinnamon. And sugar. “Your little brother's curious about his body, isn't he? And who else, but big brother, would he trust to show him just how good it feels to be a boy?”

 

Having Edward Elric by the balls was sweet.

 

“Bastard.”

 

“So you see,” Roy looked down at those soft, shaking lips, and smiled, “I do know something after all.”

 

“You… bastard.”

 

“So, FullMetal One…” He licked his lips again. He loved the way the boy would shrink away when he did that. “Which one am I?”

 

“I said… I said bastard.”

 

“No. Those aren't the choices.”

 

“I don't care.”

 

“Tinker?” Roy tapped the automail arm. “Tailor?” He lightly, oh so lightly, tugged the lapel of his jacket. “Soldier?” He reached down. Edward gasped and wriggled when he realized Roy was reaching for his pants… and pulled out his watch. “Soldier?” He rubbed the metal, warm from Edward's body heat, against the boy's cheek.

 

“S-s-s-py?”

 

Roy jumped back, chucked the watch at the slack jawed wreck and laughed. Just laughed. Because it was so easy. So damn easy.

 

“Are you still thinking of quitting?”

 

Confidence was back. He stood, he glared, tucked the State Alchemist watch back into his pocket and stomped toward the door. In a goosestep. Then he swung on his metal heel and saluted.

 

“That's a good boy.”