#implied royai

He grins. “What are you talking about Becks? You always put me in a good mood.” He reaches out with two soapy and dripping wet hands in an attempt to hug her and she yelps when she notices, jumping back and holding up her broom in defense.

“Don’t you dare touch me with those hands, Jean Havoc!” She screeches, waving the broom threateningly—but the quirk at the corner of her mouth betrays her. He chuckles as he turns his attention back to the sink, picking up the sponge to scrub at the dish he had set down earlier.

“C’mon, aren’t you at least a little excited Ed’s son is coming to stay with us?” He says over his shoulder.

She laughs. “Clearly not as excited as you,” she says as she resumes sweeping. “I’d be a little more excited if we didn’t have all this cleaning to do.”

To be honest, he isn’t thrilled about the cleaning, either—but the prospect of having one of the Elric kids over far outweighs the chore of tidying up the house.  Jean loves kids. If it weren’t for the fact his time as a paraplegic had left him and Becky unable to have any of their own, he’s sure they would’ve had two. Three, maybe. Even more if his wife were up for it. But she’s never been much of the maternal type.

“What if it was Momo staying over, hmm?” He asks, though he already knows her response.

She sighs, smiling. “Okay, Jean, Roy and Riza’s daughter is an actual angel, though.”

He can’t deny that—they both dote on the only child of their Fuhrer and First Lady. All of Team Mustang does. It’s a good thing Hawkeye is as disciplined as ever because their daughter would have otherwise become an exceedingly spoiled child.

Momo is quite possibly the most angelic child he has ever known and is, perhaps, the sole reason Rebecca had considered the notion of adopting kids.

She had brought it up one night after they had had dinner at the Fuhrer’s estate. Momo had been maybe six or seven at the time and had spent the majority of the evening glued to “Aunt Becca’s” side, small hand clinging to his wife’s as she listened to her talk about what eastern Amestris was like. Evidently the girl’s actions had entirely melted her heart—Jean had never seen his wife so flustered by someone so small.

“She’s so cute, Jean!” she had squealed, arms flailing before she brought her hands up and pressed them against her cheeks. “I want one, too!”

So they had discussed it, but ultimately resolved to stick with being good godparents to Momo. They had gotten used to it being just the two of them after all. And given how much extra time not having kids left for them to attend to...other things—well, he wasn’t complaining about the arrangement.

Still, an opportunity like hosting one of the Elric kids was something to look forward to.

“I’m sure Denki’s a good kid, too,” he says, turning off the faucet as he grabs a towel to dry off the newly washed dishes. “He doesn’t have Edward’s infamous temper, at least.”

That’s what he says, but it’s been a few years since they’ve seen the Elric children so who knows how much has changed. Denki Elric is hardly a kid anymore—he’s older than Ed and Al had been when they had made the trek up to Central. But in Jean’s mind, even Edward and Alphonse are still kids, despite the fact they’ve both been married and had children of their own for quite some time now.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” she responds, dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash. She disappears into their room and returns wearing a fresh outfit, hair brushed back and makeup lightly done. He stares a moment too long—while he loves his wife no matter how she looks, he can’t deny that small moments like these remind him just how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to have her.

“I’m going to head to the market to pick up some more groceries,” she says, smiling up at him as she slips on her shoes. “You consume a buttload of food on your own and with Denki here I can’t imagine how much two of you can eat.”

“Sounds good,” he says, walking over to her to wrap his (now dry) hands around her waist, placing a peck on her cheek. “See you in a bit.”

She turns to leave but suddenly stops, as if she remembered something.

“Oh, and Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“I do hope you’re planning to wipe up all the water you dripped onto the kitchen floor.”

Ed stared at her with wide, stricken eyes like he thought he had been betrayed. “But he’s useless!”

“Only on rainy days, and the forecast called for sun today. At least take a break from your phone. If Roy texts me that anything goes wrong, I’ll tell you immediately. Please take a look at the case files.”

Ed ground his teeth, waited for a second to see if he could wait her out, then deflated. “...Fine. But as soon as they call, you tell me!”

“If they call, I’ll tell you.”

Ed grouched for a moment and stormed over to the table, yanking out the chair and dropping into it like a brooding child. Riza laughed to herself and shook her head; though it had been over five years since Ed had gotten Al’s body back, sometimes she could still see the same sullen child she had come to love. A small part of her hoped that part of him would never grow up. She took a seat on her bed (she and Ed had agreed that sharing a room would be easier and would pose no problem) and tucked into her own case file, hoping for some clues.

After a small amount of time, both phones in her pocket buzzed. Curious, and a little nervous, she pulled out her phone. Roy was a responsible adult, no way he had let something happen to Winry.

She rolled her eyes, a small smile drifting over her face. A group chat, from Winry, sent to her, Roy, and Ed. And the picture, no doubt Ed wouldn’t be terribly pleased with that, the jealous little thing he was.

’Stay safe! We love you! See you when you get home!!’

“Ed.”

Ed shot up like a hunting dog, staring with wide eyes at her, clearly waiting for the moment she called for him. She rolled her eyes again, but pulled out his phone and stretched out the small distance to hand it to him.

“Take a look.”

He took the phone and opened it up without looking at the message. Slowly, his scowl darkened into something unholy, which made her smile. Oh how pleased Roy would be if he knew that he had caused a face like that only by taking a picture with Ed’s wife. After a solid minute of scowling at the picture, Ed started typing back furiously.

The picture that Winry had sent was really just a picture of the two of them smiling, pressed close to one another. The background suggested they were at Gracia’s--the half of the wall painting she could see looked like the one above Gracia’s living room couch. Either Gracia or Elysia had probably taken the picture. Roy was holding Winry to his side, his shoulder behind hers a little, although Winry seemed no less enthusiastic to be with him. Their outer hands were curled together, forming a little heart between them. Winry’s grin was huge, showing off a tongue piercing that she and Roy had nearly had a spat over three years back. Roy’s smile was soft and warm--though he seemed happy to pose for the picture with her, he had likely had to be connived into it. 

It was a cute picture, one that made Riza smile if for no other reason than to see these two she thought of as family to get along so splendidly. She saved the photo and set it as her home screen just in time for Ed to send back, ‘Get away from my wife, you pervert.’

‘Oh Ed,’ Riza thought, but didn’t bother saying aloud. She waited to see what the two on the other end would say.

Their end was silent for five full minutes. Finally, when the chat pinged again, it was another picture. It was a selfie done by Winry, her arm extended forward. The selfie was staged in a bedroom, as the two of them seemed to be seated on a cushy bed, likely Gracia’s. Roy sat behind Winry, his legs drawn around her. His arms swam around her pregnant belly, and his chin was nestled on the crown of her head. He was making the same bedroom eyes he made at Riza when he was messing around. She could tell that he was joking around, and that Winry was as well, but would Ed see that? In a state of heightened agitation, probably not.

Winry was making a delighted face, but also was trying to pull off her best goofy-but-sexy face. She turned her face up to Roy only a little bit that it made her look like she was going to kiss him, her free arm curled up so she could stroke her fingertips on his jawline.

Those two were going to get themselves in huge trouble with Ed when they got home. Riza? She could let it slide this time. Really, Ed was kind of asking for it.

The picture was on their phones for nearly half a minute before Winry finally explained. Ed was silently fuming; Riza could practically see smoke spewing from his ears. She lifted her phone to snap a quick picture to send just to Roy, saying ‘Look at what you two are doing to him.’

Winry’s text was simple and only barely explained the picture. ‘oh yeah didnt you hear? We’re eloping sorry boo ;) xoxo’

Ooohhhhh no. Ed was definitely kicking Roy’s ass when they got home.

Within seconds, Ed answered, ‘I’m kicking your ass if you dont get away from her!!!!’

Riza feared that they’d send another picture, perhaps of them kissing, which she wouldn’t be too happy about. Thankfully they both had the common sense not to respond with that. The text that followed was from Roy: ‘how you feeling, Fullmetal?’

He was stirring the pot. Of course he was.

‘How am i FEELING?!?

Like youre gonna get an ass kicking is how im feeling!!!

And im not an alchemist anymore!!!’

‘With a temper like that, youll ALWAYS be Fullmetal, Fullmetal.’

Ed just about put a hand through the wall, and Riza just about choked trying to suppress a laugh. Ed shot her a look but he must not have seen her laugh, because he immediately turned back to his phone.

‘And you’ll always be a piece of shit, you piece of shit!’ popped up on Riza’s phone seconds later. Riza shook her head and looked down to her forgotten case file. Well. So much for getting closer to going home.

‘:OOOO’ Winry texted immediately after. Roy’s response was a simple, ‘creative, Fullmetal’, just as Winry continued with ‘I’M SO SORRY GENERAL OMFG EDWARD’.

‘Don’t be, I’m not.’

‘That’s no way to speak to your commanding officer.’ Riza informed, then set her phone aside. Ed shot her a look that was half-betrayal, half-surprise, then turned away from her when she looked at her file.

‘...

Yes ma’am’

The phones were silent for probably ten minutes, blessed silence, during which time Ed actually sat down and took a look at his files.

Her phone suddenly chirped with Roy’s newest addition. ‘You know, Ed...’ was all it said, although the indicator said he wasn’t quite done. Riza could feel in the pit of her stomach that whatever he would say, it would spur Ed’s furious rage on further. Not that Roy’s very existence didn’t seem to do so most days.

‘What.’ Ed replied, and Winry’s addition was a nervous little ‘...’.

‘You’re stuck working all week, while I get to care for a beautiful young woman all alone.’

‘General’ Winry cut in, likely in the hopes of quelling her sure-to-be-raging husband.

‘Just me...

And her...’

‘THATS IT IM COMING BACK HOME AND KICKING YOUR ASS MYSELF YOU FUCKIN CREEP’ Ed responded, jerking up out of his bed and toward his suitcase like he intended to pack up and head out.

“Ed!” Riza squawked, hopping out of her seat and to his side. She cut him off from his suitcase and shoved him back, just as Winry replied, ‘OMG Ed it’s fine he’s just joking!!!’

‘Your wife gave me permission to drop kick your ass to next year so be ready for that.’ Ed snarked, crossing his arms. He dropped onto the bed, face souring at his phone.

Riza squeezed the bridge of her nose tiredly and held her hand out to Ed, who stared at her with suspicious, narrowed eyes.

“...What?”

“Give me your phone.”

”What?! Why?!”

“Because you have work to do, now give me your phone, go sit down, and work. You know Roy’s only messing with you.”

Ed stared between her face and her hand, as if unable to believe that he, an adult, was about to be grounded from his own phone. But when Riza wiggled her fingers a little and did not back down, he realized that she was being completely serious. He scowled and slapped his phone into her hand, probably unnecessarily hard, and stormed to his case file. He dropped into the chair like a petulant teen and went about actually doing something useful.

Riza rolled her eyes and pocketed his phone.

‘I most certainly did not,’ she responded on her own phone, taking a seat beside her own case file. ‘But keep it up, Roy Mustang, and I may just change my mind on that.’