"Isn't he dreamy?" enthused Winry, her words were breathless and tone wistful. She batted her eyelashes at nothing but open air.

Edward shot her a sidelong glance and almost gagged. His face scrunched up in a pantomime 'ew' expression as he took in the sight that was an ogling Winry Rockbell sitting at the adjacent desk: her elbow propped up on its surface, her chin cradled in the palm of her hand; stars and hearts practically burst behind her bright blue eyes. It was actually quite disturbing—borderline horrific—and Edward couldn't understand what the deal was considering that the guy was a Class A asshole.

"Yeah, if you wanna drink prune juice out of a wine glass for the rest of your life," he scoffed. "I didn't peg ya to be into old bastards like him."

Winry rolled her eyes and waved his words away. "He's not old...he's mature," she insisted. "Unlike someone I know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Hmm...maybe it means you're a child?"

Edward whipped around so swiftly, his ponytail smacked him in the cheek; Winry was surprised his head hadn't popped off and rolled onto the floor.

After spitting out strands of long blond hair, he tossed Winry a faint glare. "Are you tryin' to tell me that I need to sit on some books so I can see the front of the classroom and that old fucker you keep drooling over?"

"Geez, Ed," hummed Winry, "I was just saying that it's about time you grow up." As soon as the words left her lips, she closed her eyes in preparation for the tirade she knew was about to come. When nothing of the sort happened, Winry hesitantly cracked open an eye and looked at Edward. The other shot open and her jaw dropped.

"Edward!" she gasped, standing from her seat and rushing over to Ed, who had quietly fallen out of his own. Once she was by his side, Winry dropped to her knees and shook his shoulders. Winry paled at the odd shapes criss-crossing over his eyes while his tongue lolled from his mouth; she absently wondered what in the world she was seeing, but decided to ignore the stars circling above his head.

"Edward!"

A soft whimper protruded from Ed's limp form. "How could you, Win?" he rasped, clutching the material over his heart. "How could you do this to me?"

Winry's mouth opened and closed between squeaks. "I-I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't—"

"You literally hit me where it hurts." He let out a ragged breath. "I'm not short…"

"Wait, what?" snapped Winry. "That's what this is about?"

Ed glanced at her from his spot on the floor. He opened his mouth to say something that would most likely get him slapped, but her palm firmly connecting with his cheek shut him up before he could even get started on a witty response.

"Ow!"

"Get up!" Winry hit his arm, then stood and returned to her desk. She plopped down on her seat and threw him the cold shoulder, her nose stuck up in the air.

"Don't make me drag you back to your chair, Edward Elric. Professor Mustang will be here any minute."

Groaning, Edward sat up and rubbed his red cheek. "Do you have to hit me like that?"

"Do you have to be a jerk?"

Ed pushed himself to his feet, then sat at his desk. "Well, maybe if you—"

His retort was cut off by the sound of the small auditorium's door opening. He looked to the front of the class and watched as Roy Mustang, the physiology professor, strolled in and headed over to his desk. He placed his briefcase on the surface of the workspace and clicked it open, pulling out sheets of paper.

"Good morning," greeted Professor Mustang.

Dimly listening to the chorused replies, he approached his students and began walking up and down the steps, handing back test scores to each pupil. When he stood by Edward's desk, he purposefully placed his test face down.

"I believe you should see me after class, Edward." And with that, he continued on.

Ed grabbed the paper and flipped it over. His brow knitted in confusion. He looked from his perfect score to Mustang, who was staring at him with a smirk and cocky gleam in his dark eyes. Scowling, Edward grit his teeth, swallowing down a snarl.

That bastard.

Because he could pass this course in his sleep (it wouldn't be the first time he's done so—literally), Edward felt no need to pay attention to whatever the hell what's-his-face was going on about. So naturally, he was bored out of his fucking mind. The only form of entertainment he had—besides admitting to himself that Winry was right: his bastard of a professor was kinda hot—was the pen in his hand and the blank sheet of paper that should be filled with notes splayed out before him. Popping his lips, he began to scribble on the page, quietly humming to himself as he drew random shapes; the soft tune drowned out the aggravating sound of Professor Mustang's deep voice by letting his imagination flow through him. And before he knew it, he was swept away by the images swirling in his mind's eye.

"Your dumbass knows I just ate, right?"

"Your food and the majority of mine."

"I was hungry, geez!" grumbled Ed.

Sighing, Roy waved his hand at the line set up for the largest rollercoaster in the amusement park. "Do you care to see if you're able to get on?"

Edward scowled and crossed his arms, the tips of his toe furiously pounding on the ground. His knuckles cracked beneath his gloves. "You're lucky we're in public; no one likes seeing an old guy getting his ass kicked."

Roy smirked. "True, but I'm sure some wonderful woman would come to my rescue."

Scoffing, Ed's arms dropped to his sides. "I doubt someone else would you put up with a cocky bastard like you."

"If that were the case, my dear Edward, you wouldn't be fighting off elderly women with...how did you put it?" Roy paused, tapping his chin in thought. "With sticks and bad perfume? Or was it hosing them down with prune juice?"

"Well, now they know to keep their hands to themselves!" Ed shoved his hands into the pockets of his red hoodie and headed toward the ride.

"Let's get this over with," he called over his shoulder, "and if I throw up on you, it's your fault."

"I would expect nothing less," agreed Roy, trailing behind Edward.

The two walked in silence, weaving through the crowd of fellow patrons, bypassing food stands and game booths until they stood in front a sign with a cartoon rabbit and a measuring tape saying 'you must be this tall to ride'. Ed's nose scrunched up at the required height: sixty inches.

"Well?"

Edward's head snapped up to meet Roy's amused gaze, his golden eyes brimming with fury while the other's twinkled with delight. He let out a huff, his blond bangs blowing from his forehead before he strolled over to the sign. He turned around, huffing.

Being the bastard everyone (Edward) knew he was, Roy walked up to the chart and smiled sweetly.

"I suppose you did grow, after all."

"Toldja!" beamed Ed, pumping his fist in the air. "Race ya to the line."

Somehow, Roy won.

Ed suspected the fucker had sweet-talked the pretty blonde employee, who was ushering fellow patrons onto the ride, into letting him cut the line, seeing as Roy was literally waiting for him by the front of the train after Edward had spent ten minutes biding time for his turn.

"You're late," remarked Roy. He held out his arm, gesturing for Ed to slide into the seat first.

"I forgot we left your walker at home," quipped Edward as he was joined by Roy. "It was so kind of her to let someone as ancient as you sit and wait for your dashing young lover."

"Your humor is astonishing."

Ed flashed a playful grin. "I know, right?"

He reached over Roy's lap for his seat belt, then buckled it before tending to his own; he pulled it taut across his hips. After his work was dutifully checked and secured by the ride's attendee, Edward held out his hand, which Mustang took, linking their fingers together.

When the train began to move, Edward whooped.

And by time the ride had run its course—up and down the coaster's slopes, tilting to the left and right, and beneath tunnels—they were drenched; it had begun to rain as the ride had topped the final hill, which was the tallest of them all. Regardless of the water seeping into his clothes and his hair plastered to his face, Edward laughed when they finally exited and jogged toward a small pavilion in search of shelter.

"That was quite the adventure," commented Mustang, wiping water from his eyes. He slid a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back from his forehead.

"You shoulda seen your face!" Edward chirped.

Wiggling his eyebrows, Edward popped up on his toes and wrapped his arms around Roy's neck, gazing up into a pair of onyx eyes with a smug smirk.

"Who knew that badass suave Mustang could scream like a banshee?"

"Hah, hah." mocked Roy. He placed one hand on Edward's hip and used the other to tuck a cluster of wet blond hair behind his ears before caressing Ed's cheek with the pad of his thumb.

With a lopsided smile, Edward curled his fingers into the nape of Roy's neck and guided his head downward before capturing his mouth in a kiss. His golden eyes fluttered shut and he sighed, his cheeks warming as Roy's lips brushed against his own.

Suddenly, Roy began mumbling something unintelligible between each kiss. Edward pulled back, his eyebrow raised in question.

"You really know how to ruin the mood," he muttered.

The corner of Roy's mouth quirked. "Perhaps you should learn to pay attention."

"Uh…what?"

Roy leaned down, their lips just a hair's breadth away as he spoke between the sliver of air between them. "Class is over, my dear."

"Edward!"

Edward blinked.

"Edward Elric!" hissed Winry. She reached across the distance separating their desks and tapped him on the head with her pencil. "It's time to go, sleepy head."

"I'm awake, Win, you don't have to hit me."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to," she replied. Winry put her belongings into her bag and stood from the desk before leaning over Ed's shoulder.

"What in the world is that?"

Blushing, Edward scrunched up the graffitied paper into a ball. "It's nothing!" He swiftly got up from the chair, nearly knocking Winry over.

"How 'bout I meet ya in like an hour for lunch?" he suggested as he closed his notebook and shoveled his book and pens into his bag. "The bastard told me he wants me to stay after class, so hopefully I don't starve to death before his mouth stops running."

Behind him, Winry sighed. "Please don't say anything that'll get you in trouble. Maybe just stand there and listen."

"Will do!" promised Ed with an enthusiastic nod and a wave of his hand.

Once the room was empty, save for he and Mustang, and the coast was clear, Edward glared at his professor.

"I think Winry has a crush on you, y'know."

"Are you surprised?" drawled Roy, lazily waving at himself. "I am quite handsome."

Edward rolled his eyes. "More like a cocky asshole." He slung his bag over his shoulder, then proceeded toward the front of the room with the crinkled paper in hand. He stopped just shy of Mustang's desk.

"But I guess you are kinda hot for an old man."

"I'm unwilling to contend with the fact that I am, as you put it, 'kinda hot', but I will argue that I'm not old."

Shrugging a shoulder, Edward waved his words away. "Ah, whatever. But whaddya want? I'm meeting Win because I'm hungry and you're boring."

"You have such a way with words," remarked Roy, and Edward grinned brightly. "Anyway, are we still on for this weekend?"

"You betcha," said Ed. "And here, I drew this for ya." He tossed the paper ball onto Mustang's desk; the man unraveled and smoothed it out. Edward nearly laughed at the horrified look on Roy's face.

"And...may I ask what it is?" Roy questioned, staring at boxes housing stick figures with scribbles that may be hair; one figure was falling out of a box—or was it kicked out by what could pass as a foot of one of the other drawings?

"That's me kicking your ass and tossing you over the side of that rollercoaster we got on last weekend."

"It's…"

"Amazing, I know," supplied Ed.

Setting his sights on the blond, Roy flashed a dazzling grin. "I'll put it on my fridge."

"Well, I'll see ya later, m'kay?"

"Yes, I look forward to wherever you plan on dragging me to on Saturday."

Edward tossed Roy a wink. "Make sure you keep up this time."