Cream and Gold: Cream and Gold

"Not like that, Nii-san—"

"I know how this goes, Al."

"But you're doing it wrong! Here, it's supposed to look like this. . . ."

Roy shook his head as he listened to the brothers argue. Ed had just gotten his tuxedo from the tailor's, and Al was helping him try it on. They were both well into their twenties by now, but it seemed in some ways they would never grow up. He hoped they never did.

Roy smiled to himself as he packed his suitcase, thinking back to a conversation he'd had with his young lover years ago, before the laws had changed to allow the wedding they were preparing for now. Edward had been helping Alphonse prepare for his wedding, and it had made the elder brother somewhat wistful, though he'd only admitted it to Roy. It had sparked a conversation between them, a daydream about their own wedding.

"Al would be my best man, of course. But who would be yours? Havoc?"

Roy smiled and spun the young man around the living room as they danced to the phonograph. "Hawkeye, I think. Havoc and the others would be my attendants."

"Hawkeye? But she's a woman."

"We're having an unconventional wedding anyway, I don't see why I can't have a female best man."

"True." Edward took the lead in the dance. "But would she wear a dress or a suit?"

"Are you planning to tell Hawkeye what she can or can't wear?"

"Um . . . no."

Roy smirked. "I imagine she'd wear her dress uniform, anyway." He took the lead back and spun them, simply to see his lover's golden ponytail fly out behind him. "I imagine you'd want Ms. Rockbell as one of your attendants, wouldn't you? What would she wear?"

Ed blanched. "You think I'm telling her what to do?? I'd rather tell Hawkeye, at least she fires warning shots. Besides," he added, "knowing Winry, if I tried to tell her what to wear she might actually wear her coveralls, just to spite me."

Roy relinquished the lead again, letting himself be spun and turned. "You realize, of course, that you wouldn't be able to wear white."

"Huh?"

"White's only for virgins," he said with a straight face. "But you would look better in an off-white or cream, anyway."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Yes, with your coloring, I think you'd look stunning in a cream with gold thread."

"You better not be talking about what I think you're talking about."

"It would need some lavender or purple to set off the gold, of course."

"Roy. . . ."

"Lavender lace, or maybe a ribbon. Of course, the ribbon on the garter would be lavender, but we'd need something everyone can see during the ceremony."

"You are! You bastard! You're picturing me in a dress!!"

The conversation—and the dancing—had ended there, as Roy had made a futile attempt to escape and Ed had proceeded to pound him (in more ways than one—this being why the older man had purposely riled his lover up in the first place). The thought of Edward in cream and gold and lavender had stayed with him, however, and he allowed himself a brief moment of regret that the younger man had bought a tux, even though he'd known the chances of seeing him in a wedding dress had been next to naught.

The voices from the other room quieted, and a moment later the door opened and Ed poked his head in. "Roy?"

He turned away from his packing and smiled. "Well. Do I get to see the result?"

Ed smiled shyly and pulled back for a moment. He briefly heard low voices, then Ed stumbled through the doorway. Alphonse grinned before he removed his hand from his brother's back and shut the door.

Roy stared. He stared so long that Edward started fidgeting, shifting his weight back and forth and fiddling with his cufflinks. And Roy still stared.

Edward's tuxedo was a rich cream color. The vest, and the bowtie, were embroidered with gold thread. The buttons and the cufflinks were a deep, iridescent lavender, rimmed in gold.

Cream and gold and lavender.

"Well?" The young man glanced at him, then down to his gloves, his cheeks pink. "Say something already."

Roy rubbed a hand over his face, then looked again. The vision was still the same. "Congratulations, Edward. You've officially rendered me speechless."

Ed's blush deepened and he looked down at his shoes (cream, Roy noted). "I suppose there's a first time for everything," he said with a small, pleased smile. Then he looked up, a teasing glint in his gold eyes. "You did make it so I couldn't wear white, after all."

The older man laughed, coming forward to smooth his lover's jacket collar and straighten the bowtie. "So I did, though you had as much to do with that as I." He fingered one of the lavender and gold buttons and added, softly, "You look amazing, Love. I can't believe you remembered that conversation."

Ed reached up and laced his fingers behind Roy's neck. "Of course I remembered that conversation. Being able to marry you is something I've been dreaming about for a long time. I'm afraid we'll have to do without the garter, though," he added. "It wouldn't fit under the slacks."

Roy smiled, wrapping his own arms around his soon-to-be-husband's waist. "I suppose I can't have every. . . ." He drifted off, suddenly realized exactly what his lover had said: we'll have to do without the garter. It wouldn't fit under the slacks. "Ed . . . do you mean. . . ."

Edward smirked up at him. "So that'll just have to wait for the honeymoon."

Roy suddenly tightened his embrace, lifting the smaller man off his feet and spinning him around.

"Hey, hey! Don't wrinkle it!"

He obligingly set his lover back on his feet and smoothed out the suit jacket, leaning forward to claim a kiss as he did so. "Edward Elric . . . If we weren't already having our wedding this weekend, I'd ask you to marry me."

"Idiot."

"Brat."

"Shithead."

"Runt."

"Fucking bastard."

"Love you."

"Love you too."